[AU][C][M] My Prince

It wasn't often that the flourishing Kingdom of Ecrutez was approached by another. Their kingdom was strong in this land, a neutral party that sat at the centre of many smaller kingdoms that fought with each other over squabbles for food or better land.

One such kingdom, a small but proud land, had reached out to Ecrutez's royal family with an offer of marriage to unite the two lands and gain a better standing.

The offer could have been denied. Ecrutez had no part in their kingdoms wars, and was well known to deny any requests for aid with their wars. If any of the smaller kingdoms received such aid from them, the others would stand little chance.

And yet, in their desperation to keep the others at bay, the kingdom of Alden had extended a request for marriage, an offer to the Ecrutezian Prince. The hand of their daughter Mary, in return for the uniting of their kingdoms, and more important their military force.

The request had been pondered and, surprising to most, accepted. The metal-smith work Alden boasted was enough to turn many an influential head in the kingdom. Between their strong weapons and beautiful crafted fine jewellery, both the Ectrutezian army and noble stock would be appeased with a marriage to a kingdom that could offer little else to them. A vein bunch the Ecrutezian were.

A small party of Alden royal family members, among them the soon to be wed princess, travelled to the prosperous kingdom for the wedding. It was a grand affair, the ceremony was short, but the feast and festivities afterwards were set to last for weeks.

The after-ceremony feast began in great spirits.

Espiridion and Mary were paraded in front of nobles and peasants alike. Then the royal family, and Elizabeth and Richard of Alden, retired to a more private setting to eat and chat.

"Your son," the queen spoke, overruling the previous topic of Mary's future children, her dark eyes on Richard. "He is a strong boy, yet unwed. It is customary in our kingdom, to offer slaves to the unwed at celebrations such as this." The queen raised a hand adorned in fine silver and jewels. 

The guard at the door bowed out, and a few moments later, a young man was guided into the room by a leash by another guard.

He wasn't a remarkably tall man, but despite his clearly low status, he had quite a demanding presence. With broad shoulders and a body sculpted from strong hard muscle, it was hard to look away from him. His head was bowed submissively, and his long dark hair was drawn over one shoulder, falling straight down to his crotch, and curling slightly at the ends. 

His 'modesty' was covered only in a sheer red scrap of cloth over his crotch, held in place with delicate gold chains. The rest of his body was adorned lavishly. Decorative piercings ran through his nipples, sporting hanging glittering red gems and fine golden chains connecting the piercings together. His neck, too was adorned in gold and rubies. A thick collar of metal was closed around his throat, cushioned with a thick padding of red material to reduce any unsightly marks. Thick rings hung from the collar. The heavy chained leash attached to it gave its reason for being there.

His arms were chained behind his back, held in place by a chain attached to the gold cuffs at his wrists, and a length of chain that trailed down his spine, attached to his collar.

"Richard, we present to you the finest pleasure slave we can offer. Hank. A boy from the island in the lake, near the Southern border of our kingdom."

Hank raised his head, to set his sight on the man he was being given to, just as the guard leading him put a hand on his shoulder and shoved down. Hank dropped to his knees in front of the prince, gazing up at him.

With his head raised now, the man's features were more visible behind the long hair, that now pooled slightly on the floor between his parted thighs. His features were strong and striking. His eyes dark, and sharp. A ruby-studded golden ring was pierced through his septum, and attached to a chain that lead to a heavily decorated ear. His forehead was adorned with a thin circlet, with rubies hanging down to sit on the bridge of his nose.

Fleck surveyed the boy in front of him. Dressed different than he'd ever seen a man dress. He was pretty, almost delicate looking with his pale skin and long golden hair.

As far as people to pleasure went, Hank was pleased with this man. He was young and pretty. Fleck had had to pleasure many less attractive nobles, men and women alike, in the past. They didn't hold a candle to this boy.

Behind him, the queen gave a delicate but meaningful clearing of her throat.

"I am pleased to serve you, My Prince." He spoke in Alden's tongue. The quiet tittering of the queen behind him showed that that was entirely unplanned. He was supposed to offer himself to the prince, but not in Alden's tongue. The Queen didn't speak it, and didn't understand what Fleck had said. She was half worried that the boy had said something to incriminate or embarrass her.

There was a tense silence, as the room waited for the Prince's response.

Richard found public relations tedious. He was sure his King brother played some sort of sick game to send him to the Kingdom of Ecrutez. There was definitely a mischievous glint in his eye as he sentenced him to his fate. He brushed off Richard's complaints with: "You need to work on your public relations. Kings orders!"

If it wasn't treason, he would have thrown something heavy.

The southern kingdom was hot. Much hotter than his own homeland. He sweltered under the layers and laces of his clothing. Yet, in stubbornness, he refused to dress down. Especially in the more liberal Ecrutezian clothing. His mother also refused to wear less, but she seemed unbothered by the heat. Her face poised, it never gave much away.

The only one who embraced the clothing was his elder sister, Mary. Out of all his siblings, she inherited the late King's looks the most. Tall, mousy-haired, a strong nose.

The court cruelly called her plain behind her back. The last of her sisters of age to be wed.

Now she had the last laugh.

She was absolutely besotted with Prince Espiridion. By chance, it seemed he felt the same way about her. Charmed by her dry humour, strong nature, and, ironically, looks.

He guessed he was pleased to at least witness their arranged marriage work out. He wanted her to be happy. Even though he knew she would sacrifice her happiness for the well-being of their Kingdom. They all would. This reunion was crucial. Especially with an alliance with another nearby Kingdom was on the rocks.

The celebrations, so far, had gone well. Currently, they were in a more secluded area. His mother and the Queen spared lightly with words as if to test the water. It was exhausting to keep up with.

His attention was caught when he was brought into the conversation. Lips slightly parted in horror as to why. The lack of twitch in his mother's hand told him she wasn't surprised at all. She knew this was going to happen.

Keeping his cool, he turned to the door as it was opened.

Dick's breath caught sight at the sight of the slave. Rubies and gold glinting on his tanned skin. Muscle rippled with each step he took. The clothing he had on was more to be tantalising than for modesty.

The Ecrutezian court must have caught wind of his taste. Probably through a mischievously smiling man with a golden crown on his head.

He felt his skin pink under his layers of clothes as the slave's sharp eyes bore into him. Gorgeously dark. it sent a little shiver down his spine.

His hand twitched as he thought the urge to play with the silver rings on his fingers.

When the slave opened his mouth he didn't expect him to speak in his tongue. None of the court seemed to expect it. The Queen didn't sound pleased at all.

He felt his mother's cold eyes bore into him.

Attention turned back to the Queen, he attempted to keep his face collected. With his mother's poised expression, he tilted his head towards her.

"I graciously accept your gift during these celebrations, your Highness," he spoke in Ecrutezian.

"Excellent." The Queen clapped her hands together, quickly shedding the worry that she'd shown a moment prior. Her sharp green eyes pierced the back of Fleck's head for a tense moment. "Boy, here."

Fleck's eyes slid shut and he took a steadying breath before rising to his feet, with incredible balance. He didn't stumble at all, despite having his arms locked behind him. He stood before the seated woman, gazing down at her apathetically.

The Queen gripped his chin firmly, turning his head this way and that to get a good look at him for the first time. She didn't much care for the pleasure slaves. "I hear he is a good hole to fuck." The pad of her thumb ran over Fleck's chin, just under his lip. "Obedient and generally quite pleasant, but if he doesn't perform to your standard, I suggest a whipping."

Of course she would suggest a whipping. The royal family were known for their sadistic tendencies towards their servants and slaves. They had very heavy-handed ways. He could attest to that. He had a few faint scars on his back and thighs from previous behavioural corrections.

She patted Fleck's face a firm pat, on the verge of a slap and gestured with a sharp jerk of her chin. "Tend to your new master, whore."

With a bland smile, Fleck turned from the queen and returned to his spot on the floor at Dick's feet. His chin titled up and he raised his brows at his new Master, waiting for the go-ahead, or a hand in his hair to drag him forwards.

Alden was one of the few slave free kingdoms. It has been since it's creation. According to myth, it was built on by escaped slaves from the northern countries. A safe haven for other escaped slaves.

Just because they never kept slaves, didn't mean they weren't taught how to use one. Their greatest alliance to the west of them kept slaves. They were nothing more than objects. Feeding royalty and nobles, keeping their heads bowed. They only made noise if they were bent over the table.

The country in the north they had been at war with on and off for years and kept slaves like pets. Let them feed out of their hands and slink around the courts, purring into nobles hands. They were famous for their erotic performances at night.

The Kingdom of Ecrutez was neutral territory. They hadn't been friends or enemies. His knowledge was limited to their culture and customs. The vast majority of things he knew was crammed on the journey down. He only knew their language because their western alliance spoke the same language.

It didn't take long until he realised how they were treated here.

His mind flicked worryingly towards his sister, then back onto the Queen. He had to remind himself not to wince.

How his mother kept her such a straight face, he didn't know. The slight twitch in her eye gave away her true feelings. A daughter of an ex-slave herself.

When the slave made his way over to him, he forced himself to look. Head tilted up slowly tilted down.

He brought the jaw between his fingers and examined the slaves face. Turning it this way and that. The little decorative jewellery on his skin and in his hair caught the light. He certainly had a georgeous face. The appreciative noise at the back of his throat wasn't part of the act.

If there was one thing that seemed to be familiar between the kingdoms, they all wanted to see their gifts shown off.

His hand looped loosely around the chain before setting it back on his chair.

He would openly let the Queen see him enjoy his gift for another glass or two. Then, when deemed appropriate, he will excuse himself and take his pleasure slave to bed with him to have his way.

It was all exhausting.

He glanced down from the corner of his eye.

"My wine."

It needed refilling.

His dark eyes didn't even blink as Richard grasped his chin and looked him up and down like a piece of meat. That was one thing he could never get over; being looked at like he was a piece of meat.

He hadn't always been a slave. It had been a punishment, his slavery, for a crime he'd committed while in the castle. The mindset of a slave hadn't come to him too easily - the marks of which were clear in the scars on his backside - and accepting being treated like meat had never come to him.

At least his face didn't twitch into an expression of disgust. It was just blank, even as the young man made an appreciative noise.

He sat back on his heels when the Prince looked away from him, eyes still warily on the man. He hadn't made any move that he'd expected. At this point, when a man or woman had been given his body, they'd have lifted their skirts or robes, or dragged him across their laps, or requested some tool to tease or torture him with.

This man had simply looked at him and settled back into his chair.

The demand was met with a thin-lipped, patient expression as he shifted his hands slightly. The chains keeping them locked behind his back - a mark of a slave deemed just for pleasure in the court of this kingdom - rattled quietly. He had no movement of his arms.

Observing the young prince, the Queen leaned over to her Alden counterpart. "Is your son displeased with the boy?" She was waiting on the prince to drop his pants and start using the boy as he was meant to be used. Already along the table the Queen's youngest son was using his slave in the same manner. Yet, Richard didn't seem to be planning to use him as intended at all.

Dick froze. He made a mistake.

His eyes flicked to the portion of the table he had been purposefully ignoring all evening. It was clear to see what his mistake was.

"Forgive him, but I can assure you he is thoroughly pleased with your gift."

His mother gave him a cool gaze, it was withering behind it. She was only going to help him so far. He needed to play his part.

"I apologise if I have insulted you, your highness." He tilted his head again. "But I can see he truly is one of your best slaves, if by looks alone. I simply would like to savour myself and the slave to enjoy how he would perform tonight."

His thought's turned to the Queen's son. What he was doing seemed far from decent. He wasn't comfortable doing that in front of others, let alone his own mother.

Besides, his clothing didn't allow easy access like that.

But even with his excuses, he couldn't let the slave sit abandoned on the floor.

With not much time to think before it got suspicious, his fingers threaded into the dark hair to pull him closer into his lap, encouraging his back to his mother. Unfortunately, the Queen wold still be able to see.

He decided this was one of the most humiliating moments of his life.

Fleck's lips pressed further together, this time in amusement more than anything else. The corners curled upwards just slightly. He tried to wipe the amusement of his face, but his lips stayed slightly curled.

This boy was seriously struggling with the liberal customs of their kingdom. He'd never seen someone act so closed off sexually.

He found that as interesting as he did amusing. Would he be like that in private, too? Would he blush while he used his body? Would his eyes wander because he couldn't face the mortification of staring at a nude body? Would he stutter his words, nervous and inexperienced as a child?

Curiosity was getting to him.

So when his head was pulled into the prince's lap by his long hair, he nuzzled against the thick fabric over his crotch, dark eyes cast upwards to catch his reaction.

This was normal behaviour. He was a slave meant to pleasure others. He was just living up to his purpose. But the prince was clearly prudish. This would embarrass him, make his cheeks glow. He wanted to see how red they would go.

Richard tensed as the slave nuzzled into him. Already he felt the blush creep up his neck, past his high collar.

He couldn't push the slave away. He couldn't even act indifferent. He had to act like he was enjoying it. (A tiny part of him did.)

He didn't care if it was treason. When he get's home he was going to throw something nice and heavy at his King brother for sending him here.

Blue eyes, focused on the corner of the table, dropped to meet the slaves and he felt his breath leave him.

The slave was gorgeous, even more so in his lap. The jewellery accented his features well - even if it was a bit garish for his taste.

He wasn't going to survive this evening, let alone tonight.

That blush was exactly what he wanted. That colour was so bright it was unnatural. It couldn't be healthy to have that much blood rush to your head all at once.

When those pale eyes met his, he purposefully and very slowly opened his mouth and ran the flat of his tongue over the crotch of his pants.

Now that move was guaranteed to have his head reeling and his ears ringing with the rush of blood.

Could he make the man so embarrassed that he passed out?

Now that was a challenge he would like to explore some time.

Richard's lips parted slightly as he watched the slave open his own mouth.

Then very quickly drawn bottom lip between his teeth as his chest rose sharply. His fingers tightened in the hair.

It garnered the reaction the slave wanted. A bright blushed bloomed across his face, contrasting nicely with the dark blues of his clothing.

If it wasn't for their situation, he would have glared at the slave. He definitely didn't seem so lovely in his lap now.

But this alliance was important. If his sister had to spend the rest of her life with someone in a foreign kingdom because of it, he was sure he could do an evening.

He tried to relax back into the seat, refusing to look anywhere else. He hoped to God his mother hadn't heard his gasp.

Mmhmmm, there it was.

The nervous lip-chewing, the sharp tug at his hair, that sinfully deep red blush. He loved it.

He ran his tongue over his own lips appreciatively. Did that flush extend to other places? 

His eyes dropped to Richard's crotch, and he nuzzled it again, slowly running his nose over the bulge between his thighs, nudging it teasingly.

His eyes were alight with laughter as he continued to nuzzle and tease.

Dick chewed hard on lip and twitched in his seat as he struggled not to writhe. He couldn't let himself go like the liberal locals. A few soft moans and grunts came from different parts of the table.

It became too much. He pulled sharply on the slave's hair. Keeping him in his lap, but so he wouldn't nuzzle so deeply into his crotch.

His clothing was uncomfortable now. Formal Aldish clothing was well fitting and restricting in areas. One being his crotch.

The sharp yank on his hair just drew a little grin to his lips.

He stopped nuzzling, just content to lay with his head in the Prince's lap as he tried, once again to smooth out his features.

If his Master wasn't in the best of moods, grinning at his reactions like that probably would just get him to instil some discipline in him. It had happened plenty of times in the past.

He continued to look up at his new Master from his place in his lap, wondering whether he was going to get it when they retired for the evening, which would likely be soon given the Prince's awkwardness in the situation, or whether Richard would be just as awkward in private as he was now in public.

Time would tell.

Dick caught the flash of a grin and his blush didn't waver.

His hand softened on the hair. The slave's head just resting on him he could deal with. It didn't make him squirm uncomfortably in his chair.

Pale fingers smoothed over the dark hair as he continued to feign interest. He did note that the slave's hair was remarkably soft and not as coarse as he originally thought. It was gorgeously glossy too. He wouldn't mind playing with its length.

Eyes on the man between his legs, his ears were back on the conversation between the two woman. It seemed to return to the matter of heirs. Nothing particularly exciting, or to do with him.

He hated himself for thinking at least he had something pretty to look at now.

The slight movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. The Queen's son had excused himself from the table with his slave in tow. Their hands wondering under their flimsy excuse for clothing.

That meant it was time to excuse himself, too.

He stood, pulling the slave by the hair out of between his legs and beside his thigh. His head tilted to the to the Queen.

"You highness, if you please, I would like to retire early."

He guessed he had to thank the slave for the strain in his pants. To anyone else on the table, it would be very clear what he would be retiring early for.

Fleck's eyes slid shut as Dick's fingers played through his hair.

Pleasure slaves were treated quite well compared to other slaves in the castle. They had access to baths almost daily and most the time the bathing oils of the castle were at their disposal as well. Fleck took advantage of that as frequently as he could. He enjoyed bathing. It was a luxury he'd only had so great since arriving at the castle.

Fleck barely made a murmur as he was pulled from between his Master's legs.

The Queen's green eyes turned over the prince and his slave slowly before nodding. "You may be excused. Enjoy him."

His mother only patted him on the arm as he left, the slave in tow.

The personal guard that waited for him followed him through the palace. Always only a few paces behind. How they felt about their prince towing a slave, he didn't know. They managed to keep their features straight, a product of their years of training.

He couldn't bring himself to tug on the slave's hair throughout the palace. Instead, the gold chain hung loosely around his hand. He kept a couple of paces in front of him.

At the entrance of his guest quarters, he stood and let the guards open the door for him.

"No one disturbs me. If they wish for my presence tell them to wait until the morning."

With that, he entered his room and heard the guards close the door behind them.

He dropped the chains onto the floor at the door and sighed. He made his way to the lounging chair in the middle of the room and slouched into it.

One day down. Six more to go.

Glancing back up to the slave he dimly remembered he still had this evening to get through. A glance down to the tools and oils that had been provided by the Ecrutez court, they were very insistent that he enjoyed himself tonight.

Fleck had to slow his pace to stay behind the prince when he was led through the castle. He had a few inches on the dainty looking prince, and a longer stride. His natural walking pace was faster than Richard's, and he found that it had been made faster since stepping foot into the castle, being herded from one place to the next by impatient guards.

It was the first time in a long time that he had had the luxury of slowing down and ambling at a slow pace.

When they stepped through into the Prince's room, he stopped at the door, eyes darting around curiously. 

The room was decorated lavishly, with the same traditional deep red and golds that decorated the majority of the rest of the castle. The bed was large and low, piled with luxurious linens and cushions.

The furniture tended to be dark, striking woods, gilded with gold, and painted with red. 

The low table adored with decorative bottles and familiar instruments had his lips twitching upwards. The queen, for all her well-praised talents, was not a subtle creature.

Richard was a smudge of blue in the dark and warmed and toned room. Completely out of place.

His fingers hesitantly picked up a riding crop and he turned it over in his hand. The handle was a firm dark leather, must have been expensive. The whip itself wasn't very flexible, as he bent it in his hand, it must have been newly made.

He let it drop with a clatter back onto the table, lips curled and his eyebrows pinched.

Light blue eyes scanned the rest of the table. There were worst tools then the crop. Some contraptions he didn't know what they were for.

There were also tools for teasing; a couple of large peacock feathers at the table. The multicoloured ends fanned over a large piece of ivory, phallic shaped. He didn't know it that was customary or if he should be insulted.

His attention flicked back up onto the slave, cheeks back to their earlier flushed state.

"You can sit if you want. Don't just stand there."

He observed the prince with a mild sort of interest, watching with darkened eyes as he picked up and tested the crop, certainly not made for horse riding.

The disgusted expression as he dropped the crop back to the table bought an amused little huff from the slave's nose. Were they really that prudish in Alden? He'd known, of course, through his travellings as a youth, that the country was not as lavish and liberal as the kingdom of Ecrutez, but in his youth, he hadn't had a thought about how deep that went.

At the prince's order, he bowed his head in a nod and stepped forwards with his long-legged strides. He lowered himself, demurely, to his knees besides the lounge chair Richard had settled in previously. Once again his long hair pooled over one large thigh and the floor between his legs.

His head bowed slightly, but his eyes turned up to the prince.

Dick watched him walk towards the lounge chair.

Interestingly, he didn't walk like a slave. There was a certain sense of pride in his step. Quite unlike a lot of the other slaves he had seen.

He didn't mean for his eyes to wonder low. The thin, sheer material shimmering around between his thighs. It gave him a glimpse, a tease.

A finger smoothed under the collar of his neck as he turned back to the table to examine it, trying to think what he was going to do with it all. It didn't help the hotness under all his layers.

In the corner of his eye, he saw him settle down on the floor.

"You can sit on the chair, you know."

Richard wished he didn't look down. Dark eyes gazing up at him through thick lashes. He couldn't look away.

A tongue swiped over his lip, mouth dry.

Air escaped him through his nose again at the comment. The tone behind it was clear.

You're new to this.


There was a naivety, an unsoiled innocence to him that proved as much. He was from a place that didn't own people. They employed them, respected them.

Ecrutez did that, to a point. The castle employed as many men as they enslaved. Those men were respected, held as any respectable person would hold an employee.

Though their slaves had no identity. The slaves weren't even people. Just toys. Things to be used, played with.

Not treated like people, not have others suggest that they sit on furniture like a person.

He didn't move from his spot on the floor.

Even in his blushed state, he narrowed his eyes.

"Fine. Sit on the floor."

He began to shuffle some of the tools around on the table. Adjusting their positions just so. He let a bottle clatter to the floor as he picked up the long feather and tossed it to the side of the bed carelessly.

"Are you allowed to at least speak?"

He picked up a piece of silk and twisted it between his hands.

"You spoke Aldish earlier," he switched to his own tongue.

He didn't react to the snap, he didn't move or shift his eyes from the prince, just continued to watch him passively.

His brow raised when the prince began to fondle the toys and tools, his lip catching between his teeth as the length of silk was twisted between long, slim fingers. Silk was always a favourite of his. It was beautiful in its smooth, gentle feel, yet could be so much more if used right.

"If it pleases you," he countered in Aldish. His accent was still obvious, but he was well versed in the language. "I am for you to enjoy in any capacity you desire."

Dick held it tight. Then threw it in the same careless manner towards the bed.

"I would like to enjoy some decent conversation."

Looking down at the table, he sharply nudged the corner with his foot.

His attention turned back to where he tossed the selected tools. The bed was still made up.

Making his way over to it, he assessed it. Then kneeled onto the deep red sheets, hands smoothing over them. They were thin. Too thin for his liking, but it suited the warm climate here. It also meant they wrinkled and creased easier under his hand.

"Are the slaves taught languages here?"

Some were in the kingdom north of his. Only a handful. It depended on how much their master liked them and if wanted to show off their talents. Like teaching a dog a trick.

He lifted himself up on his knees, then knocked a few pillows about for good measure. A few bounced onto the floor.

He watched the silk flutter through the air, tongue teasing over the inside of his lower lip. The only way the movement would be noticed would be if Dick was staring at him intently enough that he'd noticed such a minor  twitch in his expression.

As he was currently sending a disgusted look at the table, he doubted the young man noticed at all.

The little screech the table gave as it slid across the ground under the pressure of Dick's foot had Fleck turning his head away to hide the scrunch of his face at the unpleasant sound. Atop the table, objected jerked, and some slid right off the edge of the table, clattering loudly to the floor. A small glass item shattered on impact, and shards of glass exploded in a brilliant display of pale blue sparks.

"No, my Prince. We are not taught anything of value outside of how to please a body." Their lessons came in the way of pleasing a man or woman's body through touches, or tastes, dancing for them, and for some slaves, singing for them. 

Language wasn't an important aspect of a slave's life. Some slaves, the ones that were taken on early enough from villages in the home country, had a limited vocabulary even in the Ecrutezian tongue. Some only spoke their countries language. Words were not necessary to please a body, so were not necessary for the slaves to know. Just stock phrases. 

My body is for your pleasure
Yes, sir/ma'am
No, sir/ma'am (permission was only rarely give to speak this phrase to their Masters)
They were taught to react to demands. Fetch me, Bring me, I want, I need.
To perform a task the second it was ordered with a polite whispered yes, sir.
To know what certain desirable objects were. Wine, food, chain, whip.


Complex language wasn't necessary.