The Prince’s Boy: 52

[ravenna_c_tan]

52: Jorin

If there was a lesson to be learned over the next few days of training under Sergetten, it was that my cock had a mind all its own. I could no more make it rise on command before him than I had been able to make it lie quiet the night the king had banished me. Sergetten snarled and snapped at me, as if he were more frustrated by my inability than I was myself.

He had me on all fours and was merely strapping me with full force across the buttocks when I thought to ask whether he truly expected me to be able to accomplish it, or whether it was merely a test–an excuse to lay into me. When his arm grew tired and I caught my breath, that is what I asked.

He threw down the strap and I saw it skitter across the wooden floor, coming to a stop just to the side of my hand. He reached under me, where he found, to my chagrin, that I had stiffened during the beating. “I need no excuse to stripe or flay you,” he reminded me.

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