Deon watched with growing dread, eyes flicking between the prince and his brother.

"Down." The prince indicated the floor and Deon lowered himself uncertainly. His heart thudded, when a sand covered foot pressed onto his head and forced his cheek against sun-warmed stone.

He felt Alen's hands on his hips, guiding them up, until his ass was high in the air. His cock hung flaccid between his legs and his face flushed hot with shame.

Alen's fingers slid between his buttocks, and pressed inside to slick his bruised passage. A sharp ache spread from the area and Deon swallowed convulsively.

"That's enough." The prince snapped.

Alen's fingers withdrew and then the warm tip of his cock was pressing inside. Pain sliced up his spine and a small sound escaped his throat.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Alen and Deon had only kissed and used their hands to explore each other, almost innocently. And even when they had fought, they always made up sweetly.

But this felt wrong. Dirty. They were siblings performing an unnatural act in front of an audience.

This wasn't about pleasure. It was humiliation and Deon felt it to his core. He was the one who protected Alen. He was always the strong one. The masculine one.

And all the soldiers, that he had admired, were probably watching too. They would never accept him now.

His eyes smarted and he grit his teeth. Alen was moving now and each thrust brought on a fresh roil of pain.

Deon clenched his hands against the stone. He hated his brother in that moment. He knew Alen wouldn't want this, but it still felt like a betrayal.

"Faster." The prince ordered and Alen obeyed, even though his back had to be hurting. With a strangled gasp Alen came, cock twitching inside Deon, before it pulled out. Quick and impersonal.

A trickle of wetness slid over Deon's balls and thigh, and he shuddered, throat tight with supressed tears.

"Jessa." The prince said and Deon jerked with shock. The heel on his head ground him harder against the stone.

He listened to Jessa's feet pad swiftly over the floor and felt himself start to tremble. The thought of being touched by that boy was repulsive.

He wanted to tear away and run. But he knew he wouldn't get far and his next punishment would no doubt be worse than this.

Jessa gripped Deon's hips hard enough to bruise and jammed his prick inside. It hurt much worse this time. It became clear that Alen had been holding back, because his thrusts hadn't been anywhere near this painful.

One by one, the boys all had him. The pain started to morph into a pounding nausea that made Deon fear he was about to vomit, but the moment passed and left him sweating.

The prince eventually lost interest and resumed his conversation, as if nothing was amiss.

And that was when Deon started to cry. He tried not to make a sound, but his shoulders shook and tears ran down his cheeks.

When the final boy had finished, Deon didnt know who, and stepped away, the prince seemed to remember Deon's existence again.

He lifted his foot off the boy's head, gripped his jaw and spat right on his mouth. "You're a whore. Say it."

"I-I'm a w-whore." Deon attempted, fighting the reflex to wipe his lips. He felt saliva dribble sickeningly down his chin.

"Again."

"I'm a whore." Deon said more loudly and the prince released him. He ordered all of his boys to spit on Deon and had the guards drag him away.

The slaves thankfully took him to his room, where they filled a large tub and helped him sit.

Deon stared blankly into the water as the women washed his skin. He felt lightheaded and distant, as if he was sleepwalking, and involuntary tremors kept wracking his body.

The healer arrived and shooed out the younger women. She dried him off and applied a cooling balm gently between his legs. Then she made him drink a cup of earthy tea and tucked him into bed.

Deon's eyes closed and he was asleep almost instantly, but it wasn't long before he woke with a start. His dreams were haunted by fog and unseen hands clawing at his skin.

Fire raged between his legs and left him panting. He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn't.

Sometime during the night, his door opened. Deon froze and hid his face in his pillow.

"Seyin." The prince murmured and Deon felt his blanket slide from his skin. He shook and whimpered when a hand stroked down his back. Warm and possessive. "Come now, look at me."

For an instant Deon wanted to resist, but he didn't dare to. Slowly, he turned, gasping when the movement made his ass throb. The prince pressed a cup to his lips. "Drink."

Deon crushed his eyes shut and drank, nearly choking on the sharp flavor. A few drops trickled down his cheek and neck. The prince murmured soothingly and stroked Deon's hair.

When the cup was empty he placed it on the nightstand and wiped the boy's face with a cloth. It made Deon feel very young and helpless.

He shut his eyes tight again and felt the man move over him, caging Deon with his arms. He lowered himself and covered the boy in warm sleek skin. Large hands cupped his buttocks, gently tugging them apart and then a hot tip was pushing inside his raw channel.

Deon released a strangled cry and twisted his head away, until his neck ached.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" The prince breathed against his ear, cock a large, unforgiving rod inside him. "Do you like pain?"

"...no." Deon choked out, eyes blinded by tears.

"Then stop resisting." Lips feathered down his exposed throat, tongue flicking against his skin.

I'm not. Deon wanted to say, but in that moment the prince's hips tilted and rubbed over a spot that made the boy shout and sob with agony.

He kept rubbing it over and over, until Deon became hoarse and his skin was wet with sweat. He was stretched far too wide. He couldn't breathe. But something strange was happening. His cock was hard.

A horrible pleasure was building and the boy's sobs mixed with moans.

The prince's hand caressed him, sweeping over his ribs, to his hip and up again. It was confusing. Why was he acting gentle and cruel at the same time? Was this a punishment? A reward?

He never stopped kissing Deon's throat, licking him, and murmuring silkily in his ear. When a strong hand squeezed Deon's cock, his orgasm was white hot and painful.

Afterwards, he was barely conscious and he felt the prince pull him closer like a rag doll.

The flesh inside him was moving faster now and the prince came with a low groan. He stayed that way for long moments, just holding Deon, while his cock softened inside the boy.

It barely hurt anymore. In fact, Deon was starting to feel a warmth curl through him and his skin tingled. The world was tilting and only the heavy body on top of him kept him from falling off the bed.

When the man kissed him, he opened his mouth. He felt each glide of tongue like a tug in his groin and his cock thickened.

When the prince touched him there, he moaned with pleasure. It built and built, in sweet bursts as their mouths moved. Heat and slick and quickening breaths, until he came a second time.

The prince was hard again now and his hips began to rock with a squelching sound. Cock pushing slow and deep, touching that delicous spot that made Deon tremble.

Their lips parted and Deon caught a flash of heavy lidded silver eyes, staring down at him like a demon in the dark. He opened his arms and let it drag him under.