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“Behave, and do whatever you’re told,” hissed Roth. “Or I’ll call a guard and our mealtime entertainment will be watching as you’re whipped.”
Boots thumped on the wood. “Wow, your Father really did get you a slave like he said.”
“Oh, shit, he’s branded too.”
Oriel tried to lean away from the people crowding too close. He bumped his Master’s leg, and Roth immediately grabbed his hair to tilt his head back, forcing him to face the four newcomers.
“Can you guess who he is?” asked Roth. "Look at his hair and eyes."
A couple appeared clueless, but the other two who shared a faint similarity to Roth seemed to know. One with cat ears but no tail spoke.
“The Crown Prince?” He touched a strand of Oriel’s black hair. “The purple sheen and eyes give it away.”
Roth’s tone was gloating. “Exactly, but he’s certainly not the Crown Prince anymore.”
“Father says you’re a traitor’s son,” said one. "He told me what your Father did."
The whole damn Kingdom probably knew by now. Of course, Oriel’s humiliation in front of the King had spread like wildfire.
“How does it feel to know that you’re the son of a piece of shit?” one asked with a laugh before he looked at Roth. “I’m surprised your Father didn’t kill him. King Leneer let your cousin hang for nothing.”
“He was satisfied with some torture and to let me have him. Put your hands flat and your forehead to the ground. Stick your ass up. You’ll stay like that until I say so.”
Oriel must have been a bit too slow since the cane whacked his ass. Someone, although he couldn’t tell if it was Roth or the nearby friend, pinched one of the welts on his ass, and he flinched.
He was ignored after that while the rest ate and talked. Oriel couldn’t really follow the conversation, and they brought up others that he didn’t know or care to know.
A month ago, he never would have imagined for a second that he'd be a naked, collared slave and forced to wait like this because a lord’s son said so.
A servant came at some point to ask if they needed anything. One said to bring more wine.
“Water it down with more of the mango juice,” said Roth.
The servant returned with more, and dishes clanked. Once she left again, one of the guests said that the mangoes didn’t seem quite as sweet this year. The flippant complaint sparked fury in Oriel’s chest, and he struggled to not clench his fists. He’d spend his life being raped and treated like a dog, but boohoo, the mangoes weren’t as sweet this year.
Roth’s boots shifted as he reached down to stroke his pet while they kept talking for a minute.
“Have you used his ass yet?”
“I just got him,” said Roth. “I’ve barely had time to do anything with him.”
“Have him suck you off. Let’s see if the traitor’s son can take a dick properly.”
“What’s your preference, slave?" asked Roth. "I’m curious, not that it matters for you. Men or women?"
Oriel barely had time to say anything, and a smack on his asscheek made him jerk slightly. “Answer," snapped another.
“Men,” said Oriel.
Roth slapped his other ass cheek. “Try that again, and answer properly. When someone else asks you a question, it’s Sir, but when you address me, it's Master.”
“Men, Master,” said Oriel.
“Have you ever been with a woman?” asked the friend.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Make him suck you off. King Leneer’s corpse would roll over if he knew his son was swallowing your cum.”
