The Devil’s Son Read Online Loki Renard

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 48568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
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It occurred to Sebastian rather late in the piece that he was in trouble. Real trouble. The kind of trouble only common men could be in. It was rather thrilling in a way, though he was disappointed that the knight did not seem to be giving into being wildly impressed by him.

“Come here,” Lucan ordered. “It’s time you had a taste of proper discipline.”

He reached out, wrapped an arm around the prince’s waist, and Sebastian, all too pleased to be touched in any way by Lucan, didn’t so much as consider resisting. He felt himself snugged sort of upside down and sideways against the knight’s body, and then he heard the swish of the lash. He still did not react, did not even become tense as the switch made contact with his rear for the first time.

He had not felt much pain before this day. But mere minutes ago he’d been thoroughly trounced on the bonce more than once. And now it was his rear that bore the brunt of the knight’s ire. Sebastian was very displeased to discover that it hurt quite as much as the stick did, just in a different way.

Given over the prince’s rather thin linen britches, the whipping was swift, harsh, and oh so deeply satisfying. Every time Lucan’s lash landed, Sebastian’s entire body contorted with hot flashes of pain.

He found himself entirely helpless as he learned what it was to be handled by a much stronger man. It was an experience that made shame and heat run through him in equal measure.

Lucan’s strength was incredible. No matter how Sebastian tried to wrench himself out of the knight’s grip, he was firmly held.

“You can stop that squirming,” Lucan lectured. “There’s no getting out of this.”

The knight propped his foot up on a stool and slung the prince over it. Sebastian’s hips were pressed hard against Lucan’s thigh, his cock rubbing against that muscular ridge. Did Lucan feel that? Did he know?

If he did, it did not stop him from whipping Sebastian’s ass until the prince yowled and wailed as he never had before. He was rock hard beneath his britches, consumed by a desire which made the pain in his rear not only manageable, but a kind of fuel for the forbidden internal fire that had nearly died down to little more than embers before this rough encounter.

This was his first true sexual experience, the first time he felt the flesh of another man urge and pleasure him toward a twisted release. Sebastian had seen others making love. The castle was full of lovers sneaking away into what they imagined were private corners. Thadecus’ court was a lustful one. But Sebastian himself had remained entirely innocent until this moment.

Sir Lucan might not know it, but he was making hot, painful love to the young prince. The limited contact involved in discipline might mean absolutely nothing to a knight accustomed to rough and tumble with men all day long, but was like a feast for someone as starved for male touch as Prince Sebastian.

Sebastian languished in Lucan’s arms, suffered under his lash, moaning and groaning, and finally felt a welling of pure pleasure rushing through his body until it exploded in his britches.

The instant, immense shame of orgasming surprised him with its intensity. He had never come with anybody before. Every climax of his life had been private. This one had taken place while the knight he worshipped continued to lash his ass. Lucan’s chainmail meant the knight had no idea what had happened, and so Sebastian was forced to deal with the aftermath of his ejaculation.

Lucan, neither knowing nor caring about the sexual state of the errant prince, continued to whip Sebastian until he started to cry. It hurt much more without arousal. Every time the lash landed he felt a hot, harsh explosion of pain rushing through him until there was so much pain, so much shame, and such a sense of being thoroughly punished, as he had never been punished before.

He started to sob, at which point the knight finally let him go, or at least stopped whipping him. He was not yet done with Sebastian, however. A lecture was still on the horizon.

“You are the prince of this kingdom, but if I ever see you cast magic, or attempt to sneak among the soldiers again, I will whip you like the lowliest urchin in all the Continental Kingdoms. Do you understand me?”

Unhanded, and therefore free to go, Sebastian fled, horrified at the idea someone might see him with a big wet patch on the front of his britches. He did not answer Lucan’s warning. He could not have looked the knight in the eye if he had wanted to. He certainly could not have formed a single word. Never before in Sebastian’s life had so much arousal coincided with so much humiliation.


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