The Spoiled Prince, Part 9
CW: graphic branding, begging, brainwashing, pet whump
Callum fell asleep shortly after Alvard left. He awoke to the sound of Evine’s voice. “Please, if you hurt him any more he could die! He isn’t used to this. Couldn’t he get shocked or something?”
“The phrase is “go into shock”, and I can handle it if he does. Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened in these cells and I’m sure it won’t be the last either.” Callum felt a boot connect with his side and he grunted, turning onto the opposite side and curling in on himself.
“What do you want? Haven’t you done enough to me already?” Callum all but whispered. His collar was still on, but had been dirtied by the cell. Alvard didn’t mind; he was used to the layer of grime that covered things here.
“I haven’t done nearly as much as I plan to, pet.” He walked around Callum and kicked his wounds on his back, making the boy cry out in pain and arch backwards, stretching the already shredded skin.
“Please, your majesty, give him some time to heal. Then you can do whatever you want.” Evine tried to plead with the unfeeling golden eyes.
“But I can do whatever I want now, why would I want to wait?” He ignored any further pleas from Evine and addressed the man on the floor beneath him. “Lie on your back.”
Callum tried to respond calmly. “Well you see, I can’t do that because some twat decided to whip me-” He let out another sharp shout as the boot behind him connected with his back again. With a great deal of muttering he slowly eased onto his back.
“Now,” Alvard began, walking a few steps away, “you still haven’t obeyed both rules from yesterday. Do you remember what they were?”
“Always eat your veggies and-”
“Incorrect. They were ‘Do not remove your collar.’ And ‘Address me as Master.” You have only followed one of them. This is your chance to change your mistake.”
“I haven’t made any.”
“Fine.” An iron rod appeared in the king’s hand, around three feet long and half an inch thick. Callum could see it had some sort of shape on the end out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t care to be beaten again, but he supposed things could be worse.
“I’ve been thinking,” said Alvard, waving the rod dramatically, “that you should have some sort of identifying mark in case you try to run away. On the off chance you would be stupid enough to try that.”
“Of course I wouldn’t do that.” Callum was half sarcastic, but there was something dangerously close to begging in his voice.
“Of course.” The king’s face drew into a mocking pout. “But better be safe than sorry.” He grinned and brought the shape at the end of the rod to his empty hand. His hand glowed with heat, and Callum realised what he was about to do.
“No wait!” Without looking down, Alvard placed a boot squarely on his diaphragm, the toe of his boot just barely touching the top of his sternum. Callum wriggle under the force, trying to get away. “Just wait a minute, we can talk about this.” Panic was quickly seeping into his words.
The shape now glowing red-hot, the king bent down and ripped Callum’s already ruined shirt down the front, and then around the arms so it came off in tatters. The prince tried to lift his arms to protect his chest, but the manacles were stuck behind Alvard’s calf. “Now try not to squirm. It’ll hurt more if you do.” The king said as he slowly brought the heated shape toward Callum’s left pectoral, trying to line it up straight between his shoulder and nipple. The prisoner watched it approach with increasing fear. He felt bile rise in his throat. “Master, please.” He said quietly. A little debasement now to avoid permanent scars. He told himself.
“Sorry, what was that?” The brand moved farther away from his skin.
“Master, please don’t do this.” He said it clearly now, trying to ignore Evine’s stare from the other cell. “Please, Master, I’ll follow the rules.”
“Very good!” Alvard and Callum both smiled, one in triumph the other in relief. The brand plunged into the prince’s skin, making him scream. He could feel his skin bubbling and popping in the red-hot agony on his chest. “But too little too late. You had your chance earlier. Remember next time that my mercy will only extend to a certain point.” Callum felt the metal pull some of his skin with it as it left his chest. “But I am proud of our progress today. If you thank me now, we can be done for the day. What do you say?”
Callum gritted his teeth in pain and anger. “Thank you, Master.”
“Well done, pet. See you tomorrow.” The boot left his chest as Alvard disappeared.
Evine could see the brand as Callum sat up. It was a basic diamond shape with a line connecting the two obtuse points. Alvard’s family’s royal symbol; he knew it from his studies. He stared at it before looking at Callum’s face. “Are you okay?”
“Leave me alone. And when we get out of here, don’t tell anyone what happened. I just said that to get him to stop. You would do the same.” Callum huffed as much of a scoff as he could muster in his current condition. “In fact, I recall you would say anything to me a few times.”
His smile fell after he turned away. Does that mean I was as cruel as Mas- King Alvard? He thought to himself. How could I have treated someone that way and thought it was normal? He started to realise that he had worse in store for him than Evine had ever endured by his hand. Maybe it’s what I deserve.
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