hypnotising a prince to feel aroused and dumb every time he hears the words ‘your majesty’, ‘your grace’, or ‘your highness’
setting the trigger into effect at a ball, where all of his court and subjects have to greet him with his title. he sits on his throne in beautiful lavish attire, regal and generously welcoming all his guests to the event. but his loyal knight can see the sweat on his brow, the way he’s panting and biting his lip, and how fidgety he is, pressing his legs together with every moment he isn’t greeting a court member
“are you doing alright, your majesty?” the knight asks.
the prince almost bucks in his seat and makes a tiny whimper. “i… yes. i’m perfectly fine. thank you for the concern, sir.”
the formalities keep going, and the prince finds it harder and harder to focus, his head swimming and warm. he keeps his script going, welcoming every guest into the palace and inviting them to partake in the festivities, but he’s squirming in his seat when he thinks no one will notice, and his eyes keep flicking to all of his male guest’s cocks…
the final guest, a king from an allied kingdom. he is broad and handsome, and finely dressed. ‘your majesty.’ he smiles with all the charm in the world.
the prince moans, and the ballroom goes silent. he claps his hand over his face, bright red, all decorum vanished. he lets out a polite cough, before returning to his script and inviting the king to the festivities. with a curious look, the king nods and moves to the dancefloor. the guests go back to their conversation, gossiping about the king’s rumoured… size.
with formalities done, the prince quickly scrambles to an adjacent room, trying to calm himself. he stares into a mirror and sees he is flushed, pupils blown, lips swollen, and hair mussed. he smoothes it out and tries to ignore his sensitive chest and growing wetness between his legs, taking a deep breath before holding his head high and joining into the festivities.
the neighbouring king is in the centre of the palace dancefloor, politely chatting to some court members, but he looks over to the prince with a smile as he walks over. ‘your majesty.’
the prince squeaks as heat pulses between his legs and his head swims, but he hides it with a cough. he gives a quick bow, not thinking about how much he wants to be bent over… ‘your highness. i wanted to ask your forgiveness for my lack of decorum upon your arrival. i hope i have not offended you.’
the king’s smile broadens, and the prince melts. ‘not at all, your highness. i found it rather… endearing.’ he swears he sees his eyes flick downwards.
‘right.’ the prince says. he feels dazed, and he can’t pull his eyes from the king’s lips, framed by a handsome beard. ‘um-’
‘your majesty,’ the king says, seemingly ignoring the gasp from the prince, ‘could i have this dance?’ he holds out a calloused hand, rough from all his many battles, and the prince, buzzing with arousal and confusion, takes his hand and they move to the dancefloor.
‘i must say, your majesty, the tales do not do justice to your handsome visage.’ the king murmurs as they circle each other, a hand raised each to connect their palms.
‘huh?’ the prince says dumbly, the spinning and the heat between his legs, pulsing once again at the sound of his title, turning his thoughts fuzzy and incoherent.
‘here, your highness,’ the king brings the prince to his chest, scandalously close as they continue to turn. ‘i know it’s hard to think, isn’t it, your grace?’
‘mmm… yes…’ the prince mumbles, then sobers for a second and looks up. ‘wait… how did you…?’
the king gives him a devious smile. ‘i see my advisor found you, your highness.’
the prince bites back a soft moan and the king laughs and holds him closer to his chest.
‘that’s right, your majesty. every time you hear your title. prince… highness… majesty…’ every title the king whispers is punctuated by a moan, and he sneaks a hand under the prince’s fineries to tease his chest, drawing out another whine. ‘you get a little bit more aroused between what i’m sure are beautiful legs, and it gets a little harder to think in that pretty head.’
the rest of the dance floor are sneaking glances at them, and the prince straightens to try and keep up appearances, despite practically clinging to the king as he gropes his chest. ‘w-why… i don’t…’
‘i heard all the tales about the beautiful prince in the nearby kingdom, and, well, i suppose i could have met you, courted you, perhaps even offered a marriage proposal… and that might come in good time, your highness.’ he places a kiss on the shuddering prince’s head, stroking his hair. ‘but i thought about such a beautiful, handsome prince, begging for me like a slut, and i couldn’t resist.’
he spins the prince around, laughing as he wobbles on confused and aroused legs. the prince, despite everything, curls back into the king’s broad chest, bucking his hips into him.
‘oh, good boy.’ the king purrs. ‘i bet you’re soaked, aren’t you, highness? hard and desperate between your legs, and completely empty between your ears, aren’t you?’
the prince stares up at the king, crown and wide eyes glittering. he nods and a deep, quiet, drawn out moan escapes his mouth.
‘you want my cock, don’t you?’ the king smiles as the prince nods desperately. ‘i bet i could bend you over right here like a cheap whore and fuck you in front of all your court. the powerful, handsome prince, reduced to a drooling, moaning mess bouncing on my cock. i bet i could get you to beg for that too, to ruin your reputation and have you, the proud prince of your kingdom on his knees, begging to suck a king’s cock. they’d never see you as anything but a cockdrunk whore again.’
the prince whimpers and finds his words, ‘f-fuck… i can’t… but…’ he whines. ‘fuck. fuck i need you to fuck me. i don’t care where you fuck me, i don’t care if anyone sees, i need your cock, please!’
‘so good for me, your majesty.’ the king growls. he turns the prince around and whispers in his ear. ‘take us to a private room, your highness. i’ll save your reputation and fuck you somewhere private, sweetheart.’
