Vengeance Painted With Lust

Chapter 17

The Trisan lord was angry. Very angry. He beat Ettiene until he was a crimson mess, laying on the floor, but his expression wasn’t defeated. He could take being kicked until his ribs snapped, so long as the man kept his nether extremities away from him.

Lord Vulhen stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut loudly.

Ettiene laid there for a while, not even lifting his head. The current situation he was in brought to light the difference between his two captors. He thought he had been mistreated before, but this was a whole new experience. He was too proud to sit around and feel sorry for himself. Instead, he picked himself up gingerly and walked around the room. The door was locked to the exit, and the window was locked also. He was fairly certain he could break it, but it was entirely too high for him to make an escape without killing himself.

As he peered out of the glass, he took hold of the emerald hanging from his neck. He looked ahead sorrowfully. He wasn’t sure if Surian would help him, but things were much too dire for him to not try.

Ettiene pulled away from the window, picking up a plant that sat on one of the tables. He pulled the purplish green vines from the soil and discarded them. He took a seat, cross legged on the ground, and began spreading the sooty dirt out in the formation that was needed. Surian had taught him how to do this. While back in the demon world they used some other material, the demon had told him anything earthy that was moldable would work.

He did everything right, calling on what little magic he possessed. When nothing happened, he tried it several more times, changing variables. He was starting to look a little defeated.

Sitting there on the floor, he removed shards of glass from his hand.

He didn’t see Vulhen for several days. Someone brought him some water once a day, but nothing to eat. He didn’t care. They could starve him so long as no one touched him again.

Vulhen came in and Ettiene was sleeping on the floor. The large man kicked him roughly and the prince jerked his eyes open.

“That damned mare of yours just ripped out someone’s throat,” he spoke, his expression unreadable.

The only thing that registered with Ettiene was that they had his horse.

“She isn’t from this world. How did you obtain her?”

“A demon gave her to me,” he answered.

The man almost looked like he didn’t believe him. He them moved to sit back in his bed, and a few minutes later a servant brought him in a large platter of roast pork and colorful vegetables. The little human almost reminded him of Enil. He had a vague red tint to his hair, and was scrawny like his slave used to be. The servant left without making eye contact with either of them.

“Make yourself useful and I may decide to feed you.”

Ettiene set his jaw, ignoring the man completely. He had much more willpower then this man seemed to believe he possessed.

Vulhen left him, taking the food with him, but returned later that night. He carried in two glasses of wine, handing one to the prince sitting on the floor. Ettiene took it, eyeing the substance for a moment before he threw it to the trisan lord. It crashed at the man’s feat, and he sighed.

“You’re such a little bastard,” Vulhen spoke, finishing off his wine.

Ettiene just glared at him, keeping distance between them.

Vulhen climbed into his bed, gesturing for Ettiene to join him. The little prince looked as if the man had suddenly grown two heads. The idea was preposterous, and also disgusting.

While the lord seemed to be calm and relaxed, it changed in an instant. He swept himself off the bed and grabbed Ettiene quickly. Forcefully, he threw the little prince down into the sheets. He fisted blond hair roughly, making sure that Ettiene was looking at him. The expression that washed over the prince’s face was revulsion and fear.

“You are fucking worthless. If your pretty mouth isn’t good for answering my questions, I may have a better use for it,” he spoke, holding Ettiene still as he ran his teeth along the prince’s collarbone. He kept his mouth in the same area, sucking and biting, as he removed the youth’s shirt.

Vulhen then turned the little blond over swiftly, placing his hand in the middle of Ettiene’s abused back, forcing him down into the blankets. His hands ran along the curve of the prince’s ass, and Ettiene squirmed, folded over the side of the bed.

“Stop touching me!” the prince demanded. He sounded angry now more then anything else.

Vulhen chuckled at him as his hands slid underneath the trousers Ettiene was wearing, knowing there was nothing the young man could do. Fingers explored private areas as the blond tried everything to get away from the hands.

Soon, his pants were pulled down and Ettiene shivered, his eyes starting to water. He clenched them shut once he heard the ruffling of other clothing. Vulhen pressed against his body, biting tender spots on his shoulder. It sickened Ettiene when he felt the man’s disgusting appendage against his skin. Vulhen was hard, that much was evident.

He thrashed savagely once the man started to probe along his ass. His arm was jerked back behind him harshly, and Ettiene screamed. With the pain of his shoulder nearly being torn from its socket came a new pain. Vulhen found the prince’s entrance and thrust in sharply, without prelude, and without lubrication.

Ettiene wailed, tears streaking his pretty olive skin, his toes pushing against the floor, trying to seek enough leverage to get away. The pain was searing as Vulhen thrust into his body. He closed his eyes again, trying to get away from the experience. He thought of Surian briefly, flashes of his lean body moving with his.

Rough fingers gripped Ettiene’s hip, seeking a better angle. The little prince screamed with each new twist.

“Go ahead. Keep screaming like that. You constrict around me and it feels divine,” the man spoke as he sped up his pace, resting his forehead in the middle of Ettiene’s back.

Vulhen drug it out for quite some time, and it stung something awful when he finally came inside the prince. Ettiene hissed, his throat raw. He willed up the anger he felt and did manage to kick the man as he was pulling out. The prince was disgusted as he felt liquid running between his legs. He knew there had to be blood. His insides felt irreparable. Bitterly, he thought Araih would have a cure for such things.

He was picked up again and carried into a bath chamber, where he was dropped on the warm stone floor.

“Clean yourself up.”

Ettiene was left alone, though he was sure either the door was locked or there was a guard placed outside. He assessed the damage done to his body and shuddered. There was indeed blood, and other things caked to his thighs. He crawled into the water, wanting nothing more then to rinse the filth off of himself. He thought for a moment about holding himself under the water and not resurfacing. Anything to get away from such indignities.

Then he thought of Surian and realized there had to be some way of getting in contact with him. He really hoped the demon lord hadn’t done something to break the connection with the necklace.

Ettiene sighed, rubbing his body clean. The water stung his abused hole, and he only managed to graze over it once or twice. He sat in the water and soaked for quite a while, helping to loosen the dried blood along his back. When he got out he tried the spell again, this time using the water to do the design. He held the necklace tightly and felt his magic seeping into the stone. It didn’t work though. Nothing happened after several minutes, and he slumped forward, a sob wracking his entire body.

Vulhen came in and wrapped him in a robe a little while later. He picked the youth up and Ettiene’s expression turned to that of disgust. He was carried back to that same room, noticing that it had been cleaned up, and dumped one again on the floor.

“We need to get you presentable. We will be having a dinner tonight,” the man spoke, picking out things for the young prince to wear. Ettiene refused at first, but with force, Vulhen had him in the appropriate clothing. He also brushed out the tangles that were surely caused by him.

Suddenly, Vulhen was trying to wrap a silver and gold collar around his neck. That was the final straw. He got up suddenly, swinging at the large man. His fist collided with Vulhen’s jaw, and the man staggered back a step or two, looking at the prince in disbelief.

“I am not a slave,” Ettiene clarified. He hadn’t been for Surian, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to be for this moron.

“No. Slaves are treated much better,” Vulhen spoke with a chuckle.