Page 18 of Pawn of the Cruel Princess
“Keep it simple, then. Find out what your new thrall likes and reinforce good behavior with rewards. If he disobeys or fails repeatedly, use negative reinforcement.”
“Such as?”
“Perhaps he cannot use furniture for a week after he misbehaves,” Khal suggests. “Perhaps he must wear the nipple clamps or a restraint around his balls and cock. Perhaps he must kneel for a certain amount of time, or do a chore, or eat without using his hands. Anything to help him remember that he has displeased you. Always clarify why he is being punished.”
“Is all this really necessary?” she asks. “Surely there must be an easier way…”
Khal shakes his head with a sympathetic smile. “To do what I do, there is no shortcut. But each owner must decide what they want from their thrall. The more pliant, pleasant, and sexually skilled your thrall is, the more valuable he will be to you and to others. Before you lend him to anyone at Summerglee, you must be sure you can trust him to behave, or he will be an embarrassment, not an asset.”
The Princess nods, but I can tell she’s disturbed. Most likely she is frustrated by the vast amount of work that lies ahead of us both. Personally, I think I may vomit. All the gore I’ve seen in battle didn’t churn my guts as thoroughly as this conversation has.
Khal continues speaking. “Since you’re operating on a short timeline, my lady, I would focus on triggering him to get hard quickly with specific words, scents, or images. And teach him to last a long time before coming, even when he’s being subjected to physical stimulation. Quick arousal and stamina are two highly desirable traits in a male thrall.”
“Thank you for your advice, Khal,” says the Princess. They murmur a few more pleasantries to each other, he gives her a pair of jeweled nipple clamps, and then she beckons to me. “Come, thrall.”
We leave Khal’s mansion and descend the steps outside, flanked by the bodyguards. The moment we’re back in her carriage, the Princess pulls the curtains over the windows with a relieved exhale.
“Gods.” She tilts her head against the back of the cushioned seat. “Maybe I should give you to Vienne after all.”
Dread spikes in my gut. “I would rather stay with you,” I say quietly.
She frowns slightly, meeting my eyes. “But you wanted to be hers. You were disappointed when they took off the blindfold and you saw I was the one who claimed you.”
“At first, yes. But I’ve since had occasion to change my mind. I’m not saying I like you. You’re violent and disagreeable, with a sadistic streak. But you didn’t beat your sister to a pulp and drag your thrall from the room by his hair.”
“I would have beaten Vienne to a pulp if I were stronger.”
“Are you usually the one who starts those fights?” I counter.
Her eyes skew away from mine. “No.”
“Proof of my point. You and your sister are both unpredictable, savage, and cruel, but I would choose you every time.”
She doesn’t look at me, but she swallows. Puckers her lips. “Then mine you shall be,” she says at last. “But we’re not doing all of the things Khal does. I’ll devise my own kind of training for you.”
“As you command,” I say calmly.
Inwardly I shout a prayer of relieved thanks to the gods.
7
I have already let my thrall disobey me far too often.
He talked out of turn at least twice at Khal’s. And that stunt of his last night, jerking my ankle, pulling me on top of him—I was going to punish him for it this morning, but when he turned from my balcony, gilded with sun and smiling with those eyes of honeyed darkness—my insides swirled around and settled into new places.
I hated the feeling. I cursed at him for being awake and then I went into the bathing room to wash and hide awhile.
No, I wasn’thiding. I don’t hide.
But I do need my personal alone time. Unfortunately there isn’t much possibility of that for the next three days, since I have to spend every second getting him ready for Summerglee. And then we’ll be in close quarters with my sister and her entourage during the journey to the coast. And after that we'll be around people all the time for three horrible weeks.
I’m standing on my balcony, watching my sister and her thralls in the gardens below. She’s sitting on a bench with her skirts hiked up and Hennessy’s mouth between her legs while Ethwyn combs her hair. Two more thralls are tending to her nails, while another toys with her breasts through the fabric of her gown. She knows she’s in full view of my suite. She’s flaunting her retinue of obedient, skilled thralls. A clear message that although I may have gotten the man she wanted, he’s nowhere near as valuable or desirable as any of her thralls.
Whirling around, I march back inside.
I don’t care about her and her toys. She’s disgusting. Abhorrent.
Vienne took her first thrall at seventeen, but I’ve refused to consider taking a thrall until now, because—well, because I don’t like people touching me. And because I hate the idea of trapping another human in a choiceless cage. Apparently the growth of my ambition was all it took for me to abandon that tiny piece of moral high ground.
