Tursed my worid upside down

Egor was accompanied by two guards. They went down into some basement with a long corridor. Torches hung on the walls, but their light was enough to barely make out the road. Gray concrete walls and many doors - that's what the young man could make out while he was being led to the other end of the corridor, where they stopped in front of a massive iron door.

"We've brought a new slave - one of the escorts said loudly."

A few minutes later, the sound of a bolt being pulled back was heard, and the door swung open. The soldiers pushed Egor forward, and he found himself in a spacious room. Here, unlike the long corridor, the lighting was excellent. Fireplaces were burning along the walls on three sides. Egor could say that it was even cozy here, if you didn't take into account the many chains driven into the wall and something like a cross standing in the center of the room.

Egor immediately understood what he was destined for. Not every future slave agrees to this fate voluntarily. The young man swallowed. He broke out in a cold sweat when he noticed a small brazier next to the cross and a long stick, which was intended for burning the slave mark on a person's body. Yegor agreed to this now. He intuitively took a few steps back, but something poked him in the back.

"Just one?" the old hunched man who opened the door for them asked in surprise.

"This slave is destined for Prince Klaus. Put his personal brand on him."

"Take him to the cross," the old man said indifferently, checking the fire and putting a brand with a smooth surface on an iron stick. The old man touched the iron with his finger and a relief pattern formed on the brand's recently empty surface.

The soldiers grabbed Egor by the arms and dragged him into the middle of the room, where shackles gleamed ominously on the wooden beams.

"No!" the young man tried to resist. "You don't need to chain me! I agreed to this voluntarily!"

"Boy, believe me, there is no other way," the old man told him indifferently, without being distracted from his work.

Egor's instincts told him to run, but the iron grip of two trained soldiers nipped all attempts at resistance in the bud. And now, the fair-haired guy, pale with fear, is already chained by the legs and arms. The short chains do not even allow him to move his limbs. His eyes are widened, his pulse is accelerated to the maximum and fear signals the body to switch off, which Egor does. The last thing he sees is a piece of iron glowing in the fire, and then darkness. The young man has lost consciousness.

He woke up just a few seconds later from terrible pain and the smell of fried meat. His wrist was hissing under the red-hot seal, and new sensations clouded his mind, but it did not last long, leaving behind pulsating burnt skin. Egor could not even scream. He had never experienced anything like this in his life. As soon as the red-hot iron was removed from his hand, he hung exhausted on the chains and took a deep breath. Now he was Klaus's slave, as evidenced by a fresh burn in the form of a sun blocking a half-full moon. Lightning crossed the junction of the two luminaries, and the whole picture was completed by three circles around. This was a distinctive sign that said that the slave was not the property of the ruling royal family, but the personal servant of Prince Klaus Deffender.

The shackles were unfastened. The young man fell to the floor like a sack. One of the soldiers jerked him up by his uninjured arm.

"I don't understand at all why the prince needs such a small and weak slave!" the one who held him was indignant.

"He's cute, maybe he uses him for pleasure?"

"Oh, come on, it's not at all necessary to make him a personal slave, and of the highest rank at that!" the second one laughed.

"Take him to the bathhouse. They will take care of him and deliver him to the prince's chambers, instead of wagging their tongues!" the old man stopped the conversation irritably. "Your job is to follow orders, not to guess about Your Highness's preferences and the purpose of a slave!"

Grumbling with discontent, the guards nevertheless led Egor out the iron door and dragged him along a long corridor. The young man no longer cared what they would do with him next, the main thing was that he heard - he would be taken to Klaus's room after all this horror.

The boy was led into one of the many rooms in the corridor. The guards left, leaving him in the care of two boys who were no more than fourteen years old. These children knew their business, and Egor did not have the strength to resist.

His maimed arm was treated and carefully bandaged, his dirty clothes were removed, he was washed and dressed in a loose, pleasant to the body purple robe. It was not made of the same rough fabric as those that the boys were wearing. "So, the status of a slave also gives some privileges over others," Egor thought fleetingly.

"The guards should come for you soon. You can sit on the bench and wait for them for now," said one of the boys, while putting away the clothes and the means that they used to put Egor in order.

He didn't have to wait long. This time, two women entered the bathhouse. Their appraising glance passed over Egor. The girls were clearly not impressed by the picture they saw.

"The young prince is waiting for you in his chambers." One of them said, and then turned her gaze to the boys. "Why is he dressed in purple?"

"We were told that this slave is of the highest rank, and we dressed him as befits."

"Yes?" the second one raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Maybe you misunderstood something? If the prince is waiting for him in his chambers, and not in the office, then you definitely messed up with the outfit."

The boys looked at each other in fear and began to fuss. Egor had no idea what they were talking about or why they were raising such a fuss over his clothes. He did not resist while they pulled off his purple robe and put on another one, similar to the one the girls were wearing, but with a few differences.

His new clothes were shorter and barely reached the middle of his thigh. Naturally, he was not given any underwear. From the neck to the middle of his chest, this awkward outfit was decorated with lacing, loosely tied and revealing his chest. If the girls' outfits were pink, then his looked like blood flowing from a freshly opened artery.

Nodding in satisfaction, one of the girls came up close to the guy.

"Get up, it's time to go to the prince. He was already made to wait for a long time."

There was no need to repeat it a second time. The young man stood up and obediently followed the girls. Egor's legs still didn't hold him up well, but inspired by the fact that his suffering was finally over, the guy did not pay any attention to his weakness.

They left the basement rooms by another route, more like labyrinths behind the walls of the main rooms. After going up several flights of spiral stairs, the girls opened a door, and the whole company found themselves in another corridor. At least it was dry and light here because of the numerous torches. Three young slaves in gray stood at one of the doors, holding trays, two of which were bursting with wine, fruit, thinly sliced ​​dried meat and cheese. On the third, Yegor noticed several clay vessels, what he could not understand in them.

"You are free," the same talkative girl addressed the slaves, taking a tray from one of them, the second did the same, and both looked expectantly at Egor.

The young man came to his senses and took the remaining tray with various vessels. The girls very gracefully held their burdens with one hand, knocked on the door.

"Come in," the prince's irritated voice was heard, and Egor involuntarily smiled.

The room turned out to be spacious, but practically empty. In the center stood a huge bed, where five people could easily fit. A canopy of airy, translucent and dazzlingly snow-white fabric hung on massive, carved pillars. It was tied on four sides and revealed a high, soft feather bed and a dozen pillows. At the foot of the bed was a low and wide couch, and in front of it a table, also low and unadorned. The window shutters were closed, and the room was lit only by a brightly burning fireplace.

The sight of the fire made Egor shudder slightly, and he instinctively touched his bandaged hand with his fingers. The girls put charming smiles on their faces and, swaying their hips, slowly approached the low table, setting out snacks and wine. One sat down on the couch, crossing her legs. The light fabric of her outfit revealed her slender legs. The second approached Klaus, took him by the arm and led him to her friend. Yegor remained in the doorway with his tray, not knowing what to do.

"Enough," Klaus easily freed his hand, turning to the girl, and she bowed her head.

"I apologize, Your Highness, for my rudeness, but we thought that it would not hurt you to relax a little. Your new slave, apparently, is not trained..."

"Enough!" the prince interrupted her rudely, and his face was distorted either with disgust or anger. "Who told you to prepare him anyway," he pointed his hand towards Egor, who still hadn't moved from his place "for...," he fell silent and made an indefinite gesture with his hand.

"It was my mistake," the second girl stood up from her place in fear and fell to her knees, bowing her head low. "The slaves dressed him in purple, but I misunderstood your order to bring him to your chambers and asked him to change his clothes as expected."

Klaus softened a little, casting a searching glance at Egor, who tried to straighten his too-short clothes. For some reason, he was embarrassed by the prince's intense gaze.

"You may go free," the prince addressed the slaves "tell them that in the morning I want to see a set of clothes worthy of a warrior close to the prince on my new slave, and not this," he looked at Egor skeptically.

The girls bowed again and quickly left the room.

"Will you be standing there for long?" Klaus asked more relaxedly. "Do you want to eat?"

Egor slowly walked to the table, put his load down and sat down on the couch with great relief. Alone with Klaus, he felt calm. The young man reached out to the plates and took an appetizing piece of meat, threw it into his mouth whole and began to chew with pleasure. Klaus smiled and joined his friend.

Having eaten his fill and completely relaxed, Yegor reached out to one of the bottles, turned it over in his hands and, leaning his elbows against the headboard, asked Klaus:

"What is this?"

"This is lubricant, and in that one," he pointed to the second vessel with a wide neck, "there is aromatic oil, and here," he pointed to a tall jug, "there is incense that kindles desire."

Egor felt his face burning. He quickly put the jar back and looked at Klaus, who was sipping wine with a serene look.

"Sorry, I probably shouldn't have come. More precisely, I didn't know that you, well..., anyway, I didn't want to interfere. They brought me without asking," he blurted out something incoherent and blushed even more.

Klaus laughed. Egor rarely saw the prince's sincere laughter. He calmed down a little and smiled too.

"Actually, this is all," he pointed at the set, which remained standing on the tray, "brought for you."

"What do you mean?" Egor was taken aback. "But I, how could I..."

"Relax. They just decided that you would be my bed slave," a wry smile, "so they dressed you in this and sent two girls to warm me up."

Egor's face flushed with renewed vigor when he realized what all these people were thinking while they were preparing him. He felt so ashamed that he grabbed his face with his hands and groaned loudly.

"I'm telling you, relax. Tomorrow this misunderstanding will clear up as soon as you appear next to me in warrior clothes."

Egor looked up at Klaus.

"I'm sorry you had to endure such shame!"

"What are you talking about?" the prince looked at his friend in bewilderment.

"Well, everyone thought you were sleeping with a guy. It's... well..."

"It's okay," Klaus chuckled. "Highborn people can indulge in any whims, especially a boy or a girl, what difference does it make? If there is desire or feelings. Many highborn ladies get themselves slaves for pleasure, and men get boys. So they don't consider their intimate games a betrayal or treason."

"So you don't care if your uncle decides that I'm sleeping with you?"

"Absolutely. Let's go to bed already? I'm so tired." And Klaus jumped on the bed with a running start, burying his nose in the pillow like a child.

Egor hesitated for a moment, watching the prince roll over onto his back and, raising his body, try to take off his pants without getting up. As soon as he finished fiddling, he looked questioningly at Egor.

"Don't worry," the prince grinned "I won't pester you," he hit the bed with his palm a couple of times, inviting Egor to lie down. "Unless, of course, you ask yourself," a sly smile lit up the prince's face, and the fair-haired guy again flushed deeply.

He lay down on the bed, turning his back to the prince, closed his eyes and thought: "Is it true that I don't want him to pester me?" his heart began to beat faster when Egor imagined a grinning Klaus hanging over him, felt a stir in the groin area and a rapid pulse, then he realized that he definitely wanted the prince to use a couple of bottles, standing alone at the foot of the bed.