A walk of shame

"Good, now collar him." Lyra spat. Sniffling at her feet, Marcus let out a strangled gasp of shock. Did she say collar?

"You sure that's necessary?" Jack glanced at her, his brow furrowing. "The boy's got no fight in him."

"I say it's necessary, so it's necessary." The scarred woman sneered. "It's not just about controlling him, you know that. The people have to see him crowned but dragged behind me, naked and shamed. That's the message I want to send."

"Fine, I'll do it." The big man sighed. He reached down to his belt and slipped off a large, steel ring he had hanging there, pulling it apart with his hands. Marcus sobbed as he felt the cold metal snap shut round the skin of his throat. Jack turned something on the front and it clicked shut. Just the sound made him want to vomit. Now he knew this awful thing was locked round his neck. It wasn't too tight, he could breathe at least, but even trying to swallow made him that much more aware of the pressure on his throat.

And they weren't even done with him yet. Next, Jack found a length of chain on his belt and fastened it round a loop at the front of the collar. He handed the end over to Lyra, not even looking at the sniffling prince it was now tied to. The scarred woman nodded with satisfaction, coiling the length round her wrist.

"I'm giving you one chance, boy." She snapped at Marcus, her good eye filled with vicious contempt. "Get on your feet and follow me, or else I'm dragging you all the way to the gates by your throat." The young prince had no doubt it was true. A flood of panic gave him the strength to stumble to his feet. He reached down with one shivering hand and covered his dick, but that still left so much bare skin exposed. He sniffled wetly, longing for just a scrap of cloth to cover himself. They could give him that much, couldn't they?

There was a sharp tug on his neck as Lyra turned and strode for the door. Marcus darted after her, just the threat of the collar strangling him enough. He didn't want to go out there, not like this, not naked and leashed like an animal, but what choice did he have?

As he was yanked through into the empty corridor, the red-haired woman who'd been standing there the whole time turned to follow. Her eyes were on him, drifting up and down his naked body in a way that made his skin crawl. She still hadn't said anything, and that somehow made her even scarier than the other two.

"I think Juliet likes you." Lyra sneered from in front of him. "She'd tell you herself, probably, but one of your father's bailiffs had her tongue cut out when she spoke against him." Marcus froze, only another sharp yank of the collar making him stumble hopelessly after his tormentor. Was that even true? His father's man had done that? He glanced back at the redhead, and she just gave him a thin smile and then nodded. "I'll give you to her for a night or two later, once I've got you working off your debt to the people." Lyra continued, making him shudder in terror. "Jack's interested too, aren't you big boy?"

"Fuck, Lyra." The brawny man was bringing up the rear, and managed to look faintly ashamed. "I told you. I don't do that stuff. Not if they're unwilling."

"He'll be willing, if he knows what's good for him." The scarred woman snapped. Marcus felt fresh, painful tears oozing down his cheeks, shivers of terror making it hard to even stumble after her. That's what she was going to do with him? Hand him out to her followers? How could anyone be so very awful?

The young prince was led naked through the quiet corridors of the castle, his one consolation that so far no-one else had seen him like this. That faint hope didn't last very long. As Lyra led him down the stairs towards the gates, he heard a low, rumbling noise prickling at his ears. For a moment he had no idea what it was, then as they drew closer he realized to his utter horror that it was the sound of a huge crowd talking and shouting to each other. When he realized he was going to be dragged out in front of them, naked like this, Marcus felt his world collapse around him. His head spun, all the blood draining from his cheeks to leave them pale and clammy. He almost turned and ran, only the awful pressure of the mute redhead behind him keeping him from dashing back that way. The collar would stop him going too far and these people would do something terrible to him then, he was sure of that.

Instead, he let himself be meekly dragged naked through the gates of his family home, and out into the cold evening air.