Be defiant toward the woman

Duncan’s first instinct is to be polite and compliant, but something within him snaps. In the span of a very few days, he has turned 18, met a magical cat creature that transformed him into multiple things, went up against horny, homicidal dwarves, and taken captive by a family of flesh-eating mind controllers. Granted, he did get a new and improved penis out of all of this, and last night’s sex was impressive, but it ultimately ended with him in this predicament, where he seemed fated to either be sold as a ****, eaten by this family, or condemned to spend a final few weeks literally fucking to ****. Somehow, all of that boiled over now, and he lost all sense of decorum or tact.

“Do I have a name?” he responded, harshly. “Yes, I have a name! I am His Royal Highness Duncan, son of His Majesty King Malcolm. I am Duke of Lancish and Prince of the Realm, and I have about had it with all of this petty cow towing!” He slams his fist on the table in anger and for emphasis, breathing heavily and feeling like a weight has lifted from his shoulders.

The others stand in silence, looking at the prince after his outburst. The silence is broken by Carl, who laughs and exclaims, “Where did you say you found this one, Cassandra? At St. Loquatious’ Home for Half-Wits and Pathetic Outcasts? He thinks he’s royalty!” He slaps his knee as he laughs, but their visitor holds up a hand to silence him.

“Prince Duncan, you say?” asks Madam Banntrach, stepping closer and studying his face carefully. “He looks nothing like the king, but I dare say I see a strong resemblance to Queen Caroline.”

“Are you sure?” asks Cassandra, approaching Duncan and examining him carefully.

“It has been many years since I last laid eyes on the Queen,” says Madam Banntrach, “but he has the same hair and same facial features I seem to remember of her.”

Gladys joins them, looking at Duncan. “Well, there are those stories about the Queen and her offspring, but could we really have one of them here as our guest?”

Duncan is defiant. “I am no guest of yours, Gratiri hag! And do not dare speak of my mother carelessly. What stories are these that you suggest.”

“Listen to your little pet, Dear!” says Gladys to her daughter. “He’s got quite the spirit in him! You may have to refresh your hold on him sooner than you thought.”

At these words Duncan grows angrier, but his reason takes hold. He realizes he may have already played a deadly hand by revealing too much about himself; he certainly doesn’t want to do anything that will further cement Cassandra’s hold over his will. He takes a deep breath to calm himself and attempts to relax his body into a less combative posture.

“Indeed I may have to do just that,” says Cassandra. “And had I known I had enticed a prince into my bed, I might have savored the experience longer and gone back for seconds while I was feeling better. As it is, I truly am feeling unwell.”

Gladys turns her attention fully to her daughter and grows concerned. “Well, for pity’s sake! You are as pale as a ghost!” She places her hand on Cassandra’s forehead and exclaims, “And you are burning up! Carl, help her to her bed while I make some broth for her.”

Madam Banntrach regards Cassandra gravely and asks, “Did these symptoms start soon after you took this human’s seed?”

Cassandra nods. “I think so. I woke up this morning feeling light-headed, and it has gotten worse as the day progressed.”

Madam Banntrach nods. “Have you considered that he is not altogether human?”

Duncan looks at Banntrach sharply. Not altogether human? What on earth does that mean?

“Cassandra knows enough not to try to entrap a magical being, if that’s what you are getting at,” says Gladys. “She knows the law and she certainly has enough experience with human males to tell the difference.”

“Perhaps not,” says Banntrach. She looks thoughtfully at Duncan. “Sometimes the magic is not quite so evident — particularly if he isn’t even aware of it himself.”

Madam Banntrach steps toward Duncan and extends her hand to his head. Duncan stiffens, but does not step away. He feels the woman’s gaze bore into his eyes as her hand probes and touches his head before moving down to his neck and chest. She rests her hand over his heart and says, “I sense something — but I cannot be sure....”

Duncan holds his breath, wondering what to expect, when the woman abruptly removes her hand from his chest and places it between his legs. It is not the erotic, sensuous touch of a lover seeking to awaken sexual desire, but the impersonal, clinical touch of a physician evaluating a patient. Nevertheless, Duncan feels his cock stir at the touch and begin to grow.

“Knock it off!” Duncan says to himself. “These people — these things — are monsters! This is hardly the time to get a boner!” He tries his best to think about the least erotic things imaginable: dead puppies, his brother’s dirty socks, Carl’s midnight foray against the roasting chicken.... Despite his best efforts, Duncan was soon at full length, and his cock throbbed for release, even as his mind fought to retain control.

“All is not as it seems with you, is it?” Banntrach says to Duncan. “This tool you wield is not one you came by naturally, is it?” She removes her hand from his crotch and turns toward Cassandra. “I sense powerful magic associated with his penis. How could you not have sensed it yourself? Why, the size alone should have told you it was unnatural. A man cub such as this should not wield such an impressive piece, and you yourself spoke of how sexually satisfying the experience was; did that not give you a hint that something was amiss? How could something like that human bring pleasure to anything but your stomach?”

Despite everything, Duncan was offfended. “Now wait just a minute! I’ll have you know that I have quite the reputation among women! I’ve brought more damsels to climax than you can count, and that was long before the Felechon enchanted my manhood!”

“There it is!” exclaimed Madam Banntrach. “A Felechon’s work if I ever saw it! Of course you are ill, Cassandra. Human he may be, but his genitals have been touched by the cat creatures, and you might just as well have attempted to subdue a Felechon itself!”

“Oh, I’ve always dreamt of that!” says Gladys, clapping her gnarled hands together. “There was a Felechon who lived in the woods behind my grandmother’s house when I was young. He had a cock that was so big and dextrous that he would sit in his tree and still be able to reach through Granny’s window and steal bottles of milk out of the ice box!” Abruptly, the delight in her eyes is replaced by alarm. She turns to Cassandra. “Oh my! Cassandra, if that is true, you must release your hold on him immediately! Felechon are completely incompatible with our kind! Granny found that out the hard way, may she rest in peace!”

“So we get to eat him after all?” says Carl, excitedly. “I don’t care what you say, but I swear that boy we’ve been eating has gone bad. I’ve had the runs like you wouldn’t believe!”

“Yes, you must release him,” says Madam Banntrach, “but I wouldn’t be so quick to eat him. There is still much to be learned from him.”

“Shall we tie him up first?” Cassandra says weakly. “He’s young and strong and will run for it as soon as I let go.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” says Banntrach, thoughtfully. “If he truly is Prince Duncan, his word is his bond, and I think he will actually be interested in knowing what we know about his mother. What say you, Prince — if that’s who you are. Do we need to bind you?”