The Prince's Brides (boyxboy)

3

When we finally made it to the capital, or, more accurately, to the wide expanses of cleared parie land surrounding it, we were left to stew in our little wagon for four bloody hours before another line was formed. This one to align us rations, gear, and a place in a tent. All of which clearly hinted towards 'draft'.

Two more weeks of wagon after wagon full of young, virile men dropped off into our little field, van wagons began to arrive. At first it was carnival like things, entertainers, food stalls, and the like for those with money to waste away their coins on. Strangely enough, there were no brothel wagons, or wandering prostitutes. Which, of course, lead to some...issues, which thankfully all resulted in swift justice.

Strangely enough, there were three cases where men had snuck into town to spend a night with a willing someone - paid or otherwise. Each of them had been publicly flogged and left to find there way home only half-healed. Two others who'd hooked up in-camp had met a similar fate. Finally catching the drift to keep our virtues in tact, the men were getting more and more violent as frustration built.

I spent my time with a scholar named Themquid, from a town I'd never heard of. It amused him to try and 'literate' me. Any distraction that would keep me away from the fight rings was welcome at this point. - I couldn't risk getting hurt. Not with five little ones waiting for me to return and pickup looking after them.

"No," he broke down laughing at me, again. He bent in half, wiping tears from is eyes. "Not el um en o, L M N O. They're four separate letters."

I rolled my eyes at him, but decided against bitting the hand that taught me. Or something like that.

I was distracted from our little alphabet song recital by a change to the usual racket clamoring about us.

"What do you think it is this time?"

"Maybe the dumb fucks decided to incite a riot this time."

Themquid winced, cautiously following me out of his tent and away from our dirt letter board towards our newest distraction.

Seeing yet more wagons setting up around the perimeter of camp, I soon lost interest. I waited anyway, for a bit. But after a while I gave up on the idea of the crowd thinning any time soon and went back to my scholarly distraction.

We got in line early for the nights dinner rations, which still put us a few hundred people back from the front of the line. I realized why the line wasn't diminishing when I realized we weren't being feed before going threw four separate other inspections.

I shuffled forward nervously, knowing better than to get out of line, but by god so wishing to.

"No home to go back to, join the army! Food, board, pay, and voluntary recruits stay the furthest from front lines in actual battle!"

Wagon after wagon. All recruitment. Army. Supply. Boarder patrol. Faith covens. Messenger Relay. Even a brothel tennard. Any and all sorts of recruitment stalls waited at the end of that sorting line for any boy or man not sent into the mess tent after evaluation. Which was many.

No one seemed forcibly obliged to join anything. They could make their way home if they so wished. But I knew the reality of most of the men released now. Hungry and penniless, with no way home but their own two feet, and no food or board to be expected along the way back. Most would never make it home, not if they didn't originate from near Capita city to begin with.

I entered the first tent, where I was forcibly stripped naked and held in place for a woman who gently checked my body for aberrations. Cleared, and thoroughly humiliated, I was directed to wash in an artificial stream of falling water of some sort.

Clean, cold, and shivering, I was directed to the last section of the tent, where I was dressed and redressed like one of my sister's play dolls. I ended up resorting to whining at the ninnies - male and female alike - dressing me, until they gave me something much more sensible, if still more on the less than comfortable side of things. They even insisted on styling my hair before sending me out.

It seemed that whole tent was just preparation for our first test. A beautiful temptress, perhaps and elf or witch, I would not know. She smiled at me seemingly pleased. Running her hands over my body, through my hair. I caught the way her eyes changed color as she touched my bare skin and hair.

"He'll very much do." She smiled sharply at me.

I did my best to remain unresponsive, stoic. But my lack of swallowing was probably hint enough for someone like her. She frightened my mouth dry.

She handed off a clipboard to me. There were two separate pairs of handwriting on it.

I desperately tried to decipher the writing as I waited in a short line into the tent for our next tent.

"Can you believe this, impotent, lung condition, no muscle definition?! Who do these people think they are?! Since when does my sexual ability belong on a clipboard?! What is wrong with them?!" Themquid cleared the first tent and waddled up behind me, screeching - at me apparently - in outrage.

"What does mine say," I shoved my clipboard into his gut, cutting off his wind. He rolled his eyes and looked my sheet over, board. That was until something at the end nearly sent him tumbling to the ground in a fit.

"What?!" I demanded a few dozen times, growing nervous as the line before us dwindled slowly.

"What. The. Bloody. Fucking. Hell. Does. It. Say!" I growled at him as he straightened up, chuckles finally subsiding.

"Well, let's see." He smiled, the corners of his mouth nearly reaching his smug little ears. "Healthy. Strong. Heard worker. Fine muscle definition. Underfed during development. Underfed overall. Handsome. Virile. Bisexual..." He paused for dramatic effect. I gritted my teeth and waited, irritated with him, with the healer, and, apparently, with a succubus, who'd written up this little appraisal, and most definitely with the slightly chubby louse reading the rather uncomfortable list to me.

"And last but not least, Ladies and Gentlemen," he called out to an invisible audience, "We have ourselves here...a VIRGIN!"

I froze, unresponsive, utterly mortified. There was no fucking way in all that was just and moral that it was necessary for ANYONE to know that!

"Get a move on," a guard gripped my bicep and tugged, throwing me into the tent behind me, clipboard sailing in after me.

I stood carefully, rubbing my sore hip, bending equally carefully to scoop up my clip board.

I handed it over to a man at a table who held out his hand for it. He reviewed it for a moment before turning his attention to me.

"Well, it looks like you can go," he waved his had at the back of the tent.

I hesitated, unsure.

"Excuse me, Sir."

"Yes," he looked up at me agitated.

"Go...go outside, or go home, Sir?" I looked at him with ever widening eyes, failing miserably to keep my hopes in check.

"Ho-"

"Excuse me, Sir." The officer was cut off by the solder who'd so crudely manhandled me moments before. "Seems there was a mixup with the charts."

He handed over a different clipboard.

"The first one belongs to the next bum in line."

"Very well," the man sighed impatiently.

I shifted uneasily as he reviewed my sheet.

"Sorry, Lad. Looks like you'll be staying with us a bit longer. Best continue on in line." He handed me the clipboard before waving me on.

I bowed and left, doing my best to ward away the damp film clouding my eyes. Looks like my little ones would just have to hold out a little longer for me.