Chapter 1: Chapter 1
The limo door slammed hard enough to rattle the tinted window. Will flung himself onto the plush leather seat, his signature popstar grin plastered a little too wide, a little too bright. "Can you fucking believe the turnout tonight? Place was electric! Like, actual sparks. I swear someone’s hair caught fire during the third chorus." He reached for the mini-bar, popping the cork on a bottle of Cristal with practiced ease. Bubbles frothed over his fingers.
Luke didn’t look up from his tablet. The glow illuminated the sharp angles of his face, the crown prince’s posture rigid even in the moving vehicle. "Your mic pack was malfunctioning during the bridge. Again." His voice was a low, controlled rumble, the kind that vibrated in your bones. "And the choreography in ‘Neon Ghost’ was sloppy. You missed the mark on the stage lift by half a beat."
Will took a long, defiant swig straight from the bottle, champagne dripping down his chin. "Aw, buzzkill. Crowd didn’t notice. They were too busy screaming my name." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing his stage glitter. "Besides, the interview afterward? Pure gold. That slimeball reporter from ‘Celeb Scrape’ practically creamed his pants."
Leo, sprawled across the opposite seat tuning a battered Fender bass, glanced up. His dark eyes, usually smoldering with rockstar intensity, held a flicker of warning. "Will. What interview?"
"The one after the encore, obviously," Will scoffed, taking another pull. "Livestreamed. Millions watching. Real talk, you know? Cut through the PR bullshit."
A muscle twitched in Luke’s jaw. He finally lowered the tablet. The air in the limo thickened, growing heavy with a tension champagne bubbles couldn't pierce. "Real talk," Luke repeated, the words measured, dangerous. "Enlighten me. What ‘real talk’ did you share with millions of viewers about our private life?"
Will blinked, the alcohol haze momentarily parting to reveal a sliver of unease. He covered it with a theatrical shrug. "Oh, you know. Just… stuff. How boring state dinners are. How Leo snores like a chainsaw after tequila." He flashed a grin at Leo, who didn't return it. "And maybe… just maybe… I mentioned how fucking hot it is when His Royal Highness Prince Luke decides to play strict headmaster and puts his bratty popstar husband over his knee for being a little shit." Will giggled, the sound high-pitched and slightly hysterical. "Or when Leo acts all sweet and subby for you but turns into a fucking dom nightmare pinning me down the second you’re not looking. People eat that kinky royal ménage à trois shit up! Trends are already exploding. #PrinceSpanksPopstar is trending."
Silence. Profound, heavy silence. The only sound was the low thrum of the limo’s engine and the frantic pulse beating in Will’s own ears. Leo slowly set his bass down, his expression unreadable. Luke didn’t move. Didn’t blink. His blue eyes, usually the icy blue of a winter fjord, were dark, fathomless.
"Fucking hell, Will," Leo breathed, the first to break the quiet. It wasn't angry. It was disbelief tinged with a grim sort of resignation. He knew what was coming.
Luke finally moved. Slowly. Deliberately. He pressed a button on the console. "Charles. Take us directly to the Oakridge residence. Cancel all appearances for Will tomorrow." His voice hadn't risen. It was colder, quieter. More terrifying. He turned his gaze fully on Will. The playful, defiant spark in Will’s eyes finally guttered out, replaced by dawning, sober panic.
"Luke…" Will started, his voice losing its bravado. "It was just a joke, okay? A bit of fun! You know how the press twists things…"
Luke ignored him. "You seem to crave structure, William. Discipline." The use of Will's full name hit like a slap. "And an audience, apparently. Very well." He leaned forward slightly, the limo's interior lights catching the hard planes of his face. "Consider this an official royal directive. Tomorrow, 9 AM sharp. The study at Oakridge. Dress code: School uniform. Your standard issue."
Will’s mouth fell open. "You can't be serious. A uniform? That’s… that’s humiliating!"
"Detention," Luke continued, as if Will hadn't spoken. "For gross misconduct and violation of royal privacy protocols. And since you enjoy performing…" He paused, his eyes flicking to Leo, whose expression had shifted, a spark of something intense – anticipation? – igniting in his dark gaze. "Leo will serve as Teacher’s Assistant. To ensure the lesson… sticks."
Will felt a flush crawl up his neck, hot and mortifying. "Leo? But…" He looked wildly at Leo, seeking an ally, finding none. Leo just watched him, a slow, predatory curve forming on his lips. It wasn't his usual playful smirk. This was different. Hungrier. Will’s protest died in his throat, replaced by a confusing cocktail of dread and a traitorous, unwelcome flutter low in his belly. He knew that look. It didn't bode well.
The rest of the ride passed in suffocating silence. Will stared out the window at the blurring city lights, the champagne bottle forgotten, lukewarm between his knees. The bravado was gone, replaced by a gnawing sense of having stepped into something much bigger, much darker, than he'd intended. He’d wanted a reaction. He’d gotten one. Now the reality of Luke’s icy fury and Leo’s unsettling promise of participation settled over him like a shroud.
Oakridge Manor. 8:58 AM.
The heavy oak door to the study felt like the entrance to a tomb. Will stood before it, shifting his weight in the ridiculous outfit. The crisp white shirt itched against his skin. The navy blue blazer felt two sizes too small, pulling across his shoulders. The gray shorts were absurdly short, exposing too much thigh. The knee-high socks and polished shoes completed the picture of juvenile humiliation. He clutched the strap of the empty satchel slung over his shoulder – Luke’s idea of authenticity. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a too-tight cage.
He took a shaky breath and pushed the door open.
Luke stood behind a massive antique desk, bathed in the cool morning light filtering through tall windows. He wasn’t in royal regalia, but his attire was no less imposing: perfectly tailored black trousers, a charcoal grey sweater that clung to his powerful frame, his posture radiating absolute authority. He looked up as Will entered, his expression impassive, unreadable. Not angry. Not amused. Expectant. Judging.
"Two minutes early," Luke observed, his voice echoing slightly in the high-ceilinged room. "A promising start. Though tardiness is the least of your infractions today. Approach."
Will forced his feet to move, the sound of his footsteps and the slight swish of the short fabric the only noises. He stopped in front of the desk, unable to meet Luke’s gaze, staring instead at the intricate wood grain. He flinched as Luke slowly circled the desk, the sound of his polished shoes deliberate on the parquet floor. He stopped directly in front of Will, so close Will could smell the clean, crisp scent of his cologne, feel the heat radiating from his body.
Luke’s fingers, strong and cool, touched Will’s chin, forcing his head up. Will had no choice but to look into those arctic eyes. "You embarrassed the Crown," Luke stated, his voice dangerously soft. "You exposed our private intimacies to the world as cheap entertainment. You disrespected this marriage. All three of us. Do you understand the gravity of that, William?"
Will swallowed hard, his throat tight. "Y-yes, Your Highness." The formal title felt alien, but necessary, slipping out in his apprehension.
Luke held his gaze for a long, terrifying moment. Then his hand dropped. "Strip."
Will blinked. "Wh-what?"
"The uniform," Luke clarified, his tone brooking no argument. He walked back behind the desk, settling into the large leather chair. "You will stand before the disciplinary committee appropriately. Remove it. All of it. Now."
Mortification warred with a terrifying thrill. Will’s fingers trembled as he fumbled with the blazer buttons. He shrugged it off, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. His fingers moved to the knot of his tie, pulling it loose with clumsy tugs. He dropped it on the blazer. The shirt buttons were next. Each one popped open felt like an eternity, revealing the smooth skin of his chest, his stomach. He let the shirt slide down his arms, joining the growing pile. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the shorts, hesitating only for a second before pushing them and his underwear down in one clumsy motion, stepping out of them and kicking off the shoes and socks. He stood naked in the middle of the grand study, the cool air raising goosebumps on his skin, his face burning. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor, shame a hot coal in his chest.
The creak of the leather chair. Luke leaned back, steepling his fingers, his gaze a physical weight sweeping over Will’s exposed body. Assessing. Possessive. "Hands behind your back."
Will obeyed instantly, clasping his wrists together at the small of his back. The position thrust his chest forward, made him feel utterly vulnerable. He heard the study door open again, a quiet click. He didn’t need to look to know who it was. He could feel Leo’s presence, a dark, magnetic energy entering the room.
"Ah, the Teacher’s Assistant arrives," Luke said, his voice regaining a fraction of its usual cool composure, laced now with something darker. "Right on time, Leo. Our delinquent pupil is prepared for correction."
Leo moved silently into Will’s peripheral vision. He wasn't in uniform. He wore his usual rockstar attire – black ripped jeans, a band t-shirt stretched tight across his chest, scuffed boots. But the aura was different. The easygoing slouch was gone. He stood straight, his shoulders squared, his dark eyes fixed on Will with unnerving intensity. He held a long, thin rattan cane loosely in one hand, tapping it lightly against his thigh. The sound was like a death knell to Will’s nerves.
Luke gestured towards Will. "The offense: public indecency of the highest order. Revelation of private marital conduct. Willful disrespect. He requires a lesson in discretion… and obedience." He paused, his gaze shifting to Leo. "What is your assessment, TA? Does the pupil require corporal correction?"
Leo finally spoke, his voice low, gravelly, stripped of its usual lazy charm. It was a voice of command. "He requires significant correction, Your Highness. A fundamental lapse in judgment and respect." He stepped closer to Will, circling him slowly. Will shivered as Leo’s gaze raked over him, lingering on his bare ass, his thighs. Leo stopped directly behind him. Will could feel the heat of Leo’s body, smell the leather and faint cigarette smoke scent that always clung to him. Leo leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of Will’s ear. His voice dropped to a husky whisper that sent an involuntary jolt straight to Will’s groin. "Looks like someone’s already trembling. Scared, little popstar?"
"Fuck you," Will breathed, the defiance weak, brittle.
Leo chuckled, a dark, rich sound. "Tsk. Language." His free hand, large and calloused from guitar strings, suddenly gripped Will’s hip, hard. Will gasped. Leo’s other hand, the one holding the cane, drifted downwards. The tip of the rattan traced a feather-light, terrifying line down the center of Will’s naked back, over the curve of his ass, stopping just between his thighs. "Such a pretty canvas," Leo murmured, his breath hot on Will’s neck. "Begging to be marked. To be taught its place." He pressed the cane tip firmly against Will’s inner thigh, forcing his legs apart slightly. "Assume the position. Bend over the desk. Hands flat. And stick that perfect little ass out. High."
Will’s legs felt like water. The cold, polished wood of Luke’s antique desk pressed against his lower belly and chest as he bent forward. He stretched his arms out, palms flat on the cool surface, fingers splayed. He arched his back, pushing his bare ass up and out towards Leo, a silent offering, a target. The position was excruciatingly exposed, vulnerable. He could see Luke watching from his chair, a king observing a punishment, his expression still unreadable but his eyes blazing with a possessive fire.
He heard the soft swish of the cane cutting through the air behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself, every muscle taut.
THWACK!
The cane landed with a sharp, stinging crack across the center of his ass. Pain, bright and hot, exploded. Will cried out, a sharp gasp torn from his throat. He jerked forward, his knuckles whitening on the desk.
"Hold position," Leo commanded, his voice devoid of sympathy. The cane tapped lightly against the throbbing stripe already rising on Will’s skin. "First of many, brat. You’re going to count them. Loud and clear. And you’re going to thank the TA after each one. Understand?"
"Y-yes," Will choked out, tears stinging his eyes.
"Louder," Luke ordered from behind the desk, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in Will’s bones.
"Yes, TA!" Will forced out, his voice trembling.
"Good boy," Leo purred, the praise laced with cruel promise. The cane tapped again, lower this time, settling just above the crease where ass met thigh. "Now, thank me properly."
Will swallowed, tasting salt and fear. "Th-thank you, TA."
The cane whistled again.
THWACK!
The pain was deeper this time, biting. Will whimpered, his hips bucking involuntarily. "T-two! Thank you, TA!" The stripe burned like fire next to the first.
Leo shifted. The cane tapped higher, just below the small of Will’s back. "Keep that ass presented. Don’t make me tie you down. Though," he added, a dark edge to his voice, "we might get there." His hand rested heavily on Will’s lower back, pressing him firmly down onto the desk. Will felt the hard ridge of Leo’s erection press against his hip through the denim. The combination of pain, dominance, and that undeniable evidence of Leo’s arousal sent a confusing surge of heat through Will’s own body, warring with the sting.
THWACK!
"Three! Thank you, TA!" Tears were definitely falling now, tracking hot paths down his cheeks. The heat in his groin intensified, throbbing in time with the pain radiating across his backside. He was half-hard, trapped against the desk, the cool wood a shocking contrast to his fevered skin.
Luke watched, his gaze fixed on the tableau before him: the red stripes blooming across pale skin, the trembling submission, Leo’s controlled ferocity. His own need was a tight coil low in his belly. This was just the beginning. Detention had only just started. The cane rose again.
The cane whistled through the air.
THWACK!
Pain, sharper than the last, bit deep into Will’s upper thigh. He yelped, a high, involuntary sound, bucking hard against the unyielding desk. The sting radiated outwards, a burning counterpoint to the throbbing heat building between his own legs. "F-Four!" he gasped, tears blurring his vision. "Thank you… thank you, TA!"
Leo’s calloused hand clamped down on the small of Will’s back, pinning him harder against the cool wood. The rattan tip traced the fresh, angry welt. "Louder, slut," Leo growled, his voice thick with exertion and arousal. He leaned close, his breath hot and damp against Will’s ear. "Does His Highness’s common little fucktoy need the lesson written on his skin? Or does that gutter mouth finally know how to show proper respect?" He ground his denim-clad erection deliberately against Will’s bare hip.
Will whimpered, humiliation warring with a sick, traitorous thrill. "Yes, TA! Thank you, TA!" he managed, louder this time, his voice cracking.
Behind the desk, Luke finally spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the panting and the lingering echo of the cane strike like shards of ice. "Look at him, Leo. Bent over like the cheap whore he is." He rose slowly from his chair, the movement predatory, deliberate. He circled the desk, stopping beside Leo, his gaze like a physical weight raking over Will’s trembling, striped backside. "This is what happens when gutter trash forgets its place. When it dares to soil the sanctity of the Crown with its filthy mouth."
Luke’s polished shoe nudged Will’s bare foot, forcing his legs wider apart. The vulnerable exposure made Will gasp. Luke’s hand, impossibly cool, smoothed over the burning welts on Will’s ass. The touch wasn't gentle; it was possessive, appraising. "See how he trembles?" Luke murmured, his eyes fixed on Leo, sharing the view. "Like a common street urchin caught stealing. Does it excite you, Teacher’s Assistant? Seeing royalty’s property so thoroughly humbled? Knowing you have our little popstar peasant exactly where he belongs?"
Leo’s grip on Will’s back tightened. "It does, Your Highness," he rasped, his knuckles white on the cane handle. "Watching the brat learn his station. Seeing his common blood rise to the surface… along with other things." His free hand snaked down, fingers roughly tracing the line between Will’s ass cheeks, making him jolt violently.
Luke chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent a fresh wave of dread through Will. "Such a low-born creature," Luke mused, his voice dripping with disdain. He leaned down, close to Will’s ear on the other side from Leo. The scent of expensive cologne and absolute power filled Will’s senses. "Did you think your silly songs and screaming fans elevated you? That marrying me made you anything more than the common cocksleeve you are?" His hand slid down Will’s spine, possessive and cruel. "You’re a novelty, William. A dirty little secret the Crown indulges. A hole to fuck. And holes," he whispered, his lips brushing Will’s ear, "do not speak."
He straightened, his gaze sweeping over Will’s prone form with cold contempt. "Proceed, TA. Show this gutter rat the consequences of forgetting his blood. Make him feel the distance between his vulgar existence and the Throne."
THWACK!
The cane landed high on Will’s ass, overlapping previous welts. He screamed, arching wildly, his cock rock-hard and leaking onto the polished wood beneath him. "F-Five! Thank you, TA!" The words were a sob.
Leo didn’t pause. He was breathing hard now, his own arousal palpable. He brought the cane down again, lower, catching the sensitive crease. THWACK! "Six! Thank you, TA!" Will’s body was a map of fire, his ass a constellation of burning stripes. The pain was overwhelming, exquisite, merging with the desperate need coiling in his gut. He was adrift on it.
"Look at him beg," Luke observed coldly, standing back like a spectator at a gladiatorial match. "Moaning like the cheap dockside whore his mother probably was." He walked slowly around to the front of the desk. Will kept his forehead pressed to the wood, unable to meet those icy eyes. Luke grasped Will’s chin, forcing his head up. Tears and slick sweat streaked Will’s face. "See the Royal crest?" Luke flicked his gaze towards the large, ornate emblem hanging above the fireplace. "That purity? That lineage stretching back centuries? You pollute it with your very presence, commoner. Every time I lower myself to fuck your filthy hole, it’s an act of charity." He released Will’s chin with a shove. "Now, thank your noble TA for taking the time to correct your vulgar nature. He serves the Crown, not gutter trash like you."
Leo’s hand slid between Will’s legs from behind, calloused fingers roughly encircling his aching cock. Will cried out, hips jerking helplessly into the touch. "Th-Thank you, TA!" he gasped, the words mangled. "Thank you for correcting me!"
"Not me, you stupid little slag," Leo growled, giving Will’s cock a punishing squeeze. "The Crown. Thank your Prince."
Will’s vision swam. "Thank you… Your Highness!" he choked out towards Luke. "Thank you for… for letting TA correct me!"
Luke’s lip curled in a sneer of utter disdain. He nodded almost imperceptibly at Leo. "Make sure he remembers, Leo. Make sure this common whore never forgets the weight of the Crown… or the feel of the cane."
Leo withdrew his hand from Will’s cock, leaving him shuddering and empty. Will heard the soft clatter of the cane being set aside. Then Leo’s hands were on his hips again, hauling him back, positioning him roughly. The blunt, thick head of Leo’s cock, freed from his jeans, pressed hard against Will’s burning, slick entrance. Will braced, breath catching.
"Take it, commoner," Leo grunted, voice thick. "Take your noble punishment. And thank your Prince."
With a brutal, unyielding thrust, Leo sheathed himself to the hilt in one violent motion. Will screamed, a raw sound torn from his throat as pain and overwhelming fullness obliterated everything else. Leo didn't pause. He set a punishing rhythm, driving into Will with deep, powerful strokes that rocked his body against the desk, each impact jolting his striped flesh. The friction was brutal, overwhelming, pushing Will towards the edge even as the pain screamed through his nerves.
Above him, Luke watched, his expression carved from ice, his own arousal evident in the tight set of his jaw and the predatory gleam in his eyes. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the desk on either side of Will’s head, surrounding him, dominating him utterly. His voice, when he spoke, was a low, dangerous purr right in Will’s ear, cutting through Leo’s harsh grunts and the obscene, wet slap of flesh.
"Feel it, William?" Luke hissed. "Feel that noble cock splitting your common cunt open? That's your place. Filled. Used. Reminded." He punctuated his words with a sharp smack to Will’s already ravaged ass, making him sob and clench around Leo, who swore and thrust harder. "You exist for this," Luke continued, his voice dripping venom. "To take what the Crown deigns to give you. To be fucked by your betters until you remember your blood is dirt beneath our boots." He grabbed a handful of Will’s hair, yanking his head back, forcing eye contact. "And if you ever breathe a word of our private affairs again, little gutter rat, I won't just cane you. I'll have you stripped naked and flogged publicly in the palace square, so the whole kingdom can see what happens to common filth who forgets its place. Do you understand?"
Leo hammered into him, relentless. Will’s body was a live wire, pain and pleasure short-circuiting his senses. He was so close, teetering on the precipice, held there by the agony in his ass and the brutal fullness inside him. He stared into Luke’s merciless blue eyes, drowning in the absolute power and disdain radiating from the Crown Prince. The threat wasn't just words; it was a promise etched in ice.
"Y-Yes, Your Highness!" Will sobbed, the words ripped from him. "I understand! Please!"
Luke released his hair, letting his head thud back onto the desk. He straightened, his gaze sweeping over his husband being ruthlessly fucked by their other husband. A cruel satisfaction tightened his features. "See that you do," he murmured, the words final, absolute. He turned away, walking back towards his chair, leaving Will pinned and impaled, Leo’s cock pistoning into him, the only sounds the raw slap of skin, Leo’s harsh breathing, and Will’s broken whimpers. "And remember, Will," Luke added, not looking back, his voice cold as the marble floor, "this is the only language commoners like you truly understand."