Author’s note: This week, I’m sharing a scene from a novella, originally titled Prince Hairy, which I wrote a while back but abandoned after the second draft. In the story, a bearish everyman named Brandon falls for Prince Thomas, a junior member of an unnamed kingdom’s royal family. The spicy gay romance plot also incorporates elements of dystopia and horror, as courtiers use hypnosis and chastity to transform Brandon into the perfect royal consort.
The door to the chamber stood open, a silent invitation that filled Brandon with a sense of foreboding. The room beyond was clinical and utilitarian, a stark contrast to the opulence of the palace above. The walls were painted a cold, sterile white, and the air was filled with the hum of machinery and the scent of antiseptic. In the center of the room sat a large, padded chair, surrounded by an array of medical equipment and devices that glinted ominously under the harsh light.
As he stepped into the room, Brandon felt a chill run down his spine. The oppressive atmosphere reminded him of the control and conformity that defined this world. The head psychologist, a tall, imposing man with a sharp, discerning gaze, greeted him with a polite smile, his expression one of composed professionalism.
“Mr. Hollins, please take a seat,” the psychologist said, his voice calm and measured. “I am Dr. Bennett, and I am here to assist you in aligning your thoughts and behaviors with the expectations of the Royal Family. It is Her Majesty’s sincere wish that your relationship with her grandson Prince Thomas be a long and happy one. Our sessions are essential to ensure that you meet the standards of conduct and appearance required of a royal consort. Quite simply, Mr. Hollins, you cannot be allowed to fail.”
Brandon nodded, a sense of resignation settling over him as he sat down in the chair. The padded seat felt cold and unyielding against his back. The pressure to conform, to fit into a world that was so different from his own, was a constant weight on his shoulders, a burden that seemed almost too heavy to bear.
Bennett adjusted the equipment, his hands moving with practiced precision as he attached sensors to Brandon’s temples and wrists. The idea of losing his independence and being reshaped to fit the expectations of the Royal Family filled him with a deep sense of dread and unease, but forcing Thomas to choose between his boyfriend and his birthright was unthinkable.
“It is important that you remain calm and open to the suggestions that will be given to you,” Bennett said. “This is for your benefit, and it will help you fulfill your role with dignity and honor.”
Dignity and honor. Those words, the cornerstones of the principle of Royal Perfection everyone was talking about, seemed to echo off the empty, white walls. Brandon nodded, the resignation and frustration building within him as Bennett finished making adjustments. The thought of losing his independence and authenticity, of being reshaped and controlled to fit into the rigid, predetermined role of consort, was deeply troubling. Yet despite the dread and unease that filled him, he felt a deep sense of commitment to Thomas, a bond that had grown stronger with each passing day.
Bennett turned to a small, metallic device on the table, its surface an array of dials and switches. He adjusted a few with a deft hand, and the air filled with static electricity as the device powered up. The harsh overhead light that bathed the room dimmed, the softer glow casting eerie shadows against the walls and obscuring the clinical surroundings. Brandon noticed the light grew brighter and dimmer in time with his breathing. Each exhale sent the room into near total darkness.
“Close your eyes and take a deep breath,” Bennett instructed, his voice calm and authoritative. “Focus on the sound of my voice and allow yourself to relax. You are safe, and you are here to become the best version of yourself for the benefit of the Royal Family.”
Brandon closed his eyes, his heart heavy with the weight of the expectations and the pressure to conform. The sound of Bennett’s voice filled his mind, a paradoxically soothing yet unsettling presence that echoed through the depths of his consciousness. The rhythmic hum of the machinery and the soft, pulsating light created a mesmerizing atmosphere that beckoned Brandon to relax.
“Picture a calm, serene place,” Bennett continued, his voice smooth and measured. “A place where you feel safe and at peace. Allow yourself to sink into that feeling, to let go of any resistance or fear. You are here to align your thoughts and behaviors with the values and standards of the Royal Family. This is for your benefit, and it will help you fulfill your role with dignity and honor.”
Dignity and honor. As Bennett’s words washed over him, Brandon felt a strange, numbing sensation spread through his body. The weight of his thoughts and the turmoil within him seemed to melt away, replaced by calmness and detachment. Bennett’s voice and the buzzing static in the air filled Brandon’s mind. The faint sound of another voice droned on almost imperceptibly below the psychologist’s words.
“You are becoming more refined, more polished,” Bennett said, his voice now more commanding and direct. “You value the standards and expectations of the Royal Family. You understand the importance of presenting yourself with dignity and honor. Your thoughts and behaviors are aligning with these values, and you are becoming the best version of yourself.”
Brandon’s mind felt heavy and sluggish, his own thoughts a distant echo in the back of his consciousness. The idea of conforming, of aligning his thoughts and behaviors with the expectations of the Royal Family, seemed less troubling, less of a conflict. As his relationship with Thomas became public, the scrutiny increased, and the Royal Family became more vocal in their opinions of him, Brandon had resisted the pressure to conform with his trademark irreverence and charm. The constant drumbeat of courtiers exhorting him to fit into a world that was so different from his own was a constant weight on his shoulders. Yet as he listened to Bennett and watched the clinic’s lights brighten and dim, the conflict felt more distant, more detached from his concern.
“You are letting go of any resistance or fear,” Bennett continued, his voice now probing into the depths of Brandon’s mind. “You value the dignity and honor of the Royal Family, and you are committed to upholding their standards. Your thoughts and behaviors are aligning with these values, and you are becoming the best version of yourself.”
As the psychologist’s words filled his mind, Brandon took comfort in resignation for the first time. His entire life he had clung to his independence, to his autonomy, to the freedom of having to answer to no one. But pursuing independence had created nothing but loneliness. Thomas—no, His Royal Highness The Prince Thomas—had offered him a life of companionship and togetherness, and all for the reasonable price of his freedom.
The session continued for what felt like hours, the psychologist’s voice a constant, almost needed presence in the disordered depths of Brandon’s mind. Each time Bennett repeated the words dignity and honor, Brandon felt a wave of pleasure flood his body, quickly followed by pleasant, composed detachment. When it finally ended, Brandon opened his eyes and sat motionless in the chair. The weight of the Royal Family’s expectations was still there, yet they felt less of a burden and more of an opportunity. Brandon had always been an ambitious, motivated individual, and these qualities were now reoriented toward his new goal—becoming a perfect royal consort and doing his duty for King and Country.
Bennett removed the sensors and helped Brandon to his feet, his satisfied expression hiding beneath a facade of professionalism. “You have done very well, Mr. Hollins,” he said. “But this was only our first session. The process is ongoing and will continue until Her Majesty is satisfied that you can fulfill your role in the family with dignity and honor.”
Brandon nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Bennett. Nothing would please me more than to exceed Her Majesty’s expectations. Thank you for your willingness to work with me and help me overcome my shortcomings.”
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Grrr what a promising start can’t wait to see where this goes! Dignity and honor in obedience woof
Thanks for the comment, man. This novella had a lot of interesting bits and pieces. The response makes Me think I might need to haul it out of the recycle bin and work on it some more.