“Sexual pleasure objects. Such things that princes shouldn’t be looking at. Molded phalluses and erotic jewelry.” Stamel didn’t want another cock, even a fake one, anywhere near his omega. “I’ll have something for you, though.”
Stamel turned away from Seidrik and marched his way to a sales associate. “Body chains.”
The attendant glanced up, eyes wide. “P-prince Stamel. My liege.”
“Body. Jewelry,” Stamel enunciated, and the attendant scattered to take him into the back room. They had wooden, tripvine, metal, and glass phalluses on full display, illustrated picture books of eroticism and implements that caught his attention. One of which looked like a pen, the point of which had a beadjust after the tip, the rest of it wavy all the way down to a sizeable ring to hold onto it. A sounding wand. He’d heard tales of the things and gestured toward it. The selection was limited, but they did have a rather nice set of silver chains with delicate starstones set every so often between links.
Stamel gestured toward one of the sets. “And where would one go to get the fittings made so the chains stay put?”
Piercings.
The attendant, a rather bashful woman, muttered something about a tattooist by the pleasure district. “Perfect. Give me a referral and wrap the items for me.”
The attendant nodded and knew better than to charge Stamel. A parting gift, he’d call it.
As the attendant made quick work of it, Stamel waved at Seidrik to follow him out and into the waiting carriage. “Take me to the end of Lover’s Lane and wait.”
“Sir?” The driver cleared his throat and turned around.
“I wish to visit the tattooist, not the brothel.” Stamel sighed, and the driver nodded after Stamel showed him a piece of paper with his letter of introduction. Such places did not usually cater to royalty without a referral to be certain they weren’t breaking any laws. Stamel knew no laws against the markings or piercings, as he’d had the doctor do several in his own ears.
He doubted the doctor would do what he wanted done to Seidrik.
As they neared the building indicated, Seidrik so dearly followed him without a single question, entering the unmarked storefront with blacked-out windows.
Nothing in the front of the store indicated it was a tattooist or a piercer, the wares out front mostly aging,used items, a general goods store. Seidrik made eye contact with an elderly omega that stepped out, wiping his hands down with alcohol that stung his nose from the strength. “Aye?” The omega hesitated. “Your Majesty.”
Stamel thrusted the letter of introduction to him and earned a sage nod.
“Come on back.” The omega lifted a partition in the counter and gestured them into a small room in back, the surfaces polished and clean, the scent of alcohol and styptic thick. He opened a case on the wall to reveal a slew of silver rings, all of them plain. “I ain’t a jeweler. You want something fancy after they heal—go talk to them. I just put the hole in.”
Stamel nodded in thanks and pushed Seidrik forward, delighting internally as he stumbled and gasped. “Wh-what?”
“My friend would like his nipples pierced.” Stamel urged Seidrik to sit on what looked a lot like Jori’s examination table back in the castle—with far more patches. It was clean, though.
“Alright.” The omega asked no questions as he plucked two rings off the display and set a tin cup of hard liquor on a small table by the bed. He tossed a needle into the cup, lit a candle from a tinderbox, and made a wild gesture toward Seidrik with a grunt. “Usually, I charge a pent for the rings and the piercing.”
“And what is it for us?” Stamel snorted. A five-gram silver coin was a fair price for two small rings and a piercing.
“Two vati.” The omega grinned, showing off a gold tooth. Twenty grams of gold for the two piercings was robbery.
“One pah.” Stamel stared the man down as Seidrik trembled. Fifteen grams of silver seemed more thanfair. The rings, the extra service, and the silence after were worth it.
“Worth a try. Fine.” The omega tugged at Seidrik’s shirt and grumbled. “Come on, don’t be shy. Be thankful our prince hasn’t decided you needed your cock done.”
A whimper escaped Seidrik’s pale lips as he hurried to remove his shirt as if the suggestion might spur Stamel into asking for that, too.
“I think his cock is fine unadorned…for the time being.” Stamel huffed, and the omega went to work, setting fire to the alcohol-soaked needle.
Seidrik nearly fainted before the omega grabbed a pair of forceps and pinched hold of his nipple in the most perfunctory and competent ways. Seidrik nearly shot off the table, barely a shout from his lips before the wry male had the needle speared through. “F-fuck!”
“Mm-hmm. But you like it.” The omega grinned before gesturing down, and Stamel’s breath hitched.Seidrik was hard.
His face seared red, cheeks crimson with shame. Stamel loved to see him that way, but he didn’t shy away from the other nipple as the clamp went down with a sharpsnick. A soft gasp, a whimper, and grunt of pain later, and on his other nipple had been threaded a ring, adorning his pink nub in all its sensitive glory.
Stamel reached into his pocket, pulled out two pah, and laid them on the counter. “Thank you, sir.”
The omega stared at the extra coin. “You, too?”
