by Dagny Aldan
“Is this the soldier you were? So easily distressed and driven to tears?”
Isabel shook her head hard,
“No. No Mistress, I was a good solider.”
“But that is not what you were born to be. You were born to be a queen.”
Swallowing against a dry mouth, Isabel forced her eyes open and looked at Lena, who was regarding her coldly.
“I want to be a good queen. I really do. But how can I be when I’m so… so me?”
Hans’ chest ached as he stared at her, wishing he could do something to make her stop hating herself. James took the tablet away and switched it off.
“We’re still going through the footage but it seems that every one of the PROs uses the same sort of language. Ruling through submission, the idea that a monarch is subject to the demands of the people. Our theory is that this is an organisation that is focused on controlling the way the next generation rules.”
“By making them submissive? How is that a good way to rule?” asked Hans in disbelief.
“It actually has some merit. We don’t want these heirs going to war on their own whims, they have to do what is best for their people. But that’s a moral issue, not a sexual one, and the way the organisation has gone about it makes me doubt that that is the only thing they are after,” said Wolff.
“So what now?” asked Hans.
“Now, we need to find out where the heirs are.”
“How will you do that?”
“We’re trying to trace the location of Saab and Lévesque, but so far we keep hitting dead ends,” said James. “Saab is practically a ghost.”
“What about other heirs? Ones that you do know the location of? Wasn’t one of the heirs recently crowned after his parents died in an accident?”
“King Adelardo?”
“Yes! He probably went through the whole thing too,” said Hans. James and Wolff looked at each other,
“How the hell are we going to get close enough to King Adelardo to ask him? We can’t just turn up on his doorstep and ask him if he ever participated in a secret sex ring.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of a way,” said Hans darkly. “Although, if he’s been brainwashed like the rest he might not be willing to talk.”
“Brainwashing might be a bit much,” said James.
“Well whatever you call it, he might be able to tell us where the others are.”
A knock on the window warned them that their time was nearly up. Panic clutched at Hans’ stomach and he leaned forward,
“Find Isabel, whatever you need to do. These guys may have the best intentions in the world, but they’re clearly willing to break the law or just straight up fuck with it to achieve their objectives. Isabel’s not safe with them, I know it in my gut.”
James and Wolff shared a look, then James nodded,
“We’ll do what we can. But in order to do this, we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves. So Hans, that means we can’t try to get you out of here until we find the heirs and extract them.”
Hans’ stomach dropped and he looked down at the table, trying to imagine sitting on his ass for who knows how long, unable to help. He hated the thought, but he knew it was wise to leave him where he was.
“Ok, ok, I can wait. If it means you’ll find Isabel, I’ll accept that I’m stuck here. Just please, promise me when you find her, when she’s safe, you’ll tell her the truth about me.”
Surprisingly, it was Wolff who said,
“Of course.”
They all shook hands and then Hans went back to his cell, feeling tired and overwrought. He lay on his bed, trying to banish the image of Isabel on her knees, looking up at Lena with desperation. Isabel had needed someone to tell her she was good enough, but Lena had used it as an opportunity to get Isabel further under her thumb.
If Hans ever met Lena again, he would punch her in the face until her jaw was in pieces. Then she would never be able to manipulate anyone ever again.
Chapter Twenty-Two –Ahmed
Ahmed sipped his whiskey as he regarded his conquest. Isabel’s eyes were glassy and distant, she was floating in subspace as she hung face down in the ropes he had spent the better part of an hour wrapping her up in. He had raised her high enough that he could sit beneath her, enjoying every bit of it.
Her blonde ponytail bounced as she shifted instinctively, the pure white fabric that was acting as a gag stark against her tanned skin. The muscles in her arms and legs moved under her skin, her face flushing red. Ahmed picked up his camera and took several pictures, focusing on various parts of her body individually. He was especially pleased with the way he had bound her breasts, they were straining against the bonds, nipples tight.
Setting aside the camera, Ahmed stood up, now level with Isabel’s head, he clasped it gently in his hands, turning her lips to his and brushing them together, the gag ignored. Soft and yielding, he took his time with the kiss, enjoying the delicacy of the moment. When he broke the kiss, he rested the side of his head against hers,
“Oh my conquest,” he sighed, “My beautiful, helpless little conquest. You have no idea how happy I am to have you at last.” He meant it too. Isabel would never know how much he had wanted her, for how long. The things he had done, the plans he had set in motion just to achieve this moment.
He thought of all the heirs he had needed to go through to get here, and felt a stab of annoyance. If Isabel had only waited until her graduation, things would have been so different. Ahmed buried his nose in Isabel’s hair and inhaled deeply, feeling his pulse quicken. He did not think he would ever be bored of her.
Ahmed let Isabel go and walked across to the buttons that controlled the suspension pulleys, pressing the down button to lower Isabel to a more accessible height. He walked back to her and ran his hand over her bare ass, still marked from the caning he had given her two days ago. Isabel twitched but didn’t make a sound.
The ropes wrapped around her thighs and kept them apart, allowing Ahmed unfettered access to Isabel’s pussy. The plug was back in her ass, a bright pink handle sticking out, stark against the deep red of her labia. Ahmed trailed his thumb over the plump flesh, noting that her hair was growing back. He smirked, looking forward to tidying her up, but for now he would enjoy using his slave.
He undid his trousers and pushed them down with his underwear. He took himself in hand and stroked lazily, enjoying the way the rope dug into Isabel’s flesh. He would need to get her down soon, but there was still time.
With his free hand he caught her hip and held her still, rubbing the head against her slit, wetting it and moaning softly as the anticipation curled his toes. He pressed forward and listened to Isabel’s breathing, which caught as she was breached, and she squirmed a little like a sleeping cat. Ahmed pressed deeper and deeper until he was filling her up, now holding her hips in his two hands. He sighed softly, feeling her body tighten and relax around him. He took advantage of his conquest’s suspension to push her forward, then back, using her like a toy, always listening to the sound of her breathing and the noises she made.
Isabel had had another three panic attacks in the past two weeks, and Ahmed had used each one to wind his threads around her. The vulnerability they brought out in her touched a tenderness in his chest, reminding him why he had been so angry when she had disappeared. Isabel was too delicate for military work.
“You belong to me Isabel, you know that now, don’t you?” he sighed. “You’ll stay with me from now on.”
“Mmm…” Isabel murmured, clearly not understanding him, but responding to him, to his cock inside her and his hands and ropes around her. It didn’t matter, she was relaxed and in a completely submissive mind set, bowed to his will. Ahmed continued to move in slow, deep movements, playing with the freedom he had with her. Back and forth she swung, ponytail swaying, soft whimpers and gasps filling the space. Ahmed’s mind was quiet and content, all that mattered was him and Isabel.
When he finally came it wasn’t an explosion, but
a deep, penetrating warmth that suffused his body and cleared his thoughts completely. It was a moment of complete presence. Ahmed lingered in it as long as he could, but eventually he opened his eyes and pulled away from Isabel. He took his time getting her down, not wanting to disturb her too much. Once she was free, he picked her up, struggling a little as her muscle made her heavier than she looked, and carried her to the bed. Isabel stared unseeingly through half lidded eyes, her skin crisscrossed with red marks from the rope and Ahmed’s earlier ministrations. He started to climb onto the bed to lie beside her, when there was a knock on his door.
It was an effort not to growl in annoyance. Ahmed grabbed his trousers and pulled them back on, striding over to the door and opening it just enough to stick his head through.
“Yes!”
Luke blinked at him in surprise,
“Good afternoon my friend,” he said in that sardonic way of his that told Ahmed Luke was not in the mood for his temper. “I’d like a word with you.”
“Now? I’m a bit busy,” snapped Ahmed, wanting to shut the door and get back to Isabel as quickly as possible.
“Perhaps, but you’ve been busy for days, and I want an update of Isabel’s status.”
Ahmed raised his eyebrows slowly, letting Luke consider his word choice, but his friend didn’t blink.
“She’s fine, I’ve got her well handled.”
“I don’t doubt it, but still, we’ve never allowed a slave to be so isolated before. I’d like to check on her.”
Ahmed scoffed, grinning at Luke,
“You make it sound like you don’t trust me.”
Luke shook his head,
“Not at all, I do trust you, but still, you would want to check on any slave I kept isolated, so why should I not do the same? Are we not comrades in this enterprise?”
Ahmed didn’t want Luke to see Isabel, he didn’t want anyone to look on her again. She was his! But he knew Luke would get more concerned if he continued to refuse. So, begrudgingly, he stepped aside and let Luke inside. Luke entered and sniffed, wrinkling his nose,
“You could do with a window open in here, it’s very… pungent in here.”
“I have a naked woman in my room, and I’m not particularly interested in chilling her,” said Ahmed shortly, leading Luke back to his bed. Luke stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at Isabel, taking in the marks on her skin, the dazed look in her eyes.
“She’s in subspace,” he stated.
“Yes, she is,” said Ahmed.
“How long has she been like this?”
“A while, but she’s fine, she’s responded to me.”
“Hmm.” Luke stepped around the side of the bed and crouched down, taking Isabel’s wrist and checking her pulse. “What about the panic attacks?”
“I’ve managed them. It’s why she’s still isolated, considering the others are triggering her, it seemed wise to keep them apart.”
“Hm, I think it would be good for her to talk to them too. In a controlled environment, starting with the ones she’s closer to. Jingyi would be good, maybe Adrian or Sander, or Benjamin.”
“Benjamin was the one who triggered the panic attack that started this,” said Ahmed.
“Yes, but he’s been worried about her, he wants to make sure she’s alright.” Luke straightened up and looked at Ahmed, his eyes shrewd, “The other heirs are growing unhappy with her isolation, that could be a problem, they need to see her and spend time with her. She needs to be sleeping in the dormitories, with the rest of them, otherwise we are undermining everything the Dukedom stands for.”
Ahmed narrowed his eyes in irritation.
“Fine, we can let her spend time with the others, but only for small periods, I don’t want to undo the work she’s done.”
“Neither do I.”
“Start with Jingyi,” said Ahmed, not wanting the men near Isabel yet. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll take them for a walk outside.”
Luke looked mollified at once, smiling widely.
“Good, I’ll arrange it.”
Ahmed let him out and then went back to Isabel, gripping her wrist where Luke had touched her. He brought it to his mouth and ran his tongue over the skin, knowing he could not tie her up again after such a long, intense session. Isabel blinked up at him and she smiled,
“Sir…” she whispered, almost saying it like a prayer. Ahmed smiled back, reaching up and tucking some of her hair behind her ear.
“Isabel,” he replied, his hand wandering to the underside of her arm, tracing the faint outline of the contraceptive implant that was tucked under her skin.
“Did I do well sir? Did I please you?”
Ahmed leaned forward, kissing her softly before replying,
“You pleased me, you were very good,” he sat up again, leaning his weight on the hand next to her waist. “Now, do you know what I’m going to say?”
Isabel shook her head, looking curious. The corner of Ahmed’s lips twitched and he said,
“Isabel, come.”
Isabel blinked, gasped and then moaned, her body arching off the bed as the orgasm rolled through her. Ahmed bit the inside of his cheek, delighted to watch his slave obey him in this primal way. Ahmed had tried to teach this technique to other slaves, but he had never been able to get them to climax on command, without touching them. Then he found Isabel and he knew that she was going to give him that control.
As Isabel relaxed back onto the bed she looked up at him, with wide, vulnerable eyes, as if he was the only real thing in her world. He wanted that look to remain on her face forever.
“How do you feel?” he asked. Isabel blinked again, slowly and thoughtfully before saying,
“I feel free, sir, if it pleases you.”
Ahmed smiled and he nodded,
“Yes, it pleases me. But do you know what would make me happier?”
Isabel shook her head, lifting her head a little in anticipation. Ahmed wrapped his hand around her throat, watching how she barely reacted, except to tilt her head back, giving him access. She had learned so quickly, it just confirmed for him that she was meant for this.
“There is one final thing I have been waiting to do with a slave. It will require all your trust and submission, and it will be the hardest thing you will ever do. But I think you are ready.”
“Yes sir,” said Isabel, looking curious but unconcerned. She was clearly not going to start asking for more information. She had learned to simply accept what he was doing, when he was doing it. Ahmed could not stop himself from lying on the bed, gathering her in his arms and holding her tight.
“My conquest, mine,” he murmured, nuzzling her hair. Isabel hummed softly, pressing close, her hand resting over his heart.
Chapter Twenty-Three –Jingyi
Being quiet made it easy to overhear things, as Jingyi well knew. It had allowed her to listen to confidences and fears in school, knowing things long before the grapevine of gossip could find them. Duchess Kanta, Jingyi’s PRO, had taught her to be more vocal, to find a core of strength inside her that would allow her to be confident in herself, even when she was submitting to harsh treatment. Well, harsh for her.
Still, being quiet had its advantages, so even in the Dukedom, Jingyi had a policy of being quiet when she was among her peers, learning what made them tick, what the interpersonal relationships were and how to best appeal to each person. Jingyi knew that Duke Luke was in love with Prince Adrian, and she knew that his brother Sander was resentful that he had no one who loved him like that. Jingyi knew that Rawiya was already trying to form political alliances with the other heirs, especially ones that had traditional rivalries with Isabel’s homeland. Strictly speaking she was not meant to be doing that, because the whole point was to form a united system of all the heirs, but Jingyi did not dare try to tell her that.
Yes, Jingyi knew a lot of secrets, but one thing she knew that was not a secret was that Isabel’s isolation was turning the other heirs against her. What made her so special th
at the Grand Duke was keeping her to himself? Jingyi thought that it was an unfair attitude, after Benjamin had told her what had happened. It sounded like Isabel needed help. Although some of the hostility was probably because apparently Isabel was terrified of the rest of them, and thought they had been cruel to her.
That did sting, Jingyi thought she had always been pleasant to Isabel when they were children. So she was surprised when Duke Luke found her and told her she would be spending some time with Isabel, to acclimatise her to interacting with her peers. Jingyi listened to Luke’s words, and was relieved when Luke asked if she had any questions.
“Why does she hate us Duke Luke?”
Luke heaved a great sigh,
“I wish I knew. People interpret conversations in different ways, and some cannot tolerate jokes as easily as others. Then again, it may be that there’s some underlying issue that has nothing to do with you, but Isabel’s built up inside her head that you all dislike her.”
“Oh.” Jingyi looked at the floor, trying to hide her pout. Luke ran his hand over her hair,
“Just talk to her Jingyi, and don’t worry too much about being a slave. You’re both still human, and I want you to talk like you’re humans.”
Jingyi nodded, slightly perplexed at his words, but recognising that Luke was giving her permission to break her role slightly for the sake of open communication.
So Jingyi laced up her walking boots and knelt by the back door of the mansion, glad to see it looked rather warm out, so she would not be cold walking naked through the trees. Soon Luke arrived with Grand Duke Ahmed, with Isabel crawling behind them. Jingyi’s eyes widened as she took in Isabel’s body. She was covered in bruises and red welts, marks from rope and goodness knew what else.
Jingyi had seen slaves who had been through physically stressful sessions, but Isabel looked like she had been put through a pulveriser. The only place she wasn’t bruised was her face, but her eyes looked hollowed and she moved gingerly and skittishly as she pulled on her socks and walking boots.
“Isabel, you are allowed to walk once we’re outside,” said Ahmed. “Just stay close.”
