The Dukedom: Royal Intimacies: Book Four

by Dagny Aldan

  “Fair enough. And what about your introduction yesterday? How did you find that?”

  Isabel felt goosebumps rise on her arms,

  “It was difficult sir, but if I pleased you then it was worth it.”

  “Hmmm…” Luke straightened up and gently touched under her chin, lifting her head up to look at him. He stared into her eyes, and Isabel stared back unsure about what he was searching for. Everyone here seemed to be trying to figure her out, but all she wanted was to prove herself as worthwhile.

  The door banged open and Luke looked up,

  “Ah! Ahmed,” he said calmly. Isabel looked around, then dropped her gaze, but not before she caught the expression on Ahmed’s face. It was dark, almost angry.

  “Luke,” he sounded as if he was trying to sound casual, but Isabel thought there was something dangerous underneath it. “I was just checking on Isabel.”

  A flutter of excitement cut through Isabel’s nerves at Ahmed’s concern. It felt nice to know he was checking up on her.

  “Really? I would have brought my assessment to you,” said Luke, his fingers toying with Isabel’s hair like she was a loyal dog.

  “Well, she is the last, the one that we must bring up to speed now our project is finally going up to the next stage.” Ahmed’s hand closed around her collar and he tugged her away from Luke. Isabel sat on her heels at his feet, feeling the pressure of the collar against her throat, Ahmed’s warm, slightly rough, knuckles against the back of her neck. “I will be taking over her training from Lena.”

  “You will?” Luke sounded startled and Isabel knew just by that tone that this was not normal.

  “Yes, she’s far behind the others and needs firm handling,” said Ahmed, sounding calmer now. Isabel gulped, her throat convulsing against the metal. What did firm handling mean?

  “Well, I had hoped to put her through some self-control training with Aiden and Sander,” said Luke.

  “You can let me know when you want to do that, and I’ll see if she’s free,” said Ahmed. His fingers seemed to tighten on her collar and Isabel dared sneak a peek at his face. Ahmed looked perfectly calm, but she could feel tension through his arm.

  “All right then,” said Luke, sounding perplexed.

  “Come along Isabel,” said Ahmed, pulling on her collar. Isabel followed promptly, trying not to think about what was about to come.

  They went into a room that Isabel recognised from yesterday, where Justin had tested her.

  “Get on the bench,” ordered Ahmed. He sounded annoyed and Isabel wondered what she had done to anger him. She scurried to the leather covered bench and climbed up, leaning on her forearms. This put her ass high in the air, which she thought Ahmed would want. She could hear him moving about, his movements matched his tone and she bit her lip. She hoped he would tell her what she had done so she could apologise for it.

  Ahmed came back and covered her eyes with a black band. Isabel pressed her lips together, holding as still as she could. She was frightened of his anger, but did not dare say something. Ahmed strapped her wrists and elbows down, then her ankles.

  “I want to hear you Isabel, I want to hear you feel my work, but I don’t want you to say a word. Only noises.”

  Isabel nodded, dropped her brow onto her forearms. Ahmed removed her chastity belt, then pulled her ass cheeks apart, revealing the end of the plug she was wearing again. He twisted it and Isabel whimpered softly as the slick plug rubbed against her insides.

  “That’s it, like that,” Ahmed hummed. He took the plug out and Isabel clenched automatically, feeling empty. She listened carefully as Ahmed moved around her, jumping when he tapped her in random places, like her shoulder blade, her inner elbow, the edge of her hairline. Then she heard the soft sound of leather on leather, and less than a second later she felt a shower of stinging strikes on her back. Ahmed had picked up a flogger. Isabel bit her lower lip as Ahmed flogged her back, first lightly, building up the strengths of the strikes until her back was burning hot and she was whimpering loudly. All she could focus on was the sensations, the rest of her mind was going quiet.

  Ahmed paused and ran his cool hand over her back, making Isabel shiver and twitch.

  “Stay still Isabel.”

  Isabel made a soft noise of apology, and held as still as she could. She heard the sound of metal rubbing against something else, and then an icy strip pressed flat against the back of her neck. The shock made her cry out, but she managed to hold still. Just as well, because she knew it was a blade by the sharp edge resting on her overheated skin.

  “Stay still Isabel,” Ahmed repeated, “If you move I might cut you by accident. We only want deliberate cuts, don’t we?”

  “Mmhm,” Isabel agreed, trying to calm her racing heart. The blade felt as sharp as a scalpel, and he was using it to trace out her spine on her skin. She clenched her fists tight, wondering if Ahmed was trained in blade handling. He must be, surely, he would not just take a knife out and press it to her flesh without knowing how to handle it.

  It was so cold on her skin, cold enough to burn. She knew she was panting loudly, but could not hear it over her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. The knife was tracing lines up and down over her ribs, and she was sure it would break the skin at any moment. Her forearms tightened and pulled against the restraints. Ahmed dragged the knife over her shoulder blade and down her arm, moving right over her bullet wound.

  Isabel shrieked and jerked away in a panic. For a moment that lasted an eternity she forgot where she was and tried to straighten up, to run and take cover. The restraints held her down and her panic doubled. She bucked hard against the restraints, trying to wrench herself free as she heard distant blasts of phase guns and the bangs of bullet guns. She had to get out of here, she needed to get away-

  The blindfold was wrenched away and Isabel blinked in the sudden light, looking around dazedly. Ahmed’s face swam into view, he cupped her jaw and made her look right at him.

  “-look at me!” he ordered. Isabel obeyed and stared straight into his eyes. “Calm down, now,” he ordered and at once her panic started to fade. She was not back in the Caliphate. She was in the Dukedom with Ahmed. She blinked hard to clear her head and blurted,

  “I’m sorry sir!”

  Then she remembered that she was not supposed to speak, and clamped her mouth shut, hiding her face in her arms to try and show her contrition. A small sob escaped her and she started to shake.

  Ahmed undid the restraints and pulled her to her feet. Isabel covered her face, trying to stop her crying. She knew she was failing her task. The thought of the stocks made her cry harder.

  “Isabel, stop it,” Ahmed ordered. Isabel hiccupped, trying to swallow her sobs down and dropped her hands from her face. She started to drop to her knees but Ahmed grabbed her shoulders and kept her standing. “Look at me.”

  Isabel lifted her head slowly, hiccupping still, and focused on his nose. Ahmed squeezed her shoulders gently, his hands moving up her neck, cupping her head.

  “Where did you go Isabel?”

  “I –I thought I was back in –in the Caliphate, sir.”

  “I thought that might be it. It must have been very hard for you, knowing they were going to kill you if they could?”

  Isabel shuddered and wiped her face,

  “It –it was.”

  Ahmed brushed his thumb over her cheek, pressing firmly as he wiped tears away. He pulled her head up until she was looking him in the eyes.

  “Maybe you should never have gone.”

  Isabel frowned at him,

  “Sir?”

  “Maybe you should have known the military was no place for you. You’re so submissive, so delicate. Why would the military life suit you?”

  “I –I wanted to try and, and make myself stronger.”

  “And have you?” asked Ahmed softly. His dark eyes were peering into her, making her feel exposed. “Do you feel stronger? Because you seem very frail to me.”

  “I…” Isa
bel bit at her lip, opening and closing her mouth.

  “When I heard that you had gone… I was so worried.” Ahmed sighed, drinking in her face.

  “Why?”

  “Because I considered you the most important of your peers.”

  “You did?” Isabel’s heart started to race again, her stomach flipping.

  “Of course, you are heir to the throne dominating the most territory, and I had a suspicion that you were not up to the task.”

  Isabel’s heart sank. Ahmed sighed again, kissing her forehead and pressing his nose to her hair, his arms encasing her.

  “If you had just waited until your graduation, you could have come here and I would have helped you become what you needed to be. You didn’t need to run away to the military.”

  Tears stung Isabel’s eyes again,

  “I just wanted to do the best thing for my country,” she whimpered, “I just wanted to be worthy enough to be their queen.”

  “I know you did,” Ahmed told her, petting her hair, “But do you feel worthy now?”

  “… No.”

  “No, you don’t because you didn’t belong there.”

  “I don’t feel like I belong anywhere,” Isabel admitted against his shoulder.

  “And that’s what you want, isn’t it Isabel? You want to belong somewhere, to someone, who makes you feel like you have a purpose and meaning.”

  “… yes.” The word was barely a whisper, but she felt emotionally flayed as she said it. Ahmed’s hand slid up and down her back, comforting and grounding.

  “Well that’s what I will give you, if you will trust me. I have dedicated my life to ensuring you and the others are ready for the future, and I will not stop until you are exactly what you need to be. Do you believe me?”

  Isabel worried her lip between her teeth. She wanted to believe him, but it seemed so strange to dedicate your life to such a thing.

  “Why have you done this?”

  Ahmed pushed her so she was looking at his face again,

  “Because I know what could happen if you are not good enough. I want you to be as prepared as possible so that no one need ever fear war again.”

  Isabel nodded,

  “I want to avoid war as much as I can, I want to be good at my duty. I don’t want to just leave it to my council. I want to be an active ruler.”

  “I know you do.” Ahmed assured her, and he kissed her, soft and gentle. Isabel kissed him back, wanting to press as close as she could to him. This man wanted to make her better, make her worthy. He thought she was worthwhile enough to be made better.

  The kiss became more heated and eager, and Ahmed buried his fingers in her hair, the other hand cupping her bare ass. Isabel wrapped her arms around him, moaning softly. He smelled of something heady and spicy, so different from Hans. She liked that he was so different, it made it easier to forget everything that had come before.

  With a sharp tug on her hair, Ahmed broke the kiss and buried his nose against her neck, inhaling her scent and letting out a groan.

  “The things I will do to you Isabel, and you’ll let me because you want this, you want all of this.”

  “Yes Grand Duke, I want all of it.”

  Chapter Twelve -Isabel

  Luke had taken Isabel’s eagerness for what it was and assigned her the most menial tasks. On her third day she was told to scrub every toilet in the building, and there were a lot of them. Every Duke and Duchess had a private bathroom, and there were the communal bathrooms for the slaves. It gave Isabel a chance to actually look around, as the slaves were allowed to walk upright during their duties because it would be wholly impractical to do otherwise. Still, they were kept locked in the chastity devices and slaves that were too mouthy were silenced with bit gags.

  Isabel was startled by the number of slaves that seemed to need the gags. Out of 53 slaves, she counted twelve. She could not help but smirk when she saw Rawiya walking around with one. Isabel might not be as used to this way of life as Rawiya, but at least she knew to keep her mouth shut.

  Cleaning toilets was not exactly fun, but it was straight forward and she had experience of it. It was a favourite task for Drill Sergeants. Luckily she was allowed to wear gloves, and open the windows so the cleaning agents did not make her dizzy. Jingyi, who was washing the bathroom floors, followed her around and when they were alone they talked.

  “The lessons can get quite heated when they start talking about things like human rights versus security. Benjamin and Sander got so angry with each other that they were not able to keep it in the room.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Isabel, shaking her hand out as it cramped.

  “I mean they started arguing outside the classroom, and they got in so much trouble!”

  “What happened to them?”

  “They had their feet beaten and were forced to hold off orgasm for three days, even when they were being stimulated.”

  Isabel polished the seat of the toilet then asked quietly,

  “Was it done in front of you?”

  “Yes, of course. Most punishments are done in front of everyone.”

  “Mine wasn’t.”

  “Well you were with the Naughty Slave tag, but if you mean a more painful punishment, well, you’ve only just gotten here. Besides, you don’t want to be punished, do you?”

  “I…” Isabel considered the question, then looked at Jingyi. “I don’t like being punished, because that means I’ve done something wrong. But being hit with a paddle or something…”

  “But that’s different,” said Jingyi, like it was obvious. “That’s pleasure from pain, but a punishment is just that, a punishment. I mean, alright, some slaves misbehave because they want the rush of attention, and some really do enjoy the punishment, but isn’t it better when it’s done for your master’s pleasure?”

  “Oh yes, I just…” Isabel shook her head, “Ignore me Jingyi, I’m not sure what I’m trying to say.”

  “It’s fine, it can be a big adjustment,” said Jingyi with a smile, “I was so stressed when I got here, it took me ages to get used to this life. I mean, we were all so spoiled back in school, and so competitive. Everyone wanted to be the best, do you remember? As if being the best at maths would make you the best king or queen. But now, here, you realise that all that fighting was just petty. Submission to the people is the way we must rule.”

  Isabel straightened up and gathered her cleaning equipment.

  “I was never the best at anything. The pressure was too much for me.”

  “Is that why you left?” asked Jingyi, dragging her mop from one side to the other, her small breasts bouncing. Isabel sighed,

  “Maybe a little.”

  “But wasn’t the military more difficult?”

  “Sort of, but at the same time I liked the fact that I could be given an order, be expected to follow it, and that was all I had to do.”

  “That doesn’t sound very different to here, if you’d come when I was brought in, you’d probably be the best slave we had.”

  “How long have you been here Jingyi?”

  “Me? I arrived just over a year after I graduated.”

  “But don’t your parents wonder where you are?”

  “Oh, we all leave the Dukedom for a few weeks each year, and if we need to attend some sort of event in our homelands. We aren’t completely cut off, but the Dukes and Duchesses are the ones who know when we need to leave and then we come back.”

  “Is it hard to go back?” asked Isabel, thinking of her last interaction with her parents.

  “Sort of. You have to get used to wearing real clothes, and not calling everyone Duke, Duchess or Esquire. I find the hardest part the times when I need to look someone in the eye.”

  Isabel cocked her head to the side as Jingyi finished her work and picked up the mop and bucket.

  “That’s something I never considered, what do people think you’re doing?”

  “The Dukes and Duchesses make up something that will keep yo
u covered. Usually they explain it as an extended education for our future roles, which is not a lie.”

  “Do countries really approve of their heirs being absent so much?”

  Jingyi frowned, looking slightly puzzled,

  “I… haven’t heard anyone complaining, so I don’t imagine so. I mean, the Duke or Duchess you came in with, who prepared you for this life, is keeping an eye on everything. Sometimes a slave disappears overnight, which usually means something has happened in their homeland and they need to show their face. They always come back, Rawiya’s one of the ones who disappears a lot, but I suppose that makes sense considering her country is in a state of warfare.”

  “Hm,” Isabel wondered just how the Dukes and Duchesses kept the absence from becoming an issue, but she was sure Ahmed knew what he was doing. He had dedicated his life to this after all. “Are there any more bathrooms on this floor?”

  “No, just the communal slave ones,” said Jingyi, struggling to carry her full bucket down the stairs. Isabel shifted her Caddy Tray to one hand and reached for the bucket.

  “Here, let me-”

  “Slave Isabel!”

  Isabel jumped and looked around. An Esquire, Boran, was striding up to them, his hand removing his paddle from his belt.

  “What do you think you are doing?”

  “I was just helping Jingyi carry her bucket down the stairs.”

  “That is not your duty today, if Jingyi overfilled it, that is her fault and she will deal with it. You are on toilet scrubbing duty.”

  “I know that, and I am doing it but-”

  “Bend over and grab your ankles,” ordered Boran. Isabel set down her caddy tray and turned around, fuming at the ridiculously petty reaction. She bent over and grabbed her ankles, spreading her legs to make her more stable. As soon as she was still, Boran brought the paddle down on her ass. There was no warning nor warm up, he just landed hard blow after hard blow, the dull thunk of the wood on her ass sounding oddly out of sync with the deep pain that was spreading. Isabel grit her teeth and kept as quiet as she could. She would not cry out, she would not give him the satisfaction. What did it matter that she had tried to carry the bucket? She was stronger than Jingyi, she could carry both.