The Dukedom: Royal Intimacies: Book Four

by Dagny Aldan

  After thirty solid blows, Boran stopped,

  “Are you sorry slave Isabel?”

  Isabel did not move, forcing herself to spit out,

  “Yes, Esquire Boran.”

  As soon as she said it she knew she had not been able to hide her anger.

  “Liar,” said Boran. “You will report to me when you have finished your duties. You clearly need more discipline.”

  Isabel bit on her tongue as she straightened up and nodded, focusing on Boran’s shoes than his face. Boran watched her and Jingyi go down the stairs until they turned a corner. When they were out of earshot, Isabel burst out,

  “What the fuck was that?”

  Jingyi shushed her quickly,

  “Be careful, the Grand Duke has eyes everywhere.”

  “Fine, but what the fuck was that about? Why couldn’t I help you carry the bucket?”

  “Because I overfilled it and so it was my responsibility. You can’t take on another slave’s burden, that goes against the self-sufficiency lessons we are being taught.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous!” Isabel growled as they entered the communal slave space. Her ass ached from the paddling but she was mostly angry about the ‘rule’ she had just broken. “What self-sufficiency lessons?”

  “Well, we have to learn to do things in a way that allows us to do it ourselves. I should have filled the bucket less, then I would have been able to carry it. That was my mistake, and I’ll be punished later for it, after the chores are done. Boran just corrected you there and then because yours was an impulse that needs to be curbed.”

  “Would they have known that you had overfilled it if I hadn’t tried to help?”

  “Probably, they keep a close eye on us, more than you’d realise at times.”

  Isabel huffed, feeling cross and embarrassed. Helping people was not a bad thing, why would they try to discourage it?

  Scrubbing the rest of the toilets was somewhat cathartic, she could scrub as hard as she liked and vent her temper. When she heard boots on the floor she looked around and saw Boran pacing around the space, his eyes taking everything in. Isabel caught his gaze, but she looked away before he could see her anger. She was sure he would look for an excuse to punish her more.

  When they were finished, it was lunchtime, and Isabel ate her meal slowly, pondering why their meals were all soft, like baby food. She sat back on her heels, wincing as her tender ass made contact. She could feel Ahmed looking at her, and was sure he would agree with her that assisting her fellow slaves was a good thing. He would tell Boran to stop being so foolish.

  Boran came up to her,

  “Come along slave Isabel, you’re overdue for some discipline.”

  Isabel looked to Ahmed, hoping he would say something, but he simply nodded to Boran. He approved of what Boran was about to do to her. Boran clicked his fingers impatiently,

  “Slave Isabel, move it! Don’t make this worse for yourself.”

  Clenching her teeth together, Isabel followed Boran into the punishment room. Several more people, Dukes or Duchesses with slaves, followed. Isabel was not interested in checking who had warranted punishment, she just wanted to get through this punishment and be done with it.

  Boran led her to the far corner of the room, put cuffs on her wrists and then hooked them above her head so she was strung up. Isabel glared at the floor, chewing on her tongue, when Boran pressed a bit-gag between her teeth and secured it behind her head. Isabel gnawed at the bit for a moment, but even with the soft covering she knew she could break her teeth if she wasn’t careful. The belt was removed and quickly followed by the butt plug. Isabel clenched her asshole as lube started to trickle down her thigh. She realised she had not gone to the toilet for a few hours and hoped that the lack of a plug would not make her stretched muscles lax in their usual duty. The last thing she needed was to shit herself because of her soft diet and lazy body.

  Then something cold and hard was pressed against her asshole and before Isabel could do more than start, it slipped in. It felt like metal and Isabel glanced over her shoulder to see what looked like a hook being guided inside her. It was unforgiving, encased by her flesh which suddenly seemed very flimsy in comparison. Isabel yelped and shuddered as Boran pushed and pulled on the hook, very slightly but it felt extreme to her, rubbing the bulbous head against her insides. It wasn’t a very nice feeling, but it was not exactly unpleasant either. Isabel turned her face away, looking out across the room. A prince, Henry she thought he was called, was tied to a padded table on his back with his legs bound at the ankles and suspended so his body made an ‘L’ shape. He had a ball gag in his mouth which was muffling his cries of misery as his Duke beat his ass and thighs with a cane. He looked so helpless, almost infantile with his legs held up like that. His cock was soft against his belly, he was not enjoying this punishment at all, but Isabel found herself fixated on the way his body tensed and relaxed with each hit. His curly hair was already plastered to his face, and he had tears falling from his eyes.

  It was beautiful in its own way, how he did not fight the pain, but accepted it despite his obvious discomfort. Isabel wondered what he had done to merit the punishment.

  “There,” said Boran, drawing her attention back, “The hook sits nicely in your fat ass.”

  Isabel’s whole body went ridged, and she groaned in discomfort as she clenched hard around the hook. Had Boran just called her fat? Automatically, Isabel looked for a mirror, to see if he was right and she really had gotten fatter, but there was none she could use.

  Boran stepped in front of her and lifted a short cane, pressing it against her jaw and forcing her head up. He eyed her critically, then snorted,

  “There should be a rule about an heir needing to reach a certain level of beauty. If we have to be stuck with you ruling, you might as well be pretty to look at.”

  Isabel could not stop the flinch across her face at his words. Was she really so unattractive? Hans had called her beautiful, but he had been a sick pervert. Surely she was not that bad?

  Boran dragged the tip of the cane down her neck, over the swell of her breasts.

  “These are at least big, but they’re not exactly perky, are they?” he asked. “Did you have a kid when you were hiding like a coward in the military? These look like milk bags that have shrivelled up.”

  Tears stung Isabel’s eyes and she dropped her gaze, trying to examine her breasts. They were too big, but did they really sag that much?

  Boran flicked his wrist and the cane struck the side of her breast, forcing a surprised cry of pain from her. He hit her again on her other breast and Isabel arched her back in pain. This movement made her all the more aware of the hook inside her and she didn’t like how it felt when she arched her back. Her insides felt as flimsy as tissue paper, and she froze, frightened of injuring herself on it. Boran hit her across the belly, sneering when she cried out,

  “How’d you even feel that through the fat you’ve got there? I saw the way you gobbled up your lunch, you probably would have stuffed your face if we didn’t control your intake.”

  Isabel shook her head desperately, making noises of denial. She was not that fat girl any more, she had worked so hard not to be that girl. Boran hit her across the thighs, three blows to each one, and Isabel could feel her fat ripple with the blow. Tears fell down her cheeks, mixing with the drool that was escaping her mouth around the gag, and her nose was starting to run now. She must look a mess, and that only made her feel worse.

  “Some slaves can get by on their looks, their nice pert asses, their well-toned torsos, but you?” Boran wrenched her head back by her hair, “You don’t get to slide on by with your looks, slave. You have to work hard to prove your worth, do you understand me?”

  Isabel nodded as best as she could with his grip on her hair, her whole body shaking. She wished she had never offered to help Jingyi. Boran snorted again, letting go of her hair. Isabel hung by her arms, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath around
her sobs. Boran came back and Isabel was engulfed in darkness, he had put a scratchy bag over her head.

  “I don’t want to look at your ugly face while I punish you anymore,” he snarled.

  Isabel wanted to curl up and disappear. She was sure the other heirs were watching her being punished and agreeing with Boran’s assessment. Even Lena’s careful work with the beauticians could not hide her plainness and her weight.

  Boran pulled her thighs apart and began to strike the insides, beating the flesh until it was burning hot. Isabel tried to stay quiet, to prove she could at least take a beating well, even if she was not an appealing slave for her looks. The bag was hot and damp with her tears and breath. She felt like she could suffocate inside it, her chest was tightening and only the pain was keeping her from blacking out.

  Abruptly the beating stopped and she opened her eyes, seeing the faint light piercing the material. A shadow swam in front of her, Boran was leaning over her.

  “Are you sorry slave?” he asked quietly. Isabel nodded as hard as she could. She would never offer to help a slave again. Boran’s hand cupped her aching breast, fondling it, but Isabel had never felt less aroused. Still, if he wanted to fuck her, he could, she was a slave to be used.

  Besides, if he fucked her, it meant she was forgiven, didn’t it?

  The bag was ripped from her head, and she blinked in the light but Boran was already removing the hook from her ass. Her thighs burned and she struggled to get them under her, before Boran did anything else. Boran’s arm went around her waist as the bulbous head stretched her hole for a moment before popping out, but before she could lean into his hold he let her go. Her legs trembled as she felt him untie her wrists, and she dropped to her knees, crawling over and kissing his shoe.

  “You’re dismissed slave,” said Boran, and he turned away from her. Isabel bit her lip, looking up at him in the hope he would show her some sort of confirmation that she was really forgiven, but he was too busy putting his tools away. She did not know where she ought to go, but she did not dare ask him. She lowered her eyes and crawled out of the punishment room, trying to suppress her sobs. She crawled blindly, her whole body aching, her distress clawing at her insides, until she bumped into something. She looked up and shrank back in terror. She had collided into Ahmed, who was frowning down at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. Ahmed’s eyes roamed over her face, then he crooked his finger at her,

  “Come with me.” He turned on his heel and walked away from her. Isabel followed as fast as she could, wondering if she was about to experience more punishment.

  Chapter Thirteen –Luke

  Luke was reading the world news on his tablet in his private quarters when there was a knock on his door.

  “Come,” he called, glancing up from the tablet as Boran entered. At once he could tell something was wrong. Boran was pale and he looked upset.

  “Boran?”

  “I’m sorry Duke Luke, but I… I feel I have made an error and I don’t know what to do,” said Boran. Frowning, Luke sat up and set his tablet aside, beckoning him to sit across from him.

  “Come and tell me what happened.”

  Boran sat down heavily and folded his hands together.

  “Well, when we knew Isabel was coming, Ahmed had a meeting with us, you know how he usually does when a new slave is coming to the Dukedom?”

  Luke nodded, Ahmed took a very invested interest in the care of the slaves and advised the Esquires on how to cater to the slave’s needs individually.

  “The thing is, he told us to be especially harsh with Isabel, because her military background has made her tougher than average, so we could really push her with the physical aspects, but he said that they would not necessarily be effective as a result.”

  “Hmm,” Luke rested his fingers against his chin, considering these words. It made a certain sort of sense. “Go on Boran.”

  “So, so Ahmed told us we would need to be very tough on her, using extremely harsh punishments for minor infractions. Today she tried to help Jingyi carry her water bucket, and I paddled her ass for it.”

  Luke raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  “That seems excessive for something that probably speaks to the good of her character, even if Ahmed wants to push a consequence heavy philosophy with the slaves.”

  Boran shrugged, spreading his hands,

  “I thought the same, but it was what Ahmed ordered us to do.”

  “So how did you punish her?”

  “I put a hook in her ass, and birched her thighs, but that’s not all… Ahmed told us to speak derogatorily of her. So I called her fat and ugly, and that above all else really seemed to upset her. I know a punishment is not supposed to be pleasurable, but I was alarmed by how upset she became.”

  “Did you talk to her after the punishment?” asked Luke, leaning forward.

  “That’s the thing, Ahmed told us not to perform aftercare on her.”

  “What?” Luke stared at him in disbelief. “You must have misunderstood, Ahmed knows better than anyone the importance of-”

  “I know! He said we were to send her away from us, without aftercare, and that he would deal with it himself.”

  Luke frowned deeper,

  “Ahmed told you to not provide aftercare, and that he would do it instead?”

  “I did what he said, but I felt awful about it Luke. Isabel looked so upset,” said Boran, his voice rising with emotion. “I can deride a slave if they get off on it, but the way she reacted… that was anything but a good reaction. I feel I’ve made an awful error with her, and done actual damage, but I was only doing what Ahmed told me to do.”

  Luke reached out and squeezed Boran’s forearm.

  “All right, calm down Boran. I will speak with Ahmed and see what exactly is going on. In the meantime stay away from Isabel. When I have a better understanding of Ahmed’s plans for Isabel, I will help you make things right with her.”

  Boran’s shoulders dropped in relief,

  “Thank you Luke. I don’t want to seem like I’m doubting Ahmed… but his instructions have made me uncertain. If Isabel needs hard handling, that I will do, but not giving her aftercare…”

  “I understand and the fact that you came to me is a sure sign of your good intentions,” Luke reassured him, giving his arm a final pat. Boran, recognising he was being dismissed, stood up and gave a quick bow before leaving to resume his duties, looking reassured. Luke, however, was troubled. The idea that Ahmed would tell the Esquires not to provide a slave with aftercare was worrying. He knew that Ahmed had been particularly interested in Isabel’s case, but that was because she was such an unusual one.

  Luke picked up his drink and sipped at it, letting the burn of the alcohol clear his mind. He had known Ahmed for a very long time, had helped him set the Dukedom up, though it was very much Ahmed’s creation. Out of all the other people who worked for him, Luke probably knew Ahmed best. He was meticulous, highly organised and very good at convincing people he was in the right. It was how they had all the people they did, how they had the access they did.

  Luke had watched Ahmed with other slaves, and knew his style. He was demanding and pushed them very far, yet he always knew when to stop. Aftercare was of critical importance with the slaves because the things the Dukedom did to them made them very emotionally and mentally vulnerable, and the entire purpose of the Dukedom was to help them build healthy defences. It was also to enable them to foster better relationships with each other outside the Dukedom. They had all seen each other in such open straits that there would be no back stabbing or under cutting. Just straight talking work to ensure the world continued to improve for all of humanity.

  So the idea that Ahmed had ordered the Esquires not to give a slave aftercare, especially one so new and inexperienced, was concerning. However, Luke assured himself, it was probably for a good, logical reason. He would simply go and ask him. He considered going straight away, but it sounded like Ahmed would be with Isabel
and Luke did not want to interrupt them.

  He would ask in the morning.

  Chapter Fourteen –Isabel

  Ahmed’s hands were soothing on Isabel’s thighs, rubbing in a thick salve where Boran had birched her. Isabel pressed her fingers to her lips, turning her face away to hide her tears. She felt stupid for being so upset, had the punishment really been so bad?

  “The first punishment here is always the hardest,” said Ahmed softly, massaging and squeezing her flesh. It hurt, but Isabel did not want to lose the contact either. “The Esquires are only there to keep you in line, you know that don’t you?”

  Isabel nodded, her hair rubbing against the wooden floor she was lying on. Her thighs were across Ahmed’s lap, leaving her ass in the air. It made her neck ache but she was glad to be still.

  “And in future, you’ll behave yourself, won’t you?”

  “Yes sir,” she whispered, her voice sounding far away to her own ears. Ahmed sighed, then said,

  “Alright, up you get, I want you to draw me a bath.”

  Isabel started moving before she had even really registered the order, moving to her hands and knees and crawling to the bathroom. It was a huge space, with a sunken floor bath in the centre. Isabel turned on the taps, trying to gauge the right temperature. She also decided to pour some of the oil that smelled like Ahmed in, so the bath gave off a soft, woody scent. Ahmed strolled in just as the bath was full.

  “Undress me,” he ordered. Isabel removed his shoes and socks first, then straightened up to take off his shirt. His hands caught at her elbows and she glanced at his face, which was unreadable, but his eyes were boring into her.

  “Enjoy it,” he whispered. Isabel felt a shiver run through her that she could not tell was good or bad. She swallowed and slowed down her actions, trying to make them more seductive. As she pulled the shirt from his trousers and brushed her hands over his exposed stomach, Isabel realised she had never done this sort of thing before. She was usually the one being seduced, not the other way around. Yet that was clearly what he wanted her to do, to remove his clothes in a sexy way. The only thing she could think of to do was to actually touch him, sliding her hands down his arms as she pushed his shirt off. His chest hair was dark against his warm skin, and there was a trail of hair from his belly button down to his cock. Isabel undid his trousers, then palmed his nipples, peering at his face through her eyelashes to see if he approved.