A story of Jaimeth and Isabella, Rayth and Alenya, Prince and Princess, Noble and Slave.
Fate, Duty, Love.
PART ONE
In the year 922 the country of Pangain was the largest and most powerful nation. Its army's commanded attention from the other lands, and its power dominated world affairs. Although it maintained its current borders for decades, the surrounding countries always feared a mighty outward push that would be impossible to stop. Espinan, a small and poor country to the north, was the most hostile rival.
The Queen of Pangain was a hard, strong, graceful, deliberate, yet rapidly aging woman. Angry with her only surviving son for continuous suspected treason, but without the heart to terminate him, the Queen bypassed her son as heir, as well as her oldest male grandchild, who was loyal to his father. Prince Jaimeth, 2
nd
male grandchild, became the heir to the throne at age 9. His mother suspiciously died later that year, and he very young assumed the role of protectorate for his older sister Lillian, younger sister Sonia, and youngest brother Benito.
Currently age 19, Jaimeth, nicknamed Jem, was a powerful, cocky, but extremely intelligent monarch. He relied heavily, however, on his head guard Navin and his best friend Lord Rayth for advice, counsel, and possibly substitutes for a father and brother. He wished to spare his friends and siblings from the loss of family he felt, and lavished love and protection on them as much as he could. Outside his family and close friends, however, Jem's reputation was that of an icy, selfish, yet strategically wise young man who would exceed precedented power when he reached the throne…
Jaimeth strolled into Prince's Hall dripping with sweat. He was mildly addicted to fencing, constantly challenging his guards to mock duels to improve his skills with the sword. None of them ever let Jem win, as it was a running joke that anyone he bested would be beheaded. Clothes clinging to him and smelling to high heaven, the Hall's guards tried not to knowingly smile as they dropped to a knee in respect as he passed. A slave girl scrubbing the hallway stopped her work and put her head to the marble floor. Jaimeth paused momentarily to instruct the girl: "Send a girl for my bath." The girl waited until he passed before she scurried away to find one of his elite beautiful body slaves.
Jem was pulling his clothing off before he fully entered his room. Once the guards opened his door and he stepped inside, he flung the wet strips about him. He was entirely nude, leaning against a bedpost to catch his breathe when a slave girl dressed in white muslin crept into the room. She hesitated nervously at the site of his nude, thin, but slightly muscular frame before she fell on the floor, head down.
"Get my water ready."
Jem watched her half amused as she struggled to lift the heated buckets of water into his tub. He could have lifted them more easily than she, but it wasn't his place. Once the tub was filled, he half limped towards it; it had been a good match. The girl again put her head to the floor as he approached.
He slowly sank his aching body into the steaming water, and she knew better than to keep him waiting. Keeping her eyes dutifully lowered, not looking into his face, but concentrating on his body, she wetted a cloth and lathered the soap. As usual, she began with his tanned neck, and proceeded down his chest as he lay with his eyes closed. As she made her way down his rippled torso, he surprised her by grabbing her wrist. The young Prince was known to have a bit of a sadistic side, and the girl gasped a bit, not knowing what to expect. She lifted her eyes for half a second to his face, and caught the grin before she remembered herself and lowered her eyes.
"M…Master?" She smiled and stammered. Gradually and deliberately, he pulled her wrist down into the tub, forcing her to lean into it. She placed her other soapy wet hand on his chest, trying to catch her balance, but she slipped, and her breasts slapped into his half immersed body. Embarrassed, she tried to collect herself; she was familiar with both him and his body, and being wet and exposed with him was certainly nothing new. Still, she was always uneasy with him, as were all his body slaves, since playful dabbling would switch to an angered beating without much in between.
She pulled her chest from the water, and of course, her white top was now transparent, clinging to her full firm breasts and large dark nipples. As they cooled from being out of the warm water, they turned hard and erect. She continued with her scrubbing.
Jem was enjoying himself, as he always did with his girls. He never found it necessary to allow them much decency. For him, they were just warm moving objects for his pleasure. This particular girl meant very little to him; he didn't even know her name. It didn't matter. What did matter to him were her nipples; he loved to play with them and suck on them. As she began scrubbing his thighs, he reached down with one wet hand and began rolling her nipple in between his thumb and forefinger. He watched with interest as it further hardened, and his slave struggled to maintain her concentration. She was now approaching his manhood, and she knew better than to scrub it with her cloth.
The slave placed the cloth on the side of the tub, and reached for the soap. She worked a lather into her hands and began massaging, or cleaning, her young master. He was already half hard, but her ministrations and her nipples in his fingers brought him fully erect. She was no stranger to his body; he'd had her several times before. Her breathe caught in remembrance and anticipation, and she continued stroking him eyes lowered and dutiful.
The door swung part way open and she heard male sandals approaching them across the marble floor. She pulled her hands from the Prince and put her head to the floor, not knowing who entered.
"What the fuck are you doing?" the Prince hotly asked, directing his comment to the girl. "Get your fucking hands back in here." he said as he reached out of the tub, grabbed a fist full of hair, and roughly pushed her face towards his cock. The girl again tried to catch her balance with her hands, but hands still slippery she splashed a bit into the tub. The new man who entered pulled a chair up beside the tub and smiled.
"That's right girl," he said, so she could hear the smile in his voice, "Don't stop doing anything inappropriate just because I'm here."
"Don't be a dick, Rayth" said the Prince. "I'm trying to get a bath here, and last I checked my world doesn't revolve around you."
"Nice to see you too," said Lord Rayth, flashing one of his killer smiles.
While Prince Jaimeth is by no means unattractive, Lord Rayth made women's hearts sink into their stomachs. His hair was cut closely underneath, the top layers of ash blonde fair, wispy, and longer; he was constantly pushing them out of his face. The longer layers drew unneeded attention to sapphire blue eyes that could pierce a woman's soul. Add his tanned skin, perfect teeth in a flash of white, and thin yet muscular frame, and it was hard to imagine a man more attractive.
At 19, he and Prince Jaimeth have been friends since very early childhood, and strengthened their bond at military academy. They were both somewhat outsiders in their respectively troubled families, and they had an unspoken understanding of each other's lives. For friendship, they always seemed content just to have each other; no one else was needed or allowed to be as close to either of them. They were both considered friendly, but had few friends.
"So, Jem, when you're done messing around in here, there's this terrific spot down by that new café to pick up 'ladies'. I was down there the past couple of days looking at the new shops, and I swear I got 20 marriage offers."
"Did you take any of them?"
"Nah, I'm holding out."
In truth, Rayth didn't care for "proper ladies", who always seemed to be using him to get to Jaimeth. Besides, Rayth had long been in love with his slave Alenya, much to the teasing of Jem and the guards.
Jaimeth laid back and sighed as the slave finished scrubbing his legs and feet. "Yeah, might as well ride down there and look around. I've got a clean schedule for tonight. No dinners or dignitaries tonight for a change. I love it."
Rayth pushed on Jem's head lightly, as if he were attempting to dunk him. "Right, you've got it so rough man. It's heart-breaking. Look at your girl, I think she's going to cry for you."
Jem did look at his girl. "You think he's funny, slave?" He cocked his head back as if he were waiting for an answer.
The girl's breath caught and she looked terrified for half a second. She knew there was no good answer.
"Please Master," she almost whispered, "forgive me if I've offended you."
Jem rolled his eyes and lightly tapped the side of her face with the back of his hand. "Get my towel," he said. He stood up, and the girl, relieved that he seemed disinterested, got the towel and began to dry him. Lord Rayth stood up to leave. "I'll wait for you outside, if you're not going to be long."
"Nah, I won't be long" Jem said, as he eyed up the girl drying him.
Rayth walked out, and the guards shut the door behind him. Jem sprang from the tub and grabbed both of his slave's wrists. He forced her to her knees.
"What are you looking at down there, slave?"
"Please, s-sir, I didn't mean to…sir, please" she began to beg for nothing specific, simply praying that he wasn't going to beat her for some made up offense. But Jem had other means of pounding on his mind. He threw the girl to her back, not letting go of her arms, and forced himself down on top of her. She was nude under her loose dress. He didn't really have to rape her, she had been used by him before and expected it, but he handled all his roughly. Polite enough not to keep his friend waiting, he spread her thighs, placed himself in between, used her roughly and quickly on the floor. When he finished, the girl rose to her knees, waiting for his instructions. He moved over to his closet, leaving her there, and began to dress. "Clean yourself up, clean the place up then go," he said as wrapped a garment around himself and headed out.
*******************
"Navin's not coming?" Jaimeth asked, as he looked around the café. Typically, Jem preferred his head guard with him always; the older, more mature man was a desired counter-point to Jem's self-recognized brashness. Besides, Navin was rumored to be the most skilled swordsmen in Pangain, and was walking reassurance of Jem's protection.
"He's busy, Sir," said another of his guards, "But tonight we've got a running bet on the new guard Peppin to take a girl home." Unlike most snobbish nobility, Jem's guards were his friends.
"Peppin? Common..." chided Jem. "If you're going to place your money on someone, pick a sure bet."
The newest to the guard smiled shyly, unsure of how to take the teasing. "Well Sir," he ventured, "I believe I can entice a girl to my bed, I don't have to command her to crawl there."