The Prince's Pet Page 5

  I looked up at him and smiled, grateful for his company; for his kindness. "I would like that. If I stay in the palace long enough."

  The eunuch folded his hands in his lap and gazed down at me. "I have known Issander well from the time he was born," he said. "He will not cast you out. You were a gift from his Father."

  I furrowed my brow. "But why? I would think his father would give him a gift he actually wanted."

  Ellys barked a laugh. "He did. It is only that he does not know it yet."

  "I don't understand."

  "It does not matter. You will learn."

  After a leisurely walk back through the gardens, he took me to the Harem. I had to take almost two steps for every one of his long strides, and was out of breath by the time we arrived.

  The harem had a large room for the storage of clothing. I was allowed to select a number of dresses from the shelves. I chose plain, comfortable shifts as well as beautiful silks and brocades, wispy dresses like the one Atshye had chosen for me and some more modest, but still beautiful.

  I bathed in the pool alone, while Ellys stood at the door waiting. There were no women here at the moment, though he said the handmaidens and concubines slept and bathed here. I would be welcome to do so too, at my master’s discretion.

  "Ellys," I asked him, breathless, as I tried to keep up on the way back to the Prince's rooms.

  "Hmm?"

  "Why will none of the slaves talk to me?" I asked.

  He paused for a moment to let me catch up as we reached the top of the spiral staircase. He shot a sideways look at me. "They do not understand you."

  "No-" I sighed. "They won’t even look at me. They don't let me help. They act like they're scared of me."

  He shrugged as though this should be obvious. "They see the way you are dressed. You have a golden collar."

  "What does that mean?"

  "You are above them. A prized slave. An exotic pet. You do not soil your hands with manual labor or toil in the kitchens. You are the Prince's companion. They are being properly respectful. Or perhaps envious. Or both."

  "Oh." I didn't entirely understand, but I accepted his explanation.

  "Give it time," he said. "You may find friends among them."

  We arrived, and stood by the door. "I will have the clothing sent up to your master’s chambers later. In future, you must ring the bell for anything else you need. Rather than rushing off by yourself without permission."

  "I will." I nodded, duly chagrined. "Thank you, Ellys."

  I could have sworn he blushed.

  He opened the door and I walked in before him, stopping short when I saw prince Issander. He was sitting at his breakfast, leaning one arm on the table. He looked at me as he bit into a piece of fruit and I felt my stomach clench. He did not look happy.

  I felt Ellys behind me, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. “I found this one roaming the temple, Highness.” He said, bowing from the waist.

  Issander said something in Cimbrai, dismissing him.

  I felt the slight squeeze of his hand before the eunuch backed out and closed the door behind him. I was left standing, looking down at the floor and trying to be contrite.

  “So,” he finally said. “What exactly did you think you were doing? Trying to find a way out? Or were you reporting to the queen?”

  “No!” I exclaimed. I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry my Lord. I didn’t know what to do and I wanted to bathe and dress. I only found the temple by accident. I do not know my way around the palace.”

  “I did not tell you to leave.”

  “I know, my Prince.” I looked up, meeting his eyes. “But you didn’t tell me what you wanted me to do. You have not provided instructions, nor food or clothing.” I found myself raising my voice, my temper rising and my words coming in a rush even as I cursed myself inwardly. “In fact, you said you don’t want to keep me at all. What does it matter to you what I do, if you are going to toss me out anyway?”

  I knew I’d gone too far before I’d finished speaking. I had probably made his decision for him. Who would want a disobedient slave who would raise her voice to her master? But at the same time, I had a small amount of pride still left to me, and I was frustrated to my core. On some level, it felt good to let him know it.

  He stood up, and my eyes remained locked on his as he raised to his full height in front of me. I could see the controlled anger in the way he stood, his hands balling into fists then flexing, his jaw tensed.

  “Well then.” He said, as he swiftly grabbed hold of my wrist. I gasped and struggled instinctively against his grip but he held me easily. His voice was a low growl. “If I was undecided before, I claim you now. It will be a pleasure to teach you the discipline you so sorely require.”

  He pulled me after him. Shocked, I stumbled along as he took me to the bedroom. My eyes widened in alarm - was he going to violate me here and now?

  “No - please!” I struggled uselessly in his iron grip. He didn’t answer. But he didn’t throw me on the bed - instead yanking me roughly toward him as he sat on one of the soft couches. He unbalanced me, tossing me easily across his lap and pushing me down.

  I balked at the undignified position, kicking and trying to pull away. Issander grunted and captured both of my hands in one of his, holding them still. With my legs up off the ground I had no leverage and no chance of getting away.

  I felt his other hand on my thigh, and cried out again as he raised my skirt, throwing it over my back. I felt the cool air on my skin, and the blush rise to my face as he looked down at me.

  My thighs, hips and ass were completely exposed for him to see. The position recalled the one or two occasions when I had been spanked by my mother as a rebellious child - but this felt completely different. Tears burned my eyes as I writhed and struggled.

  “Be still.” He commanded. “Or it will only hurt more.” He punctuated the words with a sharp slap.

  I cried out in shock but it took a moment for the pain to truly register. It began to burn like fire radiating outward, and my tears finally began to fall.

  “Please, my Lord,” I begged. “I am sorry. You don’t have to punish me.”

  “Yes,” he growled, “I do. Now be silent.” And he brought his hand down and struck me again, across the other cheek and harder this time.

  I clenched my thighs and moved my hips in an effort to quell the stinging. Suddenly I felt his hand on me, and I flinched - but he didn’t hit me this time. Instead he began to rub. I bit my lip as the pain flared on my sensitive skin, but as he circled and massaged my flesh it quickly began to feel better. His massaging was taking the sting away.

  But no sooner had I started to relax than he spanked me again, the sharp whack resonating in the chamber. I wailed, jerking in his grip, and fought hard not to tense up and struggle.

  His legs were hard under me, thick with muscle, and I suddenly I became aware of the evidence of his arousal, pressing into my stomach from below.

  He was enjoying this. It excited him.

  The realization shocked me, and I managed to remain quiet through the next two blows, though the tears continued to run down my face. But there was a strange warmth in my belly and a fluttering like little thrills running through my body.

  My breath came quickly and my nipples hardened against the fabric of my dress. I was overly sensitive, every movement of cloth or skin on my flesh making me shiver. Between spankings as he rubbed the pain away, I wondered at the sensations. Then I was distracted once more by the next blow.

  He gave me several more, each harder than the last. Then he laid his hand on me again and once more began to slowly circle over my skin. I was still sniffling, my sobs having died away - and again his warm, soft hands eased the pain, leaving only a throbbing and a dull burning. When he moved, I tensed up, waiting for more punishment. But he bent over me and spoke, instead.

  “One day I will rule this kingdom. I will not have it said that I can not rule one slave. Next time you raise your voi
ce to me, it will be the whip. You are only lucky I had no such equipment in my chambers.”

  I sensed the punishment was over, and closed my eyes in relief. “Yes my...” I took a shuddering breath. “Yes... Master.”

  He stood me up, my legs shaking a little as he steadied me. I looked down at the floor, knowing my face was tear-streaked and my eyes red. The Prince moved away for a moment and came back with a length of cloth. I gasped as I realized what he was about to do.

  Silently he took hold of my wrists again and held them together just as he had during the punishment. Then he swiftly wound the cloth around them, binding them tightly together.

  My shaking grew more pronounced. Bound, I was even more helpless – even the illusion of control was completely gone. I had spent a lot of time in the last few months with my hands tied, or roped to other people so that I couldn't escape. Given a choice between this and another spanking, I would have chosen the pain.

  Without a word he led me to the bed. I recalled his arousal in reaction to punishing me and I swallowed hard, afraid of what might come next. But he only bade me stand by the foot of the bed and wrapped the ends of cloth around the bedpost.

  He pressed up against me as he worked, securing my wrists to the wood. “I know what you are thinking.” He said quietly, moving close and speaking in my ear. “And I assure you... I will have you - all of you - in my own time.”

  Another strange thrill passed through me, and I caught my breath, remaining perfectly still.

  After a moment he stepped back and examined his handiwork. “Now I am leaving,” he said. “And since I clearly cannot trust you while I am gone, I will leave you restrained. If you behave yourself, next time I may give you the length of your chain.”

  He left me breathless, with my skin burning under my dress and my knees weak.

  Chapter 5

  After a time my fear faded, leaving me frustrated and weary. I stood, bound to the bedpost, for as long as my legs could take it. Then reluctantly, I worked the bindings down the post and sank to my knees. I pressed my forehead against the cool wood of the bed to rest.

  The room was dim and quiet, and I had nothing to do but think on my situation. To my surprise, I was mostly relieved. The Prince had acknowledged me and wanted to keep me. Then I scolded myself. What was wrong with me, that I was pleased by this turn of events?

  Once more I thought of home, far away across the sea, where things had been uncomplicated and routine. Now I wished I could go back. If I could only go home, never again would I complain of boredom or about the back-breaking farm work. But my home was burned and I was lost, with no one to cling to except for my captor - my Master - and no way out.

  I thought of his parting words to me, and shivered. The spanking had been bad enough. To be right there exposed under the eyes of this stranger, who evidently took pleasure in hurting me. I couldn’t bear to think of him running his hands over my whole body - of holding me down and taking me - violating me. Would he hurt me then, for his own pleasure?

  It doesn’t matter. I told myself. You're his property now. A slave. Stop wishing to go back. Stop thinking as though you have any choice in this, and it will go easier for you.

  I groaned, and shifted to ease the aching in my thighs.

  Sometime later, a pair of slaves entered the chambers. I could hear them bustling about in the main rooms. Then they came in to the bedroom.

  The two women - one elderly, one younger - hesitated for only the briefest moment when they saw me, then averted their eyes and went about their business. They changed the bedding and lit the lamps, walking a wide path around me as they did so. I hid my face against my arms, ashamed to let them see me. Eventually they left without a word.

  I must have dozed, resting against the end of the bed. When I heard the heavy thud of a door again I looked up, expecting more servants. My eyes were swollen and sore from crying, and the light in the room had grown dim. I had to blink several times to clear my vision. The Prince walked in and removed his sword belt, placing it on a bench. He turned and looked down at me. I wanted to hide my face but resisted the urge, though in some meager display of pride I refused to look at him.

  “Are you well?” He asked, coming over to me.

  I nodded, silent. I knew I should address him properly. But at that moment I couldn’t summon the will to flatter him. I was exhausted and sore, and grieving for the loss of my old life, and self.

  He didn’t comment, reaching out to carefully untie the cloth that held me bound to the bedpost. It took him a minute to work the knots, and he cursed to himself as he fumbled with his own handiwork.

  My wrists fell and I rubbed them sullenly, weakly flexing feeling back into my arms.

  He extended a hand, and I stared at it for a moment.

  “Come. Up.” He said.

  The last thing I wanted to do right now was touch him. But he didn't move, and after a long moment I took the offered hand and he helped me up. He was surprisingly solicitous, supporting me as I stood for a moment while feeling crept back into my legs. As soon as I felt steady, I let go of him. I still refused to meet his eyes, sulking like a scolded child.

  “I apologize for my initial frustration with you,” the prince said, standing in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest. “I was... well, I was taken aback by my father's gift – which I thought came from the queen. I am not usually given to paranoia, but this is a time of turmoil. I feared a plot. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, though I wasn't sure. Royal politics meant little to me.

  He raised his brows, searching my eyes earnestly. “I do not suspect you of anything nefarious. I think Indari was merely amusing herself – a jest at my expense, and my father's.” He waved a hand. “It's not important. But I am not sorry for punishing you. I won't tolerate disobedience.”

  I nodded again, and when he stared at me silently I mumbled, “yes, Lord.” I did feel some small relief. Perhaps things would be easier if he didn't think of me as a potential enemy, or the tool of his enemy.

  The matter over, he turned and went to stand in the doorway. “I will bathe now.” He said. “Ring the bell and call for water. I will give you a few minutes to collect yourself, then I'll expect you in the bathing room.”

  I glanced at him briefly, gritting my teeth and feeling my face flush. “Yes, Lord.” I murmured, and he strode out of the room.

  The girls came quickly, bringing steaming water in huge jugs and heavy pails. This time, I tried to stay out of their way.

  I went to the large mirror in the prince's bedchamber as I waited for the slaves to be done. I looked a mess. Truth be told, I didn’t much care, but I put a cursory effort into straightening my hair, combing through it with my fingers.

  I breathed deeply several times, trying to find any semblance of inner calm, and prepare myself for what was to come. What new humiliation would he have in store for me? It would be bad enough, having to bathe him. To see him, naked – to touch him.

  Still, I must please him. I didn't want to be punished again.

  My face must have been bright red as I entered the bathing room, my hands fumbling as I closed the door behind me.

  Issander stood facing me, on the other side of the room, near a pair of long wooden benches. "Well," he said, "I admit it will be nice to have someone to bathe me after a long day." His tone was light, as though he was making an effort to be friendly or casual.

  The last thing I felt was casual. I struggled to keep my composure despite the fluttering in my breast. "Aye, my Lord."

  "Are you familiar with our bathing customs?" He asked.

  I swallowed hard, trying to keep my focus on the immediate moment and not the thought of undressing him and looking at his naked body. "No, my Prince.” At home, a bath was a bucket of cold water poured over your head - or if you were lucky, a lukewarm tub rolled in from outside and set by the fire. “If you will instruct me only once, I am a fast learner."

  He waved a hand dismissively. "I know
the methods are different in your country.” He began tugging off his leather gloves, leaving them on the bench. “Well... there's something to be said for a blank slate."

  I smoothed the skirt of my shift to busy my hands, remembering the way he’d touched my naked skin. Thinking about the way I would soon be touching his skin - and seeing him even more exposed than he had seen me. Would he seem less intimidating? Somehow, I doubted it.

  He sat down on the closest bench and beckoned me over. "The boots." He said, pointing.

  I moved to obey, sinking to my knees before his bench, and hesitantly started to untie the laces of his right boot. The leather was soft and supple, but heavy when I lifted his foot to remove it. Or perhaps that was just the weight of his leg. Carefully, I eased the boots from his feet, taking care not to pull roughly.

  I finished my task without another word from him, and put the shoes aside, sitting back on my haunches and waiting for instructions.

  He stood and gestured for me to rise. "Now the rest." He said, standing still and waiting for me.

  Again I swallowed hard, and had to force my leaden feet to obey as I moved close to him. I was standing so close I imagined I could feel the heat radiating off his body - and again it reminded me of my punishment - of laying across his lap with his hands on me.

  I had to reach up to loosen the laces, and made a conscious effort to breathe as I worked. I was very aware of him looking down at me, watching. I slipped my fingers under the hem of his shirt, biting my lip as I inadvertently brushed his skin.

  I raised the shirt, noticing the slight pain as my shift rose up and the cloth slid against the tender skin of my buttocks. I tried to be graceful, but he was so tall I couldn't reach to pull the shirt over his head. I was standing on the tip of my toes with the shirt in my hands, at the point where his face was covered, but I couldn't reach to get it higher.

  "My Lord," I pleaded, mortified. I made one final effort, cursing myself, and stepped so close that I accidentally leaned against him. I abruptly lost my balance, and landed hard back on the flats of my feet.