Command and Vanquish Ch. 01

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Prince Jaimeth falls in love with rival country's Princess.
12.8k words
4.68
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Part 1 of the 5 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 12/18/2006
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kaitlynB
kaitlynB
68 Followers

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, 2nd 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."

"WOOAAHH!!" Was the laughing refrain from the table. It was a fair comment, though. No respectable girl would go casually to the Prince's bed. If he wanted her, she wanted a seat on a throne. And Jem hadn't found a woman to commit to; he stuck to slaves for pleasure.

Peppin was blushing a bit now as Jem placed his bets against him..

"Alright asshole," Jem said but smiled good-naturedly. "Let's see this 'wooing' ability of yours. I'm curious as to how someone who barely has a spine convinces a woman he's worth her while." Jem leaned back on his chair, still smiling, the gauntlet thrown.

Peppin blushed deeper, thinking he might actually be in trouble. "Alright, Sir. "You pick her out, I'll take her home."

Rayth slapped the table, leaned over and laughed while the Prince's eyes flashed and his crooked smile assisted his jaw in dropping. "Why you arrogant son-of-a….ha! Alright, we'll see. Hmmm…." the Prince rubbed his chin as he surveyed the courtyard. He was going to find the most impossible woman he could, and well versed in being rejected, knew which girls came with strings attached.

Then he found her.

She was walking briskly, head down but shoulders back, a hooded robe covering most of her as a girl carrying a basket heeled her. She was certainly nobility, fairly attractive, but not overly so, and she at once seemed self conscious as well as overly confident. At first glance, he wasn't sure which, the self consciousness or the confidence, was the farce and which was her true nature. Maybe both? He couldn't figure it out, so he was sure Peppin would have just as much difficulty. What he was sure of was Peppin's rejected attempt.

"There. See her? That one in the dark blue hooded robe. Uh-oh, she's getting away! You'd better hurry or you're going to miss your chance to win this!" Jem knowingly flashed his eyes at the young guard, and uneasily, the guard stood up and tried to stride after her.

She had moved too quickly, though, and he had to half run to catch up.

"Excuse me!" Peppin said as he caught up to her by the arm. He had frightened her with his quick movement and firm grasp. She stopped and looked at him wide-eyed and startled. Her maid stopped as well, looking just as terrified. Both seemed to instantly realize he was up to something and the noblewoman put her defenses up. She physically stood as if she were ready to run at any moment.

Peppin tried, "Um, my friends and I were wondering if you'd like to sit down and have a drink at the café with us. Maybe we could talk a while."

"Um, no, I thank you most kindly, but I'm very late," she said with a heavy distinct accent. She was not from their country, and foreigners were rare.

"Well, um, maybe," he tried again, hopeful, "just you and I could go for a walk. I could maybe walk you home, seeing as you're unescorted."

Peppin could hear the slaps on the shoulders of his friends at the table, and made out stifled snickering. Unfortunately, so did she. She didn't know what to do

"No really, really, I must be going," she said again, thickly in her native accent. But he gripped her arm again. "Please, my lady, rest assured that you can expect no harm to come from my hands."

She somehow managed to look simultaneously scared and bold. "What expect from your hands is that they remove themselves from me." He realized his mistake and let go. She warily scanned the faces of the table of men, then looked at Peppin. "I thank you for your invitation, but respectfully decline," she said definitively.

She turned to leave, her servant following close behind.

"Wait!" he called after her, but she was intent on an escape. She didn't look back.

Peppin stood there, alone in the courtyard watching her run away from him, afraid to turn around and face his friends. But he finally had to, and he made eye contact with Jem as soon as he turned. "Smmooooooth" called out the Prince, and the table busted out into laughter. Head down, Peppin returned to the table and sat down.

"Well now, young friend," chided the Prince, "Watch an expert in action."

Rayth, who'd been eyeing a table not far from them, pushed his chair back, stood up and sauntered towards the table full of ladies. Disarming them with charisma, all he had to say was "Hi" before they blushed and giggled. He invited himself to sit, and they began talking. He, however, wished he were at home with his girl. Jem read his mind. "You take care of that table, I'll take care of Alenya when I get home."

Rayth shot Jem a worried look. Jem had made life hard on Alenya just to tease Rayth. Although it hadn't happened yet, it wouldn't be beyond Jem to call Alenya to his bed. Rayth's eyes pleaded. Jem laughed.

"Oh, I'm kidding." The girls at the table giggled, and one whispered to Rayth "I'll take your mind off of her, I promise."

*******************

Jem entered his room, slightly dizzy from drinking. As he undressed, the door cracked open, and a beautiful girl slipped inside. Jem turned, his face hard, and looked at the girl. She wasn't on her knees like he expected of his girls, but standing seductively, black-lined eyes dutifully lowered. She might as well have been naked, but she wore thin gold ropes, draping from her in the most seductive ways. Her body was dusted with shimmering bronzer, her breasts reflecting light as her chest heaved with her nervous breath. Barefooted, her legs muscles flexed to suggest their strength.

He looked her over a long time, then began to undress again, as if disinterested. "What are you doing in here, slave?"

The girl was new to Prince's Hall; she had never served him before. "Master, I have been sent to entertain you for the evening."

He finished undressing, and his nude frame walked over to stand in front of her. His eyes continued an in-depth journey over her body. He owned her.

"And what, my beautiful girl, do you do that's entertaining?"

She swallowed, the closeness of him to her intimidating. "I was sent to dance for you, my Master."

Jem chuckled low in his throat. He could almost smell her nervousness, but he clearly smelled her arousal. "My lovely girl…" he said low and soft, lightly caressing her breast, "…do you dance well?"

The girl tensed; she didn't know how to answer the question. His hands slowly laced through her hair, and he made a fist. "Pretty slave, I asked you a question…"

*******************

Rayth drunkenly staggered back to his room. All he wanted was for Alenya to hold him until he fell asleep.

He remembered back to the first time he saw her. He was hiding from a foreign lord's dinner party, overwhelmed at his young age to have so much responsibility, so little love in return. He lay in the balcony of a music hall, convinced no one would find him there. But then a pretty little slave quietly entered to clean.

He watched her, even though she couldn't see him. She dusted a bit, then looked around the room to see if she'd be caught. Feeling it was safe, she slipped behind a piano, her fingers elegantly, skillfully gliding over the keys. It was a bittersweet melody that fit Rayth's mood perfectly, and he felt fate created her to soothe his soul in this perfect way at this perfect time.

She began to sing a slow, sad melody in her native language. It was punishable by death for a slave to use her native language. But Rayth laid there and listened. So beautiful, the most beautiful song he'd ever heard. Although it was a different language, he understood her perfectly. When the song was finished, he stood and very gravely looked down at her from the balcony.

"Slave…what was that song?"

*******************

The bronze shimmering slave's breath quickened as his grip tightened on her hair. "M-master," she stammered, "some tell me I dance well, and I hope you will find me pleasing."

Jem smiled and moved his lips inches from hers. "I'm sure I'll find you pleasing, lovely little thing," he quietly puffed against her lips, and took a kiss from her plump, soft mouth. When he pulled back, his eyes met hers. He was smiling as though he were being kind to her, but something about his look didn't assure her she was entirely free from harm.

He climbed the dais to his bed, and laid on his back. He laced his hands behind his head, and chuckled, "Entertain me, slave."

The girl took position in the center of the room, struck a pose, and began. Her thigh muscles flexed, and Jem watched intently, his own breath beginning to quicken…

*******************


kaitlynB
kaitlynB
68 Followers