The Empress (Google and Chanti)

[Chanti]

At precisely 3:03pm on a cool early October day, the chain of bells hanging from the door of the 34th Avenue Bookstore tinkled and the colonel came in.
Abel Brassard nodded to the colonel from behind the counter. “Goo’ afternoon, Sir.”

The colonel nodded abruptly back, his gray eyes inscrutable, his bearing erect and aloof. “Good afternoon, Abel.”

That was all that was said. That was all that was ever said. The colonel came in every Wednesday afternoon to purchase a book or two. He began browsing and Abel went back to responding to emails.
A few other customers entered, Abel greeting each one. And then the colonel came up to the desk with two selections.

“Found some good reading, Sir?” Abel rang up both books.

“Yes, thank you.” The colonel watched expressionlessly.

“That will be $22.5…”

“Wait.” The colonel interrupted, leaning forward and picking up one of the books. “No, this is the wrong one. I meant to pick up a similar one, but a different author.”

“I can hold this other one while you get the book you wanted, Sir.”

The colonel paused, considering. Then shook his head. “No, I don’t have time. Just the one, please.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Abel reversed the transaction, setting the rejected book under the counter.

“Your new total is 12.36, Sir.”

The colonel tapped a button on his phone, and the sale completed.

“Thank you, Sir. Have a good day.”

“You as well, Abel.”

The colonel left. Abel moved to assist an elderly customer find a cookbook she wanted. But a few minutes later he returned to his counter, pulling out the book the colonel had declined. He left the counter, but did not return the book to the shelf. Instead, he took it to the storage room in the back.

“Egan.”

A sturdy teenage boy with a careless mop of chestnut brown hair looked up from a delivery box he was opening.

“Sir?”

“The colonel made a delivery today.” Abel opened the book discarded by the colonel and pulled out medium sized envelope, handing it to Egan. “See that it gets to the General right away.”

“Yes, Sir.” The boy abandoned the box he was opening, shoving the envelope in his pocket. They left the back room together, and a few steps out of the door Abel suddenly let out a surprised grunt, his voice growing louder than before.

“Oh, here. I forgot I was carrying this. Restock it, please.”

“Yes, Sir.” Egan took the book, restocked it, then headed for the door.

Abel shouted after him.

“Only a half hour for lunch, boy! Don’t be late again!”

“Yes, Sir!” Egan called back, then hurried down the street.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

General Allen Moore was no longer a general. He had retired from the army rather than be court martialed for an ill-advised comment he thought was made to a friend regarding the Slave Act of 2270. But the comment had been reported, and the Council looked unfavorably on anything they perceived as disloyalty. General Moore’s perfect military record had saved him from any further punishment. As far as the world knew, General Moore died in a hunting accident less than a year later. In fact, he was alive and well – plotting his revenge.

He received the note from the colonel, his Council spy, within the hour. He read it swiftly, then called together his own council. Three men and one woman. All of them powerful members of the Tars Empire, and secretly devoted to the General’s Leninite Society – working towards an overthrow of the autocratic and corrupt empire, towards the socialist society of their dreams.

Here with his own council, the General was swift and to the point. No time was to be wasted. He sat at his desk, viewing the faces of the attendants on the large tv screen on the wall.
“The emperor is dying. Our contact doesn’t expect him to live the week.”

“He has been sick for awhile now. What brought around this change?” Bremley Hatton frowned. Hatton had served under the General in the army, and now was a highly respected teacher at the War Academy. To alleviate any suspicion due to his former friendship with the General, Hatton kept a slave – the only member of the Lenin Council to keep a slave.

“Possibly natural escalation of his illness, but our contact suspects poison. None of this matters now though, we need to make sure everything is in place for the presentation of Katrin. We are running out of time.”

“Does she know?” Ahuron Hadad was a stunningly beautiful woman with golden skin, thick long black hair, and inviting eyes. Born in Egypt to a poor family, she had climbed her way to the top in the age old fashion of women – in the beds of her male superiors. At the age of 33 she was smart enough to know that even though she was still a beautiful woman, she would not be able to rely on that advantage for long. From her last lover she had obtained a position as an executive assistant to the mayor of the empire’s capital city, Lahas. Though interested in the Leninite manifesto she had not come over to them until they had gotten their hands on the most valuable prize in the world – the heir of the Empire. Ahuron was only interested in joining winning sides, and the General always kept that in mind. She was the least loyal of the bunch, if the wind turned, so would she. But the access she had to important documents and schedules made the risk worth it.

“No. I see no reason to run the risk of a teenage girl struggling with guilt, running to Daddy, and ruining everything. She need never know we knew of this. It’s not public knowledge.”
Ahuron nodded approvingly.

“We have a mere twenty-four hour window to present her, by law. Then the Council will seal themselves in the voting chamber and a new Emperor will come out. I still think we should take her straight to the Council Chambers. You run a great risk with your plan, General.” Findley Marten was a constant thorn in the general’s side, always questioning. But his value kept the general patient. Marten was immensely wealthy – and a senior editor of the Empire’s Voice, the government managed news organization.

The General’s eyes narrowed, his only indication of annoyance.

“We have covered this repeatedly, Marten. We don’t dare take her directly to the Council Chambers. They could kill her and while some would believe us, nothing would come of it. No, she must be presented in public first. Everyone must see her.”

“It is very dangerous. Not just for her, but for me. I will be the one approving it, I will be the one the axe will fall on.” Marten’s eyes shifted nervously to the side of the screen, then back again. Was someone else there? Moore wondered.

“No axe dare fall on you, Marten. And you have your reasons for it already. You will be fine. It is essential that she be presented in as much of a public fashion as possible. She can be taken directly from the studio to the Council Chambers, and they will have to admit her. By then the world will have seen her and know that she is still alive.”

The General looked to the last man. A silent man by nature, Agar Joren was an intelligence man. Working in the bowels of the empire, the man seemed to know everything about everyone. The General never once questioned Agar’s loyalty to the Leninist Society. After all, the bonds between the General and Agar went beyond comradeship. Agar was the general’s son, born when the general was a mere sergeant - to his secret lover in the hellish place that was once Cambodia and was now nothing more than enclaves of savage battling warlords. When the general’s lover had been murdered on her way to the market, the general smuggled his three year old son out of the country and into the Empire. He had the boy raised in the home of former servants, paying for his upkeep and education. The man had went into intelligence because he was both good at it, and it was incredibly useful to his father. No, Agar’s loyalty was unquestionable.

“Is your man ready?” The general asked.

Agar nodded – a swift jerk of his head. His dark eyes cold. “Yes. Summon him and he will be at the side of the Grand Duchess within fifteen minutes with his team.”

Moore frowned. He despised the royal titles and abhorred their use – especially by his son. But he did not reprimand Agar. “Very well. Then everything is set. We are just waiting on the bastard to die.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Damnit, Katie! Just this once! Come on! I swear I am not lying. Andy said Gabe SWORE he was going to kiss you tonight. You CAN’T wear that for your first kiss!”

The girls eyed each other across the bed. One a lovely, model-tall blond with plump lips and big tits stuffed into sheer tight black pants that hugged her thighs, with a vibrant red silk top belted with a broad leather black belt resting on her hips. She was perfectly manicured, hair perfectly curled and pulled up in a bun, her makeup sensual and elegant.

The other a fierce little redhead wearing jeans, white tanktop that molded to her pert teenage tits, and a loose red plaid shirt. Her copper hair tumbled in a lovely riot around her thin shoulders, her makeup demure and understated but somehow making her vibrant hazel eyes pop beautifully.

A tiny little scrap of a black lace dress lay on the bed between them, like a bone of contention between two dogs.

“Fuck that.” The redhead spat out. “I’ve never worn a dress before for him. No reason to do that now. If Gabe doesn’t want to kiss me when I’m wearing jeans fuck him.” There was a little hurt flash in her eyes, despite her belligerent words.

“But Katie…” The blonde wailed miserably, but red-haired Katie cut her off sharply.

“No, Heather. It’s just a party at his cousin’s house. Not like we are going to some stupid high class club.”

“At least let me do your hair and makeup, Katie.” Heather looked unhappily at her friend. “Pretty please?”

Katie shook her head firmly. “Nope. We need to leave soon anyway. No time. I am fine.”

The girls squabbled a bit more, but Katie won out – as she always did. Her friends affectionately teasingly called her “Her Imperial Highness” behind her back – never to her face. Katie would have been furious….because it was true.

Five years ago at the tender age of 12, Katie had ran away from the palace where she and her father the Emperor lived. She had left as much of that life behind her as she could. Desperate to mingle and blend with ordinary, normal people. She hated to dress up. Refused to study more than enough to earn a low B. She cursed, chewed gum, and had a beautiful german shepherd given to her by her friend and rescuer, General Moore. The man who had found her on the streets and brought her to his friends where she could be safe. But one thing she could not leave behind was her imperious nature, bred into her there in the palace. A nature that insisted on obedience, insisted that things be done to her satisfaction. Her friends were amused by it, because they knew that Katie had a kind heart and she loved them fiercely.

Together, the girls left. Katie kissing her foster mother goodbye. Her foster parents were good friends of the general, but normal everyday people who were more than happy to help any way they could. Katie adored them. Her foster mother Stacy was a sweet maternal woman in her life who was half friend, half mother. Her foster father James was a plump round man full of humor and encouragement.
“Be back by one, I promise Stacy” Katie waved goodbye and she and Heather walked down the street.

The city of Lahas had been created over the ruins of what had once been the great city of New York. It had been carefully planned into neighborhoods of 20x20 blocks. Those neighborhoods included businesses, schools, stores, homes, apartments, parks, entertainment venues. Many people rarely left the neighborhood they were born into. Cars were an expensive rarity – not because of the vehicles themselves, but because of the fuel to run them. So most people took public transportation – the monorails that ran under the city – or walked. The planning made it easier on the government to keep track of people as well, since within the neighborhoods everyone seemed to know everyone. The neighborhood Katie and Heather were part of was known to be full of “dissidents”, and the little enclave protected itself as well as it could from the curious eye of the government. Even so, for the first two years here, Katie had rarely ventured outside her home. It had simply been too dangerous. That made the freedom of this little walk all the sweeter though.

As parties go, it was a small one. About 25 kids hanging out in the townhouse, a BBQ fired up on the back porch with hot dogs and hamburgers. Music pounding from the basement. A screech from a laughing girl from somewhere in the back yard. Gage met her at the door, his dark blonde hair drooping over his forehead, his smile easy and relaxed as he drew her to his side, wrapping a strong arm around her. It was one of the many things she loved about Gage. Nothing ever seemed to get to him, and he made her feel safe.

“Hey, babe. Gorgeous as always.” He smiled down at her. White teeth flashing, making her knees a little week. Was he really going to kiss her tonight, or was that just rumor? They had been dating for a month now. Had held hands a lot, cuddled a lot. But not yet kissed. She was starting to get a complex. Did he even want her like that?

She grinned back at him. “Thanks. Heather tried to bully me into wearing a dress.”

He gasped in mock horror, turning accusing eyes on Heather, who started laughing. He wrapped protective arms around Katie, pulling her close. “How dare you!” False outrage in his tone. “Try and put my baby in a dress! Scandalous!”

Katie was still giggling as he maneuvered her onto the back porch. Heather vanished in the crowd. Gage grabbed a plate with a hotdog and a burger on it, and a big cup of coke. “Come on, I bet you didn’t eat before coming.”

She hadn’t. So she and Gage sat side by side on one of the swings on the back deck, chatting while she ate. When she was finished, he pulled her into his lap. She blinked at him with big eyes, and somehow the din of voices around them faded away. His finger traced her cheekbone, his eyes tender.

“Guess what day it is, Katie?”

She tried to think. “Ummm….”

Thinking was impossible. It was like she was breathing him.

“It’s our one month anniversary.” His lips curled up in a smile. “You are stunning, Katie. I wanted to take my time. Not come across as some kid who only wanted one thing. I want you, Katie. Forever. So I waited to do this….”

Her lips parted in astonishment, and the only thought she had was the horrified realization that he was going to kiss her after she had just eaten a hotdog and a hamburger, for fucks sake.
But then it didn’t matter. His lips tender on hers, adoring her. She melted against him, wrapped her arms around his sturdy shoulders. Firm young tits tingling against his hard chest.
“Miss Katrin”

The voice was male and expressionless, somehow managing to convey a hint of disapproval. But it did not penetrate the fog of the kiss, at least not for her. Gage pulled back though, frowning at the man standing in front of them. The man had ice blond hair. Gray steel for eyes. A hard viciously trained body bristling with weapons. Four other men stood behind him. Silent. Implacable. The kids standing around were all silent now, staring at the newcomers.

Gage reacted to the weapons by shifting the stunned Katie off his lap, standing up and positioning himself between Katie and the men. A flicker of approval flashed in the man’s cold eyes.
“Who are you?” Gage was afraid, but his tone was belligerent.

The man’s icy eyes flickered to Katie, answering the question to her.

“My name is Michel Chernovsky. I am here to protect you, Your Highness.”

Katie gasped, stiffening.

“Katie!” It was General Moore, pushing through the crowd of kids in the house, panting from having run here from his car.

“Katie I am so sorry, my dear. But we have no time. There is no gentle way to break this news. Your father, the emperor, is dead.”

____________________________________________
“Ladies and gentlemen this is Serene with Empire’s Voice, we have all heard the sad news that our beloved Emperor Santilan passed away earlier this afternoon. But here at Empire’s Voice we have been informed of a startling development. I ask that you all welcome this young lady at my side….”

The camera panned from the sober faced news anchor to the equally sober face of the young Katie. She was no longer in jeans and a flannel shirt. She was in black slacks, a gray camisole, and a demure black jacket. Hair gathered neatly behind her in a ponytail. She gave the camera the smallest of smiles as she was introduced to viewing audience of the popular Serene.
“…Her Imperial Highness Katrin Isolde Santilan, Grand Duchess of the Gollen Isles, Imperial Protectress of the Danelaw Nation, Seat of the Kastern Colonies.”

Serene took a deep breath, smiling gently at her nervous guest.

“Let me first offer my condolences on the death of your father, Your Highness. He was a beloved emperor to us all, but a father to you.”

“Thank you, Serene.” Katie’s voice was calm, dignified, assured. “It was a shock to me, as I am sure it was all of you. I have so many regrets…and I am sure you have so many questions.”

Serene nodded, taking the opportunity provided by the teenage girl.

“Some unfortunate questions, Your Highness. A lot of people will be wondering why you ran away. Everyone presumed you were dead. And even more will be wondering why you are returning now, after your father has passed.”

Katie didn’t even blink. She had been carefully coached as to what questions to expect.

“And probably rightfully angry at me. But we have all made poor decisions as children. Mine were just poorer than most. I ran away in a fit of anger at my father – just as many teens to. And just as many teens, my pride got in the way of admitting my fault.” She hesitated, sadness creeping into her eyes. “My father was not an old man. I thought I would have time to….” Her hands lifted. Fingers flutering uncertainly. “…fix things. I was horribly wrong.”

“Are you coming back to mourn your father only, or do you plan to lay a claim to the throne of the Empire?” Serene looked out at the camera, then back to Katie.

Katie straightened, her shoulders squaring as if she knew of the battle that was to come. “I may have made mistakes, but I am my fathers only child and heir. I have a duty to the Empire I do not have the right to refuse. There is no more running away for me.”

“Where have you been all this time, Your Highness? Surely not on the streets.”

A real smile crossed Katie’s face now, and she turned and looked to the side of the camera where General Moore stood anxiously watching. Behind him Michel and his men watched everyone on the set with guarded eyes.

“Oh no. I was on the streets for a few days, but then General Moore found me. He wanted to take me back to my father but I refused and tried to run away again. To keep me safe he promised to keep my secret, as long as I lived under his watch. He found me an unbelievably kind family to live with, and saw that my education continued. Always encouraging me to return to my father.”

It was her first lie. The only indication a flicker of her eyes to the side. The General had never once encouraged her to go back to her father, but the lie was important.

“I wish now I had listened to him.”

Serene smiled at the General who approached the set, sitting down at the side of Serene. Serene had a few more questions for the general, but there was little time left.
Next stop would be the Council Chambers, where Katie would officially claim the empire for her own.

 

[DomG]

http://cdn02.cdn.justjared.com/wp-c.../06/brant-daugherty-shirtless-photo-shoot.jpg





High Lord Michael Kane was tense...

Not stressed out because the man was never truly stressed out but he was tense. News would be coming at any moment, news that he would need to receive perfectly though he was already expecting it, news that would change everything for him. Tonight would see the culmination of seven years of hard work, back room politics, and quite a bit of back alley work carried out by his hands and those of his most trusted agents. There had been false starts, there had been set backs, and there had been a great deal more waiting then he enjoyed but within the day he would have what he had always wanted.



For a time he had paced within his office, like a great cat within a cage, but after a short time he chose to do something far more destructive. Moving from the private office in his capitol penthouse he shed his clothing as he went, knowing that his slaves would ensure it was all picked up before he passed that way again. By the time he reached his destination, the sprawling room that served as his private gym, he was down to nothing more then a pair of boxer briefs that would leave nothing to the imagination of anyone who walked in on him. Being tense wasn't productive, he needed to burn off some excess energy and a good workout seemed like the best way to do just that.



Of course, a few days before he simply would have summoned several of his sex slaves, picking out those who would best suit his foul mood... but in anticipation for what was coming he had dismissed all but his favorite. When he was made emperor, and he was certain that he would, he would be able to build a harem from the daughters of the other nobility, the high lords and the many lesser nobles spread throughout the Empire, and beauties gifted to him by the rules of other nations that would seek to exploit his carnal needs for political advantage. The one he kept, she had been his favorite for about two years, and she would be his lead courtesan, a lowly slave who would be elevated over the others in the harem he would create just to ensure they knew their place.



Reflecting on that with a smile and a shake of his head, Michael moved to a treadmill and began an uphill run, he could be patient a little while longer so long as he was distracted.

And so he ran, for nearly two straight hours he ran, eyes unfocused and mind nearly empty as his feet slapped against the rubber surface. The miles ticked away, sweat dripping from his body, for a time he achieved something approaching a zen state of mind until it was shattered by a knock at the door. He didn't miss a step but for a moment he had been close to stumbling, not expecting to be interrupted in such a direct way. With a snarl marring his features Michael cut off the treadmill, hopping from it before it had even ceased motion. On his way to the door he snatched up a towel, not moving to cover himself but instead drying some of the sweat from his face. No longer was he relaxed, there was a good chance that the person who knocked at the door would have their head torn off.



But when the door opened his anger receded somewhat, knowing that the man before him would never have dared interrupt him if it wasn't vital.



Commander Ravenor, the man in charge of the Ravens, secret police of the empire and direct subordinate of Lord Kane, was a man that could only be described as normal, average in height and build, his hair a common brown as were his eyes, and wearing only a dark suit instead of any ostentatious uniform... only distinguishable from a common man by the way that he could meet the eyes of the High Lord responsible for the internal security of the empire without flinching.



“Forgive the interruption Lord but there is news.” Even his voice was entirely plain Michael reflected as he took a deep breath, working to bring his pulse under control.



“The Emperor...” Michael spoke slowly, the question understood but left unspoken in case anyone was listening to them.



“Declared dead just minutes ago sir but there is other news. Our mole within the Leninite society has provided some vital intelligence, something that can't be trusted to any normal channels.” A moments pause, giving his boss a chance to ask questions before he continued. “They will be putting Her Imperial Highness Katrin Isolde Santilan as heir to the throne.”

The towel fell to the floor as Michael froze in shock, trying to process what he had just heard. Searches for Katrin had turned up nothing, the trail going cold in a dangerous part of the city, and it had been concluded that the girl was likely dead and if not... she would be in not condition to ever return. Within moments he had recovered from the shock, his mind racing and his jaw clenching tight. “This is confirmed... her identity.” A pretender could be put forward, a look alike, perhaps another council member would be trying to pull something at the last minute to disrupt his clear path to the Imperial Throne.



“Our mole provided a sample of the girls hair, DNA testing has confirmed it... the girl is alive and has apparently been under the protection of the General.”



“Shouldn't have let Moore live.” Michael reflected angrily, annoyed that he had spared the mans life at the urging of the other Council members, expecting the man to go into his retirement and be grateful for his continued existence. “The clock starts now Commander, every Raven is on this, full priority. We need to know what that girl has been up to these last five years, who she has spoken to, any friends she has had. Anyone of importance is to be taken into custody, have them disappear into a black site.” Off the books custody, no records, Michael would need to be cautious.

“Of course Sir.” The man said, a slight smile on his face as he moved to carry out his orders.





- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



A short time later Michael was dressed, preparing to go to a meeting of the council that would soon be called. He hadn't bothered to call a slave to get together his clothing, instead he dressed himself in a dark suit that had been made for just this day... for plans that were now wasted. The only splash of color among the black and gray was the red and gold sigil of his family on a lapel pin. He knew his slaves were around but they were keeping their distance, knowing their master was in a foul mood.



Sitting on a comfortable couch, fingers digging into the leather, he was watching the heir apparent on the TV as she gave an interview. How she had emerged after so long still baffled him, still enraged him. This girl had already ruined his first plan to take the throne, when he had convinced her father to prepare to publicly announce the betrothal of Michael to his only child. It would have been the easier path, far simpler then the black mail and bribery that had been necessary to ensure the Council would declare him Emperor once the current holder of the title died, that is what he had been required to resort to when his intended bride to be had run away.



“This changes nothing.” He whispered to himself, already moving to plan anew. Katie would assume the throne, nothing he could do would change that... so instead he would need to control her and find a way to the throne. Marriage was still a viable option, though one that would require a bit of finesse.

A buzz from his phone drew his attention, a message appearing on the screen with no return number. Several friends in custody, including a boyfriend, unharmed but uncomfortable, awaiting further orders.

After the motion of him lifting his phone the message remain displayed for precisely ten seconds before deleting itself... plenty of time for Michael to read and smile to himself.



“Bring the car around!” He barked, not caring who obeyed as long as someone did as he instructed. “I need to get to the Council Chambers right away.” There was no time to waste, he would need to ensure he had control before the girl did anything inadvisable.

 

[Chanti]

Rain started to fall when she left the studio. So tense she could hardly breathe. Surrounded by strange, hard, watchful men. General Moore beside her babbling about how well she had done. Someone held a car door open and she slid in. She was too stressed to even enjoy the limo ride – a luxury she had not enjoyed since she left the palace.



She was cold. Looking down at the prickled flesh on her arms, drops of water clinging to her taut young skin.



“Katie!” The general barked into her ear, and she jumped. Turning wide, bewildered eyes towards him. He softened, patting her cold hand.

“Breathe, Katie. Breathe. Deep breaths. With me.” He took a deep breath, and she imitated him. Since the interruption at the party she had not had time to think. To feel. She was numb, instinctively pushing away her feelings and doing what was required. It was something she had been taught to do from infancy. She followed the general’s instructions mindlessly. Soaked in his urgent coaching.

She breathed deeply a few more times. Her chest rising and falling.



One of her guards dropped his eyes to her breasts then snapped them back up, meeting Michel’s coldly furious eyes. The man blushed and looked away out of the window. Michel made a mental note to fire the bastard once he got a chance for a replacement. Men looking at the girl’s admittedly lovely tits were not looking for threats. And his people had already cataloged many, many threats. Michel expected new ones to be added hourly.



“Katie, I need you to keep it together for a bit. I know this is a lot on you, but you have your friends at your back.”



“I want to talk to Gage.” Her voice shook with nerves. General Moore’s eyes smiled but he said nothing, flipping open his phone and typing into it. A faint ringing sound from the other end echoed. Again. Again. Finally a small beep to indicate there had been no answer.



“Call me immediately, Gage.” General Moore was abrupt. “Katie needs to talk to you.”


She didn’t have her own phone. She had forgotten it. But one of the General’s aids carried it. They had not forgotten it.



“Now Katie, at the Council let me talk. Never leave Michel’s side for anything. If someone asks you questions I will nod at you if you are to answer. If so, answer in the way we have already went over. This won’t take long, Katie. Then you can rest. Grieve properly. I am so sorry you are having to go through this but it is essential. You understand?”



General Moore patted her hand again and she suppressed a brief flash of hatred for him that shocked her. This man had given her the new life she desperately needed, why would she be angry at him? It wasn’t his fault – none of this was. She understood the importance of claiming the empirical seat. Lives…thousands of them…depended on it. Slaves needed to be freed. Poverty stricken people needed food, shelter, clothing. Political prisoners needed to be freed from their cells and work camps.



She had known this moment was coming. She just hadn’t expected it so soon. And the reality of it was far different than the expectations of it. She had not expected to grieve for her barbaric and autocratic father. Had not expected to be so frightened of ruling, of making mistakes. Had not expected to feel so terribly alone. She needed Gage.



She nodded, unable to speak through her thick, closed throat. Looked at Moore’s phone longingly, her heart aching. She wanted Gage with her desperately. Even if it was only to look into his kind, strong eyes. But even if she just heard his voice, it would be enough. Maybe she would be able to speak to him without crying.

​

She saw the glowing green pillar of the Council Chamber ahead and her stomach clenched in rebellion. She remembered Heather’s comment on it….’It’s like a fat green dick’ and hysterical laughter bubbled up out of her lips before she swallowed it, flushing. Moore lifted an eyebrow and looked at her worriedly. She bit her lip and looked at him apologetically.



“I’m sorry, it’s just…” Her fingers fluttered helplessly.



He nodded soberly. “Too much. I understand. But I know you are strong and you will get through this. We will be here to help you. I will get Gage or you as soon as I can.”



When they pulled up in front of the towering council chambers, the men scrambled out of the car, one of the general’s aides snapping open an umberella to shield her from the rain before the general beckoned her out.



She thought for a moment of refusing. If demanding to be taken back to Gage, to fall into his arms and cry her heart out. But she had a duty. She slid out of the car, her black heels clicking on the pavement. Lifting her chin, squaring her shoulders. Striding without prompting into the building, the men surrounding her.



The first problem came at the doors. The armed council guards hurried over to their group and refused to allow her own guards to enter while armed. She waited impatiently while they argued, and the council guards escalated, calling officers. No one paid any attention to her as the men bristled and postured. At least not until with a huff of annoyance she stepped to the side, entering one of the doors left unguarded when all the guards had swarmed her group.



She stood in the imposing lobby, staring around at the bureaucrats hurrying too and fro, not noticing the teenage girl standing there who would soon be their new empress.



And then everyone seemed to notice at the same time what she had done. Michel made a furious grunt. The council guards shouted at her. The general desperately called her name. As one, the men broke their arguing and ran to her. Squeezing through the doors they bumped into each other. Weapons were drawn. She spun on her heel, eyeing the council guards coldly.



“This is ridiculous. Take me immediately to the Council Chambers. You know who I am, and any further attempts at your silly posturing will result in you being terminated from your positions before morning. You will allow my guards to accompany me without further interference. Do I make myself clear?”



The council guards gaped at her, then looked uncertainly at each other. The general grinned, delighted at her show of spirit. Michel was still pissed, the only one who didn’t stop cold in his tracks at her demand. Making his way to her side, his steel eyes warning her silently to not move from his side again.

 

[DomG]

Triage.

Triage, triage, and triage...

When Michael had turned eighteen he had enrolled in the capitol law enforcement academy, the same place that anyone who wanted to work in enforcement in any capacity in the region had to start. To ensure he had the proper experience his father made sure that no one knew that the son of a High Lord was enrolled. Michael had used a fake name during the two years of basic and then advanced training, his father hadn’t even attended the graduations to ensure nothing out of the ordinary happened. During the second semester of basic training there was an instructor, Instructor Ambrose, who had drilled that word into their minds while teaching emergency/insurgency response.

The human mind was a wondrous thing, capable of feats that could surprise anyone... but in an emergency situation one had to focus on the most pressing issues first and then work down the list. In a riot, you would deal with anyone who was an immediate threat before scooping up the agitators that were leading the easily swayed crowds.

In the moment, sitting in the back of his armored town car as it sped through the capitol, Michael was reflecting on the lessons of Instructor Ambrose. There had been some serious mistakes made by those beneath him, in failing to find the heir to the throne they were putting nearly a decades worth of careful planning at risk. Heads would roll, those who were found responsible would find themselves assigned to the worst possible positions in the Empire to ensure the short time they had left was unpleasant...

But in the moment such thoughts served no purpose and so Michael did not indulge, the heir to the throne was the problem. If she had been discovered even a few hours before then something could have been done to prevent her from claiming the throne, by his reckoning three hours warning would have made enough of a difference, but with the situation as it was, Michael had to play the hand he was dealt.

Katie, Her Imperial Majesty and a dozen other titles beside, would take the throne. No matter what, Michael could see no way to prevent that and so he planned what he would do next. Establishing control over her right away was the key, that much was obvious, and while such things couldn’t be rushed because the Empire would expect her to be in mourning for her father... a marriage would be necessary. Michael wouldn’t be content to have a hand on the shoulder of the Empress, he wanted the throne for himself and once they married that would be assured...

Her claim to the throne through blood was unassailable but the Empire was strongly patriarchal, if there was a male heir then a woman would not assume the throne. In addition to that long standing tradition, Michael was a blood relative of the Imperial family, by way of a great grand mother who was the older sister of a precious Emperor. On the day that they were wed, he would become the Emperor and she would have the duty of producing heirs and smiling at official functions.

As his mind went through the next stages of what must be done Michael forced himself to relax, knowing that the eyes of the Empire would be on the Council and the Empress to be, public apperance would be of the upmost importance. To aid in the relaxation he poured a drink, a small measure of brandy to take the edge off, it wouldn’t do to be drunk but what he really needed was the oral service of a well trained slave... a pity that wasn’t available.

“Remind me to find someone to design a new building for the Council to meet in.” He commented as the nearly obscene mass of green came into view, knowing full well that the Raven who was assigned as his valet at the time would simply pay lip service and never mention it again.

• — - - - - - -

The trip into the building passed without much incident for Michael as he, and the other High Lords, all managed to arrive before the new Empress to be. It was well known amongst them that her father was not long for the world and so they had made sure they were nearby for when the day came.

Though, they had all expected to vote to confirm Michael Kane, the youngest of their number, to the throne. Over the past several years he had worked diligently, gaining leverage over his supposed peers by learning their vices and ambitions, and like so many men who had thought themselves secure in their secrets... they were weak once exposed.

Now, in the Council Chamber, all guards and secretaries dismissed, they sat around the large circular table where they did their business, each taking the chair marked with the crest of their respective family, most looking at either Michael or the empty throne that was always present should the Emperor choose to attend.

Michael, calm and collected, looked around and met the gaze of each of them, taking the time to weigh them before he spoke.

The Imperial Army.
The Imperial Navy.
Finance.
Intelligence.
Infrastructure.
Communication (colloquially and accurately called propaganda).
And of course Michael’s own seat, internal security.

The seven high lords in that chamber were direct descendants of the men who had helped the first Emperor rise to power and solidify his holdings... and for the next few minutes they would remain the most powerful men in the entire Empire.

“When the Empress to be arrives you will all clear this room.” Michael instructed them, daring any of them to object. “Go to the attached chambers and wait until you are summoned to return. Before we confirm her to the throne I have some security concerns to discuss with our Empress to be, privately.” The last word was dripping with danger and malice but none of the men assembled did more then look uncomfortable for a few moments...

They had already been prepared to give Michael the throne, what difference would a few minutes with Katie make to them?

 

[Chanti]

The council guards gave in.



Katie indulged in the briefest moment of satisfaction. The first battle had been won.



Instead of preventing her guards from escorting her, three of the council guards chose to accompany them. She did not argue, as with their escort no other guards they passed challenged them. The elevator was a large one, but with five of her own guards, the general and two aids, and three council guards, Katie felt almost crushed. Especially when they all got in and the men jostled for position, her own guards winning that battle and acting as a buffer between her and the council guards.



Katie let out a loud sigh when that happened, but did not speak.



A tense silence filled the elevator car as it rose to the top of the tower, where the Chamber itself sat. Four more council guards guarded the doorway to the chamber, unblinking as the elevator contents emptied into the antechamber.



The next shot was fired as she and her guards approached the massive black doors. The council guards stepped in front of the doors, hands on their weapons.



“Only you are permitted entry, Your Highness. Your guards have not been approved by security. However the Council Chambers are the safest place in the Empire for you.”



She opened her mouth to speak, but the General interjected. His tone brisk, commanding.



“I understand you have your orders, and most of our men will remain here. However myself and one of her guards will accompany her into the Council Chambers.”



The guard was unmoved.



“I apologize, Sir. However our orders are no one may pass except Her Highness.”



“My orders trump any other orders you may have. And I say General Moore and my guard here will accompany me into the chambers.” Katie gestured to Michel, who eyed the guards with no expression.



“I beg your pardon, Your Highness. But you have not been declared Empress yet, and until you are I am in dereliction of my duty if I disobey an order from my commander in order to obey you.” The man was firm, but entirely respectful.



Katie hesitated, considering. He was technically correct. Was it a mistake to back down? Should she continue pushing? Or would it simply make her look petulant and overbearing?



General Morris interjected himself again.



“I demand….”



She interrupted him ruthlessly, ignoring the startled and warning look he shot her way.



“Who is your commander?”



“High Lord Kane, Your Highness.”



“And where is he?”



“He is inside, Your Highness. Waiting for you with the rest of the Council.” A rather dry smile creased the man’s leathery cheeks. “You are expected.”



“And if he changes his orders, you will stand down and allow my people to come in?”



“Gladly, Your Highness. I am to follow orders, whatever those orders are.”



She pursed her lips, considering again.

“Very well.”



The General made a sound to speak again, and Michel shifted uneasily at her side. She lifted a staying hand.



“It will be fine. I will speak with Lord Kane and you will both be granted entry.”



They were forced to obey. To disobey, to protest further, would weaken her in the eyes of those watching. And none of them doubted that on secret hidden cameras everywhere, hundreds were watching. Their every move, word, expression would be analyzed later. Weaponized.



Alone, the Grand Duchess stepped forward. The guards at the door bowed, turned, and opened the door for her. She strode in.



She was small. Dainty, even. Especially with the powerful soldiers behind her in the antechamber as she stepped through the door. But every flex of her slender body showed nothing but calm certainty and iron control. No trace of fear or doubt showed itself in those pretty eyes that boldly met the eyes of the powerful men – all men - in that room.



These men, she had no doubt, she would be going to war with. And perhaps not simply in the political sense.

 

[DomG]

Michael and the other High Lords remained seated as the doors slid open and then closed again, a statement of solidarity. These were men who had been in power for a long time, whose families had raised them to know how to wield the power they had... though she might be the Empress within the hour, none of them would be intimidated by a slip of a girl and they wanted her to know that.

But once the doors closed six of the men within did rise and moved towards other doors along the sides of the room, exiting without a word. Not a single one of them so much as glanced back at her as they did so and soon Katie was left alone within the meeting room for the Council with Michael.



“I beg you patience for one moment Grand Duchess.” Michael said with a slight smile before pressing a button set on the table before his seat. Nothing changed, at least nothing that was visible, though the room was suddenly much more isolated. Without a single noise the doors had sealed magnetically and the air vents had closed up with sound proofed panels. Of course there would be no air conditioning or even fresh air circulating into the room before Michael unsealed it all. Some might think that the High Lord was overly paranoid but he wanted to make absolutely sure there was no one listening in, even the Grand Duchess had been discreetly swept for recording devices as she made her way up through the elevator and the way the room was sealed would keep anyone within from getting a single that wasn't hard wired in.



“That's better, now we can speak frankly.” In an instant his tone had changed, when he first spoke to her it was only politely deferential though not overly respectful... but now he was talking down to her the way an older sibling would speak to a dim younger sister. “And before you speak I want you to listen very carefully to everything I have to say, you don't want to miss anything I assure you.” He doubted Katie was used to being spoken to like this but he had a great deal of experience speaking to others in a way that made sure they were kept off balance the entire time.



Slowly, almost lazily, he rose from his seat. “First, let me express how pleased we all are that you have returned to us safe and sound, my men searched high and low but couldn't find you and we had all assumed the worst, I was particularly distraught to learn that my betrothed was quite likely dead... even if our engagement had never been formally announced.”

That was likely going to raise some sort of comment but he raised a hand to forestall what she might want to say. If she had ever known that they were to be engaged Michael wasn't sure but in the end it didn't matter, he still had the deceleration signed by her father that had formalized it while the Empress would have the power to nullify such a thing he was moments away from making sure she had no interest in doing just that.

As he spoke he had made his way around the table, away from Katie and to the Throne of the Emperor, and with a smile upon his face Michael took the seat, settling in as though born to it. True, this isn't what he had in mind for when he would take the throne but he was still going to enjoy the moment. Reaching into a pocket with deliberate slowness, wanting to make sure she was forced to wait for what would come next, he withdrew his phone and plugged it into a recessed port on the throne. The push of a few buttons opened up a panel in the center of the table, revealing a projector that only displayed static for a few moments.

“Now, as I was saying earlier, you were presumed dead and your trail went cold quite some time ago... but the Leninite council has a mole within it and while she certainly could have spoken up sooner the notice we received was appreciated.” And of course, there would be consequences for the delay. “Miss Hadad is more then just an ambitious woman with a healthy sex drive and a willingness to do whatever it takes to get ahead, she is also a woman with an eighteen year old sister back in Egypt. She cared nothing for the General's cause, she wants her future secured and she wants her sister to be brought to the Empire.” Already Michael knew the penalty for delaying on the information... her sister would end up warming his bed and amusing him with her suffering.



The push of another button and the projection changed, displaying pictures of her friends, of her would be boyfriend, and finally the couple who had been treating her like a daughter for the past five years. The first set of pictures were taken from a distance, showing them going about their loves... but then a second set appeared. The same people, the exact same clothing, but each of them with a black silk back over their head to obscure faces. “Before you say a word I am going to remind you to listen.” He interrupted before a word could be said, though he knew she likely wanted to say in that moment. “The fate of these people are in your hands and what you do next will determine what happens to them. If you listen very closely to what I have to say then I can promise that they won't come to any more harm then necessary, if you don't listen to me then I promise you that they will suffer. The couple who took you in will be shot against a wall, all of your pretty friends will end up being sold at the lowest end slave markets that can be found... except for that blonde Heather girl who will be lucky enough to service me until I get tired of her, and the young man, I believe his name is Gage, will have his legs broken, poorly set, and then sent to a forced labor camp.” Though his voice was ice cold with a cruel edge to it, Michael was smiling like a lion eyeing a wounded antelope.



“In a few moments the other High Lords will come back in and we will all exit this room together, the official minutes will show that we voted unanimously to confirm that you will be crowned Empress, the first in the history of the Empire, and several of us gave thanks to god almighty that you have been returned to us like some kind of miracle. In a few days there will be an official coronation, you will wear a lovely gown and assume the throne.” At that he stood, rising from the throne himself and moving towards her, each step making the size difference even more obvious.



“The status quo will be maintained, your friends will be transferred from black sites to what we call Island locations and if you don't cause any trouble then I will even allow them to have visitors.” As he finished he was standing before her, separated by just inches as he smiled down at her. “Oh, and you should probably publicly announce our betrothal when we exit this chamber together, it just wouldn't be proper for me to do so.” Of course he could make the announcement but it would be far more amusing to force her to do just that.

After a few moments of violating her personal space for the sheer pleasure of it Michael took a step away, moving back towards his own seat and glancing to Katie before he pushed the button that unsealed the room, knowing his peers would be returning in a few moments and that the Grand Duchess would need to think quickly.

 

[Chanti]

Katie glanced briefly at each of the men as she entered the room, her eyes flicking over them, assessing. She knew them all. Knew their families, their friends, their roles in the council, their family history. Knew their sins – both public and private. Weekly intelligence briefings with General Moore had seen to that.



She knew they would be her biggest obstacle to securing power – even after officially becoming Empress. Which would be done here – after these men each spoke and confirmed her right to the throne.



Their leaving shocked and terrified her. But no sign of that showed on her face. She watched impassively as chairs scraped on the floor. Men silently filed past her, avoiding her questioning eyes. And then she was left alone with him, and she knew instantly she had made a mistake.



As the door closed behind her, she heard Michel’s shouted demand to enter, but she knew he would not be permitted. This was something they had planned. She did not know what it was yet but suspected she would be dead within the next five minutes. It was a surprising move if so, one she and the General and his council had not expected to happen once the people knew she existed. Especially as they had always been fond of her when she lived in the palace.



Gray-green eyes studied High Lord Kane. She knew the least about him, but she knew he was considered the biggest obstacle to her power, and the biggest danger to her person.



As soon as he spoke she knew she would not die. At least not now. That would be a messy business to clean up, and this man was professional and all too certain of himself. She bristled silently at his condescending tone, but her only response was a tightening of those delectable plush lips and an uplifting of her pert chin. As he slowly advanced on her, prowling like a mighty predator, she did not flinch nor back away. She simply stood still, regarding him defiantly.



But his stab about marriage drew a response, her eyes widening, her lips parting in a shocked gasp. Was it true? Her mind flailed in horror. Yes, probably so. She remembered how utterly cold her father was to her. He would have no problem handing her over to this cruel man. She had heard the reports of whispered rumors of his cruel treatment of the powerless who fell into his grasp. And while she did not want to believe her own father would have consigned her to such a life, she could not help believing it.



Her eyes tracked him across the floor, widening slightly as his body settled onto the throne with lethal grace. He was staking his claim, and she was not foolish enough to doubt his capability. Out of all the councilors, he was the most capable of ruthlessly taking the throne – and the most dangerous to be allowed to take it.



Fury snapped in her eyes when he mentioned Hadad. She had always disliked the woman, and knew the feeling was mutual. Hadad would pay for that treachery – and she already knew how she would do it.



Shock, anger – all reactions he likely wanted from her. But when she saw the pictures of Gage and the sweet couple she had called her parents for the last five years, she could not help giving him the reaction he likely fiercely wanted.



Pain. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she looked at those pictures – the most precious people in her lives. Her mind raced as she listened, grappling with the terrible decision given to her. She wanted desperately to give him what he wanted. Give him the power to the throne and power over her – anything to make life easier for her loved ones.



But Lord Kane had made a terrible mistake. She was not just any teenage girl who would fold under even this terrible pressure. She had been raised from infancy to rule. Had been raised to carefully place emotion aside and decide with a clear head and logical thinking. And she knew enough about Lord Kane to know that her friends and adopted family would suffer terrible lives in his power – no matter what she decided. If she agreed, she would be condemning them to lifetimes of misery. Not only that, she would be condemning herself to a lifetime of misery. And even more importantly, the entire empire would be in the grasp of a man who craved power and had no pity. Millions would suffer.



Horror filled those pretty eyes as she stared silently back at him. Horror and mute fury and a terrible pain. And fear. Fear for herself, fear for her loved ones. This time, when he stalked his way towards her, she could not stop herself from flinching. She gave him that gift. Let her eyes flicker back to the images of those precious human figures in hoods. She forced herself to stand still then. Allowing him to loom over her. Fighting the dread horror in her heart that urged her to flee. Allowing the tears to fill her eyes, trickle down her cheeks.



She gave him that gift. Gave him the impression of being broken. Defeated in silence. She swiped at them angrily as the door slid open with a hushed whisper. Stood with her head down as the others entered. She could not see, but she FELT the curious looks from the other lords. Felt Michel moving to stand behind her, tense and worried. Felt concern all but oozing out of General Moore’s pores as he stood beside her.



“Katie?” His voice was low, so low she could hardly hear it. Her heart throbbed. Gage! How could she save him? What could she do? Her mind grappled with her heart, fighting that terrible battle as the other councilors took their places.

“Continue.” She all but snapped at him, her voice a little louder than his. Breaking. Hurt. Angry. Filled with agony. He was silent for a half second, then looked to the gathered council members.



“Will you accept the High Duchess’s claim for the throne?”



Each of the Lord’s duly assented. Katie felt a surge of fresh tears when she heard Lord Kane’s assent. She waited silently. Head down. Listening as the assenting votes were recorded for posterity.



She mutely accepted their murmured congratulations, sensing the falseness in their tones. Followed, docile, as they led her and her entourage out of the chambers. Down to the press room where a gaggle of excited reporters and cameras waited. She looked over the room, saw the smiling and encouraging face of Serene. Listened as several of the lords spoke. The Grand Duchess had returned home. She had accepted the throne of the Empire. Someone spoke about a triumph tour of the grand cities of the Empire. The General spoke, assuring everyone of an easy and graceful transition.



And then it was her turn to speak, and for the first time since the Council Lords had re-entered the Council Chamber, she looked up. Gone was that broken shadow of a teenage girl. She stepped forward. Defiant. Angry. An uncertain tenseness came over the room as the crowd sensed all was not as well the Lord’s had indicated.



She did not once look at Lord Kane as she faced the crowd. Knowing this scene was being shown across millions of screens at homes across the Empire.



“Five years ago, I fled from the Palace in the night. Angry at the cruelty I saw being inflicted on those with no political power. Unable to stop it myself because I was a child. Unable to bear standing as a silent witness to it any longer. Millions of you have been living quiet lives of desperation and fear. That will not be the case any longer. The Empire shall serve you, not the other way around.”



A surprised murmur filled the room, and she felt the Lord’s shifting uneasily behind her.



“This will be a fight, as we change the status quo. Those who have abused their power will not relinquish it easily. But they WILL relinquish it. And they will begin doing so immediately.”



Now is when she turned, facing Lord Kane. Her eyes defiant and angry. Knowing her loved ones would suffer terribly for what she was about to do. Heartbroken at it, but refusing to bow down to the pressure



“Lord Kane is one of those abusers. He has taken people I love prisoner in order to try to control me. This corruption will no longer be tolerated in the new Empire. Justice – justice for everyone - will prevail. I demand that Lord Kane be arrested immediately and imprisoned and interrogated. I demand he be held accountable for his crimes against myself and the Empire.”



A shocked silence pierced the room. Reporters gazed in open-mouthed shock at the upstart new Empress. None of the guards present moved to enforce her order, struggling with their sudden choice between their Empress and their commander.



But Michel faced no such choice. His hard body shifted, his weapon lifting. Aimed at Lord Kane.



“Lord Kane, you are under arrest by order of Empress Katrin Santilan”.

 

[DomG]

Certain of his victory Michael and the others had followed down to the press room, Lord Kane fully expected to have to announce the engagement himself but it was all going smoothly.

Rage, in a single instant Michael had everything that he had desired. His future bride was broken without him even raising a hand, the threat to the safety of her loved ones would keep her in line for the short term and in the long term he was confident that he could break her will. The throne alone wasn’t enough, he wanted the empress to be collared and kneeling at his feet while he conducted state business.

But then the little bitch opened her mouth and the only thing he could feel, could experience, was rage. Normally he was a man who had tight control over his emotions and what was being displayed... but these were extenuating circumstances. The mask of the detached noble slipped aside and his face was twisted in such fury that the veins in the side of his neck stood out and his fingers gripped his chair hard enough that marks would be found in the leather days later.

If looks could kill then Katie wouldn’t simply be dead, she would have been slowly throttled while forced to look into his eyes. Michel, foolish enough to point a gun at his better, wasn’t far behind in the fury.

The moment the gun was leveled other weapons were drawn though, the security for the council were well armed and enough of them were loyal to Michael to ensure that in an instant there were nearly two dozen guns pointed at Michel, General Moore, and the newly confined empress. With the twitch of a finger Michael could have them all killed and he was confident that it would happen before he was show himself... but he restrained himself for at the last moment the elderly man to his left opened his mouth.

Lord Hawthorne was an old man, well past the point when most would stand aside and let their heir take their seat, the eighty year old had insisted he loved his work far too much. Of course Michael had uncovered details that offered an alternative explanation and used those to ensure he had the man’s support... but as the old man spoke in a voice far more clear than his advancing age would indicate, Michael could have kissed him.

“I’m afraid you can’t do that Empress.” The old man said with a distant smile on his face. “We have voted to confirm you but until your coronation... you don’t actually have the power of the throne.”

From around the table there was a general murmur and nodding from other old men who were closing ranks to protect one of their own, Lord Kane wasn’t beloved but he was one of them and what Katie had said concerned them all.

“Furthermore, your actions since our vote are a matter for concern, making me very glad I chose to impose a delay in all live broadcasts. Your little outburst will never be seen outside this room.” The Lord of Communication looked to Michael then, not ready to take the next steps himself but speaking for the others when he deferred to the man who was leading what had been a soft coup.

And Michael was back to normal, by the time Hawthorne was done speaking he had regained his composure and was ready to continue. There was still a gun pointed at him but with enough of his own guns covering the shooter he was not overly concerned, Katie was the danger and had to be disarmed.

“Emperor Janus.” He said, slowly rising to his feet with his eyes locked on Katie. “Your great great grandfather... fourth in line to the throne but at the age of eight his own father died in a tragic plane accident that also claimed the three ahead of him.” Moving around the table he approached Katie, contemptuous of Michel and the danger he might think he posed. “Now, he was the legal heir and was confirmed right away but because of his age and immaturity the council passed some rules, until young man was ready the council would retain power. I now propose, formally and in a meeting of the council, that we enact the Janus protocol and place the empress under protective custody in her palace.” Turning he looked at General Moore, sneering at the man who would throw away so much.

“It is clear that General Moore has had a negative influence upon our Empress and until that can be broken she is not fit to rule.”

This, this was the moment when he was in the nose danger, the council could turn on him and he would likely be arrested. Long term prison was no threat to him, he would never actually be convicted because he had committed no crimes, but his ambitions could end in that moment. He was spared that concern though as a chorus of affirmative votes sounded behind him.

Then, that dealt with, he finally turned towards the man who held a gun on him, stepping closer and pushing the gun upward. “I admire your devotion to the throne.” He confessed, tone conveying none of the anger he still felt. “You serve the throne and are simply doing your duty, there is no ill will here... I will ensure you are remembered a hero.” Then, looking over the guard captains shoulder, Michael locked eyes with one of his crows and lined twice in rapid succession.

An instant later a gunshot rang out, carefully aimed it struck Michel in the base of the skull, severing his spine before a stray impulse could tighten a trigger finger and killing the man instantly. A painless death, more then Michael would have wanted for him but it would serve.

Lord Kane wasn’t idle though, snatching up the fallen guards gun even as his body crumpled, he struck a savage blow across General Moore’s face, knocking the older man down.

The guns of those loyal to Kane swiftly shifted to cover those whose loyalty was less certain as Michael turned back towards Katie, gun pointed upwards and away from her as the limited press, all state controlled or heavily policed, made a point of not filming what happened. “This was unnecessary.” He breathed, voice a low whisper that trembled with the rage he couldn’t express otherwise. “This could have been done simply, if you were smart then you could have played along until you gave me an heir, wait for me to be far to confident, and then poison me.” Things had gone off track but he was confident again, mocking her.

“Instead you try something like this in public, a stunt that could cause a civil war. How many of your people would die if that happened, what would the other nations of the world do if the Empire were at war with itself?” A deep breath, the anger that had threatened to spread beyond his eyes again was mastered once more.

Reaching up, ignoring the normal decorum or any tradition regarding her station, Michael’s thumb found the train left by one of her tears, tracing it in a way that was tender and entirely at odds with what he desired. “I want you to remember the moment you chose the hard way.” He leaned in to whisper into her ear, lips brushing over her cheek, knowing that any camera that caught the moment could have its footage doctored to help sell the story he needed.

Standing straight he smiled, looking towards several of his men. “Following the failed assassination attempt by General Moore and the heroic death of this guard, I would like the Empress to be taken to her palace for protective custody... I will oversee her safety personally.”

 

[Chanti]

Idealism is the privilege of the young and untested. General Moore was neither young nor untested, but in those last few minutes of his life he saw the last vestiges of his idealism shattered. As a boy he had read stories of how valiant souls battled their entire lives – and triumphed in the end. He had always loved stories like that, where good won and evil failed.



But he saw with heart-breaking clarity that this story would not end that way.



They had been so close. He watched silently as the young girl he had carefully nurtured – and yes – manipulated for years gasped in shocked anger. He felt nothing but pity for her. She was a sweet, brave girl, but not strong enough to take the throne on her own as she had tried to do. He had failed her.



He heard her excited protestations. Watched silently as the courageous Michel fell dead to the floor. The Empress’s screams combining with those of the news media audience. Lifted his chin in silent defiance as the triumphant Kane all but leapt at him with the gun in hand. He expected to be shot – not hit. Pain exploded in his head, and his aged body spun and crumpled to the ground, blood trickling from his temple onto the floor.



Katie was numb with shock as everything fell apart around her, the entire council closing ranks against her. Her bodyguard dead without firing a shot. His three brothers in arms surrendering without a fight. Her mentor and protector falling. The fiery little speech she had worked so hard on in her mind that was to spark the demand for freedom and equality across the empire silenced forever. Her future precarious to the extreme – held to the whim of the Council – her enemies – who had just taken custody of her.



“No! General!” Her plaintive cry rolled across the room, sounding obscenely loud as the stunned press looked on. She made a motion to go to the stricken old man, but then her slender body froze as those evil eyes turned to her. She trembled in futile rage and terror as he stalked towards her. Malevolent triumph pinning her in place. Oh, how she hated him in that moment. Her small hands balled into impotent fists.



“Fuck you. You will NOT win!” She snarled back at him. She jerked her head away from his touch, then spat up into his face in open defiance. Four of Lord Kane’s men stepped forward, forming ranks behind the Empress. Two of them ready to seize her arms and drag her if needed.



In the small audience of the press, Serene, the rising star of the Empire’s voice, flicked her eyes down to her phone and turned off the recording that she had started as soon as General Moore had stepped up onto the podium. She was everyone’s favorite newscaster. Young and elegant and beautiful, with a steady, calming voice and beautiful black eyes. Bright and eager to succeed and – above all – always compliant with the “requests” from the Department of Information. No one – as far as she knew – was aware of the hatred she bore to the Empire – and Lord Kane specifically. When she was a young woman in college, she had fallen in love with her media professor. The love was returned, and a jealously guarded secret love affair exploded between them. Both of them going to extremes to keep the affair secret. If it became known, they would both be cast out of the school. The school frowned on love affairs that could result in blackmail in the future.



But her lover was unlucky enough to be the brother of a traitor. And though he had not spoken to his brother in years, he was swept up by Lord Kane’s forces and tortured for information. Four months after being arrested he was released – a shattered shell of the man she had known. Homeless. Jobless. Frightened of his own shadow. His body broken and scarred and impossibly thin. Less than three weeks after his release he had killed himself.



Serene never said anything. She did not look for him when he was arrested. She did not go to him when he was released. But she watched and worried from afar, her heart aching for that joyous, intelligent man she had once loved. Whether Lord Kane even know of the captured professor, she did not know. But she still laid all the blame of that tragedy at his feet. When she had received the order to interview the runaway duchess she had done so willingly. No one could fault her for obeying orders that came from as far up the chain of command as it did. Evidence of that was her presence in this room here tonight, ordered from the interview chair to be here. But no one had ordered her to record what was happening on her own. With three quick experienced touches, she sent the recording to her personal email, then deleted it from her phone. All with only the briefest of glances down to her phone. Her heart thudding, realizing that what she was doing would not just result in the end of her career if it was discovered. It would result in the end of her life.

 

[DomG]

The Empire or the Emperor?

That was a question that Lord Kane’s father had presented him with when Michael had been just a boy, barely old enough to even start understanding the position his father held or what the world around him looked like.

Which was more important, the Empire or the Emperor?

Even as a child in his first year of formal education Michael had been bright and keen to prove his loyalty to a father he barely knew. He had answered, without hesitation, that the Emperor was the more important.

This had resulted in a beating, no explanation, only pain and a child left on the floor as his father walked away.

A week later the same question had been repeated and this time, still aware of the bruises he carried from the last test, Michael had given the correct answer, the Empire was more important.

His inability to answer the follow up question, a simple why, had earned him another beating.

This carried once a week, for several months until he was finally able to provide an answer that satisfied his father.

Because the Empire could replace the Emperor, they did so every time the man died...

But the Empire has taken the Emperors and the families of the council centuries to build to where it stood that day, to expand its boarders and solidify its position as the preeminent force upon the planet.

The lesson, was a simple one, loyalty to the Empire was more important then loyalty to its figure heads. Perhaps a disloyal sentiment but one that was never repeated aloud after that final question... but a sentiment Michael held close to his heart. He was aware that he was not a kind man, and certainly not what most would call a good man... he was capable of inflicting pain or killing without hesitation, and he felt no misgivings about ordering others to do just that.

It was for the Empire though, better then ten innocent suffer and die then a single dissident go free and spread their poison ideology. The Empire did not need kindness or good natured rules, it needed strong men who had vision and ambition. The last few generations of the ruling dynasty had stagnated, becoming more content over time, and though he desired the throne for endless personal reasons he also knew, at his core, that he was the only man that could restore greatness.

And what a vision he had, he would be Emperor, the founder of a new dynastic line, but rather then turn over his seat on the council to a lower noble he would instead father a second heir... one for the Throne and one for the Kane family holdings... a two pillars of the same family that would ensure stability.


As the general crumpled to the floor Michael simply handed off the gun to a waiting Crow, looking down without any measurable expression on his face. “Try to keep that man alive.” He instructed, not speaking to anyone in particular but knowing he would be heard. “But comatose and under heavy guard... his attempted coup will need a trial.” Already he was planning it out, even as he used a napkin held out to clean his hands. “As for the Empress, I want as many Crows assigned you the palace as needed, the staff will need to be watched closely until they can be replaced. She is to have no communication with the outside world... and not a single hair is to be out of place when I arrive to inspect her.”

The last words, clinical in their choice but holding a hint of menace. Turning from Empress he looked over the assembled media, trying to gauge them all, trying to see disloyalty. After a few moments of silence he smiled, striding fourth and stopping just before Serene. “Serene, how have I not had the pleasure yet?” He asked, turning on the charm that he was capable of when called upon, unaware of her hatred for him. “I trust that we can count on your discretion... you are one of the most beautiful and talented jewels in Lord Hawthorne’s collection. We should sit down together sometime soon, an informal meeting of course, but I’m sure we may be able to arrange for you to conduct the first interview after the coronation and wedding.” No details just yet though anyone would likely be able to see what he intended, instead trying to string along the beauty with a career making moment, likely straight into his bed.

Then, satisfied, and with the Empress removed, Michael made his way up to his personal office within the building, needing a few minutes before he departed. Lifting the phone he simply pressed a single button and was connected right away to the phone of his favorite, the only slave he had permitted to own a phone.

“Don’t speak.” He said as soon as he heard that she was on the other end of the line. “Things have not gone as planned but I will still achieve my desired ends, right now I need you to do something for me. Pack me a training kit, I need a variety of tools but nothing that will leave a mark when the trainee is fully dressed... make sure to include lubricant and a small plug or two, soft leather cuffs rather then metal, and silk cord rather then rope... beyond that I am putting my faith in you. You have five minutes to assemble it and get it to one of the Crows stationed outside the apartment... tell him it must get to the palace and be delivered to whomever is guarding the chambers of the Empress.” A pause, waiting for her to confirm she understood. “I won’t be home for several days, perhaps longer, though I may send for you... it may be beneficial to show off my masterpiece.”

And with that he hung up, quickly moving to dig through his paper work, searching for the betrothal agreement and not setting out for the palace until it was in hand.

 

[Chanti]

At least momentarily defeated, Katie allowed the attending Crows march her off. The ride down the elevator was even more tense and silent than the ride going up. As they stepped out outside of the Council Building into the cold night air, she shivered. Turning and looking up at the gleaming green pillar. Remembering what Heather…was she already suffering?...had said. It looked like a penis. Well, she had gotten herself well and truly fucked in there, so the comparison was an apt one.



“Your Highness”



Another shudder rippled through her body at the cold male voice at her shoulder, verbally prodding her into the waiting black sedan. Wordlessly she slid into the car. Hard male bodies slid in on both sides of her, and she primly folded her hands in her lap as the car sped off into the early morning darkness. The lights of yet another car also full of her guard….no…her captors… filled the inside of her car as it followed closely.



The rain had stopped, but the streets still glistened wetly. As the tires whirred over the wet pavement, she tried to gather her thoughts and assess her options. She could not plan on a rescue. With the General so neatly taken out of the picture, the Leninites would not be able to organize any rescue anytime soon. More than likely the Lenin Council members would be arrested within the next hour, if they were not already captive.



Katie was on her own, and she was already exhausted. But her enemy had given her a solution. One that would take time, but could ultimately be successful. She simply had to allow herself to be defeated. She would have to give him a fight this time – he would not fall for any easy defeat again. But once he believed her to be defeated, she would be given more opportunity to…dispose of him. Even with him gone though, she would have to be very careful. The entire council had united against her tonight. They would need to be dealt with as well. It would be better to make his death look accidental, she decided. And definitely would be better to wait till after the marriage he was assuredly planning had taken place.



Her stomach turned at the thought of him touching her like that. And she thought of Gage. She had signed the poor boy’s death warrant, no doubt. And her parents….



Hot tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away furiously. Grateful none of the men escorting her seemed to have any interest in looking at her. As if they were afraid to touch her – and she knew why. Lord Kane had a reputation as a being violently possessive over anything and everything that he considered his. And right now, much to her dismay, the man seemed to think that SHE belonged to him.



The palace was not far off, a mere fifteen minutes drive on the empty streets. She studied it as it appeared. It had not changed since she had left it in the dead of the night years before.

The fifth emperor had been a fan of ancient architecture, and had ordered the palace built as a perfect imitation of the ancient Montecitorio Palace in the old country of Italy – a country that was now mostly underwater after a series of volcanic eruptions and earthquakes. Through the years the palace – the oldest government buildings still standing in Lahas had been maintained as it had been built. But the interior seemed to change with each passing emperor. When the car slid to a stop and she was ushered into the front entrance, she saw that none of the interior had changed either. It was all modern. Sleek neutral colors of dark brown, green, and white. Lots of white. Most of the greenery came from plants. Plants and flowers hung from ceiling racks. Vines and ivy grew over slender, elegantly shaped trellis’s on the walls. It was like moving through an indoor garden. Fountains and even indoor rivers splashed throughout the massive complex. The first floor was all dedicated to the Emperor’s staff – both governmental as well as maintenance staff for the palace. The second floor was home to the massive security staff as well as the location of various meeting rooms, conference rooms, and living suites for visiting diplomats. The entirety of the third floor was the living area for the Empirical family.



It was there that Katie was silently escorted to. Both herself and her guards ignoring the curious looks from staff. The palace ran 24/7, and though this late – or early – the staff level was light, there were still plenty of people to see her humiliated like this. Marched through the palace to the elevator under heavy guard. Another tense, silent elevator ride later and she was deposited into her old rooms. Those rooms had been cleaned of any sign of her childhood. They were luxurious and scrupulously clean, but any sign that a favored royal child had lived here had long since been removed. Left alone behind a locked door, she wandered through the rooms. A parlor where she could greet guests was the first room. Then a small kitchen where snacks and small meals were kept on order – though the refrigerator was empty now. The suite of rooms she had occupied as a child were those normally reserved for the Empress, ironically. And it was larger than even the wealthy homes that littered the city. She had a fully furnished library with a grand piano, an entertainment room, a theater to watch movies in, a pool, a gym, three bedrooms in case she had guests that did not want to stay on the second floor. Four bathrooms, a sauna, an entire room dedicated to her wardrobe – which currently lay empty. And the conservatory, a room that had always been her favorite. It was there she settled down in a massive basket chair with a fluffy deep cushion.



She cried herself to sleep, tendrils of flame red hair clinging to her wet cheeks.



Everyone has a weakness, and Serene’s weakness was a common one. She was fiercely ambitious. And when the man she hated shared that offer that drew envious looks from nearby competitors, Serene faltered in her resolve to destroy him. He was offering her the literal chance of a lifetime, and she took it with her practiced, professional smile.



“That is kind of you, Lord Kane. I would be delighted, of course. And my loyalty has always been unquestionable, as my record confirms.”



And so it did, up until her rushed interview with the Grand Duchess. But no one could fault her for that – the order had come down from Findley Marten himself – a man several paygrades above her boss, directly under Lord Hawthorne. Serene’s career had – so far – been nothing but brilliant move after brilliant move. She had not had to submit to the couch promotion, sleeping with managers to work her way up. She was beautiful and poised and brilliant - and that had gotten her prized and valued positions in the Voice.



As soon as Lord Kane turned away, her willpower recovered. She would take that offer – no question of it. But she would also destroy him. She had evidence to begin that – but she had to carefully consider how to use it.




Annile Regine hung up the phone, Master’s voice still singing through her blood. It had taken months of intensive – often painful training, but she was attuned to him – body and soul. When he was nearby, every fiber of her body was focused on him. When she heard his voice, her blood surged. Every thought, word, action – was for him. She had no existence outside of him. So of course when he ordered, she obeyed instantly. Without thought of questioning him. There was no sense of jealousy. Quite the contrary, she was delighted for her master and determined to aid him. He had a new toy – and this toy, if her suspicions were correct, was going to benefit Master quite a bit. She would miss him desperately, but she could content herself knowing that Master was pleasing himself and succeeding in his desires.


She hurried about, gathering the requested items and packing them neatly in a pretty flowered silk bag. And she did indeed pack a few pretty surprises for Master, knowing that he would make the decision as to whether to use them or not. Exquisite body jewelry he had given her. Things highly prized by her. Master would know they were a sacrifice to him – not the girl who could be wearing them. Tiny glittering silver chains with gleaming emeralds decorating the nipple clamps at each end. A matching belly chain. Her own set of cuffs – made from the softest calf’s leather. Three sets of belly button piercings; jade, sapphire, and pearl. Two vibrators – one for the clit and one to be slid inside. She included a large variety of lubricants – from sweet smelling and delicious training to fiery punishment oils. And once everything was packed -with thirty seconds to spare – she handed it to one of the ever present Crow’s outside the door with the instructions from Master.



After he had left she went to her bedroom and laid down on the bed, her hand sliding down under her panties as she fantasized about Master. She had permission to play with herself as often as she liked – but she could not cum without permission. Nor would she. She was too well trained a slavegirl for that amateur nonsense.

 

[DomG]

When Michael referred to Annile as his masterpiece he had meant that literally. That was, in fact, the way that he most often referred to her in the company of others. Though fiercely possessive, unwilling to even consider allowing another man to lay even a finger upon her perfect form, he was very keen to show her off.

To display the perfection that he had crafted. Her body was natural, no surgery, not even the slightest tuck or tightening, what little makeup she needed was to highlight what existed rather then conceal or obscure... and yet she was still a work of art that he had crafted.

It had taken time and she had not been the first attempt, the previous failures tossed aside the moment he was certain they could not be what he imagined, but after many attempts he had finally succeeded in her.

HIS masterpiece.

To simply break a slave was easy enough, any man with a strong arm and a bit of cruelty could do that, but the result was often a shattered shell of a person. There was nothing wrong with that, not really as far as Michael was concerned, a shattered slave could still provide some entertainment, but he had wanted more. No second though was ever given to his failures, some were kept for simple amusement while others were tossed aside.

But Annile had not been shattered, cracks had formed and that which was not necessary had been shaved away, until what was left was the model of what every man had dreamed of. She adored him, she practically worshiped him in a selfless manner that never ceased to bring a smile to his face. When he felt the urge to abuse her, and he often did, she never objected and was even beyond reflexively shielding herself from his fury, instead offering her body to him with an instinctive knowledge of where and how he would like to hurt her.

There was a reason that she was the one he kept, the one he had intended to display to the entire Empire as the Imperial courtesan, she was perfect and Michael would not discard perfection. He also felt no urge to try and replicate what he had crafted, perhaps later he might have felt the urge to do so but he was content with his work of art.

The return of the heir to the Empire changed that, if she had simply played along then Michael would have had a lovely trophy wife for official functions and when he was feeling in the mood for her royal cunt... but her defiance had left him with no choice and as he left his office Michael felt a tingle of anticipation. Could he recreate perfection?

Perhaps not but even if he failed he knew he would enjoy trying.



Though he wanted nothing more then to rush to the palace right away and begin his work Michael instead restrained himself, taking time to touch base with the other high lords individually, ensuring that he still had their full support, making sure none were feeling disloyal. It took time, hours in fact as some insisted on having drinks or making small talk before they got to business. Most were compliant easily enough, two had to be reminded of what he had on them and their families... and every second spent felt like an eternity.

When he eventually was able to leave Michael was quite buzzed, not properly drunk but far from sober. On one level, he knew he should sober up, but on another he didn’t want to waste even a single instant, he wanted to put that bitch in her place. In time she would be kneeling at his feet with a chain around her neck while his masterpiece sat in his lap, enjoying the comforts that a would be Empress was tossing aside.


The drive felt as though it took nearly as long as the meetings, Michael tried to keep himself occupied by reviewing the betrothal contract, reading it over carefully though he knew it was iron clad. So long as Katie drew breath she was to marry him and there was no legal opening for her to make an objection... without the support of the council she could not overturn a decree of the previous Emperor, her father, and Michael was certain that she would find no support.

Arriving at the palace he climbed from the car, looking up at the massive structure with fresh eyes. It was a beautiful recreation of classical architecture and would do, for the time being, but with his goal so close at hand Michael couldn’t help but imagine a new palace, more fitting to his personal tastes.

From the moment he entered he was flanked by his Crows, three of them speaking at once and all giving updates on what had occurred since his soft coup had seen the empress under house arrest hours before.

Triage, triage, triage. It was impossible to take it all in at once so Michael listened for key words, building a picture from what he could process and trusting in his most loyal men to handle the details he couldn’t. “Schedule staff interviews and background checks, make sure that they are loyal and come from families that are loyal as well, if a grandparent or grandchild is involved in anything serious then I want them to disappear. Replace all the palace guards with Crows and members of the regular police that are considered candidates for the Crow program, I don’t care if you need to pull from other regions of the empire to make sure it happens, and have them dress as members of the palace guards so nothing appears out of the ordinary. Have the entire property swept, explosive, drugs, any listening devices of the like... and while you are at it have one of the guest quarters in the suite of our soon to empress prepped for myself and my masterpiece, she will be joining me soon.” Each of the Crows flanking him nodded and broke off, none of them told to handle one task in particular but the three knowing better then to waste time when their commander was in a mood.

And that mood did not improve as he made his way through the palace, familiar with the layout after several years filled with visits on a nearly daily occurrence. Walking the halls reminded him of the work he had put in, his ambition, and how close a fucking slip of a girl had come to spoiling it. If anything his mood grew worse as the many drinks continued to work into his system, strong scotch and bourbon working their magic, and when he finally reached the outer doors of the Empress’s suites, he was ready to rip the head off anyone who looked at him funny. Snatching the offered bag from the hands of one of the two Crows guarding the door Michael took a moment to open it, examining what was inside and smiling softly, recognizing the personal value of the items being offered. Simple things to him, though prohibitively expensive to the vast majority he had commissioned their crafting without a second thought and his last remaining slave gave them away without hesitation... the girl deserved some small reward. “One of you will go get Annile and bring her here.” He said as he used and offered key to open the doors. “Do not delay, do not let anything slow you down.” No warning about touching her was given, it was common knowledge that he had gelded a man for simply offering her a hand after she had stumbled with a broken heel one day.

Then, no further thoughts about the outside world, Michael entered the suite, pulling the door shut behind him and began to stalk through the rooms for his bride to be.

 

[Chanti]

She trotted after her father, her tiny little five year old legs having to work three times as hard as his much taller ones as he strode quickly through the palace.



“Your tutor speaks well of your work, Katrin. I am pleased. She tells me you are already reading.”



“Yes, Father. Thank you.”



Even from his five year old daughter, the Emperor required formal respect. But even he saw the bright flash of pleasure spark in the little girl’s eyes at her father’s praise. Time with him was a rare thing in her little world. Praise from him even rarer.



They entered the throne room and the Emperor paused, looking down at his only child as she came to his side, panting a bit as she looked around curiously. It was her first time here in this seat of power.



“It is time you begin learning to lead, Katrin. And today we will deal with your first – and probably most important, lesson.”



She looked up at him with her guileless, innocent green eyes.



“For a ruler, is it better to be loved or feared?” He questioned her with a smile.



She spoke without thought. “To be loved, Father.”



“Explain your answer. Why is it better to be loved?”



Her answer was simple and childlike. “Because people will want to obey you to please you.”



“And you are certain of that?”



She nodded happily. “I love you, and I want to obey you to please you.”



He smiled, touching her cheek. “That is different. That is a father and daughter. As a ruler though, it is better for me to be loved than feared?”



She stood firm. “Yes, Father.”



“Very well then. Let us test your theory. Who loves you the most, besides me?”



“Vanna, Father.”



His lip curled in distaste, despite the expected response. Vanna was a slave in her early 20s, forced into slavery as a consequence of her father’s debt and employed as his daughter’s nurse since her birth. When the Empress had died soon after childbirth, the slave had become the maternal figure in his daughter’s life. While he did not doubt the young woman’s affection for the child, he detested the idea of the little girl growing so close to a slave.



“You think Vanna would be so eager to obey you then?”



“Oh yes, Father. Vanna loves me.”



“How do you think you can make her love you more?” He carefully led his naïve little one along the path to the inevitable outcome he anticipated – and wanted. It was time for the slave woman to be out of his child’s life. He waited silently as she considered thoughtfully.



“I think she would like to be free, Father.”



He nodded soberly, hiding his satisfaction.



“But she might leave you.”



“Oh no, Father! She loves me, she would stay.”



“Very well. Let us summon her, and you can give her your gift of freedom.”



The slave was bidden to the throne room, and she came fearful and trembling until she saw the bright smile on her little charge’s face. Knowing the child’s kind heart she relaxed, kneeling gracefully before the Emperor. She was pretty, but not pretty enough for his standards so she had never learned to fear him like other slave girls in the palace.



“Vanna, Father said you can be free!” The little grand duchess danced with happiness, throwing her arms around her nurse’s shoulders and raining little kisses on her cheeks.



Struck, the slave looked at the Emperor who nodded in apparent boredom. “It is so, Vanna. You are free to do as you please. Will you stay here with Katrin or would you prefer to go?”



As the slave cried with joy, he waited again. Already knowing her response. Vanna’s free mother was very ill, and needed her only daughter desperately. More so than the little Grand Duchess needed her slave-nurse.



The newly freed slave left sobbing, listening to the unhappy wails of the little one she had cared for so tenderly for five years. But she still left.


He held his crying daughter, petting and comforting her. But he did not allow her to grieve for long before he summoned one of his own slaves. The girl came to them, sinking down to prostrate herself on her face before them. Waiting for his command.



“Dalya, light a fire in the hearth.”



The slave obeyed instantly, though never once had she been given so odd a command. Bed slaves did not do common housekeeping chores. Soon the fire was blazing brightly in the great hearth. The emperor patted his daughter’s arm, making her look up. Nodding towards the slave waiting by the fire. Only when the child’s attention was turned to the slave did he give his next command.



“Dalya, put your arm in the fire until I tell you to take it out. If you fail me, I will have you imprisoned in a cell with at least a half dozen rats. Fed and watered enough to keep you barely alive – for years.”



The slave stared in shock, then tears filled her eyes. But she did not complain, did not beg. She simply obeyed, turning and thrusting her slender arm into the fire. Her screams of agony melded with the frightened screams of the little duchess. In a panic, the child clawed at her father’s chest.



“Please, Father! Please tell her to take it out! Please!”



“Do you understand that fear inspires greater obedience than love now, Katrin?” His voice was calm, objective. The smell of burning meat filled the room.



“Oh yes, Father! Please let her take her arm out!”



He forced the slave to keep her arm in the fire for another five seconds - an eternity to both the slave and the child - before permitting her to withdraw it. Calling for a slave handler as the slave crumpled to the floor, moaning in agony, barely conscious.



The poor girl’s screams rang in Katie’s ears when she jerked awake. Curled up in that big soft chair, listening to the sounds of trickling water from the various little waterfalls in the room, smelling the flowers, her breath frozen in terror from that awful dream.



Katie had never forgotten that horrible lesson. But she did not learn it as her father had hoped she would. He was doomed to be disappointed in his daughter – she had never learned her lessons as intended. Instead of learning to make others fear her, she had learned to fear HIM.



The sound of the footsteps moving through her rooms with sharp precision brought her to her feet in a sudden panic.



No, it wasn’t her father. It was far, far worse. She smoothed her hands over her rumpled, slept in clothes. Ran shaky fingers through her hair that had fallen loose in her restless sleep. Then rather than waiting for him like cornered prey, she went looking for him in return. Chin up, her eyes bold and defiant. She found him in the hallway leading to the conservatory. He looked lethal as he stalked towards her, and her confidence wavered. But she carefully hid that, standing straight and firm. Small round face glaring out at him from the surrounding riot of crimson hair tumbling over her small shoulders. Her freckles stood out on her pale skin.



“I did not give you permission to enter my rooms, Lord Kane.” Her voice was frosty, contempt dripping off her tongue.



___________________________________________



Findley Marten sat on at the edge of his mistress’s rooftop pool, bare legs dangling in the water. Taking another long gulp of the whiskey bottle clutched in his hand, he stared broodingly into the water.



It was over.



The report from the reporter, Serene, had confirmed the forboding thoughts he had been struggling with all day. Though the Voice would never tell the whole story that Serene had told her editor, Marten still knew it. And he knew that right now he was living on borrowed time. His signature was on too many documents – the most damning one the order for Serene to interview the newly discovered Grand Duchess. The fact there was nothing illegal in requiring the interview did not mean that Lord Kane’s damned Crows would not be along any second to pick him up and drag him to one of their horrifying dungeons to be “questioned”.



No, Findley was a dead man drinking. But he would go out like a man, not a sniveling rat waiting to be taken. He assumed his many assets would be seized by the Empire, so he had left his mistress plenty of cash to live comfortably after he was gone, hiding it where only she was likely to find it. His wife….his lips curled in a sneer. That bitch could get fucked. He hoped literally – because he damned sure hadn’t gotten to fuck her in years. His children were grown and all successful and would hopefully ride this storm out safely. If not…well…they had not bothered to have a relationship with their father for years.



Lifting the bottle, he took another long drink. Letting the fire flow down his throat and pool in his belly.



Fuck.



Downstairs he heard male voices shouting, the heavy wooden front door splintering under a sudden booming assault. His mistress screaming. He took another drink before lifting his other hand. Putting the barrel of the gun to his temple and pulling the trigger.



His last thought was an obscenity.



Fuck.

_____________________________________________________________



Agar Joren did not choose suicide. He chose to vanish. Though he was not aware of one of the Leninite Council turning traitor, he rightly assumed that with the Empress in custody of the Council, Kane would be gunning for the Leninites. He suspected his father was either dead or would wish he were soon. Within minutes of the soft coup he received a phone call from one of his contacts. Five minutes after that call Agar Joren stepped out of his apartment, carrying only a small black leather bag. Knowing every step he took was under the watchful eye of surveillance cameras, he wasted no time making his way to the subway, taking the train to the last stop on the border of the city. From there the cameras watched him pass through the gates, though a later review of the files that day revealed he did not use his own identification, instead using a false ID under the name of Robert Witcham.



Outside of the city, Robert Witcham disappeared along with the living body of Agar Joren.



But Joren did not plan on being gone long. He would return with money and a plan in his own good time. His father had been wrong. He was loyal to his father, but that had not been the reason for his traitorous activities against the Empire. The reason had been love. Agar Joren was quietly – no, silently – in love with the pretty Grand Duchess.



He was too skilled at hiding his emotions and thoughts for anyone to be aware of the deep love he held for the girl. He was not naïve – he had no place at her side. But his love was a pure one – the chivalric love of an ancient, long-dead knight who worshipped his lady-love from afar. And he wanted the filthy hands of Michael Kane nowhere near the object of his adoration.



No, Lord Kane would need to be dealt with – and swiftly. Joren just needed time to prepare. To organize the chess pieces he needed.

____________________________________________________________

Annile lay sprawled out in her bed, her perfect ass writhing on silk sheets, two fingers plunging in and out of her drooling cunt. But when her phone ring she answered immediately, her breathy voice betraying her state of arousal. The phone number was known only to Master and his men.

It was not Master and she was immediately disappointed, wishing it was his voice. But she was comforted when she was told to prepare herself. Master had summoned her.

Her delight could not be contained. Her smile bright and eager as she flew from her bed. Taking a fast shower. Her cunt aching for him as she swiftly packed a few items and some clothes.



As she prepared she wondered about this girl of her Master’s. She had seen the Grand Duchess interviewed on tv earlier, and she also know of her Master’s ambitions. Clearly, the Grand Duchess – now unofficial empress – was in the way of Master’s plans and would need to be brought to heel. Annile wanted to be a part of that, to help Master.



When the Crow arrived for her, Annile was ready and waiting. As the car sped through the empty early morning streets, she shamelessly spread her legs and continued playing with her naked cunt. Master liked her wet and needy for him.


_________________________________________________________________


Next to Lord Kane, Lord Kennedy Walls was the most powerful Lord on the Empirical Council. Holding the purse strings of the powerful and mighty empire had made him a man wealthy beyond imagination. Even wealthier than Lord Kane. But somehow the other man retained an edge of power over Lord Walls, and Walls bitterly resented it.

But his wife, Dora Walls, resented it even more. Lesser women would have pounced on their husband as soon as he walked in the door, hounding him about lost chances and failures. But Dora was wiser than that. She met her husband with a kiss on the cheek, a pristine glass of obscenely expensive whiskey, and a massage on his stiff shoulders.

“I heard Lord Kane took custody of our lost duchess, Kennedy.” She opened the gate, letting loose her husband’s displeasure.

“Yes, damn him.” Lord Walls was an old man, twenty years older than his forty-two year old wife. And his withered frame shook under the anger and stress. “And I could do nothing! If we had allowed her to have the bastard arrested, we would have been left with a thoughtless girl intent on ruining everything. The empire would never survive her on the throne. We had no choice but let Kane have her. Nothing will stop that bastard now, though.”

“It’s a shame, Kennedy.” Her voice was soothing. Her hands even more so. Gently kneading away at the painful, bunched muscle in his shoulder. “But his new acquisition has two edges. She can grant him power, yes. But she can also destroy him.”

Kenney Walls seized his wife’s statement like a drowning man, clinging to it.

“How can she destroy him? She is barely more than a child.”

“Oh Kennedy…” She stopped her ministrations, sliding down onto the couch next to him. Cuddling close, smiling up into his worried face.


“I have been considering it ever since I heard what happened. Everyone now knows that she is in his way…and his custody. If something were to happen to her, if she were to be murdered, perhaps…..everyone would blame him. His power would never survive that suspicion. ”


Her smile grew wider when her startled husband stared at her, then started laughing.


“You are a devious, wicked creature, Dora. I love that about you.”


She giggled. “Let me tend to it, Kennedy. Anyone on the Council would be suspect. I don’t want you involved in any way when it comes time to elect someone new for the seat of the Emperor.”

 

[DomG]

Peter didn’t have a last name, he had been born the son of a minor noble and a slave, a bastard who would inherit no money and could claim no title. When he was born his father had not registered him as a slave, the only kindness permitted was when he turned five and was sent to a boarding school, a place where a man with ambition and intelligence might make the connections that would allow them to thrive. Peter had both quantities in abundance but rumors of his heritage kept him from making the sort of friends that would allow him to capitalize and with no other options, upon graduation he had entered the Law Enforcement Academy.



At his graduation, when his classmates had been congratulated by their families there had been no one there to congratulate him and he received no formal assignment, only a card with an address and a time to arrive that very night. Not knowing what to expect he found Michael Kane waiting for him when he arrived… and an opportunity to make a life for himself without the help of others. He had been watched during his time at the academy, impressed the instructors and his name had been passed up. Eventually people looked into his background, a little digging uncovered the truth of his life…

Like most recruited into the Crows Peter was a man who could have excelled if he had the same opportunities that so many others took for granted, they were the bastard sons of noble families, poor children who had grown up on the streets, the spawn of the middle class who stood no chance of ever possessing what they saw their social betters toss aside without a thought. Being a Crow offered each of them a future, a chance to advance themselves, money and power over all but the most elite of the Empire… and that night they would be exercising that power.



“Fast and loud.” Peter whispered to the half dozen men of the strike team that had been assembled, standing just out sight of the cameras that covered the place where their target resided. “The target and his mistress are alone, she is considered expendable but the target needs to be taken alive, Lord Kane has questions.” The others all nodded, grunting their understanding, Lord Kane was the reason they lived lives that most could only dream of, they were all willing to kill for him, and eager to do far more to see their status advance. Other operations were being carried out at that moment, they were all aware, and they knew the best way to stand out would be to complete their mission quickly and efficiently.



At a signal from Peter they advanced, running with their weapons drawn and the windows covered. When the rest of the team was about ten meters from the door two of them broke away, sprinting forward and swiftly slapping a length of det cord to the door, both stepping aside for cover an instant before it blew the door inward.



The screaming mistress was silenced with a burst of rounds from Peter’s rifle but the team still heard a heavy caliber gunshot from above. In that instant the team knew they had failed but they still collected the body and returned to file a report. Lord Kane would be displeased, but if they tried to conceal what had happened then it would go far worse.



---------------------------------------------------------------

Miguel Findley did had a last name but what he did not have was a future. He was not a crow, strictly speaking he was not law enforcement though he did work under the purview of Interior Security. His job was simple, when the algorithms built into the security camera’s software tagged a person, he was a part of the human element that existed to double check and confirm before dispatching standard Law Enforcement or a team of Crows to handle it directly.

It had been a long day for him, the night before he had hit it off with a girl who had just moved in next to his apartment and his normal routine had turned into a long night of drinking and making love. Perhaps he should have called in sick after not getting a lot of sleep but he hadn’t wanted to miss out on a day’s pay, figuring that enough coffee would keep him awake.

And the coffee did the trick, it kept him awake but it had a bit of an unforeseen impact, he had run to the bathroom several times during the day as cup after cup of strong coffee was consumed. Towards the end of his shift he made a simple mistake, forgetting to log himself out of the monitoring software when he went to the bathroom… it was something that happened from time to time and usually it just resulted in a write up when a person of interest was not reviewed right away, but while he was away from his desk an alert for Agar Joren appeared on his screen and went unreviewed for three and a half minutes.

Not a lot of time in the grand scheme of things, a bathroom trip, a cup of water from the cooler, and a few seconds exchanging pleasantries with the supervisor from the oncoming shift… but that was enough time for the alert to be out of date. Crows were dispatched to the last known location but Agar was gone by then…



Miguel never made it home that night, a black bag pulled over his head as he entered his apartment building… a single moments inattention cost him his life.



---------------------------------------------------------------





In the years that Katie had been living on the streets Michael had become close with the Emperor, still seeking to find a way to the throne it seemed the best option was to become close with the man who currently held the throne and find an opportunity or some information that might help. At first it had been a possibility that the Duchess would found and brought home, but as time went on it became increasingly apparent that she wouldn’t be returning (until she had), and so a bond with the Emperor an expedient way to keep his ambitions on track. It wasn’t a friendship though, Lord Kane knew better then to consider the Emperor a friend, just as he knew better then to let the man ever set eyes on Annile… his appetites were well known even in his advancing age and even for an Emperor, Michael Kane would not share his favorite.



During his time with the Emperor they often drank, Michael always being cautious to ensure he was never too drunk and always eager to ensure the Emperor drank to excess, to loosen his lips and allow secrets to spill out. A few months before, while the Emperor still lived but his health failed, Lord Kane had tried to calculate how much money he had spent on prohibitively expensive liquor, giving up once the calculations exceeded a million dollars. It had all been worth it though, because the same drinking that gave Michael insight into the way the Emperor had raised his daughter also was what killed the man. With the tight security it would have been nearly impossible to sneak a subtle poison into the food or drink of the most powerful man in the Empire, but when consumed in excess for years… liver disease had done the job perfectly and Michael’s hands were quite clean.



Who would suspect that he killed the Emperor by encouraging him to drink far too much? The other high lords would no doubt be looking into the death to make sure nothing out of place had occurred… even with the information, even with the blackmail material and the promises made, Michael knew others would want to find a way to take the throne for themselves… and if they learned what he had planned they would grow desperate to stop him, assuming they weren’t already.

Michael Kane on the throne, a proxy holding his seat on the council until he had a bastard son to make the heir of the Lordship, an Emperor who also had a guaranteed vote on the council… perfect stability.

As he moved through the chambers of the Duchess, soon to be Empress, he reflected upon the efforts that had brought him to this point, all the work that he put into reaching this point… he would enjoy this stage the most.

During the seven year absence Michael had spent a lot of time in these chambers, a place the Emperor never went, going over it in person to try and find some clue about where the Duchess might have run too, none was ever found but he had come to know the layout as intimately as he knew his own penthouse in the capital city. Though he was being thorough in his search he made his way steadily towards the private sleeping chambers of the Empress to be, suspecting she would be there, and smiling in pleasure when she stepped out. From a glimpse he could guess that she had just woken up, likely going straight to bed after the escort home which meant she would not have had much time to try and plot what might come next.



“I would suggest you choose your next words very carefully.” He spoke softly, approaching her without any break in his stride, not showing a hint of unease at the challenge. “The palace is now under my control, you are under my control, and by extension… the Empire will soon be under my control.” He doubted she was hearing anything she didn’t already know but was enjoying spelling it out to her, was enjoying the power that he had over her in that moment.

Standing toe to toe with her, looking down with a slight smile on his face, his absolute confidence to the point of cockiness being rather obvious. The bag was set down carefully, not wanting to damage or spill anything within. Then, both hands free, Michael began to unbutton his shirt. The body revealed was sculpted, on a council filled with aging men who had gone soft Michael prided himself on his youth, his drive, the hunger… all of which embodied in a lot of hard work in the gym. The one thing that would stand out though was a single tattoo, a fasces, a bundle of rods with the head of an axe projecting from it with simple script beneath it.



Ante Imperator Imperii, latin for Empire before Emperor below a historical symbol for Fascism. Under the reign of her father he had gone to great lengths to hide that tattoo, including a rather painstaking application of psudeo skin over it should there ever be a possibility that someone beyond a select few servants or slaves would see him. The tattoo could have meant his death but now, now it would become a symbol for the Empire Reborn.



“There are two ways we can do this.” He explained as the shirt was slipped off and allowed to fall to the floor, exposing his body and the tattoo as a way to intimidate her, with his strength and the boldness of how he had marked his own flesh. “You can submit to what comes, the suffering will be short lived and soon replaced with pleasure, or you can fight me, you will suffer far more before you enjoy the pleasures I can offer.” A moments pause, a shrug, his eyes roaming over her body again as though he was able to violate her with his gaze alone. “I admit, it will be a lot more fun if you fight me but you will be my bride before very long so an opportunity for mercy seems appropriate.”


A reminder, the fate that lay in store for her. “Now… be a good girl and remove your clothing, I need to know what I will be working with.” A simple test, one chance to do things the easy way.

 

[Chanti]

The education of a future empress is different than that of even a noble child. Katie was bred and trained for conflict, diplomacy, negotiating, and sheer dominance of will. Even after running away from home, the General had still worked hard to continue her education to be the future leader of the world.



Most women would have submitted or fled in the face of his barely restrained aggression. Katie held her ground. Physically taking possession of the ground she stood on by spreading her legs slightly, bracing her knees, lifting her chin in open defiance. She refused to permit a trace of fear to show to her enemy, instead focusing on presenting the image of a power player – a beautiful, feminine authority figure in black silk trousers and lacy, silky gray camisole – the black blazer long since discarded. But the knowledge of her vulnerability flickered at the edges of her iron control. He held all the cards right now – and what was worse, he knew it. She had no bargaining room – but it was her nature and training to negotiate for better terms.



She saw the bag and immediately dismissed it. Yes, she was curious about what was in it – but the bag was secondary right now. The tattoo though….that startled her. She instantly translated the ancient Latin – the language considered by many educators to be the first human language, though some insisted it was instead ancient Greek. Katie knew both. She knew precisely what that phrase meant, and when combined with the fasces it left her wondering – had this man killed her father? It was a terrifying, new thought. Though danger always surrounded an emperor or empress, the protection they received was equally ever present – and exceedingly powerful. Would he do the same to her? She dismissed the thought almost instantly – if he wanted her dead, she would already be so. But despite her abrupt dismissal of the idea, it still lurked deep in her mind, introducing a new doubt she had never once considered.



Would she survive this?



She must. And she made her plans speedily. First, she needed to try to shake him up. Likely, he expected fear or submission. Instead, she gave him scorn. Curling up her lip in contempt, she shook her head. “Is that the only way you can get a woman, Lord Kane?” Condescension dripped off his title. “Rape a free woman or slave girl? I had heard that of you, but doubted it. Until now.”



She made no move to remove her clothes. Instead, she opened negotiations from a point of power that did not exist.



“Release my friends – all of them – and I will marry you willingly and submit to your…demands.” It was clear she loathed the idea of those demands. She tilted her chin up even further. Eyes boldly meeting his. “Refuse, and I will fight you every inch of the way.”

 

[DomG]

It was a pity that they were at odds with each other because Michael truly suspected that the Grand Duchess might be one of the few people that could actually understand him. True, they were as different as could be but they had both come from such similar backgrounds, no real mother to speak of in their life, fathers who would be considered abusive by just about any rational standard, and pressures upon them that the average person couldn’t comprehend. Of course there were differences in how they were raised, she had the private tutors while he was at the most exclusive schools available only to the top of the social structure, her father’s abuse had been psychological and emotional while his own father had enjoyed beating him harshly for any possible failing…



His interests in her existed in the first place because of the throne, she was his way to have everything he desired… but if the throne were gone then it was likely that he would still want to possess her, to control her and shape her into the perfect bride. Perhaps it was his fucked up childhood, or maybe it was just something intrinsic to who he was… but the desire to possess and dominate the grand duchess was something akin to love in his mind.



They were the elite, part of the next generation that would shape the empire, she had run away and yet she had come back, though not a man who believed in a higher power even Michael might have called it destiny or perhaps fate.



Her words and lack of action brought a flash of anger to his eyes but only for a moment, for it was replaced almost immediately be something akin to delight. He had expected her to give in… or at most refuse to do so while trembling in fear but this was something unexpected. The strength on display, the fact that she tried to negotiate when she had nothing, it brought a smile to his face. It wasn’t just that she was challenging him and giving him an excuse to make things as unpleasant as possible for her… it was evidence that she was everything that an Empress should be.



He would be the Emperor, he would rule with something akin to absolute power, she would submit to him… but she would also serve to temper his worst instincts. Katie would be no less capable then he was and he couldn’t find the words to express how much that knowledge pleased him.



Her behavior pleased him enough that he didn’t even correct her, didn’t point out that his reputation was a bit inflated, that most of the free women he took into his bed went along willingly and while they would leave quite sore and exhausted they were also no worse for wear.



“You don’t have any room to negotiate.” He pointed out, still smiling as he took a step towards her. “The fact that they are all still breathing after your earlier defiance should be considered enough of a gift.” Another step, the distance between them closing, his eyes locked on hers as he continued to speak. “Now, a simple counter offer, you can strip right now and I will have the pretty one brought to the palace, I will even permit you to see her on occasion while she stays here and she can be your maid of honor at our wedding… if you fail to comply then I will have your boyfriend lashed until his skin hangs from his back in strips and then send him to a labor camp.”



His own education hadn’t involved much negotiation, at least not in the traditional sense, being in charge of the secret police meant you could always find leverage and ensure that you had all the cards when it came time to argue over terms…

In spite of his words, in spite of his smile, his body language did display something else, flexing fingers, and flexed arms... if she refused again then he would not hesitate to rip away her clothing with his bare hands, already he was giving her far more leeway then a lesser woman would receive... and that was simply because she impressed him.

 

[Chanti]

It had been the most awkward conversation of her admittedly short life. The “your body and sex” talk – held between a father-figure general and an upstart young empress to be.



“Sex among most of the powerful people in the world is a tool. Sometimes a weapon. Sometimes a commodity. Sometimes a point of negotiation. Rarely is it about love – don’t get me wrong. It should be. But it is not. You will find that in general powerful men have harder and more frequent sex. The more powerful the man, the harder and more frequent the sex is. For powerful women this is not the case – their level of power generally has no bearing on their sexuality. This may not be a comfortable thing for you to consider – but in the future there may come a time when you MUST consider it.”



That conversation had not happened very long ago at all – and Katie remembered how much she vehemently disagreed with the general.



And yet here she was. Bargaining for lives with her sexuality. Despite the rage and humiliation flooding her veins, she forced herself to think logically and quickly. Just as she had been trained to do. Her instinct was of course to refuse. To force his hand. Intuitively, she understood – or thought she understood – that while he may enjoy her defiance, ultimately he wanted her submission. Everything in her wanted to deny him that. But instead of giving in to that impulse, she coldly looked at the pros and cons.



And yet, what would that earn? A moments satisfaction for her. Agony for Gabe. And her clothes would be removed by Lord Kane anyway.



However if she removed them herself, she earned a reprieve for Gabe and contact with Heather that would comfort and possibly aid her.



On the flip side, she knew once she allowed her friends to be used as a weapon against her, it would be one that continued to be wielded against her – again and again. And with Heather here, what would stop him from abusing her as well? She needed to try to protect Heather, and in the process lay down some subtle framework that he likely did not intend.



“Very well, on condition that you agree not to lay a finger on Heather and to keep her safe from your men as well. If she is to be my companion as you say it is my responsibility to keep her safe – especially from you.” Frosty barbs dripped from her tongue.



His counter offer made her hesitate only the briefest of moments. As much as she adored Heather, Heather was definitely a bit on the slutty side. But no, Heather would never betray her by going willingly into this man’s arms. Finally she tightened her lips. Dismay twisting her stomach as she realized what she was going to have to do.



“Very well then, I agree. No harm to Gabe, and Heather comes to stay here in the palace, safe from assault.”



She took a deep breath. Firm young breasts lifting underneath the silken camisole. It sounded like such a simple thing. Take her clothes off. But every cell in her body recoiled at the idea of it. She wanted to vomit at the thought of standing naked in front of him. She hated him like she had never hated another. Hated him even worse than she had hated her father. Her father had not achieved victory over her. This bastard had.



But the decision had been made. Forcing her to stare boldly at him, her normally gentle eyes stormy with emotions - hatred, rage, and…yes….shame. Shame she could not help but feel, so powerful it roared in her ears. But she refused to allow him the satisfaction of cowing before him. Even in her surrender to him in this small matter, every inch of her was proud. Small hands reached down to the hem of the camisole, lifting the silk cloth over her head. Instead of letting it fall to the ground, she folded it neatly and set it on a nearby hallway table. Using those precious few seconds to re-gather her courage for the next move.



Somehow, she managed to look dignified as she removed the creamy white lacy bra. Reaching behind her and unfastening the clasp, slipping it off her sun-kissed shoulders speckled with freckles that swept down her chest to gently sprinkle the tops of her breasts. Firm young breasts of creamy flesh, curving upwards in teenage defiance of gravity. Dusky rose colored nipples hardening as the air kissed them, perching precariously on the upturned tips. Her cheeks darkened – and for the first time her eyes dropped from his. But almost instantly she realized it and jerked them back up to his. Refusing to give in – forcing herself to look him in the eye. Hoping against hope to spark some sense of shame in him.



Next were the black trousers. She made no ceremony of the thing. Simply unfastened them and slid them down her long slender legs, dragging her cream colored silk panties with them.



As was customary with the women of the empire, Katie kept her entire body hairless. She stood before him, eyes wet with unshed tears of rage and humiliation. Chin lifted in defiance, slender shoulders back. Teenage tits thrust out, the gentle swell of her hips, the smooth soft flesh of her cunt peeking shyly out at him from the inviting gap between the tops of her naked thighs.

​

 

[DomG]

Her request when it came to her friend Heather was met with a nod and a slight tightening of his jaw when she tried to dig him a little with a barb. The young woman would be lucky to have a man of his status take interest in her... and while he hadn’t been planning anything before her comment changed that. Michael saw no reason to keep his word on that little agreement, once he had what he wanted and Katie was otherwise occupied he would do as he wished. Already the thought of filming the conquest of her friend was running through his head, bind Katie to a chair and bring her to the edge while she was forced to watch, then whisper in her ear that it wouldn’t have happened if she has just watched her tongue. There was always a way to teach a lesson and Michael knew he would enjoy that one...



Such thoughts were interrupted though as she started to strip away her clothing, his eyes locked on hers the entire time, smirking for the moment that she looked away. If she thought that she was being defiant then she was delusional, the strength displayed was nearly as arousing as he flesh and the slight crack exposed when she looked down only made her more appealing. There was strength, but there was also vulnerability, and he would enjoy both of them in great measure.



It was only when the last scrap of clothing was removed that he looked down over her body, a slow and appraising gaze that took in every inch of her. With unhurried grace he moved around behind her, taking in the smooth expanse of her back and the curves of her ass. No step towards her was made though and soon Michael stood before the Grand Duchess again, his eyes locked on hers.



“Of compact grain, homogeneous, crystalline, reminiscent of sugar.” He whispered, the words written by Michelangelo regarding the marble of Mount Altissimo coming to mind. Then, knowing that her education was extensive but that she might not understand the comment he spoke again, a little louder. “Perfection...”



A single step towards her, she was not close enough that he could reach out and touch her and yet he didn’t make a single move to do so for several long seconds. Eventually he raised a hand, reaching for her, as though to delicately brush a finger over her lips when...



The sound of a door opening, heels clicking, two pairs with one being distinctly higher then the other. The rapture that had been spelled out on his face was replaced by a moments annoyance as he turned to see who had dared to interrupt this one perfect moment.



And there she was, Annile, his masterpiece just like he had commanded, the anger vanishing almost right away when Michael saw her and who was with her. Slightly shorter in stature then Annile, a compact body dressed in the conservative fashion of a middle school librarian, a female Crow that he recognized, Sue Rui... which only heightened his delight.



What most citizens of the Empire didn’t know was that nearly one out of every five Crows were actually women, often assigned to undercover work, and when Miss Rui (the daughter of Chinese refugees who had fled a civil was shortly before she was born) had graduated in the top five of her class two years before, Michael had taken notice. Not for sexual reasons, though he had considered taking her to bed, but because all tests had indicated that she was intelligent, ambitious, and fiercely loyal.



Miss Rui didn’t blink at the situation before her, for a moment her eyes flicked from the naked Grand Duchess to the tattoo on the chest of her highest superior... but a moment later she snapped to attention and her fist crashed against her chest in a salute.



Michael hardly noticed the salute, instead he was occupied pulling Annile into a tight embrace, his lips crashing against hers in a shameless display of passion and dominance before, several long seconds later, he broke the kiss and turned back to Katie.



“Grand Duchess, allow me to introduce miss Sue Rui, a Crow with a promising career ahead of her who is currently undercover at a school in the capitol. This may amuse you, her parents run a Chinese restaurant only a few miles from where you have been hiding for the past few years, best pork dumplings in the Empire.” This praise for a reaction from the Crow, a smile and a small nod, not sure what to expect.



“Miss Rui, please hand me your weapon.” Michael continued, pleased when the Crows skirt was lifted (probably higher then necessary) and a compact pistol was withdrawn, offered to Lord Kane who took it with a smile. “I spoke a lot with your father in his last few years Katie and he told me of the lessons he tried to reach you. I remember one in particular, about fear and love... and I know your father was wrong.”



Turning back to Annile he pressed the gun into her hands and then forced her to raise it, to point it at his bare chest. “This is Annile, she is my masterpiece, I have caused her pain that you can only imagine Katie. I own her and she has every reason to hate me... if your father is right then she doesn’t pull the trigger because she fears me.”



Looking into Annile’s eyes he smiled, gentle and encouraging which was rather rare. “My dear... I offer you a chance at freedom now, with the Grand Duchess and a Crow as witnesses, if you shoot me then I promise that you will not be punished in the least, you will be free and I suspect that Katie there will give you quite a lot of money.” He was confident, he knew she wouldn’t pull the trigger, just as he knew that fear or love on their own weren’t enough, that each person required a blend to have their true loyalty...



“If I am wrong pet, if I do not have your absolute devotion, then kill me and go free.” A glance back to Katie, wanting to see if she was processing this lesson.

 

[Chanti]

It took everything she had to stand there, unflinching as he prowled around her. His eyes hot, taking in every inch of her naked flesh. Her skin prickled under his examination. The fine hairs on the back of her neck standing up and shivering. Not once in her life had she felt like this – a slab of meat being inspected before being purchased for consumption. This must be how a slave felt on the auction block. It was beyond simply being naked. It was as if her very soul was stripped and bared before him.



As advanced as her education was, art history had never been her favorite subject and she did not recognize his reference. She was female enough to recognize a compliment though, and she brutally squashed the tiny little blossom of pleasure that sprouted in her heart at it. Every woman likes to be complimented, she ruthlessly reminded herself. Even if the compliment comes from evil incarnate.



When his hand moved out to her as if to touch her, she narrowed her eyes. Looking for all the world like a fierce little red-headed kitten about to bite. But then they were interrupted.



At the sound of the door opening her eyes widened in horror. Instinctively she moved towards her clothes. Realizing as soon as she moved that it was useless, she would never be able to get dressed in time. She could flee back into the sanctuary of the conservatory, hiding amongst the plants and waterfalls like a nubile young Eve hiding from the face of God. She suspected that her sanctuary would not survive Lord Kane – no more than the mythological sanctuary of the Garden of Eden survived the wrath of God. Besides, it would appear to be running, and she could not afford the look of that sort of weakness.



So instead she chose to stand. Gloriously naked, defiant and proud. If anything her demeanor grew even more arrogant at the sight of the crow and the slave. She knew at first glance that Anneli she knew her for a slave. In ancient day slaves had been visibly branded and marked. In these modern times such imperfections of the body were not required. Instead each slave had a tracker placed inside their bodies. The trackers were controlled by their owners and registered with the government. So there were hardly ever any physical signs of slavery, though some owners liked collars. But slaves had a certain bearing. A subservience that was not found in the free. Katie knew Anneli was a slave when the woman’s eyes honed on Lord Kane and never once left him. Her entire focus was on him, her smile bright and eager as she ran to him. Katie looked away from the slave dismissively, eyeing the crow up and down and then subtly dismissing her as well. Every line in her body spoke of contempt for the two women. It was just a slave and a soldier, she comforted herself. No one that mattered was seeing her like this.



The hypocrisy of her easy dismissal of Anneli simply because she was a slave when compared to her a lifetime of speaking out against the slavery laws did not even once occur to her.



Normally when Anneli entered Master’s presence she would have thrown herself at his feet. But as the Duchess had observed, Anneli was entirely focused on him from the second she saw him. Every cell in her body attuned to him, intensely trying to anticipate his desires. Who could describe her joy when he reached for her with that smile? She flew to him, delight singing in her heart. Throwing herself into his arms, humming happily into his mouth as she kissed him back eagerly. No one else in the room mattered. Not even the duchess. The only thing that mattered was her Master. Even when he broke off that wonderful kiss and turned his attention back to the duchess, Anneli remained fixated on him like an attentive dog. Still enjoying the taste of his mouth on her lips.



The duchess looked coldly at the crow, hiding her surprise. She had eaten those pork dumplings many a time, and they were indeed delicious. Of course she had not gone herself. That restaurant was too far from the safety of her Leninist neighborhood. It was a good thing she had not gone, or she would have likely been picked up long ago after this crow had seen her. She offered the woman a minute nod of her head in acknowledgement. Her heart screaming at her that she was naked and needed to clothe herself. Her mind reminding her that these women did not matter.



Alarm slivered inside her when Lord Kane asked for the woman’s gun. Was that it, then? Was she going to be exec….no. She frowned as Lord Kane reminded her of that horrible “lesson”. Was it mere coincidence that she had just dreamed of it? She still could smell the cooked meat from that poor girl’s arm. His assessment of her father’s opinion startled her, though. Her head jerked as she sharpened her attention on him. Eyes flickering to that devoted slave girl staring up at him in blatant adoration.



Katie’s lip curled in contempt. The poor mindless slut.



But when Lord Kane put the pistol in those small pretty hands, Katie leaned forward in anticipation. Supporting his opinion of where she stood on the matter of rewarding his death by quickly speaking out.



“Kill him and I will give you anything. Anything at all. I swear it.”



Anneli watched in open dismay as Master folded her fingers around the gun, pointing it at himself. She held it there only because he had placed it there and had not told her to remove it. Looking up at him with a pale face and pleading eyes as he made his offer. She didn’t even look at the duchess as the girl spoke so sharply, so eagerly.



“If I kill him, can you give me him back?”



And then she was speaking to him.



“I came to you your slave by law alone, Master. If you had made me this offer then I would have taken it. But now I am your slave by choice. If you freed me, I would want to remain yours. I would rather shoot myself than shoot you. Even if you commanded…I could not. I would disobey you and happily take my punishment. But if you commanded me to kill myself….”



She turned the gun on herself. Pressing it to the pulse fluttering in her slender throat. “It shall be done, Master. Merely say the word…”



Katie watched in shocked silence. After leaving the palace she had never once encountered a slave. Slaves were for the wealthy, and few in her sector were wealthy. The General had been, but he disapproved of slavery. It had never once occurred to her that some slaves WANTED to remain slaves. At least, not after Vanna had abandoned her. Begrudgingly, she allowed a modicum of respect for her enemy. He had proven his point, whatever that was.



And suddenly, she was exhausted. Even her fitful sleep for those few hours had not been enough. She turned dismissively from them all, reaching for her clothes folded neatly nearby.



“I am going to bed. I trust that you and your guests will learn to request entry to my rooms in the future. I do not care for unexpected guests.”

 

[DomG]

The contempt Katie put on display to the slave and the Crow didn’t particularly bother Michael, he understood it, he lived it. The Grand Duchess had no way of knowing that Anneli was more than just a normal slave, she had no way of knowing that she was a living and breathing work of Lord Kane’s art… in time she would understand that the woman she looked down on was merely the practice for what she would become.

As for Sue, well dismissing her was likely a bad idea, she might be loyal but her loyalty would be to Lord Kane over a would be Empress she had never met. Growing up she had been a part of a family that worked very hard, unable to afford to attend a proper university and as a result she had chosen a career path that had led to her working under cover, infiltrating student groups to seek out would be dissidents. Though she didn’t have a very high opinion of the nobility, Lord Kane was an exception. She knew of his tabloid reputation and she understood that it was not entirely undeserved, but she also had seen him take Anneli to her family’s restaurant and when her parents had tried to comp the meal he had insisted on paying and tipped generously. Perhaps he was no better than the others, but the way he had treated her and her family was enough to ensure she would be loyal to him.

If ordered to do so then she would happily arrange for the Grand Duchess to die in her sleep, knowing she would be rewarded properly for doing so.

It didn’t even bother him when she encouraged Anneli to shoot him, promising her anything. But the contempt that had been on her face when she had no doubt expected the slave to be shot did offend him. There was a hypocrisy there, the Grand Duchess looked down on him, insulted him, but wouldn’t speak up to save the life of a young woman who had done nothing to her. His heart was pounding, he could hear the blood rushing in his ears and he was a single moment from seeing red, focusing on the words of Anneli was the only thing that brought him back to equilibrium, the anger slowly fading away even as she turned the gun on herself. Slowly, with the utmost care, Michael took the fun from her hand and smiled as he looked into her eyes. “You have done beautifully.” Speaking softly, an intimate moment with an audience. “I could not have asked for more… you deserve a reward.”


True, she had only done what was expected but her words touched his heart and as he held the gun out for Sue to take once more he considered what he might offer her. “Take your time Anneli, I want you to think before you answer, but you may ask anything of me, anything you wish and I shall grant it too you.” Perhaps the offer was not as well thought out as it should have been but she had touched his heart with what she said and that was worthy of recognition.

Then, reluctantly, he turned his attention back to Sue. “A few things before you are dismissed. Spread the word, I am not to be disturbed for anything less than an emergency. The friend of the Grand Duchess who was recently apprehended… the young lady, is to be brought to the palace, have her placed in a suite on the far side from these chambers and make sure no one lays a hand on her, she is to be treated as a guest. Finally, if your parents try and comp my meal again we will have a problem, I can only insist on paying so many times before it grows tedious.” The last instruction was delivered with a slight smile, knowing that small things like that would get around and only improve his image.

Katie’s words brought his attention to her, laser like focus in a single instant as she moved to gather her clothing, a few steps removing the space between them and his right hand clamping around her forearm like a vice. Before he had been hesitant to touch her but that spell was broken now, Michael very aware that he could easily break her arm with little more than a tightening of his fist. “You will go to sleep when I am done with you.” He hissed, knowing that the Grand Duchess would never have been treated this way before. With his grip on her arm he forced her stand upright, his eyes locked on hers. “You see that slave behind me, the one who you encouraged to shoot me but was unable too because of her devotion to me?” A smile spreading across his face, it was time to let Katie know just what the real point behind the refresher on the lesson was. “She is what you will become.”

Reaching out with his left hand he cupped her ass, pulling her to him, letting her feel just how much the idea excited him. “Tell me Grand Duchess, does the idea of being pregnant during your coronation and our wedding ceremony excite you like it does me?”

 

[Chanti]

Master knew her well. Though Anneli was as close to a perfect slave as could be – all due to his training – she was not perfect. But Master knew her faults one of which was a tendency to impulsiveness. Had he not subtly warned her to take her time, she would have blurted out her greatest wish – one that would have been a terrible mistake for both of them.



She would have asked him for his hand in marriage.



As he turned from her to the Crow, Anneli’s heart nearly broke. As much as she would love it, marriage to her was not what was best for Master. And Anneli’s little slave heart was a little horrified that she had nearly demanded something he should not give her. He needed the marriage to the Grand Duchess in order to gain what he wanted – the throne…no, the world. The Empire, though it did not control the entire world, was still the only civilized world. It reminded her what Master was always telling her – he knew what was best for her. Far better than she did.



She would have to consider this boon he had granted her carefully. Use it to both their benefits. She looked over the Grand Duchess with considering eyes. She was younger than expected. Though Anneli knew the girl’s age as well as anyone, she had somehow expected the Duchess to at least appear older. Act older. The stature of her rank led to those expectations, perhaps. But in truth, she was hardly more than a child. Dangerously young. Extremely beautiful. Fierce and proud and defiant. Things Anneli had never been, she had come to Master terrified and angry and betrayed.



Though the longer she studied the young duchess, the more she wondered if the girl was really all that different than she had been when she entered into her slavery to the Master. Wouldn’t she be terrified – in the hands of a man she surely considered her greatest enemy? Wouldn’t she feel betrayed, delivered into those merciless hands by the council which was supposed to act as her greatest protectors? Wouldn’t she feel angry, having her friends and defenders fall with barely any fight?



Many others would have felt sorrow and pity for the embattled royal girl. Anneli rejoiced for her. Though the Grand Duchess did not know it, she was in the strongest, most capable hands in the world. Yes, she would suffer – but that suffering would bring pleasure to Master and ultimately bring the same happiness to the duchess that Anneli enjoyed.



In the shining, adoring eyes of Anneli, Master could do no wrong, make no mistake. His success was guaranteed.



And the key to his success now was the Grand Duchess. Anneli studied the other girl as the crow left and Master went to his new acquisition. Even in a hurry, the man never seemed to hurry.



There was no jealousy on Anneli’s part. Utterly none. To be jealous implied you had the right of possession to begin with. Anneli had no right of possession when it came to Master. That was HIS right, not hers. No, Anneli simply renewed her determination to help Master succeed in his ambitions through her. How exactly to do that remained to be seen.



Katie never saw him coming. Exhausted, overwhelmed, she almost stumbled as she grabbed her clothes. Thoughts already drifting to her bed where she could lose herself in the refuge of sleep. But that refuge was denied her by the hard fingers of Lord Kane closing over her bare arm with bruising force. She gasped, startled. All but jerked around to stare up at him in shock. Her cheeks darkening as she felt her naked breasts jiggle.



Her eyes followed his pointed finger, looking at the placid, pretty face of the slave, then back at him. What she would become? Her brow wrinkled as she turned that over in her head. What did he mean exactly? Her eyes began to narrow as her quick brain processed – the only warning he would get before his hand slapped into her naked ass, startling a shriek from her as her soft naked body thudded against his, the bulge between his legs pressing insistently against her belly.



Anneli smiled happily as she watched, then froze in horror as the Grand Duchess drew herself up in a fury, pulled back her arm, and sent her balled fist sailing right towards Master’s right eye.

"I will NEVER be a slave" Katie's hiss was venemous.


Even Anneli, at the torturous beginning of her enslavement, had never once struck at Master.



_____________________________________________________________________

​

After Katie had left with the General and their intimidating entourage, the party had quickly broken up. Gage walked Heather home. Her parents hadn’t asked why she was home early – they were not home themselves.



Heather didn’t have the close relationship with her parents that Katie had with her foster parents. There was no abuse and no neglect. In fact, her parents were some of the wealthier people in their district, and determined to rise socially and perhaps move out of the ghetto they were in. But it was a difficult feat – leaving the neighborhood one was born in was…difficult at best. Definitely discouraged by the overly bureaucratic government. Heather had never told them about Katie’s origins, though she and Gage and a few others knew about it. She half suspected her parents would have promptly turned Katie in to her father in exchange for social ranking.



No, Heather was definitely not physically neglected. Her wardrobe was massive, food and money were never a problem. Her parents even kept a cheap house slave, something Heather was deeply ashamed. She always referred to the girl as a servant.



Her parents, on the contrary, seemed quite proud of their daughter. Heather was an exceptionally pretty girl, fanatical about her appearance. She never left her bedroom without her makeup carefully done, her outfit perfection. She was a walking, talking sexual advertisement – and boys – even the men across the neighborhood bought into it. She was never short of lovers – had not been ever since she began having sex. She was graceful, charming, funny – had all the social skills they expected of their daughter. They rewarded her with money and freedom to do as she liked – but they did not reward her with affection or praise. Those Heather sought and found elsewhere.



Her friendship with Katie astonished everyone – even, at times, herself. They were as opposite as could be – and yet from the very first time they met, they were best friends. Except for her foster parents and the general, Katie was the first person in the neighborhood to learn about who Katie really was. It was her only point of secret jealousy. SHE was far more fitted to be an empress than Katie. Katie who abhorred dressed and makeup and social events – unless Gage was there. Katie COULD be an amazing empress, Heather’s affection for her friend never denied that. But she wasn’t interested in things thing an empress needed to be, and Heather – of course – was.



But fate, it seemed, was not interested in Heather’s opinions.



She entered the empty house with a sad sigh, wondering if Katie would remember her old friends now that she was entering into the glitzy, glamorous life of an Empress. Oh, Heather knew there were terrible things in the empire that needed fixing and that was what the General and Katie wanted to do, but Heather thought only of the fabulous parties and beautiful dresses and glittering banquets that she followed religiously on social media.



She went upstairs, changed into a soft cotton nightshirt, flopped into the bed, and checked her social media. It was almost two hours after Katie had been rushed out of the party that she saw the notice of the emergency interview with Serene. Squealing with delight, Heather rolled over in her bed.



“TV on.”



The tv flickered on.



“The Voice, Serena.”



Another flicker, and the smiling face of Serene introducing Heather’s best friend. She couldn’t resist clapping excitedly as the camera swiveled to Katie’s tensely smiling face.



This Crow Team approached their entry differently than the one that would invaded Findley Marten’s house later that night. Too many houses were close to this one – a loud entry would bring out too many look-loo’s, suspicious and probably defensive neighbors that could turn the scene ugly. So the team leader decided on a silent entry. First, they confirmed their target's location and got the required picture using a drone. Then they moved. They breached the locked door in three seconds. The only sound in the silent house a canned unintelligible chatter upstairs. The team moved through the bottom floor with cold, silent efficiency. Using hand signals to indicate the rooms they cleared. Then, as a unit, they moved upstairs.



All rooms were cleared except the one the target was in. Six heavily armed men in black commando uniforms and face masks waited outside the teenage girls room, waiting while their leader counted down with his fingers. On the mark of five, they burst in. The team lead kicking the door down, all the men rushing in with a fierce roar designed to intimidate.



“Down on your belly, bitch!” “Down!” “Don’t move or we shoot!” “Off the bed!”



The conflicting demands along with the overwhelming force resulted in exactly what they wanted – a terrified, frozen, shrieking girl.



In seconds she was cuffed on both her hands and feet. A black hood shoved over her head. She tried to roll her head to escape it, and a hard fist punished her – punching down onto her head. She sagged limply, and the hood was fastened. Four minutes after entry into the house she was in the back of the van, sobbing and begging for help, information, anything at all.



She received no answer except a rough boot on her ass, a brutal male voice telling her to shut up. She immediately quieted, only trembling when a gloved hand lifted the hem of her sleepshirt.



“Pretty little cunt. Gonna be fun to play with.”



Loud, cruel male laughter filled the van.



Before Katie was done with the interview Heather was secured in a chair in a gray cement room, shivering and scared out of her mind. Two men were in the room with her, seated at chairs around a small table. They ignored her at first, chattering amongst themselves – enough for her to know that she was not the only one picked up. She heard Gage mentioned, how he had chosen to fight and had suffered for it. They thought that was hilarious, but Heather was heartsick about it, with her panic growing. Was she going to be killed? Used as a hostage against Katie?



Time ticked by. One of the men left, came back with food. It smelled delicious, but she was offered nothing as the men ate and talked. Then their attention seemed to turn to her. A chair scraped. A rough hand palmed her left breast through her nightshirt. Heather squealed under the hood, jerking in the chair. The two men laughed, and the hand on her breast squeezed. Hard.



“Don’t act like you don’t like it, slut. I’ve seen your file. You will fuck any swinging dick you come across.”



Heather made a sound of denial, but her blood pounded in her ears. File? Dear God they had a file on her?



“When I was getting food, Mack asked if we had already raped her. Said she wasn’t wearing panties when they picked her up.” This was the voice at the table.



“Oh really…” A quick jerk of a rough hand, and her sleep shirt was yanked up to her belly, leaving her exposed. Under the hood, her eyes filled with tears as the men grunted in approval.



“That’s a fucking gorgeous pink cunt.”



“Damn right. I can’t wait to rape this little slut. Gonna fuck the bitch raw.”



A hand slapped her cunt, and she squealed under the hood. More male laughter. A rough slap on her breast, another on her inner thigh left her sobbing and trembling in the chair. The door opened, another man came in. They talked amongst themselves, but Heather couldn’t keep track of what they were saying. She tensed when someone left, but she was left alone for now. Papers shuffling. Sounds of writing.



Time passed, then they were back. Laughing, squeezing her tits and cunt, slapping her ass and thighs. One of them shoved a finger up her pussy, and that brought a flurry of amusement because he found his finger wet. Under the hood her cheeks burned with shame.



It went on and on, for what felt like hours. Left alone, and then right when she started to relax, they were back at her. Always rough. Jerking her hair, slapping her face under the hood. Once rubbing what she knew was a cock against her lips, the hood the only thing protecting her from being forced to suck him. Another time they were on the verge of untying her and raping her when they were interrupted by someone else, leaving her in a sweating, blind panic as they casually chatted with each other.



And then suddenly, as she thought she was going to die of exhaustion – constantly being kept in a state of tension – it all changed.



Someone came into the room. The other two men left immediately. And the hood was jerked off her head. She squinted in the bright light in the room, her watery eyes not able to distinguish the wavering form standing stiffly in front of her.



Moments later she was able to see clearly enough. It was a woman. A powerful sleek body with cold green eyes and jet black hair. She should have felt safer – it was a woman. But she didn’t. Not until the woman spoke.



“My name is Patra Wynn. A mistake has been made. You and your friends were felt to be a threat to the Grand Duchess. However that mistake has been discovered by Lord Kane and is being rectified. Lord Kane feels your presence in the palace will benefit Her Grace, and I will take you there.”



Speechless, Heather could only nod. Then a whirlwind of activity began where she was removed from the chair, taken to a shower, given fresh clothes. She was impressed at their quality, until she realized they were HER clothes. At some point, someone had retrieved her clothes.



She was too bewildered, too damned exhausted, to figure it all out. She dressed, was escorted to a car, and driven away into the night. It was there, in the safety of the car, she uttered her first complaint.



“They hurt me in there. They were going to..to rape me.”

“They will be punished.” Patra’s matter of fact reply left no room for further complaints, though she had no idea her complaint would be ignored. The men had done precisely what they were supposed to do. Heather subsided into silence, and she was so sleepy she almost missed pulling up in front of the grand palace. The door was opened, and when she stepped out she was flanked by two guards. Paperwork was exchanged from Patra to the guards, and she was then hustled quickly into the palace and taken down a bewildering labyrinth of halls before she was deposited into a room and left.



Heather stood, looking around the luxurious suite in bewilderment. It was small, as suites in the palace went. A bedroom, a sitting room, bathroom, and a small kitchenette with a stocked minifridge and bar. A bowl of expensive, out of season fruit graced the coffee table. Heather had only three minutes to look around before there was a polite knock on the door.


Heather instantly tensed.



“H…hello?”


The knocker was a smiling, pleasant servant. Heather had no idea the girl was a slave. But she was reassured she could have anything she wanted, however the Duchess was in important meetings and would be with her as soon as possible, but no earlier than the next day.



Heather wanted nothing but sleep. Her clothes not being delivered, she slept naked on devastatingly luxurious silk sheets.

 

[DomG]

Michael had read the file on Heather before he had come to the palace, if he was going to use her as leverage then anything he could learn would be useful to him. Seeing the cracks that he could use against her had been easy, a family that wanted to be upwardly mobile but would likely never have a chance to become more then they had been and their daughter might be able to move into a slightly nicer neighborhood if she worked hard and things worked out just right. Had things gone a little differently, if she had never made friends with a runaway Grand Duchess, if she had not shown signs of sympathy towards her family’s single slave… then she might have been recruited as a candidate for Crow training. The signs were there, ambitious family, intelligent and beautiful… just lacking any note that she was properly ruthless.



Her treatment at the black site wouldn’t even cause Michael to blink when he eventually heard about it, though he might perhaps feign some kind of pity. He was a realist with how things had to work, the Empire had many enemies both within and without, and cruel men were needed to ensure the safety of the masses. Occasionally innocent people would fall into the hands of those men and it was unfortunate but it was better than the alternative.

Better that a dozen innocents suffer then a single guilty party go free.

With that in mind the black sites were staffed with the sadists that came into the Crow program, men who lacked the subtlety that would make them useful in the field. Michael knew those men would have likely been in prison if they hadn’t found a place within the system… a way to help ensure the system continued to function.



The men at the palace though, the ones who would be guarding Heather and the rest of the palace for Lord Kane were the more reliable sort, they had enough impulse control to restrain themselves when ordered, they thought long term when it came to the pleasures of the future rather than the immediate desires. They knew that if Lord Kane didn’t want the young woman hurt then it was for a good reason…









The threat of the transformation that was coming was not meant to tell Katie that she would become a slave, though there was some temptation in the idea he also knew that he could never properly enslave the Empress, never register her as his property. Of course the next best thing would still be a fantastic pleasure, to make it so that she was as devoted to worshiping him as Anneli was. Though not a slave he intended to ensure that her every waking thought was on pleasing him…



But then came something that he never would have actually expected, the Grand Duchess threw a punch. Though he was significantly larger then she was he also knew that a blow thrown in anger, with all her fury and weight behind it, might actually hurt a bit should it make contact. A black eye would have been a very likely consequence of her smaller fist colliding with his face. Many men might underestimate a woman in a fight but his close quarters combative lessons had taught Michael that a properly thrown punch hitting in the right spot could even if it came from the weaker sex.

But the punch wasn’t thrown properly, anger might lend her strength and boldness but that didn’t make up for the difference in knowledge between Michael and Katie. He had been extensively trained and had gone out on several raids since that training. He knew it was possible that Katie had received some kind of training in self-defense but he also knew that it couldn’t compare to real world experience.



Though there was only a moments warning that was ample time for Michael, her body language telegraphed the blow from a mile out and while he didn’t have enough time to avoid or stop the punch entirely he was able to choose where it landed. A black eye would be an embarrassment, something that couldn’t be tolerated, so he leaned into the blow, lowering his head so her knuckles smacked into his forehead, the thick bone far better for taking a punch then his face. There was a moment of pain from the impact and his body rocked back slightly… but that wouldn’t do anything to protect her or drive him off.

In fact all it really accomplished was causing his eyes to darken with fury, almost as pissed as when she had attempted to have him arrested but now they were alone, there wasn’t an audience to save her. The grip on her arm tightened and the hand on her ass drew back with his hand clenching into a fist. It seemed only fitting that he do to her what she had just tried to do to him. His entire body shifted for a moment, ready to throw a proper punch before he forced the hand back down, a deep breath and the fist unclenched. To give his future bride a black eye would be beneath him, there were other ways to punish her and they were far more fitting.

“Grab the bag.” He growled, knowing Anneli would hear him, knowing she would obey without a moment’s hesitation. With his hand on her arm twisting, looking to force her to comply with pain from her arm being forced behind her back and twisted upward. Staying close he kept pressed to her, his cock against her backside and his bare chest against her back. He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t careful as he man handled his future bride, forcing her into the room that she had been sleeping in, the room that he believed had been her bedroom before she had run away. With a rough shove he forced her deeper into the room, towards the bed and then locked the door as Anneli entered. “Oil.” Another command barked, a hand held out and waiting for what he had demanded, smiling when he felt it smack into his palm.

He moved quickly, aggressively, gripping Katie by her hair and forcing her back towards the bed, man handling and forcing her to bend over, holding her down as he shifted the grip to the back of her neck. “I’m almost pleased.” He growled to Katie, ignoring any protests or struggles. “If you had behaved yourself then I would have treated you with care…” The cap of the bottle was flipped open with a thumb and he began to pour the oil out over her ass, mostly pouring it along the crack to make it more pleasurable for himself rather than easing the experience for her. “While I want you to submit to me I also know that it is inevitable… so you deciding to do things the hard way only makes it more enjoyable for me until that happens.”

And her defiance almost guaranteed that he would be visiting Heather before very long, her poor behavior would have consequences… not that Michael expected her to be thinking of that as he dropped the oil bottle without ceremony and began to press his thumb into her ass, not trying to prepare her but instead testing and tormenting her.

 

[Chanti]

Katie had never been trained in self defense. Both her father and her mentor, the General, believed the same in regards to that sort of training. As a future empress, she would live her life in a carefully protected bubble. Even when she thought she was running around the streets in freedom, she was always shadowed by the general’s men. Her protectors. She would always have protectors. There was no need to waste time in training self defense that was better used elsewhere.



So Katie’s punch was neither well planned or well thrown. It was a muscular spasm betraying her violent rage.



It was a muscular spasm she instantly regretted when her fist thumped into his forehead. Hard.



“Owwwww!” She clutched at her aching hand, frowning up at him accusingly. As if he had hit her hand with his head instead of the other way around.



She regretted it even more when she saw the fierce anger flare in his eyes, his own hand drawing back in a fist. That act left her standing in unresisting shock. Never had Katie been threatened physically. No one had ever dared. Even her father, tormenting her mentally and physically, never lifted a hand against her. Her rank set her apart. Protected. Safe from the physical threats of others. No one would dare lift a hand against an empress to be. Until now.



She stared up at him with big, bewildered eyes. Too stunned to even try to escape the iron clamp of his fingers on her slender arm. A naïve innocent finally facing a very personal, very physical threat. And she simply did not know what to do about it. Untrained for flight or fight, she simply stood like a deer trapped in a spotlight.



But then the threatening fist was put away and she could breathe again. Even complain as she was manhandled into the bedroom.



“What are you doing? Let me go! You have no right!” Her complaints rapidly turned into screeches that rang through the rooms. “Help! Help! Guards!” She fought to get away, but everytime her sleek naked body tried to wiggle away her arm ached threateningly, straining dangerously. She couldn’t even get far enough away to avoid that insistent bulge that kept pressing on her naked ass.



The two guards stationed outside heard her. But they were Crows, and they knew Lord Kane was inside with her. They didn’t even look at each other, though both men had small smirks on their faces as inside the Grand Duchess cried for help. The only thing that would draw them into the apartments of the Grand Duchess was a summons from Lord Kane himself. They didn’t expect that summons, no doubt Lord Kane could handle the pretty duchess by himself.



Anneli grabbed the bag as soon as he spat out the order, hurrying after them. She was all smiles. Secure in the knowledge that Master was beginning his work with his duchess already. She thought briefly of trying to calm the girl, but said nothing. She had no business interfering in Master’s training until he told her to.



Never had Katie felt so much fear as when she heard the bedroom lock click behind her. Not even when she watched poor Michel die and the General fall. She was already trying to scrabble across the bed to relative safety – away from HIM. But she didn’t get far. His fingers twisted cruelly in her hair, jerking her head back. She squealed in pain, her scalp immediately burning, involuntary hot tears springing to her eyes.



She heard his snapped order, but didn’t understand. Head Anneli’s movement as she quickly handed him the bottle. Unfortunately though she had no self defense training, she HAD been trained in the theories of the power of sex. And she knew precisely what he meant. When she felt the cool oil sliding over her naked ass she burst into a fresh eruption of struggling. That delectable body wiggling underneath his grip as she clawed at the bedding, tried to kick back at him. Swearing violently enough that she even got a raised eyebrow from an amused Anneli.



“You fucking bastard! Let me the FUCK go! Don’t you DARE fucking touch me! I will have you killed! I will have your cock sliced off inch by inch and fed to you! Let me GO, you fucker!” The Grand Duchess was in an uncontrollable rage of panicked terror. The carefully controlled regal demeanor was gone, and the street rat was in place.



When his thumb pressed into the tight rosy pink pucker between those two creamy halfmoons of delectable assmeat, Katie howled in impotent rage.



“Help me! Get him of me!” She screamed at Anneli, who watched in composed silence. Her only answer sitting on the edge of the bed next to Katie, kicking off her heels. Hooking one leg up on the bed, leaving the other small elegant foot on the floor. Exposing her bare pink cunt to them both, the flesh still glittering wetly. She was always wet around Master. Even if he was reading reports and she was kneeling at his feet for hours, she was wet. Slowly, in front of Katie’s horrified eyes, Anneli almost lazily rubbed her cunt, humming under her breath with pleasure.



“What the fuck is WRONG with you? He is raping me! Help! Get me some fucking help if you won’t do anything!” Katie was crying now, tears of rage and frustration and terror pouring down her cheeks as that cruel finger dug deeper and deeper into her impossibly tight virgin ass. And now there was her first taste of sexual pain too, her ass resisting him, her body tensing. But his finger unmerciful, unpitying. Gouging deep into her ass as she howled and screamed and begged and cried.

 

[DomG]

The guards outside the door, able to hear the Grand Duchess scream, only just able to understand what she was screaming, remained stick still save for the smirks on their faces. Either would have been happy to watch what was about to happen, having been born poor they would rejoice at the sight of the top of the social order being brought low.

“Lucky bastard.” One of them murdered, lips barely moving. “I wonder if we could get access to the security footage in there.”

“Don’t even think about it.” The other whispered, eyes darting around nervously. Of the two he was a relative rookie, new to his duties and while used to what was expected he also didn’t know how far he could push his luck. “I’ve heard what he does is someone looks at his favorite slave the wrong way, what would he do if someone was caught talking about what he did to the Empress.”

The first shrugged, acting nonchalant but inside he was suddenly very cold and very nervous, knowing full well what fate could be in store if he crossed a line. A deep breath, a slow blink, and he was able to return his heart rate to normal.

• — - - - - -

Of course Michael wasn’t thinking of the security footage, though when he took a moment to reflect later he would be relieved to recall that it was stored on an isolated server that required very high clearance to even access. No, in that moment he was just thinking of the finger digging into the ass of his bride to be, slowly twisting and pulling to force her body to stretch and allow the oil to drip inside of her.

The other hand, on the back of her neck to keep her pinned down, opened and the fingers flexed for a moment before closing again. His palm was centered perfectly on the spine, calloused fingers long enough to wrap around her delicate throat and almost meet the thumb that came around the other side, the hand nearly encircling her neck entirely.

“There is nothing wrong with her.” Michael almost spat the words, giving his thumb a particularly cruel twist to drive the words in. “She is just as I made her, a work of art... and I have no doubt she is remembering when I first claimed her.” Again the thumb twisted as Michael looked up from his prize, meeting Anneli’s eyes and smiling. “But she was smart enough not to try and hit me, she struggled and tried to escape but she wasn’t nearly as stupid as you have been.”

The thumb was removed from her ass and his open palm quickly slapped between her thighs, a stinging spank delivered to her unprotected pussy. Then, taking his time so she would hear it, Michael unzipped his pants and withdrew his cock. “A smart girl wouldn’t have run away.” He explained to her, pouring out some more oil directly into his cock. “We would have been married about a year ago, our first child would have been born... but you were a fucking idiot who ran way.”

Satisfied his cock had been lubed up Michael ran his hand over it a few times, spreading the oil around before the hand returned to her ass, gripping one flawless cheek and spreading her open. “A smart girl wouldn’t have tried to have me arrested, wouldn’t have thrown such a pitiful punch, and a smart girl certainly wouldn’t be getting fucked in the ass.” Slowly he pressed forward, taking his time to savor the experience and draw it out for her. The head of his cock pressed against the already abused pucker of her ass, the resistance futile as she was forced open, the head of his cock within her after several long moments.

“The more you fight, the more I will hurt you.” He promised, starting to slide the first few inches of his cock deep within her, making sure he took his time just so it would be that much more drawn out and humiliating.

 

[Chanti]

Anneli smiled back at her Master. A sweet smile that left no doubt of how much she idolized him. She continued toying with her cunt, making sure to keep her thighs spread wide so Master could see if he wanted to. So his new toy could see. Her movements were slow and leisurely, instinctively matching those of her Master. The duchess was being quite silly in Anneli’s opinion. If the girl would just LISTEN to Master, then everything would fall in place. Her continued resistance was both futile and detrimental to herself. It had not taken Anneli very long to learn that with the pain Master enjoyed giving came unimaginable pleasure – but only when she was a good girl. Master was trying to teach this to the shrieking girl on the bed.



The Grand Duchess Katrin was definitely NOT being a good girl. But Anneli’s faith in her Master never once wavered. Her smile never faltered as she almost idly stroked her cunt, pinching her clit. Sliding first one finger, then the other into her pussy. Hips rising and falling as her breath quickened, masturbating to the ass rape of the duchess.



Whether Katie heard what Lord Kane was telling her was questionable. She did not stop her screeching threats and screams for help. She continued howling over his corrections, until he placed that fat throbbing cockhead against her burning ass.



Only then did she fall silent in a seizure of terror and deep humiliation. Beside her she heard the little gasps of his slavegirl, and Katie wanted to simply die. It was too much. Her shame was too raw, too deep. She hated herself for her helplessness. Hated the stupid slave beside her who cared only for her evil Master. Hated her friends who had failed her and left her in his clutches. And most of all she hated him, with a hatred that soured on her tongue and made her want to vomit.



And it was in that silence that his last warning came.



“The more you fight, the more I will hurt you.”



In the pounding silence of the room, that small statement wormed its way into her heart. But the fruit of the seed would not come for some time yet.



The pressure on her resisting asshole grew greater and greater. She whimpered in pain, her fingers digging deep into the bedding as she buried her burning face into it. If she could only die. Just die right now, so she would not have to endur….



White hot agony shot through her ass, and she was certain he had torn her. She shrieked, her body struggling again. Fighting desperately to escape the boiling hot pain pushing deeper and deeper into her ass with slow determination. Hot flesh wrapped almost painfully tightly on his cock.



“It’s s beautiful, Master…” Anneli’s soft voice fluttered under the screams of agony from the duchess. No longer threatening or screaming for help, Katie was begging for mercy. Her face flushed and streaked with tears as she babbled mindlessly.



“Noooo, please! Oh please it hurts so bad! Please stop! Please stop! I’m so sorry, I won’t do it again, PLEASE!!!!”