Chapter Text
When Ilic’s consciousness returned to him, it did not do so in one quick swoop. Instead, it was slowly dawning, as his mind was trying to shake off the dizziness and could not quite do it. He quickly became aware of one thing though: Pain. He was in pain. In considerable pain. His ribs hurt with every breath and he was rather sure he tasted blood in his mouth. The most aggravating pain, however, came from his shoulders and he could not quite place it as his consciousness was dawning, not quite able to process his situation.
When he opened his eyes, his vision was blurred. His surroundings were relatively barren, that much he could say, but still… it was hard to place, with the colors blurring into each other.
He might have sunken back into unconsciousness. He was not sure. But at some point, his mind woke up—and he wished it had not done so. As now the pain was impossible to ignore. His shoulders were screaming in anguish, as his wrists were bound behind his back, a rope or chain connecting them to a kind of hook above. He could not see, but knew it had to be there. In his unconsciousness his legs had given out under him, letting his entire body weight hang from his shoulders.
He tried to move his arms, but could not really manage. So he tried to get his feet underneath his body, but found them bound to each other as well. Still. He did his best to somehow stand up, to somehow lessen the pain—only that it was almost impossible to balance this way.
Somebody had stripped him of his clothes, too, leaving him all nude and vulnerable.
Panic rose in his chest. He had to get out of here. He had to get… But if his shoulders were dislodged, he knew there was no getting out. Not without someone to set them and…
What had even happened? Where was he?
He tried to remember. He tried to remember what had happened to him, though his mind was slow and sluggish, as if he was drunk. Maybe it was due to the pain. He could not tell. But then it hit him. The Duke! The Duke, that fucking bastard, had asked him to be his “Queen”. And in that moment Ilic had his temper no longer under control. He had punched him. Again. And he had knocked him out.
Ilic had not been entirely stupid. He had tried to get away. But he had not gotten far before the guards had caught him. There had been a fight, but he had been outnumbered. That… was the last thing he remembered.
Torture. It was the first thought that now crossed his mind. He was going to get tortured.
No. Wrong. He was already being tortured right in this moment, with his arms bound this way.
Once more he took in his surroundings. This did not look like the dungeon, though. Not really. While the room was rather barren, it was furnished. There was a bed—a rather strange kind of bed though. There was a wardrobe as well as a drawer. But there were other things, though. Things that might belong into a dungeon indeed.
There also was no window. Leaving him unable to tell what time of day it was.
As his mind cleared up slowly, he came to a conclusion: That he was here, was probably the Duke’s doing. Because this… did seem like the Duke. Fucking sadistic bastard. This was madness. What was he going to do to him? Was he going to punish him or was he going to just force him to accept the proposal.
A proposal, ha! Between two men! As if in the end he would be anything more than a glorified sex slave.
But darn. His shoulders. They were hurting so much. And it was a piercing pain. One of the sort, that was hard to ignore. He tried to focus on his breathing, as he would do if he was wounded on the battle field. But he was not entirely certain how long he could keep this up. He was not even certain, how long he was in this position to begin with. It had been the early afternoon as the Duke had proposed to him. But without a window it was impossible to tell how late it was now.
He also knew one other thing: If he was left in this way, he would die sooner or later. He had seen people die this way before. At some point the muscles in the chest, responsible for the breathing, would give out and he would suffocate. But he assumed the Duke would not want that.
At the very least that sick bastard was gonna want to watch him die.
Time passed. Maybe minutes. Maybe entire hours. But at some point, there were steps on whatever was outside that wooden door. Wasn’t it cruel that he could tell it was the Duke from the rhythm of his steps alone?
A key was turned in the door, before it creaked open.
There he stood. Smaller than Ilic, but yet with the aura of what might well be the mightiest man on this world. If it was not for the discoloration of the bridge of his nose.
This time Ilic had gotten him good. Right in the middle of his fucking perfect face.
There was a smile on the man’s face, though it was a cold smile. An icy smile. “I see you are awake, Ilic, my Love.”
Two minds were wrestling inside Ilic. The one wanted to scream at the man, to spit at him, to curse him to hell. The other, more reasonable one, knew that this would not get him out of here. So he took a deep breath. “Your Grace.”
The man did not reply. Instead, he pulled the door closed, before slowly walking over to him.
In his position Ilic’s head was beneath that of the man, so he had to strain his neck to look into those golden eyes, that looked at him the same way a predator would look at his prey. The words that followed were spoken with an icy, hollow tone. “Ilic, my Love.”
Ilic did not want to beg for forgiveness. But he also was a reasonable person and knew he was not gonna get out of here without it. So, he lowered his head again. “I am sorry, for what I did, your Grace. I was unable to control my temper and I am sorry I blemished your face.”
A hand gripped Ilic by the chin, forcing him to look up again. Those eyes—those golden eyes—stared directly at him. “Do you remember, what I said to you?”
Ilic had no idea what the Duke was speaking about. He took a shaky breath and shook his head, as much as he was able to. “I… I don’t…”
“One time, I said. I will let it slide one time.” A slap hit Ilic’s face, though the pain was almost ignorable, in comparison with his screaming shoulders. “Have you any idea how you make me look? Not only to deny my proposal, but to knock me out! I am the Duke. I am going to be King! And you are dare to raise your hand against me?”
Forcing himself to bear the man’s gaze, Ilic took another breath. “I am sorry. I truly am, your Grace. I know, I stepped out of line. Please, forgive me.”
The Duke gave a long sigh. His hand caressed Ilic’s cheek with an almost sincere gentleness. “Of course, you are, my sweet Ilic. Of course, you are sorry. But you don’t understand the situation. If it was not for me, you would already be dead. I saved your life, you know? My guards were already about to kill you, when I stopped them. And even if you already were my wife, I could not just let it slide for you to lift your hand against me like this.”
What was that even supposed to mean?
It was exhausting to keep his head up, to keep looking at the man, though Ilic forced himself to do it. “I understand,” he lied. “So… What is going to happen with me now?”
“I am going to have to punish you, Ilic. To put you back into your place.”
As if all of the things this bastard had done to him during those last three months had not been punishment enough. Yet, Ilic nodded. “I understand.” What else was there for him to do?
No matter what the Duke would do. He would live through it. And in the end… He had no idea, what he was going to do in the end. He would not marry this sadistic bastard. But… How was he supposed to get away again? In his experience a certain way would only work once.
“Of course you do, my sweet Ilic,” the Duke purred, running his long fingers through Ilics hair. “I promise, I won’t be too rough with you.”
What was he even supposed to answer to this?
He did not say anything, just listened, as the Duke went over to the drawer, opening it to get something out. Then he did step behind Ilic, touching his ass.
Already Ilic was waiting for something to be inserted into him, be it a finger, a cock or some sort of instrument, but nothing of the sort happened. The Duke just caressed his ass and sighed.
“Believe me, Ilic. All of this hurts me just as much as it hurts you. Just in a different way.”
Something his Ilic’s ass with a tight slap. Something that felt like leather or something of that sort. Not quite hard. Not quite soft. But the impact left a burning pain, even though it was quickly drowned out by the pain in his shoulders again.
There was nothing much he could do about it. He could not really move. Could not really get away from this place. So all that was left for him was to endure, as that thing—a crop, as it was used on horses, he was rather sure of it—hit his backside again and again and again.
He grunted in pain, though each grunt made his shoulders and ribs hurt even more. There was a pause in the beating after a while. Ilic had not cared to count how many times he had been hit.
Once more the Duke came around him to caress his cheek. He bowed down to him, pressing a hungry kiss onto Ilic’s lips. “I am sorry, that I have to do this. But know that if I left you to the torture master, your pain might be much worse.”
Ilic wanted to protest. Wanted to spit in this fucking perfect face. ‘Oh, so you are doing me a favor?’ he wanted to scream. But he did not do anything, but nod. “I know, your Grace.”
“Of course you do.” Once more the hand caressed his cheek, before the Duke circled him once more and the beating continued. Those hits were now spread not only on his behind, but also his upper thighs. Between each and every impact there was a slow pause, as if to let the pain sink in. But it was the longer pause, that made Ilic aware that he would not like what came next.
He groaned, as the crop hit his balls, tears welling in his eyes. And it did not stay with this one impact. Again the Duke beat him there, beat also that sensitive bit of skin between his balls and his ass. And then again, and again, while Ilic could no longer hold back the tears.
The first sob turned into a whimper of pain, as the sob just strained his ribs and shoulders more. He tried to breathe again, but he had already lost that battle.
“I know,” the Duke soothed. “I know. But we will have to get through this.” As if the bastard was not enjoying this, as he continued.
A part of Ilic prayed to black out again. To be able to escape into unconsciousness. But his mind persisted, not allowing him the sweet release, as that crop beat him again and again—so many times—until the Duke finally gave a sigh. Once more his hand caressed Ilic’s ass, though even the gentle touch now felt painful.
“See,” he whispered. “I told you, we would get through this.”
Ilic did not reply. He was still trying to hold back his sobs, as his entire ribcage was hurting by now. And yet, no matter how hard he tried, he just did not manage to get himself back under control. Only when he heard some fabric rustle, did he try to turn his head.
“What… What are you doing?” he asked breathlessly.
“As I said,” the Duke replied. “You have to be punished for what you did.” As he pressed into him, a pained yelp escaped Ilic, followed by another sob, as the Duke started thrusting. On normal days the Duke’s cock would hurt without anything to lubricate. But now—with Ilic’s ass and thighs bruised and his entire weight resting on the already dislocated shoulders—each thrust felt as if he was pushing not his dick, but a sword into Ilic’s ass. And no matter how much Ilic whimpered and sobbed, the Duke did not let go of him.
His hands, now strong and with an iron grip, rested on Ilic’s hip, holding it firm so he could thrust into him.
“You still feel amazing, my Love,” the Duke whispered. His voice was breathless now and still tinted with this cold anger, he was carrying with him, as the pain was ripping through Ilic’s body.
“Please.” Ilic drew a shaky breath to keep down a whimper. “Please, your Grace. Please…”
“I can’t.” Another quick thrust. “You have left me no choice.” Another one. “You did this to yourself, my sweet Ilic.”
More tears were running over his face. He was strong, God damn it. He was a fighter. But right here, right now, he was completely unable to do anything against this man. If the man decided to still kill him, he would be dead. Because that was just how the world worked. The man had decided Ilic would suffer—and so suffer he would, until the Duke made the decision that it was enough.
Once more Ilic just lost all sense of time, but between his sobs there was a sigh, as he could feel the Duke ejaculate into him.
As the man pulled out of him, he too sighed. “See, my Love? We got through it.” There was a rustling of fabric again, as the Duke pulled up his trousers. Only then did he go around Ilic, cupping his face with his hands. “Oh, my sweet Ilic. Will you know now, where your place is?”
“I…” Ilic looked at him, unsure what would come next. He swallowed, his mouth dry, even with all those tears. “Yes, your Grace.”
A smile showed on the Duke’s face, though it was still a very dangerous smile. “Good.” He watched Ilic for a long, long while. A long while, that was made even longer by the pain. “You have to be thirsty, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Ilic admitted.
“I will get you something to drink.” With that the Duke just went over to the door, opening it and stepping out, once more locking the door behind himself and leaving Ilic alone with his pain.
Even now the tears were still running and he just was not able to help it. He was just hanging there, his feet so uselessly on the ground and unable to hold him up properly. He did not even know how long he was supposed to last this way. Because he was already certain, that there was no escape.
Maybe the Duke would still leave him to die like this… And maybe death was gonna be the easy escape in the end.
After what felt like an eternity, there were his steps again. The duke’s steps. Once more the door was unlocked and when the duke stepped in this time, he brought a tray with him. On it some fresh bread, some soup and a jug filled with water.
“See, I have thought of all your needs,” the Duke said. “My sweet Ilic.” He poured some of the water into a glass and bringing it to him. Roughly he pulled Ilic up by his hair, to pour the water into his mouth, still leaving him time to swallow though. “Isn’t that better?”
Ilic managed a weak nod. “It is.” And yet he could not help a whimper.
“What is it?” The Duke caressed his cheek once more. “You can tell me.”
And then Ilic could not hold it back any longer. “Please unbind me. I cannot take this much longer. I… Please. Your Grace. It… It hurts so much.”
There was a sort of calculation with which the Duke touched Ilic’s shoulder, making him whimper once again. “I know.” Yet, he did step around Ilic once more, getting out a knife by the sound of it. The tension vanished too quickly for Ilic to react, as he fell down onto his knees, then his chest, just lying there, trembling from fear and pain.
The Duke cut the rope that was holding Ilic’s wrists together, then the one between his ankles. Only then did he kneel down next to him. “I think your shoulders are dislocated, my Love.”
‘You think?’ Ilic wanted to spit, but instead he just breathed shakily.
“Come, sit up,” the Duke said, helping him to do so, though he was yelping again, as his weight was now on his bruised ass. “Oh, my Love.” The Duke pressed a kiss into Ilic’s hair. “I am going to have to relocate your shoulders now, do you hear me?”
Ilic did not reply, he just nodded, even though he was not even certain this fucking bastard did even know how to do such a thing. But when the man took his right arm first and pulled it in front of him, a scream of pain escaped him as the joint snapped back with a loud crack.
“I know, my Love,” the Duke whispered, pressing another kiss against Ilic’s forehead. “But I gotta do the other arm as well.”
It was not as if Ilic had still the energy to fight against it. He just let it happen, not even realizing his own scream. His mind was slowly starting to blank out, as the Duke helped him over to the rather simple bed that was in this room, easing him onto it.
Yet, the Duke sat down next to him, pulling the tray close. “Open your mouth,” he instructed.
“What?” Ilic breathed.
“Open your mouth. You cannot yet use your arms after being suspended like this for so long. And you need to eat, my Love.”
Ilic looked at him. He looked at those golden eyes, that were so full of calculation. Cold eyes they were. Like predator watching its prey.
But what was Ilic to do? He knew that the Duke was right. He needed his energy. He needed to eat. And so he opened his mouth, allowing for the Duke to dunk a piece of bread into the soup and put it into his mouth.
“See?” The Duke smiled. “We are getting through it.”