The Prince and his Double

By Master Gilbert

Published on Aug 4, 2024

Gay

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All characters and events in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real events or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Though this work of fiction may contain sexual situations and/or sexual acts between adults, neither the author condones such situations and/or acts. This work was inspired by the movie, The Devil's Double.

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The Prince and his Double... Chapter 1, Nim Seydi (Yes Sir)

My father was a trades man. He was proud, stoic, and stern. All the men in our family are expected to join the King's Army at 18. We are not allowed girlfriends while in school. "This time in your life is for study." My father would always say.

That is not to say we don't have sex. In fact, at 16 my father took me with him on a buying trip and while we were staying in Dubai, he took me to my first brothel. He told me to let the woman do all the work and to remember that I am a man and only my pleasure is important.

Once I was back home, my older brothers would take me with them to parties or bars and there they would often pick up women to take back to the family compound and fuck. A lot of times it would be the four of us (I am the fourth of six sons, three older and two younger, no sisters.) taking turns on one or two women.

My brothers would always tease me I wasn't fucking the whore hard enough, or I was letting my feelings get in the way of a good fuck. I didn't really care because in the end, I was fucking for me, not them.

I remember this one party after Amir, my oldest brother, came home from his army tour. The four of us went out to a bar. Amir was drinking a lot and smoking some cigars that father gave him as a gift for completing his tour and upholding the family honor. Amir wouldn't let any of us have a cigar, so we sat around smoking the hookah and watching him as he picked out the woman he wanted.

Amir was like a hunter. He picked this woman with long black hair and a really tight gold dress. We all knew she was a prostitute but who cared. We had money and Amir was here to celebrate. He took her back to the compound and we all sat backed and watched as he shoved his cock into her mouth and then leaned back with his cigar and face fucked her.

She was gagging and crying, and he never stopped. Amir slid his hand under her dress and then turned her around, so she was facing us and started fucking her without even taking her dress off. He had hands on both sides of her hips, pulling her down forcibly on his cock as he leaned back on the lounge chair. He was the picture of what father said a true son of Allah should be.

But this story isn't about Amir. It's not about my father, or my brothers, Nasir and Mohammed. This story actually starts after I joined the King's Army. This story is about me, Abdulbari.

My training didn't take that long. After only about 4 months, I was stationed at a fort just outside Bagdad. It was a special assignment, and all the other members of my unit came from the bigger, more wealthier families. We wore the classiest uniforms and were mainly there for royal duties. That meant that when we weren't on duty, we were in the city partying.

Being the sons of wealthy families, we knew where all the best bars were, nightclubs, and brothels. To make matters even better, we would go out in uniform which meant no one bothered us. Even the local police wouldn't mess with us. There were a few things we couldn't do, mainly drugs, but the rest was fair game.

It was while I was out with my unit one night at a local night club that I met the prince. I was getting a lap dance, smoking a cigar, and drinking whiskey when he came up next to me and sat down. I should have stood up, but I was too drunk, and my cock was buried in a whore's cunt.

"You look like you're having fun brother." The prince said as he sat down and pointed at his crotch. A whore was on her knees sucking his cock before he could even get his cigar lit.

"I'm sorry your highness?" I questioned.

He did a double take, then laughed. "No, it's me that should apologize. I thought you were my older brother."

I didn't know what to say and so he and I sat there in silence while we both had whores on our cocks.

After my unit and I left the brothel, all we could talk about was the prince and him thinking I was his brother, the crown prince. I kept getting my back slapped and the guys kept asking me questions about what the prince was like. I couldn't really say, we didn't really talk. It was a remarkable story, and I was telling it for weeks.

Then one day I was called into the commander's office. I made sure my uniform was crisp and shoes spotless before knocking on his door. Once I entered, I stopped in front of his desk and saluted waiting for him to look up and acknowledge me. After being saluted back, I relaxed a little and noticed that there were a few other men in the room. All dressed in expense suits, wearing expensive watches and jewelry, they were obviously well-connected men.

"Abdulbari, these men are here to ask you a few questions." My commander said without looking up from his paperwork.

The men asked me about my family, about my father, and about how strongly I felt about duty. The questions were direct and made me uneasy. But I did my best to answer them. After the men left, I asked my commander what this was all about.

"You are being considered for a special assignment as a Palace Guard. It's a great honor." He said very dryly.

About three days later, my father came to see me. Now that might not be strange to some, but my father never visited any of my brothers when they were in the King's Army. He was a busy man. He had businesses to run and deals to broker. But he came to see me.

"You are going to bring great honor to us son," he started. "The King sent me a letter to tell me that he was taking you for the Palace Guard and that you will become one of his Household." My dad smiled.

He left later after having presented me with a family ring, box of Cuban cigars, and a very nice bottle of American whiskey. These were the same gifts he gave each of my brothers after they completed their military service. But father gave them to me now, during my service. I was so proud.

That next day, I reported to the palace with my gear and was escorted directly to the commander of the Household Guard. From there I was taken to the barracks that were located under the main building. My new uniform was already waiting for me, and an officer was as well.

It was this officer's job to orientate me to my new duties and responsibilities. He went through guard duty schedules, daily routines, and training objectives. He was talking extremely fast, and I was glad when he handed me a printout with everything he was talking about.

Just then the doors opened, and the rest of my unit came in and surrounded me.

"He looks just like him" I heard one of the guys say as I was being greeted by each of them.

Palace life isn't easy. We are up early. Guard Duties are around the clock. Sometimes we are out at training for twelve hours, then we must get ready for a 6-hour guard duty. The physical training is extensive. We must stay in perfect shape because we are seen in the palace.

Almost a month into my new post, I was finally presented to the King. All Palace Guards are presented, and we are expected to kneel and kiss the Ring of State. Then we are to stand and salute until the King salutes back. After my presentation, I was taken into a room off the throne room and told to wait.

His Majesty, the Crown Prince, and a few other men came in and I was told to stand at attention. I was looked at and inspected and I just assumed this was all part of the assignment. That was until I heard the King say, "He will be perfect."

Everyone left except one man, he stayed behind and after the door closed finally spoke. "You are Abdulbari?" he asked.

"I am" I replied.

"You have been selected for a special duty. Your family has been told and as of today, Abdulbari is dead." He started. "From now on, you will simply be known as Ahmad. You are to become the Crown Prince's double. You will be his bodyguard and stand in. When in public, you will keep your face covered when accompanying the Crown Prince. The public should never know of your existence. You do not exist. You will perform royal duties as needed and assist the Crown Prince in carrying out his duties. To that end, you will be expected to serve the Crown Prince and Royal Family until such time as it becomes impossible or unnecessary."

Before I could speak, I felt a sharp pain and passed out.

I woke up with no idea of time or place. I was in a hospital room. My face was wrapped in bandages, and I was sore all over. I couldn't move, but I wasn't restrained, it must have been some kind of drug in my IV. I couldn't see much but the hospital room was better than any hotel room I had ever seen. It was a room fit for a prince.

Shortly after coming too, the man that had read me my duties and responsibilities came into the room. "Do you remember me?" he asked. I nodded.

"I am the Chief of Security for his Majesty the King. It is my duty to ensure you are professionally trained to become the Crown Prince for public appearances, and that you understand your duties when living in the palace. You will be treated very well by the household staff. You will have duties to perform, but those will not interfere with your primary duty, serving the Crown Prince. You will live in an apartment with a private door into the Crown Prince's Suite. You will be on call at all times of the day and night. And when the Crown Prince wishes to go into public and have you accompany him, you will make sure your face is covered at all times." He paused for a breath.

He spoke in a very authoritative manner. There was never any question, he meant every word. All I could do was nod between statements.

"You parents were notified of your death in a training accident and received a very generous bereavement payment and note from His Majesty the King."

Again, I nodded wondering if they would really care being a middle son.

"Do you have any questions?" he asked and paused, looking at me.

I tried to talk but my mouth was really dry, so I shook my head.

"One of the procedures that was done to help you look more like the Crown Prince was to have all your teeth pulled and dentures, identical to the Crown Prince, made for you to wear." The man pointed to a box next to the bed and my tongue immediately darted along my gums and confirmed the missing teeth.

"Minor plastic surgery was done to make your face and body more like the Crown Prince. Most notably, several scars were duplicated and a small birthmark on your thigh. The Crown Prince was also overly critical of your penis, so it has been pierced and locked into a chastity devise."

I was just starting to be able to move and I did my best to feel my cock, but all I could feel was a cold metal cage. "The Crown Prince wanted me to remind you that you serve at his pleasure and as his double and as such, the royal family can not tolerate you fathering any children. To that end, the Crown Prince thought it was more merciful to allow you to keep your penis and cage it." The man had a very dissatisfied look on his face.

"I recommended removing your cock and balls." He added.

"You will be allowed another week here in the royal hospital, but your face will stay bandaged until you are brought to the palace. At that time, there will be a trainer there to help you learn to walk and talk like the Crown Prince as well as techniques on service and serving the Crown Prince."

"Any questions?" the man asked again, and I croaked a raspy no. He turned, and left and I passed out again, more from the amount of information and drastic changes than from the drugs.

The next week went by fast. Every day I felt better, and I was treated very well with tasty food and attentive nurses. A woman came in and manicured my nails one day. She was beautiful and when I started to get a little aroused, I was quickly reminded of the chastity cage and my cock hurt horribly.

At the end of the week, I was given civilian clothing to put on and two uniformed palace guards escorted me, with my face still covered, back to the palace. Once there I was brought into the suite for the Crown Prince and told to kneel.

After a few minutes, the Crown Prince Mohammad came into the room in a robe over his swimsuit with a cigar in his hand. He flopped down on the couch and motioned with his hand causing one of the guards behind me to remove the face covering.

Prince Mohammad stood up and walked around me. He motioned again and the guard told me to remove my shirt, so I did.

The prince traced the newly created scars on my shoulder and back. Then he finally spoke, "Stand up slave."

I was shocked to be called slave. But I knew to follow his commands and I quickly stood up.

"Remove your pants." He spoke again.

I was ashamed but I did it quickly. The prince again walked around me but this time he pointed at the chastity cage and laughed. "You will never sire children now slave." He added through his laughter.

"Open your mouth" the prince commanded.

I opened my mouth and stood there. The prince looked making me smile and grin before reaching into my mouth and removing the dentures. After laughing and showing them to the guards that were there behind me, the prince put his fingers into my mouth, feeling my gums.

I felt extremely uncomfortable and pulled away from the prince. The prince only had to look, and the guards grabbed me by the upper arms and bent me over the coffee table. Then one of the guards removed his leather belt and handed it to the prince.

Putting his cigar in his mouth, he took the belt and brought it down across my ass. "You are my slave." the prince said, as he swung again causing me to cry out. "You will never pull away from me or deny me anything I want." Swinging again with the belt. Then I felt the stinging. The prince had put his cigar to my butt cheek and burned me.

The prince threw the belt down and walked across the room puffing his cigar back to life. Once he was gone, the guards picked me up and carried me to a door that looked like a full-sized mirror. Once through the door, I could see this was my apartment. But that was a loose term.

My apartment looked like a room I once saw at the brothel. It was filled with toys, sex furniture, a small prison cell, and in the second room was a large bed with sheets that were black and shiny, not like cloth, but what I assumed was leather.

The guards put me into the cell and locked the door. Inside the cell was a single cot, a metal toilet and sink combo, and nothing else.

"The trainer will be here in about an hour." The guard said as he left the room. All I could do was look at the room, the cell, myself and wonder what I had agreed to. This was not what I thought it would be.

Please direct any comments or ideas for this story to lthrcigarmstr@hotmail.com

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