by Jane Henry
“We will have honesty between us, Svali.” A second sharp smack follows the first, then another, the ringing sound echoing in our chamber. I close my eyes. I will do my best not struggle or fight him. I will take my punishment, allow my transgression to be cleansed, and show him I will take the steps I need to trust him. I nod against the bed as he spanks me again, and again. “I do not wish to punish you, Svali. But if you disobey me, I will.” The swat lands at the crease of my thighs and bottom, the pain magnified in the most tender of places. He pushes my legs apart, so now I straddle his knee, a leg on either side of his large thigh, my sex pushed up against his buttery soft breeches. I tuck both arms under my chest on the bed, intent on lying still, determined to take my punishment. He does not speak for a moment, his palm landing in earnest. “You should have come for me. I would have protected you.” Another hard, zinging smack. With my sex pressed up against his thigh, I cannot help but feel desire kindling with each smack of his palm.
He pauses, pushing two fingers between my legs. “Your honey dampens your thighs, Svali. Does my punishment arouse you?”
I do not know how to answer. Though I am aroused, I am sorry for having disobeyed him, wishing for his pleasure above all.
“I…I do not know, my lord,” I say. His fingers move through my dampness, plunging into my core. I gasp. I could climax just like this, right over his knee, but I close my eyes and fight against the rising excitement.
I need to take my punishment.
His finger gently strokes higher up, my swollen nub pulsing against his firm touch. I spread my legs wider, unable to feel anything but my rising arousal. My breath catches, my mouth dry.
“Does this excite you, lovely? Being taken beyond what is comfortable? My strength over you, the mingling of pleasure and pain?”
“Yes…no…I don’t know, my lord!”
To my surprise, he chuckles. “It is hard to decipher at times, Svali. Even now, as I discipline you, my own desire stirs.” I feel it, too, his length against my side. I swallow, wishing he’d allow me to take him in my mouth again.
His fingers wrap around my hair, and he tugs my head to the side, his mouth next to my ear. “I must finish your punishment, though, lovely. You must learn your lesson, and not sneak or deceive again. I am going to give you a taste of my belt now.”
I swallow, my mouth dry, and I nod. He releases my hair and gently pushes my leg over his knee so that I lie on the bed. I hear him moving behind me, the jingle of his belt buckle ringing in the silence. “Up out of bed, Svali,” he says, his voice stern.
I obey, turning to face him, my pulse quickening at the sight of my strong, formidable husband with his leather belt. He hides the buckle in his hand, wrapping the leather around his fist, leaving a thick tail that dangles and makes me squirm.
“On your knees,” he orders, gesturing to the floor. I blink. What does he mean? He raises a stern brow. “You would defy me now, on the cusp of your punishment?”
I get to my knees slowly, my gaze never leaving his. The floor is cool but clean, a woven rug beneath my knees.
“Keep your arms stretched out in front of you.” He comes up behind me while I lie at his feet, my arms in front of me symbol of my devotion and obedience. I close my eyes in anticipation of the first bite of leather, my breath caught in my throat.
He dips low, and I feel him over me, his mouth at my ear. “Do you willingly place yourself before me?”
There is but one instinctive response, and my body acts of its own accord, hugging the carpet as I sink even lower in submission. “Yes, my lord.”
He touches the top of my head, his voice softer than I expected. “I will honor the gift you give me, lovely. It is beautiful to me.” Warmth, like the rays of a sun breaking through clouds on a warm summer day, floods my body. I do not know what has happened in our exchange, but this is no mere punishment. He has asked, I have given, and in so doing, this is no longer merely an act of retribution but a moment that will define us.
He moves behind me, his voice above my head. “You will take six strokes of my belt. And you will count each one, focusing on repentance and your submission to me.”
I swallow. “Yes, my lord.”
I would not allow another to punish me, and as I present my naked body before him, I am humbled but empowered. The warmth of the fire licks at my naked skin, the carpet somehow soothing beneath my cheek.
Lying below him like this, the symbolism is not lost on me. I am beneath him. But I have chosen this of my own accord.
As I lie below him, prepared to take the sting and burn of his punishing leather, I inhale.
Beneath his authority, I am powerful.
Tears run down my cheeks, my chest heaving as I hear the whizz of leather through the air. It lands with a harsh whap. It burns, but then the warmth of the lash suffuses my naked skin, and, in the quiet, I count.
“One, my lord.”
Warm, strong fingers caress my punished, skin but not for long, as he rears back and lashes me a second time.
“Two, my lord,” I say, my voice hoarse in the stillness.
I count three, then four, and, as the fifth lands, the harshest sting yet, I take it. I do not flinch or try to get away. “Five, my lord,” I whisper. There is nothing between us now as I lie beneath him, submitted.
The final lash lands firmly. “Six, my lord,” I choke.
It is finished. He drops his belt and kneels behind me, his whiskered kiss upon my heated flesh. As his mouth travels over my naked skin, my breasts swell, my nipples harden, and when he pushes my legs open, I am helpless to resist.
He fondles me, his fingers flicking between my folds. I gasp and writhe, before he removes his touch. He firmly turns me over so that my back is now flush against the carpet, my body molded beneath his. His heated breath brushes my ear. “You will take me, Svali. I have marked you, and now I will claim you once again.” He holds me close to him, his bare chest against mine, one knee prying my legs open.
“My lord,” I gasp.
“Will you disobey me again, lovely?” he asks, a thread of rebuke in his tone. At the corrective sound of his voice, my sex pulses beneath him.
“No, my lord,” I respond, a sob catching in my throat. “I will obey you!”
He releases me and kneels above me. Unfastening his breeches, he pushes them down his hips. His eyes never leave mine, as he lowers himself upon me, holding his large frame over me so he does not crush me. He nudges his cock at my entrance, the warm, silky feel of him making me catch my breath again.
Slowly, he enters me as his mouth comes back to my ear. “What will happen if you disobey me, woman?”
A quick thrust. I gasp as I respond. “You will punish me, my lord.”
Another push of his hips, and he nods. “Yes, lovely. You are mine. And, as mine, you will obey.” His mouth travels from my cheek to my neck, leaving a trail of whiskery, fluttery kisses. Each thrust of his hips spikes my heartbeat, his mouth on my neck making my nipples peak. I gasp as his teeth graze the sensitive skin around my collarbone, and, seconds after the sting, his tongue flicks out, the warmth making me near frenzied with desire.
“My lord,” I gasp. “I will obey. I trust you. And I am sorry!” My voice is a half-sob as he builds a rhythm, each thrust bringing me closer to climax. I grow closer and closer to my own release. His strong arms surround me as he buries his head on my chest. I clutch at his naked torso, overcome with the desire for release. “My lord,” I beg. “May I please?”
“Yes, lovely,” he says, and his permission is all I need. I topple over the edge, ecstasy suffusing my limbs, gasping for air like a woman drowning. He clenches seconds before his own climax, grunting in my ear as he holds me, his heated body glistening. I writhe beneath him as he draws every bit of pleasure from me.
I have come to this man as a sacrificial offering, intent on denouncing my very self for the greater good. But now, as he demands obedience and service to him, as he tears me apart only to put me tog
ether again, am I truly his in exchange, a beautiful completion.
“Now, lovely. It is time to rest. We have much ahead of us.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Idan
My lovely wife sleeps beside me. I like the feel of her naked, silky skin next to mine, a reminder that there is nothing now between us.
I did not like correcting her, but it had to be done. One might say punishment is not truly effective if she enjoys it. But I do not believe it is the actual spanking that brings her pleasure. She likes my strength over her and responds well to my authority. Though she is a fearless, tenacious woman, she gleans strength from voluntarily submitting to me.
I lightly touch her punished bottom. Little pink criss-crossed marks span her backside. She is not bruised, and the marks will not last, but she will remember this punishment, the one that cleansed her of her transgressions.
I hold her against my chest, drawing strength from the soft, beautiful woman by my side. Today we will determine the future of our planet.
Will the Avalerians hear the truth, that I did not, nor would I ever, threaten the life of King Aldric? We will present them with the truth, and I must trust all will be set to rights again. I clench my fists.
I could kill the man who would take my identity. He attempted to murder my king. He prevented me from getting back to the Avalerians, and he prevented my wife from returning to where she belonged. He would have had her jailed and kept apart from me.
I swallow. I must keep my temper in check. It would not do to slice his throat in the public arena.
He needs to suffer first.
“Husband, why does your body tense?” Svali murmurs, as she presses up against my side.
“I do not like dishonesty, Svali.”
She giggles softly. “You don’t say?”
I give her a teasing smack.
“Are you hungry, lovely?”
“Yes, my lord. Shall we go to the dining hall?”
I scan the length of her naked body before replying. “Yes.”
She grins and rolls over, her golden hair cascading across my chest. I could lie here beside this woman and neglect my duties, make sweet love to her noon and night, bringing her to ecstasy. I love to see her body rise to meet mine, the violet hue of her eyes soft and adoring.
“Yes. We will dress and eat something then check on your mother and your sister.”
“We must also check upon Ryken, and see how he fares.”
“He is doing well,” I reply. “I spoke with him this morning. He is well situated in the west wing, and, when everything that has transpired has settled, I will speak to Aldric about having him trained as a young warrior for the Hisrach.”
Her fingers go to mine, and she entwines them, her voice soft in the stillness. “You already checked on him?”
I nod.
“And you will have him trained as you have been?”
“Yes.”
She smiles. “He shall be a strong, capable warrior like you. He will thrive on Avalere.”
I have been a warrior most of my life. I have always taken my duties seriously. But I have never felt prouder to be a warrior than I am now, hearing her sweet praise.
“I wish to bring you to Aldric. We must be discreet, as many still believe I am a wanted criminal, and you my accomplice.” Our room is guarded, the imposter in jail on clear display to those who dare to look. Until I am cleared of all crimes, we must be careful.
After we have dressed, our food delivered on platters, we eat. My brothers in arms join us, prepared to walk us to the arena, where Aldric will address the Avalerians. We are taken to the carriage, and when we are only paces away from the seat, something hurtles through the air and nearly hits Svali. I grasp my sword hilt, prepared to defend her. A large stone lies by her feet. Aldric’s touches to my shoulder. “Do not make a move,” he orders. “They wish for you to act out, so they have a case against you. Let your brothers defend you.”
It is the hardest thing I have ever done, not drawing my sword to defend my wife. The minute the carriage comes to us, I push her in, almost roughly, but I grasp her to be sure she does not stumble. I come in behind her and sit her down, glowering at the small window that looks out upon the courtyard. I catch the last glimpse of a man being held by the scruff of his neck by Zadok, whose sword is drawn, the man shouting in our direction. Before Zadok pulls him from view, the man spits upon the ground. I sit back in my chair, glaring in front of me.
“This will all be over soon, husband. Please do not fret.”
“Fret?” I say. “Svali, I am a warrior of the highest order. I do not fret.”
Her lips quirk up at the edges, and her eyes dance, but her voice remains polite. “My lord, excuse my poor choice of words. I wish for you to relax.”
I exhale and meet her gaze. “I will relax when the bones of the man who seeks to overturn my throne lie in a grave. I will relax when the threat upon Avalere is once again put to rest.”
She touches my knee. My pulse slows. She does not need to speak. I close my eyes and inhale. Soon, this will be over.
It takes some time for all of us to arrive at the principal marketplace, the arena of Avalere. I wait as the warriors line our exit, shielding both me and Svali from the taunts and jeers of the crowd around us. A clear pathway leads to the chairs of the warriors. Just a short time ago, I chose my wife from the circle at this very spot. Her little hand reaches for mine and squeezes. She remembers. This is a special place for us.
The seats of the Hisrach are removed enough that no one can reach where we sit. My brothers join me, Aldric on my left, Zadok and Gregor and the rest of the men each sitting in turn. When we are seated, I take a moment to peruse the crowd of Avalerians assembled before us. There are as many as the eye can see, both those who live in my dominion and those in central Avalere with Aldric. Svali stands to the side, with the women of the Hisrach. She is well protected. Still, I wish she were by my side. Aldric looks at me. “She will be fine. It is your duty not to defend but to keep your head about you while we prove your innocence.”
I inhale and exhale. “Yes, my lord.” Would that the man who framed me for this stood before me now. I could see to justice with my own bare hands.
Aldric stands, and waits for the crowd to quiet before he speaks. “Avalerians, you come before us now, enraged with what has transpired. You are angry, because you believe the man who threatened to take my life sits now beside me.”
Jeers go up from the crowd, boos and hisses.
“Silence!” His deep voice rings out in the crowd, and they quiet. “You have been told lies. It is my duty as your king to unveil the truth. I assure you that there is no one I trust more with my life than the man who sits beside me now.” The crowd remains quiet, but I feel their eyes upon me. “Zadok! Bring forth our prisoner.”
Zadok stands, walks down the platform, and returns a moment later with two guards and a man in shackles. When I see the man, the hair on my arms stands on end. Have I been transported to an alternate reality? Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Do I stare in a mirror?
“What trickery is this?” I whisper to Aldric.
“I know not,” Aldric says. “Though sorcery can bring about such changes, none exist that would be so long-lasting.” The disguise my Svali used wore off within less than twenty-four hours.
“It is a trick!” someone in the crowd shouts. “We are being fooled!”
The man who would be me, his wrists shackled behind his back, shouts to the crowd. “You are fooled to think the man that sits beside your king is innocent! He is the one who attempted to murder your king!” The guard shakes the man into silence, but it is too late. The crowd is riled, shouting, on their feet shaking fists at me.
He could be my twin.
“He is my brother, taken from my home in my infancy. He was not killed, as we were led to believe. He has the very trick of speech and stature. It is Yosef.” As I speak to Aldric, the man turns to me, a leer upon his face.
> “Is that what you’d have them believe,” he says, but I can see it in his eyes. I have stumbled upon the truth.
Aldric frowns. “If he is your brother, there need not be a public trial, Idan,” he says, but he is interrupted.
“Long live the throne of Avalere!” someone in the crowd shouts. Aldric holds his hand up for order, and, though the crowd quiets, it takes longer than it previously did.
“The throne of Avalere has not changed!” His voice rings through the crowd, and they grow quiet, attention fixed on the king who has earned their trust and respect. “I have brought back the second throne so that we can better lead you, the people of Avalere. As our population grows, so does the need for good leadership and council. I have no doubt that the Duke of Avalere, Idan the warrior, will lead the people of the east with honor and dignity.”
Murmurs scatter throughout the crowd. Aldric gestures for me to stand. I do, going before the crowd. I However, there is only one pair of eyes I feel on me, the eyes that give me the courage to speak to the barely-controlled crowd.
“My people!” I shout, my voice carrying over the assembly. “When asked by King Aldric to assume the second throne, I accepted, as I am honored to aid the country I have dedicated my life to.” They listen in silence. “I hesitated at first, as I did not have a queen with whom to lead, and I have never assumed such a role.” My hand reaches out to Svali. “However, now that I have found my mate and we assume leadership of East Avalere together, I hope we can prove ourselves worthy of your loyalty and respect.” I pause, glaring pointedly at the man who betrayed us. “Some have gone to extreme measures to unsettle Avalere. Here before us stands an imposter. He is not a warrior of the Highest Order, not a member of the Hisrach, but rather one who merely looks like me.”
The buzz through the crowd increases. They are leery, unsure whether or not I speak the truth. The man stares at me, a lewd smile upon his face. My anger rises, heat flaming across my chest. How dare he attempt to take the life of my king? To thwart our efforts to unite the forces of Avalere?
