by Renee Rose
She was grateful that he did not laugh at her this time, and she nodded.
“You've not been spanked before?”
She shook her head. “Only a few swats as a child. Never with a strap.”
He smoothed her hair back from her face, but said nothing.
“Were you going to spank me with a strap?”
“No. I was going to use my hand.”
“The prince spanked Princess Tova with a strap.”
“I'm sure he did,” Conrad said. Then he made a shrugging motion, which was really just one shoulder, since he was lying on the other. “It's just a sore bottom, Meriwyn.”
The way her heart was beating in her chest said it was something far worse. “I don't want to be spanked,” she said in a small voice.
Conrad smiled at her fondly and touched her nose. “Then you'll have to be an obedient wife, won't you?”
“But what if I make a mistake? How will I know how not to displease you? We only just met four months ago.”
His mouth twitched a bit. “I won't spank you without giving you a warning first,” he promised.
“But what about today? You'd given me no warning.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “You needed a warning not to disobey the prince? Our lord and master?”
She felt her cheeks grow hot. “No, sir,” she mumbled.
“I thought not.”
“Will you only spank with your hand?” she asked hopefully.
He regarded her for a long moment. “I will spank you as I deem appropriate, Meriwyn,” he said firmly at she felt her belly flip.
She had nothing more to say to him, then, so she rolled over to face away. He rolled her back. “Nay, woman, what are you doing?”
Her lips trembled, though why she felt as though she might cry, she could not say. “Sir?” she managed.
He pulled her in closely against him. “You need not be afraid and you need not hide from me. Nothing's changed between us.”
She leaned her forehead against his hard chest and hid her face there. He was wrong--everything had changed.
Chapter Two
The intensity of Meriwyn's fear of chastisement was amusing, but Conrad had sympathy for the anxiety she clearly was experiencing. The best thing would be to get her past her first spanking so she would know it was not such a terrible thing. It had been a mistake not to punish her the day before. And now he had promised not to spank without issuing a warning, which would only delay that first event further.
He would keep a close eye on her. Ideally, he could find some small infraction and give her the mildest of punishments. She would see it was not so terrible and would relax.
But it was difficult with a wife who was already eager to please and now was deathly afraid of being punished. Several weeks went by before she seemed to forget her distress and return to her more lively state. Finally, at dinner one afternoon, she truly did irritate him.
Anna had rushed in late, and the King and prince were already seated before she slipped into her place on the bench next to him at the high table.
“Where have you been?” he demanded.
“In the courtyard, learning to sling with Henic,” she said breathlessly.
He frowned. She spent far too much time out of doors with the pages, when she should be playing dolls at the hearth. “Anna, it's time you stopped running around outside with the boys and spent more time with the ladies,” he said sternly.
“Nay, Conrad-- she's only eight years old! Let her enjoy her childhood while she can. She grows restless when she's inside for too long.”
He felt his neck grow hot with irritation at being contradicted-- not only in front of his daughter, but at the high table, no less, for all the courtiers to hear. Indeed, Sir Gallohan and Lady Gwenyth, who sat across from them at the table, had stopped their conversation to listen with interest. “Who is the master here?” he asked icily.
Meriwyn's eyes widened as she realized her mistake. “Forgive me, my lord,” she said, blushing.
He gave her a long stare before turning back to Anna. “Tomorrow you will stay with your mother,” he looked pointedly at Anna, who nodded, “and the ladies.”
Anna looked chagrined, but nodded obediently. “Yes, papa.”
Sir Gallohan and Lady Gwenyth lost interest in the interaction and began to talk anew. Meriwyn fidgeted a bit beside him. When the meal was over and they stood from their places, he placed a hand on the nape of Meriwyn's neck and pulled her close to him, speaking directly into her ear. “If you ever contradict me in front of my child or at the table again, you'll be spanked,” he said firmly. “Understand?”
He lifted his head from her ear to gaze in her eyes.
“I'm sorry. It won't happen again,” she said, her eyes filling with moisture. One tear escaped her eye and he caught it with his thumb and wiped it away before anyone could see.
“Don't cry. It will be all right,” he said more gently. “Just don't do it again.”
She shook her head quickly. “No, sir. I won't.”
“Thank you,” he said and released her, kissing the top of her head. “I'll see you at supper.”
She bobbed a curtsy as he turned to head out to the field where the prince had them running drills with the soldiers. He returned before supper and Henic and Hunwald helped him out of his armor and into a clean shirt. Meriwyn entered the room, looking agitated. He dismissed the boys and turned to her, expectantly.
“Yes, my lady?”
She was pacing the room, twisting her fingers around each other. She stopped and took a deep breath. “My lord--”
He raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“You do wish me to be a mother to Anna, do you not?”
He felt a thread of tension travel through him. He understood immediately where this was going. “Of course I do,” he snapped.
She frowned at him. “Well, how can I if I am not permitted to speak my mind?” she asked shrilly.
He pursed his lips. “Meriwyn, I did not mean to imply that you may not speak your mind about Anna's upbringing,” he said.
She stamped her foot, clearly too worked up to take in what he had said. “I'm the one who spends more time with her! I'm the one who knows what she needs!”
“You are the one who is acting like a child right now, and you may consider this your only warning. You will speak to me respectfully or you will find yourself over my knee,” he said evenly, though his ire was raised.
She pressed her lips together, the conflict between her anger and her fear of chastisement clearly warring in her countenance. A blush crept across her breast and up her neck and face and she bobbed the quickest of curtsies. “I'm sorry,” she mumbled so quickly it was almost unintelligible.
He looked at her with disappointment. The sound of the supper bell interrupted any further discourse. “We'll discuss it later,” he said shortly and held the door open for her.
She flushed an even deeper red and he noticed her lips were trembling as she passed him, though he guessed it was more from anger than regret. He said little to her at the light evening meal and then excused himself to make the rounds of the soldiers, checking to be sure all the guards were in their proper stations. When he finished, he climbed the spiral stone steps to landing at the top of the tower, where he could look out on the kingdom. He took a deep breath and sighed.
Meriwyn certainly was spirited. He was itching to spank that defiance right out of her, but with a new young wife, a more gentle hand was called for. It was his duty to correct her misunderstanding as quickly as possible. She believed she could not provide her input to the raising of Anna and was acting out of anger at that injustice. It didn't excuse her disrespect, but it did make it understandable. He waited until he was sure he was no longer angry or irritated before he headed back to their chamber.
Meriwyn had been pacing in their chamber since supper. Conrad had not returned after his night rounds. It was because he
was angry with her. She should not have stamped her foot and spoken so shrewishly to him earlier. He had told her that she would be permitted to provide her input to the raising of Anna, though she didn't see how she was meant to do so. Still, she should have allowed him to explain, rather than attack him with her sharp tongue.
Mayhap he would not return until he thought she was asleep. Or mayhap-- her heart stopped in her chest momentarily-- mayhap he would find another maid to bed that night. The thought made her sick. This was how marriages were corrupted. She'd seen it happen growing up-- a woman turned sharp-tongued and bitter and her husband took his pleasures elsewhere. Her eyes filled with tears. What had she done?
She understood, suddenly, what the princess had meant when she'd said that the prince's disappointment in her was the most horrible part. She stopped her pacing and stood still in her tracks, remembering the rest of Tova's story. That the spanking had not made it worse, but had resolved things between them. And she remembered how close they had looked when they came down the stairs together that afternoon. By Our Lady, what she wouldn't give to have that closeness with Sir Conrad again!
The door opened and her knight appeared, his face tired and somewhat saddened.
“My lord husband,” she said, taking a step toward him tentatively. “Please forgive me. I will accept your chastisement. I know I deserve it.”
A look of surprise flashed momentarily over his face and then disappeared and his expression turned blank. He crossed the room and sat down on the bed. She knelt at his feet to unlace his boots and when she felt his large warm hand on her head, she had to blink back her tears of gratitude. She washed and dried his feet and then sat back on her heels to gaze up at him.
“Come here,” he said softly and lifted her to stand. He pulled at the laces on her bodice. “Take off your clothes,” he commanded. Her heart beat faster as she obeyed, feeling more vulnerable under his watching eye than she'd even felt on their wedding night. Somehow, being undressed for a chastisement was a very different experience than being undressed for his pleasure. She awkwardly removed her clothing and stood before him, naked, shivering in fear and humility. He made her suffer a moment, simply looking at her and she dropped her eyes to the floor, studying the graying hay that covered the floors and noting abstractly that it ought to be changed soon.
He reached for her and pulled her across his lap, her torso resting on the bed. His large, callused hand stroked her bottom, raising goose pimples of anticipation. When she felt the warmth of his hand leave her bottom, she held her breath and tensed for the first sharp smack. She jumped with the impact and made a small cry. He took his time, applying slow, hard spanks so that the tingling sting of the last one was just starting to appear before the next one fell. She grit her teeth and held her breath, as if that would somehow help ward off the pain of his sharp slaps. After what seemed like an eternity, he paused and rubbed her heated flesh.
“Meriwyn, I am depending upon you to speak your mind about Anna's upbringing,” he said, but then started spanking her again before she could reply. She could hardly decipher his meaning, nor think how to answer while she was trying to manage the pain that he was creating all over her bottom.
“But you said--”
He spanked her even harder, interrupting. “I said you may not contradict me in front of her or others. You may speak your mind to me as oft as you like when we are alone.”
“Oh,” Meriwyn grunted, jerking in response to the steady slaps that were still falling on her sore bottom.
“Aye,” he said, still spanking harder than ever.
“But it would be too late to speak to you in private-- you had already made your decision,” she protested sulkily, turning her head so he could hear her. He paused the punishing slaps momentarily as she spoke, rubbing her stinging skin, but he began again as soon as she'd finished.
“I can change my mind,” he said mildly, a contrast to the harshness of his hand, which had started slapping again. “And I would not be ashamed to tell Anna that you've convinced me differently-- if you can.”
She wondered, fleetingly, how he was able to converse so easily as he spanked.
He continued, “It is not that a wife should not influence her husband, it is that it should be respectfully.”
His words sank in, and her remaining defensiveness cracked and then slipped away, lost in the confusion of following the explosions of pain on her burning backside. Mayhap she really had made a mistake. Something in her released and she went limp on his lap, truly surrendering to his punishment. Tears stung her eyes, but she held them back, taking huge sobbing breaths. Then, miraculously, he stopped and pulled her to stand, facing him. His hands kneaded her sore bottom and she whimpered softly, her legs shaking. She wasn't ready to stand, much less to look into her husband's face.
He pulled her onto his lap. “Come, little wife. You're forgiven. And now you've put your first spanking behind you.”
Embarrassed, she curled in tightly to him, the tears she had held back during the spanking starting to spill. As if he sensed it, he wrapped his arms more tightly around her and murmured soothingly, stroking her back and hair. She clung to him, not wishing to ever lift her head and look him in the face again, feeling humiliated and vulnerable in a way she had not experienced before. She wanted to be angry with him, but she needed his comfort more than her pride. And the truth was that being spanked had not as horrible as she'd imagined, not that she would tell him so.
He held her for a long time and then scooped her up and laid her in the bed, removing his clothes and curling his larger body around hers, whispering tender words. She woke in the morning to the feel of his hardened rod pressing into her backside and she pushed back in encouragement.
There was no trace of pain from the spanking the night before, but emotionally she still desperately needed her husband. She needed to know she was still loved despite her mistake, that she was still respected despite the fact that she'd been bent over his knee for such a humiliating punishment.
Conrad's large, warm hands caressed her, igniting a restless heat. She reached behind her and pulled his hips aggressively against her bottom. Conrad chuckled but didn't press inside her. Instead he gently rolled her onto her back. “I want to see your face when I make love to you, Meriwyn.”
She flushed but managed to look at him and gave him a shy smile. He turned serious, though his fingers wandered between her legs and were stroking her in a way that made her breath catch. “Please don't hide ever from me, Meriwyn. I'm your husband-- I'm the one person you need never hide yourself from.”
The heat in her cheeks seemed to be creeping across her neck and chest now too. She really did not want to talk about this. She wanted him to kiss her so she could close her eyes and give herself to him and forget about the awkwardness of the past night. Her eyes filled with unbidden tears. “What do you wish from me, Sir Conrad?”
He rolled on top of her, resting on his elbows, stroking her hair back from her face. “Nothing. Everything. I want all of you. I want you to feel safe with me, even if it's when I'm punishing.” He stared at her for a long moment and though it was difficult to look into his eyes, she saw complete love there. She blinked. “Are you afraid of me, Meriwyn?” he asked softly.
She considered the question. Had she ever been afraid of her husband? Nay. It was just the spanking she'd been afraid of, and that had not turned out to be so bad, after all. She shook her head slowly, locking gazes with him.
His mouth quirked into a small, satisfied smile and he leaned over to kiss her, his fingers renewing their exploration of her willing sex. She spread her thighs to invite his full pillaging and felt her heat rising as he slipped first one finger, then two inside her. She was making tiny whimpers by the time he finally pushed into her with his length, and she climaxed almost immediately, which made him chuckle with satisfaction. She gave herself to him with more enthusiasm than ever before and when she reached a second climax, moments aft
er his, it was an explosion of pleasure. Afterward, she lay on the bed and watched as her well-muscled husband dressed, unable to move her relaxed limbs to do the same.
“It wasn't so bad,” she said.
Conrad turned and looked at her incredulously.
She giggled, reading his mind. “I meant the spanking.”
He grinned and she realized he had known what she meant all along. He pulled his tunic on over his undershirt and leggings and bent over to kiss her. “I know.”
She went still. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head, smiling. “Nothing.”
“Was that not a real spanking?” she asked, stricken by a sudden fear.
He chucked her cheek. “It was a real first spanking,” he said, confirming her worries. “I'll see you at dinner,” he said, moving toward the door.
“Conrad--” she said in a strangled voice, all of the post-sex languor disappearing as she sat up in alarm.
He merely gave her a wink as he shut the door and she stared at it, her heart pumping a renewed anxiety through her body. She should have known-- a real spanking would not be with just his hand.
.
Chapter Three
“Fare thee well, sweet wife,” Sir Conrad said, giving her another quick peck on the lips before he mounted to ride escort to the prince on an errand to the neighboring kingdom.
“Be safe,” she said fervently, in a low voice so that the others wouldn't hear.
He cocked a grin. “Never worry about me, my heart. I promise I will always return.”
She frowned. “How can you be so sure? Do not tempt God with your cockiness.”
He sobered. “You're right.” He kissed her again. “It's just that I've always had the sense I would live a long life. But I promise I will be careful.”
She sighed with the small relief that brought her. “Thank you.”
Anna squeezed in for another hug, wrapping her arms around her father's waist. “I love you, Papa,” she said.
