Lady Meriwyn's Punishment

by Renee Rose

  Again the strap came down. This time he looked at her face afterward. She turned hers sharply away from him, wishing she had some way of hiding it. The leather bit into her tender flesh again and she began to weep. He continued to whip her, pausing between each stroke so that the pain was fully reverberating before the next one fell. It was horrible-- not just the searing pain, but the humiliation of it. She was not counting, but she guessed he had delivered a dozen or so strokes when he paused. “Do you hide things from your husband, Meriwyn?” he asked quietly. There was no malice or anger in his tone, but she still heard the warning notes.

  “No, sir.” She shook her head emphatically on the bed through her tears. “Never. I will never hide anything from you again,” she sobbed.

  She thought she saw his face soften, but he delivered another searing stripe across her raw orbs. “Do you lie to your husband, Meriwyn?”

  Again she rolled her head from side to side. “No, sir!”

  Again he brought the strap down on her unprotected bottom.

  “Do you submit to his authority over you?

  “Yes, sir!” she gasped. “Please, Conrad! I'll be good. I'll never question your judgment again!”

  He lowered the strap and looked at her. Through her tears, she saw pain in his eyes. “You do question my judgment, don't you?” It was if he was just realizing it now that she'd put words to it.

  “No! No, sir. Please,” she begged him, still sobbing, tensed and waiting for the next stripe.

  He tossed the strap onto the bed, but did not release her ankles. He gave her five hard slaps with his hand, which should have been a relief after the strap, except that her bottom was so raw and sore that even a caress would pain her. She jerked and sobbed. “Forgive me, Conrad. Please.”

  He nodded, running his hand lightly over her burning cheeks, his thumb brushing her sex. “I forgive you,” he said grimly.

  She blinked at him through her tears. She didn't believe him.

  .

  Chapter Four

  He sat down on the bed beside her and pulled her onto his lap and into his arms. She did not hide from him this time. Instead, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, choking him as her tears wet his neck. He rubbed her back and kissed her head. “I love you, Meriwyn,” he whispered and she clung more tightly.

  The spanking had not gone as he'd planned. He had intended to punish her gently-- to not frighten her, but rather, to show her that he was a fair and just disciplinarian. He wanted her to understand that she could trust him. After all, it was her concern with his meting of discipline that had caused their rift. Yet she'd refused to bend to his will until he showed her his full dominance. Now she was so completely submitted to him he doubted he could pry her arms from him if he tried. But if his dominance made her even more afraid of his punishments, then it had failed its purpose. She needed comforting, but his instinct told him she also needed to him remain dominant, else her own pride would rise again and she'd feel humiliated and angry by the way he'd spanked.

  He stood and carried her to the head of the bed, where he laid her down. She did not settle into the the bed, though, but sat up anxiously, the remnants of her crying still causing her to sniffle and hiccup. He pulled off his tunic, then sat to unlace his boots. Meriwyn scrambled off the bed to do it for him.

  “Nay, Meriwyn. Get back in the bed,” he ordered, pulling one boot off.

  Her fingers worked the laces on the other boot. He stopped her by cupping her chin and lifting her face to his. “Obey me, wife,” he commanded, holding her eyes with a challenge.

  She stared at him for moment, then swallowed and crawled slowly back into the bed.

  “I'm sorry, Conrad,” she whispered.

  “I'm not angry with you, Meriwyn. I told you that you were forgiven and I meant it.”

  She started crying afresh and he laid beside her and held her to his chest, stroking her thick hair and murmuring to her. “It's all right. Everything is going to be all right.”

  After a time she quieted again and he brushed her hair back to try to see her face. “It takes courage to submit to your husband,” he praised her. Her head came out of its hiding place against his chest and she blinked at him with her long wet lashes. The vulnerability he saw there tugged at his heart. He felt gratitude for the gift of her submission and with it came a fierce need to protect. She was his now more than she had ever been before and he absolutely cherished her. He traced her cheekbone with his thumb and gazed at her with all the warmth of his love. As he held her gaze, the anxiety faded from her face and she settled her head down on his shoulder as if she were basking in the glow of his affection. Her eyes blinked slowly and then closed, so he traced first her eyebrows and then her delicate eyelids. Tomorrow they would not be so red.

  He woke in the morning to the feeling of her hand reaching inside his leggings grip his cock, which stood up with a surge of approval. He groaned and reached for his beautiful wife, but she was already crawling down between his legs. He groaned louder when he realized her intention. Unfortunately, nature was calling. “Wait, love,” he grunted, rolling out of bed to use the chamber pot. When he turned back to her, he caught his breath. She was sitting up on the bed, still completely naked from her punishment the night before. Her cheeks had the flush of sleep and her hair cascaded over her shoulders in rich waves. Her ample breasts stared at him, irresistibly beckoning his hands and mouth.

  He pulled his leggings off and walked back to the bed. “Actually, little wife, I'm not through with your punishment,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

  Her eyes shot to his face and though her expression was wary, her nipples stood erect, showing she understood the nature of the chastisement he had in mind. He crawled up on the bed, his hands automatically reaching for her breasts, cupping and squeezing as he pushed her onto her back. He straddled her and gripped a nipple between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. “Now...let's review what we discussed last night,” he said, starting to squeeze the nipples. “Does a wife hide things from her husband?” he quizzed, maintaining the pressure on the hardened tips of her perfect breasts and starting to lift just a bit.

  “No, sir!” she gasped, arching toward him to relieve the pull.

  “Does she lie to her husband?”

  “No, never.” Her eyes watered a bit and he slowly released the nipples.

  “Good girl,” he said softly. He moved off her and rolled her onto her belly. The lower half of her bottom was well-marked from the strapping he'd given her, dark purple stripes giving evidence to the intensity of her chastisement. He stroked her bottom and she tightened her cheeks. He gave her the lightest of slaps. “None of that,” he warned. “For this chastisement, you must never tighten against me. You will take it like a good girl.”

  Meriwyn lay seemingly frozen, listening to his words. He pulled one of the blankets out from underneath them and bunched it up, lifting her hips and stuffing it under. She made a little squeaking sound. He gave her bottom another soft slap. “Lift this for me, Meriwyn.”

  She obeyed and he slid his fingers between her legs, not surprised to find she was already wet for him. His cock hardened even more. “Mmm,” he purred as he stroked her honeyed slit, feeling it grow even hotter and more moist under his touch. He slid two fingers inside her, using his other hand to pull back on her hips so the angle was ideal. He searched her welcoming passage for the tissue that hardened under the tips of his fingers and when he found it, was rewarded with eager sounds from his wife. He picked up his tempo, plunging against that sensitive area as he pressed his thumb against her back hole. She squealed in surprise and clenched her cheeks. He withdrew his hand to slap her sweet bottom-- two hard smacks that caused her to yelp and jump out of position. “What did I tell you?” he growled, pulling her hips all the way up so that she stood on her knees and elbows.

  She made a little moan of protest. He caressed the red splotchy mark he had just made with his slaps and heard a sof
t “mmm” sound.

  “That's right, little wife,” he encouraged. He slipped his fingers inside her again and she immediately let out a mewl of satisfaction. He loved how expressive her sounds were. It was easy to judge when he on the right track with her. He rested his thumb over her back hole to ready her before he pushed in again. She whimpered when he did, but did not tighten. “Good girl,” he murmured. He pressed a little farther and her sex grew more slick and swollen. He worked both holes, penetrating first one, then the other alternately. Her cries grew needy, but he stopped and withdrew his fingers before she climaxed. “Not yet, love. Not yet.”

  He moved to mount her, parting her cheeks and dribbling a little saliva on the little flower he would soon be stretching wide. She tensed at the sensation, but didn't squeeze. He stroked both hands down her two cheeks, squeezed and then pulled them wide. Meriwyn rested her head on her arms.

  “Are your arms tired, love?” He nudged her back to her belly. The balled up blanket was still there, lifting her hips enticingly. The angle was perfect and he murmured soothingly to her as he pushed his cock into her small, tight hole.

  She made a whining sound. “It hurts!” she protested.

  He stopped pushing and reached around in front of her, making circles around her small nub of pleasure.“It's supposed to hurt,” he said with mock sternness.“It's your punishment. Now open to me.”

  He slowly pushed deeper and she relaxed, allowing him. As he carefully moved in and out, he kept his fingers working. Again her responses grew in pitch and intensity until they became a keening cry, but again, he scolded. “Not yet. Not until I tell you,” he ordered.

  She groaned in protest and he picked up his speed, driving to his own delicious climax. When he reached it, he croaked as he spilled his seed, “Now, Meriwyn!” She cried out and spasmed, her muscles squeezing so tightly he had to withdraw. He collapsed on the bed beside her, catching his breath as he pulled her into his arms.

  When they both had quieted, he kissed her tenderly. Then he drew away and looked into her face, and lost his breath. She was looking at him with wide, shining eyes. It was a look of submissive adoration, as if he meant everything to her. Overcome with emotion, he kissed her again, more passionately this time, aggressively possessing her mouth with his lips and tongue. He pulled away and kissed her forehead, her eyelids and cheeks. Then he smiled down at her. “What say you, Meriwyn? Can you trust me to punish you fairly now?”

  She blushed and started to turn her face toward the bed, but he cupped her cheek and held her in place. “Will you?”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  “Good,” he said smiling wickedly. “Because that was so pleasurable, I've decided I'm not through with you yet.”

  She looked at him questioningly.

  “After supper tonight, I want you to take off you clothes and stand in the corner to wait for your punishment.” He lifted his eyebrows with challenge. “Will you obey, Meriwyn?”

  She swallowed, but a small smile curled her lips. “Yes, sir,” she answered sweetly.

  He chuckled and kissed her again, getting up off the bed. “Come, love, before we miss breakfast.”

  Conrad waited until she was dressed before he opened the door to allow Henic and Hunwald in to serve him. As they entered, Meriwyn realized with a sick feeling that from their customary sleeping place outside their door, they had mostly likely heard the morning's activities. Worse still, they had most likely heard her spanking the night before. As she felt her face get hot, she gave them both a severe look. Conrad caught it and also turned a stern face to the boys, as if warning them it was no time for the teasing looks they sometimes gave him.

  Thankfully, the boys were suitably respectful. She hesitated at the door, feeling unaccountably shy about going out into the world without Conrad.

  “Wait for me, love, and we'll go together,” he said, seeming to understand. He took her hand in his large warm one and led her down the spiral stairs to the Great Hall. Her bottom was sore-- nay, it was throbbing. Well, the back hole where Conrad had just taken her was throbbing and the area where she sat felt achy and swollen. Sitting on the hard wooden bench for breakfast was going to hurt. She felt so strange, so different-- as if she was an entirely different person than she'd been the day before. She'd been punished and used hard by her husband, yet she felt quite loved. Indeed, he seemed careful with her this morning, as if she required his protection. She recalled the way she had seen Princess Tova and the prince that night after he'd punished her. She'd stayed meekly tucked at his side, and he'd staunchly kept an arm around her.

  She sat down as slowly and gingerly as she could manage without calling attention to herself and Conrad watched and then patted her knee under the table. It wasn't sympathy, exactly, but it was better than him gloating or finding it amusing. She looked down at his large hand resting on her thigh. That hand knew every inch of her body. A tiny shiver ran up her spine and she felt a throb in her sex thinking of it. She wondered what he could possibly have in mind for her tonight. It was odd how the idea of standing naked in the corner waiting for his instruction was now an arousing, rather than infuriating idea. How much she'd changed in just one night.

  He kissed her forehead after breakfast and bid her goodbye until dinner. She watched him leave, already missing his presence beside her. She spent the day spinning and weaving with the women, doing her best to ignore her sore bottom. By supper, she had little flutters of excitement in her belly about her further “punishment.”

  Conrad smiled at her warmly when she joined him at the high table, but he grew serious when Anna appeared. It was the first he'd seen Anna since hearing about her fight the night before.

  “Anna,” he said sternly. “I understand you are responsible for that bruised eye I saw on Redwald.”

  Anna's eyes widened and she looked at Meriwyn with an expression of horrified betrayal.

  “Nay, it wasn't--” Conrad started to say, but Meriwyn interrupted.

  “It wasn't right of me to hide things from your father,” she said firmly.

  Conrad gave her a tiny smile but turned back to Anna. “What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?”

  Anna flushed. “I'm sorry, Papa.”

  “Why did you hit him, Anna?”

  “He called me a tomboy and said I'd never have a husband because I'll never be a proper lady,” she said with quiet resentment.

  Meriwyn guessed that remark had come close to a real worry for Anna. She would speak with the child later about it-- not all little girls love to sit by the hearth or weave at the loom. She didn't see any harm in Anna's interest in weapons and hunting. There would be time enough to prepare her for marriage in the years to come.

  “Just because I bested him with the sling,” she added.

  Conrad did not smile. “I don't care if he told you that your Papa's a pig's arse, you don't start fights.”

  “Yes, sir,” Anna muttered, her eyes lowered.

  Conrad said nothing, but just looked at his daughter for a long stretch, allowing the tension between the three of them to build.

  Anna lifted her eyes to his again. “It won't happen again, Papa, I promise.”

  Conrad sighed. “Be sure that it doesn't.”

  Relief showed on Anna's face as she correctly deduced that she was not going to be punished. “Yes, sir,” she said enthusiastically.

  “And Anna--”

  “Aye?”

  “Do not resent your mother-- it was not she who told me and she has paid the price for her deceit,” he said.

  Meriwyn went ice cold before a furious heat flushed through her limbs. How dare he? To speak of punishing her in front of his daughter-- at the high table, no less-- was, well-- unforgivable. Inexcusable. He had demeaned her, lowered her to the level of a child, flaunted his authority over her. She was so angry she could not speak. She barely made it through the meal, though her unbearable husband didn't seem to notice. As soon as the king s
tood she leaped to her feet and departed the Great Hall as quickly as she could.

  She paced their chamber, her anger growing by the minute. She felt like the worst kind of fool for accepting his punishment like a meek little mouse the night before. He had treated her abominably. She glared at the corner where she'd stood with her bare bottom facing him. She would die before she stood in that corner for him again! What was she to do? Last night he had suggested she sleep downstairs with the serfs. Well, she'd rather do that than submit to him ever again.

  “No help tonight, lads,” she heard Sir Conrad say in a jolly voice to Hunwald and Henic. Right. He believed she'd be standing naked in the corner waiting for him. She glared as the door opened and he came through.

  He may not have noticed at supper, but he was not a fool now. “What is it, Meriwyn?” he asked, a cautious look on his face.

  “You may stand in the corner yourself to see how you like it, but I will not be treated that way!”

  “What's happened that has you upset?” he asked.

  Stubbornness made her loathe to explain her temper. “Never you mind,” she snapped. “And don't worry-- I won't stay here to offend. I'll be sleeping with the serfs, as you suggested.” She headed for the door, but he blocked her path, folding his arms across his chest and looking as immovable as an ox.

  “Nay. You'll sleep where I tell you to sleep, Meriwyn,” he said quietly. “Why are you so angry?”

  She darted quickly around him but he caught her arm as she passed. She twisted around in his grasp.

  “Meriwyn-- stop! I'll hurt you.”

  She turned and glared at him. “Aye, you have no problem hurting me, do you?” she hissed.