Black Dorn [submission/punishment/bondage]

by Daryl Devore

  Not going directly at her button, he circled around, gently blew on it then wiggled his tongue at the base. She hissed. His tongue laved her clit changing long strokes to quick flicks.

  Everything focused in. Her breath deepened and came in gasps. Her hips flinched, but he held her, driving her through her surrender. He slid his way up the bed, rolled against her, wiped his face on the bed, wrapped an arm over her and held her as she reveled in her bliss.

  She fought sleep. She could feel him pressing against her back. He needed to be released. Forcing her eyes open, she pressed him onto his back and straddled his hips and slipped him inside. She raised and lowered her hips, sliding him in and out. Repositioning herself, she reached back and squeezed his seed sacs.

  He reached for her love button. She placed her hand on his. "No. This is for you."

  He lifted her off him, and laid her next to him. He rolled her onto her stomach and settled between her legs, pulled her hips up and thrust deeply into her. Each push was deep and hard and matched by a grunt. His force slamming against her, jostled her breasts. He arched. With one powerful thrust he released into her again. Branwyn’s arms buckled as she settled herself on the bed. Malack slipped out, lay down beside her, pulled up the blankets and closed his eyes.He had found what he was looking for--love. Tomorrow, Branwyn's former master would be dealt with.

  Chapter Six

  "Duncan, leave those alone." Malack's deep voice startled Branwyn from her sleep.

  "But Gon-Dra, I must—" He pulled back the bed curtain nearest Malack.

  "Duncan!"

  Duncan spit out his sentence. "But Gon-Dra, the gon wishes to speak with you. Now. He is here. Now!" Duncan jerked open the rest of the curtains, letting in the brilliant light of the day.

  Branwyn stifled a giggle at Malack's frustrated sigh. Untangling himself from her arms and legs, he sat up and rubbed his face. "What does he want?"

  "He wants to speak with his son."

  The voice was not Duncan's. Branwyn tried to slip deeper under the blankets, but they were pulled away. She found herself staring into the eyes of the gon.

  He smiled. "I see you have chosen."

  The door opened as Malack said, "Good day, Mother." Turning to Branwyn, he chuckled. "To Black Dorn I may be the gon-dra and a great soldier, but to them, I am still their son."

  His mother stood beside her husband. "You have chosen."

  "I have chosen Branwyn"

  A soldier stepped into the room. "Gon, a messenger from Uplands urgently wishes to speak with you."

  Malack hopped out of bed, tossed his tunic to Branwyn, and dressed. Hurrying to his father's court, he passed Duna Trea. He turned. "Branwyn is no longer is as she was. She is mine." Trea opened her mouth to speak. Malack raised his hand. "No Trea, she is mine."

  Trea nodded her head. "I will deal with her master."

  He continued down the hall.

  Branwyn remained seated on the bed. She looked about the room wishing someone would tell her what she should do. Malack's mother pointed to a closet. "Go. Relieve yourself then we will eat and talk. Duncan, bring food."

  Malack's mother sat in the chair he had occupied last night. Branwyn was about to drop to her knees when she was stopped by a hand. "No longer will you kneel. As you are to be married to Malack, you will curtsey to those of higher rank, Malack, myself and the gon."

  "Yes…I do not know what to call you. I do not know your title."

  "I am the Gonness of Black Dorn. That is what you address me as when we are in court. My name is Eva. Like you, I did not come from this land, but I have learned to love it and its men. The men of Black Dorn are strong and their women love them."

  Duncan placed breakfast on the table. The gonness sipped some wine then reached for a pear. "My son chose you. Have you chosen him?"

  "Yes, Gonness."

  "I assumed he would accept one of the higher-ranking ladies of the court and possess a couple of dunes with which to pleasure himself."

  "I still do not understand what I was training to be. I was too afraid to ask Duna Trea." She lowered her head to hide her embarrassment.

  "A noble woman is trained to open herself when she is ripe, so she may give her husband many sons. A gon-dra has many needs and hungers. His dunes would pleasure him and release those hungers." She smiled at Branwyn. "But you are not to be his dune. You will be his wife, Gonness-Dra Branwyn. As such, you must have a gown made for your presentation this evening and a new girl to serve you."

  Branwyn bit her lip. "May I not keep Leah? She has served me well."

  "She is not trained to be a waiting-lady." The gonness saw the sad look cross Branwyn's face. "Duncan, bring Branwyn's serving girl here."

  When presented to the gonness, Leah dropped to her knees and tried not to tremble.

  "The gon-dra has chosen his bride. You no longer serve a dune."

  Leah started to raise her head to look at Branwyn, but fear stopped her.

  "Branwyn has asked that you be trained to serve a gonness-dra."

  Leah clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a loud squeal. She trembled with excitement, but managed to keep her head lowered.

  "Today there is much to do. First, you must pack and move Branwyn's things to her new chamber. I will send some of my waiting-ladies to help you. She must be bathed and dressed in a most noble style for her presentation to the court."

  "Yes Gonness."

  "You have served Branwyn well. Your family will be rewarded with a new bow and quiver and a cow. You may leave."

  "Thank-you Gonness, Dune…uh, Mistress." Leah scurried from the room.

  The gonness turned her head. "Duncan, do the men still speak?"

  "Yes, Gonness."

  "Eat Branwyn. I am certain you must be faint with hunger. Malack's a healthy man. His bedding must be most vigorous."

  Branwyn picked out an apple and some biscuits and ate quietly. She wanted to talk, but she felt overwhelmed.

  "I know nothing about you. Do you have parents?" The gonness's head tilted to the side.

  Branwyn shook her head.

  "How sad." She patted Branwyn's arm. "Do you know about Malack's past?"

  Branwyn swallowed her bite of biscuit. "I know a wife was chosen, she rejected him and left with his most hated rival."

  "Timous." The gonness raised her hand to mouth and turned her head.

  Who is this Timous? Why does it sadden the gonness to speak of him? "The one who gave him the scar on his cheek?"

  "Yes, they were…close as children." The gonness stared at her hands as she spoke. "After the one who rejected left, Malack swore he would choose his own bride. He bedded many and rejected all."

  A tingle of pride and joy scurried through Branwyn. "How did you know I had been chosen?"

  "Never once did Malack bed a woman in his chambers. Duncan, who it seems spent the night keeping Duna Trea from finding you, informed us this morning of what had occurred."

  Both ate in silence. Branwyn desperately tried to process parts of her past twenty-four hours. No longer a dune, she would instead be wedded to Malack and become gonness-dra. Blushing, she remembered her incredible night with Malack and their pleasures…

  "Blue?"

  "Pardon?" She stammered, blinking her eyes as her daydream faded from her memory.

  "A blue like his eyes." The gonness smiled. "With silver threads. A simple gown, but one to enhance your beauty. Do you like birds?"

  Branwyn nodded and brushed her hair back off her face.

  "With birds embroidered across the skirt. My seamstresses will be very busy today." Branwyn dropped into a low curtsey as Malack's mother stood and left.

  She chose a pear from the bowl of fruit then walked to the window and stared out an expanse of green that led to a blue lake. The beauty of the view fascinated her.

  His hands felt warm as they encircled her waist. She jumped and giggled. His breath was hot as his lips pressed a kiss on her neck. "Were I able to spend the day here…" He sighe
d and stepped back. "But the gon-dra has duties. An outlying castle may need help. I must spend my day training with my men and arranging preparations if we must leave." His lips neared her ear. "I can think of many better ways to spend my day."

  He turned, undressed and dressed in heavier clothes, covered with leather. Duncan handed his sword to him. "Tonight, when I present you to court, address me as Gon-Dra, but kneel to no one. Curtsey to me and the gon."

  "The gonness is having a new gown made for me for this evening."

  His gaze roamed her body. His tunic did not conceal much. "I find nothing wrong with what you are wearing." He leaned closer, kissed her and left.

  A guard entered and announced. "I am to take you to your new bedchambers." She paused a moment, then followed. The old Branwyn would have been humiliated walking the halls of Black Dorn dressed only in a man's tunic. Branwyn was proud. It was Malack's tunic. He had chosen her.

  She stepped into her new bedchamber. It was larger and brighter than her old room. Although not as richly decorated as Malack's, it was still warm and comfortable. A large bed sat across from the hearth. To the side was a table with cushioned chairs. Leah seemed to be unable to speak. She giggled every time she showed her mistress something new.

  "There is a closet for relieving oneself." Leah pointed to a door then turned and opened a different one. "I have my own bed chamber and will no longer have to sleep in the serving girl's chamber."

  Branwyn walked about her room touching the decorations. Tapestries beautifully embroidered with scenes of a summer garden hung on her walls. A silver comb and brush rested on a table encrusted with beautiful stones.

  "Mistress Branwyn."

  She turned to see who spoke.

  A waiting-lady stood, eyes cast downward. "The seamstresses are here."

  "No." Leah took charge of her mistress. "She must be cleansed. She was bedded by the gon-dra." Everyone lowered their heads as they backed out of the room. Leah giggled at her moment of power. "Your bath is ready. You have a separate room for it. I fear I will get lost in so many rooms."

  Settled in a rose-scented bath, Branwyn relaxed while Leah bathed her and washed her hair. When Branwyn was dressed in a simple shift, Leah allowed the others to enter.

  The oldest seamstress spoke to Leah as she passed her, "You will make a good waiting-lady."

  Leah beamed.

  The ministrations of the seamstresses dazed Branwyn. They talked and argued, and draped her in many different cloths. Finally, a blue was chosen and the seamstresses left to create a gown fit for the gonness-dra- to be.

  She spent part of her afternoon, learning to do a proper court curtsey and the basics of court etiquette. As Leah wove silver ribbons Branwyn's hair, her gown arrived. Settling it over her body, Leah smoothed the fabric against Branwyn's curves. Glittering thread decorated the sleeves and two birds floated across the skirt.

  Leah rubbed fragrant oil over her neck and between her breasts. It smelled like a rose garden.

  Malack entered. He was no longer dressed in his military training clothes, but wore a deep blue velvet tunic also decorated with silver. The ends of his hair were still damp, holding his curls a bit tighter. The handle of his sword gleamed as if Duncan had spent a day polishing it. "Gon-Dra." She dropped into her newly learned court curtsey.

  He took her hand and helped her stand. "Do that again, and I will instruct you."

  "Yes, Gon-Dra." Smiling, she curtsied again.

  He reached behind and grabbed a handful of her bottom. "I remember it was pleasant instructing you. But that joy must be saved for later."

  Malack opened the door then led the way to the great hall. Branwyn heard the multitude of voices of those who had arrived before them. Two guards snapped to attention and swung open both of the doors. Trumpets loudly heralded their arrival. Aware they were the center of attention, Branwyn kept her focus on Malack. He turned to face the gon and respectfully bowed his head. Branwyn dropped into a curtsey and held it. "Gon, I have chosen my bride." He held out his hand. Branwyn reached for it and stood.

  The gon and gonness raised their goblets. "To the Gon-Dra and Branwyn." The hall stood and cheered. He led Branwyn to a seat next to his, which was to the right of his father. Branwyn sat on a chair with a thick cushion and a small stool to rest her feet. The back of her chair was tall and padded for comfort.

  The servants brought in the meal. As a dune, Branwyn had not eaten the same foods that had been placed on the gon's table. Her mouth watered at the sights and smells of what was presented. She marveled at how crisp and clear her wine tasted. Probably because now, she drank from a golden goblet.

  She tasted many new foods and drank different wines and ale. The entertainers juggled and did magic tricks for everyone's enjoyment. Branwyn did not speak, but listened as Malack explained things to her or had political discussions with his father. She tried to hide a yawn.

  Malack leaned over. "Do not fall asleep. I remember I am to instruct you this evening."

  "The food and wine, I fear, have made me sleepy."

  "Then we will leave." He spoke to his father, rose and escorted Branwyn from the room.

  Outside, in the quiet of the passageway, Branwyn asked, "May we go to the training room? I would like to…to right an earlier failure."

  Malack kissed her forehead. "One must fail if one is to learn."

  She placed a hand on both his cheeks, and stared into his eyes. "I need to do this. I need to know that I can pleasure you."

  Malack's brow crinkled.

  "There are many ways to pleasure in Black Dorn. Many of them I have not learned. I do not wish to displease you and have you pleasuring yourself with a dune. Your mother said she expected you to take a noble lady and a dune. The lady to bear your sons. The dune to pleasure you."

  Malack walked to a window and turned to face her. Moonlight streamed in, illuminating them. "Branwyn, I have chosen you. I do not want a dune."

  "But when I am heavy with child and cannot pleasure you, I fear you releasing with someone…more skilled than I." She lowered her eyes.

  "Your head is clouded with the day. And possibly the wine. This is my answer to your fears." He pulled her close, wrapped her in a strong embrace and kissed her. "Now let us continue. I suspect I might enjoy helping you correct a failure."

  Malack opened the door to the dune training room then used a light from the hall to ignite a couple of the torches. When he turned, Branwyn had removed her clothing and was kneeling on the floor, arms stretched out before her, forehead resting on the floor. He placed his sword beside her carefully folded gown and waited.

  "When I was instructed here, I failed. Duna Trea was very angry with me."

  "I remember." Malack pulled a silk ribbon from a shelf and tied Branwyn's ankles to rings attached to the floor. She stretched out, lying flat on the cold stone. He attached ribbons to her wrists and bound them to another ring. "It was not the fear of this, Branwyn. It was your pride." He pushed some pillows under her hips then playfully, but firmly, he smacked a buttock. Her flesh quivered.

  Again, his hand made contact with her flesh, but this time it was a caress. As he spoke, he stroked her buttock, slid his hands up and down her inner thighs. "You and your body are two things that appeal to me. Your flesh entices me. I wish to stroke it, kiss it—lose myself in it. But that is not only why I chose you. I want you. I want to protect you. You are in my thoughts when I should be thinking about war. I would watch you—dining in the great hall and would forget to eat. I need you Branwyn. And am truly humbled by that."

  He slipped his finger into her pleasure hole. After several strokes, he slid his finger to her clit, rubbed it then returned to stroking her.

  Branwyn spoke softly. "When we first met, I thought you were the handsomest man. If I saw you in the castle, my heart would beat faster and heat rose within me. I did not dream of my master. It is you—oh!"

  He inserted two more fingers and increased the pace of his stroking.

  Sh
e had to force herself to focus on what she wanted to say. The joy he created inside her made it difficult to form coherent thoughts. "It is you I dream about. It is you I want."

  He stopped and untied the ribbons. Lying spread out before him, Branwyn waited. He stroked her leg. "It was not this you failed. You fought against the person instructing you. He did not deserve to touch you. You should only be pleasured by one who adores you and wishes to be consumed by you." His mouth latched onto a breast and suckled it.

  Lifting her from the floor, he carried Branwyn to the strange chair and placed her in it. He tied her wrists to the arms and placed her feet into straps. Her weight was supported on her back and hips leaving her buttocks exposed.

  "Yes, please," she cried. "Take me, like...like you took Sasha. Take command of my body. Pleasure yourself like you are the gon-dra. I am not afraid of you. I only wish to please you."

  For a few moments Malack did not move. "Sasha loves pain. We spent many nights here where her flesh was red and blood dripped from her. Still, she still begged for more."

  Her eyes grew round. She steadied her voice. "I trust you, Malack."

  He kissed her, not with the tender kiss she had become accustomed to, but a rough hungry one. It seemed not to matter whether she responded. He did not caress her or tenderly stroke the pink flesh of her breast. He grabbed both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed. Branwyn bit back the urge to stop him. The pain made her hot between her legs.

  His hand brushed her buttocks then smacked her with a gentle force. It was not a tear inducing pain, but a temperature rising pain. She felt hot, like the summer sun was shining down on her naked body.

  Without warning, his hand cracked across her buttocks. Her yell was involuntary. It had escaped her throat. He repeated his strike, then ran his hand over where he had hit her. His caress removed the sting. He struck again, and caressed her again. This was not the same as when Trea instructed her. That had been a blinding fury of pain, which overwhelmed her into darkness. This she could bear for him.

  "Like?" His hot breath grazed her ear.