The Princess and the Rogue

by Jordan St. John

  “Ow! Ow! I’m sorry. Please!” they said, begging for mercy. Juliet couldn’t tell who was crying what. As if it mattered. Soon that would be her.

  The switching went on for several minutes. By the end of it, the girls were sobbing and pleading for mercy and forgiveness. Whether it was the state of their bare bottoms or the tone of their apologies, Juliet didn’t know, but as if by some unspoken understanding, both men halted. The girls were allowed to rise and readjust their clothing. Both dropped to one knee and kissed the hand of her rescuer and punisher. Then they were led away, presumably to seek relief for their burning bottoms.

  Juliet had watched in fearful anticipation. Her mouth was dry, her knees were shaking, and her heart thumped wildly. It was her turn. She looked to Rand. At least it would be he and not some strange man who would deliver her punishment.

  Rand grasped her by the wrist. She looked at him quizzically. “I’m not sure you can stand there and take your punishment like the others, princess. So we’ll do this another way.” She watched as he snapped off half of the switch’s length, then stumbled as he pulled her along toward the stump. He sat down, and before she could register what was happening, he pulled her face down across his knees.

  “Ooof,” she gasped as she toppled across his lap, her nose inches from the dirt. It was a humiliating posture to be in. In front of Rand’s followers, she was going to be spanked like some common tavern wench who had insulted a customer. She turned red in the face as Rand hoisted her skirts. Her feet fluttered helplessly behind her. Underneath she had on drawers and she gasped in shame and embarrassment as Rand yanked them down. Her bare bottom now was totally exposed with nothing but a gentle breeze between her skin and that switch. Then Rand shifted his body. Craning her neck, Juliet saw him reaching for the switch. He grasped it in his right hand and tightened his left arm, which encircled her waist. He tapped her bottom with the switch, testing its resilience.

  “Now, princess, in the future you’ll obey the rules I set. I mean to make this memorable.”

  Swick! The switch struck and Juliet felt an instant line of fire across her buttocks.

  Swick! Again the switch impacted her bare flesh.

  Swick! Huick! Swish! Three searing licks fell in rapid succession, causing her to wail and throw her feet up behind her.

  Rand whipped the switch down with deft flicks of his wrist, placing red hot stripes across the squirming bottom cheeks of the unhappy princess.

  Juliet had never felt anything sting so badly. Each strike was a blazing line of pure agony. He plied the switch from the top of her buttocks down to the soft fold where her bottom joined the tops of her thighs.

  Juliet writhed and bucked over Rand’s lap, but he held her securely. She wriggled and fluttered her feet, trying everything to shake off the awful sting. Nothing worked. The switch sang through the still air of the camp, delivering its fiery message of pain, and she could not escape, no matter what she did.

  Soon, she began to bleat her abject apologies.

  “Ow… yow! Please… ahhh!”

  Rand ignored her. He continued to apply the switch to her quickly reddening bottom at a steady tempo, undeterred by her wails and pleas for mercy.

  “You (swick) need to learn (swick) this lesson (swick) well, princess. In this camp, my word is law (swick).”

  Juliet howled with each red hot stripe of the switch.

  Finally the princess broke into tears, sobbing uncontrollably. She slumped across Rand’s lap, emotionally exhausted, broken, unable even to squirm. It was the signal he’d been waiting for, her surrender. He stopped.

  Rand took Juliet by the waist and placed her on her feet. Her dress fell to cover her nakedness. One of the older women appeared at his side. “Go with Gertrud, princess. She will give you a salve to take the sting away,” he said.

  Juliet allowed the woman to lead her away. They climbed into a treehouse, remote from the others. Each step made Juliet wince. Her bottom stung like a thousand hornets had stung it. The woman bade her lie face down on a pallet.

  “This will help take the sting out of Rand’s switch,” she said as she spread a gooey poultice over Juliet’s welted bottom. “He’s very taken with you, you know,” she added.

  That surprised Juliet. “But he punished me so harshly. He whipped me,” she said.

  “You must understand,” said Gertrud. “He had to. You violated an important law. He couldn’t look the other way, especially after Edith and Lylie had been punished for their part in it. The camp trusts that he treats everyone the same. You may be royalty as you say you are, but here it makes no difference.”

  Juliet looked straight ahead and said nothing as the woman continued to tend to her. She supposed the woman was right. Still, the episode had been utterly demeaning, not to mention the awful sting of the switch. It wasn’t something she cared to repeat, ever.

  “He cares for you,” said Gertrud in a low voice. Then, conspiratorially, she whispered, “If you go to him tonight, he will not refuse you. I could see it in his eyes.”

  Juliet turned her head, startled. She saw the woman nod. “He will not refuse you. He wants you.”

  * * *

  She did not have to seek him out. An hour later, after Gertrud had finished and left, she heard someone climbing up the ladder. Juliet looked up. Rand stood in the doorway, a silhouette in the moonlight. Juliet got to her feet slowly, a shy maiden, waiting. Rand came to her, put his arms about her, and drew her close.

  “I am sorry I had to do that, princess. I will help you return to your father.” Impulsively, she kissed him. For an instant she drew back, shocked at what she had done. Rand looked surprised, too. Then, as if of one mind, they came together, arms encircling each other and their bodies melding together. Their lips met and they kissed, a long passionate embrace that thrilled Juliet to her core.

  He ran his hands all over her, up and down her back, then caressing her flanks. Her hands were busy, too. She felt his chest, then the broad shoulders, marveling at the hardness of muscle she felt there. Then her hands fell to his hips and the lean muscles of his legs. When he brushed his fingers across the tips of her breasts, the thrill of pleasure that shot through her made her knees buckle slightly.

  Deftly he untied her bodice and he parted the fabric to reveal snowy breasts tipped with pink nipples. Another gentle tug on a string loosened her skirt and it fell about her ankles.

  He knelt on one knee. What on earth was he doing? she wondered in a daze. His face was nearly level with her pelvis. Gently he put his finger in her drawers and tugged them down until they pooled at her feet.

  She winced slightly as his hands cupped her buttocks, but she forgot her discomfort and lost herself in the most exquisite of sensations when Rand pressed his face into the triangle of her womanhood and kissed her womanly slit. She uttered a little moan of pleasure as his tongue flicked out, seeking, pushing itself into her sex, which was now flushed with moisture. All the while his fingers kneaded her buttocks, drawing her in so that her mons was fully accessible to his tongue. Ohh… it was heavenly. Never before had she felt such sensation. His probing tongue found the little nub of her clitoris and a surge of pleasure hit her like a lightning bolt. When her knees sagged and she almost fell, Rand caught her. He stood and scooped her into his arms. Gently he laid her on the sleeping pallet, then stood back.

  Juliet lay watching Rand divest himself of clothing. When he tore away the underclothes, her startled eyes fastened on his male organ. She’d never seen one before, at least not in rampant erection like this. It was long and thick and straight, and she could only imagine what it was going to feel like inside her. But more than anything she wanted it, wanted to feel its length sliding into her most intimate place. That she was giving her maidenhood to this outlaw did not deter her resolve or desire in the slightest. She wanted this man.

  He knelt on the pallet and eased his way between her legs. Instinctively she spread her knees apart and shifted her body so that she might more easi
ly receive him. He kissed her belly and worked his way up her body, touching her everywhere with his lips. When he reached her breasts, he let his tongue tweak her nipples. Pleasure shot through her body and she closed her eyes, throwing her head back. When she opened them again, he was at her portal, ready to enter. His hands slipped beneath her buttocks and lifted her. Then she felt it, his erection pushing, sliding. There was a brief moment of intense pain as her maidenhead ruptured. Then he was in.

  “Be still for a moment, my princess. The hurt will subside.”

  It did. And then he began to move, stroking in and out, slowly at first then faster. The friction of his penis against her found her pleasure spot causing waves of the most ecstatic feeling she’d ever known to build. Starting as a stream in a woodland glade, it became a roaring cascade, tumbling over a waterfall. The powerful thrusts of Rand’s manhood were driving Juliet out of her mind, and she writhed in a delicious agony. Finally, from the core of her being came a wave, a tumbling, frothing cataract that burst from within like a wave crashing against the rocks. She moaned and her body shook, racked by a pulsating, overpowering bliss that peaked then finally subsided. In that moment Juliet realized that nothing about her life would ever be as it had been before.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Highbridge

  The town of Highbridge was aptly named. After several days of riding, Roland and Scarlett had made it this far, to the bridge that would take them across the Tuala River. But now they had to be careful, for once they crossed the river they would be in the territory of the red countess.

  “Why do they call her the red countess?” asked Roland as they rode into Highbridge.

  “I only know a little of the story,” said Scarlett. “It wasn’t so long ago when she came to these lands. It is said that when the earl’s wife died, Morgaine snared him. She was regarded as a witch by many, who thought she cast a spell on the old earl to make him fall in love with her. He became enamored of her and they married. She moved in with all her attendants and followers, many of them Ieryn. Some believe she is really an Ieryn sorceress. From what I heard, the earl was a fair nobleman and loyal to King Robert. But then he took ill and died, and Morgaine took over. I’ve heard rumors she takes the daughters and sons of the nearby villages and towns and enslaves them in Castle Bathen to use them in unspeakable rituals or for her own pleasure. Some have never returned and are feared lost forever. People say she is fond of the whip and finds pleasure in punishment. Anyway, that’s what I’ve heard.”

  “Why hasn’t King Robert intervened?”

  “I am not sure, but I do know the folk in Kern are very much afraid of her and hide their children when her men are around. I’ve learned to avoid them by cutting through Darkwood Forest. They won’t go into the forest.”

  “Why not? Why be afraid of a forest?” asked Roland. They were approaching an inn. It looked like a good place to rest after several days of sleeping out in the open.

  “It’s not the forest, it’s who inhabits it. An outlaw named Rand LaFlors lives there, and he hates the red countess and those who ply trade with her. He robs them.”

  “Well, aren’t you afraid of him too?”

  “I have no money or gold or anything else. Why would he bother me? Besides, the older sisters of St. Agnes have told me I have nothing to fear from LaFlors. They know things about him.”

  Roland dismounted and gave his horse to a stable boy. Then he helped Scarlett off her horse. Her last comment piqued his interest.

  “What things?” he said.

  Scarlett cocked her head. “I’ve often wondered that myself, but they won’t say. But I have noticed for a few years that, from time to time, the convent treats some pretty rough-looking characters for illnesses, and then soon the larder is restocked with boar or venison.”

  To Roland, this mysterious LaFlors sounded like an interesting character, a bit different from the average cutthroat. Maybe he would find out. They had to go in that direction, partly through Darkwood Forest, to get to Kern and the convent of St. Agnes.

  * * *

  Darkwood Forest

  Rand had decided the safest way to get the princess home was to take her himself. It was a hard thing to do, but he had promised her. She had been elated, of course, and promised that her father would be so happy and grateful that Rand would be given a full pardon. He would no longer need to be an outlaw, and they could live together at Greystone Castle. She went on and on, her excitement building as she imagined this wonderful new future.

  Rand knew better. She was a princess, and if King Robert had any notion that an outlaw like he had despoiled his daughter, his head would decorate a spike on the battlements of Greystone Castle. His only realistic course of action was to take her within sight of the castle then let her go. He realized the princess might be heartbroken, but she would just have to understand. She was royalty—he was an outlaw. What she wanted could never be.

  Still, there were all these nagging doubts. Why had she been abducted by Morgaine? What purpose did that serve? That led to another discomfiting thought: was Greystone Castle safe now for Juliet?

  When he raised this issue with Juliet, she assured him it was. Sir Brenden Fowlkes, the head of her personal guard, was someone she had known all her life. He could be counted on. Then there was the king’s guard, her father’s personal soldiers who had served with him for years. They would protect her, too.

  Rand wasn’t so sure. For one thing, the guard did not include very many men by Juliet’s reckoning, maybe twenty at best. The larger garrison was in the city proper or spread throughout surrounding villages. Greystone Castle and its surrounding city of Kingsgate were big. A great many men could hide there, waiting for a signal from traitorous insiders.

  So his plan was to get Juliet safely to the castle gates, then he would disappear into the city. She would have to accept that they could not be together. He was nothing but a commoner now, his title and lands stolen from him before he had ever had time to appreciate who he was. Everything that had once set him apart from the common folk had been stolen when he’d been a mere lad, forcing him to flee and take up the life of an outlaw. But he remembered his family name, or at least what it would have been before the Ieryn had come. He was the son of the earl of Florin, a once flourishing estate, now under the control of the Ieryn.

  It broke his heart. He would have loved nothing better than to marry the fiery princess and have her bear his children. She was surely a handful, but he had figured out what it took to bring the haughty princess in her to heel. Treat her to a well-warmed bottom, and she melted like spring snow in a sunbeam. Underneath that regal attitude was not only a brave and resourceful woman, but a delightful wanton to rival any tavern wench.

  She had changed in other ways, too, as the result of her brief sojourn in the company of outlaws. It had started with the attempted runaway and the eventual reckoning at the business end of that switch. It had continued as she had accepted her place in Rand’s community and had done her part, as asked. She had learned that her value lay in what she could do, not in who she was, and so she had shouldered her burden and tried to do her best. Rand was proud of her.

  Still, from time to time the petulant princess appeared, and when it did, Rand took her in hand. He hoped the camp did not mind the sound of a good hard spanking in progress, because, when necessary, that is exactly what Rand delivered over his knee with her skirts up and her drawers down, squealing indignantly as he paddled her.

  Sometimes he wondered if the little minx didn’t provoke him on purpose. The sight of those perfectly shaped bottom globes perched over his knee and turning pink under his hand usually turned him into a rutting elk in mating season, and a spanking frequently ended in a passionate tumble in his sleeping furs. He had heard that a fanny tanning made some women randy, and it seemed that his little princess might just be one of those.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rand didn’t like towns, or so Juliet had been informed, but through Highbridge wa
s the most direct way to Kingsgate and Greystone Castle and also the easiest passage across the Tuala River. It would hopefully help that Rand apparently knew an innkeeper in Highbridge who could keep his mouth shut. The Rusty Boar was close enough to the docks to be out of the way, with not too many of Morgaine’s red-liveried men about.

  “Remember,” said Rand as they approached the inn, “not a word of your true identity. Not until we reach Kingsgate. We don’t know who we can trust.”

  Juliet promised. Not a word.

  But someone was about. A troop of men-at-arms, obviously organized from the way they obeyed the commands of the leader, had ridden up and dismounted just as Rand came within sight of the inn. He pulled up and gestured for Juliet to get behind a corner and out of sight.

  “What is it?” whispered Juliet.

  “Half a dozen men, well-armed,” he said.

  “Who are they?” she said.

  “I don’t know,” said Rand, “but I’m going to find out.” He turned his horse and guided him into an alley. “Follow me. It might be nothing, but we’ll go in the back way. I know the innkeeper.”

  The man’s name was Hutchin, and Juliet gathered that he owed Rand a favor for some past incident. “Go with Hutchin,” said Rand. “He’ll see you to a room upstairs. Stay there and wait for me. I’ll try and catch the conversation of these men and see what they are about.”

  As Hutchin led Juliet to a room upstairs, she found out why Rand was a friend. “I’ll be forever grateful to your man, my lady. Sh-h-h. Best not speak his name, though. Not in these parts. He brought back my Aveline, he did. Somehow whisked her out of Morgaine’s clutches, he did. Along with several others, right off the road.” Juliet followed, her feelings confirmed once again. Rand was no vicious outlaw. He was a savior. She would make her father see that.