Captive Discipline (Demetrian Brides Book 1)

by Taryn Williams

  "I so admit." She shut her eyes tight, as though it would ease the effect of her words. "And I offer my body for correction."

  "Good." For a second she thought he was going to hug her, but instead he stepped back and gestured toward the desk chair. "We could wait until we get home, but I prefer to get this over with as an instanter. I want you to bend over the back of that and hold on tightly."

  She did as she was told, biting her lip when he pulled the prander down. Martel held up her tunic with one hand while the other played the doubled switch between her legs, forcing her to stand with them farther apart. Then for yet another time that day she heard the dread swishing before she felt impact on her rear.

  If she could, she would have taken the punishment in silence so that neither Elondelle nor Yagote would have the satisfaction of hearing her cry, but she hadn't counted on her emotional reaction. The earlier switchings that day had been only physical, with her hand and legs enduring the pain. But this time she felt as though she truly deserved to be punished for deceiving someone who had no intention of harming her. Although this one didn't sting much more than the hand spanking he'd given her the day before, she started crying immediately at a level easily heard by any eavesdropper.

  Unlike Elondelle, Martel had no set number of strokes to deliver. Again Janys lost track of time as the switch did its job over every inch of her buttocks, reaching down to places he hadn't previously touched.

  It took her a moment to register that he'd stopped. Then she felt her clothing sliding across her burning skin before he helped her stand up. The other times she'd wanted to get away from him as far as possible. Now she found herself turning until she was sobbing into his chest. His arms wrapped around her, stroking her back. "That was very good, my dear," he whispered into her hair.

  His tunic smelled as though it had baked dry in the sun. Again she wondered how his mouth would taste a second time. Yet how could she want to kiss the man responsible for her aching bottom and legs? Previously she'd never believed the "Stockholm Effect" of prisoners siding with their captors, but maybe that explained her strange urge for closeness to her tormentor.

  Martel must have sensed the shift in her mood, because he drew away after one last pat on her shoulder blades. "Tomorrow you will have more things to learn, but I believe that is enough for one day."

  "I would hope so," she murmured.

  As they left the room, Janys discovered Martel's father had also been within hearing distance of her punishment. Yet neither he nor Elondelle acted as though anything unusual had occurred in their household as they made their good-byes. Only Yagote's eyes glittered with glee when Martel silently handed the switches back to his mother.

  Outside both of the suns had completely set, plunging Janys into a darkness she'd never fully experienced. Martel switched on a pocket flashlight, playing the beam across the packed earth. "As you know from this morning, our path has loose spots. I offer my arm if you wish."

  For a moment she hesitated, then slipped her hand under his tunic sleeve. Again she sniffed the fresh cloth, now catching an underlying hint of sweat. Every time they reached a rough spot, he automatically steadied her. How long had it been since a man tried to protect her from physical danger? Even when she'd gone on projects to the more dangerous planets, all Prof had done was approve her weapons requisitions.

  Whatever Yagote had prepared for their dinner filled the house with a yeasty odor. "Go look in your room," Martel advised. "Shalimerie found several things to get you through the next few days. On Gathering Night, she will take you to the shops the women keep open while the men meet so that you may pick out more yourself."

  Even though the garments were strange to her, Janys welcomed the clothes arrayed across her bed. As always, Shalimerie had chosen well both in size and color, from a luminous gray to a delicate lavender. While she wished she could have a complete bath before wearing any of them, she would do the best she could.

  Janys opened the closet to hang up the garments, then stopped short. She knew she'd left her shipping trunk at the end closest to the bureau. Yet something had shifted it to the other. Although nothing else appeared disturbed, she whirled around and headed towards the kitchen where Martel wrestled with some type of vegetable.

  "Do Yagote's chores include cleaning my room?" she demanded.

  He looked up in surprise. "I assume so. My mother always swept in there when I occupied it, so she would certainly have told Yagote to do the same."

  "Well, there's no need for her to. I would much rather do it myself than have someone moving my things around."

  She thought he was going to protest, but he instead he looked thoughtful. "You do have a right to privacy in your home. However I do not want to hurt Yagote by telling her to stay out. Suppose I give you the key to the lock? Then you may decide who enters."

  Although she knew his offer concerned Yagote's access, Janys blushed. Martel's kindness couldn't hide the oddness of their marital arrangement. He understood her reaction and flushed as well.

  "I didn't mean—"

  "I know," she jumped in. "But yes, I'd like to be able to lock the room while we're away."

  The next few minutes passed awkwardly while Janys tried to recall what they'd talked about before all of this happened. Mostly he'd answered her questions about Demetian customs. Now that was the last subject she wanted to hear about. And although she would have loved to learn more about his mother's transformation from Protectorate citizen to Wyteen wife, he deflected all inquiries.

  Fortunately Martel knew a surprising amount about Earth literature in the days before implants replaced the printed word. He delighted Janys by telling her his friend maintained an extensive private library of everything from Tolstoy to Turow. "When you are ready, we will attend one of his musical evenings. Rodogan has loaned me many volumes, and I am certain he will grant you the same privileges."

  Although her body still was sore, Janys felt more peaceful than at any other time since she'd been taken into custody. Other than spanking her for lying, Martel had been considerate to her all day, even on something as touchy as her wanting to keep Yagote away from her things. As she took the key from him, she found her head tilting up, her eyes locking into his own.

  "Thank you," she whispered as he bent down. Lower and lower, then his lips met hers, at first softly, then with conviction. His tongue slowly advanced until it played against hers as she cuddled the back of his neck. Now his hands slid down her back, but when he grasped her buttocks, she flinched.

  Quickly he drew back, disappointment clouding his eyes. "I believe you have some serious reading to do tonight," he murmured. "Good night, Janys."

  She closed the door behind him, then leaned against it, her heart pounding. How could she want a man whose role it was to hurt her? Yet she'd been seconds away from pulling him towards the bed.

  Firmly she locked the door. No matter how her body betrayed her, she would not give in.

  Someday she would return to her real home. The Institute, where Prof sometimes found his way to her room at night. A room where she could plug in to the latest studies to prepare for her next project, not read children's history books.

  Yet when she fell asleep, her final thought was that the sheets smelled like her husband's tunic.

  Chapter 5

  Janys dreaded the next round of Elondelle's lessons, but by being careful, she managed to remain relatively unscathed through the next few days. Now when asked to replace a broken switch, she practically ran to the garden. Although she missed a few questions on the daily tests and received several swipes across her shins, the great majority she got right, thereby preserving her thighs from added indignities.

  While her mother-in-law didn't reveal much more of her own background, she continued to offer Janys how-to kitchen advice over lunch time. On the fifth morning after she started learning to cook, Janys rose early and made breakfast for Martel.

  When he came down, his face was drawn tight as if he hadn't slept
much. Although he thanked her for the chinichon and rice biscuits she put on the table, he barely touched his plate Janys also wondered at his silence on their morning pilgrimage. While normally they'd continue their literature discussions, today he barely responded to her questions and comments on favorite mystery writers.

  Elondelle also seemed subdued when she opened the door. However Yagote made up with uncharacteristic animation, twice hugging Martel much too closely for Janys's comfort.

  Fortunately Martel was too distracted to notice. "I will be back early tonight, because I told Shalimerie we would be at their home before the second sundown. That will leave Kronitin and me time to reach the Gathering."

  "What do you believe will happen tonight?" his mother asked.

  He shrugged. "You know neither Father nor I may reveal it to anyone, even you. All I can say is that the Elders recommended I take a day of leave tomorrow." Turning to Janys, he added, "If you wish, you may come over here so your lessons will not be interrupted, or you may remain at home with me."

  "I'll stay home," she replied before the offer could be rescinded. But what could they be talking about?

  Then her mind started clicking. Yes, it had been ten days—a decedon—from the disastrous evening when she'd been arrested, so it would be time for the men to have their next meeting. What had Martel promised the Council after describing the visit to his father? Something about admitting the same to the Men's Gathering and offering his body for correction.

  Now she understood what was bothering Martel and Elondelle. He was going to be punished tonight by the rest of the men for allowing Janys to pump him for information about the last gathering, even though he didn't know she would use it to attend the secret meeting. And from the sounds of it, the punishment would be so severe he'd be unable to work the next day.

  She wished she could have several minutes alone with him to find out more and tell him how sorry she was about his paying for her mistakes, but he hurried off to work. Surprisingly Yagote didn't accompany him. "I will supervise housework today instead of lessons," Elondelle announced. "Yagote will demonstrate, then both of you will perform each item until it is completed."

  Most of the tasks were simple, requiring only correct use of the designated tool. Although the older woman kept a switch within easy reach, she didn't seem terribly concerned with Janys's work. Her eyes kept gazing out at the garden while the lines deepened in her tanned face. When they began sweeping the immense living room, she nodded at Yagote, then walked out the rear exit.

  As soon as Elondelle was out of earshot, Yagote turned on Janys. "Little Miss Spy. Do you know what they will do to him tonight?"

  The words she'd been holding back all morning spilled out. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I never wanted any of this to happen."

  "But you came here," Yagote hissed. "You may be sorry, but he will be the one with the scars on his back."

  "No!" Janys found it difficult to breathe as she thought of Martel being permanently marked. Surely Yagote was making this up just to torment her.

  "He should have let you go to Kollent," Yagote continued mercilessly. "Then all the men would have believed you tricked him into giving out the information. But now several say he deliberately answered questions to please you, so he will get the maximum strokes."

  Tears spilling down her cheeks, Janys dropped her curved wooden brush on the floor and ran to the backyard. Elondelle sat in a carved chair, oblivious to the white heat of the two suns. From the way she rubbed at her eyes, Janys guessed she'd been crying.

  "Janys, I hope you have finished sweeping the room!" The firm voice struggled for normality. "I did not give you permission to come out here."

  "That doesn't matter," she retorted, undeterred by the sources for switches growing only a few steps away. "I needed to ask you something about tonight. Tell me what's going to happen to Martel."

  She waited to be ordered back inside, but Elondelle paused. "I hope you find the answer worth having the back of the brush applied to your palm."

  "Yes, I do," Janys went on bravely, trying not to think of the heavy thud when she'd dropped it on the floor.

  "Then ask your question," Elondelle sighed.

  Janys fought to keep her own voice in line. "Yagote said the Gathering will do things to Martel that will scar him for life."

  Again Elondelle shifted her gaze so that she stared past the trees instead of looking at Janys. "That is always a possibility when punishment is given. But none of us—especially you—should be talking about what happens at a Gathering other than what we were told at your trial. We know two things. The men will make a decision. And Martel will let them carry it out."

  "But it's so unfair!" Janys burst out. "I'm the one that should be punished!"

  "And well you will be," Elondelle remarked. "I am sure that the bench Zellin and I gave as a wedding gift will be put to good use shortly. But Martel erred as well, and now must face the consequences. As his mother, I wish those to be minimal, because I know his act to be simply a foolish mistake. But I am not the one to determine his sanction, any more than I may tell my husband how to punish me."

  After days of being on the receiving end of Elondelle's handiwork, Janys had completely forgotten that the older woman answered to anyone. Could it be possible this stony-eyed woman actually offered her body for correction? Despite her concern for Martel, she couldn't help asking, "What do you do when he's wrong? When you're being punished for something you didn't do?"

  "Fortunately that rarely happens," Elondelle replied. "But I admit there have been times when I disagreed with the necessity as well as the severity of discipline he handed me. Afterwards we discussed it, and several times he has made amends."

  "But that's backwards!" Janys protested. "If he's wrong, you should be able to stop him. Just as Martel should be able to tell the Gathering they're crazy to blame him for something I did on my own."

  Ellondelle shook her head. "Janys, you do not understand about trust. I must trust Zellin to do the right thing, just as Martel must trust the men at the Gathering. That means submitting to their will even when we disagree."

  Janys felt sweat creeping down her back and legs, soaking into the tunic, yet she wanted Elondelle to continue. She wondered if Yagote was still at work in the house, or if she hovered at the back listening to the conversation.

  "When I do as my husband tells without argument or rebellion, I show him how much I love and respect him. How much I believe he uses his authority only to strengthen our marriage or for my good as a person. In the same way, Martel shows his respect for our customs by accepting the authority of the rest of the men."

  "It still doesn't seem right," Janys insisted.

  "To me it seemed wrong to live in a world without structure," the older woman pointed out. "I accept a few errors by those of good intent as the price of keeping that structure intact. But we shall talk of these things later. Now I must remind your hand not to shirk its tasks."

  Without being told, Janys stumbled back into the house in time to see Yagote making a final sweep of the now spotless floor. Although she had no reason to like the girl, she felt guilty about leaving her with the entire job. Still she hated the knowing look on the other's face as she bent over to pick up the brush.

  While before she'd always handed over the switches with the deepest resentment, this time Janys didn't feel anger towards her disciplinarian. Much as she hated it, she understood the idea of structure. That's what had initially drawn her to the Institute, whose complicated rules for academic achievement and career advancement made her feel safe and protected. At least until she'd started breaking them with impunity. Closing her eyes, she held out her hand.

  Elondelle wasted no time demonstrating how much a curved piece of wood could sting when applied repeatedly to palm and fingers. Nor did she allow Janys to soak it afterwards, much less ease up on the rest of the afternoon's activities. By the time Martel arrived, she could barely hold on to anything.

  Although Ja
nys longed to tell Martel how terrible she felt over what he faced that evening, he'd drawn even deeper into himself. The way to Shalimerie's house easily topped three times the distance of their normal walks, but he never said a word. Yet she didn't sense he blamed her for his plight, but that he needed to focus all his energy on his upcoming ordeal.

  The second sun dipped below the horizon as they came up to a small cabin tucked into a grove of more "switch trees". She wondered whether Shalimerie also had to make humiliating excursions to the backyard.

  A red-cheeked toddler played with blocks as Shalimerie watched from a porch swing. She jumped up as they came down the path. "Janys, welcome! Come on in while I collect Chardontal and his toys.

  While the home they'd just left contained mostly hardwood furniture with little decoration, Shalimerie's nest blossomed with softness and color. Janys couldn't begin to count the pillows and knitted blankets strewn about the puffy couches and chairs. Yet somehow the hues harmonized to create some sense of order.

  Shalimerie plunked Chardontal down into a smooth wood enclosure inhabited by stuffed bears and other creatures. She took a long look at Janys's left hand. "May we do something about that?" she asked Martel.

  He nodded absently as Shalimerie ushered her guest towards the bathroom. While Janys perched on a fluffy stool, she removed a jar and a long strip of cloth. Although Janys couldn't recognize the fragrance, it smelled as good as it felt when Shalimerie smoothed it over her ravaged skin, then wrapped everything loosely in the material. "You must have had a difficult day," she commented.

  "I had to find out what was going to happen to Martel tonight."

  Shalimerie looked meaningfully towards the outer rooms. "We may discuss that later this evening after our shopping is completed."

  Janys shook her head. "Shalimerie, I don't really feel like looking at clothes tonight. You've already found me more than enough to last for a while. Could we do it another time?"