Captive Discipline (Demetrian Brides Book 1)

by Taryn Williams

  "Janys." He placed his hands on her elbows, but made no move to pull her arms away. "You know we have to finish this. If necessary, I will force you into the restraints, but I would rather you did it freely."

  "But I hurt so much already," she pleaded, clamping herself even tighter. "Don't do this to me!"

  "You asked me a moment ago if I loved you," he told her quietly. "I gave you my answer. Now I do not ask for your love, but I do need your trust if we are to have any chance going forward of having a happy life together. Please give me that trust now."

  Shaking with sobs, she buried her face in her hands. Then so slowly she almost wasn't aware she'd done it, she relaxed her arms. He unfolded and stretched them up, binding her left wrist in position. The right he left free

  This time he started with her hands, pounding the strap across her palms before working his way up her forearm to her elbow. She was only dimly aware that he'd switched to her feet and legs, giving her shins and front of her upper thighs the same treatment she'd received on their counterparts. Then something fiery licked across her pelvis and stomach.

  Shalimerie had been right—Martel wasn't hitting these places with the same force he'd brought to the rest of the strapping—but the pain still overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes tightly so she wouldn't have to see his arm coming down as the relentless wave continued towards her breasts. But she couldn't help hearing the sound as he doubled the strap again before using it to spank first the right, then left, in blazing short strokes centered on her nipples.

  "One more place, then we will be done." But even before she felt his arm move farther down her body, she knew where she would feel it. Between her legs, on the area with the greatest number of nerve endings. Too exhausted to scream, she whimpered as he applied the leather five more times.

  Even after he unbuckled the restraints she didn't try to move. Why should she when even lifting a finger brought a fresh wave of pain? Martel looked down at her, his eyes watering. "Janys, I am so sorry," he breathed. "But we know it had to be done."

  She wanted to say she didn't know, couldn't even think when every inch of body shrieked in agony. Surely the anger that kept her together while waiting for the forbinner would return, and she would hate both him and his world for doing this to her.

  But she didn't. Before she'd just imagined what Martel had endured at the Men's Gathering for helping her. Now that she shared the same pain, she understood how difficult it must have been for him to bear it so stoically, blaming neither the men who wielded the rods nor the one who'd placed him in jeopardy.

  Shalimerie had told her to give into the punishment, but even though she'd acquiesced physically, she knew she hadn't emotionally. All the time in the chair and then on the bench, she'd fought it. Blaming Wyteen for its laws. Blaming the Council for enforcing them. Worse yet, blaming Martel for carrying out the forbinner, even knowing he had no choice.

  Something inside her crumbled as she recognized what she'd been looking at the situation neither as an objective observer nor mature adult, but as a child who resented getting caught. She started crying again, reaching for his hand and laying it against her cheek. "I'm the only one to blame for breaking the law. Will you ever forgive me?"

  He dropped down to one knee as he stroked her face. "How can I, when I already did so the moment you said you would marry me?"

  Janys started crying harder. "I just feel so sorry—"

  "Shhh, my darling." He cut her off with a kiss. "You did something wrong, and you have been punished for it. Now it is over, and you need to forgive yourself. Offering yourself for correction is the only price for forgiveness."

  "I guess I have," she conceded. If she could accept the fact she'd broken the law, couldn't she also accept the fact she'd paid for it? Suddenly she felt light and free, as if she'd just passed a final exam she'd been worrying over forever. Her sobbing stopped as she realized that although her body still hurt, the rest of her had never been better.

  "Here, let me." A kerchief materialized from some hidden compartment on Martel's tunic, and he gently dabbed at her eyes.

  As he bent over her, Janys realized she'd never considered how difficult it must have been for him to carry out the forbinner. Except for his participation in the Men's Gatherings, where he could have avoided striking a loved one by accepting the blows himself, Martel would never have been responsible for causing serious pain to someone he cared about. The man who hadn't cried out over his own bruises and marks had fought tears over hurting her.

  "Are you ready to go upstairs?" She nodded, and he went over to open the door.

  Shalimerie must have been waiting nearby, because suddenly she appeared. Together she and Martel supported Janys in the endless walk up the stairs. A steaming cup of corittan waited by the beside. "Drink, love," her friend commanded, holding it to her mouth before helping her lie down on the bed. Within minutes the drug carried her to welcome oblivion.

  She woke reluctantly, wishing to sink back down in the painless blackness. Cool expert fingers rubbed something soothing on her back. "Shalimerie," she murmured. "Thank you."

  Instantly the hands stopped their work. "Actually it is I," Elondelle's voice replied. "My grandson has a fever. I offered to look after you so she could go home to him."

  Automatically Janys tensed, causing her body to complain massively. "I thought you didn't believe in breaking the rules. That stuff you're putting on me—"

  "Offends the spirit of forbinner," Elondelle finished. "Yes, I know. But Zellin was right that I sometimes follow the rules too blindly. Someday I will tell you why, but right now you need to eat a little, then get more sleep."

  She allowed the other woman to help her into a semi-sitting position. Fortunately her lips and throat didn't ache or worse, so she managed to get down the remainder of Master Grelatik 's soup before Elondelle passed her another cup of corittan laced with sleeping drops.

  As she became drowsy, Elondelle patted her reddened hand. "Janys, I wish to apologize for the things that happened the last time we saw each other. I know you have tried hard to learn our way of life and become a good wife for my son, and I was wrong to push you so hard. Now I am no longer your disciplinarian, I hope we can start over."

  "Sure," she mumbled. "No problem." She drifted into unconsciousness, wondering if she'd only dreamed about her mother-in-law's appearance.

  The next day she woke by herself, and despite wincing each inch of the way, made it to the bathroom. Although she figured she'd be covered with bruises, the mirror showed only her bottom and thighs bore black-and-blue marks. Everything else just felt sore, as though she'd been pummeled about in a Flertilian wind storm.

  She found Elondelle and Yagote in the kitchen chopping up greens "Good, you are awake," the older woman remarked. "I thought a salad for now, then something more substantial in the evening. While you eat, Yagote can change your bed linens."

  Janys opened her mouth to say she didn't want anyone snooping about her room, then closed it. Even if she felt up to tucking in sheets or plumping pillows, she didn't want to cross Elondelle in the wake of her mother-in-law's apology. Instead she gingerly lowered herself on top of the marital pillow and ate some of the slightly sweet mixture on her plate before retiring to the living room.

  The other two vanished when Shalimerie returned that afternoon. Janys lay back on the couch, letting her friend's teaching adventures and gossip flow over her aching body like the stream water she'd longed to feel. When she woke up, she found Martel had taken up the vigil.

  She hadn't exchanged more than a couple of words with him since he'd released her from the spanking bench. Her tongue felt sluggish, drained by the crying and unsure what to say to the man who'd caused the pain. Yet she remembered his tears, and couldn't blame him for administering the strapping when the Council had given him no choice.

  Actually she couldn't work up much anger at Tadewidan and the elders. Now that the forbinner had taken place, she found it easier to accept. Before her raging a
gainst the laws had been more the defense of someone looking for an escape clause, not a researcher objectively reviewing the situation. After all, she'd seen people punished in other societies, sometimes for far less. She'd knowingly defied their laws—what principled objection could she have to accepting the consequences of her action?

  Never had she seen Martel afraid, even when he left to confront the Men's Gathering, but she didn't know how else to describe the way he looked at her. She wet her lips, trying to figure out how to tell him she didn't hate him. That in some strange way she felt closer to him now that she'd finally paid the price for the pain he'd suffered on her behalf.

  Finally she held out her hand. "I love you," she whispered…

  Chapter 9

  Although she knew it would be a while before her body would again enjoy his embraces, Janys felt better having Martel back beside her in bed. She finished off the last of the sleeping drops, then gently laid her hand on his while she nodded off.

  The next day she spent recuperating on her own. Kronitin stopped by to let her know Shalimerie would be staying at home to look after Chardontal. "He is in the grumpy stage of recovering from a cold," his father apologized.

  He offered to fetch Elondelle as a substitute, but Janys waived him away. Despite the older woman's recent kindness, she decided she'd rather pass the day with the mystery anthology Martel picked up at his friend Rodogan's. With a few strategically placed pillows, she found she could recline well enough to get immersed in the stories without being distracted by each ache and pain.

  That night she felt able to join her husband at the dinner table, where he served several of her favorite dishes along with several glasses filled to the top with winotal. She must have dozed off as he cleared the table, because when she opened her eyes, she again lay in bed, his arm circling her hip.

  She woke up the next morning in darkness to find Martel already getting dressed. "Is something wrong?"

  "No, not at all." Sitting down on the bed, he leaned over and kissed her. "I just want to get to the Council meeting early so they can take me up as the first thing on the agenda. That way I can make my report and still get to the center on time."

  She held him to her a few moments longer. "Once you speak to them, will all this be over?"

  "The Council will still have its concerns. After all, not even two decedonners have passed since our wedding." Taking her hands, he brushed his lips against her fingertips. "Although we have experienced so many things in that time it seems as though it should have been longer."

  Less than an Earth month, she marveled. Yet despite all the pain, fear and anger that time had brought, she'd found joy in being with this man.

  "Tadewidan and the others may continue to observe us, but as long as no law is broken, they will not interfere. I will also ask them to release my mother from any responsibility for teaching or supervising you." Again he caressed her lips before he standing up. "Once the forbinner is completely behind you, we have many wonderful things to explore.

  While he dressed, she debated the merits of breakfast versus additional sleep, deciding on the latter. It seemed like only seconds later she felt him shaking her shoulder. "Janys, the Council needs to see you."

  "What?" Morning sunlight flooded their bedroom as she squinted at him. "You've already been to the meeting? What happened? Didn't they believe you?"

  "I never had a chance to speak." He breathed heavily, as though he'd run all the way from town. "Before I even got into the meeting hall, Tadewidan told me to come back and fetch you."

  "That's ridiculous!" Every inch of her skin protested as she forced herself to sit up. "They must know what kind of shape I'm in after the other day. Now they want me to walk all the way to town? Why can't they just ask you for whatever they need?"

  "Janys, if I knew, I would tell you. Here." He handed her a tunic. "We need to hurry. They said they would not be able to start until we got there."

  "Martel—you don't think—" her hands froze on the material. Could Tadewidan and Company have changed their mind about the extent of her punishment? Perhaps romage wasn't enough, and they were going to demand he whip her hard enough to leave scars.

  He slid his hands onto her trembling shoulders. "They have no reason to challenge your forbinner. I carried it out with their approval in accordance with our customs. But I sense it may be something different. Tadewidan seemed distracted."

  "Okay." She breathed deeply as she hauled her aching body into her outside clothes. If they're dragging me down there just so they can see for themselves—well, I'll show them what I can be like in the grumpy stage of my own recovery.

  "Wait!" Another disturbing thought popped into her head. Although she'd had only winotal the night before, Janys had no idea how long Shalimerie's sleeping drops might stay in her system. "Are they going to test my blood to see if I've taken anything—"

  He shook his head. "No, I administered the correction, and only I would have the right to punish you for avoiding the consequences. But I invited Shalimerie here to help you, so everything had my blessing. The Council may disapprove of my decision, but no one has the right to countermand it."

  Martel tried to be considerate as he helped her along the path, but she still resented being hurried. The soles of her feet pressed painfully against the ground, and every other part of her body longed to be back in bed. By the time they reached the meeting hall, Janys felt like screaming.

  As they passed through the door, the Elders immediately stopped talking among themselves. "Mistress Janys has now arrived," Tadewidan intoned. "We may begin."

  "Begin what?" She might have stopped blaming the Council for the forbinner itself, but not the way Tadewidan dealt with her. "Show and tell? Why didn't you just let Martel literally give you the blow-by-blow? Or Elondelle can tell you about the results, unless you don't trust her either."

  The Elder regarded her coldly. "This is not about your forbinner, though we are pleased it has been completed. No, Mistress Janys, you have a visitor. Someone who believes we have you under lock and key, and insisted we produce you immediately."

  A visitor? Janys steadied herself against Martel's arm. Of course, it could be the Ambassador. Or one of the Protector's representatives, or even someone from the Interplanetary Court of Justice.

  Or the one she knew it would be, even before Tadewidan asked if she was familiar with a Professor William Rickman. "Yes," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "I worked with him at the Institute."

  "The ICJ granted his request to serve as special investigator into the circumstances of your stay with us," the Elder continued. "Specifically, they told us we must allow him to interview you."

  "Here?" Despite her best efforts, she felt a slow burn creeping over her face as she imagined being probed by the Professor in front of the Council and Martel.

  Tadewidan immediately dispelled the vision. "In private. Unless you consider him dangerous and require protection."

  Janys stifled a hysterical giggle. While she'd never considered the Prof safe, he'd never lifted a hand to her, while Tadewidan and the others had considered sending her to death or scarring her for life. "No, I'll talk with him alone," she told the Council as Martel squeezed her hand more firmly than necessary.

  The Elder stared at her. "I remind you of your promises to retain our confidentiality. Unless the ICJ removes you from our jurisdiction, we will continue to enforce those laws."

  "I have no doubt of that," she shot back, her buttocks and thighs again protesting the effects of the Council's previous enforcement effort. "But I intend to keep my promises."

  But did she? Maybe Mistress Janys did, but what about Janys Livingston? Would seeing the Professor wipe out everything that had happened to her on Demeter? Perhaps the person she'd recently become would disappear, and she'd change back into the researcher whose true life existed far from this planet.

  Fortunately Tadewidan couldn't read her mind. "Good." He motioned to the two men who'd escorted Janys to her
trial. "Tell Professor Rickman we are ready to have him join us."

  As the audience turned towards the back of the hall to get their first glimpse of the offlander, Janys wondered if this whole morning might not be the product of the sleeping drops. Rescue, yes—she'd prayed for it both before and after the wedding, but she'd never imagined the Prof actually showing up on Demeter. Yet that was certainly him coming towards her in a three-piece suit with matching handkerchief and tie, showing the backwood planets how an Institute man dresses.

  Despite herself she broke away from Martel's grasp and moved forward to meet him. He embraced her swiftly, the pain wracking her body. At first she thought he intended to kiss her on the lips, but his mouth merely touched her cheek. "Hang in there, sweetie," he whispered in her ear. "I'm going to get you out of all this."

  She drew back, bumping into Martel as the Prof whirled around. "Elder," he addressed Tadewidan. "I am glad to find Ms. Livingston alive, though considering the marks on her arms and legs, I wouldn't say she's particularly well."

  "Mistress Janys recently accepted correction for disobeying our law," the younger man retorted. "She will soon recover completely."

  "Perhaps," the professor responded. "But I need to hear that from the lady herself. Alone."

  Tadewidan gestured behind him. "As I told you, we will make our Council chambers available for that purpose."

  Prof shook his head. "And as I told you, I prefer the shuttle. You understand my interest in making sure she has the opportunity to speak freely."

  "Just as you understand our interest that our new citizen not be spirited out of our jurisdiction until the ICJ makes a final ruling," the Elder countered.

  "Then let us satisfy both our interests, plus that of the ICJ in knowing her current conditions, by having her show me where she lives." The Professor's blue eyes gleamed, and Janys knew he'd never expected to be allowed to take her on the ship. Even if permission had been granted, she doubted he'd risk his position with the Institute to illegally whisk her away.