Seer

by Raven Dark

  “Yes. Yes, you did.” His voice was ice. “Setora, there is always a choice—”

  “Sir.”

  My head whipped around. Emmy had stepped out from where she’d been standing, shoulders hunched, between Diamond and Crash. Sheriff shot an almost menacing look at her.

  Emmy swallowed. Crash tried to take her shoulder, to hold her back, but she shook him off. “Sir, Setora was—”

  “Shut up, Emmy,” T-Man growled.

  She flinched, then squared her shoulders and glanced at the rest. “No…please let me say this.”

  Sheriff dropped one hand from the switch and waited, his eyes amused. “Let her speak. I want to hear her defend our hero.”

  Emmy’s eyes closed. When she opened them, they were glistening. “Setora isn’t alone in this.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  I tried to catch her attention, shaking my head, but her eyes remained on Sheriff and if she saw me, she ignored it.

  “It was me. I told her to save the others. I begged her to. She was only going to save me until I told her.” His eyes widened, and she nodded. “She would probably have obeyed you if not for me.”

  The General ran his palm down his face, visibly processing this new information. Then he dropped his hand and cocked his head at her. “Did you twist her arm, Emmy?” he demanded. “Did you somehow take control of her mind and force her to save Utar?”

  Emmy’s shoulders sagged. When she answered, her voice was soft and small, her eyes on the ground. “No, sir.”

  Sheriff gave a curt nod toward the line. She stepped back to her place. He looked at me, back to Emmy, and then at me again. “We are here because Setora had a choice, and she and she alone, made her choice. Every man—or slave—is responsible for their actions, and no one else. Emmy will be dealt with later for her interference, but we are not here for her.”

  He stepped behind me once again and continued, addressing the group at large. “Now. Here’s how it’s going to be. Each man here will choose an implement. His hand, a belt. This.” He held up the switch, indicating it as his choice. “Setora will receive three strikes to her ass. Three for each man here. Someone will go twice, once in Steel’s stead. Seven men, three strikes each. No more, no less.”

  My jaw dropped. I gaped at him, my brain doing the math sluggishly. Twenty-one swats, with who knew what weapon. I closed my eyes, my breathing shallow.

  Sheriff was still talking, but his voice seemed to be coming down a long tunnel. “We will go in reverse order of seniority,” he said. “That means Crash goes first, Doc second, T-Man-third, then someone for Steel, and so on, finishing with me.”

  He jerked my face around to his.

  “Setora, I want you on all fours. You will remain still, and after each man takes his turn, you will thank him, loud and clear so everyone can hear you. Do you understand?”

  It took all my strength not to turn and run, to plead my way out. Sheriff was right. My choice had been mine and mine alone. Utar and his people had been in danger, that was true, but I’d chosen to put them, people we hadn’t even known, before a club that demanded loyalty first. We were lucky everyone hadn’t been slaughtered. Worse, Sheriff had known, I realized now. He’d known the risk of something going wrong. He’d given an order, and I’d willfully disobeyed it. There was a reason he was a leader, and I’d let myself forget that.

  Not to mention, he’d put his trust in me, and I’d broken that trust.

  Tears stung my eyes, and I made myself nod. “Yes, Master. I do understand.”

  “So you can obey.” His voice was caustic. He released me and stepped back. “Assume the position.”

  Six men, three strikes each, and an extra three strikes for my absent master, Steel. Maker, kill me now.

  Summoning all my resolve, I took a deep breath, flexed my hands, and then did as I was told.

  Kneeling on all fours, the hard forest floor bit into my knees, the patchy tufts of grass there making my skin itch. Shame washed over me at the awareness of my position. My ass bared and raised for all to see, I’d rarely felt so vulnerable as this, yet my muscles tightened with need. My own breathing sounded loud in my ears.

  The men hadn’t even started yet, and already my body was going haywire.

  Feeling all eyes on me, I willed my breathing to steady, my heart to slow.

  Behind me, Sheriff’s boots scraped the ground as he moved closer.

  “Look at this pretty little ass.” His palm covered one cheek, bringing sudden heat that, in contrast to the cool caress of the night air on my skin, made me jump. “It’ll look so nice, turned red from our hands. Don’t you think, men?”

  All around me, Doc’s, Crash’s, and T-Man’s chuckles rippled. Their amusement sounded somewhat muted, though. I hoped they knew they were only here for the purpose of adding to my discipline, because my body belonged to the Four alone.

  To my left, Hawk made a low, hungry sound in his throat. The sound stroked my clit like an eager tongue.

  From somewhere, I heard Pretty Boy hum in agreement with Sheriff. “Just perfect. Too bad Steel has to miss this.” I could hear his smile.

  Sheriff chuckled at that, and his palm roamed over my ass cheek, then over the other, warming each one. The sensation made my blood hot, and my nipples bunched. In some effort to rebel, I nearly straightened, but instead, gripped the tufts of grass under my palms.

  Sheriff gave my right ass cheek a light swat. Revving me up, or just asserting his authority? Either way, I hissed at the sting, and the burn made my sex tighten.

  Again, his boots scraped the ground, this time moving away. “Crash.”

  A quiet snicker reached my ears before Crash covered it with a cough. His cane made a steady, quiet thump on the ground with each step as he walked behind me. Then silence before I heard an intake of his breath.

  Was he just steeling himself? It occurred to me to wonder if he would rather it had been Cherry bent over in front of him like this. Crash didn’t seem the disciplinarian type, but he’d have to learn to perform this task this sooner or later with Cherry.

  If the situation had been different, I might have smiled.

  There was silence for a moment longer, and then…

  Crash’s palm cracked down just hard enough to sting. It hit squarely on my right cheek, and I stiffened. He hadn’t hit that hard, and yet, with my senses buzzing, the sound rang through the night like one of Saketh’s flashbangs.

  Another crack, this time on my other cheek, and I whimpered.

  Crack. My left cheek burned.

  Sheriff cleared his throat. Right. I was supposed to say thank you.

  I lifted my head as Crash came around in front of me, but suddenly I couldn’t look at him. There was too much between us; this situation was too odd. I dropped my gaze to the ground.

  “Thank you for my punishment, sir.”

  “Look at me, Setora.”

  The easy command in his voice startled me. I raised my eyes.

  “One of those swats was for Cherry. You know she would have kicked your ass if she’d been here.” His eyes twinkled as he stepped slowly away from me.

  That look relieved the tension between us, and I loved him a little right then.

  Crash went back to his place.

  “Good job.” Sheriff. “Doc?”

  I heard Doc murmur something—to Diamond, I thought—then his footsteps sounded behind me.

  Fresh guilt wreaked havoc on me. I’d come to look up to Doc, and I hated the fact that I’d lost his respect. That I’d let him down.

  There was a familiar clink of metal and then the swoosh of leather. I tensed. Light, I knew what weapon he’d chosen.

  In my peripheral, I saw him wrapping the end of his belt around his fist. I squeezed my eyes shut shut.

  Leather cut the air. Doc’s belt hit me right across both cheeks, a single flash of pain. I hissed.

  Another whipping sound, and then another flash that seared the skin. I bit back a whine. My eyes watered, and yet
I had the feeling he could have hit a lot harder.

  As he brought down his final lash, Doc said nothing.

  His boots came into my line of vision. I lifted my head, forcing myself to meet his solemn gaze.

  “Thank you for my punishment, sir.” My voice trembled.

  He gave a single nod, then returned to his place beside Diamond while he threaded and did up his belt. He’d gotten the job done, detached, matter of fact.

  “T-Man,” Sheriff said. “Your turn.”

  Oh Maker, T-Man. The man had never done anything that hinted at brutality or gave me reason to fear him, but he’d never been exactly nice to me, either. T-Man was an enigma, and I didn’t know what to expect from him. There was an unmistakable hardness to the Legion’s executioner that always made me curious. Not to mention—for reasons I still didn’t understand—my best friend, one of the toughest women I knew, was terrified of him.

  Before I had a chance to wonder what he’d choose to use on me, T-Man moved quickly in behind me. His palm came down hard on my ass, three quick, but concise times, each stroke stinging more than the last. He wasn’t cruel, but each blow had enough force to jostle and knock a whimper out of me.

  He’d been quick, as if to get it over with.

  When I thanked him, he tsked and shook his head at me.

  “Always causing trouble, aren’t you?” He tapped me on the nose, of all things, then went back to his place beside the others.

  “Who will take Steel’s place?” Sheriff’s voice brought back every drop of tension in an instant.

  “Oh, I will. Gladly.” The roughness in Pretty Boy’s voice made me look up in time to see him rubbing his hands together.

  His volunteering to step up for my Gladiator master made perfect sense. Steel was his best friend, connected to him by a bond that went beyond club brotherhood. A wave of guilt chased away the heat his voice created in my core.

  “So gorgeous.” He was behind me now, his warm palm caressing my ass cheeks like he was memorizing every curve. He flicked one cheek with his fingers right where Doc’s belt strap still burned the skin, and I jumped.

  His hand slapped my right cheek with a loud crack. The sting made my nipples harden to pinpoints. He made a deep, satisfied sound in his chest. By now, the hard ground had started to sting my knees, which somehow only heightened my arousal.

  The second slap hit my other cheek like fire. My core throbbed in a way the other men’s ministrations hadn’t accomplished. Pretty Boy paused, and then two of his fingers slid through the wetness between my legs.

  “Oh, she’s enjoying this, Sheriff. She’s soaked. Do you think she deserves to feel pleasure from this?” His voice was mocking. For the first time in weeks, his tone reminded me of the way he’d been at the Grotto when I’d first met him, when he and Steel had kidnapped me.

  If Sheriff said anything, I didn’t hear it.

  Pretty Boy stroked my core again, and I wriggled into his touch. Shame scalded my cheeks when I heard Sheriff hum his approval.

  The last strike from Pretty Boy’s hand was almost hard enough to make me borrow one of Cherry’s curse words. I cried out.

  “For Steel,” he growled.

  Silence. It dawned on me what he was waiting for, and I thanked him in Steel’s name.

  Pretty Boy gave my hair a tug. Then his lips brushed my ear. “And these are for me.”

  My breath froze and for one long heartbeat, it felt like time had become suspended, as if he might never strike the first blow officially meant for him. Then…

  One. Two. Three. The strikes rained down on my ass, one after the other, with enough pause between each to drag them out and rev up my anticipation until I was almost drunk with it.

  By the time he was done, tears streaked down my face. A sense of justice settled over me, swirling through a fog of unfathomable lust. I wanted to beg for his forgiveness; only my actions were beyond forgiving, especially for him.

  I thanked my Master, and his heated gaze made my core wetter.

  Pretty Boy went back to the line, and Sheriff spoke again.

  “Hawk.”

  My eyes slid closed and a mix of dread and dark need coiled in my muscles. Hawk’s Yantu training made him an incredibly controlled man who could be staggeringly gentle when he chose, but I’d also seen him at his most brutal, the pirate who took without asking and demanded everything I had. Which side would I see now?

  Footsteps. Then two of Hawk’s fingers ran down the length of my back, right down the length of the Dark Legion’s mark that covered it. I shivered.

  “Are you getting wetter, Kitten?” He squatted low beside me, and his voice was in my ear, but he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.

  I gripped the grass so hard I almost pulled it out of the ground, my whole body shuddering from his words alone. Moisture slicked my sex, coating my thighs with nothing to contain it. My nipples were painfully hard, and I was sopping wet.

  “Yes, Master,” I whispered.

  “Louder, so they can hear you,” Hawk commanded.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He came around in front of me. I looked up, meeting those gorgeous yellow eyes. He took a long strip of red silk cloth out of the inside of his cut and showed it to me. The cloth was about the same width and length of a scarf. He wrapped the end of it around his powerful fist. I scrunched my brows at the odd choice of weapon.

  “Nice,” Sheriff said as Hawk joined him behind me.

  Two fingers barely stroked my core, just enough to make me rock my hips into Hawk’s touch.

  Then the first strike landed.

  There was a loud snap. My ass cheek seared with heat. Something about the way the cloth struck told me he’d delivered the blow for maximum pain. I whined.

  Another snap and an agonizing sting cut across my other cheek. For a simple strip of cloth, it hurt like the fires of hell.

  I forced my body not to pull away, arching my back, gripping the grass with white knuckles, my arms shaking with the effort to remain locked in position. My mind scrambled to avoid the last strike, but there was no way out of it without disobeying Sheriff.

  Hawk snapped the cloth on a fresh part of my other cheek for the final time. My eyes watered, I almost screamed, and wetness ran down my legs.

  “Such a good slave.” His hand stroked my hair, and rare amusement dripped from his tone. Irritation nearly had me bolting upright.

  I had to be strong. Had to take what was mine and give Hawk—and each of my men—what was theirs.

  I thanked my warrior master, my voice hoarse. His boots moved away from me.

  I gulped, knowing what was coming. My head dropped, my hair falling to the ground. Cool air caressed the bare back of my neck. Another man’s hand slid around my nape. Silver rings heated his fingers. Sheriff. His chest warmed my back as he leaned over me.

  “My turn, sweetheart.” His voice oozed hunger.

  Every muscle in me tensed at the savage promise there. My breathing sawed in and out. How I even kept this position, I didn’t know.

  Moments like this, I had to wonder what kept someone from falling apart, from breaking free of whatever unseen tether kept one from bolting and giving into the instinct for self protection. Whatever the case, somehow I found my last scrap of strength and remained still.

  Three more swats to go.

  From him.

  Sheriff walked around me, slapping that switch against his leather-clad palm, as if to remind me of what he intended to rain down on me. The sharp cracks matched the hammer of my heart, the thud of the blood in my ears.

  None of the men here had made me feel so much the slave as he did now, not even Hawk.

  “One more time. Why are you being punished, slave?”

  The bitter taste of my own defiance burned the back of my throat. Tears filled my eyes from a pain that went far deeper than any blow could cause.

  “Because I disobeyed you, Master.”

  “Good girl.” He went in behind me. The switch thwack
ed into his hand. My ass cheeks clenched, my core burned.

  Sheriff stepped forward and tapped my right ass cheek, then the left, each three times. Testing the switch, or perhaps just enjoying the sight of it on my skin. I hissed between my teeth.

  He stepped back and there was silence.

  My breath froze in my lungs.

  Crack!

  The switch came down with controlled force that didn’t break the skin, yet it burned like a hot poker to the flesh. I’d never remembered beatings hurting like this when I was a child. I let out a sob.

  The switch cut the air, thwacking softly against something, his palm or his leg. I flinched, and my body went taut, my teeth clenched.

  Crack!

  Pain blazed, and I let out a wail. Diamond cursed. I heard Emmy crying softly. Shame burned far deeper than Sheriff’s switch, a jagged blade that cut across my heart. I cried—for the pain, for myself. For Steel. For Pretty Boy, for all of them.

  Curse words raced through my mind, each word Cherry had tried to get me to say. Someone made a surprised sound, and it hit me that I’d said one of them out loud.

  Sheriff stepped back again. The silence, the wait dragged forever. The wait for the last blow.

  Crrrack!

  A last sob broke free, and then another, and then another. My own weakness crushed me, but I couldn’t silence them.

  There was a soft thwack—the switch hitting a tree—and Sheriff grabbed my shoulders. He pulled me upright, leaning me against him. His chest heaved as heavily as mine. One of his hands slid around to my chin, pulling it up so that I had to look everyone in the eyes. His mouth brushed my ear, the single caress bringing a strange urge to pull away from him, yet lean into him, all at once.

  Not that I had a choice. My legs were jelly; if he’d have let me go, I’d have collapsed to the ground in a heap.

  “What do you say, slave? What do you say when your masters give you what you need?”

  I closed my eyes, and hot tears splashed my cheeks. “Thank you. Thank you, Masters, for my punishment.”

  It made no sense, but I meant it. I meant it because I’d needed it, and because it was finally over.

  Voices rose in affirmation, and I sagged against Sheriff. His arm went around my waist, holding me tight to him. He kissed my temple gently, then spoke, making me open my eyes.