Page 65 of The Dragon Warlord
Corrik is unique. He doesn’t operate with any specified set of rules. He does what I need, which isn’t always what either of us likes, and yet, we’re soothed at the end of the day. I guess that puts him in the “sometimes enjoys my naughty behavior and sometimes doesn’t” category.
“Then perhaps there’s been a mistake,” I’d said. “We’re not a good match.”
Rayne didn’t agree. “I think he’s a good alpha to throw in the mix for your dragon side because he’s a tad ruthless. You need some of that. Perhaps not as much as he’s been giving you, but you’ll find your grove. The rest can be looked after between your men.”
I liked that conversation because it was one that talked about my men, and it gave me hope that I wouldn’t be stuck in The Tower for the rest of eternity.
Shortly after that conversation, I was told that I’d be scheduled at the discipline academy. Instead of going to the dragon lord, I stormed into Rayne’s office. “So now he doesn’t have the time to look after me?”
Rayne shook his head. “I thought you’d be pleased about that. Or do you want him spanking your naughty arse?”
I didn’t, but I didn’t want just anyone doing it. “Not to worry, Warlord. We’re just going to try something different. A variety of energies. I have volunteered my services and so have a few others of us. Tristan will handle your punishments and see you for discipline once a month.”
You have to have your alpha’s permission to use the discipline academy freely. River, for instance, does not have permission to use the place as he did before, which wasn’t often anyway. He doesn’t need as much discipline as I do. I don’t have a standing session for him. I read him through the month and make my best call. With River, it’s more about him feeling like he’s mine than it is because he needs to quiet any chaos within him. He’s the pinnacle of obedience most of the time.
I have an extra session per week I can use. I scoffed at first, thinking I’d never need it, but I have. I was told I may ask for extra—another thing I scoffed at—and then I did. Not with words, of course. I bratted my way into those spankings like a proper brat should.
I go alone tonight. River asked if he could turn in early and I didn’t question it. Maybe he wanted to …fuck. He’s going to stroke his cock to the hot alpha crush he has, isn’t he? Maybe he’ll get some discipline this week to show him how mine he is.
I pick up the pace and carry on down to the academy. It’s on the same floor as the dragon lord’s discipline room, but I go right instead of left. It’s an oddly cozy place for what it is, reminding me of an Elven spa rather than a healing clinic. There’s a dragon at the front desk and I guess it’s my lucky day. There are only a couple of other dragons waiting their turn. Everyone moves to bow when I enter, but I stop them. “No need for that, unless you need to.”
The Warlord’s prayer is thought to be a protection spell as if they can pledge their loyalty to me through a prayer and that will somehow help them. Whatever gets them through the day. One of the waiting dragons bows to do the prayer while I head to the woman at the desk.
“Warlord, we weren’t expecting you for another two days.”
Smiling at her, I lay on the brat charm. I can’t help myself. I want to be here, and I don’t. Charm is the comfortable place I know. “I’d like to use my extra session, if that’s all right, ma’am.”
She brightens. “You know you don’t need to call me ma’am. Of course, I can get you in. Have a seat and I’ll call you when we’re ready for you.”
I don’t wait long and then I’m led down the now familiar jade stone hallways to a private room. There is a setup I know well, waiting for me and I cringe. It’s a specific spanking bench, one that simulates being over someone’s knees, but with a high and padded platform, shaped like a cylinder at hip height so that my arse will be on display for whoever is going to take that unassuming wooden paddle to my bare arse.
It's a thick wooden paddle. Round. About the size of a pancake with a handle.
“Rayne says to take everything off and place yourself on the bench. He’ll be in momentarily.”
Rayne. Thank fuck. My racing heart slows down. He’s my favorite. I ended up liking all Tristan’s husbands, even Lux who can be a tad cold at times, but there’s something about Rayne. I think because he reminds me of Bay.
Stripping down to nothing, I hand my clothes neatly and lay over the bench. Nothing about discipline is negotiable in Dragon Land. If you’re told to strip, you do. If you’re told to bend over, you do. I’ve learned the hard way that disobedience escalates a discipline session to punishment.
Punishment for an omega is always decided by their alpha. My alpha goes straight to the dragon whip, which is the nastiest implement in existence. He has zero tolerance for disobedience. I see that thing far more than I want to so it’s not worth it to squabble over a little bit of nudity or a bench like the one I’m facing now.
Humility is part of a spanking and especially now that I’ve seen a spanking from both sides of the gold coin, I get that even if it’s hard to do. It’s supposed to be hard to do. If it were an easy process, it wouldn’t break me down so that I could build back up.
Spanking is about ripping open. Being vulnerable. Letting go. It doesn’t work if it’s easy.
Besides, there’s no funny stuff here. During one of my tantrums, I ranted that I have husbands, so they’d better not get frisky. They assured me no one ever would without my consent and the dragon lord himself gave me full leave to break the arm of anyone who tried anything sexual. I’ve come to learn that for all his foibles, the dragon lord has some morals. He’d probably finish off whoever tried to take advantage of me by ripping out their throat with his teeth. His husbands never would, and my standing appointments feature one of them, but the extra ones can sometimes be a wild card alpha.
I climb up the bench and kneel over it, gripping the straps and getting as comfortable as I can in this position.
The door clicks open and then shuts again.
“Good evening, Warlord,” Rayne’s smooth voice says. I can’t see him in my compromising position, but I know what he looks like by heart, so I picture his wavy, long red hair, and his warrior’s physique. He has kind cornflower blue eyes and a smile to match. He always wears shirts with an open V-neck that displays the red curls of hair over his barrel-sized chest.
“Hello, sir.”
There is protocol. I’m to call him sir unless he invites me to call him something else. A wild card alpha would still have to refer to me as Warlord, but the dragon lord’s husbands are permitted to call me Tristan if they like.
“I’m surprised to see you here two days early. Do you feel like sharing? Or shall I just get to it?”
