Page 61 of Tristan
Whackagain. I get the hint when the riding crop hits my other nipple and clamp my mouth shut. He’s standing over me again, this time daring me—hoping—I’ll say another word or make another move so he can hit me again. He likes it. A serene smile spreads cheek to cheek. He’s in his element. “Eyes. Down.”
I look down at the floor where his boots are, they are as fastidious as he is. I continue to stare at them until his boots click away and he resumes sitting on the armchair. I can’t see them, but I can feel his eyes on me. They watch me and savor. Me kneeling before him like this brings him peace.
“Yes, Corrik,” he says.
“Huh?” I look up and remember too late my eyes are to be on the floor. My nipples are each assaulted with the crop, and I have to rub them with my hands to get the sting out.
“Take your hands away. Did I say you could touch yourself?” He waits.
“No?”
“No, Corrik. Say it,” he demands.
“No, Corrik.”
“Better.” That’s all he offers, then the bastard sits down again, comfortable as you please, while my knees press against the wood floor and ache. I squirm, uncomfortable and Corrik lets me know he can make it a whole lot more uncomfortable for me by whacking my poor, stinging nipples again. I twist this time and contract my muscles, trying to pull the pain away from them and keep my hands off.
“Thank me for correcting you.”
Fuck that,I say without words. He hears it loud and clear anyway and uses the crop on my chest this time. My eyes sting with tears. “Corrik that bloody wellhurts.”
He hits me harder for speaking out of turn. I inhale sharply, but I say nothing more.
“Now, apologize and thank me for correcting you.”
I don’t want to apologize to him, and I don’t want to thank him for beating my nipples, but I do want him to hit me less.
“I’m sorry. Thank you for correcting me.”
That Gods damn leather tongue of the evil black rod is lashing my nipples again.What did I do?
“I’m sorry,Corrik.Thank you for correcting me,Corrik.Sayit.”
“I’m sorry, Corrik. Thank you for correcting me, Corrik.” When I get out of this position, I will hurt him. I don’t know how, just that I will. If Diekin survived Corrik’s wrath, maybe he’ll help me.
“Good, boy. Now remain still and silent. Eyes down,” he says again as I eye the black rod with dread. Why does that thing hurt so much? It must be imbibed with Elven magic. I can still feel every place he’s marked and count each welt without looking.
Now that I know what’s in store for me, I’m silent as a mouse. I can guarantee Corrik’s not going to hear a peep out of me but remaining stationary is another story. My legs are aching all up my thighs, and my shoulders begin to strain after more time has passed.
The whole time, Corrik watches.
I move several more times and earn more chastisement. Each time I’m expected to thank Corrik for correcting me. Each time I do.
Finally, he’s decided I’ve had enough.Hecould never tire of whatever game this is, I’m sure. I accept his action for the mercy it is. I don’t think he minds my discomfort, I think he relishes in it.
I hear him rise from his seat and his boots click over to me. He grabs my chin and tilts it up toward him gently, while I gaze at him, too stunned to move. “You have done well, my Tristan,” he says. His eyes shine with pride, and I get warm all over. His praise melts me instantly and I forget about killing him. Corrik doesn’t look at me likethis often, but when he does, I feel like the most important thing in the world. I can’t tear my eyes away and hope he’ll look at me forever.
He didn’t call me by my Elvish name, he called me Tristan. My brain searches to find a meaning to all of this.
He releases my chin. “Now press your forehead to the floor while maintaining that position with your arse on your heels.”
In a euphoric daze, I don’t question his instruction and put my forehead to the floor. Naturally, I stretch my arms above my head. It’s like I’m bowing to someone of great royalty and well, I suppose I am.
“Very good, Kathir. Remember all I have taught you tonight. Sleep well.”
I know he’s about to leave so I break my position. “Corrik, wait. Don’t leave me alone again tonight.Please.” I might have been a scary junior warlord, but that didn’t stop me sleeping in Lucca’s bed some nights. I don’t care for sleeping alone.
“I don’t recall telling you to rise,” he says.
