Page 70 of A Brat's Tale
It would also show him how much I trust him, how much I’m devoted to him—I haven’t been good at that. Yes, I had a right to be angry, but I took it out on him and that was poor behavior. It hasn’t escaped my notice that when Father agreed that keeping me locked away was what was best until I became Elf, I didn’t argue. I didn’t like the idea any more than I had, but I worked to accept it. I didn’t even try for Corrik or for what was between us.
Corrik must have noticed, but he didn’t say anything about it.
It’s time for me to do something for him.
Engaging in sexual acts with Strobavik won’t be a hardship. He’s beautiful and terrifying, which is one thousand percent my type. “I consent, sir. I would like to learn both protocols.”
He nods. “Then do you agree to obey me?”
“I do, sir.”
“All right, then we shall begin. From here on out you will refer to me as, Master Strobavik. You will be punished if you do not.”
As promised, Master Strobavik teaches me things like formal protocol for the royal court, formal protocol for meals and even relaxed protocol for semi-formal meals. There are informal meals too, like what Corrik and I had with his parents when we first arrived, where protocol is not required and can be instituted or not at the Dom or Top’s discretion.
I am surprised to learn there are special allowances for the king’s consort, even though in some cases protocol is more restrictive. For instance, when meeting with dignitaries from beyond the realm, I’m permitted full dress should my husband allow it, versus the half or “no dress” protocols at other levels of the royalty hierarchy.
Strobavik explains one of the marked differences between slave designation and submissive. “You will exist for his pleasure and hispleasure only, Tristan. This is the way of things with Master and slave. Someone who is slave inside doesn’t need to be told this, it’s what they long for as well.”
“Then why are you telling me, Master Strobavik?”
I get one of his piercing glares for that, because yeah, I’m being cheeky. I’m not supposed to speak unless I have permission. I’m not good at following that rule and often earn punishment for my big mouth.
“That. You are not slave. You are brat.”
I don’t need a reprimand to look to the floor for that one. He tilts my chin up to look into his eyes. So far, it’s been learning how to kneel for long periods of time and being tied up in various positions so I could build endurance. Master Strobavik warned me that today he plans on taking it to a new and sexual place.
Training hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be. It’s not been easy and Master Strobavik is a grueling taskmaster, but instead of inspiring despair, I’m driven to do better, to get it right. Most of the things we do bring me to a calm and grounded place. It reminds me of being on the field with my father.
His declaration is true and previously I had been proud of my brat status. I love everything about being a brat but when I’m striving to be the perfect slave or submissive, locking the brat in me away, it’s difficult. I’ve had the wish that my inner brat would just go away. “I know you are doing the best you can,” he says in his thick accent, “but you need to fake it better. The prince will not be pleased if you talk out of turn like that.”
“Yes, Master Strobavik.”
“That doesn’t change what you are. This is why I’m telling you so you can work to create it within you.”
There’s a lot I want to say to that, but I don’t, behaving like a good “slave” should.
“But you know, naughty kitten, just because you are brat, this does not mean you don’t contain aspects of both slave and submissive within your character. You can get to levels of deeper submission—you have the skill for it, I’ve seen glimpses. I may not be the one to bring it out in you but it’s there.”
I’m not sure I agree with that. Yes, I’ve reached some intense levels of subspace, but could I go deeper than I have?
He lets go of my chin. “Today we move on. From here on out, you won’t be allowed to orgasm unless you have Alrik’s permission. I have been given the guidelines as to how you will earn that permission. You will have to satisfy the guidelines and please me as well. Do you understand?” His ears move with the sharp edge of his voice.
Ugh. That’s gonna be tough. All of this submission stuff turns me on. Humiliation is my thing and I find everything Master Strobavik does to me embarrassing enough that it lights up my cock whether I want it to or not. “Yes, Master Strobavik.”
I’m kneeling at his feet, my arms are behind my back, hands linked to opposite wrists. The stones are cool under my toepads and I recall the warm sandstone under my feet in the hallways in Aldrien—those days seem so long ago.
“Today we begin to build your endurance to that end. When you are with Prince Alrik, you won’t be allowed to orgasm often. When he permits release, you must show him proper respect for allowing you such an honor.”
It won’t come to that. Corrik will be home any day now. I envision him stalking through the door like the predator he is. I’ll serve him in the ways he likes, ways that are far less constricting than Alrik’s demands.
“Up on the bed, on all fours.”
I crawl over to the bed—he didn’t tell me to get up, I’m not getting caught out on that one again—and climb onto the large mattress as gracefully as I can. I remember Tom moving from kneeling to standing positions, he was damn near artistic with his movements. I am nowhere close to that.
I get into position and sure enough, Master Strobavik’s crop is landing sharply on my arse. “Arse out, Tristan.”Crack!“Not good enough.”Crack!“Arch your back.”Crack!
I bite my tongue because yeah it fucking hurts, but complainingonly gets you morewhacksfrom Strobavik’s crop. When I’m finally in position to his liking, I’ve got several sore patches of skin complaining at me and my eyes are wet in the corners.
