Page 23 of A Brat's Tale
“And I’m a flea-ridden human. Yeah, yeah, I get it.”
I expected anger, in the least Bayaden brand annoyance, but I got neither. Instead, his eyes were soft, with desperate lines wrinkling the corners. “Undress, Tristan. I want you again. I’ll even let you keep the knife.”
“I don’t want you,” I whispered, but even as I did, I felt my cock harden. His breath quickened in his large, muscled chest and he lifted me easily from under my backside as he started in on my mouth, my thick thighs wrapped around him. I dropped the knife. He kissed and sucked, and I responded, running my hands through the silk of his dark hair. He was gentle at that time.
He placed me on his bed, then ripped my pants off, the gentle slipping away, which made me feel better; the familiarity was good. He stopped there and stared down at me, looking over my body, his hand resting on my tattoo. He traced it. “What is it about you?” he said tohimself, in Elvish. I was able to make the words out with the little of the language I knew at the time.
“What about me?” I asked.
“Whataboutyou?”
“You just asked, ‘what is it about me?’”
“How would you know what I’ve said?”
“I knowsomeElvish.”
“Your Elvish is terrible. That isn’t what I said.” Of course, he denied it. “Enough talking,” he said. In one Elven-sized bite, he swallowed my cock, and I pushed against his head with my hands;fuck, he’s good at sucking cock.
“Mhmmmm,” I moaned, unable to help myself. “Baya.” He popped his mouth off my cock then sucked it down again. “Gods!”
I lost track of how long he sucked, spellbound. My hips bucked in time with the rhythm of his mouth and I built to climax. Just before I could release in his mouth, he was gone, and I cursed him. He flipped me over savagely and his tongue was in my most private place. I had to grip one of his pillows tightly and slam my fist down, the sensation almost too much because it just felt naughty. I moaned again and tried to restrain myself. “I’m going to come if you don’t stop that.”
I felt the slippery lube in my arsehole, felt fingers and then his cock, slamming into me. When he came, so did I, both of us were left panting, him having collapsed over my back and me on the soft plush of his linens. They are so much comfier than mine. We were like that for only seconds until he was roughly rolling me off his bed and onto mine beside his.Thud. “Get back to work.”
Arse.
I did, but only because I needed something to distract me. We’d just had sexagain,and I just enjoyed itagain.I polished the boots hard, channeling my mounting feelings into the task. I finished one boot and began another, but the feeling wouldn’t leave me.
I polished the next boot until it had a hole—I knew Bayaden would be furious, but I smiled to myself, the itchy feeling still there, and I came to know something. It didn’t matter what “everybody” said about me, it mattered what I said, how I felt about what I’d done. Ihave to carry the weight of my actions. If I could make the choice again, I’d make the same one, but I didn’t expect to like it so much and that’s what I felt I needed to repent for.
At the time I didn’t know that there was any repentance for it.
I dropped the boot, the one with the hole.
I looked to Bayaden; he was fast asleep. I didn’t bother to grab my pants, and crept out of the room, straight to Ando’s.
“You again, already? I assume this has to do with my brother’s intense sexual appetite?”
I wanted to slit his throat; I still might one day. “Please, not now,” I begged. I knew the protocol and knelt before him bowing my head this time. “Will you, will you, do the thing, sir?” My voice was broken. I didn’t want to ask him this; it was another way I was betraying Corrik.Only Corrik had ever punished me quite like this.“Spank me. Please.” I had to push the words out, they felt unnatural on my tongue.
“Very well.” He pushed his chair away from his desk and I remained kneeling in place like Corrik taught me; hands clasped behind my back with straight arms, arse cheeks resting on my heels, toepads pressing into the stone. “Up here, then.”
Gracefully as I could, because it seemed formal, I rose to stand and placed myself over his lap. It was hard to believe that Tristan Kanes, former would-be-Warlord and Prince of Mortouge, would willingly put himself over his captor’s knee, naked,and askfor a spanking.
But there I was.
He was business-like, not taking the time to stop and smell the roses like Corrik did; he started in right away, slapping each cheek methodically. Where Corrik might have helped me by way of a prompt, with Andothair, I was left to prompt myself.Okay, Tristan, you can do this, why are you here? Why did you place yourself over his lap?That was as far as I got into my “process” when I realized—this bloody hurt!“Oww! Okay, I’ve changed my mind, I don’t need this, let me up. Let me up."
He ignored me and continued. The pain increased, and I started kicking, attempting to get up, figuring out that kicking decreased the pain somehow; I kicked more as I tried to escape. I threatened hiskingdom, his brother, his manhood, but all he did was stop briefly to put one of his thick legs over both of mine, so I could no longer squirm and continued. I grew angry, but I received the message: He wasn’t letting me up till this was over. Tears pricked my eyes over the frustration of the loss of control. I wanted it to be over, ithurt, I wanted to be off his lap.
I wished it were Corrik spanking me.
“We’re going to be here all day if you don’t let go, Tristan. Remember, my hand isn’t going to get tired,” he said.That was still just his hand?
He was right. I came here for a reason and I was getting it, whether I wanted it anymore or not. That’s when I began to cry, and I used the pain to make me cry more.Spanking is cathartic.
I took that thought, that one seed, and used it combined with the only prompt Andothair gave me, and I now realize he knew just the right one to begin with—let go. So I did. I allowed myself to release the heavy feeling of betrayal for what I did with Bayaden. A small part of me felt like I was paying a price, though I knew instinctively that was not always what spanking was used for, it did make me feel better.
