Page 53 of A Brat's Tale
Fuck. His fingers feel good. I push down, trying to fuck them, moaning, writhing. He smiles from above me as he gets his dripping cock ready to enter me. He slides in slow, taking his time. Everything about this has a gentle feel I’m not used to with him. Corrik’s still hesitating and I understand. Not only is this our first time since I’ve returned, but I’m new. He’s getting to know me again. And Corrik’s changed too; he’s letting me get to know him.
He slides in giving me time to adjust around his large member. He starts with slow thrusts, working his way into me, not just with this cock, but withhimand I feel all of his vulnerability. He may have talked a big game, about time healing all and how we’d laugh about this blip in time in the future and how I’d eventually come to understand, but he was afraid of losing me forever.
At this moment, I discern something.
That’s the curse of being a Top—doing the things you feel are within your role to do, at the risk of your brat hating you forever. All you can do is hope that one day, they see your intent as a whole, rather than focus on how miserable they are in the moment.
A brat having respect for their Top’s role is important.I need to do better.It doesn’t mean I have to like what he’s doing, but I can still have respect for his role which is to keep me safe; we need to be a team. I’m getting a better sense of what’s gone on for him; his failure to protect me, the nightmare of thinking I was being abused and mistreated and risking my hatred to do what he feels will keep me safe.
All of it breaks my heart, tears begin streaming down my face. He’s tearing up too as he continues to thrust into me, bringing us both closer to orgasm, until we fall over the edge of climax, Corrik spilling his seed into me, and me spilling onto my belly. He pulls me into his arms after and I enjoy being surrounded by him.
“Oh D’orhai, I was so afraid. I’ve never been so afraid of anything in my life.”
“I understand now, Corrik. I don’t like it, but I understand.”
“Fair.”
We fall asleep like that; life becomes more hopeful
The next morning, we eat breakfast together, naked, as we plan for my family’s arrival, which could be at any time.
“Corrik? May I have a bow?” I get the idea suddenly. Maybe he’d feel more comfortable with that than a sword.
“Is it your mission in life to see the first Elven heart attack?”
I laugh. “No, but your vision is of me with a sword, not a bow. I am good with a bow.”
He leans back in this chair, his large cock standing upright, horny again, which is a feat. It was a long night of fucking and getting reacquainted. I have bruises. “You may have a bow. I’ll have something special made for you. Now come here. If you’re finished with that, I must have you again.”
Corrik fucks me over the table, we make a huge mess, the breakfast dishes crash everywhere. For the first time, I think about the servant who will have to clean up this mess. I’ve lived as a spoiled brat in some ways for most of my life. The time as Bayaden’s manservant has given me a new perspective.
In preparation for my parents, I get dressed. It’s one thing for me to be a fucking brat for Corrik, but Father is another matter. I’m stressed about it actually, and I run about like a chicken with my head cut off. “Tristan,” Corrik says in his deep voice. “Do you need a spanking?”
Probably, but I’ll never admit it. “No. I’ll be fine, I just … how about you help me make my hair look nice? You’re just standing there.”
His eyes turn to slits before I’m thrown over his shoulder and he carts me off toward the bed. “We don’t have time for this, Corrik.”
“We have plenty of time.”
Corrik has gotten too efficient at baring my bottom and placing me over his knee. I can’t help relishing in the feel of the large Elf’s thick thighs even though my arse is already tingling, knowing it’s about to be roasted. He doesn’t give me time to think about it for too long, his hand is coming down rapidly.
I’m too provoked by the thought of my parents’ arrival to sink into the spanking, to even think about accepting it. I kick and resist and complain. “Ow! Ow, Corrik. This isn’t nice.”
“Is this what you want your parents to walk in and see? You having your bottom warmed?”
“No, and if you would stop, there wouldn’t be any worry about it. Yowwch!” Rule number one—never get sassy with thy spanker, it can’t end well. Corrik thinks my lip means I need him to spank me harder, so he does. Quickly, my arse is scorched, and I’m groaning, feeling sorry for myself.
But then magic happens. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to explain it. After all the fight is out of me and the throb in my arse has reached new heights, I melt. I finally accept that this is happening, and that Corrik isn’t letting me up until I let go and release the tension from my body.
It’s a submission thing, and it happens when I’ve been spanked long enough. I don’t know what else to tell you, but this is what happens for me every damn time. Even when I think it won’t, eventually it happens. Sometimes it happens sooner, sometimes later. Whatever the rhyme and reason, a knot disappears, and I release a good portion of the anxiety holding me hostage. When he stands me up, I feel a world better. He looks me over. “You need another spanking, but we’ll let this one sink in first.”
“Another?” I complain pulling up my pants over my tender arse. “That’s hardly fair. I haven’t even done anything.”
“Yet. You haven’t done anything yet, and I’ll be keeping it that way, understand?”
My lip wobbles. “Yes sir.”
“Come here, my darling. Everything will be all right.”
