by Sadie Dane
"Calm down, foreign prince," she said, soothingly. "You’ve been an open book. So far you seem an honest man, so I'll return the favor. Take the potential's mouth. She is really quite good and you'd probably end up falling in love with mine." She trailed a single finger up his still erect penis. "Even with such a generous offer, I am not the type to fall in love."
His world blurred even more. He didn't want that other woman; he wanted his dancer, but before Corbin could work up the strength to say that, the inside of the tent began to spin like a child's toy. His last thought was that he might be sick, but then the room went black.
#
Corbin awoke the next morning with a raging headache rivaled only by his stiff and persistent hard-on. He immediately pictured the night before and was hit with a renewed wave of lust, but that was quickly replaced by anger. Pure and raging. He was a prince. He'd only traveled to this god-forsaken kingdom in order to keep peace and promote diplomacy. He did not appreciate being tricked and drugged.
With chagrin, he realized he had no idea how he came to be in this room. After splashing his face with tepid water he'd found in a wooden bowl by his bed, he noticed his belongings stacked in a neat pile in the corner. He could only assume he was in what would be his room during his time in Atvia, which would be a very short time, thankfully. As it was, he had no idea what corner of the palace he was in, or if he was even in the palace. If it weren't for the blistering heat and the bright, vibrant colors of the stone, he wouldn't know that he was even in Atvia.
Generally, Corbin was a reasonable, level-headed man. He enjoyed logic. He did not jump to action or let his feelings and biases rule his behaviors. He was angry now, but still racked his mind for a possible reason the girl would have to drug him. With this thought in mind-and perhaps the image of her perfect breasts- he left his room on a mission to find the young woman.
If any of the other soldiers he'd traveled with thought the events of the previous night were odd, they gave no impression of it. They greeted Corbin when he found them on an outside path as they had the entire trip, with a short grunt.
High General Cordveen approached him with a warm smile. "My friend, you are well rested?"
"Not really."
The High General chuckled. "My apologies, prince. I heard you were escorted into the tent. I was shocked to hear it. Foreigners are not generally permitted in the Welcoming Tent. When I heard you had been there, I assumed you had pulled a few favors to get such a great gift."
Corbin understood what he meant, even if he didn't agree while in his current state. "I find the drink was a little stronger than I am used to."
At this the High General laughed so loudly Corbin was sure there was a joke he had missed. "Oh Prince Corbin, you are amusing. They served the ale we brought from Ceravique at last night's welcoming party." He patted him on the shoulder, jovially. "I assume you are hungry. The dining hall is just that way." The High General pointed in the direction he had just been walking from before leaving Corbin fuming on the path.
He grabbed the first servant he could find. "Where can I find the female dancer?"
The servant looked at him with a blank expression.
"The woman." Corbin felt his frustration growing and forced himself to take a long, calming breath. "The entertainer in the Welcoming Tent."
Something in his question registered with the servant. His face lit up. "Oh, Hora, in garden," he responded with a thick accent while pointing in the direction of the garden.
Corbin had to flag down a few more people for directions. By the time he reached the gardens he could only assume the area had been named ironically. The only green thing in the space was the blanket the dancer, Hora the servant had called her, had lain out on the sand. She sat with her back against a barren, ash colored tree. There were several stone pillars that fashioned an arched entrance as well as a short stone fence surrounding the garden. The dancer sat with her back to Corbin, looking out onto the giant expanse of golden sand.
She looked different than the woman from the previous night. With her back against the tree and her face toward the desert, she seemed smaller and gentler, a ghost of the woman he'd watched dance. Her legs were tucked up and under her body and her hands were folded loosely in her lap. This sweet little beauty did not at all resemble the hedonistic seductress he had implanted in his memory.
His angry steps slowed and he stopped completely just at the entrance. The dancer picked up a thin twig and used it to doodle in the sand, an action he'd seen his younger sister perform many times when they were children. She looked even fairer now, sitting in the early morning sun. Immediately he felt guilty. He should've brought a blanket or something to help shield her fragile skin. A movement to the right of her caught his eye.
Corbin drew in a quick breath when he recognized the type of snake slithering towards her. Was this kingdom infested? he wondered. As he charged forward to protect her, he witnessed the tiny dancer extend her right hand. The snake slithered forward and stopped, nearly resting on her palm. Corbin froze, mid-heroics, and watched the dancer lift the poisonous snake up and towards her face, then gently kiss its docile head. She tenderly deposited the snake back onto the sand and it slithered away peacefully.
Who is this woman? Corbin wondered. At that moment, as if to truly prove a point, the dancer stood and with rapid, precise succession threw three blades into the trunk of a tree on the other side of the garden. Each knife lodged into the wood in a perfectly horizontal line.
"Nice throw."
As soon as Corbin spoke the woman whirled around with a snarl. He could see her transformation the moment she saw it was him. Her face softened, her gaze fell to his feet as if she was not able to look him in the face, a picture of subservience with her tiny hands clasped in front of her body. Corbin felt much of his control dwindling. This look of hers was an act, one that he would not allow. "Stop it," Corbin demanded.
She peeked up at him. "Stop what, Sir?" Even the tone of her voice was as soft as the gentlest breeze. Not at all the husky voice he remembered from the night before.
Corbin found he was halfway toward her before he even had the chance to command his body to move. He froze. What was this woman doing to his calm demeanor? He had sought her out only so that he could get answers. At least, that’s what he had told himself.
"Hora, what did you drug me with last night?" he asked with as much control as he could muster.
The woman smiled. "Hora is my title, Sir. My name is Gia, though you may call me whatever pleases you."
"Which would you like to be called?"
Gia frowned, perhaps the first display of emotion Corbin believed was genuine.
"Gia is fine," she responded slowly.
"Fine. Gia, what was in my drink?"
She smirked. "Nothing, Sir."
"Then what did you give me to drink?"
"Just tea, Sir. Blue lotus tea."
Corbin didn't have to know what a blue lotus was to know you probably didn't drink its tea on a Sunday afternoon.
"Why was I given a different drink than the other men?"
"Because I thought you needed to relax." Her reply was flippant, almost bored. Corbin didn't know if he preferred this attitude over the other. Neither felt real.
"Why was I even escorted to the tent?"
"Because I wanted to see you."
Corbin closed the remaining gap between them. He gripped her arms, fighting the desire to shake her.
"But, I can't imagine the damiana incense was something you are used to either," Gia continued, speaking as if she didn’t notice Corbin holding her so tight she would likely bruise.
"Just tell me why." Corbin worked at keeping his voice level. Even so, he was louder than he would've liked.
Gia looked up at him. As close as they were it looked as if she were offering her lips for a kiss. Corbin thought about it.
"I have been telling you why. Perhaps you need to listen better."
Corbin crushed her mouth w
ith his own. This was by no means his first kiss, but it was the first of its kind. He had no tenderness in his heart, only an unfamiliar urge to dominate. She was purposefully being sly and telling half-truths, and she needed to know that type of behavior would not be tolerated. Neither would sneaky behavior like the show she'd put on the night before.
He did not expect her reaction, that she would kiss him back with as much ferocity as he put into the brutal meeting of their lips.
Corbin heard someone clear their throat and he jumped away from Gia like she was a burning ember.
The two of them were surrounded by a handful of Atvian soldiers and a haughty man that Corbin guessed was the king. He viewed them with a guarded expression, but Corbin saw curiosity in the haughty man's eyes.
He spoke with a light accent, "Am I interrupting something, Hora?"
#
Gia searched her king’s face for a sign that he was upset. At times, she could see anger in the shape of his lips where others saw only curiosity or perhaps no expression at all. However, he was still a subtle man and there were times when his anger was sudden and unexpected.
As he'd asked a question, a response was expected of her. "No, my King." Her face must have flushed red, for she felt the burning at her cheeks. That was nothing compared to the tsunami of lust that the foreign prince's kiss had caused. She'd been surprised by her response, and more so by the way she still felt.
"Do I have to ask what is going on? Or will someone just simply tell me?" the king asked. Gia winced. He was angry, though she doubted anyone else was able to tell.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
"I came here to confront Gia."
"Gia?"
Corbin stammered and looked a little embarrassed. "Your hora."
"I know who Gia is, Prince," the king said coolly.
Gia felt like she should save the prince somehow. That was, until he spoke again.
"Do you also know that she drugged me last night? Is that how you generally treat your foreign diplomats?" It sounded as though the prince had recovered his anger.
"Is this true, Hora? Did you drug the prince?"
"My King, I…"
"Did you or didn't you?" He didn't raise his voice, he didn't have to. Gia felt herself shrink inward.
Even if she had been acting on the king's orders to observe the foreigner, it was her own fault for getting caught. She'd been too easy on the foreign prince. She should've brewed the tea a bit longer. Now, there would be no avoiding what was about to come. She lifted her head proudly. "Yes."
"Then you must be punished," he said not unkindly, simply as a matter of fact.
"Punished?" Corbin repeated.
The king rose a single eyebrow. "Unless you are not feeling aggrieved and this was all just a pretense to molest my hora?"
Gia recognized the kings words for what they were, a manipulation tactic. When he put it that way, he gave the prince no way of backing out.
"Of course not."
"Since she has confessed, we have no choice but to go directly to the Discipline Plaza." He motioned for the guards to retrieve her. To their credit they merely stood on either side of her. But she could already see the twinkle in their eyes.
The Discipline Plaza was a short walk from the gardens. Surrounded by four walls, the circular stage could be scene from all sides. Word traveled fast and the seats were filling up with spectators. Gia let herself be led to the stage. On it sat a sturdy table; she knew from experience that the wood would be soft against her skin, but that the straps would bite into her wrists if she struggled too hard.
To his credit, Prince Corbin at least looked apologetic as the guards bent Gia over and fastened the straps around her wrists. She laid her cheek against the soft, warm wood and waited.
"I believe bare bottomed, twenty if by hand, ten if by paddle and five if by cane, would be an appropriate punishment," the king said to Prince Corbin.
Gia gasped. Corbin wasn't going to be the one to spank her, was he? She had resigned to her punishment, was ready for it, but she was not prepared to have him be the one. She still felt a flipping in her stomach from their kiss. To have him touch her like that, in front of everyone, it felt like too much of a violation.
Corbin sounded like he had his own reservations. "What? Me? Here?"
Gia couldn't understand why the king was pressing the issue. In all of her visits to the Discipline Plaza only the king had ever spanked her. "I am not the one with the dispute," he replied.
"My King," Gia squeaked.
"Quiet, dear one, or it will be more."
She heard Corbin move into position. Gia held her breath. She thought she heard him mumble something inaudible, perhaps regarding the bizarre situation he found himself in. But then, his hand slid up her leg, gathering the fabric of her skirt with it. He was so close she heard his measured and steady breathing. Gia felt on the verge of hyperventilating.
She'd never enjoyed being spanked, and wasn't that the point? It was her punishment for disobeying the king. Generally, she would engage in some self-defeating or needlessly dangerous act, like the time she’d purposefully let a scorpion sting her during a competition with one of the knights. She’d gotten the cane that time.
Already, her body felt different in front of Corbin. The soft wood was less comforting. It was as if everyone around her, staring at her, had disappeared. She was scared, not of the pain that would come, but of how she would react to it.
Gia heard the paddle whoosh through the air moments before she felt it. Her first thought, thank the Gods, not the cane, followed secondly by a longing that he'd chosen twenty by hand instead. She wished for his hand against her body. Then the pain of the paddle registered and her numbered thoughts faded completely.
"One," she said, out of habit and good training.
"Two," Gia continued to count, proud of her ability to hold in her cries.
That lasted till around number six when her ass was so tender that the slap of the paddle felt like a thousand little pinpricks of pain rather than a solid wall. She cried out and immediately bit her lip. "Seven," she whimpered.
Gia thought suddenly that perhaps this was not the prince's first time. He was a merciless disciplinarian. Despite his initial objections, he'd rapidly morphed into a silent, determined figure behind her. He gave no outward indication that the experience affected him as it did her.
Beyond the pain, which was considerable as smack number eight rushed against her, she felt her entire body tingle. Her nipples had hardened as soon as his hand had slid up her leg and now they rubbed against the table with just enough pressure to drive her mad. Her legs and arms felt numb. But it was her pussy that was most demanding. Each spank vibrated through her sex. She knew she was wet. She knew that if he had wanted to, at that moment, he would be able to slide right into her. She didn't like the idea of the spectators noticing that fact and hoped beyond hope that the king could not see the proof of her arousal from his throne.
"Nine!" Gia cried out. There was a long pause, longer than all the others, but eventually she heard the incoming whistle. "Ten."
The Discipline Plaza remained silent except for her own whimpers and Prince Corbin's harsh breathing. The paddle clattered to the ground and she felt the prince's hand at the small of her back, his forehead rested in the spot beside his hand as if he had collapsed from the effort of punishing her. His ragged breaths were warm bursts of air on her skin. Too soon, the weight of him disappeared.
"Escort the hora to her chambers and have her potentials prepare a bath," the king ordered in a quiet, almost muted tone. Gia didn't have the strength to wonder if he was still angry with her.
Chapter Two
So far Gia's day was not going as she expected. She'd thought it over and the combination of blue lotus tea and alcohol should have made the events of the night before no more than a blur to the prince. Even with the shorter brewing time. What she hadn't accounted for was the effect of the damiana incense they
always burned in the torches to peak the men's arousal, and now her ass suffered for her oversight.
That also meant the prince remembered her dance, remembered her questions and the way she had welcomed the men back home with her body. She would not feel ashamed for fulfilling her duties, never had and would not start now, but Gia wasn't sure she liked Corbin having that particular memory.
"Ouch," Gia hissed.
"I am sorry, Hora," the potential murmured, continuing to apply the salve to her red, sore bottom.
Gia smiled gently. "Believe me, I know it isn't your fault." The potential batted her eyes coquettishly as Gia had taught her. "Yes? Do you have a question?"
She nibbled at her lip before speaking. "What is it like? The Discipline Plaza? The table?" she asked with equal parts fear and excitement. This potential had been in Atvia for a few months. She was smart and obedient, a combination that ensured her times on the table would be few, though Gia wondered if that was a good or bad thing.
"If you like, you can do something wrong and we can go to the table now," Gia joked.
The potential smiled. Her long blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, partially obscuring her face. "But then you would be the one to punish me."
"Yes as your hora it would be my duty to direct you."
"Is it different, having a man do it?" she asked hesitantly.
"The king is fair and knows what you need."
"But what about a man other than the king?"
Gia narrowed her eyes. "You should not worry about men other than the king, potential."
The potential's blue eyes widened in shock. "Oh, no, Hora, I did not mean to imply...." She began to weep.
Great. If the king saw this scene Gia would wind up back on the table. "Shh, it is okay." She murmured nonsensical sounds that were meant to comfort. The potential flung herself at Gia, wrapping her delicate arms around Gia's middle with her head on Gia's lap. She really is very sweet, Gia thought. It wouldn't be long until she was ready for graduation. "Today's punishment was...." Gia searched her room. They sat in her large bathing room. To the right was a wide arched entrance to her open balcony, behind them, thin, gauzy sheets separated the room from her private bedroom. She let her gaze fall to the sunken tub of warm water that waited for her. The water was cloudy with perfumes and herbal concoctions. She searched the pristine surface for the right answer. "Different." Did she only imagine the wistful edge in her voice?