Her Roman's Hand

by Catherine Chernow

  She looked back to see his hand rise mid-air. He dropped it, and lifted the one he held on her lower back.

  Lyla fell to the ground, her face awash with tears.

  “No more.” He reached for her, pulling her up to stand before him. He wiped the tears from her eyes with the pads of his thumbs. “No more, my sweet. I promise.”

  My sweet!

  She wasn’t sweet. She wasn’t his. She’d never be that, unless she told him the truth. About Appia, and about what she really needed.

  She wanted him to love her for what she was. A kinky bitch that adored those whips in his punishment room. She wanted real pain and chastisement, not a weak spanking that even he seemed loathed to administer.

  Her feelings tangled up inside. She didn’t know if she loved that kinky aspect of herself. How could she expect him to?

  He tried to draw her into his embrace, but Lyla stopped him. “Why did you do that?” She swiped tears from her eyes, but she couldn’t stem their flow.

  He frowned. “It was your punishment. Surely, you understand that.”

  “Punishment? You call that punishment?”

  Marcus turned her slightly so that she could view her pink bottom in the mirror. “I’d say it was.” His frown deepened. “Unless you’d like to feel the flat of my hand again.”

  She scooted away from him and shoved her dress down to the floor. Lyla couldn’t stand there and argue with him with her ass on display.

  He ran a hand through his hair, his face filled with frustration. “What do you want from me, Lyla?” He spread his arms wide. “I can’t guess anymore.”

  She raised her chin. “I want to be able to tell you the truth.”

  “That would be a refreshing change.”

  “Now who’s being sarcastic?”

  “I’ve learnt it from the Master.” He gave her a mock bow.

  Her chest heaved. “You’re not worth it.” She turned on her heel to leave.

  He pulled her back until she stood flush against his body. He placed his arms around her waist. Brushing back damp hair that stuck to her cheeks, he whispered, “Tell me.”

  She turned to face him. Tears shot from her eyes, landing on his red toga. They made dark stains in the fabric.

  He looked down on them then raised his eyes to her. “Lyla, just say it, damn it. I can’t bear this.”

  “I was the one who told Appia all that stuff about freedom and not being shackled to some man you chose for her.” She wished a giant hole would rise up from the floor and swallow her.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face then dropped that hand to his side. “Appia wouldn’t reveal the person’s name.”

  “It was I.”

  He nodded. “Fine. You told me and you received chastisement. You got what you wanted—and deserved.”

  She just looked at him, feeling as if a heavy weight lay on her chest. “Oh, Marcus, you foolish man.” She wanted to cry all over again. “Maybe it is what I deserved, but it was not what I desired.”

  “So I’m to blame for spanking you, even though it was you who filled Appia’s head with all those lies about my best friend?”

  “No, I’m responsible for that.”

  “Then what’s the problem, Lyla?”

  “You took the easy way out.” She shook her head. “And you did because you’re afraid. You give me a safe word to use, so I can decide what I like, but when I do use that word, you think I’m rejecting you.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” He scowled.

  “For once, I’m speaking the truth. About you. You’re afraid that if you do something I don’t like, I’ll leave you.”

  “That’s pretty hard to do, considering you’re stuck in antiquity.”

  “But I can go away.” She tapped her temple with her index finger. “I can leave you, here, in my mind.” She patted her heart. “And here.”

  He flexed his hand by his side. His look grew dark.

  “Did I hit a sore spot?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “I think I did. I also think that you can spank the shit out of me the way you did before, but it still won’t give me my heart’s desire…or yours.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears. “I may be trapped here in this ancient era—” She inhaled sharply, her throat clogging with frustration. “But I still want total domination from you.”

  “You have it, Lyla. I’m your master.”

  Anger rose within her. He still doesn’t get it!

  She jabbed him in the chest with her index finger. She did it so hard that he was forced to walk backwards, until he ended up at the writing table. It shook when he bumped it.

  “Let me tell you something Mister Roman Alpha Male.” She poked him again. “I may be a kinky, modern bitch, but I still want to be swept off my feet by a man who commands my body and soul.”

  “What is this ‘swept off your feet’?” He looked around. “I see no broom.”

  “Oh, Marcus,” she sighed. “It means that I want you to surprise me.”

  He angled his head. “In what way?”

  “I want to be bowled over—when you punish me, and in your complete and total domination.”

  * * * *

  Marcus stood there, afraid to move. He couldn’t believe his ears, or his good fortune. Perhaps, the ancient Roman myth of gods and goddesses was true. Maybe, Cupid and Aphrodite had joined forces, and deigned to shower him with happiness.

  He couldn’t contain his excitement, or his desire for Lyla.

  She had finally expressed something to him that would take their relationship to a different level, and while he would enjoy her total submission, he feared it too. It would bind her to him so that he wouldn’t be able to just use her as his lupa, she’d have to become more.

  His woman. One he must protect and cherish forever.

  She stood before him, her head bowed in supplication. “I’m sorry for what I did, for what happened to Appia,” she whispered. She didn’t look up, dropping to her knees before him. “I want, no I require, more punishment, Master.”

  Master. Her voice sounded humble.

  He didn’t have to wrench the word ‘Master’ from her, or command her to say it.

  “May I look at you?”

  “Yes, you may.”

  She raised her eyes to his. “Will you use the whip?” Her voice became small, yet it held seductive notes.

  The two aspects of Lyla’s personality sucker punched him in the gut.

  He bent and clasped the back of her head, gasping when her lips sought his cock.

  “Please,” she whispered. “If you do not punish me properly, how will I ever learn, Master?” She continued to suckle him, her hot, moist mouth making him shudder.

  He was tempted to toss her over his lap again for driving him mad with need. His eyes almost rolled back in his head when she kissed his balls. Such a sweet, tempting morsel was his Lyla.

  “Rise,” he commanded. Meting out her proper punishment filled him with lust. His gut burned with it.

  She rose, but she didn’t meet his eyes.

  Ah, the perfect, submissive mate.

  “You’re going to receive exactly what you deserve, my sweet.”

  “Yes, Master.” She bowed her head lower.

  “Your punishment will commence, but you’ll know neither the time, or day, or what implement I will use.”

  “I cannot choose?”

  “No. You have no say in this, Lyla. None at all.”

  “Oh.”

  “You will remain in your room until I am ready for you.”

  She nodded.

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Until it’s time for you to be well and duly chastised.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sometime later, Lyla sat on the bed in her room, her knees drawn up to her chest. It seemed like the only position she could stay in that would contain her anxiety…and her excitement.

  The idea of Marcus whipping her ass made her flush. It fuelled her anticipation. Her body throbbed with it.r />
  A loud knock sounded through the room. Lyla glanced towards the entrance to her room. In the next instant, Appia entered, turning to slide the door closed.

  Lyla arose and greeted her.

  “I understand you’re to be punished by his Excellency,” Appia stated.

  Lyla blew out a breath. “That’s correct.”

  “But why?” She placed a hand on Lyla’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “I’m going to begin by saying that I watched you receive your punishment.”

  “How could you have…” Appia nodded. “Ah, the peepholes.”

  “I just happened to be in Marcus’ room,” Lyla continued, her words coming out in a rush lest she lose her resolve. “I heard you speak, then I watched it all. While I didn’t understand what you and Marcus spoke about, later, when you and I discussed everything, I realised that what I’d witnessed is punishment that I should have received.”

  “Oh, Lyla, I told you that I deserved it. Stealing from the master was a foolish choice on my part.”

  “I want you to know that I told Marcus that I filled your head with notions about not marrying Cletus.”

  Appia frowned. “The master didn’t have to know. What did it matter who told me not to marry Cletus, I—”

  “It mattered to me, Appia. I-I was jealous of your transformation. So envious of what you are going to share with Marcus’ friend.” She sighed. “I also didn’t want to come to terms with how kind Marcus can be.”

  Appia smiled. “He is a firm but fair master. His friend Cletus is, too.” Her grin turned a bit wicked. “Cletus is very handsome. I wish you had met him.”

  “Maybe I will some day.” Lyla patted her hand.

  “Marcus Flavius Valerius will not break your spirit.” Appia nodded. “He loves you.”

  Lyla’s heart beat wildly.

  “He has found a perfect mate in you.” Appia’s smile widened.

  Lyla reached out to embrace her.

  Appia returned her hug. “Be brave when you receive your chastisement,” she whispered.

  “That’s easier said than done.”

  Appia winked. “I would bet all of my coins on you.”

  * * * *

  A short time later, Marcus left his bedchamber, dressed in regal splendour. He wanted to make an impression on Lyla that would last a lifetime.

  They were thrown here together in his ancient era for a purpose, and no one and nothing would keep him from her. He’d chase her across time if he had to.

  The ornator adjusted the toga on Marcus’ shoulder, pinning a large, ruby-red brooch to the material. Marcus planned to give the jewellery to Lyla… That, and so much more.

  Time was such a precarious, strange thing. Sometimes, it dragged, like when he anticipated holidays and birthdays as a boy. Other times, it flew by, especially when he was with Lyla.

  He wanted her in his bed, a willing supplicant. In this time, or any other.

  He left his room, anticipation burning through his gut.

  Decimus greeted him, walking towards him. “You are quite the royal sight today, Excellency.” He bowed. “Do you have a few minutes for me?”

  Marcus was eager to bring Lyla before him for her chastisement, but the worried look on Decimus’ face made him give in. “What’s troubling you?” He placed a hand on the elderly servant’s shoulder.

  “Rumors are rife today in Rome.”

  Marcus sighed. “As usual, Decimus.”

  “Yes, but these concern Corvus.”

  “What?”

  “I hear he’s seeking revenge for what you did to him.”

  Marcus fingered his jaw, remembering the blow he received from Corvus’ lackey when he and his men raided Corvus’ prison. He’d brought Corvus to his knees for what he did to Lyla.

  “I bid you to be careful, Excellency, and watch your back. Your feud with the slave dealer may escalate.”

  “Keep your eyes and ears open, Decimus. I want all news about Corvus and his plans.”

  The old servant bowed. “It shall be done.”

  * * * *

  Lyla took her time in the bath, allowing Eisha and Corinne to attend her. They scented her body with rose oil then dressed her in an exquisite, deep red silk gown. Adorning her upswept hair with tiny rosebuds, they placed them strategically on her head so that they stood out against her pale tresses and creamy white skin.

  Their actions made her feel special, like a queen, and like royalty, she must be valiant.

  Whatever Marcus planned for her, she’d take. She wanted to be his fearless girl and his submissive mate. He may be her Master, but she possessed the control. It would be her choice how she took her punishment.

  She wouldn’t let him down. Or herself.

  Four eunuchs escorted her, Eisha and Corinne from the baths to the room where Marcus kept his whip collection.

  Which one would he use? Sweat beaded on her upper lip while she thought about it.

  Eisha and Corinne bowed before her.

  More than anything, she wanted Marcus to understand that what she was about to do was for them both.

  She knocked on the door then heard Marcus’ deep voice.

  “Enter.”

  She hesitated for just a second, the deep timbre of his voice almost undoing all her resolve.

  Corinne slid the door open so that Lyla could walk into the room she so loved. The crops and whips greeted her, but her eyes settled on Marcus. He stood tall and proud, regal in his red silk toga and snow-white tunic.

  “Kneel,” Marcus commanded, pointing his index finger at the ground.

  She dropped to her knees before him.

  He walked over to her and raised her chin using his index finger. In a low voice, he said, “You look exquisite, my sweet.”

  She crossed her arms over her breasts, forming an X. She became invincible, despite her supplicant pose. It was the first time since she arrived in this ancient time that she truly felt alive and in control. Maybe it was the very first time she’d ever experienced that.

  “I intend to give to you everything you deserve.”

  Her little pleasure bud sprang to life. Moisture seeped down her thigh.

  “Strip,” he commanded.

  Outside, a commotion ensued. She heard loud voices. One by one, Marcus’ household filled the room. Lyla lifted her eyes to see all the men and women who had attended her since she arrived. Corinne and Eisha stood on the side. As well as Appia.

  He’s going to punish me before an audience!

  She’d give him, and them, the greatest spectacle they’d ever witnessed. But first, she had to tap her inner core of strength and eradicate her fear.

  “Strip,” he commanded, “or I will do it for you.”

  She took a deep breath and clapped her hands.

  Eisha and Corinne walked over and helped her to her feet. With slow, careful movements, they slipped the gown downward, revealing her breasts. They pushed it further until her waist, hips, and thighs came into view. A final tug sent it to the floor.

  She stood naked amidst a red silk pool swirling around her ankles.

  “Magnificent,” Marcus whispered in her ear. “You are stunning, my precious one.”

  Eisha and Corinne bowed before her then quietly took their place with the assembled group.

  The sound of wood scraping the tiles caught her attention.

  Slaves had brought in a long, narrow wooden table, with two smaller wood pieces attached to the sides. It resembled a modern-day padded redwood picnic table with attached seats.

  “Your disobedience will be addressed,” Marcus told her. He clapped his hands.

  Two slaves stepped forward. They helped her onto the top of the ‘table’, spreading her legs so that her knees rested on the two lower portions. The slaves then shackled her legs to the bench using chains. They clamped restraints over her wrists as well.

  She tugged on the chains, realising that they were padded on the inside, but she was bound just the same. She could not es
cape from whatever Marcus planned.

  He chuckled. “My sweet little fighter. All the way to the end.” He swatted her bottom, his fingers hitting the bit of her pussy that showed from behind. The sting from her ass started a pleasure tailspin.

  Knowing that others watched, heightened the experience. Lyla gasped when something brushed her clit.

  “It is a dildo, my sweet.” Marcus sat down on the bench near her. “Each time you receive punishment, your legs and arms will move. The table will shake, too. The dildo beneath you is attached to a mechanism that will kiss your luscious cunt each time you receive a blow to your backside.” He lowered his voice. “No one knows the dildo is there but me…and you. The others just think you’re strapped to a spanking bench.”

  Her face burned with shame to hear him talk to her that way.

  “But I will know if you come. And so will you. I have rigged the mechanism in a certain way to give you pleasure when you move your feet and hands. It will take great strength and will on your part to not come until I command you to do so.”

  To spite him, she wouldn’t move any appendage. Not if she could help it.

  “I had to remember the promise I made to surprise you, so I chose the instrument myself.”

  He clapped his hands. A slave brought forth a long paddle.

  Lyla’s mouth hung open. He had totally turned the tables on her! Her clit throbbed violently at the sight of that paddle.

  “It is smooth to the touch, but will render your bottom a nice red shade,” he mused, running the paddle’s length along her ass. He lifted the paddle, bringing it closer to her face so that she could view it.

  She had to do everything in her power not to lick her lips.

  “See the small holes along the sides? You will hear the air whisk through them when I bring the paddle down on your ass.”

  He’d heightened her senses of touch, sight and sound. In that moment, she realised how truly sensual her Master could be.

  Moisture dotted her thighs. She rubbed her nipples against the smooth padding of the spanking bench, causing her moist, heated thighs to quiver in response.

  “You will need a strong front, and an even stronger inner core to experience the ultimate pleasure. If you come now, I will know how weak you truly are.”