Lucy understood, now, why the sea wouldn’t allow a water nymph to preside over his dispute. He was so big and powerful, and Keelie was one tiny part of this huge puzzle. And Lucy, Hugh and Steen were even smaller, and completely powerless. None of it made any sense. But why would the sea concern himself with Lucy? She had to know.
“Um... mister... um... Keogh... sir?” Lucy began.
“What do you want, human?” he boomed. His voice didn’t seem to have any other volume, or maybe she’d just irritated him too much today.
“Why d’ye want me?”
“Sometimes even the sea gets lonely.”
Did she detect a note of regret, there?
Before she pressed the point, however, Elinor re-appeared in a flurry of leaves and she brought someone else with her. A craggy, black-haired man who could only be Arran.
“A contest between Keogh and two human men? This will be over quickly,” Arran remarked. Lucy glared at him.
“What will the contest be, Arran?” Keogh asked.
“Something you’re all evenly matched at.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Swordfighting.”
“Tae the death?” Steen asked.
“Death will not be the point, although you may die if you so wish,” Arran said, and despite her fear, Lucy found herself giggling at the fact the spirit had misunderstood Steen’s question.
“The first one to break his opponent’s blade will win.” Arran waved a hand and a selection of huge swords appeared. Lucy stared at them; she’d only seen such weapons in woodcuts of medieval folk tales. “Keogh, as the challenger, you must take a more corporeal form, and you may select your blade first.”
Keogh swirled and growled, swelling to thirty feet high before he seemed to condense, and solidify, into the shape of a man, if an eight-feet-tall creature of pure muscle and barely-contained rage could be called a man. He selected his sword; a huge blade with a black handle and a blue-jewelled pommel.
“Defenders, choose your weapons,” Arran said.
Hugh and Steen clapped one another on the shoulders.
“Best o’ luck, friend,” Hugh said.
“Aye, best o’ luck,” Steen replied. Lucy wanted to cry. They both selected smaller swords. Steen chose a simple one with a brown handle and Hugh picked a weapon with a red jewel in the hilt.
Keelie and Lucy sat with Elinor and Arran to one side as the three swordsmen squared off against one another. Lucy watched Hugh mumble something to Steen, who nodded, and they waited.
“You may commence,” Arran declared.
Keogh attacked Steen first, perhaps thinking he was the weaker of the two, since he wasn’t a fisherman and didn’t spend his days at sea. Whatever the reason, their swords clashed with golden sparks and Steen stood his ground, while Hugh took the opportunity to bring his sword down on Keogh’s, somehow sensing a weak spot.
Keogh’s sword bent under the force, but it did not break. Lucy gripped Keelie’s cold hand tightly.
“I dinnae want tae watch,” Lucy squeaked.
“You could always close your eyes,” Keelie replied. Lucy sighed. The spirit world didn’t seem so good with figures of speech, for all they often talked in riddles.
The three men came apart, and seemed to take the time to rearrange themselves, stepping around one another in a circle. This time, Hugh struck first, engaging against Keogh so their blades were pressed against one another. It didn’t look like a lot was happening, but Lucy noticed the concentration on Hugh’s face, and the way his feet were sinking into the sand, then she saw Keogh had the same problem. They had reached an impasse. Steen suddenly launched his sword into the fray and thrust it hard into Keogh’s, where Hugh had hit it before, and he managed to cause a chip of steel to fly off the blade, landing on a rock with the same noise as a coin dropping on a stone. The sea fought back with his empty hand, wrapping it around Steen’s throat and lifting him, bodily, flinging him across the sand. Lucy screamed.
While that was happening, however, Keogh had lost concentration, and Hugh pressed the advantage, hacking several times at Keogh’s sword while Steen got to his feet and brushed himself off, resuming the fight.
“Funny thing aboot highlanders,” Steen shouted as he brought his sword down on Keogh’s hand, hard. “We’re difficult tae kill an’ we’re innately good at fightin’. The English invented entire military strategies because they couldnae beat us fair an’ square.”
With a roar, Keogh stepped back and clutched his sword arm. Steen had given up on trying to break the blade and had simply cut the sea’s hand off.
“Quick, afore he gets it back!” Hugh cried, and the two men hacked at Keogh’s sword until the blade finally rent asunder with a screech of metal.
Keogh roared again, towering over them in his sea form, but Arran stepped in.
“They won the challenge fairly,” Arran said calmly. “You know the odds were stacked in your favour, Keogh.”
“Are you saying I am inferior to these two humans?” Keogh demanded.
“I am saying you lost. Return to the waves, lord,” Arran replied gently.
Keogh roared in Arran’s face, but Arran simply stood and waited for the sea to finish. With a final glare at Lucy, Keogh disappeared into the sea.
Lucy half-expected him to batter the shoreline with a huge storm, now, but instead, the water remained calm and sedate.
“He’s brooding,” Keelie said with a lusty sigh.
Lucy stared at her in wonder. “You... he... really?” Lucy shook her head.
“Ah, but you heard him, Lucy. He would never have me.”
“Come along, nymph, we cannot linger, here,” Elinor said, then she and Keelie were gone in a flurry of leaves. When Lucy looked around, she realized Arran had disappeared, too.
Only she, Hugh and Steen were left on the beach.
“Well, now, lass, I reckon ye’re in a spot o’ trouble for a thing or two,” Steen remarked. Lucy sighed.
Chapter 13
“I am sorry, ye ken. An’... I ken neither of ye have the right to take me in hand until after the Circle Dance, but... I feel so guilty about everythin’. Please will ye both punish me for what I did?” she asked. They were all in Hugh’s cottage to get some privacy from their parents.
Steen thought about this for a moment, and beside him, he saw Hugh nod with a serious expression on his face.
“Aye. But only if ye agree it goes the way we decide,” Hugh replied.
Steen added, “If you have this punishment, ye’ll have nae control over how we punish ye, or how long we punish ye for. Just ken ye’ll be forgiven afterwards, and loved, and there will be no ill will borne between us.”
“I agree. Please. It will make me feel better tae square things up between us.”
“Very well. Remove all your clothing, and stand in the corner while we plan your punishment.”
Lucy obediently began unfastening her dress.
“I want tae take my belt tae her bottom after she gave herself away tae the bloody sea,” Hugh murmured.
Lucy finished with her dress and went to stand in the corner. From where he sat, on Hugh’s bed, Steen admired Lucy’s deliciously plump rear.
“I intend tae give her quite the belting, too, for that, and for having the audacity to use me as the stakes in a bet.”
“So we’re agreed,” Hugh said. Steen nodded. “Ye can start, Steen.”
Steen regarded his beautiful intended wife.
“Ye took your life in your hands with’oot considering anyone else who cared aboot ye.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I should hope so. And how do ye think I felt when ye bet me like some sort of object?” he asked.
Lucy cringed slightly. Good. The lass could do with a healthy dose of remorse after what she had done.
“Angry?” she guessed.
“Nae, not angry. I’m disappointed you think our relationship means so little ye frittered me away like I was a horse or somethin’. Ye did it at the shore, as well. Ye
just promised yourself tae the sea without even considering how I or Hugh might feel if ye did such a thing.”
“Aye, and I’m displeased aboot it, too,” Hugh added. “If we dance together tomorrow night, ye have tae understand we’re a trio, and ye cannae simply make decisions like that, which affect all of us, withoot all of us havin’ a say aboot it.”
“I’m usin’ my belt because, aside from betting me tae Millie, ye also nearly got taken by the sea. We almost lost ye.”
“Aye, and I intend tae punish ye for tryin’ tae give yourself tae the sea, too,” Hugh said. “Ye mean so much tae both of us, ye are not allowed tae make life-or-death decisions with’oot talking tae us first.”
“Get over my knee, lassie, it’s time for a warm-up spanking,” Steen said, shifting his position slightly on the bed so she had the space to do it. Lucy turned around. Limping slightly, she walked to him with her eyes downcast. She climbed over his knee without complaint.
“Can I just remind ye how sorry I am?” she said, as her chestnut hair tumbled down to the floor.
“Aye. And can I just remind ye how worried we both were when the sea tried tae take ye?” Steen countered.
“Indeed,” Hugh added.
Steen circled her generous rear with the palm of his hand. Her skin was so soft, he wanted to spend all day kneading it. But this wasn’t the time to get aroused. He wrapped one arm around her waist, protectively, raising his other hand from her cheeks. He brought it down swiftly, in a flurry of swats to her sit-spot, holding her tighter with his other arm as he felt her shake and wriggle.
She was quickly gasping as he landed spank after spank onto the skin above the cleft of her bottom, and he moved wider, covering the crest of each cheek, still bringing his hand down at the same speed.
Her skin began turning a pink color, as she gasped and shook her head, setting her beautiful chestnut hair in motion. He couldn’t see her face, but he would guess it was as pink as her bottom was, right now.
Moving his hand lower, he made sure her thighs had also been covered with swats until they were turning pink, too, and she was kicking her good leg while she kept the other one raised off the floor.
Eventually, he stopped. He listened to her breathless gasps as she remained where she was, and when her breathing had slowed once more, he spoke.
“Go and stand in the corner, and think aboot what ye did. We’ll get back tae this in a minute.”
He and Hugh helped her upright, and she limped to the corner by herself.
While Lucy was in the corner, she had plenty of time to think. Not that she particularly needed an epiphany to tell her what she had done was bad. She already knew.
She had made some fairly awful choices of late. First with letting Millie get at her enough to agree to give up Steen, instead of thinking about what he might want, and then, with the sea, where she had only been thinking about whether she could help Keelie or not.
It hadn’t even occurred to her to consider what the sea might have wanted to do with her, had Steen and Hugh not rescued her, but now she did, and it was worrying. He might have wanted to do anything at all, and if she’d been his, she would have had no choice.
How had she been so foolish?
She sighed deeply, wondering why the two men even wanted her, still. She realised that was her entire problem: She didn’t really feel Steen and Hugh ought to want her. She didn’t feel good enough for them. Certainly not to be their bride. If they danced the Circle Dance with her, tomorrow, they would be stuck with her forever, and doomed to live with all her mistakes and failings, as though they were their own problems.
Maybe this just showed she wasn’t good enough to be the wife of one man, never mind two. And that was aside from the fact she had already had premarital sex with them both. Who did such a shameful thing? She was truly a terrible choice for a wife. So why did two different men want her? And poor Millie would get nobody.
It didn’t seem fair.
Perhaps that was why she had done those things. Because she had a fundamental sense of what should happen, and was quite certain, on any list of marriageable women, Lucy ought to be at the very bottom. Perhaps she shouldn’t be on the list at all. Her ankle throbbed, reminding her that it, too, was the consequence of another terrible decision she had made.
Or was it?
She put everything together in her mind. Keelie had no idea where Hugh’s cat was. The nymph had sent Lucy to the sea, knowing she would get her foot trapped between rocks, and she had told Hugh where to find her. The whole thing had been orchestrated by the spirit world!
How much free will did any of them truly have? Only as much as they were permitted. It was lucky their village’s spirits were generally a lot less controlling than Keogh. As far as she knew, all the land spirits around these parts were female.
She was quite certain humans still retained some power, in all of this; after all, if they were under the complete control of the spirits, Keogh wouldn’t have needed a sword fight against Steen and Hugh to destroy them, and the men surely wouldn’t have been able to win.
It was all very puzzling.
“All right, come back to me, lassie,” Steen said at that moment. She turned, and soon stood before him.
“Kneel on all fours, on the bed,” Hugh said.
Lucy’s still-stinging bottom twinged in anticipation of further punishment. But she had asked for this because she knew she needed it. Her heart and conscience wouldn’t settle peacefully until she had faced this, and if the men went easy on her, she wouldn’t respect them. She carefully climbed onto the bed and shuffled around on her hands and knees until she was in a sensible position. She looked at the wall in front of her. The head and footboards were to her left and right, respectively. It probably gave the men enough room to swing a belt.
As she waited, she wondered who would go first. Steen had already given her the warm-up spanking, so would Hugh take over, now, or would Steen finish his punishment before letting Hugh have his turn?
“We’re going tae alternate, one stroke each of the belt, until ye’ve had ten,” Steen said.
Ten... it didn’t sound like many, on one hand, but on the other hand, it seemed like an impossible number. How bad was this going to be? She’d felt her papas’ belts on her rear before, twice, for incidents she’d gotten into trouble over in the past.
“Hugh will start,” Steen said, from further away. He clearly had the sense not to stand too close to a doomed bottom.
“Aye.” Hugh placed his hand on Lucy’s rear, and there was a moment when she thought this might not be too bad, after all, but the belt landed across both cheeks in a thick, solid stripe and she squealed.
Instant, hot pain burned through her behind, and she gasped at the intensity of it.
Steen went next, and his belt landed low, catching the especially sensitive place where her bottom became her thighs. She whimpered as it stung and she knew eight more of these was going to be the end of her.
“Please, Hugh, Steen, I cannae take this.” Her voice cracked as she spoke.
“Aye, ye can, lassie. This is nothing.” Steen’s voice seemed so mean. When Hugh brought the belt down for the third stroke, she began to cry.
As the men alternated strokes of the belt, Lucy decided she never wanted to get into this much trouble again. Certainly not any time this century, anyway. Perhaps her bottom would have stopped burning in another twenty-six years.
The pain got inside her and lingered, and it seemed to turn into something else... there was still pain, definitely, but there was also a deep and satisfying arousal building within her. She had lost count of the strokes, but when the next one fell, she moaned in spite of her tears, and the men paused.
“I think this is no longer having the desired effect on our lassie,” Steen remarked.
“Aye. We might need more drastic measures. I think I have something in the pantry that will fix her.”
Hugh’s footsteps retreated and Lucy wondered what they could poss
ibly have thought to use. As she waited for him to come back, her mind ran through all sorts of things, but she drew no conclusions. When he returned, she saw he had something in his hand which looked a little like a carrot. His other hand held a small hourglass egg-timer.
“Oho! That’ll do the trick,” Steen remarked. “D’ye think she can handle it?”
His question made Lucy’s blood run cold.
“Please, what is it?” she asked.
“Fresh ginger,” Hugh replied. “Just the right size for sliding inside your bottom.”
In an instant, she leapt up from the bed and tried to run out of the room. Steen caught her in his arms and held onto her. She tried to struggle free, but he simply rocked and shushed her.
“Please! I’ll be good! I’ll never do anything like this again! I swear! Just... keep that away from me!” she squeaked. She’d heard of the local farmers using ginger to get stubborn cows to move when the land was flooding. If it made cows run, she didn’t want to think what it might do to her.
Chapter 14
“Lass, you’re over-reacting,” Hugh said calmly. “Ye ken ye need us to show ye we can handle ye. Ye already said that. It’s going to go inside you for five minutes. Look. I’ll time it.”
She scrunched her eyes up. “Fine.”
“Here, get over Hugh’s knee and I’ll hold your hands the entire time,” Steen said.
Lucy looked up at him and nodded.
Everyone got into position and Lucy held her breath as Hugh dipped his finger into her embarrassingly wet folds and pressed it into her bottom. His finger filled her with sensual warmth as he opened her up and lubricated her. Pumping it in and out of her several times, he made her writhe. She couldn’t wait for him to claim her, here. When would she be ready? He removed his finger and replaced it with the ginger. When he had held it up, it hadn’t seemed so big, but now it was being thrust into her rear tunnel, it felt enormous.
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