He brought her up to the edge of the trees, and then she noticed that they were on a cliff. Down from where they stood was a village. On the other side of the village, on the hill opposite, was a half-finished estate. It was probably only three hours away.
“I've always liked the view,” he told her.
She didn't have to ask if the estate was his. She knew. She might not be observant, but she could see and draw conclusions!
“Impressed yet?” he asked as she looked down. The village was too far away to see anything except shops and houses—people were distant dots. Still, he was right; it was beautiful from up here. Everything was beautiful from up here. She didn't answer him until he added, “The hunting's amazing.”
She turned her head. “You'll take me, then?”
He gave a nod. “With me, absolutely,” he hedged, pulling her arm and following the stream once again. They came across a pool and he led her to a rock, gesturing for her to sit.
“What?” she said as he bent down in front of her.
“Surprise. I'm taking off your boots,” he told her, taking them off with an easy tug. Her boots didn't go up to her knees like his did. They only went to half-ankle, where her leggings were tucked inside, hugging at her skin.
“Why?” she asked, hoping that he wasn't going to spoil everything by doing something perverse with her feet. God only knew what was broiling up in that man's mind!
He gave her a raise of his eyebrows. “Because I want to see the look on your face when you step in. Just a step, mind you—it gets deep fast.
Her brow wrinkled and he pulled her back to her feet and walked her to the edge. Without much ado, Wenda stepped in.
She frowned at first, confused. “It's warm…” she said, then wiggled her toes. Her face transformed, excited like a small child with her first piece of candy in hand. “It's… warm!” She had heard of hot springs outside her cousin's lands, but she'd never been to one. It wasn't even an eighth of a mile to it from the cottage. She could bathe in it. It was deep enough.
She went to take one more step forward, but Talus kept her steady by slinging an arm around her, and then he lifted her out and brought her back onto the grass. “Gets deep fast,” he reminded her with a chiding voice.
She was still giddy with joy, not minding the warm arm around her waist… but then Talus' lips met the back of her neck, and he spoke to her as he kissed. “I always looked forward to bringing my wife here, but then I didn't get along with Helga well enough to bring her to this place, and she wouldn’t have liked it anyway.” He gave her a squeeze.
Why did that please her so much? Why was she so happy with the announcement that she, his second wife, had already seen more of her husband than his first wife had? And why did his words please her so much, if she had only married him to avoid marrying an old man? “You… You love me?” she asked, awed.
“Of course I love you,” he said, pulling apart from her and then giving her a nearly judgmental glance. “I've loved you all your life. I've just been looking at it… differently lately. And you will, too, in time.”
She shook her head. “How can you go from looking at me like a child to looking at me like a woman you want to… to…” She couldn't even say it.
“To kiss?” he finished, and kissed her neck again. “Something my father taught me—to want what you already have. I have you, so I let myself want you. Now you're all I want.” He suddenly laughed. She felt him put one of his hands at her hip. He was still behind her as he chuckled. “I used to complain that your breeches showed off too much of your form now that you'd become a woman. Nicklaus said I was crazy and just being over-protective. I've been trying not to look right at you for a while now because of it—it was like looking at the sun. I wouldn't glance at you more than necessary. I didn't want to see how ravishing you were; I ignored it with everything in me. When I married you, it was like water breaking the dam.”
“I…” She didn't know what to say. She felt the heat radiating off of him. “I just need time.”
“My dear little wife,” he sighed, looking like he was carrying an invisible weight on his shoulders. He was weary. “You know when we're bow hunting, and you're setting the shot?” She nodded, trying her best to follow him, although she was curious as to where his analogy was going. “You know how your arm gets tired as you hold the shot? The longer you hold it, the worst your aim gets? That's how I feel. I'm getting tired, wife. The longer I wait, the worse I'll feel, and the worse I feel, the worse it's going to be for you.”
She chewed her lip, frowning. She understood his position, but the more he talked, the less she wanted to look at him, feeling tainted, dirtied, and pained… “I need time,” she told him again. Maybe with a little time, he would look somewhere else to slake his lusts.
She would be a very, very good wife to him other than that, she would! But not the marriage bed, not the marriage bed… That would ruin their relationship forever!
He came around to her front and looked into her eyes. He nodded, sad. “I'll wait,” he said with a heavy sigh. He turned back towards the cottage.
She pursed her lips together. “There's a town nearby,” she reminded, desperate to lighten his poor mood. She knew it was her fault, now. His lack of rutting was causing a depression in him. “Please, please—find company there!”
She wanted to take it back instantly, because at the end of her words he stopped walking. She slumped her shoulders and pinned herself to the spot, her bare toes clutching nervously at the ground, knowing that she had just baited the bear.
* * *
She looked like a child who had just broken their parent's favorite trinket. Her expression looked pained; she even winced when he stared at her. She buried her naked toes into the earth nervously. When he looked at her in heated silence, she eventually raised her eyes to look at him, but as soon as she caught his eyes she diverted them back to the ground.
He turned wordlessly and she tried to follow.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” she began to tell him pleadingly. She knew that she'd disobeyed him, annoyed him, and insulted him, all with one sentence, or else she wouldn't have started to whimper already. She tried to follow behind him, but he pointed to the ground. “Stay right here,” he demanded. “And you'd better be divested of your clothes when I come back.”
She paled just as he knew she would. “B-B-but Talus! Here? Un-undress? Naked?” she began to whine.
“Husband! I'm your husband,” he snapped at her, and she recoiled. “Now undress.”
Not wanting to argue with him further, she stood by the spring and reached for the front buttons on her tunic. He walked on, feeling his chest tighten with an uncomfortable weariness rather than complete annoyance. He was going to have to force his wife into bed the first couple of times; that was apparent, be it unfortunate. What was also frustrating was that they had been married for four days now and she still wouldn't take charge of her duties, despite the fact that he was more than happy to take his own husbandly duties, and even though it was him who'd been forced into this!
He was simply running out of ideas to get Wenda to resign to this. She seemed determined to be difficult about it. He wanted to make their consummation wonderful, sweet, and something she'd look back on fondly.
There was nothing more he could do. He had to discipline her, and then, since she'd be crying anyway, he'd take her and get this first time over with. Maybe one day, she would allow herself to enjoy it… to enjoy him.
He'd gone into the cabin, grabbed a hairbrush from his chest, and walked back to the hot spring, and yet somehow she was still undressing—she'd only just taken off her tunic and coat. He had never in his life seen anyone move so slowly; he had not even known it was possible. He didn't quite know if he should be angry or aroused.
It was impossible not to be aroused when she lifted up her undershirt and her breasts bounced out of their confines. They were everything that he'd imagined them to be, and more. They were larger than he had thought
—her outfits all confined them, restricting their bouncy movements and smooshing down their fullness. Now they were perfectly round, tipped with delicious pink little points that made his mouth water. The points stood out alone—the womanly circles surrounding them were skin-colored, making it seem like her nipples were jewelry that sat atop her breasts.
Knowing she was being watched, she turned her body, showing the swell of her hips instead as she slowly slid her leather riding breeches down.
She left her clothes puddled on the ground. Later in the summer he figured she'd pick up after herself better once she discovered that she had to clean her own laundry. When she was naked she merely cowered, shivering although there was a steaming heat coming off from the spring and warming the air.
“I was just trying to figure out a way to keep you happy,” she pouted bravely, her hands in front of her chest.
He sat on the stone she'd been on when he had tugged her boots off. “Come here,” he said, hairbrush in hand.
She stared at it for a while until he had to ask again, then she pressed her lips together with frustration, her eyes narrowing. She put down her hands from her breasts and stomped over to him. Her whole body was flushing at her nakedness—she was humiliated and obviously hated this, but she must have realized that if she was going to try to run for it, the time for that had passed.
She eyed the hairbrush warily. “What's that for?” she asked him, her tone surprising him. He realized that she thought he was going to take her, and that this was a sexual game he wanted to play.
He put out his hand and slapped the wooden-backed hairbrush into it. While her body was close to his, he grabbed her arm. “I'm going to heat your bare backside with it,” he informed her.
Her jaw dropped, and she tried to pull back as he dragged her over his knees. “I didn't do anything!” she assured with a cry. “Why?”
“Because when I say something, I mean it. Never speak of me sleeping with another woman ever again. I told you this just last night, woman. How could you say such a thing to me?”
Zounds, her backside was the most gorgeous thing in all creation! One day—soon—he would take her little bottom hole as surely as he would take her other openings. Just the thought of sliding his length into that forbidden entrance now just inches from his fingertips… its call was undeniable.
As if she knew exactly what he'd begun to plan, she struggled like a cat held over a tub of water. Did she think her silly attempts at fighting him were actually helping? He clamped down her wrists to the small of her back like he had when he'd spanked her with his hand after their wedding.
She was quite good with tracking during a hunt, and her aim was excellent. She wasn’t strong, though, not at all. She was a girl, and even when she went off with the men she was spoiled by them—he, Nicklaus, and the other men had always carried her kills for her. That must be why he didn't even break a sweat now while holding her in place over his lap.
“I'll bite!” she told him.
No, she wouldn't bite him. “Do it,” he invited, and brought the wooden side of the hairbrush down upon her bubbly little bottom. He could actually see a couple of welts left over from a few days before—one across her cheeks left from the birch, and two across her thighs. The round, bright red imprint left behind by his hairbrush joined the marks, and he quickly created another one right next to it.
Her fingers clutched his leg and breeches and she let out a cry of “Arrgh!” from between clenched teeth. She didn't sound like she had quite realized how well the small hairbrush would roast her bottom.
“Please, please…” There was still anger in her tone, but her voice was pleading. “Please stop!” She could only speak in the extremely short interval between the smack of the hairbrush on her bottom and her own screaming from it. “I won't… I won't say it again!”
Still detecting an edge of anger on her lips, he continued, holding her tightly as he chastised his wife firmly and soundly. This felt right, somehow. Beyond the way it made him pulse from desire, the spanking was making him feel even more masculine. Not just masculine, but dominant, like the alpha of a pack of wolves.
Her cries escalated, but he kept on. Maybe this would help rid her of the insane notion that he would have any other woman but her. He had met some crazy wives in his day, but he had never heard of such a plot.
She hung limp. “I'm so sorry,” she finally said, blubbering. “I really am…”
He looked over his work as she hiccupped out cries and sobs. She was now using his breeches as a handkerchief for her watering eyes. Her bottom was a blazing red, and he liked the look of it far better than after he had used the birch. It wasn't so welted or angry; it was all the same divine color.
Between her legs, she was wet again. So she did want him. Why would she say she didn't, if she did? He looked at her cunny, glistening in the last light of the sun, and he moved his hand tenderly over the scalded flesh of her bottom.
He shushed her with a coo, like he might do to a crying child. He didn't lift her off his lap right away; he merely asked what was on his mind. “Why don't you want me, wife? How could you want another to lie with me in your stead? Why?”
“The pain!” she cried, and he remembered her comment from before about her conversation with Lucretia and Chastity. He had rolled his eyes about it then, but he was beginning to frown from the way she screeched the word. “It would ruin everything,” she added pitifully, sobbing.
“Ruin everything?” he echoed, still confused.
“You'll… I can't talk about it,” she said, her voice full of shame.
He frowned and brought her to her feet. She was so beautiful right now, her body so lush, but all he wanted to do was comfort her. “Where—who told you it would be horrible?”
As soon as the question left his lips, he knew. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Nicklaus' sisters and wife were behind this. They'd been so horrible to her all her life… Of course they would play this trick on her.
“Everyone!” she cried. “All my kin! Could you possibly look at me and say it's not awful for the woman?”
He looked right at her. “Not if it's done properly,” he assured, a smile coming to his lips. “Did Nicklaus' wife tell you this?”
She nodded. “Everyone did! Always! They said that it was the most painful experience of their life; they thought they'd die from it! And then you'll… sully me.” She swallowed, tears shedding down her cheeks. “I don't want you to do that, Talus. I don't want to hate you or be disgusted by you… Don't ruin what we have… I'm sorry for saying it, but I love you and I don't want that to change!”
She was so heartbreakingly upset that he embraced her tightly. “That's it. I'm going to get Nicklaus to bring his women to heel, so help me!” She was trembling, for god sakes! “It's not bad at all, Wenda. Your cousins were playing a horrible, twisted trick on you… How long have they been telling you such lies?”
Wenda sniffled and pulled slightly back from him. “For… forever,” she replied, wiping at her nose. She blinked. “So… no pain?”
“I will promise you, Wenda, that it will feel so good that you'll be following me around the place looking for more,” he said, and then broke into a chuckle halfway through the sentence. He shook his head. “Zounds! Abigail was having it before she was married because she couldn't wait to have it. The church should employ these women to spread their tales and make more nuns,” he added with a grunt.
She suddenly began to look sheepish. She put her hands up to her eyes. “I feel so… ridiculous,” she cried. “Why would they make me go on and believe something like that, then?”
“Because they don't get spanked properly, that's why,” he replied, then kissed her gently.
She smirked slightly and brushed the tears from her cheek. “I'm… I'm sorry I made such a fuss,” she said lightly, but he still detected a trace of leeriness.
“Me too,” he told her, and then nuzzled her hair.
Perhaps it was time to give romanc
e one more try.
He picked up her naked body. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, glancing around as if there was a village that could see her naked, not just a bunch of trees.
“To play a part in a fantasy of mine,” he replied simply.
“What sort of—”
SPLASH.
She came up to the surface of the pool after she'd submerged, giving a shout. He'd taught her to swim when she was about eight, which had Nicklaus frowning at the time, saying that noble ladies just never swam, but right now Talus was thinking he had been a genius. She was a sensual vision. He quickly undressed himself.
“You're… not…” she said, doubting. As soon as he reached to tug off his breeches, she turned around, so as not to look at him. He appeared behind her a moment later with a splash. “This is a fantasy, is it?” she said, breaking into a giggle.
“Oh, yes,” he said. She stilled for a moment as he swam up behind her and then rested his lips on her neck. “This is my heaven.”
* * *
Swimming was definitely different when naked, because she was sure that wasn't just his stomach pressing against her ass. He put an arm around her, nuzzling her ear. With all the hunting trips, and all the times he had visited the castle, she hadn't ever snuck a peek at his member. Now there it was, hard as a rock, pressing against her.
Why did she like it so much? This touch? There was an embarrassing heat rising from her core, and she felt him reach around and pet her stomach, trailing further and further down to that heat, seeming to know he was going to find it there. When he touched her, she inhaled a quick breath, and his manhood jumped wildly behind her. “You're so… silky and wet,” he rasped in her ear with his thick, growling voice.
Despite the warm water around them, his breath in her ear caused her nipples to pucker.
“I want to make you feel so good, woman, I want to make your toes curl.”
Lords and Ladies: Two Medieval Spanking Novellas Page 11