by Sara Fields
When he was done, he threw down the belt and cuddled her into his arms. She threw her arms around his neck, muttering apologies as her cries began to lessen. He held her, naked in his lap, until her sobs quieted. He met her glassy eyes, and told her she was forgiven and that he loved her.
Eiotan helped her stand and dressed her. Pulling her panties back on, he then pulled her chemise over her head. Her dress came last, and he laced her back into it. He straightened her mussed-up hair and turned her to face him.
“There’s my good girl again,” he whispered, smiling softly. She hugged him close and he held her. Then she remembered Cortés was there and quickly let go of Eiotan. She brushed the tears, from her cheeks as her face reddened relentlessly.
“Bravo, Lord Eiotan!” Cortés exclaimed. “Now that is a proper way to take a lady in hand! And look at that blushing face! Nearly as red as her delightful little bottom!”
Eiotan pulled Ayala toward his body.
“Every lady needs a spanking sometime, lets them know who’s boss,” he said, feeding into Cortés’ delight. “Now come, let’s head back to camp. I’m starving!”
“Agreed! Let us make you some delicious Spanish food!”
Eiotan helped Ayala mount her horse. As her freshly spanked bottom touched the saddle, she hissed as it awoke the sting. Cortés noticed and smiled.
“Let that be a lesson to you, little miss. Spanked bottoms hurt while riding a horse.”
She blushed fiercely, gritting her teeth, and sat back onto the saddle. Ayala took the reins, led her horse back toward the camp, and refused to wait for them. The men followed her, murmuring about how feisty a woman she was.
Chapter Thirteen
Upon their return to camp,; the horses were led away to be brushed, watered, and fed. Ayala and the two men were led into an extravagant tent, with a wooden dining table fully laden with plates of food. There were a multitude of fruits and vegetables, and in the center of the table was a platter with a cooked pig atop it, a bright red apple placed in its mouth. They sat down to eat dinner, and were served quickly. Wine poured freely as the men joked and laughed as though they were becoming fast friends.
Ayala smiled and laughed at the right times, her bottom still sore in the hard wooden chair. Much of the jokes were at her expense, about her behavior and her past punishment. She blushed constantly. Soon enough, she asked to be excuse in order to relieve herself, and was led out of the tent.
The servant led her a ways away to a lone tent at the edge of camp. She made her way inside and quickly did her business, feeling the wine begin to go to her head. She straightened her dress and left the tent, eager to get back to Lord Eiotan.
As she emerged from the tent, her small smile quickly disappeared. A group of soldiers were waiting for her, and the servant was nowhere to be seen. She whimpered and did not even have the time to scream before they were on her. A hand covered her mouth and another grabbed her arms, her legs. She struggled as much as she could, but was quickly overpowered. Fear clenched her stomach. What was going on? What were these men going to do to her?
A rag was forced into her mouth and tied around her neck. Her wrists were tied behind her back. The men then carried her off in the direction of an ornate tent, the largest in the camp.
Inside the tent, plush rugs were laid on the ground. A large four-poster bed was in the center. A dark red quilt was accented with plush embroidered red pillows. Ayala was deposited in front of the bed, on top of one of the rugs. The men left her alone and walked out of the tent. Her wide eyes took in the grandeur. Riches were on every table, from jewelry to golden goblets, to the beautiful fabrics draped throughout the tent. This could only be Cortés’ tent.
She should have never gone off on her own and should have stayed with Lord Eiotan. Ayala tried to free her hands, but they were held fast. She kept working her bonds, until she spotted a knife made of gold. Standing was difficult, but she managed. Walking over to the table, she was thankful to the gods that her feet weren’t tied as well. She picked up the golden knife by turning around and grabbing it with her hands behind her back.
She heard voices outside and rushed back the spot where the soldiers had dumped her, placing the knife underneath the bed. Shadows moved outside the tent, and she watched as the entrance was pushed aside. Cortés himself came sauntering inside.
The look on his face was terrifying. His grin looked dangerous, ravenous for her. His eyes took her in, tied and gagged on his floor. His eyes hardened, and a deadly calm came over him.
“Finally, I have you all to myself,” he said. He reminded her of a venomous snake, ready to strike at any moment.
He forced her to stand, grabbed at her dress and tore it, and then her chemise down the front, freeing her breasts to his gaze. Cold fear raced down her spine. He tore her dress further and pulled it off of her, destroying it. He spun her around and forced her face-down onto his bed. With one hand, he pushed the remnants of her chemise up her back and pulled her panties down her hips to her knees.
“Look at this, still red from your spankings. I can’t wait to beat you with my belt myself. It was sheer torture having to watch him spank you, when you are meant to be over my knees, not his.”
Ayala screamed into the gag as his hands rubbed at her bottom. She fought and kicked, trying to get away from him. Her gag finally came loose and she screamed. He stuffed it back into her mouth and began to spank her.
She fought with all she had, crying out at the force of his large hands. She spit her gag back out and shouted, looking back at him, anger seeping out of every pore.
“Where’s Lord Eiotan, you bastard?”
“Oh, you naughty girl. Listen to that language. I’m going have to punish you for that. We escorted Lord Eiotan back to the city. He was none too pleased to be without his wife,” he said maliciously. He undid his belt and looped it together, a deadly grin taking over his features. “Now come, I believe I have to punish you for that mouth of yours.”
He brought the belt down and Ayala squeezed her eyes shut, gasping as a line of fire slapped across her bottom. She fought and kicked, catching him in the shin and legs.
He spanked her hard with his belt, and each strike brought tears to her eyes. But this wasn’t ok. She hadn’t submitted to this. There was no love in his strikes, only the want to hurt her. She could hear his snickers of delight each time the belt connected with her bare flesh.
He continued bringing down the belt on her backside until her foot connected with what was between his legs.
He gasped out loud, his mouth opening in a silent scream. Ayala twisted out of his grip and rolled. She fell to the floor in front of his bed. She grasped for the knife, and began sawing at her bonds. Cortés began to recover, making his way toward her, seething in anger and residual pain. Ayala redoubled her efforts, feeling the ropes begin to fray. She cried out as the knife bit into her flesh, and the ties finally gave way.
Cortés lunged for her and she rolled away, making her way onto her feet as quickly as she could. She ran toward the tent door and pushed it out of her way. She raced away from the tent, her tattered clothes whipping away from her body. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she made a quick choice and ran in the direction of the horses.
She heard Cortés behind her, bellowing for his men to catch her. She ran hard, focusing on every step. She was still lucky enough to have her shoes on as her feet pounded across the ground.
Night was beginning to fall and the shadows hid her as she reached the edge of camp. She hid behind a tent, as soldiers ran by shouting and looking for her. She caught her breath, her eyes wide and scared. Her breath slowed, and her pounding heart slackened too.
Ayala looked around and heard angry grunting coming from the tent. She looked around, and saw no one.Taking the gold knife she still had in her hands, she sliced a small hole in the wall of the tent. She peeked inside, and gasped at what she saw.
Lord Eiotan was tied and gagged inside. His hands were tied behind his b
ack, and his ankles tied together. A blindfold blocked his vision. Ayala sliced an even bigger hole in the tent and made her way quickly inside.
She put the knife down by her side and pushed the blindfold off his head. He stiffened at her touch, but when he saw that it was her, his eyes softened. She untied the gag and pulled it from his mouth.
“Lord Eiotan,” she whispered, her hands holding his face.
“Ayala, what have they done to you?” His voice was angry and hoarse as he took in her state of undress.
“Nothing, I escaped,” she replied, picking up the knife and cutting the rest of his bonds. He stretched his limbs and pulled her into his arms.
He kissed her deeply and fisted his fingers into her hair. She moaned at his touch, melting into him. He pulled back and put a finger over her lips. He took off his shirt and handed it to her.
“Here, put this on,” he whispered. “We have to get out of here.”
She pulled his shirt over her head. It was soft linen and fell over her hips to mid-thigh. The two of them made their way out of the hole she had cut in the tent. They stuck close to the wall of the tent and quietly crept behind the soldier that was guarding the place where Lord Eiotan had been imprisoned. Neither Eiotan nor Ayala made a sound. Quickly, they sought another tent to hide behind so that the soldier didn’t turn around or glance their way.
They snuck behind tents, farther and farther toward the edge of camp until they came upon the horses. Esperanza was at the edge of the fenced field. Her reins were still on, and her saddle was off to the side, sitting on the fence. Ayala climbed over it and approached her horse. Esperanza nuzzled against her shoulder. Ayala ran her hand down her back and the horse stood still. She pulled the saddle blankets over Esperanza’s back and lifted the saddle, putting it on her as well.
She glanced around, but the field was silent. Shouting came from within the camp. Torches were beginning to be lit and men were running around. They were searching for her.
She pulled the leather straps tight on Esperanza and made sure the saddle was secure. She climbed atop her horse. Lord Eiotan finished saddling his horse and opened the fence gate. He climbed up into the saddle and the two of them rode off into the night, as quietly as possible.
Even the horses were silent, as though they could feel the tension in the two as they escaped. They rode far from the camp and made their way toward the city. They stuck to heavily wooded areas. Neither of them spoke, fearing to make any noise in case anyone was pursuing them. Ayala jumped multiple times when animals would run in front of her or out of the brush. She ignored her sore bottom as each bounce of the horses walk scorched fire into the welts Cortés had given her.
The horses finally led them into the maize fields of Lord Eiotan’s property. Ayala took the lead with her horse. She urged Esperanza into a trot, wanting to get home as soon as she could. When Lord Eiotan’s house finally came into view, she felt as though she could finally breathe again. Her heart finally began to relax, rather than the pounding in her ears that she’d felt all night.
A servant stood outside the slave quarters and ran to meet them when he recognized them. He looked confused at the horses, but greeted his master.
“Lord Eiotan, how can I help you, sir?”
Eiotan quickly dismounted and greeted the servant. Ayala climbed off of Esperanza and took her reins.
“Help us put our horses in the barn. They can stay in the pig and goat stalls. We need to feed them and give them water.”
The three of them led the horses into the barn and helped get them settled. They gave the horses some hay and buckets of water. Ayala showed the servant how to take the saddle and reins off the horses and hang them on nails in the barn. The servant put the saddles over the doors to the stalls.
He led a few goats out of two stalls and into another. Ayala then led Esperanza into one stall, and Lord Eiotan’s horse into the one next to it.
“Mistress Ayala, Lord Eiotan, thank you for your help. Can I help you with anything else?”
“You don’t have to call me that,” she stammered.
“No, thank you, Dario. You have been a tremendous help tonight. I want you to head to bed. Tomorrow, I would like you to brush the horses down. You can have someone help you,” Lord Eiotan responded, cutting Ayala’s protests off.
“I will help you tomorrow,” Ayala offered, running her hand across Esperanza’s neck. She placed her forehead against her horse, and Esperanza neighed in response. The horse nudged her and laid her head on her shoulder. Ayala took a deep breath and turned back toward Eiotan.
Dario bowed his head and left the two of them alone. Lord Eiotan took her hand and led her back to the house and into his bedroom, where she finally began to tremble. Eiotan pulled his shirt off her and helped her out of her torn panties and chemise.
She began to cry as the events of the night began to crash into her. Eiotan took her into his arms and held her as her sobs wracked through her. She held onto him, burying her face into his bare chest. When her cries finally quieted, he led her into his bed, and held her close as they both fell asleep, exhausted.
Chapter Fourteen
When the two of them finally woke the next day, the sun was already high in the sky. She rolled back into his chest, not wanting to leave Lord Eiotan’s warm embrace. His eyes opened and met hers. A soft smile came over his lips as he brushed her hair out of her eyes.
“How’s my girl?” he said, his voice warm.
“I’m alright,” she said. “I’m glad to be home and away from that monster.”
Lord Eiotan looked away, anger flashing across his features.
“I should have protected you better. He never should have had his hands on you.”
“It wasn’t your fault. He just wanted something that wasn’t his to have. He was desperate.”
“Tell me what happened. Tell me everything, from the time you left dinner. What did he do to you? Did he touch you?” he asked, fear and anger intermingling in his eyes.
Ayala touched his face softly and told him what happened: how she was carried away from the latrine and left in Cortés’ room, and how he had whipped her with his belt when she fought him. She told him how she fought and how she escaped, up to when she found him tied up in the tent. After she was finished, he held her close, thankful to have her in his arms.
“I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry that he hit you, and that he hurt you. I promise you, he will never touch you again,” he said, bringing her in for a kiss.
He kissed her softly, and she opened herself to him. His tongue slipped into her mouth and his fingers snaked in through her hair. He held her close to him and she moaned, needing this, needing him. She wanted it all.
Ayala began to kiss him back, and he kissed her more fiercely. He grabbed her wrists and held them above her head firmly. She struggled slightly, but her hands didn’t move. Escape was nearly impossible if she tried, but she didn’t really want to. She wanted him to claim her, to take her.
He moved on top of her, his dominance unmistakable.
“You’re mine. You’ll only ever be mine,” he said hoarsely in her ear, his voice thick with emotion.
“Yes, sir,” she cried out as he moved in, trailing kisses from behind her ear, down her neck, to the hard peaks of her breasts. He took one in his mouth, twirling his tongue around the pointed nipple. She moaned, arching into his mouth. He broke away from her and grabbed a piece of fabric. He wrapped it around her wrists and tied her to the headboard of his bed.
She tested her bonds, and grinned when they held fast. He kissed her lips and made his way down, kissing every inch of her. By the time he made his way in between her legs, she felt like she could crawl the walls. Her hips rolled and she moaned, wetness seeping down her thighs. As he kissed her sex, she tried desperately to increase the pressure to get him where she needed him most.
When he finally kissed her little bud, she cried out at the intensity. He lapped at her, increasing the pressure there. She began
to tremble, pleasure coursing through her veins. He latched onto her pearl, sucking and edging her onto the cliff.
She arched into his mouth as he lashed her with his tongue. She screamed as she felt herself fall off into the world of pleasure as wave after wave crashed through her. Feeling content, she knew she was his, she was safe, and she was loved. Enjoying the wonderful feelings he gave her, she let herself go.
Leaving her hands still bound, Eiotan positioned himself between her legs. She felt his shaft bump up against her. He rubbed up against her, and she felt another orgasm race through her as she rolled her hips, seeking out her release.
As her desire calmed, he entered her hard and fast. He grabbed her thighs and slammed into her. She rode his hard stroke, coming into wave after wave of pleasure.
He took her hard, groaning as her tightness overwhelmed him. He leaned into her and kissed her, as his own world broke apart while he was deep inside her.
She felt wonderful and well taken care of. She smiled up at him, gazing deep into his eyes. He kissed her again, still seated deep within her sex.
She whispered, “I love you, sir.”
“I love you too, Ayala. Forever and for always.”
He reached up and released her wrists from the fabric. Melting into his embrace, she kissed his shoulder. Ayala had needed that, needed him to own her, to take her. She was his, and only his. He held her close.
“I should let you go so you can care for your new addition. I should visit Fuego as well.”
“Is that the name of your horse, sir?” she asked.
“Yes; let’s get dressed then. And let’s visit them in the barn.”
Ayala gave Eiotan one last kiss before she climbed out of bed. She strutted naked to his door and looked back, catching him admiring her backside. He smirked and growled at her, jumping out of bed. He came up behind her and grabbed her bottom, squeezing it in his hand. She whimpered, but didn’t fight him.