Her Barbarian Master

by Maggie Carpenter

  Heart pumping, she shifted her body and rested herself over his lap. His wide muscled thighs felt hard underneath her, and as he began moving his palm over her bottom, she took a deep breath and prepared herself. She was all too aware his hand carried a keen sting.

  "You knew you weren't to leave here, I told you it wasn't safe, but you chose to ignore both my order and my warning."

  "I did, Master, and I'm sorry."

  "What happens when you disobey your Master?"

  "I, uh, I'm punished."

  "It is my job to keep you safe, and if you don't heed my warnings it makes that job very difficult. Do you understand that?"

  "Yes, Master."

  "You will receive ten hard smacks on each cheek. One side for putting yourself in danger, the other for disobeying me. Those are two different crimes."

  "Yes, Master, I see that, and I'm sorry for both."

  "Silently count them and raise your hand when I've delivered ten."

  "Yes, Master."

  He landed the first hot slap on her right cheek, paused, followed it with another, paused again, then another, but as the smacks continued she found it hard to keep count. The stinging wallops may have been burning her backside, but she could feel the warm flood of moisture between her legs.

  "How many is that?"

  His question had been unexpected, and she struggled to remember how many slaps had fallen.

  "I'm not sure, I think, eight, Master."

  "You think?"

  "It's been hard to concentrate."

  "Because of this?" he queried, slipping his finger into her wet pussy. "Because the punishment is making you want my cock?"

  "It's true," she panted, "yes, it is."

  "And you lost count?"

  "I think it's eight, Master."

  "If you lose count on the other side I will start over. Your hot stinging bottom is only part of the lesson. Learning to obey me is the other part. Two more on this side, plus one extra for losing count."

  He landed the slaps with the same slow deliberate rhythm, but more forcefully, and she squirmed and yelped after each of them.

  "Will you ignore my warnings again?"

  "No, Master, never," she replied breathlessly. "I have learned, I promise."

  As if underscoring the point, he pinched her stinging skin before moving his hand to rest on her opposite cheek.

  "Are you ready to count?"

  "Yes, Master."

  As he started to spank, she squeezed her eyes shut, and determined to keep track she decided to use her fingers. Though his slaps were fueling her carnal hunger, they hurt, and she couldn't stop squealing and wriggling on his lap. The spanking felt much longer than the one on her opposite cheek, and when he landed the tenth swat, she shot her hand in the air, anxious for him to stop. He didn't say anything, but to her joy he began to caress her scorched skin. Gratefully surrendering to the loving attention, she felt her body relax, but when he slipped his finger between her wet nether lips and began to massage her clit, she squeezed her legs together, urgently asking for more.

  Killian saw Serenity's passionate soul as a precious gift. Some women craved a man's authority, they relished his hand slapping their bottom and embraced their surrender, and when he had seen her stand up to her father, in spite of her bravado, he'd sensed she had such a nature. She was strong-minded and wouldn't submit to just any man, and he felt deeply moved and humbled that she'd chosen him.

  Gently shifting her off his lap, though he wanted to linger in his bed until the sun was high, he knew he couldn't. The tribe would be gathering over the morning meal, he wanted to question Trebor, and there was the matter of Soraya's pending visit. The Alamans would be arriving in a very short time.

  Doing his best to push the serious matters from his head, he began moving his lips across Serenity's soft, sweet skin, and as he laid on top of her, and thrust himself into her warm, succulent depths, the onerous thoughts left him. There was only her, and him, and their glorious love-making.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  In the room near the top of the stairs, his hands and ankles tied, Trebor was under verbal assault. Bastian was determined to uncover Trebor's informant, but he didn't wish to physically harm him. There were dividends to be gained returning the son of the Phelans' leader without injury. An experienced commander, he knew how the winds could shift and change. Life was full of the unexpected. Protecting Trebor could well be laying the groundwork for Killian's safety in the future.

  "I keep telling you, while the fight was on I was scouting for weapons and other things of value. When I discovered that chamber I just guessed it had to belong to someone important, either you, or—"

  "ENOUGH!" Bastian bellowed. "The weapons' room is virtually impossible for someone to stumble upon. Your man knew it was there, and he lost his life for his knowledge. You knew you were in Killian's room, and don't tell me otherwise or you shall die from your knowledge as your fellow Phelan did."

  Up to that point Trebor hadn't believed Bastian would harm him. Rumor had it that Bastian was ruthless when he needed to be, but he was also canny. Trebor assumed that being the son of his tribe's leader would carry great value to Bastian, but Bastian's face was changing. His eyes were growing black and his face was contorting. Trebor knew exactly what that meant. The leader of the Bathus was growing angry, and making a Bathus angry was not a good idea.

  "I can tell you this much," Trebor said quickly. "It is not one of your men…or one of your women either."

  "Of course you would say that."

  "I speak the truth," Trebor insisted, raising his voice for the first time. "I swear on my father's life. I swear on my mother's life. May the angels strike me down if I am lying to you."

  Bastian narrowed his eyes. He sensed Trebor was speaking the truth.

  "I'm leaving," he said, scowling down at him. "When I return you will tell me the name of the person who betrayed me the moment I walk through the door, or those words will be your last."

  Trebor didn't respond. He would never reveal the identity of the traitor, never. He would take the name to his grave.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  As Killian and Serenity made their way down the hallway towards the stairs, they saw Bastian closing the door of the small room where Trebor was being held. Seeing them approach, Bastian paused to wait, but as Killian drew closer, Bastian saw contentment in his son's expression, and the village girl at his side was glowing. As much as he wanted his son to be happy and at peace, Bastian could never bless such a union. Killian had to marry Soraya, it had been agreed and it was imperative.

  "Good morning, Bastian," Serenity said sweetly as they met up. "I did what you said, and again, I'm really sorry."

  "Did you learn anything from Trebor?" Killian asked before his father could respond. "Do you know why he was in my room? Did he tell you who betrayed us?"

  "I have half the information," Bastian replied as they started down the steps. "He claims the traitor is not in our tribe, and I've made it clear I want the name when I return."

  "Do you believe him, father?"

  "I do, and I'm glad of it. I would find it impossible to accept that one of our own would betray us."

  "I agree."

  "No-one is a traitor until they are," Serenity muttered.

  "What did you say?" Bastian asked, such words a surprise coming from a mere village girl.

  "Nothing, I was just talking to myself."

  "Repeat it."

  Looking up at the powerful leader, she felt a twinge of nervousness. The last thing she wanted to do was speak out of turn and make him upset with her again.

  "I wasn't contradicting you," she said hastily. "I'm sure all your people are very loyal. I just had a thought. It's my brain, it's always talking to me."

  "This is true," Killian remarked. "She often says the most interesting things."

  "I want to hear it," Bastian insisted, pausing his step as they approached the dining hall. "What did you say?"


  "I said, no-one is a traitor until they are. Something is true until it isn't."

  "Where did you hear that?"

  "Nowhere. It just came to me when you said one of your own wouldn't betray you, and that last bit, about something being true until it isn't, that came to me just now."

  "It's a profound comment," Bastian mumbled as he stared at her. "I must ponder it."

  "You're not upset with me?"

  "No, Serenity, I'm not. How often do you have these, uh, thoughts?"

  "All the time, but mostly I keep them to myself."

  "Please don't. I want to hear them as they occur to you."

  "Aren't you worried the Phelans will attack while we're eating?" she asked, taking in the grisly evidence of the fighting the day before.

  "We have Trebor. They will not attack. They'll be too worried that we'll execute him if they do," Killian replied as they started into the dining hall. "It is an uneasy truce, but a truce nonetheless."

  "They won't try to rescue him?"

  "No, they'll wait to hear the demands for his release."

  "But how do they know he's still alive?"

  "It was shouted across the wall the moment he was captured," Bastian declared, "along with a warning. If they try anything we'll cut off his head."

  Serenity shook her head. Life in the castle really was very different to her simple life in the village.

  "You'll sit next to Marian with the other women and the children," Bastian continued. "She's the woman in the red at the head of that table."

  "I'll take you over," Killian offered, seeing the look of uncertainty cross Serenity's face.

  Though Serenity was a brave girl, she would have to walk past the entire tribe to reach Bastian's wife on the opposite of the dining all, but she needn't have worried. As Killian guided her forward, the men began pounding the tables and stamping their feet. She had saved Killian's life, and they were showing their gratitude and approval. Startled by the unexpected noisy welcome, she blushed red and lowered her eyes.

  "Be proud," he said, leaning in to speak in her ear. "You are adored, raise your chin and accept their admiration."

  Taking a deep breath, emboldened by Killian's words, she lifted her head and glanced at the horde of men making the ruckus, and the women who were smiling at her. It was contagious, and she broke into a wide grin. When they reached the table, Miriam rose to her feet and hugged her tightly.

  "I shall never forget that you saved my son," she said warmly. "I shall always be in your debt."

  "I was lucky. I just happened to be there."

  "That's not true. You are an amazing young woman. Sit down and eat with us. It is an honor to have you next to me."

  Killian was overjoyed. Serenity had been embraced by his tribe, and showered in loving gratitude by his mother, and with a confident saunter he made his way to his chair by his father, but before he could sit down one of the men on guard duty came hurrying into the room.

  "It's Godwin, the leader of the Phelans," he exclaimed. "He's here! He laid down his sword and walked through the gate."

  Bastian had been seated, and immediately jumping to his feet he marched from the dining hall with Killian closely following. The tribe knew to stay where they were, their leader had not invited them, but as he disappeared, hushed chatter filled the room. Would Bastian and Godwin come to an agreement? Would the fighting be over?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Marching into the great hall, Bastian saw five of his men surrounding Godwin, the Phelan leader. Godwin was massively built with long black hair spilling around his shoulders, red stripes of fighting paint was smeared across his cheeks, and he sported a beard that fell to his chest. The Phelans did not cut their hair or take a blade to their faces as the members of the Bathus and Alaman tribes did, and their favorite garment was a long piece of cloth that wrapped around their bodies. The Phelans were considered a backward race, but Bastian thought the label was misleading. He knew them to be aggressive and ambitious, and they feared little. Just because they chose a different appearance didn't mean they were backward.

  "What brings you into the belly of your enemy?" Bastian demanded. "We could slay you as you stand here and your tribe would be done for, just as we cut off the head of a snake and it can no longer bite."

  "I am aware of the dangers," Godwin declared, "but I have heard you are a clever man."

  "What is it you want? Speak or leave before you are turned into meat for the scavenger birds."

  "You know what I want. My son. I will take my tribe and leave if you return him to me unharmed."

  "That is not an offer, that is a joke. We could release him and you could attack just the same. Why should I trust you? And you say you would leave us unharmed? You lost many more and we are not battle-weary. We do not fear a second round."

  "What can I offer for his release?"

  "There is only one way your son has any hope of leaving here," Bastian said dramatically, "and that is if you tell me who betrayed us."

  "Betrayed you?" Godwin said with a heavy frown. "How were you betrayed?"

  "Do take me for a fool," Bastian scowled. "You anger me more."

  "If you tell me the betrayal I may have an answer, but as I stand here, what you speak of is a mystery to me. I am unaware of any betrayal."

  "Trebor was in my son's chambers. Another of your men was discovered where we store our weapons. Neither of these places can be easily found. It was not by accident they were there. Someone told them. Who was it?"

  Godwin shook his head in dismay.

  "If Trebor was told, he did not pass it on to me. I know nothing about where you keep your weapons, except what I saw yesterday, and it seemed they were everywhere, and what interest would I have in where your son sleeps? The battle took place here, in this great hall. Is this how you came to capture Trebor? Was he found in Killian's chamber? This is deeply disturbing."

  As Bastian had listened, though it made no sense, he was sure Godwin was telling the truth.

  "Father, a word?" Killian muttered.

  It was rare for Killian to interrupt his father, especially during a questioning, so knowing it must be important, Bastian stepped away with him, far enough from Godwin so they'd be out of earshot.

  "Father, I believe him."

  "As do I," Bastian muttered, "though it gives us more questions, but why must you speak with me?"

  "Perhaps his father can get the truth."

  "An excellent suggestion. He won't tell me, but he might share his secrets with his father. Then Godwin will tell me to save his son."

  "I'm glad you like my idea, father."

  "I should have thought of it. Perhaps my brain, like my body, weakens with age."

  "I have a proposition," Bastian declared, walking back to the Phelan leader. "I will take you to your son and leave you alone with him. If you can extract the information I seek, you will both be set free on condition you leave this area immediately."

  "And if he won't tell me?"

  "That would be bad news for you both," Bastian said solemnly, his gravelly voice sounding even huskier than usual "and Godwin, we have received word the Alaman tribe will be here shortly."

  It had been a short but powerful statement. Godwin knew he would be completely outnumbered when the reinforcements arrived.

  "I thank you for the warning, Bastian. My only desire is to leave this compound with my son, and given what you just told me, you have my word we will head home as soon as he is freed."

  "Killian, take Godwin to Trebor, and take four others and wait outside the door with swords drawn."

  "Yes, father."

  "Godwin, you will knock three times when you are ready to come out. I will be sent for and join you there. Agreed?"

  "Agreed," Godwin nodded. "I know how to speak to my son. You'll have your answer."

  With four guards marching with him, Killian escorted Godwin up the wide stairway, and as Bastian watched them he frowned. It was a puzzle. If Godwin had been telling the trut
h, it meant Trebor had come to the compound with a secret agenda, but what could it be?

  Returning to the dining hall he settled into his chair, ignoring the quizzical looks of his tribe. He would speak when he had something definitive to tell them, and glancing across at Marian and Serenity, his mind turned to another pressing matter; the obvious and growing attraction between Killian and the village girl. It had to be stopped. Nothing could interfere with Killian's marriage to Soraya.

  "The moment the Phelans leave she must be sent home," he muttered under his breath.

  As the meal continued, and he watched her smile and talk with his wife, he had to admit she was a beautiful creature. Lively in manner, with glimmering golden hair that cascaded around her pretty face, and even from across the room he could see her blue eyes sparkling. The Bathus married for life, it was a sacred union, and such a delectable young woman might tempt Killian from his marriage bed. Bastian decided he would have to send Killian to live with Soraya at the Alaman compound until Serenity had found a husband. It would mean he wouldn't be able to step aside and give Killian the leadership as soon as he'd hoped, but it would give his son an opportunity to bond with the Alamans, and keep him away from temptation.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Scooping up the last of his food, Bastian looked across at the dining hall entranceway. He'd expected a faster result from Godwin. It was taking too long. Was Trebor so determined to protect the person who had given him the vital information he would allow the death of both himself and his father? Reaching for his goblet of berry juice, Bastian took a long swallow, searching the faces of his tribe.

  No-one is a traitor until they are.

  Serenity's profound words were echoing through his head. She was absolutely right. Was there one among him who was sour? As much as he didn't want to consider it, he had to.

  "The Alamans are coming down the mountain!"

  One of his scouts had burst in shouting the news, and the dining hall, which had been unusually quiet, surged to life.