Captive Discipline (Demetrian Brides Book 1)

by Taryn Williams

  Janys felt the jolt through her arm as she swung the paddle forward and connected with her target. Sariontella gasped but didn't cry out as a mark emerged across her white skin.

  Gritting her teeth, Janys struck again. Already she could feel tears pricking at her own eyes over the pain she was causing. Why didn't the girl start crying so she could end it? But the student's eyes remained dry through two more rounds even as her backside turned darker red.

  At first she didn't hear the knock at the door, dealing out two more hard blows before a loud rap stayed her hand. Flipping Sariontella's tunic back down, Janys still held the paddle as she reached for the knob. Pannolorian stood in the hallway. "I'm sorry," she told him. "But this is a really bad time. I'm correcting someone."

  "I know," he replied, his face worried. "Sarionetella. Jernonon came to tell me. He worried you might not know about her home circumstances. In fact, I did not either until he described them."

  "No, I haven't heard anything." Janys stepped outside, keeping the paddle arm back where it couldn't be seen by passerbys.

  He dropped his voice. "Her father left the family two Planetfalls ago, and now her mother has become ill. I understand she spends most of her time at home taking care of her sister and brother. She has earned a few spanks from me for being late on her assignments as well, but—"

  "It's wrong for me to expect her to be able to stay after school," Janys finished. "I wish I'd known. Thank you for telling me. I'll let her go now."

  "I am just glad Jernonon finally said something. In fact, I believe I will go tell Meisin and the others so we can all be a little more understanding." Smiling, he headed back to his own class.

  Janys backed into her room. Sariontella lay tensed across the desk, her prander bunched around her ankles. Going over, Janys reached down and slid them back up, then patted the girl's back. "We're done," she said quietly. "And I'm sorry. If I'd only realized what was going on in your life, I'd have been happy to give you a few more days. Or maybe Master Pannolorian could excuse you from physical education so you can have a study hour at school."

  At first she didn't think Sariontella heard her, but then she felt the heaving shoulders. Finally the young woman released the pain she'd been carrying, far more than anything Janys might have dealt her. Janys rubbed her back as she let her cry it out, first across the desk, then in a tight hug. By the time the girl finally regained her composure, both had soggy tunic fronts.

  The rest of the decedonner passed quickly, while the next flew past as things fell into rhythm at the school. She'd gotten past feeling like a beginner and had started wondering whether to ask for additional work when suddenly she found herself nodding off during her afternoon rest sessions, once sleeping until Martel arrived home. More alarming, her breasts felt full and tender.

  Could it be? Her birth control implant should have protected her for a little while longer, but she'd heard once its effectiveness might be shortened by stress. Without Institute technology, Dr. Alaniette wouldn't be able to confirm it for at least another decedonner.

  Janys rested her hand on her stomach, caressing her skin. "We'll wait until we're sure before we tell your father," she whispered. "In the meantime, I'll keep learning as much as I can about children. I think I've figured out some things, but there's always something new to learn."

  And always something new starting.

  Chapter 12

  Janys leaned back in her chair as she read the first essay in the pile. After the middlers finished reading a book about a boy choosing between studying astronomy and staying on Demeter, she'd assigned them to write about individual life decisions. Although she no longer found their society to be as oppressive as she'd first believed, it couldn't hurt to remind children they could follow a different path.

  Children. She ran her fingers across her stomach. On her way home yesterday afternoon she'd stopped by Dr. Alaniette's clinic to pick up her test results. While she'd planned to give Martel the big news last night, she'd held off when he'd stumbled in bleary eyed and exhausted from a crisis at the trade center. That morning he'd taken off before she could think about facing the breakfast table. Surely things would calm down that evening so they could have a private moment…

  "Janys." For a second she didn't recognize the voice. Startled, she looked up to see her husband's rigid figure in the doorway.

  Maybe she'd just been handed her moment, though she didn't understand why he'd be at her school during working hours. But the news died on her lips as he stared at her. Despite the fact he'd uttered her name, he looked as though he'd never seen her before.

  "Martel, what's wrong?" Could something have happened to his family? She jumped up and ran over, planning to take him in her arms, but he grabbed her wrist with his left hand and held it away. His right trailed down at his side, holding something she couldn't see.

  "You will come with me now." Bending her arm behind her back, he forced her into the narrow hallway.

  "What are you doing?" she cried, trying to pull away. "You're hurting me! Tell me why you need me and I'll come with you as soon as I finish grading these papers—"

  "Someone else will finish them for you." He kept up the pressure on her arm. "I doubt it will make much difference in any case. Right now you have much bigger concerns. The Council will be meeting shortly to decide how to handle your actions. Before I turn you over to them, I intend to deal with you myself."

  Every cell in her body froze. As far as she knew, she hadn't done anything lately to anger Martel, much less attract the attention of the Council. Even her bibalon held only a few entries.

  "I don't know what you're talking about! And I'm not going one more step with you until you tell me!" She sat down, her rear hitting hard against the polished floor.

  He released her just in time to keep from overbalancing. From this vantage point, she could see what he held in his right hand. She stopped breathing as she recognized the thick black cane Rodogan had shown her.

  For a second she thought he intended to get a new grip and drag her along, but instead he reached inside his tunic and took out a small dataport. The first she'd seen since coming to this planet.

  "There!" he threw it in her lap. "Go on—plug it in! I doubt you have forgotten how!"

  Although it was an older model, she still thought it would work with her implant. But why was her husband ordering her to use prohibited technology? Quickly she pressed it against the back of her neck, feeling the slight tingle as she searched for a downloadable file.

  Only one occupied the entire device—the big story of the day from the "Universal Chronicle", the major news portal for the Protectorate. "Tales from Captivity" the headline blazed across her brain. "Institute Researcher Shares Diaries Re: Demetian Life."

  She only had to experience a few moments of the presentation to recognize the text. Jerking her hand away, she cried. "But those are my journals! How did they get them?"

  "How do you think? Perhaps when you gave them to your Professor?" Grabbing the port, he jabbed it against her implant. The word "Professor" keyed up an image of the man telling talk show host Lianna Martin how his research assistant Janys Livingston rebelled against slavery to sneak the journals into his hands.

  "Martel, I didn't give him anything," she whispered. "I didn't TELL him anything. I let you know what happened—"

  "Silence!" he commanded. "You can say whatever you want to the Council if you think it may spare your life, but I will not listen to any more of your lies." He scowled down at her. "Now get up."

  "Are you taking me home?".

  Martel shook his head. "As if I could return you to your Institute, which seems to be the only home you recognize. No, I am taking you to the square. We have some business there before you face the Elders."

  "Oh God, Martel—no!" Frantically her eyes searched the hallway. Was there some place she could run to? Perhaps Master Pannolorian's classroom? Or Meisin's office? Unfortunately she couldn't expect either to intervene between her and her
husband. "Please! You're not going to take me there and whip me with that thing—"

  "I will start whipping you with it right here if you do not stand up and start walking towards the door." He prodded her with his toe. "Now are you going to move, or do you want me to thrash you in front of the students?"

  She got to her feet, wondering if her legs would carry her all the way to the square. Maybe she'd fallen asleep on the couch and fallen into a nightmare. Yet she couldn't remember any dream being so vivid, from the sweat on the back of Martel's neck to the ache in her shoulder where he pinned her arm.

  They marched out into the blazing sunlight. "Martel, listen to me for just a minute. You can't believe I did this—"

  His voice trembled. "You told me you loved me. That you wanted to stay with me. All to buy time so your Professor could make publishing arrangements."

  "That's not true," she sobbed. "I do love you. And I told Prof I wanted to stay here."

  Spinning around, he released her hand to grab her shoulder, shaking it hard. "Before or after you kissed him?"

  "I—" Speechless, she couldn't look him in the eyes.

  "Or maybe you want to deny that as well," he shook her again. "Unfortunately for you, Tadewidan managed to get that much truth out of Shalimerie by threatening to charge her as your conspirator. She could have ended up losing Chardontal forever. Yet she still insists you never said anything about the journals—"

  "Because there wasn't anything to say!" she cried. "I didn't give them to him! I didn't even tell him they existed! And he's the one who kissed me. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to be hurt!"

  From the edge of her eye she saw a flash of movement, but before she could react something hard thumped against her backside. "No," he told her sternly as he held her in place, swinging again. "You 'failed' to tell me because I might have figured out how things actually stood between us. How you and your lover were playing me and everyone else in Wyteen. Then you would be the one hurting, as you will be in a few minutes."

  Even through the layers of tunic and prander, the cane burned. "It wasn't that way!"

  He pulled her forward again. "When we get to the square, I intend to leave my mark on you. For the rest of your life, however short it may be, it will help you remember how you betrayed my family and me. You will have a lot to write in your next installment, but I doubt you will be given the chance."

  "Wait!" Suddenly her fear-choked mind remembered her current writing. "I don't know what Prof got, but he can't have my newest volume. I wrote in that last night. Martel, we'll go home and I'll show it to you. You'll see how much I love you, how much I was looking forward to our—"

  "Silence." He clapped his hand across her mouth. "I am sure you are clever enough to have a second journal filled with all sorts of good things in case this happened. You want to make the Council and me hesitate long enough so you can escape your punishment…"

  "Just LOOK at it first—" she tried to get out, knowing he couldn't understand her muffled words.

  "You have two choices, Janys." The cold fury in his voice cut through the hot air. "If you want to continue this charade of being my wife, you will obey me without saying another word. That means coming with me to the square, and submitting to the cane. When we are done, I may look at this other journal while you plead your case to the Council. Nod if you understand."

  She closed her eyes and bobbed her head. "If you refuse to offer your body for my correction, I will leave you now." His fingers closed around her marital bracelet. "But first I will rip this from your arm. With the marriage ended, the Council will again have no alternative but to sentence you to Kollent."

  "But—" she cried through his fingers.

  This time the cane caught her lower legs. "Not one more word, Janys, or it will be the last you say as my wife."

  Hot tears dripped down her face as she stumbled after him… How could this be happening? She'd never left the Prof alone long enough to take her journals, even if he'd known where to look. Of course other people know about their existence—

  Yagote. Prof thought someone else might be in the house, but she'd dismissed his fear along with his worries over hidden microphones and cameras. But when he came to pick her up at Shalimerie's house, Martel mentioned Yagote being there making lunch… While Janys washed her face, the other woman could have spirited the journals out the door.

  But if she tried to tell her suspicions to Martel, her marriage would be over before she could even get out a complete sentence. Besides would he believe his adopted sister guilty of treachery?

  She hoped the square would be vacant as they'd usually find it at this time, but a small crowd gathered around the whipping platform. A nude woman had been bent into place, buttocks jutting out of the wooden restraints. As they drew nearer, she identified the long black hair spilling over the bare shoulders. Something long and thin flashed in the sunlight, and Shalimerie's body convulsed.

  "Kronitin begged Tadewidan to let him take care of her this way instead of bringing her before the Council," Martel informed her. "We do not think you were foolish enough to tell her directly about the journals. However, if we had known about your relationship with the Professor, we could have taken more steps to protect ourselves. I know she considered it to be the confidences of a friend, but she still has to take responsibility for the harm her silence caused."

  Janys shook uncontrollably. Her failure to take Shalimerie's advice caused the other woman to be severely punished. I do deserve to be whipped, she thought dully. Maybe Yagote gave the journals to the Professor, or maybe he teleported them out of my house, but I'm completely to blame for what's happening now.

  Thankfully Shalimerie's ordeal ended by the time they crossed to the far corner of the square. Kronitin put an arm around her shoulder, helping her away before Janys could catch her eye. "Let us through," Martel told the crowd. Quickly the others stepped aside, clearing a path to the dreaded platform.

  In a trance, Janys climbed the steps. "Strip," she heard him say, and she automatically reached for the fastenings on her tunic. Despite the heat, her fingers felt numb as she fumbled with the ties. Martel shoved her hands away and undid them himself, roughly pulling off her clothes. Within seconds she was totally naked.

  He didn't bother with the head restraint as he buckled the leather straps around her wrists. Just like the forbinner, except then they'd been alone. And for that he'd promised not to leave any permanent mark. Now he wanted to hurt her, and there's was nothing she could say—

  Her scream filled the square as the cane struck full across her buttocks. "That was for 'Obedience'," Martel announced. "Here comes 'Promptness'." She heard the whistling, then another line of pain ripped through her. Frantically she pulled at the restraints. "'Responsibility'." She writhed as he cracked it again across her helpless bottom.

  "I know I will always feel the scars from the last two vows you broke. So I think it only right that you and everyone else be able to see them as well." He stuffed her clothes in a bundle at her feet. "Kneel." Trembling and sobbing, she slumped down on them.

  The cane lightly tapped across her shoulder blades. "I will put 'Faithfulness' here. As for 'Honesty'"—he moved to her lower back and pressed it, forcing her forward against the base of the structure.

  The baby. If he hit there as hard as he threatened, her stomach would be smashed against the wood. Leaning her head back, she yelled up at him, "Stop! I'm pregnant!"

  "What?" With the sun behind him, she couldn't see his face.

  "Pregnant, Martel!" she choked out. "So tear off my marriage bracelet if you want to, but I'm not going to let you harm our son or daughter."

  The crowd fell silent. Perspiration ran down Janys's back to the welts left by the cane. "You're lying." However underneath the accusation, she sensed uncertainty.

  "If you would just read my last journal like I asked, you'd know I'd planned to tell you last night, but you didn't give me a chance." She shook her head, trying to fling away the te
ars.

  "We had gotten a rumor about the Chronicle story. Until we had the facts, I was not permitted to speak to you about it," he said stiffly. "I thought it best we not speak at all."

  . "So now you know what you missed…"

  "So you say." The cane brushed ominously against her bare skin. "What convenient timing, Janys."

  "You don't believe me." Around her the crowd made rustling sounds. "Lean over, Martel. Let me remind you of something without an audience."

  He paused so long she feared he'd decided to end the conversation, but finally she felt him squat down beside her. "You may say one more thing, then we will proceed."

  "Think, Martel." She formed the words carefully. "Think how many decedonners we've been married. Think how many times you've made love or spanked me without interruption. I haven't had my period since the decedonner before our marriage."

  Janys watched him do the calculations. "It does seem unusual," he admitted.

  "If Demetian medicine hadn't taken a step back into the Dark Ages, I could have confirmed it a couple of decedonners ago. But Dr. Alaniette said it wouldn't be one hundred percent sure until this week." Janys turned as far as she could, trying to catch his eye. "Go ask her if you don't believe me. She'll tell you I didn't make up our baby."

  "I will do that." He stood up abruptly. "But you will remain here. If I find out you have lied to me about this, I will stripe you from the nape of your neck to your ankles."

  "I'm not lying." Besides the three lines of fire across her rear end, the restraints cut into her hands, and her knees had begun to ache. Still she could understand why Martel distrusted her.

  Fortunately people began drifting away after Martel's departure until by craning her neck, Janys could tell she'd been left alone with the sun and the pain. After what seemed an interminable time, she heard footsteps behind her. "Here," a voice said softly, holding a cup of cold water to her dry lips. She drank awkwardly, not wanting to look into Shalimerie's eyes.