by Sue Lyndon
“I think you’ll find the belt can bring you as much pleasure as it has brought you pain,” he said, lightly snapping the tip of leather against her slit. Rhiannon moaned and bucked through each snap of leather against her moist bud, lost in a haze of unbelievable pleasure.
Edwin leaned closer to her spread folds, creating a steady rhythm of slaps with the tip of the belt until she moaned and bucked under a violent release. Her hands were moved away from her center and she gasped for air. He dropped the belt and trailed kisses along her spread thighs. His eyes flashed as he removed his pants and thrust his stiff manhood deep between her quivering folds. She held onto the edges of the table while he drove in and out of her, until he found his own release and collapsed atop her.
*
Rhiannon hummed while she brushed her long, black hair in front of the little mirror in the washroom. Edwin had left before sunrise to check the rolabear traps on the other side of the mountain, so she had the liberty to dawdle this morning. The past few days had been glorious since Edwin hadn’t had to leave the cabin thanks to the lucky catch of blue turkeys. While they still had a few turkeys left, he’d announced that the Crigon dream spirits had urged him to check the rolabear traps.
Though she’d been bitter over Edwin’s long hunting trips at one time, she vowed to never allow herself to behave so selfishly again. She thought of all the men from her village in the Land of Zertrin, knowing none of them matched up to Edwin. She was the luckiest woman alive, she decided. It was also a comfort to know she would never know the pain of death since she would walk straight into the immortal world.
Outside, the snow had begun to melt, slowly but surely. Come the short springtime upon the Cold Top, it would be time to complete the trip to Stretta—if Rhiannon carried a child in her womb. She touched her stomach and wondered if she would recognize the signs of being with child. Without the aid of a healer like her grandmother, it would be difficult to know for certain.
Later in the morning, she stood at the window and sent prayers to both Retta and Stretta, the sister goddesses, that she would soon conceive a child.
Edwin returned in the early evening from the rolabear traps on the other side of the mountain, looking deeply troubled.
“The Crigon dream spirits have never before led me astray,” said Edwin. “Yet there were no animals in the traps.”
Rhiannon paused as she knelt to remove his boots. “What do you think this means?”
“I’m not sure. But only two scenarios could explain this incident. Either there is another person who has been banished to the Cold Top and robbed the rolabear traps, or a shapeshifter from the Land of Holon is drawing near and influencing my dream spirits to play tricks on me.”
She felt the blood drain from her cheeks. Neither of those scenarios sounded good. “Which do you think it is?” she asked.
Edwin pulled her up into his lap, surrounding her with his large arms. “I’m not sure. Have your dreams been strange lately?”
“No. Completely normal. Although, I rarely recall any of my dreams. My grandmother always said my dream spirits were scared away when I almost drowned at the bottom of the Yetsin Waterfall.” They both chuckled at her misfortune.
She stroked his face and leaned against him for comfort. The coming days would be hard, much more difficult than they had been previously, she sensed it in her heart.
“Come,” Edwin said, standing Rhiannon up with him. “Let us eat this wonderful meal you have prepared.”
The uncertainty of the danger outside on the Cold Top weighed on her mind, and dinner was a quiet affair. When the meal was cleaned up and Edwin had finished tending the fire for the night and rechecking the locks on the door and all the windows, they sat together on the bearskin bed. Rhiannon felt at peace and protected in her husband’s arms, but his own worry left her nervous. He was the strongest, bravest man she’d ever met, and to see him fret over the future put the danger they faced in perspective.
“I killed five men in the Land of Holon,” Edwin finally said. “A Holon Tracer may be on the Cold Top looking for me. Or a Holon shapeshifter is biding his time, masquerading in my dreams.”
Rhiannon kept her head nestled against Edwin, but she rubbed a hand soothingly against his bare, muscled chest. “Should we leave the Cold Top now?”
“No. The melting seems to have begun, but that’s not to say it won’t snow yet again this season. The true springtime isn’t due for around forty more days,” he said. “It’s best we wait here, lest we run into a snowstorm on the way to Strellia.”
Rhiannon thought for a moment. “Edwin, if I’m not yet with child, what shall we do then? What shall we do if we cannot enter the gates of Strellia?”
Edwin stroked her hair gently and placed a kiss atop her head. “Then we will travel to the abandoned Palace of Lights inside the Whispering Forest. It’s safely far from the Land of Holon, but close enough to Strellia that the journey there will be short once you are with child.”
Stories of the Palace of Lights came back to Rhiannon, along with childhood songs and rumors of the devils who’d taken over the once grand Whispering Forest sprung into her mind. “But the devil spirits,” she said, “Won’t they absorb our souls and turn our bodies to ash?”
Edwin laughed. “Do those from the Land of Zertrin believe every story they hear?”
“So it’s not true?”
“No, not at all. The royal Crigons who once lived in the Whispering Forest and dwelled within the Palace of Lights marched toward Stretta as one to join our waiting ancestors and become immortals with our kin from all the lands of Earth. There was no plague of devils that drove us out. Again, those from the Land of Holon would have you believe such lies.”
A huge weight fell from Rhiannon’s shoulders. Most of the terrifying stories of life outside the Land of Zertrin seemed to be myths perpetuated by those from the Land of Holon. “Why do they spread such lies to us? Why do they wish all in Zertrin to live in fear?” she asked.
Edwin studied her face. “The Land of Zertrin is powerful, but it is not vast. Those from the Land of Holon only fear that your kind will one day seek to expand into their lands, so they spread lies about roaming Crigons and devil spirits to keep you all in a state of fear. The spice traders and hunters who come in contact with the Holon folk are merely unsuspecting instruments in their game of misinformation.”
Rhiannon smiled. “I was so sure all the stories were true. I can’t believe I used to hate Crigons. I can’t believe I once hated you and feared your simple touch.”
With his eyes smoldering, Edwin leaned forward to place his mouth at Rhiannon’s ear. “The only thing you must fear from me is the sting of my hand or belt upon your bottom when you’ve been disobedient.”
Rhiannon shivered and her bottom clenched involuntarily. It had been several days since the last punishment at Edwin’s hands. Her pulse raced when she thought of his belt snapping lightly against her swollen bud upon the table. Before she could respond to Edwin’s threat, she found herself flipped upon her stomach, her dress pulled up to bare her buttocks.
“Edwin?” she asked hesitantly as his hand caressed her mounds. She hadn’t disobeyed him in the least since that last punishment. She thought hard, trying to recall if she’d done anything to offend him during the day.
“Shh!” he commanded. “Stay right there.”
It was hard to obey, but Rhiannon stayed put, even as she felt Edwin’s hand slap her bottom lightly. It stung, but it wasn’t really that painful. He continued to spank her lightly, moving from cheek to cheek and rubbing her bottom in between slaps. Soon Rhiannon found herself burning for Edwin, felt the moisture pooling between her thighs as everything below her waist ached with need.
“Have I done something wrong?” she finally asked.
“No,” replied Edwin as he moved to slap her thighs lightly.
“Then why am I being punished?” It was hard to call it that—a punishment—but Edwin had never once spanked her without her
actually deserving it.
“I told you once that I enjoyed spanking you, didn’t I?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered, suddenly understanding that this was a prelude to lovemaking. She had had no idea husbands and wives partook in such naughty pleasures.
The spanks suddenly became harder, prompting Rhiannon to gasp aloud. She tried to keep still for Edwin, but it was difficult. Her bottom was soon throbbing and she was wriggling underneath his steady hand. Just as she considered begging, his hand moved to stroke her wet folds and the delicate area within. Her hips ground against his ministrations, even as he slipped a finger into her bottom hole, as he often did during a punishment. Rhiannon’s back arched as he built a momentum inside her, using the moisture from her womanly folds as lubrication.
When Edwin shifted his body behind hers, Rhiannon expected him to enter this very hole, as he sometimes did after a belting. But his finger remained submerged in place, even as his manhood entered her moist center. The pleasure was indescribable, and she moaned with abandon and gasped for breaths.
After their simultaneous releases, they fell fast asleep upon the bearskin rug while the fire glimmered into the night.
*
The melting upon the Cold Top ceased and another snowstorm swept over the lands, leaving it impossible for Edwin to even venture out hunting. Fortunately, they had a decent supply of blue turkeys and a butchered rolabear to survive on. Edwin had also found a huge supply of grains in an abandoned neighboring cabin, so Rhiannon would always be able to bake fresh bread.
“Did you see if there were books in any of the other cabins?” Rhiannon asked over breakfast one morning. She was dying for something to do; perhaps there would be a healing book so that she could continue the studies she had begun under her grandmother.
Edwin took a spoonful of soup but said nothing. Fearful that she had offended him, she immediately lowered her eyes. The last time she’d mentioned books had been right before he’d called her out for murmuring insults and rolling her eyes at him. She looked up quickly, ready to apologize, when she realized he was attempting to suppress a smile.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
Edwin sat his spoon down and pushed away from the table. “Well, I was going to wait until tomorrow, since it’s your twentieth birthday, but I suppose you can have your present early.”
She watched in amazement as he pulled a huge box from one of the low cabinets in the kitchen that she never used. It was wrapped in a pretty silky cloth. “Here,” Edwin said, “Happy birthday, my sweet lass.”
Rhiannon accepted the box and placed it on the end of the table. She stole a shy glance at Edwin before pulling the cloth away and sliding off the wooden lid. There were dozens of tiny books inside, healing books, stories of the Land of Zertrin, and songbooks. “Oh, Edwin. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
She hugged her husband tightly and felt her throat burning. “You’re too good to me!”
Edwin laughed. “I hope you won’t be so bored during the days I’m gone hunting now.”
“Well, I’ll certainly miss you,” she confessed. “But I won’t be bored.” They both laughed and Rhiannon pulled each book out to inspect while Edwin stepped outside to butcher a blue turkey.
When Edwin returned, Rhiannon was seated near the fire with a book in hand. She looked up, suddenly realizing she hadn’t yet cleared the table or cleaned the kitchen. She should’ve started cooking lunch a while ago, but she had lost track of time. The stories concerning the legendary key makers and a spirit named Horyl had her captivated.
“Rhiannon. Come here.”
After gingerly setting the book back into the box, she reluctantly approached him. “I’m so sorry, Edwin,” she said, “I must have lost track of time. It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t,” he replied, a warning look in his blue eyes. “Or you know what the consequences will be.”
“Yes, Edwin,” she said, bowing her head. “I’ll clean up and start lunch right now.”
Edwin swatted her backside once sharply as she moved past him.
Chapter 4
Rhiannon was snuggled next to Edwin on the bearskin, enjoying the peaceful crackling of the fire in the otherwise silent night. That is, until she remembered the trouble from the Land of Holon.
“Edwin, have your dreams been strange lately?”
She noticed his eyes flash and he seemed hesitant to speak. “Yes. I am confident that it is a Holon shapeshifter nearing the Cold Top that has influenced my dream spirits.”
“Will he hurt us?”
“Before the snows started up again, I placed flaggarock underneath the ground in a circle around the cabin. If he sets foot inside, then he will turn to ash. When I smell him close, I will hunt him down so that he won’t be a problem while we are journeying to Strellia.”
Rhiannon cringed. It didn’t worry her that Edwin roamed the Cold Top hunting rolabears and other beasts, but a Holon shapeshifter sounded dreadfully dangerous. “I’m afraid for you, Edwin.”
He brushed her hair behind her ears. “There’s no need to fret, lass. I killed a shapeshifter once during my days as a mortal. I am much stronger now and their weaknesses haven’t changed in five hundred years. I will be fine.”
Before Rhiannon could reply, a wild roar pierced the night, an otherworldly noise that rang in their ears.
“The wild beasts know springtime is almost upon us. You have obeyed my rule to remain inside the cabin well since the last time I punished you for it. I know the temptation to venture outside will return to you full force once you see flowers and berries outside your window. I need to you understand how dangerous springtime on the Cold Top can be.” His voice was grave and deeper than usual.
“I understand. I won’t venture outside,” she promised.
“You mustn’t open the door or the windows for a moment.”
“Not even the windows?” Rhiannon complained. “But the air will smell so sweet and the breezes warm for a change.”
The stern look on Edwin’s face made her regret that statement. “No. Not even the windows. Many of the beasts would catch your scent and push an open window further up to gain entrance to the cabin so that they could enjoy you as a snack.”
Her heart sank. So much for enjoying the short but beautiful springtime upon the Cold Top. There was no summertime with the heat as blistering as in the Land of Zertrin. Only frigid cold and a short springtime at the appointed time each year. She cursed the dangerous Cold Top beasts and the Holon shapeshifter, wishing she could frolic about the mountain and through the surrounding forest as carefree as she used to venture around the village when the weather grew warmer. She reminded herself she wasn’t in the village anymore. Much had changed during the last few months, she thought as she looked at her handsome, fierce husband.
He pulled her close and kissed her hard, and for the next few hours her worries melted away.
*
When springtime officially arrived, Edwin brought home less wild game and more fruits and berries from the surrounding woods. He also brought plenty of fresh flowers each day for Rhiannon to arrange in vases around the house. But he still refused to allow her to open even one window, even when he was at home.
She longed to sit outside upon a bed of grass and read her books, and she contemplated disobeying Edwin, but she feared the punishment as much as she dreaded disappointing him. If only that awful Holon shapeshifter wasn’t lingering around in search of Edwin.
One afternoon, when Edwin was checking the woods for signs of the shapeshifter, Rhiannon caught sight of a small rolabear outside their home. In fact, it seemed to be walking circles around the cabin, rising upon its hind legs to gaze into the windows. Its color was strange, she thought, so strange that it might not even be a rolabear. Its dark fur gleamed with the hint of green.
She watched it for a while before coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t a rolabear or a beast of the Cold Top at all.
It was the H
olon shapeshifter. It had to be.
Her heart pounded as she imagined having to watch Edwin battle the creature, fearful of what this shapeshifter could transform into. This creature had been commissioned by the kin of the men from Holon that Edwin had killed, no doubt. It had to be stopped so they could leave the Cold Top. Springtime would end soon and Edwin refused to travel down the mountain with Rhiannon while the shapeshifter roamed around.
Suddenly, Edwin’s words came back to her, “If he sets foot inside, then he will turn to ash.”
The flaggarock!
Without contemplating the situation further, Rhiannon bravely flung the front door open and stepped back, waiting to witness the Holon shapeshifter enter the cabin and turn to ash. This horrid creature’s death would be her release from the Cold Top.
She would see the Palace of Lights soon.
Her stomach flipped when she heard the green, furry creature shuffling around the cabin toward the door. Her heart pounded when its massive head poked around the doorway, loudly sniffing the air. It could smell her. Its feet were a smidge away from entering the house. Just a little further, she thought. Come inside you dreadful beast!
She watched the Holon shapeshifter take its first step inside, but its body didn’t turn to ash. She panicked when its black marble eyes looked up at her and a low growl rippled in the beast’s throat. The creature remained in an attack position, crouched with just its two front paws inside the cabin.
Just the two front paws. Perhaps its whole body had to be inside for it to become ash.
Rhiannon gulped and sent silent prayers to Stretta and Retta that she hadn’t made a foolish mistake. Then she stepped forward and shook her long hair, imagining this action would cause her scent to hit the creature’s nose full force.
It worked. The furry beast took several steps inside the cabin, but the fearsome creature did not turn to ash.
Her heart contracted and she thought of Edwin. She hadn’t listened to his warning about opening the door, and now she was about to die.