by Renard, Loki
“Please,” I whimper. “Take me.”
“Not yet,” he says. “Right now, my little girl is getting her spanking. Daddy’s princess is going to have a very sore bottom.”
With that, he starts spanking me hard and fast and stern. His palm lands over and over, whipping my warmed-up cheeks to a hot crescendo. I start to scream and cry, but I’m not begging for him to stop. I’m letting the pain in. I’m feeling every bit of it, knowing this is what I deserve.
My pussy is making a mess of his pants, the fine material soaked with my juices. My hips dance back and forth, desperate to escape the punishment my heart and soul need.
Tears flow, coursing down my cheeks—and then there is a respite, two fingers plunged hard into my pussy, stretching me. Mattias holds me in place, one arm firmly around my waist, the other working those thick fingers in and out of my pussy hard and rough, working me toward a screaming contrite climax that leaves me quivering over his lap.
“Good girl,” he praises, patting my bottom as I sniffle.
“Please... Mattias...”
“I know what you want,” he says, helping me to sit up gingerly, the skin of my bottom so sensitive I have to just barely perch on his thigh. “But that comes later.”
“Please...”
He stops my pleas with a kiss. A deep, thorough, loving kiss that sinks through my body, gives me the relief of his love. I am Daddy’s princess. I am the king’s lover. I am a captive, and I love it.
“You have others to make amends to,” he reminds me when he breaks the kiss.
“But you could tell them you already punished me. You could save me...”
“It wouldn’t be saving you,” he says. “It would be spoiling you, and you are spoiled enough.”
“But... not now, please... I am sore.”
“I know you are,” he says. “And that is why it has to be now.”
“Mattias...” I start to whimper, and then to cry. “No more. Not now. I am too sore.”
My pleas do nothing to stop him from calling out to an attendant. He tells the man he is ready for the mercenaries. I am not ready for them. I try to slip off Mattias’ lap. I try to escape, but there is no escape. He holds me in place, my sore ass made all the worse for my squirming.
Pharaoh, Alexios, and Silver come in due course. They have all bathed. They are dressed in light armor; none of them quite trusting this place as yet. I doubt they will ever be without weapons. They remember what happened just as well as I do.
“She defied you,” Mattias says, shifting me on his lap, one of his big hands slipping down each of my thighs, to spread them and hold them apart. He has my sex on display, sliding me down his lap a little so that my knees hook over his, my pussy lewdly open to the men I love. “What is your punishment?”
The punishment, to me, is being held like this, being made sore and small and vulnerable. The punishment is seeing the disappointment in their eyes. Silver is not as concerned as the others—he never is. Alexios has some hand in my presence here, but Pharaoh’s dark eyes are heavy with an anger I know will lead to hurt.
Silver approaches first. He fixes me with a long look and I feel myself start to drift under his influence.
“You disobeyed us,” he says. “You flew back here like a little homing pigeon.”
“I had to...”
“You said you came here for money... that doesn’t make sense, Trissa. You never wanted money. You wanted freedom. But you had it, and you gave it up. So, my punishment for you is this: you will always be owned. You will give me and the others your pussy on demand. You will slide that little cunt down on my cock when I please for the rest of your life. And you will like it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I whimper.
He leans down and rubs his hand over my sex, his fingers drifting over my sex. I know what he’s going to do. He’s going to spank me there. He’s going to whip my pussy. I know it—but he’s making me wait for it. He’s teasing the little folds. He’s drifting his digits down to the tight little hole and he’s circling it. He’s making pleasure start to spiral through me...
Slap!
The swat connects just above my clit. I scream out, but he doesn’t acknowledge the pain. He holds me in his gaze and flickers a little wink at me.
“You need it to hurt,” he whispers, a moment before he spanks me again.
It hurts. My poor pussy stings and aches, but he spanks me anyway and Mattias holds me for it, the king presenting his princess for her pussy punishment.
Silver mercifully stops after a dozen slaps, but I am not done. Alexios comes forward. His cock is in his hand and he pushes it inside me without a word, my inner walls stretching for him, my spanked pussy stinging as he thrusts inside, grabbing my hips and yanking me up and off Mattias’ lap, he holds me aloft and fucks me standing.
We are nose to nose, eye to eye, his big hands lifting me up and down on his cock. I am slick with desire and pain, and he uses both to punish me; backing me up against the wall of the building, he starts fucking me roughly, his cock slamming inside me over and over again.
Others lecture, but he doesn’t say a word. He lets his body do the talking, his mouth descending on my breasts, feasting on the tender buds of my nipples. He ravages me, slams his cock inside me, makes me a sloppy wet mess for him and he holds his cum, strictly disciplined because my punishment is a long hard fuck that I cannot escape. Stroke after stroke blazes inside my deserving pussy, his hands grasping my red hot ass, the tender lips of my cunt gripping his dick so damn tight.
It hurts so good. It makes me want to cry out. I come once and then over again. He forces orgasms from me, no fancy means of torment, just plain hard fucking, the hard line of his pubic bone grinding my spanked clit over and over. I come half a dozen times and by the time he takes mercy on me and deigns to spill his seed inside me I am aching inside and out.
“Don’t ever fucking make me worry for you like that again,” he growls in my ear as he slides from me and lets my feet touch the floor.
“I won’t, I promise,” I whimper, meaning it.
There is one man left. Pharaoh. Standing in the middle of the balcony, his hands on his hips, the eagle amber of his eyes focused on me so fiercely I wish I could sink through the ground. I am naked, cum-sodden, sore, spanked, and I know none of that matters to him right now.
“I’m sorry,” I whimper, falling to my knees. It won’t save me, I know that. “Take me. Hurt me. Use me. Just... forgive me.”
He draws in a deep breath. Pharaoh—no, Oren. That’s his name. I know him perhaps the least of all of them. He takes the dimmest view of my behavior. He is the most demanding. He holds himself apart in many ways, and I crave his approval, though I know I do not have it.
“Forgiveness is given when lessons are learned,” he says. “You haven’t learned a thing.”
“I have, I promise!”
“You would promise anything to avoid more punishment.”
“That’s not true. You can do anything you want to me.”
“I know that,” he snaps.
I swallow. “Or maybe... you don’t want to do anything to me anymore.”
“You have not earned the right to pity yourself, girl,” he growls.
I look around at the others—Silver, Alexios, Mattias—for help, but even the king himself has decided to leave me to Oren’s wrath.
“What can I do to make it up to you?”
He gives me a hard look. “Get up.”
I get to my feet.
“Put your clothes back on.”
I get dressed, feeling even worse than I did when I was undressed. It is odd how the act of being stripped and spanked and fucked can feel so much more comforting than being told to get dressed.
“Come with me.”
He turns on his heel and walks away without looking back to see if I am following.
“Better go after him, girl,” Mattias prompts me when I shoot a lost look at him.
I scurry after
Oren, following him out of the building and through the streets. It’s like he doesn’t know if I’m there or not and he doesn’t care. I know he’s angry at me for leaving the camp. I know he’s angry that I came to what could have been a war zone. I know I deserve punishment.
Suddenly I know where we are going.
“No... Oren...”
He doesn’t turn his head. He doesn’t even act as though he can hear me. He walks toward that concrete wall. The place I first saw the horrors. I don’t want to see them again. I know if I look again, it will not be the faces of strangers I will see...
“Come. On.”
He is impatient. He doesn’t understand why I am so terrified. Or perhaps he does. Perhaps my punishment is to see what should never be seen, to have more horror written in my mind...
There is a gate now. Perhaps there always was and I just didn’t see it. Oren waits next to it, his tall frame taut with impatience.
“I can’t go in there,” I try to explain.
He grabs me by the back of my shirt and drags me through the gate. The scream I have on my lips dies when I see what is behind the gate.
The field of horrors is gone. It is grass, and where bodies once lay contorted on the ground, there are neat markers.
Oren drags me across to the far end, where five dark obsidian statues stand sentry over the other markers.
“Do you know what those are?”
I look at them, feeling guilt weighing me down, dulling my senses. They depict men. Five strong men, eyes raised to the east, where the king’s building stands.
“These are the men who died for you,” he says, his voice heavy with the grief we both feel. “These are the men who will have died in fucking vain if something happens to you before your natural time.”
“I’m sorry...”
“Stop saying that,” he snaps, his face contorted with agitation. “You’re not sorry. You don’t know what sorry is. You say sorry, and then you do whatever you want. Because you know we aren’t going anywhere. You know we will follow you to the ends of the earth...”
“You will?”
“Yes,” he growls. “I would die for you, Trissa.”
It would be sweet, if he wasn’t snarling it at me.
“I...”
“Don’t you fucking dare say you’re sorry,” he growls.
“I’m not worthy of this,” I say, finishing my sentence. “I know I’m not. If I wasn’t a female, I’d be in there with them. I know I don’t deserve any of this attention. I know I wouldn’t be getting it if it wasn’t for...”
“Stop!” He snaps the word at me as I descend into self-pity again.
“Be worthy, Trissa,” he says. “Be worthy of the sacrifice they made for you. Have your babies. Raise them. Don’t ever take a single breath for granted.”
I nod solemnly. This is a lot to take in, but I try not to hide from what he’s showing me, the stark reality of all that has happened.
“You think more of me than some of the others. Thank you.”
“What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side curiously.
“They fuck me. They spank me. They lecture me. You expect me to be better. I’m going to try to be better.”
He nods and puts his hand on my shoulder. “I do think you’re worthy,” he says. “I think you’re capable of being great. And I think you are our partner. Not our captive. We shouldn’t have to constantly beat you into sensible obedience.”
“I guess you shouldn’t,” I agree, hanging my head.
“We’re going to have more to protect than just you soon. We’re going to have Tore’s baby. And that little one is going to be trouble,” Oren says. “Tore and you combined? I don’t know if any of us will survive that.”
I sense a little forgiveness now, a lightening of the mood. I allow myself a small smile.
“I’ll do my best.”
“Good girl,” Oren says, drawing me into the hug I so desperately crave from him.
I breathe his scent, and just barely withhold the impulse to apologize again.
“So, would, I don’t know, fucking my ass make you feel better?”
He pulls back and stares at me. For a second I think he is about to yell at me, but instead he bursts into laughter.
“My god, girl.”
“Well, I mean,” I smirk. “It seems to put people in a good mood...”
“True,” Oren agrees. “But I’ll have my turn with you another time. I want to be sure you’ve really heard what I said today. What you did... coming here, in some mad attempt to steal the treasury, or take over the whole city barefoot and pregnant—that was madness, Trissa. You can’t afford to be mad anymore. You’re going to be a mother.”
“I understand,” I say, trying not to sigh. He’s right. My plan was madness—and yet, it seems to have worked out. Maybe we don’t make decisions as much as we let decisions make us, and maybe there is a force that makes things right almost as much as it makes them wrong.
Chapter Fourteen
“You have got to tell us how you became king!”
Mattias has been entirely too reticent about that particular detail, but as we all eat together on the balcony where I was thoroughly punished, I press him for the details.
I am curled up in Alexios’ lap as Mattias starts to tell his story.
“The war was vicious, but short-lived. Once they realized you were gone, there was little point fighting it.”
“Really? What about control of the city?”
“San Antonio and Houston were depleting their resources far too fast to maintain their own holdings. War is expensive, and their treasuries were light. The sheriff spent most of Dallas’ revenue on himself, there wasn’t a great deal to win, and they were risking becoming vulnerable to other city states. Both were on the verge of being invaded themselves when I made a diplomatic arrangement between the pair of them. Increased trade, open borders between the cities, and open harems.”
“Open harems?”
“The women of the Dallas harem may now travel to other cities, find the noblemen they wish to breed with. They are no longer captive, but they are protected.”
“That’s what I wanted to do!” I exclaim, looking at Oren and Silver and Alexios. “Remember! That’s what I was saying!”
“Well, that’s what I did,” Mattias smiles. “And you, my wild little thing, I take by your previous attire, you returned to the place you were born.”
“I did,” I admit. “You didn’t come after me?”
“I considered it,” Mattias admits. “But you told me so often you wanted your freedom. I was willing to grant it.”
“So you knew I’d escaped. And you let me go.”
I am impressed by that. He could have sent soldiers for us. He could have killed my mercenaries and dragged me back to be his tool. Instead, he set about improving the lives of the people of the city, and he gave me what I spent so long saying I wanted.
“Mhm. Until, of course, you returned,” Mattias smiles. “Now, you belong to the crown.”
“Well, I don’t think they’re going to like that,” I say, jerking my thumb toward Alexios, Silver, and the very, very grim-looking Pharaoh.
“Oh, we like it just fine,” Silver says. “It’s going to take the resources of a king to keep you in check, apparently.”
“She’s a wild little thing,” Mattias smirks. “She needs to be kept on a short leash. She needs to learn what obedience is. And she needs to be protected from herself when she forgets.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” I object with a pout.
Mattias talks over my head. “As agreed, you will serve as her guard. You will have the breeding rights you earned, and you will keep her safe. In return, I offer you shelter here in Dallas, and an army loyal to its commander. We are experiencing greater prosperity and trade than ever. I expect that to continue.”
“One last thing,” Oren says.
“Yes?”
“We’re not done with p
unishing Trissa yet.”
“We’re not?” I look at him, wide-eyed. “I thought we had a good talk!”
“A good talk does not go far with you,” Oren replies. “What we did today is a start. It is not an end.”
“I had my thoughts on the matter,” Mattias says.
“What?” I slide back into the shelter of Alexios’ arms. “Tell them I’m sorry and it’s all done now.”
“I don’t think that’s how this works,” Alexios murmurs down at me.
I know I am safe with these men, but I also know they are deviant and inventive and my punishment may very well never truly end.
“The people are eager to see her again,” Mattias says, his dark eyes warm on mine. “Since taking leadership, I have received requests for her more than anything else. Extra food is nothing on the prospect of seeing your pleasure broadcast.”
“You... uhm...”
Suddenly, there are smiles all round except on my face.
They know how embarrassed I was the first time. They know the humiliation involved in being turned into a sexual spectacle.
“A fitting punishment,” Oren says. “A reminder...”
“But Tore...” I say. “It was with Tore. And I am going to be a mother. You can’t do filthy things like that to me now.”
“We will certainly do filthy things to you,” Oren says. “You’re ours, Trissa. We’re going to make full use of you.”
I narrow my eyes and open my mouth to argue, but Mattias stops me.
“Don’t argue with him, princess,” he says, the affectionate term defusing some of my outrage. “You can’t expect all you have done to be wiped clean in one day. You led these men on a chase across the country for two, worrying about your welfare every moment. And you promised them your obedience.”
“I’m not arguing. But... but... I did what was right for the life inside me. Not what was best for...”
“You are arguing,” Mattias says kindly, but firmly. “You did what you did, knowing that there would be consequences, so take those consequences now, without complaint.”
Mattias makes a good king. A very, very good king. He knows what it is to suffer, and to be humbled. And he knows what it is to be kind as well as firm. Even in the midst of my embarrassment at the notion of another public mating, I can’t help but admire him.