Betrayed and captured, Camlin’s being held against her will by King Tor. To make matters worse, he’s claimed her for his own and married her. His goal is to break her into submission while she continues to resist. Throughout this back and forth dance, real feelings begin to emerge. However, as with any situation, it’s not that easy. Between the political connections of Camlin being a rebel and Tor’s own uncle with ambitions of his own, the state of affairs in the kingdom has reached a boiling point.
Come to Torenia and experience the fiery passion that Camlin and Tor bring out of each other. Tor know’s what he wants and will do everything in his power to gain it.
*This story contains adult situations, including domestic discipline. Reader discretion is advised.
Camlin glared at her lord and master, “You are NOT going to spank me for what I said!” Tor sat on a convenient chair and tossed his bride across his lap, “No, I’m spanking you for what you want to say next.”
“What??? But that’s not FAIR!” Camlin struggled wildly, outraged at this high-handed decision. “You can’t spank me for something I haven’t done yet!”
“This is just a promise spanking – to remind you what will happen if you DO misbehave again. I promise the spanking you get after any bad behaviour tonight will be far worse than this one.”
Camlin was a trained warrior, but none of that training had taught her how you cope when someone stronger than you are holding you over his lap. She kicked out, and flailed her arms wildly, trying to reach the floor with hands and toes to get leverage. She pounded on his legs, but his leather boots blockedthe blows. When her wild wrigglings almost took her off his lap Tor used her own movements as a chance to pull her skirt and petticoats up, then lazily hooked his right leg over both of hers and shifted her forwards over his left thigh. Now Camlin was trapped in a tent of fabric, as her skirts fell around her head and shoulders.
Tor listened to the muffled curses floating up from the vicinity of his left ankle and decided to have a discussion about ladylike language at a later date. He took some time to admire the sight before him – fine cambric pantaloons that stretched delightfully over the womanly shape they tried to hide. Taking his time he loosened the ribbons at each side of her waist, grinning at the explosion of fury from the mound of skirts and petticoats. Slowly, so deliberately slowly, he peeled the pantaloons down to reveal two firm alabaster mounds. He patted them softly, provoking more muffled curses and some very rewarding wiggles. Then he peeled the pantaloons down lower, over smooth thighs that shimmied as they tried to kick out. He moved his right leg to loosen his firm hold on those thighs, enjoying the frantic movements as she tried to fight free. The sight of that wildly wriggling bottom, pounding thighs, and the sweet intimacies revealed as she fought so hard to escape…. there were definitely compensations in this sword-marriage of his.
Camlin was wild with fury – how dared he do this! She hated being helpless, she was desperate to fight back. She hadn’t done anything wrong, she’d been TOTALLY restrained in what she said, she’d been insulted first – and he was spanking her for the things she MIGHT say next? It was intolerable, it was unendurable!
But she had to endure, no matter how she struggled and pounded on the floor she couldn’t fight free. She could feel her pantaloons being stripped away and howled her fury at the indignity of it all. When she got free she’d… she’d take a sword and cut off his hand for spanking her! Or cut off something he prized even more! She’d … she’d… The first hard slap on her right cheek brought a surprised squeal. An instant later her left cheek felt the same sting. She shrieked with fury, not pain, as another slap feel on right cheek, then left. Slowly he moved down her cheeks and upper thighs, until they were stinging from the brisk slaps. Then he returned to her sit spots and the slaps became harder, Camlin snarled and struggled but there was no avoiding that hard hand as it slapped down in a steady pattern. “Damn you! You can’t do this to me!” But he could. With gusto. Tor watched the pink glow on her squirming bottom and thighs. This was definitely a pleasurable way to spend the time. He knew from her muffled squeals and curses that his bride was a little upset by this, but it had to be done. It wasn’t a hard spanking, in fact under other circumstances he’d have had her purring like a kitten by now. But he was determined that tonight at the banquet she’d sit on a tingling bottom that would remind her that there was far worse in store if she didn’t keep better control. Just a few more… Half a dozen ringing slaps later her bottom and upper thighs were a lovely warm pink, and her sit spots glowed even brighter. Perfect. He rested his hand on those glowing cheeks to keep the heat going and waited for a few minutes until the muffled curses died down to a steady mumble.
Then he carefully raised her pantaloons again, fumbling to tie the ribbons properly, and – at last – Camlin emerged into the light as her skirts and petticoats here lowered again. In an instant she was on her feet, drew her hand back and delivered a slap right in the face. Tor stood up slowly, then caught her wrist as she swung a second time, “No. You only get one for free.”
Camlin glared at him, “You – that spanking – you had NO right to do that!” “I had every right. I’m your husband, and your king. And I’ll do exactly that every time you need it.”
“It’s not fair!”
“Welcome to royal life, my sweet. It may or may not have been fair, but it was necessary.”
Camlin stamped her foot in frustration, “He was rude to me!”
“Yes, he was.” “And – and he looks down on me because I’m Torenian and my grandfather was a king’s byblow, and he’s a king and he’s your uncle, and here’s you with your Kathlian mother and your Kathlian blonde hair, and-” “And my Torenian eyes, and my Torenian heart. And my beautiful Torenian queen.”
Camlin took a deep breath, then started to relax against him. His grip on her wrist moved a little, so he was holding her hand. His other arm gathered her against him. Camlin sighed, “And I’m supposed to sit there at that stupid banquet tonight and let him say anything he likes about me and not fight back? I can’t say anything?”
Tor smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “You can say anything you want, my dear. But you will NOT let him get to you. Camlin, you lost your temper today. You let him get to you, and that made you careless. Now he knows that if he insults you he can control you.” “He thinks he can control me? HIM? That – that-”
“That noisy little bantam?”
She sighed, then giggled, “He isn’t very large, is he – I thought all Kathlians were supposed to be tall like you.”
“No doubt he has a very high throne at home and looks most impressive.”
“I’ll order the servants to saw a bit off the legs of his chair.” Camlin was grinning now.
“A nice idea, but a little obvious. You could offer him the cushion from your seat, since you won’t be using it.”
That was lovely interlude, ready to grab your copy? You know you want to! Happy reading! ~Mo