Black Dorn [submission/punishment/bondage] (11 page)

"When I was instructed here,
I failed. Duna Trea was very angry with me."

"I remember." Malack pulled
a silk ribbon from a shelf and tied Branwyn's ankles to rings
attached to the floor. She stretched out, lying flat on the cold
stone. He attached ribbons to her wrists and bound them to another
ring. "It was not the fear of this, Branwyn. It was your pride." He
pushed some pillows under her hips then playfully, but firmly, he
smacked a buttock. Her flesh quivered.

Again, his hand made contact
with her flesh, but this time it was a caress. As he spoke, he
stroked her buttock, slid his hands up and down her inner thighs.
"You and your body are two things that appeal to me. Your flesh
entices me. I wish to stroke it, kiss it—lose myself in it. But
that is not only why I chose you. I want you. I want to protect
you. You are in my thoughts when I should be thinking about war. I
would watch you—dining in the great hall and would forget to eat. I
need you Branwyn. And am truly humbled by that."

He slipped his finger into
her pleasure hole. After several strokes, he slid his finger to her
clit, rubbed it then returned to stroking her.

Branwyn spoke softly. "When
we first met, I thought you were the handsomest man. If I saw you
in the castle, my heart would beat faster and heat rose within me.
I did not dream of my master. It is you—oh!"

He inserted two more fingers
and increased the pace of his stroking.

She had to force herself to
focus on what she wanted to say. The joy he created inside her made
it difficult to form coherent thoughts. "It is you I dream about.
It is you I want."

He stopped and untied the
ribbons. Lying spread out before him, Branwyn waited. He stroked
her leg. "It was not this you failed. You fought against the person
instructing you. He did not deserve to touch you. You should only
be pleasured by one who adores you and wishes to be consumed by
you." His mouth latched onto a breast and suckled it.

Lifting her from the floor,
he carried Branwyn to the strange chair and placed her in it. He
tied her wrists to the arms and placed her feet into straps. Her
weight was supported on her back and hips leaving her buttocks
exposed.

"Yes, please," she cried.
"Take me, like...like you took Sasha. Take command of my body.
Pleasure yourself like you are the gon-dra. I am not afraid of you.
I only wish to please you."

For a few moments Malack did
not move. "Sasha loves pain. We spent many nights here where her
flesh was red and blood dripped from her. Still, she still begged
for more."

Her eyes grew round. She
steadied her voice. "I trust you, Malack."

He kissed her, not with the
tender kiss she had become accustomed to, but a rough hungry one.
It seemed not to matter whether she responded. He did not caress
her or tenderly stroke the pink flesh of her breast. He grabbed
both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed.
Branwyn bit back the urge to stop him. The pain made her hot
between her legs.

His hand brushed her
buttocks then smacked her with a gentle force. It was not a tear
inducing pain, but a temperature rising pain. She felt hot, like
the summer sun was shining down on her naked body.

Without warning, his hand
cracked across her buttocks. Her yell was involuntary. It had
escaped her throat. He repeated his strike, then ran his hand over
where he had hit her. His caress removed the sting. He struck
again, and caressed her again. This was not the same as when Trea
instructed her. That had been a blinding fury of pain, which
overwhelmed her into darkness. This she could bear for
him.

"Like?" His hot breath
grazed her ear.

"Yes."

He spread her lower lips and
fondled her clit. He rubbed, licked, and sucked it. The heat
between her legs became unbearable. She squirmed against her
bonds.

He poured cool oil on her
pleasuring place while his other hand roughly spread it around. He
slipped his fingers into, but did not stroke her. Instead, he
pounded his hand against her. He showed her the large
manhood-shaped object she had used in Sasha, then pressed it into
her and pumped it back and forth.

Branwyn moaned.

Malack's arm
ached.

He pinched her nipple,
dropped the object and slipped his manhood out of his garments then
braced himself on the chair and entered her. His mouth found hers.
He forced his tongue into her mouth. Their kiss broke off with a
gasp from both.

He pounded with a force that
shook the chair. Her loud moans mixed with the slurping sounds
coming from her wet pleasure hole and the slapping noise of his
flesh against hers. "Surrender now," he commanded, sweating
dripping down his face. One last thrust.

He trembled as his seed left
his body. His knees buckled as his spasms slowed. He slipped out of
her then collapsed on the pillows.

After a moment's rest, he
stood, adjusted himself, picked up his sword and her gown, untied
her and carried her back to his chambers. He lay her beneath the
covers and kissed her forehead. It took all of his remaining
strength, but he walked around the bed, climbed in beside Branwyn
and pulled up his covers.

He crossed his arms behind
his head and rested on them. He was content. He had chosen a bride.
She would give him sons. The bloodline would continue. Black Dorn
was safe. He rolled onto his side, placed his arm across Branwyn's
waist and let sleep invade his body.

Chapter Seven

Malack was the first to
crawl out of the blackness that had engulfed him. He opened his
eyes, yawned and stretched. Every muscle in his body complained. He
had trained hard yesterday, but he had an even harder night.
Leaning over, he kissed her cheek and slipped out of bed. His
return woke her. She stretched and climbed out of the
bed.

She returned with two
goblets of ale and some biscuits and nestled next to him. "It was a
wonderful experience." She caressed his arm. "I enjoyed it. I was
afraid, but not of you. I was afraid I would not enjoy something
that pleases you."

"There is so much more I can
teach you."

"And I will be your willing
student." She placed both empty goblets on the floor.

It all began with a kiss.
They made love in the bed, in the bath, on the floor, in a chair,
front to front, back to front, her on top and him on top. She
pleasured him and he returned the favor. The morning turned to
afternoon, to evening, and to night. Duncan brought food and drink.
They ate, talked, rested and were driven to explore and release
each other. Sated and exhausted, they slept.

"Gon-Dra." The urgency in
Duncan's voice snapped Malack alert. "Uplands has been
taken."

Malack jumped out of bed and
dressed before Branwyn could comprehend his actions. She sat on the
bed watching while messengers informed Malack of what had happened.
He snapped orders to Duncan, who ran about fulfilling
them.

Still Branwyn sat. She tried
to make sense of Malack's movements as she folded the edge of the
blanket in her fingers. Why had he jumped out of their bed? Why was
he dressing? Why did he seem to be preparing to leave? No answer
was offered.

When he had dressed and
wolfed down a meal, he slid his sword in its scabbard and turned to
Branwyn. "I must go." He exited his room.

Leah brought clothes.
"Mistress, let me dress you, so you may watch the soldiers
leave."

Branwyn stood, quietly. She
did not speak. Leah poured water into a bowl and ran a towel about
Branwyn's body, sweetening its scent. She dressed her then tied her
hair in a simple braid. "Duncan said they will form in the
courtyard."

"Come. So you may say
good-bye to…Duncan." A sob slipped from Branwyn's lips as the
realization of what was happening formed in her brain.

She and Leah walked to the
courtyard, and curtsied to the gonness, then Branwyn stood beside
her. Leah stood with the other waiting-ladies.

"You are well?" The gonness'
voice betrayed her anxiety.

"I am well, but my heart is
heavy with fear."

"The Gon-Dra - Malack…" She
covered her mouth. "…my son." She paused, regained control of
herself and continued. "He is a strong warrior. He will lead his
men well and will get back what belongs to Black Dorn."

Soldiers, leading their
horses, wandered into the courtyard. There were wagons stationed
along the edges. Branwyn guessed they were whatever contained what
the soldiers needed to wage war. She glanced about the courtyard.
Daily life had stopped. Friends and family loitered about waiting
for their soldiers to leave for battle. The mood was
somber.

The gon joined them on a
small platform. The gonness and Branwyn dropped into a curtsey.
When Branwyn stood, the gon placed a hand on her shoulder. "Malack
will be here in a moment. He is a good soldier: strong, smart, a
skilled swordsman and an experienced archer. He will defend Black
Dorn with honor."

The clatter of horses'
hooves on cobblestones stopped him from speaking. The soldiers
positioned themselves in formation as Malack rode his dark brown
stallion into the courtyard. He did not wear his armor.

"Gon Lacke?" Branwyn
curtsied and waited.

He turned his head. "Yes,
Branwyn?"

"Why does Malack not wear
his armour?" She rose and looked into the gon's gaze. "He will not
go into battle dressed as he is."

A brief smile appeard on the
gon's mouth. "No, my child, The soldiers have many days of hard
travel ahead of them before they reached Uplands. Armor is heavy
and would wear down the horse too soon. Malack will be well amoured
before he leads his men into a fight."

The gon-dra reined his horse
to stop in front of the dais. He dismounted, tossed his reins over
his horse's neck then walked toward his father. He
bowed.

The gon looked at the
waiting soldiers then down at his son. "Gon-Dra, are you
ready?"

"My men and I are ready to
go to Uplands and take back our lands. I…" He glanced at Branwyn.
"I apologize for not training with my men yesterday and preparing
them for—"

The gon raised his hand.
"You…we…could not have known the news would be so bad. When one has
a distraction as beautiful as the one you have chosen…" His
sentence trailed off.

"I will not forget my tragor
to Black Dorn." Malack turned to his men. "Say goodbye to your
families. We mount soon."

He stepped onto the
dais.

The gon and gon-dra shook
hands, but familial bonds overcame them and they embraced. "Stay
well, my son."

The gonness did not give him
a moment to bow. She hugged him with the love and fear of a mother.
"Stay well. Bring back my youngest sons." She brushed his cheek.
"And my oldest."

He turned to Branwyn. Tears
filled her eyes. She tried not to let them escape, but they
trickled down her cheeks. He rested his forehead on hers. "I vow I
will return. I will take back what is ours, strike down the
traitors and return to be by your side."

Composure lost out to
panicked love. She hugged him and sobbed onto his shoulder.
"Please, do not go. I am afraid. Why do you have to go? Stay and
protect Black Dorn. Protect me."

She could feel the heat of
his breath as his lips neared her ear. "I am gon-dra, this is my
tragor. I must." Their kiss was wet from her tears.

She held him tighter. If she
did not let go, he could not leave.

He stepped back. The gonness
put her arm around Branwyn's waist and pulled her to her
side.

He started to leave,
returned, and dropped to one knee before her. "I have told you with
my body, but have never spoken the words. I love you, Branwyn. I
will return."

She saw confidence in his
eyes and heard firm belief in his words. She would hold onto that
until the moment she had him in her arms and body.

"Mount up!" He reined his
horse around then walked it to the head of the formation. Soldiers
scrambled to their beasts.

Branwyn caught a glimpse of
Duncan as he mounted a horse near one of the wagons. She turned her
head. Leah wiped her face on her sleeve.

Without another glance back
at Branwyn, Malack clicked his horse and led the way out of Black
Dorn and toward his fate.

As the sounds of the hooves
on cobblestones faded and the dust settled, people wandered off to
resume their daily routines. Leah led her mistress back to her
chamber.

"Rest now, Mistress. I will
have your bath readied for you." Leah pulled back the covers and
helped Branwyn settle into her bed. "Sleep, Mistress. Dream of the
gon-dra."

When she woke a warm bath
awaited her. Branwyn soaked, ate a small meal, then sat staring at
the empty hearth. In the background, Leah's soft sobs broke the
strained silence as she straightened the room.

"Leah." Branwyn stood next
to her waiting-lady. "You must be strong with me or I shall not be
able to face this. Malack said he would return. When he does, he
will bring Duncan. There is nothing for us, if we do not believe
this."