Black Dorn [submission/punishment/bondage] (10 page)

Read Black Dorn [submission/punishment/bondage] Online

Authors: Daryl Devore

Tags: #erotica, #love, #erotic romance, #bdsm, #submission, #hea, #bondage, #cunnilingus, #fellatio, #explicit sex, #public nudity

His mother stood beside her
husband. "You have chosen."

"I have chosen
Branwyn"

A soldier stepped into the
room. "Gon, a messenger from Uplands urgently wishes to speak with
you."

Malack hopped out of bed,
tossed his tunic to Branwyn, and dressed. Hurrying to his father's
court, he passed Duna Trea. He turned. "Branwyn is no longer is as
she was. She is mine." Trea opened her mouth to speak. Malack
raised his hand. "No Trea, she is mine."

Trea nodded her head. "I
will deal with her master."

He continued down the
hall.

 

 

Branwyn remained seated on
the bed. She looked about the room wishing someone would tell her
what she should do. Malack's mother pointed to a closet. "Go.
Relieve yourself then we will eat and talk. Duncan, bring
food."

Malack's mother sat in the
chair he had occupied last night. Branwyn was about to drop to her
knees when she was stopped by a hand. "No longer will you kneel. As
you are to be married to Malack, you will curtsey to those of
higher rank, Malack, myself and the gon."

"Yes…I do not know what to
call you. I do not know your title."

"I am the Gonness of Black
Dorn. That is what you address me as when we are in court. My name
is Eva. Like you, I did not come from this land, but I have learned
to love it and its men. The men of Black Dorn are strong and their
women love them."

Duncan placed breakfast on
the table. The gonness sipped some wine then reached for a pear.
"My son chose you. Have you chosen him?"

"Yes, Gonness."

"I assumed he would accept
one of the higher-ranking ladies of the court and possess a couple
of dunes with which to pleasure himself."

"I still do not understand
what I was training to be. I was too afraid to ask Duna Trea." She
lowered her head to hide her embarrassment.

"A noble woman is trained to
open herself when she is ripe, so she may give her husband many
sons. A gon-dra has many needs and hungers. His dunes would
pleasure him and release those hungers." She smiled at Branwyn.
"But you are not to be his dune. You will be his wife, Gonness-Dra
Branwyn. As such, you must have a gown made for your presentation
this evening and a new girl to serve you."

Branwyn bit her lip. "May I
not keep Leah? She has served me well."

"She is not trained to be a
waiting-lady." The gonness saw the sad look cross Branwyn's face.
"Duncan, bring Branwyn's serving girl here."

When presented to the
gonness, Leah dropped to her knees and tried not to
tremble.

"The gon-dra has chosen his
bride. You no longer serve a dune."

Leah started to raise her
head to look at Branwyn, but fear stopped her.

"Branwyn has asked that you
be trained to serve a gonness-dra."

Leah clapped her hand over
her mouth, stifling a loud squeal. She trembled with excitement,
but managed to keep her head lowered.

"Today there is much to do.
First, you must pack and move Branwyn's things to her new chamber.
I will send some of my waiting-ladies to help you. She must be
bathed and dressed in a most noble style for her presentation to
the court."

"Yes Gonness."

"You have served Branwyn
well. Your family will be rewarded with a new bow and quiver and a
cow. You may leave."

"Thank-you Gonness, Dune…uh,
Mistress." Leah scurried from the room.

The gonness turned her head.
"Duncan, do the men still speak?"

"Yes, Gonness."

"Eat Branwyn. I am certain
you must be faint with hunger. Malack's a healthy man. His bedding
must be most vigorous."

Branwyn picked out an apple
and some biscuits and ate quietly. She wanted to talk, but she felt
overwhelmed.

"I know nothing about you.
Do you have parents?" The gonness's head tilted to the
side.

Branwyn shook her
head.

"How sad." She patted
Branwyn's arm. "Do you know about Malack's past?"

Branwyn swallowed her bite
of biscuit. "I know a wife was chosen, she rejected him and left
with his most hated rival."

"Timous." The gonness raised
her hand to mouth and turned her head.

Who is this Timous? Why does
it sadden the gonness to speak of him? "The one who gave him the
scar on his cheek?"

"Yes, they were…close as
children." The gonness stared at her hands as she spoke. "After the
one who rejected left, Malack swore he would choose his own bride.
He bedded many and rejected all."

A tingle of pride and joy
scurried through Branwyn. "How did you know I had been
chosen?"

"Never once did Malack bed a
woman in his chambers. Duncan, who it seems spent the night keeping
Duna Trea from finding you, informed us this morning of what had
occurred."

Both ate in silence. Branwyn
desperately tried to process parts of her past twenty-four hours.
No longer a dune, she would instead be wedded to Malack and become
gonness-dra. Blushing, she remembered her incredible night with
Malack and their pleasures…

"Blue?"

"Pardon?" She stammered,
blinking her eyes as her daydream faded from her memory.

"A blue like his eyes." The
gonness smiled. "With silver threads. A simple gown, but one to
enhance your beauty. Do you like birds?"

Branwyn nodded and brushed
her hair back off her face.

"With birds embroidered
across the skirt. My seamstresses will be very busy today." Branwyn
dropped into a low curtsey as Malack's mother stood and
left.

She chose a pear from the
bowl of fruit then walked to the window and stared out an expanse
of green that led to a blue lake. The beauty of the view fascinated
her.

His hands felt warm as they
encircled her waist. She jumped and giggled. His breath was hot as
his lips pressed a kiss on her neck. "Were I able to spend the day
here…" He sighed and stepped back. "But the gon-dra has duties. An
outlying castle may need help. I must spend my day training with my
men and arranging preparations if we must leave." His lips neared
her ear. "I can think of many better ways to spend my
day."

He turned, undressed and
dressed in heavier clothes, covered with leather. Duncan handed his
sword to him. "Tonight, when I present you to court, address me as
Gon-Dra, but kneel to no one. Curtsey to me and the
gon."

"The gonness is having a new
gown made for me for this evening."

His gaze roamed her body.
His tunic did not conceal much. "I find nothing wrong with what you
are wearing." He leaned closer, kissed her and left.

A guard entered and
announced. "I am to take you to your new bedchambers." She paused a
moment, then followed. The old Branwyn would have been humiliated
walking the halls of Black Dorn dressed only in a man's tunic.
Branwyn was proud. It was Malack's tunic. He had chosen
her.

She stepped into her new
bedchamber. It was larger and brighter than her old room. Although
not as richly decorated as Malack's, it was still warm and
comfortable. A large bed sat across from the hearth. To the side
was a table with cushioned chairs. Leah seemed to be unable to
speak. She giggled every time she showed her mistress something
new.

"There is a closet for
relieving oneself." Leah pointed to a door then turned and opened a
different one. "I have my own bed chamber and will no longer have
to sleep in the serving girl's chamber."

Branwyn walked about her
room touching the decorations. Tapestries beautifully embroidered
with scenes of a summer garden hung on her walls. A silver comb and
brush rested on a table encrusted with beautiful stones.

"Mistress
Branwyn."

She turned to see who
spoke.

A waiting-lady stood, eyes
cast downward. "The seamstresses are here."

"No." Leah took charge of
her mistress. "She must be cleansed. She was bedded by the
gon-dra." Everyone lowered their heads as they backed out of the
room. Leah giggled at her moment of power. "Your bath is ready. You
have a separate room for it. I fear I will get lost in so many
rooms."

Settled in a rose-scented
bath, Branwyn relaxed while Leah bathed her and washed her hair.
When Branwyn was dressed in a simple shift, Leah allowed the others
to enter.

The oldest seamstress spoke
to Leah as she passed her, "You will make a good
waiting-lady."

Leah beamed.

The ministrations of the
seamstresses dazed Branwyn. They talked and argued, and draped her
in many different cloths. Finally, a blue was chosen and the
seamstresses left to create a gown fit for the gonness-dra- to
be.

She spent part of her
afternoon, learning to do a proper court curtsey and the basics of
court etiquette. As Leah wove silver ribbons Branwyn's hair, her
gown arrived. Settling it over her body, Leah smoothed the fabric
against Branwyn's curves. Glittering thread decorated the sleeves
and two birds floated across the skirt.

Leah rubbed fragrant oil
over her neck and between her breasts. It smelled like a rose
garden.

Malack entered. He was no
longer dressed in his military training clothes, but wore a deep
blue velvet tunic also decorated with silver. The ends of his hair
were still damp, holding his curls a bit tighter. The handle of his
sword gleamed as if Duncan had spent a day polishing it. "Gon-Dra."
She dropped into her newly learned court curtsey.

He took her hand and helped
her stand. "Do that again, and I will instruct you."

"Yes, Gon-Dra." Smiling, she
curtsied again.

He reached behind and
grabbed a handful of her bottom. "I remember it was pleasant
instructing you. But that joy must be saved for later."

Malack opened the door then
led the way to the great hall. Branwyn heard the multitude of
voices of those who had arrived before them. Two guards snapped to
attention and swung open both of the doors. Trumpets loudly
heralded their arrival. Aware they were the center of attention,
Branwyn kept her focus on Malack. He turned to face the gon and
respectfully bowed his head. Branwyn dropped into a curtsey and
held it. "Gon, I have chosen my bride." He held out his hand.
Branwyn reached for it and stood.

The gon and gonness raised
their goblets. "To the Gon-Dra and Branwyn." The hall stood and
cheered. He led Branwyn to a seat next to his, which was to the
right of his father. Branwyn sat on a chair with a thick cushion
and a small stool to rest her feet. The back of her chair was tall
and padded for comfort.

The servants brought in the
meal. As a dune, Branwyn had not eaten the same foods that had been
placed on the gon's table. Her mouth watered at the sights and
smells of what was presented. She marveled at how crisp and clear
her wine tasted. Probably because now, she drank from a golden
goblet.

She tasted many new foods
and drank different wines and ale. The entertainers juggled and did
magic tricks for everyone's enjoyment. Branwyn did not speak, but
listened as Malack explained things to her or had political
discussions with his father. She tried to hide a yawn.

Malack leaned over. "Do not
fall asleep. I remember I am to instruct you this
evening."

"The food and wine, I fear,
have made me sleepy."

"Then we will leave." He
spoke to his father, rose and escorted Branwyn from the
room.

Outside, in the quiet of the
passageway, Branwyn asked, "May we go to the training room? I would
like to…to right an earlier failure."

Malack kissed her forehead.
"One must fail if one is to learn."

She placed a hand on both
his cheeks, and stared into his eyes. "I need to do this. I need to
know that I can pleasure you."

Malack's brow
crinkled.

"There are many ways to
pleasure in Black Dorn. Many of them I have not learned. I do not
wish to displease you and have you pleasuring yourself with a dune.
Your mother said she expected you to take a noble lady and a dune.
The lady to bear your sons. The dune to pleasure you."

Malack walked to a window
and turned to face her. Moonlight streamed in, illuminating them.
"Branwyn, I have chosen you. I do not want a dune."

"But when I am heavy with
child and cannot pleasure you, I fear you releasing with
someone…more skilled than I." She lowered her eyes.

"Your head is clouded with
the day. And possibly the wine. This is my answer to your fears."
He pulled her close, wrapped her in a strong embrace and kissed
her. "Now let us continue. I suspect I might enjoy helping you
correct a failure."

Malack opened the door to
the dune training room then used a light from the hall to ignite a
couple of the torches. When he turned, Branwyn had removed her
clothing and was kneeling on the floor, arms stretched out before
her, forehead resting on the floor. He placed his sword beside her
carefully folded gown and waited.

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