Black Dorn [submission/punishment/bondage] (4 page)

Branwyn sighed and rubbed
her face. "I do not even know where to begin. I understand nothing.
I feel like a lost soul wandering blind in a fog. You ask me to
bare myself. You serve a man who is not your husband. I…I…do not
understand." Branwyn held back tears of confusion and shame. She
wanted to be strong when with Trea.

"The beliefs of our two
lands differ. A man possesses his dune. She is part of his
property, like his land, his wealth, his cattle and his bitches.
She must serve her master in all that he commands, and never
question or falter when obeying." Trea reached over, pulled a rose
blossom close and inhaled its fragrance.

She continued, "If your
master demands you remove your clothes you must proudly do so,
immediately. Your obedience will show other men the power your
master holds over you. Your beauty will make them envious of his
possession and he will be held in high esteem of everyone. Power is
important. If a man appears weak, he will be killed, and his lands
taken away. Or worse, the man will be subjugated."

"Subjugated?"

"Imagine Malack conquered
and being forced to work as Duncan does, to serve another. Forced
to only enjoy self-pleasuring."

Before Branwyn could ask for
an explanation, voices alerted them. Duna Trea turned to Branwyn.
"You know what my command will be. Remove your upper clothes. Allow
these people to see you naked. They will not touch you. You do not
need to be afraid of them. Do so now, before they come."

Branwyn tried, but her
fingers fumbled. She watched as three men and two women strolled
toward her. She prayed they would turn and follow another path.
They smiled at Duna Trea and walked forward.

Branwyn fought the stubborn
knot, but her vision filled with blinding tears.

Duna Trea curtsied to the
group and asked them about their health.

Still Branwyn could not
release the ties.

"This is our newest dune.
Her name is Branwyn." Trea stood beside her. In a deep whisper she
said, "Tragor!"

The ties released and
Branwyn peeled the shield that protected her nakedness. A cold
chill shuddered through her, causing her to tremble and her nipples
to harden. She wished the earth would rip open and let her fall
into its dark depths.

The group continued on their
stroll and conversation.

Trea did not look at
Branwyn. "Go, prepare for supper, but do not cover yourself. You
have failed tragor. You will not be allowed to cover your breasts
for three days." Duna Trea turned and walked away, leaving a
half-naked and ashamed Branwyn to find her way back to her
room.

Leah remained silent as she
combed Branwyn’s hair and laced ribbons in among the strands. She
tied it so it rested on her dune’s smooth white back. Selecting a
gold-colored dress, she helped Branwyn slip into it. She lowered
the top and tucked it in at the waist then secured the skirt with
an embossed leather belt. Lastly, Leah draped jewels around her
dune's neck that encircled her breasts drawing the gaze toward the
splendor of the gems - both stone and flesh.

Leah escorted Branwyn to the
dining hall entrance. "Remember, do not speak unless spoken
to."

The guard held open the
door. As she entered, a herald bellowed, "Dune Branwyn."

The members of the court
turned and watched her enter. The grand hall was full. Male,
female, noble and servant, and all focused on her. Heart pounding
as if it would burst, Branwyn forced herself to enter, curtsey,
then paused waiting for a cue. A footman next to her whispered,
"This way." He led her to a group of women who introduced
themselves as other dunes.

To Branwyn’s relief, few
were fully clothed. She was ashamed at her nakedness, but felt a
bit less alone. The conversations paused every time new arrivals
were announced. Branwyn’s new friends quickly offered a bit of
gossip or scandal about whoever had just entered. A tall man
dressed in fine grey robes entered with a woman who moved with the
waddle of one late in a pregnancy.

"The bulge in her stomach
does not come from the seed of her husband. I hear they haven’t
bedded in many months." The dune called Radella
chuckled.

"One must not bed when with
child," gasped the dune with brilliant blue eyes.

Radella’s eyes sparkled with
gossipy glee. "But one must bed to make a child. I hear that Malack
will soon be a father."

"Again." A dark-skinned dune
with eyes the color of a chestnut mare giggled.

"Again." The blonde called
Tess smiled.

"May I ask a question or
would that be wrong?" Branwyn was not sure if she was breaking the
spoken to rule.

A ripple of laughter erupted
from the dunes. "Those rules do not apply when we are together. We
are equals. Of course you may speak." Clovis gave Branwyn an
encouraging smile.

Branwyn pointed at all the
different, but beautiful dunes. "Are we all from lands far away? We
speak the same language but we are not alike. Clovis, your hair is
the color of fire and your skin—"

A forceful blast from the
trumpets ended conversations as the guests were invited to sit. The
heralds announced the arrival of the gon and his wife, the
gonness.

The gon, once a strong
warrior, now walked stiffly and with a limp. His black beard and
hair were both streaked with grey. The deep maroon of his robes was
decorated with gold trim and a broad gold belt. His wife was fair
skinned and her hair was the color of wheat in the fall. She wore a
dress of dark blue velvet trimmed with gold and lace, which seemed
to drip rubies.

When the royal couple
reached their chairs, they bowed their heads to the guests, then
sat as everyone applauded. As the guests settled, Branwyn glanced
around the room. Several women were as naked as she and some even
more. They proudly sat next to their husbands, heads held high with
bodies exposed to all.

The doors flung open, but
there was no fanfare as Gon-Dra Malack strode in the room. He
walked to the center of the room and faced his parents. "Gon
Lacke." Malack lowered his head and bowed. "I bring Black Dorn
conquests from battles."

Young boys and men struggled
carrying the loads of furs, skins, caskets of wine and jugs of mead
and ale. Soldiers led in chained men and women, who knelt before
the gon and offered their promise of loyalty and fidelity to him
and Black Dorn.

Gon Lacke stood. "My son,
Malack, has returned, victorious in battle. He brings wealth, new
lands and new people for me to govern. All honor
Malack!"

A cheer rose from the seated
guests. Malack turned and bowed. His gaze rested on Branwyn. A
glance down confirmed what she sensed. Her nipples jutted out, full
and erect. She felt flushed. Placing a hand on her cheek, she could
feel the heat. I burn with shame at the Gon-Dra seeing me so.
Clenching her fists, she took a deep breath and raised her head. No
longer staring at her, Malack sat next to his father.

The servants raced in with
food and wine, filling plates and glasses. While the guests dined,
jugglers and musicians entertained. Laughter and conversation
filled the hall.

Branwyn tried to ignore the
intense eyes that kept staring at her during the meal. Even when
she wasn’t looking in Malack's direction, she sensed he watched
her. She fought every urge to cover her breasts. Although shame
filled her at being exposed before him, Branwyn refused to
disappoint her duna.

A tall, dark-haired woman
walked to the center of the hall.

"That is Duna Reelan,"
Clovis whispered to Branwyn.

"There is another
Duna?"

"There are four. Duna Trea,
Duna Reelan, Duna Cha—"

A herald announced, "Dune
Elaya, come forthwith."

A petite, black haired woman
rose from a table behind Branwyn's. With small steps she crossed
the room, knelt before Dune Reelan then bowed her head. A servant
brought a blindfold, secured it around Elaya’s head, and removed
the dune’s clothing. Branwyn dropped her eyes and controlled the
fear that began to boil inside her.

"What do you desire?" Duna
Reelan asked.

"What my master wants me to
desire," Elaya replied.

"What does your master
desire for you?"

"Tragor."

Duna Reelan looked toward
the gon, who motioned to his son. A hush fell upon everyone as all
eyes watched Malack rise and walk to the kneeling, naked dune. He
knelt down on one knee, and slipped a hand between her legs.
Branwyn did not understand what he did, but the effect it had on
the dune, was obvious. She moaned and jerked her hips as he moved
his hand.

"You may not surrender."
Malack said.

Her moans built to cries as
she collapsed forward, weight resting on her hands and knees.
Malack adjusted his position and continued.

"May I
surrender?"

"No." Malack did not change
the pace of his movements.

Branwyn raised her hand and
rested it above the swell of her breasts. She was breathing almost
as hard as the dune.

No one around her
spoke.

"Please, may I surrender?"
Elaya begged.

"No."

The dune's arms buckled and
she collapsed. Malack's bare handed blow to her ass echoed
throughout the hall. Her body trembling, she struggled to push
herself back onto her hands and knees.

Branwyn sat erect on the
edge of her chair. She wiped a trickle of sweat from her
forehead.

"May…I please—"

Malack smacked the dune's
buttock again. A hand shaped red mark appeared.

Her cries mixed with sobs
and screams as she fought to remain upright.

"Now."

The scream signaling the
dune's release startled Branwyn. She yelled and fell back on to her
chair. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her breath.

Malack stood and returned to
his seat. He picked up his wine goblet and gulped the
contents.

Duna Reelan smiled at her
submissive student, who knelt next to her. "Dune Elaya leaves us
tonight. In two days time, she shall become a Duna as she begins to
serve her master. Pleasure him well. Tragor." Reelan removed the
girl's blindfold and indicated permission to leave.

Duna Trea walked to center
of the room, curtsied to the Gon, and announced, "Gon, we have a
new dune." She turned, found Branwyn, and pointed the spot next to
her.

Branwyn rose as if by magic.
She was too scared to move, but she found herself floating toward
Trea and kneeling next to her.

"Gon, may I present Dune
Branwyn."

The Gon scrutinized her.
"Wonderful piece. Such firm breasts. Such red lips. But I hear she
does not serve well yet."

Branwyn lowered her
eyes.

"Bring her serving girl."
Trea snapped her fingers.

Leah entered and knelt next
to Duna Trea.

The gon placed his wine
goblet on the table. "Your dune does not obey. Explain."

Leah kept her eyes lowered.
"She is new and from another land and is only beginning to
understand." Branwyn sensed a timbre of terror in her
voice.

"Instruction is required."
The gon looked toward his son. "Don't you agree Malack?." Malack
stood and walked to Leah. She bent over as he threw her skirts over
her head.

Branwyn bit her bottom lip
and the gon raised his hand to stay Malack's action. "What is it
you desire to say, dune?"

"Do not instruct Leah. I
erred. Instruct me." The words burst from her lips.

A grin crossed Malack’s
lips.

As he pulled down Leah’s
skirts, she turned to him and knelt. He hitched his head,
indicating she should leave then turned to Branwyn.

"He has little patience,"
whispered Duna Trea. "What you are doing is good. But be quick
about it." She pushed Branwyn forward.

A chair was placed before
Branwyn. She leaned over the back and rested her hands on the seat.
In a moment, her skirts were over her head, covering her face, and
blinding her. All sounds were muffled.

A warm hand stroked her
buttocks. She waited for the first strike. When it came, she was
unable to stifle a large gasp. Three more strikes followed before
there was a hesitation. She knew her sobs could be heard, but she
did not care, the humiliation was more than she had ever
experienced.

Relief came as his hand
caressed where he had struck. His other hand slipped through her
skirts and the side of it pressed against her mouth. Understanding,
she bit down as the flurry of strikes began. She released her grip
when a soft brush of his hand trickled across her cheeks. For a
moment, the burn of pain faded to a joyous tingle. A strange, but
enjoyable, flutter in her belly faded when Malack lowered her
skirts.

Branwyn dropped to her knees
and lowered her head. With a flick of his hand, Malack told her to
leave. He returned to his place, gulped the contents of his mug and
demanded more. He wiped his napkin across his mouth then discreetly
bound the bleeding wound on his hand.