Black Dorn [submission/punishment/bondage] (5 page)

Duna Trea helped Branwyn
stand, whispered to her that she should go to bed and gently pushed
her toward the door. That was all the convincing Branwyn
needed.

As she hurried to her room,
she realized the burn on her buttocks had faded to a tingle. It was
a pleasant feeling. Malack's hands were big and strong. His strikes
caused discomfort, but his caress…a shiver scurried down her spine.
She paused before opening her chamber door. Maybe instruction was
not so bad.

Chapter Three

Leah pulled back the
curtains, allowing the brilliant morning sunshine to flood the
room. Branwyn moaned and rolled over, covering her face with the
blanket. "Dune Branwyn," Leah whispered. "Your bath is
ready."

"Must I? I would rather lie
about in bed all morning."

Leah giggled. "Yesterday was
a difficult day and you must be tired and sore. What you did took
courage. It impressed Gon-Dra Malack. He refused everyone else all
night. I think he likes you. He has not liked a woman in a long
time."

Branwyn dragged herself from
the bed, walked to the bath and dropped her shift. "What happened
to harden his heart so?"

Leah's eyebrows raised in
surprise at her dune's acceptance of the bath. She grabbed the
soap, dipped it into the warm water rubbed it around Branwyn's
body. "A wife had been chosen, but she refused him. Instead, she
left Black Dorn to be with his hated rival." Leah poured
warm-scented water over Branwyn’s back.

"How could anyone refuse
such a man? He is strong and powerful and will be gon." Branwyn let
her thoughts wander to Malack as her bath completed. She
half-dressed, remembering to leave her breasts exposed and walked
to Duna Trea’s room.

She paused a step inside the
training room. Malack’s back was to her.

"Trea, I have been away too
long. The mead of Black Dorn will be the death of me. My head
aches. I fear it will burst."

Trea motioned with her head
for Branwyn to hide as she escorted Malack to a mound of pillows.
"Sit. I will tend to you." After ringing a bell and telling the
servant what to do, the duna returned to Malack. She picked up his
hand and peeled off the blood-soaked napkin protecting Branwyn’s
bite mark. "A souvenir of last night’s conques…No, you bedded no
one." She examined the mark. "It is a bite from a tiny mouth. A
female bite. One who was being instructed and—"

Malack’s glare stopped her.
"Sometimes you go too far, woman."

Trea sat before him, placed
her hands on his temples and rubbed him in a small circular
pattern. "Close your eyes. Over time, we have developed a bond that
will only be passed by the one between you and your bride. I have
watched you watching her. I have seen what the effects of thinking
about her do to you."

"I am entranced, Trea. I can
sense when she is near. Her scent is in this room."

Branwyn nestled back behind
the tapestry.

"Yes, she is trained here."
The servant entered, knelt and offered the duna a large mug then
left. "Drink this."

He swallowed the contents,
leaned back, and sighed. "Her flesh was soft. Her sobs touched my
heart. I could lose myself in her body."

"I fear you must decide, is
she worth fighting a war over?"

"Arrgh!" Malack grabbed a
handful of pillows and threw them at the wall. Shoving Trea aside
he strode from the room.

"Good morning, Branwyn. Are
you rested?"

She entered and stood before
the duna. "Yes. Did you pass a restful night?"

Trea nodded. "I am pleased
you are obeying my command. Today we are working in another part of
the castle. Walk with your hands behind your back. Eyes
lowered."

Branwyn followed Duna Trea
through a confusing channel of hallways. "This is one of the dune
training rooms. There are six different rooms."

Branwyn stepped inside and
stifled a gasp. Chained to the wall was a naked man. His arms and
legs were spread. He was blindfolded.

Try as hard as she could,
Branwyn could not pull her gaze away from the sight of what was
between his legs. Her hand began to reach for it. Branwyn inhaled
and clasped her hands together.

"Today’s lesson. This is a
man."

Branwyn held back a chuckle
at the obviousness of Trea’s statement.

Trea grabbed his penis.
"This is his manhood. It is what he uses to pleasure women." She
flicked it with her finger. "It is now soft, but with a little
effort it becomes big and straight. Touch it."

I must not. It is wrong. You
must. That was your old life. Now you live in Black Dorn. You are a
dune. Tragor. Branwyn stroked it with the tip of one finger. It is
so smooth. She suppressed a giggle.

"Now wrap your fingers
around it like this." Slowly Branwyn obeyed Trea. "Yes, That's it.
Now slide your hand up and down. See how it responds and grows.
Feel it harden."

"It grows long and thick.
And look…the tip is peeking out of my hand."

"Yes, this is a very nice
one. It is what will be inserted into your pleasure
hole."

"I do not
understand."

"When a man pleasures a
woman he places this between her legs where her pleasure hole is.
He slams himself into the woman until he reaches his moment and
this begins to shoot out his seed." Trea touched Branwyn’s arm. "He
is nearing his moment. Stop your hand. Wait a few moments, and see
how it returns to being small and soft."

"May I ask a
question?"

"Yes."

"Is that what Gon-Dra Malack
did to you the other day?"

"Yes, but I sat upon him and
inserted him into me. It can be done in reverse where the woman
pleasures the man."

"But he did not slam into
you. Oh, it is going soft."

"You will learn special
moves where you cause the pleasure to the man and make him release
his seed. That is what I did." Trea checked that snugness of the
man's blindfold. "Stroke him back to hard. Reach under here. This
is where the seed is. Stroke them."

Branwyn ran her fingertips
across his seeds sacs. They were softer than his manhood. As she
brought the chained man to full erection for the third time, she
was fascinated at how strenuous this task was. She felt flushed and
uncomfortably hot between her legs.

"See how he moans and his
body is covered in sweat. You have learned quickly. Continue, but
change the speed and tightness of your grip. Stroke his seed sacs.
Stop." Trea placed her hand on Branwyn's arm. "Feel the wetness on
the tip. He is near his release. Faster, Branwyn."

The man bucked his cock into
Branwyn’s hand. His back arched and a warm fluid shot out of him
and sprayed Branwyn’s breasts. "Do not stop," demanded Trea.
"Continue milking him like a cow. Release him of everything. Good
girl. You may let go. No, do not wipe yourself. Smell his seed.
Wipe some on your finger and taste it. It won’t harm
you."

Her hand trembled as she
raised a finger to her mouth. She tested it with the tip of her
tongue. It tasted salty.

"Now, settle yourself on
those pillows. Hands at your sides."

As Branwyn sat, another man
entered and knelt next to her. Trea pulled up Branwyn’s skirts and
placed several pillows under her hips. "Your next lesson’s about
allowing yourself to be touched. Will you obey or must I tie you in
place?" She held up a handful of ribbons that had been on one of
the pillows.

Cold chills raced through
Branwyn's body. She took two deep breathes to calm herself before
speaking. "Tragor, Duna Trea."

"Very good, Branwyn." To the
kneeling man she spoke, "You performed well yesterday, and this is
your reward. Arouse her, touch, stroke or kiss her. Do not enter
her. If she does not moan then you may not release."

The man did not speak, but
moved closer to Branwyn. She tried to lie still, but her body
trembled. Trea stood beside her and looked down. "This will be
pleasurable, Branwyn. Your body will burn like it is on fire.
You’ll beg for more."

Branwyn's pulse raced as his
hand neared her breast. She reminded herself of tragor. This is her
duty. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying that he would somehow
disappear. His fingers rippled across her nipple. "No.
Stop."

"Tragor, Dune." Trea grabbed
her wrists, wrapped a silken rope around them and tied her to a
metal loop in the floor. Slipping another rope around each ankle,
she secured them to rings embedded in the wood.

The man slid his fingers
along the fullness of her breast and pinched a nipple. In the depth
of Branwyn's belly nausea began to rise. A cold clamminess covered
her body.

"No. No. No." She tried to
flail her arms and kick her feet, but her ties held fast. "Don't
touch me." Malack! Would he help her? Her scream was so violent the
man jerked his hand away from her breast.

Trea stood next to her and
held a long stick in her hand. "Tragor. Why must I repeat myself?"
She held out the stick. "Do not fail." She pointed at the man.
"Continue."

Branwyn whimpered and
waited, for what she did not know.

He lowered his mouth to her
nipple. His lips squeezed against her flesh as his tongue flicked
at her.

She gagged and forced
herself not to throw up. "Malack!" Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Why did he not come to rescue her? "No. Stop. Stop."

Trea loosened a tie, roughly
rolled her onto her belly. A jolt of pain surged through Branwyn's
buttocks. And again. Trea stopped. "Branwyn. move again and I will
instruct you mercilessly. Tragor."

She fought against her ties.
Her arms ached from the strain. "I will not. This is wrong. I hate
you!"

"Remove yourself." The duna
yelled at the man. He scurried from the room. Trea turned. "Now,
you." She tapped Branwyn with her crop. "I am disappointed. I
thought you finally understood tragor. This is used to break horses
and insolent dunes. This is going to hurt. Your flesh will burn and
tears will stream down your cheeks. Begging will only get you more
punishment. Submitting will not lessen the number of strokes but it
will not add any more. I have not the strength of a man, but I will
not be weak in my instruction of you."

Shaking and sobbing, Branwyn
clenched her eyes and waited. The crop cracked on her buttocks time
and again. Screams escaped from Branwyn’s lips. "Mercy, please Duna
Trea. I beg you. Mercy." Between her screams, darkness filled
Branwyn’s head.

Trea exited.

Leah entered and knelt next
to Branwyn. A noise made her look up. The gon-dra walked across the
room. With a gentle touch, Leah applied a soothing paste of herbs
and oils.

Malack loosened the ties
binding her to the floor, lifted and carried her to her bed. For a
moment, he stared down at Branwyn then turned and left the room
without speaking.

Leah placed a mug of warm
wine and a piece of fresh bread next to the bed. The scents woke
Branwyn. "Drink this, dune, and eat. I have put oils on you that’ll
make the pain go away and there are herbs in the wine to make you
feel better."

Tears trickled down
Branwyn’s cheeks. "I failed today. I angered Duna Trea."

"I have heard you can sing
and play the spinet. Possibly you might entertain the gon after
dinner?"

"Oh, Leah, what a wonderful
idea. Would I be allowed?"

"Lay there and rest while I
inquire."

Branwyn dozed until Leah ran
in exitedly. "Dune, it is done. You may play and sing in the
quarters of the gon. There will be many people there, including the
gon-dra. We must hurry and dress you, weave ribbons into your hair
and drape jewels over your breasts."

Two hours later, Leah and a
guard escorted Branwyn to the gon’s main chambers. "I may not
enter," whispered Leah. "But I will wait out here and listen from
here."

Her body trembled as she
entered, crossed over to the spinet piano and waited. A distant
voice commanded her to play. Looking at the hard stool, she
hesitated. Settling herself on it, she stifled a cry, rested her
fingers on the keys and played a lullaby she had learned as a
child. Some of the people listened. Others continued to talk. With
brief glances between songs, Branwyn was unable to find Malack.
With such a commanding presence, she assumed he would not be
difficult to find, even in a crowded room.

Duna Trea appeared beside
the spinet. "Come with me." Without question, Branwyn stood and
followed with her head lowered and her hands behind her back. Trea
stopped in front of the gon. Branwyn dropped to her knees. "Ah,
Duna Trea. I see the young one is learning."

"She was instructed
today."

"Let us see." The gon turned
his head and looked at a far back corner. "Malack, come. The new
dune was instructed. Let us see the marks left on that beautiful
white skin." Malack rose, walked forward and stood next to his
father.

Trea whispered to Branwyn to
stand and turn around. Her skirts were thrown over her
head.