The Barbarian's Pet (10 page)

“This will sting,” he said. “But no more than you deserve for putting yourself in peril. Lie down on your stomach, reach back and spread your cheeks for me, Sariah.”

He released her, allowing her to take up the position. She wished he had not. It was easier to submit when she was forced to. Griffen’s demand made her blush under his hard gaze. She squirmed on the bed, not quite disobeying him, but not obeying him either as her whole body began to tingle with shameful excitement.

“Face down, Sariah, bottom up, cheeks spread,” he repeated the order in clipped tones. The usual warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced with hard command. She fancied she now knew what it was like to be a warrior called before his displeased king. Griffen’s regal bearing was all the more evident now with his arms folded across his broad chest, the ginger tail held firmly between thumb and forefinger. It looked small in his hand, but she knew it would not feel small in her bottom.

The moment drew out as she realized that there was no choice but to obey. Slowly, Sariah turned over onto her stomach and put her hands back to cup her cheeks. It was almost too much to spread them and allow him to see her anus, but she did it.

“Good,” Griffen praised. “You see, you are capable of obedience. The question is, are you only capable when I am standing over you with lash in hand?”

A thin drizzle of oil landing in the crevice of her cheeks distracted her from the answer she’d liked to have given. His fingers came next, massaging the lubricant between her cheeks and against the little bud of her anal opening.

Sariah’s hands left her bottom to grasp at the furs. Griffen let the slip in obedience pass unremarked upon as the pad of his thumb rubbed at her bottom hole, pressing against the tight little aperture gently to ease it open enough for his digit to slide in.

She gasped, surprised as ever by how it felt to have her rear taken by the king. His thumb slid into her bottom, the oil and the heat of her rear making for a smooth entry that was not at all painful. His other fingers drifted over the lips of her mound, gently stroking her with a touch that was both arousing and soothing. Even though he was punishing her, Griffen’s tenderness was obvious.

Just when Sariah was thinking he was going to do nothing but pleasure her bottom, he began pressing the root plug into her rear. At first the small nub felt fairly innocuous, but the deeper it went, the more she was aware of a slow heat beginning to spread inside her bottom.

She let out a little whine and squirmed, but that only made the heat spike higher. Her anus spread for the plug, which grew wider and wider as he pressed it deeper, until finally it slid into position, the flared base keeping the leather strips of the tail outside her body, the ginger inside.

Hotter and hotter the sensation grew, the ginger working its dark magic inside her tight ass, heating her sensitive insides with a sting that became more intense for every moment it stayed in place. Sariah whimpered, but Griffen kept his hand in place, making it impossible for her to push the plug out.

“Settle, pet,” he growled in her ear. “This heat is nothing compared to what it will feel like when my lash heats your rear.”

“Please, Griffen, have mercy.”

“Have mercy on a pet who runs away and almost gets herself killed?” He growled the words in her ear, his lips brushing her lobe. “Who is completely unrepentant for her misbehavior, and throws my kindnesses in my face? I do not think so, Sariah. You do not appreciate kindness yet. You will when I am done with you.”

He slapped her bottom hard, taking hold of a thick handful of hair at the base of her head and using the grasp to keep her still as he plundered her rear with the tail, playing with her poor stinging sphincter. She was pinned there on the bed, her legs spreading, every part of her senses locked on what was happening to her poor bottom so much that she did not notice how wet she was becoming.

Just when Sariah thought she could not take anymore, the heat rising to a prickling tingling crescendo, Griffen thrust his cock inside her tight cunt and began fucking her with hard, fast strokes. The tail bounced in her bottom, her arched ass spread and splayed for him as he took her with the full fury of his passion, thick flesh spreading her tight cunt over and over again until she wailed at the top of her lungs.

It was a thoroughly merciless fucking, a punishment that made both her holes burn and ache and yet somehow beg for more. She could not speak, all she could do was writhe and wail under an erotic barrage of rough pleasure that made her cunt clench tighter than it ever had before. As hard as he fucked her, her body took every stroke eagerly, her wetness growing in response to his unyielding discipline.

Before either of them reached satisfaction, he reached down and flipped her onto her back, her sore ass and tail pressed against the furs. “Are you learning your lesson, pet? Answer me!”

Sariah looked into the regal lines of his face, his eyes burning with ardor, his cock hard inside her cunt—and the spirit of rebellion rushed through her. Before he could ask her again, she answered with an action that spoke louder than any words ever could have.

With ass and pussy spread around his cock and the tail, she reached up and slapped him with the full force of her strength, her palm making contact with the hard slab of his cheek. The crack of skin on skin rang out more clearly than any of the swats she had received.

Griffen’s golden eyes narrowed, his brows rising in momentary disbelief. When he spoke, it was in a deep, dangerous purr.

“That was a mistake, pet.”

He pulled his cock out of her clenching cunt, took up a thick roll of rope and shook it out. She knew what was coming the moment she saw the rope, but it made no difference as he began binding her struggling frame. She tried to resist him as best she could, but Griffen knew precisely what he was doing and somehow managed to turn every squirming wriggle to his advantage as the rope wrapped around her tender skin, its roughness rasping over delicate places.

It snaked between her breasts, wrapped around her waist, returned to her ankles, spreading her legs wide so that there was no hiding the true state of her arousal. The rope became a web in which she was trapped, its two ends extending between heavy iron tent pegs driven into the ground to ensure she could not close her legs. Griffen finished binding her with swift, practiced hands, rendering her entirely helpless in a matter of minutes.

“The rope intensifies your beauty,” he said, standing over her. “Your eyes flash with passion, your breasts strain, your cunt quivers. There is not a part of you that does not respond to me, Sariah. How long will you deny this?”

“As long as I draw breath,” she replied defiantly.

“You cannot convince yourself of your words,” Griffen mocked gently. “How do you think you will convince me?”

Sariah was near spitting with fury, a trapped wildcat unable to lash out, but no less furious for that fact.

“Your anger is misdirected,” Griffen told her. “You are not angry at me for doing this to you. You are angry at yourself because of how much you crave it.”

“Never!”

He laughed at her defiance. “I can prove this to you a thousand ways, Sariah. There is no escaping the truth. Now, how shall I punish a pet who believes hitting me is an option?” He asked the question while running his fingers over the mound of her pussy, stroking wet fluids over swollen flesh. She felt tremors of excitement running through her as he lifted his hand and began to swat her across her lower lips. The intimate punishment made her clit pulse, his hand making her lower lips flower with heat and moisture.

“Do you yield, Sariah? Do you admit that you could never belong to another?”

He smoothed his palm over her wet spanked cunt and waited for her to respond. When she held her tongue and refused to speak, he took another item out of his punishment chest—a thick leather strap, which he trailed over the length of her straining thighs. It was a warning, and a moment of softer pleasure.

“Speak to me, Sariah,” Griffen murmured.

“You wish me to speak? Very well. You are no conqueror of barbarians! You are just as barbaric as any of them,” Sariah declared with passion. “You have taken me and you have broken my spirit and you have dashed my hopes and made me prisoner to your will…”

“You speak boldly for one with a broken spirit,” Griffen interjected as she writhed against the bonds, her spanked pussy leaking juices of arousal, her inner walls pulsing for the thrust of his hard cock that did not come.

Instead he plied the thick leather lash over her inner thighs, bold splotches of red springing up on her spread legs. Sariah cried out, bucking and thrusting her hips. She would have taken a swat of the leather against her cunt in that moment, anything just to be touched at that nexus of her arousal that was crying out for him in spite of the burning discipline he was imparting.

“The more I thrash you, the wetter you get,” Griffen observed. “It is almost as if you crave punishment.”

“No!” Her denial was weak, torn from the part of her mind unable to fathom the truth of what she was when she was with him.

“No? Let me show you, Sariah. Let us see how long it takes for you to spend yourself once my cock is inside you.”

She expected to feel the hard thrust of his cock inside her cunt, but again he surprised her. Her pussy went unattended as Griffen pulled the plug out of her ass, slathered his cock in oil and thrust his thick shaft deep inside her virginal rear. Sariah screamed with unexpected pleasure as a thunderclap of heat and sensation rumbled through her body. Griffen used the ropes binding her as hand holds, drawing her ass back and forth along his cock, thrusting deeper and deeper with every stroke until she was entirely filled, her wet pussy pressed against his pubic bone as he held her down on his cock, her anus clenching tight at his rod.

“This is how a naughty pet is fucked,” Griffen informed her. “Not in that sweet cunt, but the tight little ass spiced with ginger. Do you know how good you feel, Sariah? How your ass squeezes my cock? Your body doesn’t lie. Your body sings for me. You quiver and you tremble and I see the truth in your eyes.”

“I curse you!” Sariah shouted up at him as he slid all the way out almost to the very head of his cock. “I curse your name and your birth!”

“No,” Griffen chuckled darkly. “Defiance will not serve you, not now. Admit your truth, Sariah. Tell me how you crave this.”

“I do not!” Sariah’s gasp of pleasure belied her denial as Griffen’s fingers descended upon her clit and began to massage gently. She arched her hips in spite of herself, pushing her ass down the slick rod of his cock. It was starting to feel good, very good. The lubricating oil was warm with the heat of their bodies and her sphincter was beginning to relax, making the thrusting less uncomfortable. When his fingers began to tease her clit, she bucked against her bonds, reaching the limit of her capacity for sensation.

She came with great convulsing contractions of her muscles, every nerve firing at once, heat and light and pleasure bursting through her sweating spread body with ferocious intensity. She cried out at the peak and was lost for a moment, consciousness fading in the forcefulness of her climax.

When she came to her senses again she was unbound and in Griffen’s arms. He was gently washing her body with warm water, smoothing away the sweat and oil that had coated her rear and thighs during their coupling.

“Griffen…”

“Shhh, pet, sleep,” he murmured. “We will speak in the morning.”

She wanted to say so much to him, but the words were jumbled and her mind was slow with gathering sleep. An apology appeared on her tongue but dissipated as her eyes closed and she fell into a deep sleep against his muscular frame, the sheltering wall of man who protected her from everything, including her own impulsive acts and her denials of who and what she truly was.

* * *

Griffen looked down at Sariah’s sleeping form with a heavy heart. She had not known it, but what he had just done was more than a mere punishment. It had been a test. Since he’d known her, Sariah’s words and eyes had told different stories. She spoke of wanting freedom, of going home, of being a simple shepherd girl. She yelled her defiance and her rage. And yet her eyes softened when she looked at him and he saw need and desire and yes, even love there.

But he could not continue to torture her or himself anymore. Though he adored her, loved her, she was not happy. No amount of climaxes could change that. She did not belong on his leash. She belonged in the wilds, tending her flock. As much as he wanted to keep her by his side, Griffen could not see her tear herself apart with desire torn between him and his body and her true nature. She had told him a hundred times she wanted to be free and his love could tolerate holding her no longer.

The residual light sting on his cheek reminded him of the slap she had dealt him and evoked memories of the night he had first met her, naked and afraid but so powerful in her own fragile feminine way.

“I will miss you, my pet,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead. “You are like no other. But I will not see you broken, and I will not see you live a life of sorrow.”

Sariah knew the moment she woke that something was different. There was a solemnity in the very air that day, a heaviness that had nothing to do with the weather, which remained bright and clear in spite of the foreboding she felt.

Griffen met her outside the tent and took her hand in his. “Come, Sariah,” he said solemnly. “We will make one last journey together.”

“Where are we going?”

“I have decided to return you to your people,” Griffen said, his tone strained with some emotion he was clearly trying to contain. “You are unhappy with me, and I will not have you harmed in the attempt to escape. Sometimes, it is kinder to release a wild thing than to keep trying to tame it.”

Sariah’s heart sank. She had wished for her freedom, put her life on the line for it, and now that it was being handed to her, she felt nothing but grief. What he had done to her in the name of discipline, she had deserved. She had urged him to greater acts. It was her resistance and refusal to respond that had seen her whipped and fucked to the point she now ached warmly with every step she took. She should have been furious with him, but all she could feel was a deep regret and a sense that she had destroyed any tenderness he might have had for her.