* **
“Why so sad?”
Stefan’s voice interrupts my reverie. Startled, I turn to watch his approach. I am seated at the high table in our great hall, alone for once as Clare is off playing somewhere. She has hardly left my side these last days as I have settled into my new home, my new life as Stefan’s duchess. I set aside the clothes I have been sorting and offer a smile to my handsome husband as he crosses the hall.
My heart twists at the sight of him, so tall, so dark, and so forbidding, but under that exterior lies a sensuality which continues to stun me. Each night, and several mornings too, he delights me with his touch. Sometimes gentle, sometimes less so, but always he fulfils me.
He has spanked me again, twice. Once it was a punishment for getting his name wrong yet again. We were in the solar, and he ordered me to our chamber. I squealed and wriggled, begging him to stop as he turned me across his knee and flogged me with his belt. By the time he stopped I was still and quiet, accepting of his discipline.
I was unable to sit in comfort for two days.
That night though, he tied me face down to our bed, my wrists and ankles bound to the posts, and proceeded to spend the next hours exploring every inch of my body with his tongue. I lost count of how many times he brought me to a shattering climax. Eventually I begged him to stop and allow me to sleep. He did, but not before making love to me with an aching tenderness that left me weak.
The second spanking, just yesterday, was pure eroticism. I lay on our bed, face down of course, the rolled-up bolster under my stomach and my bottom lifted for him. I spread my legs on command, and I suspect I may have purred when he caressed my buttocks. I longed for him to slip his hand between my thighs to test my wetness. I no longer experience any embarrassment at my response to Stefan’s touch. I relish it. At last I could bear the waiting no longer and I begged him to touch me, to spank me, to fuck me. He just chuckled, that wonderful, sexy laugh he has, and plunged three fingers into me. He promised me the spanking if I allowed him to explore my most private place with his finger.
So, I did. And it was—not bad, exactly. I did not voice that opinion though, having no desire to see my husband drowned in the Richtenholst moat. I swear my clitoris swelled as he slid his finger into me, that sweet spot throbbing until he took it between his finger and thumb and squeezed. My climax was so intense, the joy of it so overwhelming, that I may have passed out. The next thing I recall he was slapping my buttocks, raining light, rapid taps all over my bottom and thighs, and occasionally right there on the lips of my quim too. It was so good, so sensual, I could have wept. Perhaps I did. I might again.
My release seemed to persist for long, long minutes, one small climax after another, each one punctuated by a heady, greedy arousal, always begging,always demanding more.
At last Stefan heeded my pleas and drove his cock into me. He continued to slap my buttocks whilst he fucked me, pushing me to one last, shattering orgasm. This time he found his release too. The heated wash of his semen inside me is a sensation I have come to relish, not least as it will surely result in one of the most precious gifts he could offer me.
A child of my own.
“You look unhappy, and not for the first time. Why is that?” Stefan takes a seat opposite me, his glance puzzled as he takes in the pile of small items of clothing piled in front of me.
“I am fine. Really. I was just looking through these things of Clare’s. Some will need to be mended, others are past that.”
“You are very good with her. I am grateful for your time, and your efforts.”
“She is a sweet child. I like her.”
“She likes you. And from Clare that is an accolade indeed. She is sparing in her favours.”
I grin. He is right there. It took me two days of almost unbroken monologue before she would respond in more than couple of grudging syllables. Now, she is a chatterbox and sometimes I might long for a little peace. But not much. I love that she is happy, relaxed around me, and enjoying my company.
“I should go find her, check that she is alright.”
“She is. I just saw her playing hopscotch with Otto. I gather I must relieve him later. I confess it is not a game I am familiar with.”
“I can teach you, my lord.”
“Thank you. And after, I will repeat my lesson regarding the use of my given name, for I fear you are proving particularly stubborn in learning it.”
Ah, a spanking.I clench my bottom in anticipation even though I fully appreciate this will hurt. “Your belt, my lo… Stefan?”
“No. On this occasion I will require you to go down to the coppice beside the village and select a suitable switch. In fact, you may bring several as I have no doubt you will be presenting your delightful bottom for punishment on regular basis.”
I nod. “Of course. Several.”
“But you have distracted me. You have not answered my question.”
“Your question?”
“You seem so sad, so downhearted much of the time. Do I make you unhappy?”
“No! No, Stefan, Definitely you do not.”
“I thought not for your response in our chamber, whether to punishment or to pleasure, is always, shall we say, enthusiastic? So, what then? Do you dislike Richtenholst?”
