We’re half way through the week already, and because Monday was a holiday for the UK, it feels like time is flying! My Vikings are now with the copy-editor, so they’re one step closer to reaching your e-readers… In the meantime, here’s another dark and delicious snippet from Anders’ and Aurelie’s tale.
“Yes, my sweeting,” he says, his voice vibrating over me. “You have come a long way in the time you’ve been mine Aurelie, but you should not forget your place. You shall not command me, nor any man of my blood, and you certainly must learn to hold your tongue. By the time this spanking is done, I hope the point will be much clearer for you, my sweeting. Do you understand me?”
I moan at the next impact, taking a moment to absorb the pain before I answer him. “Yes, My Lofðungr,” I groan, feeling the moisture pooling between my thighs already. Whatever it is about being taken in hand by a powerful man, Anders has it in good measure. The strikes are hard, but despite the pain, I am moved by his sentiment. I have upset Anders by speaking out of turn, and I am rueful to have done so. Now, I must accept my penance, and hope I am still able to sit down when I am introduced to the King tomorrow.
He spanks me again, and again, each strike lighting a trail of fire over my backside. The sting starts to become unbearable, and I want to tell him to stop, yet I know there is little point. My Viking is the one who decides how and when to punish me, and only he will decide when my spanking is done, but oh Gods, each strike is so painful! I wonder if I can really tolerate the intensity of this spanking. I lose count after thirty strokes, feeling the outline of his palm against my bare bottom.
“Just because you are in Lundborg does not mean you have free reign to say as you wish, Aurelie,” Anders goes on, his voice hard and unrelenting. “Let each swat of my hand be a reminder of this fact to you. I am the master, and you are the captive, whatever transpires between us. Every time you overstep the line, I will be here to punish you, my sweeting. I will be here to tan this beautiful backside and correct you.”
And correct me here does, his palm impacting over and over until I am on the verge of tears.
“Please, My Lofðungr,” I whimper, wanting desperately for the spanking to be done, and for his warmth and affection to resume in its place. “Please, I have remembered, and I will remember. Please stop!”
My plea is met by Anders’ dark chuckle, and I know in an instant that my punishment is far from over.
“I do so love to hear you beg, Aurelie,” he purrs, “but no, now is not the time to stop. Your spanking only truly begins when you think you can bear no more, and rest assured my love,” he pauses to land a further three firm strikes to my sore bottom. “You will bear more for me.”
Don’t forget to read where it all began in The Viking’s Conquest!
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