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The Knight's Prisoner (Medieval Discipline 1)

Page 8

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She dropped a mocking curtsy, but kept her mouth shut as bidden.

He pulled her closer to him, leaning his scarred face toward hers to speak in a low voice. “You do not stir trouble with the men. You will keep your mouth shut unless you're spoken to, and when you do speak, it will be respectfully. Is that perfectly clear?”

His displeasure with her made her heart beat faster. She looked at him, not wanting to show how chastened she actually felt. “Or what?” she asked boldly.

He shook his head at her. “Or I'll spank you till you can't sit down.”

She felt her cheeks grow warm and tried unsuccessfully not to lower her eyes—they flickered down and up several times.

“Yes, sir,” he prompted.

She managed to look at him. “Yes, sir,” she said, satisfied when the words came out sounding clear-voiced and unafraid.

* * *

Ferrum left Danewyn in Phillip's watch that evening while he made the nightly rounds of camp, making sure every man had done as he should. As he returned to the Prince's fire, he sensed before he heard a tension in the air.

“Shut it, whore!” Murdock swung back an arm as if to backhand Danewyn. Ferrum roared, running to the scene. Phillip had barked at the same time, and Murdock dropped the threatening arm without striking her.

“…Ferrum is her keeper. No one touches her but him!” he heard Phillip telling Murdock as he arrived.

“What's going on?” he demanded.

“You need to teach this little whore some manners,” Murdock snarled.

Rage crashed through him, and he heard a rushing sound in his ears. He wrapped his fist in Murdock's tunic. “She is NOT a little whore. She is the Royal Seer of the Red Fox, and she will be accorded some respect around here.”

Murdock looked taken aback. He craned his neck to look past Ferrum for Phillip's take on it, but Ferrum didn't have to look—he knew Phillip would back him up. Else Phillip wouldn't have just declared the lady was his ward. He waited until Murdock conceded by dropping his eyes and mumbling an apology. Only then did he release the soldier and turn to Danewyn. “Come,” he commanded.

She followed him warily to his tent.

“What was that about?” he asked her when the flap closed behind her.

She thrust her chin forward and shrugged. “I didn't like the way he was talking to me.”

“So what happened?” he asked.

“I told him I couldn't suck a cock that small, but there might be a sheep back in the village he could try.”

He sighed and rubbed his scar. “You didn't.”

“Aye,” she said, starting to look pleased with herself.

“What did I tell you this morning, Danewyn? You need to keep your mouth closed and stay out of trouble in this camp, or things won't go well for you here.”

“Oh, really?” she said sarcastically. “Worse than they're going?”

His shoulders sagged. This was a situation he couldn't win. She was rightfully bitter about being held prisoner, and if he weren't worried about keeping her safe, he might have thought her retort to Murdock was worth a laugh. But Phillip had just declared he was her official keeper, which meant the worries of both keeping her safe and correcting her behavior fell entirely on him.

“'Yes, sir' is the only appropriate response to me right now, Danewyn,” he said tiredly.

She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him defiantly.

He tilted his head to the side and considered her. “I doubt you want to feel my hand on your arse so soon after the whipping I gave you last night.”

Far from making her repentant, that only served to fuel her anger. The muscles in her jaw stood out as she grit her teeth. “You can go lick a sheep's cunt too,” she spat.

Shite. He sighed. He wrapped an arm around her torso and pulled her down as he sat upon his bedroll. She struggled wildly, which didn't surprise him. He pulled her face down over his lap and flipped her skirts up to reveal her bottom, which still sported several faded lines from the night before. He spanked her bouncing orbs with his hand, and she cried out and cursed him, struggling and kicking her lower legs.

As he spanked, he spoke, “You will speak respectfully to me and to the other men in this camp. If they disrespect you, I will handle it—not you. Understood?”

She refused to answer at first, but when he started spanking harder, she gasped, “Yes, sir!” When he continued spanking, she cried out louder, “I said ‘yes, sir’!”

“I thank you for that, but you're still getting the spanking you earned,” he said calmly, his hand growing hot from the flattening impact it made on her cheeks.

“Stop!” she shouted and renewed her struggle with ferocity.

It was tempting to spank harder, but instead he stilled his hand on her bottom and made his voice very quiet. “Danewyn. You don't want my belt again, do you?”



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