He was a master of the whip, but what of the Rudius?
The time was near at hand when they would pull over and find some secluded spot. Once there, she would strip and be punished. The thought of it, which she found was a constant thing, kept her stomach in a state of butterflies. She really wanted it to be over, and yet at the same time, never happen. Part of her also wanted to take solace in the spanking, because then she would be reassured—she remained important to both men. What she longed above all else was to have them bed her together and for her to wake each morning to find herself between them, warm and held in their arms. Such a thing could never happen while she deserved a spanking.
Felix rode ahead and disappeared out of view. Eventually, he reappeared and waved Rufus off the road and into the meadows until they came to small structure: a walled circle with a small opening. The pen was used in the winter to keep sheep safe from the wind and rain. The entrance was wide enough to take the cart, which Rufus unharnessed, but the horses were kept outside and tethered so they could eat the sweet grass.
Soon her bottom would be angled to face the starry sky. She fiddled with the sleeves of her stola, ashamed of how she felt inside: lustful and nervous.
“Stay there.” Felix pointed to the inside of the wagon.
The two men went hunting for food and when they returned, they weren’t only carrying rabbits and two fat wood pigeons, but wooden posts, which they must have found abandoned. While Rufus built a fire, Felix hammered the posts together to form legs as if he was making a trestle table. She didn’t think they would be eating off it. To her surprise, he used the sheepskin as a top. Stretching it across the posts, he nailed the hide in place and it formed what seemed to be a tightly strung hammock. When he waved her over, she nearly laughed. He’d not measured the legs right. The back two were shorter than the front ones. Then she realised she was going to be bent over it.
She crushed her legs together. He’d fashioned a novel piece of furniture entirely for the purpose of punishing her. She was strangely enthralled by his dedication. She nearly complimented him on his craftsmanship, but thought better of it. Best not say a thing.
They ate in silence. The choice of food remained bland as they’d encountered nobody since Uther and his companions. Finally, as dusk descended, and thankfully and another warm summer’s night, she was told to undress.
She froze to the spot, her fingers so stiff and useless she couldn’t move them.
“Bethan,” Felix commanded. “Take off your clothes or else I shall strip them off myself. You’re already facing a long night of punishment, do you want to add to it?”
Frankly, no, she almost blurted. But, again she kept her lips pressed tight together. Rufus came to her aid by unlacing the back of her smock and sliding the fabric down her arms until it dropped off her hips, then onto the ground. She shivered. The coolness would be temporary; she expected her arse to be hot in a short space of time.
“Bend over.” Feli
x pointed at the makeshift table.
Bethan bit down on her lower lip.
“Now!” he added.
She bent and to her surprise, the taut sheepskin supported her weight well, as did the wooden struts beneath her. She rocked on her toes and the structure held. It needed to; she couldn’t imagine herself keeping still for long.
She’d seen the Rudius many times before. Felix carried it with pride. It was thicker than a metal blade, but at least blunt and flat. He tapped the blade on the palm of his hand.
She wondered if she should plead for mercy and decided to save those words for when she truly needed them.
Rufus ran his hand along her spine and down her furrow. She gasped. She’d not expected any tenderness.
“I want to see it,” he said to Felix.
“Separate your legs,” Felix said to her.
She shuffled her feet apart and gave Rufus the view he desired. She squeezed her eyes shut. Somehow, her nipples had turned into pebbles. If they saw wetness between her exposed folds, it would not be a lie. She wanted their cocks inside of her, and soon, she prayed.
“Did you find it?” Felix asked Rufus.
“Yes. Here.”
Bethan opened her eyes and tried to peer over around, but her view was blocked by the angle of the sheepskin. What had Rufus found?
“I crushed it into a paste. It’s not as good as oil, but it will do to soften her bottom hole.”
“Spank her bottom with your hand until she is red and cussing under her breath, like she does, then I’ll spank her with the Rudius, while you can use her belt, then we’ll test her readiness.” Felix stepped back.
She could guess where Rufus stood—to one side—and when his hand made contact with her upturned bottom, she knew she was right. He spanked her without pausing. Smack upon smack, and all of them on the same heated spot on each arse cheek. She stomped her sandals into the flattened grass of the pen and winced with each blow, whistling the sound between her teeth.
“Don’t worry about making a racket,” Rufus said, aiming at her thigh creases. “There’s nobody to hear you here.”
She shrieked a terrible word and Rufus punished her bottom with a few more slaps before finally giving her the relief of a few brisk rubdowns.