Black Dorn [submission/punishment/bondage] (8 page)

Too many confusing questions
whirled in her mind. Maybe answers will come tomorrow. Answers only
Malack can give. Branwyn drifted off into a troubled
sleep.

Chapter Five

"Is the castle still
standing after the wrath of Malack?" Branwyn asked as Leah helped
her into her morning bath.

"The others are saying he
bedded four last evening."

"A lusty
appetite."

"Duncan has not seen the
gon-dra in such a mood since—"

"When the wife chosen for
him left him. Silly creature, to reject someone so handsome." Both
girls giggled, then prepared Branwyn for her day’s lesson. She
followed Leah to the room she had found Malack in the previous
night. It looked much larger in the daylight. Pillows now covered
the floor.

The strange chair still
rested on the platform but the manhood-shaped object was gone. Not
all of the dunes were present. Branwyn seated herself next to
Clovis and Radella.

"But I heard he had bedded
six, three of them at one time," whispered Clovis. "Good morning,
Branwyn. Are you well?"

Branwyn settled herself next
to the dunes, nodded a greeting then sighed. "I did not have a good
night’s rest."

Radella laughed as she
finger-combed her long brown hair. "Nor did many people in the
castle. Where is Sasha? Duna Trea will beat her if she is
late."

"Sasha is excused today."
Clovis giggled. "She is resting. The gon-dra bedded her. Almost
tore her into two halves. The guards could hear her
screams."

"Screams of ecstasy."
Radella leaned in to whisper. "She loves—"

All chatter ceased as Duna
Trea entered the room. She pointed to someone near the front. A
girl stood next to her. Branwyn did not know this dune. Trea
flicked her hand. The girl stripped, leaving her clothes in a pile
at the foot of the platform.

"She is naked…down there."
Branwyn’s hand covered her mouth. Many other dunes whispered among
themselves.

Clovis leaned over to
whisper, "I have heard that some men prefer their dune’s like that.
It is so they can watch their manhood as they bed them."

"I wonder how she removes
the hair?" Radella seemed intrigued by the sight.

Trea pointed to the chair.
The girl mounted it and placed her feet in the straps, exposing
herself to the other dunes. Trea pulled an object from the folds of
a bag. It was thick and shaped like a manhood, but with ridges on
it. She picked up a jug of oil, poured it on the object then on the
dune’s exposed genitals. Rubbing the oil around, she slid the bulb
into the dune’s pleasure hole, snapped her fingers and the object
slid in the distance of one ridge. The silence was shattered by the
chatter of the surprised dunes.

"That is a lune. We are to
be trained in a special skill for our masters." Clovis
whispered.

With a snap of Trea’s
fingers, the lune slid deeper into the dune. She snapped her
fingers three times. The object disappeared. Releasing the dune’s
feet, Trea helped her to stand then slapped at her inner thighs. As
the dune stood legs apart, Trea held her hand underneath. Nothing
happened. The dune held the object.

Trea clapped once. A bit of
the lune descended. She clapped again; more of it appeared. She
snapped her fingers. The lune jerked back inside.

Branwyn glanced at her
fellow dunes. The dune had everyone's undivided
attention.

Trea stepped forward. "You
each will go to a serving girl, get a lune and a jug of oil. Pour
oil onto the lune then run your fingers over it. Get to know what
it feels like. Prepare yourself by pouring oil on your pleasure
hole.

Excited chatter filled the
air as each dune rose, went to a serving girl and collected her oil
and lune. Branwyn settled herself on the pillows near her
friends.

Radella winked at Clovis.
"Let me." She dribbled some oil down the insides of Clovis’s thighs
then spread it around with her fingers. She slipped one inside and
stroked her. Clovis moaned.

Trea’s voice boomed across
the room. "Radella, remove your hand. I expect you dunes to do well
in this lesson. You have been selected for this training. Do not
fail me."

Branwyn did not look up. She
suspected Duna Trea looked at her.

For the first hour, peals of
laughter filled the room as each dune tried and failed. Some
managed to pull the lune into themselves, but it dropped to the
floor as soon as they stood. Branwyn lay on her back with the lune
partially in her, but try as she might, she could not draw it in.
Radella lifted her head to check where Duna Trea went to, then
reached over and slid Clovis’s lune in and out. "Try it," she
whispered to Branwyn. "The ridges increase your
pleasure."

Branwyn peeked over the
pillows. On the other side of the room, Duna Trea spoke with a
dune. She reached between her legs and slid the lune in. The ridges
rubbed her with a delightful sensation. She started to pull it out,
when Trea’s face appeared above hers. She clamped her muscles
shut.

"Ah, you managed to insert
it. Stand. Let us see if you can hold onto it."

It took a moment for Branwyn
to organize herself but she managed to stand. No thump. Trea held
her hand underneath. Nothing happened. Trea straightened then
explained how to relax and tighten her muscle to allow the lune to
drop a bit. Branwyn’s first attempt was a failure as the lune fell
to the floor. Trea smiled. "Keep trying, Branwyn. Radella, touch
Clovis again and I will beat you."

Several dunes rested after
lunch, but Branwyn was determined to learn this pleasuring method.
She was just beginning to be successful, when the dunes had to
leave to prepare for the evening meal. When Branwyn stood, she
staggered as the room spun before her. She felt hot, especially
inside. It was similar to the way she had felt when Malack
pleasured her. She had never left an instruction feeling this
way.

As she crossed the
courtyard, she paused by the well and splashed some cool water on
her face. It dribbled down her chin and dripped onto her breast.
She did not need to look up. She sensed him standing behind her.
She turned and knelt. "Gon-Dra. Would you care for a drink?" With
raised hands, she offered him the ladle. He shook his head, started
to speak, turned and left. Brushing the water from her breast, she
stood and walked to her chamber.

Leah had made a chain of
flowers and wove it into Branwyn’s hair. She dressed her dune in a
dark green gown to highlight the color of her forest green eyes.
She anointed her with fragrances from a small vial. "To cause fire
in the one you love. It is from an elder woman in the
village."

Branwyn entered the great
hall and sat with the other dunes. Those who had trained with the
lune chatted about their successes and failures; others gossiped
about Malack and his exploits of the night before. Branwyn waited
for the meal to begin. A guard stepped up next to her and requested
she follow him. He escorted her to the part of the castle where she
had been when she had entertained the gon.

Another guard stood outside
a chamber door. He held the door for her. She entered. It was a
magnificent bedchamber. Much larger than the one she slept in. Rich
tapestries hung on the walls. Silver and gold threads adorned the
bed curtains in an intricate pattern around the edges. Thick fur
rugs lay scattered on the floor. A fire snapped in the hearth. Near
it sat a table laden with food and drink. A movement behind her
caused her to turn. She dropped to her knees.

"Stand." Malack held out his
hand and helped her up. "When we are alone, I want you beside me,
not beneath me."

"Are we to be
alone?"

"I very much wish that to
happen."

She held her voice firm,
"But I am bound to my duty and that displeases you."

"I understand duty. I also
am bound to mine." He pointed to the table. "Let us forget duty
while we dine."

The wall torches remained
unlit, so candles on the tables and the glow from the fireplace
provided the only light. It made the room inviting. Branwyn
relaxed. Malack escorted her to a seat then filled her goblet and
his. "Usually the gon makes a toast, but instead I will offer an
apology. It is not easy for a gon-dra to ask forgiveness, but I
feel I must. My quick temper quick to rise; it has gotten me into
trouble ever since I was a child. I fear it has done it again. Your
offer to release me yesterday was not given as the tragor of a dune
to her gon-dra; it was offered as a woman attempting to give
pleasure to a man." He traced her jawline with his finger. "I am
humbled by your presence. The great warrior is defeated by the
eyes, lips and face of a beautiful woman."

"I have longed to be touched
by you—as many of the other dunes do. My longing is not tragor. It
is to be with the man known as Malack."

They ate in silence. Both
brows furrowed, as each was obviously deep in thought.

A discrete knock broke the
silence. Duncan stepped before Malack and lowered his head.
"Gon-Dra, Duna Trea is seeking her missing dune. I have told her
that I understood she has taken to her bed."

Malack nodded.

"Shall I bring more wine?
Mead?"

"No. Just keep Duna Trea
away from my door."

Duncan exited.

Branwyn rose. "If the duna
is looking for me…"

Malack put a hand on her
arm. "You wish to leave?"

"No."

He rose and held out his
hand. When Branwyn stood, he swept her into his arms and carried
her to his bed. "Branwyn, I choose you as my wife, not my duna, my
wife." Branwyn’s eyes widened as her hand clasped to her mouth.
"You were bought for another, but that can be dealt with. I am the
gon-dra."

"Do you know by whom I was
purchased?"

"It is of little matter.
Every castle or manor house in this part of the land is loyal to
Black Dorn." He placed his sword and knife on a table then stood
next to his bed. "There is one thing I must ask. Long ago, one was
chosen for me—the daughter of a high-ranking noble—who rejected me.
I was inexperienced. I vowed I would choose my mate. I have chosen
you. Do you…will you accept me?"

Branwyn knelt on the bed
before him and looked into his eyes. "Malack, I choose you with all
my body and all my love." She wrapped her arms around his neck then
pressed her lips on his, sealing her promise. Stepping off the bed,
she untied the ribbons that held her hair in place, letting her
red-brown tresses fall far below her shoulders. There was no
fumbling of her fingers as she loosened the ties to her gown and
shifts. They fell to the floor.

She spoke as she undressed
Malack. "When I first arrived, Duna Trea tried to explain my title.
She said I would become a duna after I was taken. I did not
understand. In the land I come from, matters between a man and
woman are not discussed." She lay back on the bed. "It is much
different here in Black Dorn. I now understand what taken means. It
is when a man lays with a woman and they are joined as
one."

She tried to complete what
she wanted to say, but Malack kissed her chest and moved toward an
awaiting nipple. "I do not understand what you meant when you said
that you could not take what is his—meaning my
master’s."

Malack stopped two kisses
away from her nipple. "When I place my manhood in you, the first
time, there will be blood. It will prove you have not been bedded
by another."

"Will I bleed
because…because—I fear…I fear…" Tears dribbled down her cheeks. "I
want to be taken by you, but I fear you. My head whirls and not
from the wine of Black Dorn."

Malack pushed up some
pillows, rested on them and wrapped Branwyn in his arms. "Why do
you fear me?" His breath was hot across her neck.

"I saw you…bedding Sasha. I
heard her screams."

"Sasha’s a dune. You are
not. You could never be a duna. I sense a spirit inside you. You
have hidden it, but it is there." While he spoke, he caressed her
arms.

"I have felt lost and afraid
since coming to Black Dorn. The land and its ways are much
different from my home. Only now do I begin to feel as if my feet
are planted firmly on ground once again.

Malack chuckled. "Then is it
I who should be afraid? When your fiery spirit awakens
again."

She leaned her head back and
planted a kiss on his chin. "You may instruct me if my will becomes
stronger than it should for the wife of the gon-dra."

"I would never instruct you
that way. That is how I bedded Sasha. You watched us in the
training room?"

Branwyn nodded.

"I was drunk and angry. Trea
asked me to bed Sasha. Her master will care not if she is
pleasured. She must learn this. I bedded her as a gon-dra should."
He stopped. "As a gon-dra." He rubbed his forehead. "My birthright
has cost me a brother." He paused. "I must be seen as strong and
powerful, even when injured or sick or…drunk and angry?"

She closed her eyes as she
listened to his words, reveling in the casual strokes of his hands
on her arms. When his hand brushed a breast or a nipple, her chest
would rise to his touch.