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The following is from my short medieval novella Under Siege. In it, Lady Camilla has been running her own castle and demesne for four years. Though she's had word her husband was killed in the Holy War, she is loathe to tell anyone, because she has no desire to remarry. Unfortunately, when her hired knight fails to show up, she is reduced to accepting the assistance of the fierce mercenary Sir Balen. He's willing to defend her, but in doing so, he assumes leadership of her castle, and-- it seems-- of her.
“Where is your sister?” Balen asked Tola. She had neither appeared for dinner nor the evening meal that day and he had not seen her about the keep since morning.
“She took some things into the village,” the girl said absently.
He frowned. “What sort of things?”
She shrugged. “A blanket for a new baby, and food for a family that's suffered difficulties—that sort of thing.”
“Did she go alone?”
“Nay, sir—on foot.”
“Shouldn't she have returned by now?” he demanded, his anxiety growing. “It's dark out!”
Tola's brow furrowed. “Aye, 'tis unusual for her to be gone so long,” she admitted, increasing his fears.
He stood up, taking a hunk of bread with him. “Which way to the village?” he asked grimly. He ordered his squire to saddle his horse and took off as quickly as he could, trying not to think of what might have gone wrong.
“Lady Camilla!” he bellowed from the road in the center of the village.
Heads came out of every building and in the dark it was difficult to discern if one of them belonged to the lady he sought.
He went limp with relief and urged his stallion toward her. She was carrying a baby in her arms, the sight of which stirred something deep in his soul—some unknown desire that had never before surfaced. His relief that she was unharmed was quickly morphing into anger at her lack of sense. He swung off the destrier and strode to her side.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, bewildered, bouncing her knees a bit to soothe the babe. The new mother stood in the doorway, watching them with open curiosity.
“I've come to escort you back to the castle,” he said stiffly, not wishing to embarrass her in front of her vassals.
“Oh,” she said, as if surprised. “All right.”
She entered the hut again and returned without the baby. He offered his interlaced hands for her foot and boosted her up to his mount, swinging up behind her. He could feel the warmth of her small body against his as he held the reins around her. She smelled like fresh air and that faint lavender scent. Her thick glossy hair looked like a warm mantle over her shoulders.
She was so perfect in every way—dear God, if anything had happened to her, walking back alone in the dark… He grit his teeth. Her lack of care with her personal safety was a problem that required correcting. If he were her hired knight, it would be his duty to protect her. And in the absence of her husband, that just may mean chastising her for taking unnecessary risks.
He didn't speak for the duration of the short trip back to the castle and she did not attempt conversation, either. He dismounted first and then took hold of her slender waist to lift her down, finding an undeniable pleasure in the feel of her weight in his hands.
“I need to see you in my chamber,” he said firmly. “You may bring your sister, if you’d like.”
“No!” She stopped short and stared at him in dismay, instantly guessing his intent.
“Do not fight me, Lady Camilla,” he said in an undertone, not wishing to alert any of the servants.
“But—” she spluttered. “You can't!”
“Who's going to stop me?” he challenged her. “You can take it here, in front of everyone, or you can do as I commanded.”
Seeing she had no option but to obey, her shoulders sagged and she gave him a look that wrenched his heart. It held reproach and something else—mayhap betrayal. He steeled himself against the pain it stirred in him. This had to be done.
“Come,” he said gently.
He was surprised when she obeyed, walking through the castle and up the stairs to his chamber without a word. He shut the door and sat down on the edge of his bed. “Lady Camilla,” he said sternly. “What is the purpose of keeping a knight or men at arms to protect you, when you take so little care for your own safety?”
She made a sputtering sound. “I do not keep a knight to protect me, I keep a knight to defend Falconworth.”
“And where would Falconworth be without her Lady?”
She started to roll her eyes and he interrupted the gesture by pulling her swiftly into position over his lap, lifting her skirts to bare her perfect, firm cheeks.
“Some arguments are best solved with a spanking,” he observed, bringing his hand down on first one side and then the other, watching as her pretty cheeks flattened and sprang back under his palm. He ignored the disgruntled “Harumph,” that came from the target of his chastisement.
“Do not…ever…stay away…from the castle…after dark,” he gritted as he smacked.
He reddened every part of her bottom before concentrating his spanks on the lower half, where she sat. She was making little muffled grunting sounds, which his cock was unfortunately finding similar to the sounds of tumbling a girl. The way her hips writhed on his lap didn't help the matter.
“Yes,” she gasped.
He spanked harder, angry with his inability to keep his eyes from wandering to the moist pink heart between her thighs. Ah, God. It was no use.
He stopped spanking and pulled her to stand, then to sit on his lap, feeling as flustered as she appeared.
She looked down at him, her lower lip trembling as she glowered. “You have no right!” she spat at him.
“I know,” he admitted miserably. “But you scared me to death.”
She met his eye in surprise, the trembling in her lip stilled. They stared at each other for a moment, a current of tension running between them. Before he knew he meant to, his mouth claimed hers, his hungry lips devouring her soft ones, tasting the sweetness that he'd been longing to sample. She shocked him by returning the kiss, tentatively at first, then more aggressively, her own mouth seeking his, her little tongue darting out to tease his lips. He groaned and tightened his arms around her, changing hands so that he could cup her face, holding her in place for his onslaught. She welcomed it, opened to him, slid one delicate hand behind his neck to reciprocate.
Oh God, this woman!
His hand began to stroke the side of her thigh, finding skin where her skirts had never been smoothed down after her spanking. The shock of contact—skin on skin—made his cock surge with approval, and his hand eagerly stroked up and down her leg, indulging in the exquisite pleasure of feeling her silky skin.
He wouldn't take her.
He couldn't take her.
Nay, but mayhap he could give her something to remember him by. Never in his life had he cared about a woman's pleasure before, but at this moment, his only desire in life was to hear this beautiful woman cry out with fulfilled desire. He leaned her back and bent his head lower, putting his mouth over her breast, feeling for her nipple underneath the bodice of her dress. Her fingers fumbled, unlacing the front of the gown and pulling it slightly open for him, so that the rise of her breast was visible. He dived into the opening she'd made, kissing the ripe apple of her breast until he reached nipple. And oh, what a nipple! It was wide and firm, ready for his tongue, which flicked and sucked and teased. She bowed up to meet him, offering an encouraging sigh. He grew bolder, his hand exploring the inside of her thigh and though her legs initially jerked together, she immediately spread them again, which nearly made him squirt in his leggings.
He accepted the invitation without hesitation, cupping her mound with his hand, sliding his fingers up and down over her slick folds. Her breath was coming in little pained gasps now, and he did not slow the intensity—simultaneously torturing her nipple and the stiffened bud of pleasure between her legs. She rocked up and down, squirming in response. He allowed the moment to build until she began to whimper with need and then he slid two fingers inside her. She was tight. He faltered for a moment, worried that she was still a maid, but then he realized with eight year's absence from her husband, it was no wonder she was tight.
He pressed his fingers in and out of her, filling her to the hilt, hitting her inner wall of flesh and feeling it harden under his fingers. He worked the stiffened spot with a determined focus, penetrating her deeply with each thrust of his hand. She cried out then, climax rippling through her in waves, her legs jerking and tightening, thighs clamping down on his hand. He kept his fingers wedged inside her, moving them slowly back and forth, continuing to tickle the area of pleasure that had brought on her finish. She panted, her head thrown back, eyes closed in what appeared to be ecstasy. A wetness in the corners of her eyes concerned him, but when she opened them and blinked it back, her sigh was pure contentment.
“Lady Camilla,” he breathed.
She swallowed nervously and looked down at her bodice, busying her fingers with its re-lacing.
Question: I obviously have an affinity for medieval knights in shining armor to do my spankings. If you had to pick a time period/type of hero/heroine for your fantasy spanking, what would it be?
Lords and Ladies: Two Medieval Spanking Novellas
Lords and Ladies is composed of two novellas filled with medieval adventure, sweet romance, bold men, feisty women, hot sex, and firm spankings.
UNDER SIEGE BY RENEE ROSEFor Lady Camilla, the only thing worse than managing Falconworth castle on her own would be her overlord discovering that she is a widow and marrying her off to his wretched nephew. Keeping her husband's death a secret is a top priority, right up there with ensuring that troops from a rival castle don’t break down her curtain wall gate with their battering ram.
Yet when a devilishly handsome knight by the name of Sir Balen rides to her rescue, she is reluctant to turn over the control she has become accustomed to wielding. The attraction between them is palpable, but his arrogant assumption of the position and duties of her late husband irritates her, especially because those duties seem to include spanking her bare bottom!
Can she swallow her pride and propose the marriage which she knows would be best for all involved, or will her stubbornness cost her and the people of Falconworth dearly?
QUITE DECIDED BY KOREY MAE JOHNSONWhen eighteen-year-old Wenda discovers that she is to be married off to a nobleman easily old enough to be her grandfather, she concocts a desperate plan to avoid that fate. Lord Talus, who was like an older brother to her growing up, will marry her instead—she is quite decided on it.
The only problem with this plan is the fact that Talus refuses it outright. Wenda has grown into a beautiful woman, but he has known her since she was a child and he cannot bring himself to expose her to the dark, hungry, sexual side of him which she would see as his wife.
Talus underestimates the lengths to which Wenda will go to carry out her plan, however, and he finds a marriage with her forced upon him by false allegations that he has stolen her maidenhood in the night. For her part Wenda soon learns, to her dismay, that her new husband is well within his rights to bare his young wife’s bottom and chastise her firmly for her scheming. Moreover, he intends to thoroughly enjoy every curve of her beautiful body once he feels the time is right to have his way with his new bride.
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