A Stern Lord for My Lady by R.R. Vane

Chapter 3

The rest of what happened took place in a sort of daze. Alicia’s bottom was blazing when she watched her father sign the marriage contract. And it still smarted, somewhat less fiercely, as Sir Bertran presented her with a wedding gift, as tradition decreed. Alicia felt like laughing, bitterly – he’d already gifted her with a stinging, crimson behind, so any other gifts now looked ridiculous. Still, she forced herself to accept his gift, wordlessly, with a gracious incline of her head. She was not addle-brained, and she understood too well that wails, tears or protests would serve to naught now. There was a royal decree, and her marriage would take place, whether she acquiesced or not. Besides, she had no doubt that the fiend, Sir Bertran, would not hesitate to take her over his knee again, for a new lesson in humility, if she dared protest. She ruefully glanced at his large right hand, noting, in impotent fury, that its palm was still somewhat reddened by the exertion he’d made when he’d spanked her. She fervently prayed that his hand felt at least an ounce of the burn that her own bottom was keenly feeling right now.

On her finger, the groom slipped a ring with both their initials carved on it, as was proper. He pinned the gift he’d bestowed on her gown. It was a conventional gift – a ruby brooch, a symbol of fidelity. As the blessings and the vows were exchanged, Alicia sat through all of it like a martyr, striving not to fidget from one foot to the other, to take her mind off the soreness in her bottom.

A serious issue presented itself later, when the newlyweds were supposed to seat themselves in their honour seats, beside their sovereigns, at the king’s high table on the dais. Ribald laughter and jokes assailed Alicia’s ears as she hesitated in front of the seat she was supposed to take, even after a page brought a red cushion for her comfort. Both the lords and the ladies assembled found great merriment in her hesitation, declaring loudly that the cushion looked as red as her spanked behind must still be. Both monarchs found equal entertainment in it, and the jest continued, as Alicia sat silent, blushing crimson. It was uncomfortable to sit down, but possible. She didn’t spare a single glance in her father’s direction. She felt sickened by his cowardly behaviour, and certain her deep humiliation could have been spared if he had been truthful with her.

She gritted her teeth, and she braced herself to bear a wedding feast that was proving to be far more humiliating than any other thing she’d had to suffer. It was not how she’d ever pictured her wedding. A wedding was an occasion of joy and honour. She strived not to hang her head in utter shame, and stared at the trencher in front of her. She and Sir Bertran shared a knife, trencher and goblet, and she noted he’d already cut a choice morsel of venison, which he was offering to her. He was behaving graciously, as a courteous bridegroom should, when only hours before he’d spanked her hard to make her pay for the insult he’d received.

She shook her head mutely. Tonight, she lacked all appetite.

“You should eat something, my lady,” he told her in a deep voice.

It was only the third time she’d heard him speak, and she vividly recalled she’d been lying across his lap, bare-assed, when she’d heard him speak first. Deep heat crept into her cheeks, as she shook her head again. She struggled to meet his gaze, lest he should think her a coward, but, in truth, she still felt deeply shamed by what had occurred between them. And she felt deeply shamed as that ignoble, treacherous fire ignited inside her sex when she looked upon his face. He was comely – perhaps not handsome according to all the canons of male beauty, but comely nevertheless, his comeliness strangely enhanced by the faint white scar slashing his left cheek, and by those arresting eyes, which were not blue or green or dark, but hazel and gold-flecked.

The jokes and laughter around them rang harshly in her ears. Some of the guests were still making fun of her well spanked bottom and of the future chastisements her husband might have in store for her. Others were merrily bringing up the wedding night she and her lord would spend together, a wedding night that promised to be fiery indeed, in view of what had occurred. Sir Bertran didn’t seem any more amused by the general merriment than she was. He just sat through all of it with a rather grim expression on his face, eating calmly. She noted he drank sparingly. She decided to take a sip of wine, and felt somewhat restored by it.

He perused her with his gold-flecked eyes.

“You should not drink on an empty belly,” he cautioned her gruffly, extending a new morsel of meat to her. She frowned at him, already disliking the way he was presuming to command her. Sir Erec would have made a biddable, genial husband, and he’d have suited her fierce disposition better. This man was not the right choice, even if he stirred that treacherous, lusty heat inside her. Alicia wondered what could be wrong with her, to moon over a man vain enough to want to humiliate her in front of everyone to see.

She shook her head.

“I cannot bear food right now,” she said, making her meaning plain by casting him a disdainful stare.

She’d been wrong to believe him merciful for sparing her the switch. Wasn’t he the one who’d demanded she be punished in full view of everyone, in order to pay for the insult? And wasn’t he the one whose ambition had spurred him to covet her dowry? He was certainly arrogant and vain. And she suspected he’d spared her the switch just in order to make a show of his magnanimity in front of the court. She harboured no illusions, however. He would make good use of it in the future. He was not a compliant, biddable husband, but one who would demand blind obedience. And Alicia knew herself not to be an obedient, meek woman. She had a temper, and she had no doubt he’d try to bring her to heel. She had been right to reject his suit. They were simply not right for one another.

He raised his eyebrows at her, and Alicia calmly wondered if he’d make her pay for her effrontery later. No matter. It would be just one more, painful humiliation to add to the one she’d undergone earlier. She pictured her future life, and she didn’t like what she envisaged.

“As you wish, my lady,” he told her, turning away from her, and taking a sip from the goblet they shared.

* * *

Soon it wastime for the bedding and Bertran braced himself for the full, tedious, ribald ceremony. He bore the jokes of those who attended to his undressing, and who helped him into a fur-lined robe, and waited patiently for the time when he should join his bride in the bedchamber that had been readied and blessed for the wedding night. He strived hard to plaster an eager smile on his face, as he let his laughing attendants lead him to the bedchamber when it was announced that the bride was ready for the bedding. He strived to smile so no one would perceive his doubt and anguish. He’d punished the lady, and he feared she would prove unwilling to share the bed with him. Yet the deed had to be done tonight. Bertran prayed fervently that the lady would prove herself willing.

Once he’d been brought to the bedchamber, he observed Lady Alicia was fully naked, with only the curtain of her luscious chestnut hair to shield her. As custom decreed, the ladies who had helped her undress now raised her thick long hair to reveal her naked body in all its glory. Large, overripe breasts with pink nipples that looked like rosebuds, pleasantly rounded hips and shapely thighs. In her dress, Lady Alicia had looked attractive, but in her nakedness she looked simply beautiful. He should have expected it. Hadn’t he glanced upon her naked bottom and found it simply wonderful to behold?

The ladies bid Lady Alicia to turn round for her groom to look for blemishes, but there were none he could see. He held his breath noticing her naked, luscious bottom, still glowing red from the spanking he’d delivered earlier. There was more laughter and teasing from those gathered to witness the bedding, but he turned a deaf ear to it all, unable to take his eyes off his new bride. She might have been unwilling. She might disdain him. She might be furious at him for what he’d done, but, at this moment, he found he didn’t care for any of it. He simply wanted her.

He stood patiently while his own attendants got him out of the robe he now wore, parading him naked in front of everyone to see including his bride, who should in her turn be able to spot any blemishes that might be there. He nearly blushed as he felt her green gaze on him. It was a bold gaze that seemed to be taking in everything there was to see. There were his battle scars, of course, but these counted as honourable tokens, and not as blemishes. And there was his cock, which was now standing to full attention in front of her, oblivious to the gawkers who were crowding the bedchamber.

There was more laughter, and ribald jokes that alluded to the groom’s eagerness.

“Oh, my,” one of the older ladies attending said, with a knowing laugh. “My lady Alicia, you might have been right to reject this one. He’s clearly prone to impale you mightily. I do not know if you’ll survive this night.”

Bertran found himself scowling at the woman, knowing her ribald comment would only make things worse. His bride was already furious with him. There was no need to add fear to the fury….

When finally, the onlookers were satisfied with the fun they had at the newlyweds’ expense, they left, allowing Bertran and his new bride their privacy. Bertran stared at his bride awkwardly, picking up his discarded robe and closing it over his nakedness. He wanted to proceed slowly. He meant to be gentle in his lovemaking and mindful of Lady Alicia’s innocence, because he knew no other way. It would be dishonourable to behave otherwise.

He noted she made no effort to conceal her own nakedness. His cock throbbed painfully, but he restrained himself. He looked at the tray that held a pitcher of wine and goblets, and wanted to offer her some of the wine, but he recalled she’d eaten nothing.

“So, my lady, at last we are alone,” he said artlessly.

She gave a bitter laugh, and he noted she was still standing by the bed. Certainly, she still found it difficult to sit down on the sore bottom he’d given her. He opened his mouth to tell her the public spanking hadn’t been his wish, but the cold look in her green eyes stopped him short. There was deep disdain mirrored there. The anger he’d felt towards her those weeks ago, when he’d first read her letter, came back in full force. She had insulted his family grievously, and now she didn’t seem to show any sign of contrition, not even after the painful lesson he’d delivered. What was he ever going to do with a wife such as she? His first wife had been meek and gentle, not haughty and defiant as Lady Alicia certainly was.

He heaved a sigh, striving to keep his temper. It was their wedding night, and he had every intention of keeping both his lust and his temper well in leash.

He stared at her, not knowing what to tell her to make her despise him less. He was not a man of many words, and he was not schooled in flowery phrases or honeyed talk. So he simply didn’t know what to tell her.

“Wife, I should call you wife now, my lady…” he muttered, searching his brain for something he might say to her.

She cast him a bitter smile.

“You can call me whatever you please, my lord. You’ve made it clear you want me for your chattel. So – here I am. Your chattel. To do with as you wish.”

He nearly flinched at the coldness in her words. She went on in the same disdainful, mocking voice.

“I’d lie on the bed with my legs spread for you, if I could, in order to submit as a good wife should, but since you saw fit to chastise my bottom soundly, I find myself unable to do such. I’ve seen beasts couple though, dogs and horses, and since men are not so different from beasts, I can guess the position would be right for coupling.”

He widened his eyes at her as she went to prop her elbows on the bed, thrusting her bottom to him and offering him a perfect view, not only of her well spanked behind, but of her pink quim.

“I reckon it is coupling you have in mind, my lord. So, here I am,” she said, in a mocking voice. “You can mount me if you wish.”

Deep lust blazed inside him, and he barely contained his impulse of doing just as she asked, thrusting inside her roughly from behind. But there was also fierce anger mingled with lust. She was adding further insult to the ones she’d previously bestowed upon him. It was more than plain she was mocking him.

“I see now I was wrong to spare the switch,” he found himself snarling in irritation.

“You are within your rights to use it now,” she countered calmly, still maintaining the position that had become maddening to him.

It was a lovely view – the red, lush bottom she was thrusting towards him, and the pink sex he craved.

He willed himself to be calm, weighing what he should do next. She didn’t seem to fear the switch, although, he knew, if he were to fetch one and use it, he’d reduce her to sobbing in a matter of moments, as her bottom was still tender from the spanking she’d received in the Hall. Certainly, he could do so, but that wouldn’t change things between them. She’d resent him even more, and, at this moment, in spite of his anger with her, he found he didn’t wish her to resent him. He lusted for her, and he wanted her to welcome him inside her.

He frowned upon her well spanked bottom. The position she’d adopted might, after all, provide a solution to his conundrum.

“I’ve spanked you well, my lady,” he said, knowing a proud woman like her would find his words humiliating. “But maybe not well enough…” he added softly. “It’s best I test for myself if my handiwork will suffice or if you need more.”

In spite of his earlier irritation, he had no intention of spanking her again tonight. She’d had enough, and she’d been through enough. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t use his earlier spanking to bring her where he wanted.

Without giving her time to change position, he came behind her and gently placed his hand on her reddened behind. It was warm to the touch.

“Nice and warm. I’ve done a thorough job of it, it seems,” he told her lightly, as he caressed her tender cheeks.

It was at that moment she moaned. Bertran frowned. Was that a gasp of pain or a true moan of longing? It had sounded like a true moan of longing to him, but maybe his ears had deceived him. He softly caressed the crown of her reddened buttocks, and there it was again, that moan, which sounded very much like longing.

“Just stop,” she told him in a strained voice.

“Are you in so much pain?” Bertran asked in some concern.

It was the first spanking he’d delivered, after all. And, in spite of his care not to use his full strength, he might have been too harsh in disciplining his new wife.

“Nnn…Yes,” she replied.

Bertran didn’t miss her hesitation though. A slow smile curved his lips as he bestowed another, feather-light caress on her rounded buttocks.

This time she took a deep breath, stirring a little under his touch. His smile broadened, as he realised they might not be as ill-matched as he’d thought at first. He’d been aroused by the spanking he’d delivered, while she seemed to have become aroused by the spanking she’d received. But maybe it was so with all healthy males and females – there’d been a strange intimacy in the punishment. A kind of sharing, in spite of the public place he’d done it in. So maybe it was no wonder they were both aroused – he’d held and touched her already, even if not for caressing, but for chastisement. Still, it had been holding and touching. He knew himself not to be ill favoured, and he’d perceived her green gaze on the length of him when they’d undressed him for the bedding. She might protest, but it was becoming plain to him she was not as indifferent to this coupling as she’d proclaimed herself to be.

“Are you a maiden?” he asked her bluntly, now burning to touch her in that even sweeter spot between her legs, just to see if her sex was wet and eager for him already.

She gave an outraged gasp, yet she didn’t leave her position.

“I’ve never dishonoured myself!” she told him in a dignified voice.

At this moment, Bertran would truly not have cared for her state. He wanted her too fiercely, and already knew he would have this marriage stand. His king and his family wanted the match. And he was already taken with the bride, despite her arrogance.

He sighed, now gently turning her to face him. If she was a maiden, then he should be mindful of her innocence.

“Since it is your first time, it would be unseemly to couple thus,” he told her in a patient voice, gazing into her wide green eyes which no longer looked defiant but slightly anguished. “If I thrust inside you from behind, I would tear through and cause you more pain than necessary. It is not something I wish.”

She widened her eyes at him.

“Isn’t it? You seemed not to care about the pain you caused me in the Hall. In fact, I’m certain you rejoiced in it!” she told him in a voice laced with anger.

He sighed.

“That was a punishment. Our wedding night should not be a punishment for you,” he told her.

* * *

Alicia debated within herself,trying hard to keep her head clear. Oh, the fiend was comely, and she hadn’t failed to notice his proud cock when they’d undressed him. She was a wicked, sinful woman for certain, because the moment she’d glanced upon it, she’d wished it inside her. What a vile, depraved creature she was! And when he’d shamefully touched her spanked bottom, she’d nearly swooned with the rapture of mingled pleasure and pain.

She narrowed her eyes at the fiend. He seemed sincere in his desire to be gracious to her when he claimed his husbandly rights. And she knew there’d be no return from this. It was either this marriage or the prospect of a bleak convent, since the king had been angered enough. Eleanor did not seem inclined to protect her, and Alicia very much doubted the king would allow her to make another match if there was an annulment of this one. She’d always longed to cradle babes in her arms, so the convent was not something she wished. Besides, she saw herself as a creature who took healthy pleasure in worldly things, not in holy endeavours. A convent life would not suit her at all. It would have to be the fiend then, though she knew she’d have no easy life with a husband set on chastising her at all turns to make her mind him.

She heaved her own deep sigh, in response to the one Sir Bertran had heaved earlier.

“Fine,” she found herself muttering. “This night need not be a punishment for either of us.”

He smiled at her and she stared at him in astonishment. It was the first time he was doing so, and she nearly melted under that smile. He was even more comely when he smiled, the beast. He looked upon her with his hazel eyes.

“I’m glad you see reason. And I’ll be certain to find great enjoyment in our coupling. You’re very comely, wife, but I’m sure you already know that,” he told her softly.

She harrumphed. She supposed her looks were tolerable enough, but she’d never considered herself comely, not like the fair, blue-eyed ladies with their delicate, graceful demeanour and manners. And he’d be wrong to think he’d be able to subdue her into a meek, docile woman who swooned at the first sign of hardship.

“Let us dispense with honeyed words,” she told him, recalling he’d not shown her any sweetness when she’d lain defenceless across his lap. “There is no need of such between us.”

He gave her an appraising look, as his hand slowly began to caress the contour of her cheek. Like earlier, she felt surprised a man who’d spanked her so hard could be so gentle.

“You’re still not happy with our match,” he said, as his fingers were caressing her, now sliding down the sensitive side of her neck.

She laughed incredulously.

“You’ve humiliated me in front of everyone! They’ll talk of it for years to come! Lady Alicia’s blazing red bottom! And you’re asking me if I’m unhappy with the match?”

He shrugged, and she held her breath as his hand slid lower, slowly descending and moving away the long tresses of hair that were covering her left breast. Alicia had been too incensed to care for modesty, but now she keenly recalled she was standing stark naked in front of him, and she belatedly blushed. Fiercely.

“I reckon bruised pride and a sore bottom can heal after all. Don’t you?” he eventually said, as he began to caress her nipple. The heel of his palm moved in circles, brushing it until it became a hard, aroused pebble.

She felt a deep stab of pleasure inside her quim, akin to the sweet ache she’d experienced when he’d caressed her bottom. She didn’t answer him, too stunned with the way she was acting around this man. Like a true wanton. No wonder he’d asked her if she was still a maiden. Her behaviour was certainly brazen.

“I think it’s time for a kiss, my lady,” he said in the same soft voice, and he didn’t wait for her acquiescence, capturing her lips with his.

There was a wonderful, wet breathlessness to the kiss she just loved, as much as she loved the feel of his body pressed against hers. But, after a while, she found herself craving more. Since he was still clad in his fur-lined robe and she was stark naked, she broke the kiss, reaching for the cord of his robe.

“You’re bold, wife,” he muttered, cocking an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged, reconciling the fact she was indeed brazen. But it had never been in her nature to be shy. She’d shouldered the burden of a big estate since a young age with little help from her father. There’d been no room for shyness or hesitation.

She untied the cord of the robe and stared at his long, aroused cock. Because she was a maiden, her father had not allowed her to help in the bathing of their male guests, so she was not familiar with the male body. But she’d heard the whispered comments in the bedchamber during the bedding ceremony, and she’d had occasion to see for herself. The fiend was well favoured, that was certain. His long cock was now prodding at her belly, stiff and hard, and she couldn’t help it. She touched it lightly. It stirred.

He took a deep breath, then captured her lips hungrily, pulling her to him. His robe was entirely discarded during their embrace and she had the satisfaction of pressing herself against the bare, hard muscle of his body.

He broke the kiss, drawing away from her and raking a hand through his brown hair.

“Oh, wife, I think you’ll be the undoing of me,” he whispered.

He then lowered her on the bed, and she whimpered as he did so. Her bottom was still sore, and it was still painful to lie down on it. She glared at him, recalling he was responsible for it, yet that shameful, ignoble ache took hold of her nether parts. She was now gushing wet.

“Just raise your hips,” he told her, coming above her, to prop himself on his haunches. “It will be less painful.”

She frowned at him, but did as he bid her. She raised her hips trying to keep her bottom from plopping against the bed. His right hand came between them, and he touched her shamelessly between her legs. She moaned deeply, as his fingers found her sticky wetness.

“Jesu, you’re gushing wet already…” he muttered, and it seemed to her he was incredulous.

She blushed, now knowing for certain he thought her a wanton woman.

He took hold of her hips, and she abandoned all modesty as she felt his hard cock brush against her slick entrance.

“Will you impale me now?” she asked him rather breathlessly, recalling the ribald joke one of the guests had made.

She supposed she should feel afraid. Instead, she felt her heart thumping and her sex even slicker with moisture.

“Oh, I will, wife. I will,” he said in a laboured voice, and he swiftly embedded himself inside her, tearing through the barrier of her maidenhead.

There was pain, and for a moment that pain burnt fiercely, but, truth be told, it was less than the burn she’d felt in her bottom when he’d spanked her. He remained embedded within her, kissing away a tear of pain that had run down the corner of her eye.

“It will go away. Soon,” he whispered soothingly.

He was proved right. The pain was indeed soon replaced by a pleasurable ache, and she found herself raising her hips to meet his thrusts as he began to slide in and out of her. Her sore bottom made her arch her back and meet the rhythm of his thrusts, and she soon noted the fiend perceived this and began to touch her bottom so she’d raise her hips to him as he thrust in. She suppressed a curse on her lips seized by both pleasure and pain. The fiend was making use of the sting of the spanking he’d delivered, in order to increase his pleasure in coupling. Yet Alicia came to understand he was not only increasing his pleasure but also her own. Soon she forgot to resent him, and the pain in her bottom was utterly forgotten as the throb in her quim became rapture. So much rapture. Alicia had never felt so, not even when she’d shamelessly touched herself between her legs in her bedchamber. Yet she knew the rapture for what it was. It was heavenly bliss. And as she shouted her unrestrained joy, she saw the fiend bestow his comely smile upon her. Kissing her lips ardently, he began to thrust inside her faster and deeper, then came to spend his sticky seed.

When she was able to come back to herself, Alicia attempted to glare at him, as he was lying by her side, spent, still smiling his comely smile. Yet she understood the fiend had not used her ill. Instead, he’d been mindful of her innocence and had given her pleasure. He’d bedded her well and had behaved honourably.

After she’d cleaned herself between her legs, Alicia lay beside her new husband, on her belly, feeling exhaustion soon taking its toll. This day had proved the worst day of her life. Yet… she began to doze off, dimly thinking this bedding had been the most pleasurable thing of her life. How could such a foul day feel so fair at the same time?