Chapter 11 ~ Sophie Von Bayern

 

My eyes were fixed on the Lion. He stared at me with an evil grin. “I think we shall begin with the punishment,” he said, stepping closer to me.

“Please, don’t,” I said in a whisper.

“You’ve left me with no choice. Besides, once again, you forgot to call me your lord husband. So much for you being a quick learner. Remove your clothing, wife. I won’t accept shyness. You’re a widow. You know what is expected of you.” He was turned away from me, looking at the contraption he had made as he removed his clothing.

With shaking hands, I obeyed him, removing my clothing as much as I could without his help.

He was completely naked when he turned to me.

“I can’t remove the rest on my own, my lord husband.” I tried not to, but a few tears spilled down my cheeks. His eyes followed them as they dripped down, landing on the tops of my breasts.

“Turn around, wife,” he said coldly.

I obeyed because I didn’t want him to watch me cry. Turning away from him would suit my needs as well. In fact, I wished that fewer candles were burning in the room.

I could feel his fingers on my naked skin. They brushed against me where my stays were bound at the top of my back. He took hold of my stays, opening the bow. Then he took hold of them and pulled hard, tightening them and knocking the air out of me as my body jerked back against his broad chest, making my rump bump against his … manhood.

My hands went to my breasts as I tried to regain my breath. Cruelly, he rid me of my clothes.

With my back pressed against his body, he marched me over to his contraption. He pushed me down over it, forcing my wrists into the leather bits that were attached to the wooden frame. He buckled them in tightly. My fingers stretched out, trying to grasp for something that wasn’t there. Perhaps, it was my freedom.

Once my hands were in place, I felt his body move away from my back. I took that chance to take a deep breath.

I jumped when his fingers brushed against the delicate skin on my ankle, making me lift up my foot. His thick hand grabbed onto my ankle and forced it into another leather bond.

When he grabbed onto my last free limb, I expected it to be tied down. He didn’t disappoint me. I was forced to stand on the tips of my toes as I was stretched over the rack.

I knew that I was tied down tightly, but still I tested the leather that bound me into place. I couldn’t escape. There was no hope.

“We’ll start with your punishment.” I heard him lifting up his clothing and dropping his sword to the floor with a loud clatter. I heard something cutting through the air before pain exploded on my backside.

I screamed out in surprise. Before my scream was finished, another blow landed. “It’s odd, isn’t it. You turned me down for marriage, and yet, here we are anyway.” Another blow landed.

Was he hitting me with the side of his sword? Would he kill me? I fought to get out of my bonds. I looked over my shoulder to see what he was using to punish me. I was relieved to see that it was the thick belt that held his sword in place around his waist and not the sword itself. The sting felt as if it were the sword, heavy and sharp.

I watched his arm lift up. The belt swung down on me again.

The bite of the belt had me whimpering in pain that I couldn’t hide. I was now crying openly, giving him what I swore that I wouldn’t give, the knowledge that he was truly hurting me, and that it was more than I could take.

The belt landed ten times before my husband reached around and cupped my breast. “Thank me for correcting your mistakes,” he whispered in my ear as his fingers pinched my nipple.

“Thank you, my lord husband,” I said between my sobs. I had reached a point that I would say anything and do anything to get him to stop hurting me.

“Very good, my dearest wife. I think I shall reward you now.”

His words sent a chill down my spine. What could he possibly mean by that?

I felt his fingertips just above the leather on my left ankle. They glided upwards as my leg shook in fear. I had no idea what he would do to me now. I knew that it would hurt. Unbearable pain is what the ladies back home had whispered. It wouldn’t be like it had been with Frederick.

His fingertips barely touched me as they traveled up the inside of my legs. Nevertheless, I shook. I wasn’t positive that it was in fear, or if was only me reacting to his touch. As his fingers rose up, I fought against my restraints harder than when he punished me.

“Easy,” he spoke to me as if I were a spooked horse. His fingers reached the area that only Frederick had touch. I tried to close my legs and press my knees together, but my legs were still spread apart so he could punish me. Now, my body was open to whatever he wanted to do with me.

“Easy, girl,” he repeated. His fingertips prodded me between my hidden lips, making me jump and fight my restraints again. “Give me what is mine, wife.” His fingers curled and straightened along my opening. Then he reached my hooded bud, the area that had felt so good when Frederick touched it or bumped against it with his body. My legs shook again. I veered up as far as the restraints would allow, fighting to take what I had to.

“You’re wet, very wet. Does that mean you’re eager for me?” he asked in a teasing tone.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. “Would you rather that I punish you again?” he asked in a sweet voice as I closed my eyes to the pleasure of his touches. I hated myself for liking it.

“Yes, my lord husband.”

“What? You would rather that I punish you than pleasure you?” he asked in pretend disbelief.

“Yes, my lord husband.” I couldn’t, in good conscience, tell him that I would rather he touch me where his fingers now were than suffer a punishment. Liking what he was doing to me made me deserve the punishment.

In an instant, his fingers slipped away from me. He picked up his sword belt and swung it across the back of my thighs. I screamed out so loudly that the entire castle must have heard me.

Seven more blows fell. Each landed on the back of my thighs. The pain was unimaginable. I couldn’t hold back either my tears or my screams.

He stopped and stood directly behind me. “Do you want to know why I’m punishing you?” he asked me, rubbing his hand over my sore thighs. “Because you lied to me.” I could hear that he was smiling. “I promised to make an honest woman of you, and I will. Every time I catch you lying, you will feel this belt, striking against you until you learn to be honest.” His words had started out soft, but he was unable to hide his anger in the end. “So I ask you again, would you rather that I punish you or pleasure you.” His hand slid between my thighs, parting my lips and stroking me again. “I can feel that you’re wet. You want me. What should I do? I’ll obey you,” he said, teasing me.

I turned my head to the side and buried it in my arm. I knew what I had to say, and what I then had to endure. How long would this go on?

He laid his chest down over me again. “I’m waiting for an answer.”

“Punishment,” I replied.

“You are a stubborn girl,” he told me. Had I heard admiration in his voice? His fingers were still moving between my legs.

“Please stop. I choose punishment.”

“Then you shall have punishment.” He lifted his body off of mine, making me sigh with relief for a moment.

I braced myself for his belt. He didn’t disappoint me. With my buttocks and my thighs already punished, he aimed everywhere, sometimes to the thighs, sometimes to my buttocks, and sometimes directly in the middle. When he hit me there, I called out to God to help me.

“Why didn’t you think about God when your family declared war on me?” he asked me.

I was in so much pain that I couldn’t have understood him correctly.

“I doubt that you’ll be able to sit down at all tomorrow. You are going to suffer. And believe me I will give you pleasure yet tonight, and you will willingly give it to me.”

“Never,” I told him.

“You’ll see. My dear wife.” He acted as if he were so certain. He snapped his belt at me again, making me tuck my hips in and arch my back. I sobbed and cried. That had landed just above my right knee, and the belt had wrapped around my leg. He had to pull it away, scratching it over the weals.

“Please, release me. Please, I’ll kill myself. I promise I will.”

“You will do no such thing. That is a great and terrible sin. Sofie, you may never say such a thing,” he scolded me.

“It would be better for you if I were no more.” I wept at the thought of being dead with my head on a spike.

“I won’t let you go. You will stay by my side for very many years.”

“But I’ve done you no harm.” I protested.

“How can you say that? It’s another lie. Your family refused my marriage proposal, and then you attacked my villages. How dare you lie to me?”

“I did nothing, to no one. You started the war. You were the one who couldn’t let us live in peace.”

“I’ll belt the liar in you out of your soul, Sofie. One day, you’ll thank me for it.” He used the belt, crossing my cheeks left to right. His blows weren’t as hard as they had been before, but a feather’s caress would have been too painful for me to take at that moment.

When he stopped, he reached between my legs again, making me tremble. “I choose punishment,” I said in a whisper, crying as I spoke.

“You’ve had enough. It’s time for pleasure.”

“No. I choose punishment,” I gulped, knowing that I couldn’t take pleasure.

“I choose, not you.” He buried his face in my hair. I could feel his entire length as he leaned down over me. My heart was racing. His fingers were dancing between my legs. I lowered my head and squinted my eyes shut.

I wanted to tell him not to touch me. But I knew that I couldn’t tell him to stop. His touches already had me willing and wanting to accept pleasure.

I told myself that I was his wife. I belonged to him. He could touch me however he wanted to. But why did I like it so much? Why didn’t I want him to stop touching me?

I hated him more than any other person in the world. I shouldn’t like his touches. He was right when he said that he would get me to hate myself.

The heat from my punishment, the heat of his body lying on mine and the heat between my legs had me panting.

“Sofie, do you like my touch?” he asked me. “Don’t lie to me,” he warned me.

“No, my lord husband,” I replied in an uncertain whisper.

His hands cupped my breasts, tenderly at first, but then he pinched my nipples so tightly that I pushed back into his chest, trying to get away from him. “I warned you not to lie. You only get wet when you like something.”

“Please stop,” I begged, turning my head to the side so I didn’t have to look at him.

“I won’t stop touching you until you beg me to touch you.” His words confused me in my current state. They didn’t make sense at all.

One hand remained on my breast, but the other returned to the area between my legs. My legs trembled, and I fought to get free of my restraints.

My jaw slacked opened as I fought to breathe. He was holding me so tightly. I couldn’t escape the sensations. They were building up into something more as I whimpered in a different kind of pain.

My hips moved ever so slightly, wanting to press my bud into his fingers as he relentlessly circled it and stroked it.

My breathing was heavy and loud as I shook. I felt that I was getting dangerously close to something, but I didn’t know what it was.

His hand moved away, he released my breast and lifted his body off of mine. I was alone.

Why had he stopped? He went over to his desk and sat down. He was writing something. Was he setting me aside? It was still his right. The marriage wasn’t consummated. Was he trying to shame me before he handed me over to a convent?

I sobbed as I thought about the good sisters taking me in. They would see my body and know what had happened. They would know that I hadn’t pleased my husband and think the worst of me.

I was filled with shame.

After a while, my core slowly began to relax. The moment I was able to breathe easy, I heard his chair scratch across the floor. Then I heard his feet, walking across the wooden boards.

His hands reached between my legs, parting them. “You’re wet, but not as wet as before.”

I closed my eyes. One touch from him, and I was back to where I was from before. I could feel my insides quivering. I could feel a wetness gathering, worse than before. What was he doing to me?

“Do you like my touch, wife?”

“No, my lord husband.”

“What don’t you like about it? Tell me.”

“I don’t like anything about it. I know you hate me. I don’t understand why you married me. You could put me into a convent.”

“The moisture between your legs tells me that you would never be happy in a convent. You need a man, a real one. One who isn’t afraid to bend you over and tie you down and give you exactly what you deserve.”

I didn’t feel that I deserved anything that he had ever done to me, but his strokes were too constant for me to allow me to speak. I moaned out instead, hating myself for it.

“I’m going to make you delirious with passion.”

“How?” I asked.

“By denying you,” he replied.

“Denying me what?” I asked him.

“What you need most,” he replied.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will before morning breaks.” His fingers stroked faster. I was shaking so much that the structure that I was strapped to shook with me.

“This feels good, doesn’t it, wife?” he teased me. “Tell me how much you like this.”

“I don’t like it. Please take me to a room and lock me in. I won’t bother you with my sight. I won’t go into the great hall to eat. I’ll eat in my room. I’ll stay there until the day I die. I promise I will. You’ll never have to lay your eyes on me again.”

“My dear wife, we share not only a room but also a bed. You will never have your own rooms or your own bed. I want you close so I can touch you and talk to you in the middle of the night. And when you need to be punished, you won’t have anywhere to hide except in here.”

“Please, I’m sure you would rest easier without me by your side.”

“It’s quite the other way around. I will only rest easy when you are beside me.” His fingered stroked me harder, so hard that I screamed out in pain. Or was it something else?

Whatever it was, it was too much for my body to take. I fought to break free and moaned out as my hips circled into his fingers.

He chuckled and step away from me. “Now you suffer.” He went back to his desk.

He repeated this several times until placing his hand anywhere on my body had me moaning out. “Please, my lord husband. Please,” I begged him.

“What is it that you want, wife?” he asked me, being cruel to me.

“I don’t know,” I sobbed. I wanted this to be over with, I wanted a warm bath, and I wanted to be alone so I could touch myself without having to stop.

“You have great luck because I know exactly what you need.” I felt his manhood. He was going to take me like the animals made love. He thrust into me.

“Yes,” I called out. That had been what I needed. I needed him inside of me.

Then he pulled out and took a step away from me. “I won’t do the work. To consummate this marriage, you’ll have to be the one to do it. You will push back and move forward while I hold still.” He thrust back into me and held still.

“I know that you’re tired, wife, but this needs to be seen to. Go on now, wife. Push your pretty little rump back towards me.”

I held still, ignoring every pore of my body that told me to push back so he could fill me completely.

I shook as I fought not to obey him, but then he smacked me on my sore thigh. I moved forward and back before I knew what I was doing. I moaned out because I was no longer able to hide the fact that I needed this body inside of me.

“I’m bigger than your husband was, aren’t I?” I could hear pride in his voice.

He was. His girth filled me more than Frederick’s had. Another smack made me groan and move again. The Lion chuckled again and swatted again. He was getting what he wanted. I was the one taking him.

He pulled back making my hips move further to fill myself with him. But I couldn’t stop. I needed something, and I knew that my movements were the only way to get it. I moved faster and faster. I was breathing so loudly that my breaths and moans echoed throughout the room.

He was making noises too. His hands were on my hips, both of them. He had stopped slapping my thigh, but I hadn’t stopped moving back and forth on his manhood. I was consummating our marriage without any help from him.

“I can’t hold still.” He took over, moving for me. He was faster than I was, carrying me higher and higher. I felt as if I were reaching for something, but I didn’t know what.

I whimpered and called out to God, asking him to help me louder then I had bothered God during my punishment.

Why was this harder to take?

“Relax, I want you to come with me.” His body slammed into mine even faster. I felt as if I were close to something that I dearly wanted. My hands formed into fists. My body was shaking, and I raised up on the tips of my toes.

“That’s it. Exactly like that, wife.”

Then, lights burst in front of my eyes. I couldn’t breathe, move or think as my core exploded releasing so much wetness.

My husband called out and held still for a moment. Then he rocked his hips forward. Forcing his penis deeply into my body with several thrusts, giving me his seed. His lips kissed my shoulder as if he were thanking me for giving him his pleasure.

I was still suffering with my pleasure. My body had relaxed against the rack. Wave after wave was still knocking me down, drowning me in a world that wasn’t this one.

He released me from the shackles and lifted me up in his arms. There was a smile on his face as he laid me down in his bed and covered me with his soft blankets. He blew the candles out and wrapped me in his arm.

I didn’t want to be this close to him, but I was too sleepy to mention it.

I fell asleep in his arms.