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“I don’t… think I can.”
“Are you questioning my vow?” Jobek scowled at her. “That is a great insult.”
She looked at Tandor, but he stared back at her expectantly.
Submission. This was the final test. She could either submit willingly or Jobek would take control. She’d had a glimpse of that option and hated every minute of it.
Trembling, mouth completely dry, she lowered her forearms to the bed and presented her backside to Jobek. “You promise this will be different?”
“This will be very different,” he assured her.
“All right. I’m trusting you.” She rested her forehead on her folded arms and hid behind her hair. She prided herself on being feisty, taking on challenges the other conduits wouldn’t even consider. She didn’t want anyone to see how afraid she was right now.
Warm lips pressed against the small of her back and Ansley gasped.
“You are my mate, Ansley,” Jobek’s tone was much warmer, the autocratic snap momentarily gone. “I would rather cut out my heart than harm you.”
The melodramatic claim was so unexpected that it made her smile. “I’ll try to relax, but that’s not a comforting visual.”
He chuckled and stroked her back and sides for a few moments. By the time he straightened, she was relaxed and ready for the next set of challenges.
“This implement is called anoratel.”
She heard a soft swooshing sound but didn’t look to see what he held. If he was going to ‘stripe’ her bottom with it, she’d rather not see what it looked like.
“When swung with enough force it can be extremely painful. That is not what I intend. I want to awaken your senses and draw blood into the area so your pleasure will be heightened when I fuck you.”
She refused to even think about the second part. She had yet to survive the first.
He lightly swatted her right cheek with theorateland then the left. It stung, but as he’d promised, the pain was not severe. “Controllers are territorial.” The swats continued as he spoke. “We like to ensure that others know what belongs to us.” Were the stings supposed to distract her from his words or were the words meant to distract her from the pain?
Theoratellanded with more force this time. She gasped and wiggled her hips, unable to suppress the restless energy.
“Hold still,” he cautioned. “I do not want your movements to affect my aim.”
She concentrated on breathing, slow, deep breaths. Each burning smack jolted her senses but she stubbornly held the position. Forcing herself not to move focused her mind on what she was feeling. Her entire bottom felt hot and a faint throb warned that she’d have some trouble sitting down for a while. But her breasts felt unusually heavy and her core was starting to ache again.
“Spread your legs, pet.” Jobek ordered. “I want to see how long it takes for this to make you wet.”
She was already aroused, likely wet. Still, she didn’t see a benefit in refusing. They had both seen every inch of her flesh, and they all knew being disciplined turned her on. She scooted her knees farther apart, hoping he’d push his fingers or tongue into her pussy.
A finger traced her slit, the touch gone nearly as fast as it registered.
“You’re just barely wet. How disappointing.”
“Use the other end on her,” Tandor suggested. “She needs something more intense.”
“I agree, but I’m not going to cane her. My cock will be intense enough.”
They might cane her if she misbehaved. The thought was terrifying. Director Ratan liked to discipline the occupants of Still Water Farm during the evening meal. He generally used the belt off his pants, but occasionally he would use a bundle of birch branches or a supple willow switch. She had always escaped with a belt spanking, but she could remember the shrill screams and the vivid red marks left behind by the branches and the switch.
Jobek brought theoratelupward and caught the lower curve of her bottom. Ansley cried out sharply. The pain had been brighter, more cutting than before.
“That really hurt,” she told him angrily.
He swatted the other side, targeting the same area of her cheek. “Then lose yourself in the pain and let your senses take over.”
She relaxed her muscles and waited for the next strike of the unseen whip. When it came, she sank into the pain, letting the intensity take her where it would. He swung again and again, each swat hard yet intentional. Her nerves buzzed with excess energy and her skin felt hot and tight.
