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When he was done, he threw down the belt and cuddled her into his arms. She threw her arms around his neck, muttering apologies as her cries began to lessen. He held her, naked in his lap, until her sobs quieted. He met her glassy eyes, and told her she was forgiven and that he loved her.
Eiotan helped her stand and dressed her. Pulling her panties back on, he then pulled her chemise over her head. Her dress came last, and he laced her back into it. He straightened her mussed-up hair and turned her to face him.
“There’s my good girl again,” he whispered, smiling softly. She hugged him close and he held her. Then she remembered Cortés was there and quickly let go of Eiotan. She brushed the tears, from her cheeks as her face reddened relentlessly.
“Bravo, Lord Eiotan!” Cortés exclaimed. “Now that is a proper way to take a lady in hand! And look at that blushing face! Nearly as red as her delightful little bottom!”
Eiotan pulled Ayala toward his body.
“Every lady needs a spanking sometime, lets them know who’s boss,” he said, feeding into Cortés’ delight. “Now come, let’s head back to camp. I’m starving!”
“Agreed! Let us make you some delicious Spanish food!”
Eiotan helped Ayala mount her horse. As her freshly spanked bottom touched the saddle, she hissed as it awoke the sting. Cortés noticed and smiled.
“Let that be a lesson to you, little miss. Spanked bottoms hurt while riding a horse.”
She blushed fiercely, gritting her teeth, and sat back onto the saddle. Ayala took the reins, led her horse back toward the camp, and refused to wait for them. The men followed her, murmuring about how feisty a woman she was.
Chapter Thirteen
Upon their return to camp,; the horses were led away to be brushed, watered, and fed. Ayala and the two men were led into an extravagant tent, with a wooden dining table fully laden with plates of food. There were a multitude of fruits and vegetables, and in the center of the table was a platter with a cooked pig atop it, a bright red apple placed in its mouth. They sat down to eat dinner, and were served quickly. Wine poured freely as the men joked and laughed as though they were becoming fast friends.
Ayala smiled and laughed at the right times, her bottom still sore in the hard wooden chair. Much of the jokes were at her expense, about her behavior and her past punishment. She blushed constantly. Soon enough, she asked to be excuse in order to relieve herself, and was led out of the tent.
The servant led her a ways away to a lone tent at the edge of camp. She made her way inside and quickly did her business, feeling the wine begin to go to her head. She straightened her dress and left the tent, eager to get back to Lord Eiotan.
As she emerged from the tent, her small smile quickly disappeared. A group of soldiers were waiting for her, and the servant was nowhere to be seen. She whimpered and did not even have the time to scream before they were on her. A hand covered her mouth and another grabbed her arms, her legs. She struggled as much as she could, but was quickly overpowered. Fear clenched her stomach. What was going on? What were these men going to do to her?
A rag was forced into her mouth and tied around her neck. Her wrists were tied behind her back. The men then carried her off in the direction of an ornate tent, the largest in the camp.
Inside the tent, plush rugs were laid on the ground. A large four-poster bed was in the center. A dark red quilt was accented with plush embroidered red pillows. Ayala was deposited in front of the bed, on top of one of the rugs. The men left her alone and walked out of the tent. Her wide eyes took in the grandeur. Riches were on every table, from jewelry to golden goblets, to the beautiful fabrics draped throughout the tent. This could only be Cortés’ tent.
She should have never gone off on her own and should have stayed with Lord Eiotan. Ayala tried to free her hands, but they were held fast. She kept working her bonds, until she spotted a knife made of gold. Standing was difficult, but she managed. Walking over to the table, she was thankful to the gods that her feet weren’t tied as well. She picked up the golden knife by turning around and grabbing it with her hands behind her back.
She heard voices outside and rushed back the spot where the soldiers had dumped her, placing the knife underneath the bed. Shadows moved outside the tent, and she watched as the entrance was pushed aside. Cortés himself came sauntering inside.
The look on his face was terrifying. His grin looked dangerous, ravenous for her. His eyes took her in, tied and gagged on his floor. His eyes hardened, and a deadly calm came over him.
“Finally, I have you all to myself,” he said. He reminded her of a venomous snake, ready to strike at any moment.
He forced her to stand, grabbed at her dress and tore it, and then her chemise down the front, freeing her breasts to his gaze. Cold fear raced down her spine. He tore her dress further and pulled it off of her, destroying it. He spun her around and forced her face-down onto his bed. With one hand, he pushed the remnants of her chemise up her back and pulled her panties down her hips to her knees.
“Look at this, still red from your spankings. I can’t wait to beat you with my belt myself. It was sheer torture having to watch him spank you, when you are meant to be over my knees, not his.”
Ayala screamed into the gag as his hands rubbed at her bottom. She fought and kicked, trying to get away from him. Her gag finally came loose and she screamed. He stuffed it back into her mouth and began to spank her.
She fought with all she had, crying out at the force of his large hands. She spit her gag back out and shouted, looking back at him, anger seeping out of every pore.
“Where’s Lord Eiotan, you bastard?”
“Oh, you naughty girl. Listen to that language. I’m going have to punish you for that. We escorted Lord Eiotan back to the city. He was none too pleased to be without his wife,” he said maliciously. He undid his belt and looped it together, a deadly grin taking over his features. “Now come, I believe I have to punish you for that mouth of yours.”
He brought the belt down and Ayala squeezed her eyes shut, gasping as a line of fire slapped across her bottom. She fought and kicked, catching him in the shin and legs.
He spanked her hard with his belt, and each strike brought tears to her eyes. But this wasn’t ok. She hadn’t submitted to this. There was no love in his strikes, only the want to hurt her. She could hear his snickers of delight each time the belt connected with her bare flesh.
He continued bringing down the belt on her backside until her foot connected with what was between his legs.
