Loki Renard

He is so handsome. I can’t stop marveling at it. They both are, in a soft kind of way. I wonder how they came to be here. Most men in the wild have to be rough and dangerous to survive, but these men are not rough. They basically wear dresses. They remind me of monks.

I try to get up. He pushes me back down by my shoulder. I’m still not wearing anything more than my underwear, but neither Mattias nor Elias looks at my half naked body with any kind of hunger. I find that strange, almost unsettling.

Elias feeds me like a baby, taking a spoonful at a time and slipping it into my mouth. My cheeks burn with embarrassment, but he could feed me hanging upside down from my toes if it meant I got more of this delicious food into my body.

“You’ve had enough,” Elias says, putting the spoon down far too soon.

I disagree. I reach for a handful of fruit and shove it into my face. Most of it smears around my lips, but some of it gets in, and that is all that matters.

“That’s enough.” Mattias grabs me from behind and lifts me up and away from the food. I don’t want to be taken away. I want more. The last time I had meat it was lizard meat and that’s never good. This is some kind of bovine. And I want more. So much more.

“Settle down,” he says, carrying me out of the room as I flail and wail. In the midst of my demands, a sharp slap to my rear distracts me from the demands of my belly.

“Ow!” I shout with complaint as he sets me down on my feet in another room. “Why did you do that?”

He takes a small piece of cloth, then my hand and begins wiping my fruit-covered fin‍

wriggling around until we are all covered in the now dirty bathwater.

“Trissa, if you don’t settle down and take this bath nicely, I’m going to have to discipline you,” Mattias says, brushing water from his face.

“I don’t want to!”

“Get the strap, Elias.”

“No!” I shout the word. The strap sounds bad. I am taking a real dislike to this Mattias. He is forceful and stern and everything he tells me to do runs completely contrary to my natural instincts.

Elias does as he’s told. The strap is a foot-long length of leather with little grooves cut into it at one end. Mattias thanks him and lays it down near the bath where I can see it.

“This will hurt if I have to use it on your bottom. So settle down and take your bath nicely.”

I have no idea how to take a bath nicely. I know how to splash in a creek, or run around in the rain, but neither of those things needed to be done nicely.

Mattias reaches into the water and eases my underwear down. It feels strange to be touched this way by a man, especially one who doesn’t grope or grasp or grab at me like the ones in the market did.

I look at him, curious.

“Why are you so different from the other men?”

Elias shakes his head a little, and I wonder if the question is as wrong as drinking bathwater.

“You know nothing of the world, do you, girl?”

“I know a lot! I know how to catch lizards and gut their poison sacs out. I know how to start a fire that can burn all night long. I know how to get a parrot to give me my bra back. I know...”

“I mean of the civilized world, you wild little thing,” Mattias sighs.

“The civilized world, where men take women like they aren’t even people? That world?”

“You are more fortunate than most,” he says. “You are worth a great deal. You will be sold to the highest bidder, the richest man. You may join one of the great harems, bear the offspring of the new kings...”

“Ew, gross, no thanks.”

He looks at me and shakes his head. “You are in dire need of thorough education.”

“I am in dire need of escape.”

“Shackles it shall be,” he declares, pulling a plug at the end of the bath. I watch dirty water swirl down the drain, forever lost. Such a waste.

He fills the bath again, with me in it. I watch the pure, clear liquid flowing around my legs, fascinated. How do they do this? I can’t resist scooping some of it up into my mouth. It’s warm, but it’s so damn good. I haven’t tasted water this clear except for a few rare times.

“Stop. Drinking. The. Water.” Mattias interrupts my joy.

I splash it in his face. Droplets run down over his nose and his chin and his cheeks. The effect is comical, and I can’t help but snort in amusement.

“Someone is getting spanked after her bath,” he says calmly.

Those words make the lower part of my stomach clench. Spanked? With that leather strap? That’s probably going to hurt. I resolve to bite him if he tries to do that to me.

When the bath is filled, he takes soap and begins to bathe me properly. His hands roam my body, spreading soap over my curves. It’s not an unpleasant feeling, though I’m not used to anyone else touching me. Since my father died, I’ve been living on my own in the shack he built in the mountains. It’s remote enough that nobody bothers me out there, if you don’t count wolves and the occasional wild cat.

Mattias is stern and bossy, but his touch relaxes me. I find myself sinking down in the tub, letting him take my weight.

“Good girl,” he praises, his hand slowly drifting up my inner thigh.

I feel that clenching sensation again, this time lower still, between my legs. His hand slides away just before it reaches the apex. I am left wondering if he did that on purpose, before his hand slides under my hip and then down my leg and over again to trace the same path, this time all the way up to the core of me. He presses two fingers against my lower lips, a jolt of pure electricity running through me as our eyes meet.

“What are you doing?”

“Does it feel good?”

It does feel good, but I don’t want to admit that. I am a captive of the sheriff. This man has me to get me ready for sale, whatever that means. This is obviously part of it. Making me feel... things.

“

be punished far more thoroughly than this. Best you learn now over my knee.”

undeniable effect on my body

“This is the way of relationships. They are all apologies and forgiveness. When the apologies stop and the forgiveness dries up, that’s when it is truly over. We are not over, Margaret.”

No,” I say.

“Oh, so this doesn’t feel good?” He makes his fingers move very gently in smooth circles over my lips. He moves them away just a little, making currents swirl over my sex. It doesn’t feel good. It feels incredible. I have touched myself before, of course. I have rubbed myself over most of the items in my cabin, but never gotten the courage to do any more. My father never truly explained the mechanics of what a man and a woman do, but I know it is to do with the region Mattias is touching.

“Uhmmm...”

“Tell me the truth, Trissa.”

I bite my lower lip and stay quiet. His motion changes, from the gentle swirls to a long, slow rubbing motion that goes all the way from the golden down above my pubic bone to near my bottom hole. His touch and grip are firmer, more possessive. He is making me feel a way I have never felt before.

With his other arm supporting me in the water, I lean back and let my legs spread. I want more. I want to feel everything I can feel. If I am to be captive, I want pleasure.

“Good girl. Relax,” he murmurs. His voice is low and hypnotic as his fingers begin to spread my lower lips. I feel him tracing the fine folds of my pussy, I feel him trace the very tips of his fingers slipping up and around my clitoris. I feel him slide back down to the little hole I have never explored on my own—and I feel him begin to push against it.

“Ow!” I gasp and tense.

“Easy,” Mattias soothes. “Spread your legs. Relax.”

I do as he says, but when he pushes again, it hurts again. A sharp, stretching pain that

makes me close my legs and growl at him.

“Alright,” he murmurs softly. “We won’t do that.”

He goes back to tending to my outer lips, his fingers dragging lightly over my pussy until the pleasure returns, the warm, spiraling sensation that makes the lower parts of me get tighter and tingle and feel better and better until I am arching in his arms, my hips rising against his hand as he cajoles me toward an orgasm unlike any I have had before.

In the end, his fingers are over my clit, moving in swift little strokes. I try to grasp at the water, but my fingers pass through it and in the end I am left clutching at his arm as if for dear life, panting open-mouthed as he strokes me to orgasm.

“Good girl, let go. There’s a good girl. Let go for Daddy...”

Daddy.

The word is so wrong. But so right. It puts me over the edge as the pleasure reaches a crescendo and bursts over my body, sinking through every part of me.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god,” I cry out as I come, shaking and shuddering in the bath.

“Very good,” Mattias praises me, giving my pussy one last rub and pulling his hand away. “Ready to get dry now?”

I can hardly bring myself to look at him as he helps me out of the bath and wraps me in a big fluffy towel. I’m not entirely certain what just happened. I have gone from a free woman to an item for sale in a matter of hours, and I just had my first orgasm with a man.

Mattias dries me. I let him. Then he takes me through to a bedroom complete with a large, soft-looking bed.

“You will not be given clothing today,” he says. “We will need access to your body during your training. Bend over so I can dry you off fully.”

“I can dry myself.”

His large hands settle on my shoulders, bend me forward, and then I feel a soft towel between my legs, rubbing over my lower lips and running all the way up to my bottom hole. He ignores my complaints and holds me firm while I squirm, taking control of me with a calm, easy practice that lets me know he’s done this many, many times before to many other girls. I wonder how many young women have climaxed on his fingers. And I wonder why I feel a pang of jealousy at imagining that.

When I am thoroughly dry, he lets me up. I am pink and clean and satisfied in a way I have never been before.

“Elias, can you take the towels, please.”

Elias appears and sweeps them away, leaving me alone and naked with Mattias.

What will he do to me now?

He sits down on the edge of the bed and reaches for my hand. I let him take it, not realizing what his plan is for me. He draws me close to the side of his thigh, gives me a gentle tug and I pitch forward over his lap with a surprised gasp.

“Now for that spanking I promised you,” he says in that firm, stern tone.

“What?”

“Girl, when you are sold, if you disobey a man the way you disobeyed me today, you will b

His hand comes down on my ass. Hard. And then it comes down again. And again. The sting is not unbearable, but it is more pain than I want to bear and the more his hand lands, the more the pain builds.

My father threatened to spank me a few times, but he never did. He doted on me. I have never been hurt by way of discipline before, and I don’t like it. The pain is seeping into my blood, making it run hot with energy I cannot control.

My hips are rising, even though they should be sliding away. It’s as if I am arching myself into the slaps, taking them eagerly even though they hurt. I don’t recognize myself in this moment. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t know why I am enjoying what should be nothing but humiliating pain.

“You will obey my orders directly and swiftly,” Mattias lectures me. “You will not talk back, ask questions, or disobey. You will work your hardest to please me at every given moment.”

“Well, that’s not happening,” I mutter.

The spanking stops. Mattias lifts his voice. “Elias, I left that strap in the bathing chamber. Could you get it for me, please?”

“No!”

I try to get up, but he easily holds me down. Elias brings the strap to Mattias, and I feel the deceptively gentle touch of the leather over my heated cheeks as he lays it across my bottom, letting me feel the implement.

“I know you are wild,” he says. “And I know you are not used to doing as you are told. But now, you must. There is too much at stake for

"The magic of love isn't that it makes us invulnerable. It makes us more vulnerable. The magic of love is that it makes what we suffer worthwhile."