Page 63 of The Kingdom of Flames

It is a dance, a courtship of flesh.

Celestine looked up at the dais as many noblemen nodded and murmured their approval. The mood in the air was changing, back to where it had hailed from. Tristien straightened, staring at Celestine, probing her for a reaction.

Donal worked with expert precision. He knew how to work his wife’s flesh, and Celestine blushed when she saw how wet Lady Lapis grew under his silken kisses. More than his whip, his tongue was the true lash. He hurled controlled correction and chastisement in wicked wonder.

“You will do better!” Lord Donal instructed. Lapis groaned under his flail’s touch, her hands straining against her bindings. She was like a bitch in heat, her ass and sex sticking out, trying to bend lower.

“Yes, my lord husband. I will.”

“Swear it.”

Lapis nodded. “I swear it, husband. I shall serve. I’m sorry.”

Donal nodded, coiling his flail. He stepped forth and undid the bindings on his wife. With a snap of his fingers, an attendant brought a robe for the Lady, but he dismissed the girl from draping it on his wife’s shoulders.

Lapis turned to him, her dark pubis proud and slick. Her husband kissed her on her brow like a doted patron proud of his ward.

Applause broke out among the field from the wives and women in their various states of undress. As did the noblemen and landed men upon the dais.

Tristien clapped slowly, giving his approval, his blue eyes fixated upon Celestine.

“You did so well, my love.” Donal took his wife’s head into his chest. “You have done me proud.”

“Thank you, my love,” Lapis murmured, and at that moment, Celestine saw such a tenderness, a trust, and praise between two. What she stared at was a moment built upon decades of marriage, of understanding. She wanted it. At that moment, Celestine knew that this entire dance and its performative ritual had all led to this moment. The sweetness and fierce pride Lord Donal held for his wife Lapis, this tenderness was sweeter because of the lash’s sting.

“Shall we adjourn home?” Donal asked.

Lapis kissed her husband, holding his chin. It was such an interesting dynamic and one that Lapis steered. Celestine saw that now.

“Let us finish the day.” Lapis turned to the ladies and men in the field. “Come now, we are nearly done!”

Several shouts of agreement broke out. Lord Donal inspected his wife, but she brushed him off. “Such light kisses, husband. You know I prefer you even deeper in my flesh.”

“Then I’ll have to show you later.”

“I must get these whelps in a hurry then,” Lapis said with a grin. She walked back to Celestine, her body striped with light red marks.

“Are you alright?” Celestine asked as she took her under an arm.

“In truth, I need him in me now. But this slow torture, it’s exquisite. The denial.”

“You were moaning under his lash.”

Lapis nodded, walking with her to the far field to clear the last section. “My mouth is much filthier, as is his in our private corrections. He is a good man.”

Celestine shook her head. “This is a strange place.”

Lapis grabbed her hand. “But it is exquisite, Celestine. It’s not the lash, but it’s denial. The space between blows that is the true agony. Punishment in the hands of the man that owns you. And yours upon him.”

“Does he really possess you?”

Lapis smiled, playing the part of the elder matron to the young woman. “We all own each other in our ways. All I can tell you is to enjoy it. Enjoy every moment, every denial, every binding. Time is the cruelest lash from which there is no recovery.”

A song took up among the women in the field. The women murmured a lovely lilting shanty, with bawdy lyrics and a strong chorus as they hefted bales of wheat and hay to the wagons. Celestine looked back often, seeing Tristien and Lord Donal sitting close by. He had done Tristien a great service in saving the afternoon.

The more Celestine worked and labored, the song weaving a hypnotic trance behind her eyes, the more she wanted Tristien. The denial had been so prolonged so far, and she felt her body ready for him.

I must be bold; I must have him on the carriage ride home. Down low where no one can see us, and bring his wrath.

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