Free Royal Discipline by Annabel Joseph Page B

the burning, throbbing underside of her bottom...
    “At least you’re kneeling on a cushioned velvet couch,” he said, “and not a pile of uncooked millet, as you probably deserve.” He went to the door and unlocked it, and beckoned in the maid. Violet glanced at Jeannie and then hid her face again. Her humiliation was complete.
    “Your maid shall sit in this chair across from the couch and work on her mending. You are not to speak to her, but rather keep your mind focused on the reasons behind your punishment. If you move from your position for any reason other than to visit the privy, my servant will let me know, and then this same punishment will be repeated for an entire week as a consequence.” He paused in his stern lecture for emphasis. “Do not test me on this.”
    Violet closed her eyes in horror. “Please, no. No, Your Grace.”
    “Very well, then. Before I go, I want to reiterate once more that I expect you to spend your time today thinking about the value of submission, and proper manners, and the gracious acceptance of authority. Do you understand? That’s the entire point of your stay here. I’m trying to teach you, Violet. I suggest you take my instruction to heart.”
    She accepted these words in silent resignation, for all the anger and disgust she felt. She was a princess! Submission was not a necessary part of her vocabulary. Manners, propriety, the acceptance of authority? Not her concern.
    Saint Valentine’s Day seemed an eternity away, and the Duke of Thornton would never understand how misguided he was, with his endless talk of feminine virtue and submission. But he would understand when she brought him to justice for his crimes against her pride.
    This thought sustained her as he returned, hour after hour, sending Jeannie away for the ten minutes or so it took him to lecture Violet and blister her bottom with twenty firm strokes from his demon paddle.
    Oh, how she wished to turn away from the pain, to bury her bottom in a chair, or in her bed, or any protective shelter, but she couldn’t, because the cylinder impeded any such action. The last few times, he took up the lubricating oil and dripped it onto her bottom hole again, and manipulated the bulbous shaft inside her, easing it in and out before he subjected her to the paddling.
    It did, finally, begin to sink in. He was her master. She must obey him or pay the price. She literally could not hide that part of her, her buttocks, her bottom hole, any region of her body he considered suited for discipline. She must please him or be punished, and as long as she was with him, that would never change.
    The final time he came in, he walked to the back of the couch to face her, and asked in a low and serious voice, “Tell me, Violet, why I have subjected you to this ordeal today.”
    She looked up at him, dreading the last of the blows to come, but understanding that she could not escape them. “To show me that I cannot escape discipline. That I must submit to your will.”
    He nodded, studying her closely. “Do you believe that, or are you only saying what you think I wish to hear?”
    It would be easiest for her to bow her head and murmur, “Yes, Your Grace, I truly believe it.” But her pride would not allow that. Instead, she looked into his eyes and said, “It’s very complicated.”
    “In what way?”
    “The thing is, Your Grace, I don’t believe I should submit on every occasion to a man. It is too...sweeping. It does not allow for my own will.”
    “I agree. You would not submit if I told you to do something against the greater good of the kingdom, or the greater good of your family. But what if I ask you to submit for your own good? For your own peace and harmony, and that of others?”
    She could barely hold his gaze. “I don’t know. I suppose... I suppose those are acceptable reasons to submit.”
    “Sometimes it’s necessary to subdue your will and accept that someone else knows better, especially when you’ve