Buying His Mate (18 page)

She ate standing, the strange feeling of having to lift her food that much further making her feel wonderfully subservient to her owner, master, and husband.

“Wonderful stir-fry,” he said, smiling up at her across the table after he had taken his first bite.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied, feeling herself blush a little, as though she had never cooked for him before, and he had never complimented her on her meals—though she had actually cooked every meal for him for almost a month now. Everything suddenly seemed new, standing there with a sore bottom, over-full with a hard reminder that she must never disobey him again.

He ate very quickly, not speaking again but looking up frequently to smile at her. Finally, he said, “Alright, it’s almost time for the rest of your punishment, and for my pleasure. Clean up the kitchen and then go and get on top of the lesson table in the living room.”

Gretchen, despite the pain she knew was coming, couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“Does the lesson table make you smile, my dear?” Martin asked.

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Why, when you know I’ll whip you on top of it, and then fuck you for my own pleasure and not for yours?” His eyes regarded her levelly, and his face showed nothing unusual, but Gretchen understood suddenly that the answer to this question, despite being nearly moot, had to put the final seal on their… could it really be called a marriage? she suddenly wondered. Yes, but perhaps, given the fall and impending rise of the civilization that had once believed in such things, it needed to be called something else, something much more embracing, even if that comprehensive quality had to be achieved at the expense of a certain blandness. The thing her answer would seal forever, now, should be called, simply, their domestic arrangement.

“Because our… domestic arrangement…”

“Our what?” A bemused smile appeared on his face and made Gretchen’s heart ache with love for him. He had pushed away the claiming, taking, having instinct, out of love for her, but now she knew he wouldn’t push it away, ever again.

“It’s just… it’s just that I don’t think we’re
only
married, sir. I think…”

The words began to tumble out of Gretchen, as the ideas behind them, a mingling of everything that had happened in the past weeks, all seemed to coalesce into a shining whole: the Taking itself, with Mr. Lourcy and Ms. Feld vying for her; the entertainment room, with its videos and books, and with Beth; the shuttle, orientation, the wedding night; the strange time of her new husband’s nightly, tender, fruitless visits; then, the Maenad Club, Ms. Feld’s cane; and, finally, the terrible spanking over the counter, the plugging that followed, and the promise of this night.

“I think we’re together, and it doesn’t much matter if we’re owner and relict, or master and girl, or husband and wife. We’re who we are, and I want you to whip me until you feel I’ve been whipped enough, and I want you to fuck me for your pleasure—yours alone. I want to be the taken girl you bought that day. The girls in the club, like Beth, they don’t have to worry about this, because that’s their job. And maybe the other girls who got bought with me don’t have to worry about it either.”

A look bordering on anger came into Martin’s eyes, as if he heard an accusation in Gretchen’s words, but she continued, “But you, sir—you did something more, and something wonderful, even though it’s not like anything else there’s even been maybe, because it’s not like marriage used to be before the collapse, and it’s not like what people on Athena have ever done, and maybe it wasn’t even possible before the Taking began. Those men who were exiled, they had the right idea, but they went about it wrong. And… and… maybe you’re doing it right, but… sir, I…”

Her words dried up. How could she tell him that she might have ruined everything she had just proclaimed so very important and right?

“You what?” His eyes narrowed, but his voice remained calm.

“I told Ms. Feld we were married, and that’s when she took me to her office and caned me, and told me I had to be certain you would see the marks.”

Suddenly Martin laughed, and it sounded to Gretchen like the most beautiful thing in the world. She looked at him desperately, trying to figure out why he was laughing but somehow already reassured.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he said. “It seems your punishment is even better deserved than I thought, but everything makes sense now. I think Heather was trying to tell us that a
domestic arrangement
is something she’s happy to support, as long as I don’t neglect to give you what you need.”

“What? I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t understand.” Gretchen looked into Martin’s eyes. The bemused smile had turned into a grin.

“If she had wanted to have me exiled, she would have taken you straight to the relict affairs office. By caning you, she got herself involved. I don’t think I was wrong to want you to be my wife, and I certainly want you to remain my wife, my dear. But we must also—as you just said—be other things to one another, and perhaps to call it a domestic arrangement is the best way to put it.”

Gretchen felt a smile break out on her own face.

“Now go clean up,” he said. “And then get onto the lesson table. Among other things, I’m going to do my best to make a baby inside that sweet pussy of yours, and see if we can’t add to the number of participants in this
domestic arrangement
.”

“Yes, sir,” Gretchen said. Then, wincing at the pain of her already sore bottom, soon—she felt sure—to be even sorer, she obeyed.

Epilogue

Martin came to see Heather at the Maenad Club one morning six weeks later. Heather could see from the smile on his face exactly what news he had to share.

“So,” she said before she had even sat him down in the closed restaurant, having told Beth to bring them coffee. “Gretchen’s pregnant.”

“Is it that obvious in my face?” Martin said, laughing. “I meant to come in the day after, well, let’s just call it the incident, but I was so sure I would have this news very soon that I wanted to wait.”

“Well,” Heather replied. “I knew when you didn’t come here in a rage, and when Beth told me that Gretchen was looking very happy in class—as well as not being able to sit down—that you’d understood at least the most important part of my message.”

Martin laughed again. Beth arrived with the coffee. “Beth,” he said. “I understand it was your idea for Gretchen to come here that day.”

Beth’s face turned pink. “Yes, Mr. Lourcy,” she said.

“Have you been punished?”

“Oh,” Heather said, smiling, “very thoroughly. Wouldn’t you say, Beth?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beth replied. She turned to Martin. “Mistress told Mr. Jones, and he gave me twenty-four with the cane.” The girl winced, delightfully, at the memory.

“Twenty-four?” Martin said, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes, Mr. Lourcy,” Beth replied. “It was awful.”

Heather laughed. “It was awful for Beth—at the time. It was lovely for the rest of us. I think there were twenty or thirty members, and nearly as many relict girls. Quite a wonderful example we made of our Beth.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beth said, now standing respectfully by the table, holding her tray in front of her naked belly.

“And how did you feel afterward, Beth?” Heather prodded. “Was it so awful?”

Beth looked down and whispered, “No, ma’am.”

“What happened then?” Heather prompted.

“I was given to the club.”

“Given to the club?” Martin said, his eyebrows going ever higher.

“Everyone fucked me,” Beth said softly.

“Even the relict girls,” Heather said, smiling triumphantly. “We issued them strap-ons for the occasion. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t like to see Gretchen in a strap-on, Martin.”

Martin shook his head, a funny little smile on his face.

“You may go, Beth,” Heather said.

Before she could depart, though, Martin said, “Beth, thank you. Thank you very much.”

Beth blushed again. “You’re welcome, Mr. Lourcy. I think Gretchen will be very happy now.”

“She’s pregnant,” Martin said, the joy coming through strongly in his voice.

Beth smiled. “I thought she might be,” she said, and departed.

“And thank you, Heather. It was a strange message, but a very effective one.”

She regarded him affectionately, remembering the passionate young man he had been, the debates in class, his strange visit to the club, and then his stranger participation in the Taking—the purchase of Gretchen and what came of it.

“You’re a very good man, Martin Lourcy,” she said finally. “You just had to figure out how not to let it get in the way of getting what you really need. You’ll be joining the club, now?”

Martin chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. Then, he nodded decisively. “If I tell my wife that she may get to wear a strap-on, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep her away. She’s a naughty little thing. Much naughtier than I thought I could ever find.”

* * *

Gretchen’s eyes went wide when Martin told her what had happened to Beth.

“Really?” she said. “All of them?”

“Apparently,” Martin said. He looked deeply into her eyes, as he sat on the side of her bed where she had been having a lovely nap. She felt tired all the time, now, of course, and sick most of it. Her tender husband took very good care of her, but he hadn’t stopped caning her regularly, and her bottom bore lovely, fading purple marks that she loved to touch and run her fingers along.

It was a good thing she was allowed to play with herself whenever she wanted, as a reward for her very good behavior these days. Martin had actually found her on the verge of orgasm when he came through her bedroom door, and he hadn’t been able to resist lowering his pants, turning her over, and sliding deep into her pussy, instructing her at the same time not to stop masturbating. She had come, screaming, after a few thrusts from him, but he told her to keep playing with herself, and Gretchen had ended up coming twice more before Martin pumped yet more of his seed inside her.

Then she thought of something. “Even the relict girls?”

Martin smiled. “They wore strap-ons.”

Gretchen felt her eyes go very wide. “Could… I mean, I don’t know who I would
use
it on, but… Beth, maybe?”

She saw that he understood completely. He nodded. “As soon as you’re feeling well enough,” he said, “we’ll go to the club. We can have at least a few months of fun before the baby comes.”

He lay down on the bed, facing her, and pulled her closer, kissed her.

“Sir?”

“I thought I told you to call me
Martin
when we’re alone.” His tone was light, but Gretchen could tell how deeply he felt it.

“What if I want a spanking, sir?”

“You will most certainly have it,” he said with a smile. “But you already knew that.”

Gretchen giggled. Then she whispered, “Martin?”

He kissed her long and hard. “Yes?”

“That first night… when you were telling me about the lesson table?”

“Yes, my dear?” Now he sounded bemused and a little at a loss to discover what she wanted to discuss.

“Well, you said that you would teach me to please you, too, when you lie on it.”

Martin chuckled. “I did, didn’t I? Do you want to hear what you’ll do tonight, while I lie on the table?”

“Oh, yes,” Gretchen said. “Will I… I mean, may I…” She didn’t know why, exactly, but lately she had longed, whenever she looked at him, to pleasure her husband’s cock with her mouth. Perhaps it was because the better she got at it, the more he seemed to abandon himself to his savage side, and fuck her with animalistic abandon.

“May you what, my love?” he asked gently.

“Suck your beautiful cock,” she whispered, blushing and hiding her face in his chest, covered in the soft white tunic.

“Yes,” Martin breathed. “Oh, yes.”

Gretchen looked back up at him and smiled. “I love you, sir,” she said. “I love our domestic arrangement.”

“I love you, too, my dear. Our arrangement may be something never seen before on Earth or in the heavens, but who knows? Maybe it will be the kind of arrangement you can build a brave new world on.”

The End

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More Stormy Night Books by Emily Tilton

The Count’s Discipline

When Robert de Lourcy’s wife spurns his desire to spank her, the young count contents himself with disciplining other women of the court, until a rash decision to chastise the women of a captured castle arouses the ire of the local bishop and Robert is forced to seek absolution. In an act of penance, he visits a cathedral and stumbles upon a young girl named Sophia who has been set upon by robbers. Remembering his promise make amends for his sins, Robert takes pity on the destitute child, placing her in a convent so that she may be properly educated.

When Sophia comes of age, the nuns at the convent grow more firm with her. The young woman is simultaneously drawn to their discipline but also unconvinced that their motivations are particularly noble. After Sophia’s education is complete, Robert brings her into his household to serve as his secretary. Though he has decided to never spank another woman again, when Sophia begs him to chastise her as the nuns did he cannot resist the opportunity to take her over his knee.