Chapter - 15

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As the carriage stops, I carefully get off and start heading towards my quarter till I get cut off by the Lord, “Meet me in my study once Eryx is asleep.”

I sigh and head to my room, mentally preparing myself for the night ahead. My worries seem to become more bearable as I hear Eryx's giggle even before entering the room. I enter the room with a smile, “Someone seems to be having fun without mama,” I hoist him up and he giggles more, waving around his little hands to touch me.

“Young Master has been a very good boy,” Lisa says with a smile as she watches us. Eryx babbles cutely, playing with my hair. I leave him in Dana's care as Lisa helps me get out of the ball gown and into a comfortable nightgown. I sit down beside Eryx on his mat. He's laughing and waving around his head, trying to turn over on his own. His laughter is the only solace in this bland world of mine. After a while of playing with Eryx,

“It's getting late, my sweet. Let's get you to bed,” I feed him and put him to bed. Watching his innocent face sleeping peacefully. With a sigh, I get up from beside his crib and look up at Lisa, “Look after him till I return. The Lord asked me to go to his office.”

She nods sympathetically, looking at me worriedly as I get up and head for his office. I gently knock on the door, “Come in,” his deep voice rumbles from the other side. I slowly get in and approach his desk, “Get up on the desk,” he commands, not even looking up at me. I feel the dread settling in as I hoist myself up and sit down.

“Move further, only your feet should be on the edge,” I follow along with a deep breath, sitting down with my legs stretched before me. He gets up, running a finger down the sole of my foot, making a shiver run down my spine.

“You've been misbehaving lately. Who gave you the right to dance with another man?” He grips my chin roughly and pulls me close, “Was it his sly smirk or the charming face that got your knickers in a twist?” His hand goes lower from my chin, gripping my neck, yet not hard enough to choke.

“It was nothing like that. I couldn't refuse a royal for the first dance, it is against etiquette. It'd reflect badly upon our family name,” I say as calmly as possible, refusing to let the fear consume me.

“STOP WITH THE LIES!” his scream causes me to flinch, “Why were you on the balcony with him ALONE?”

“His Highness joined me,” I replied with a shaky voice. His grip around my neck tightens, “Then why did you not tell him that you're married? Were you hoping that he'd mistake you for a maiden and take you to bed? You filthy harlot!” He slaps me hard across the cheek.

(⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️)

He brings out some rope to tie my feet together and my wrists behind my back. Securing them, he brings out a thin cane. Without a word, he strikes down on the sole of my feet as I let out a screech. The sudden pain wreaks my body in pain, instinctively trying to pull away.

He strikes down again, making me cry out, “Please don't do this. I was simply trying to be polite,” I whimper out.

“Down to begging now, are we? How does it feel?” He keeps striking down, making me wreathe around in pain. All the struggling is making the ropes tighten around my skin, making my skin burn. The pain creeps up, spreading throughout my body.

“Please, the pain is excruciating,” I groan, curling up my feet.

“You should have thought twice before angering me again. The reason why you're not bleeding right now is because I don't want more visible injuries on you,” he says coldly, flicking away a tear from my cheek.

The strikes become more forceful with time as his eyes grow colder, deriving pleasure from my pain. The ropes cut into my skin from all my struggles, making my wrists and legs bleed. My feet swell up from the barrage of strikes.

He stops once he notices my legs go numb, seeing no point in hitting further if I'm not going to experience pain. He unties my arms and legs, dragging me close to the edge, his palm circling around my neck, “Don't ever think about being someone else's,” he bends forward, his lips close to my ear as he whispers, “It's not a request, it's a warning.”

His other hand snakes up my legs and grips my hip. He forcefully pulls me in a kiss, his tongue mingling with mine in a fierce assault, he bites down on my lower lip at my reluctance, drawing blood. He retreats after kissing for a while, unbuttoning his pants as I lay under him exhausted from the torture.

He rips open my thin nightgown, his arms looping under my thighs as he hoists my legs up, entering me without warning. I can feel my insides clench at the forceful invasion, my back arching. I grit my teeth in pain as he continues his forceful thrusts.

In the dimly lit room, our bodies entwined like two wild creatures caught in a primal dance. His strong hands grip my hips tightly as he thrusts into me with raw, animalistic passion. My nails dig into his back, leaving faint red lines on his skin as I arch my body against him, trying to maintain my balance.

The sound of his rough thrusts echo throughout the room, a symphony of lust, cruelty and desire that only we could hear. Each movement sends waves of pain coursing through my body, fueling my desperate need for escape. Our skin glistens with sweat, reflecting the flickering light from the solitary candle on the nightstand.

He pauses momentarily, his chest heaving as he looks down at my flushed face, his eyes burning with an intensity that seems almost unnatural. He leans forward, kissing me deeply before biting my lower lip again.

His hand reaches up to grab onto one of my thighs while the other still holds onto my hip firmly. With a growl, he starts pounding into me once again, driving himself deeper inside of me with every stroke.

The sound of our bodies colliding together fills the air, muffled by the heavy curtains draped over the windows but still audible enough to make your skin crawl.

With a loud groan, he buries himself deep within me, his hot seed spurting inside me. My walls clench around him involuntarily as he releases everything inside.

(⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️)

I lay down on the table, my chest rising and falling as I breathe heavily. He takes off his shirt and wraps it around me, carrying me to my bedchamber and laying my limp body on the bed. His eyes fall on Eryx's crib, he gazes at the small child's face affectionately before bending forward and kissing his forehead. He spares me another glance before leaving. I curl up on the bed, trying to cope with the pain. I take a look at Eryx's peaceful face, crawling to the edge of the bed and extending my arm towards his crib, I hold his tiny hand and close my eyes.

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(Notes)

Falaka, also known as bastinado, is a form of corporal punishment where the soles of a person's feet are beaten with a stick or a rod. This practice has been historically used in various cultures as a method of punishment, discipline, or torture. The recipient is typically restrained, lying on their back or stomach, while their feet are struck repeatedly.

The pain inflicted by falaka can be intense, as the soles of the feet are particularly sensitive. In some cases, this punishment can cause serious injuries, including bruising, swelling, and even long-term damage to the feet.

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