"I shall give her strength, the goddess, Freya decided... more than she possesses. Let the mortal man... so cocksure, so commanding... so dominant... much too dominant... fight for the right to have her... fight for the right to tame her... fight for the right to keep her in his life... fight for the right to love her.
And... I shall give him more arrogance, the god, Loki smiled, his wicked humor the impetus for his machinations. I shall give him more surety, and more determination to win her at all costs... save none. Checkmate, my queen, he whispered into the wind.
Freya turned to his fading shadow, his words swirling around her... foreboding... laughing... The goddess frowned.
The moon was high, the night quiet when she eased out of his bed, her backside sore and aching. He remained silent, feigning sleep as he watched her dress, surprised she had waited this long to leave.
Beautiful, my Freya. So beautiful you are... with your reddened bottom cheeks. So beautiful... and mine.
Michaela tiptoed around the room, gathering her undergarments, swallowing a moan when she pulled her knickers up and over her chastised butt. Don't wake up... please don't wake up. I've got to get away... please, don't wake up.
Go... get away for a while. I'll find you. Never fear. I'll find you, my sweet girl. And when I do... you'll beg... Oh yes, you'll beg. I'll make sure of it. Go... take some time for yourself. You and I have just begun!
He turned onto his side, startling her and stilling her movements. When she thought it was safe, she crept from the room and quietly left the house.
Sunlight stabbed his eyelids... the sheer brilliance piercing, his dream interrupted... Freya... Tyler cursed softly. Need you... arms empty... and groaned as he rose and stretched, shaking sleep from his body. A scent of musk sex hung in the air, a lingering hint of lavender... her hair the sheets twisted and tangled from more than sleeplessness. He saw her again... his memories rewinding... his mind's eye replaying each and every moment, taunting him with last night's encounter. So hot, my Freya. So sweet and wet for me... so hot... so tight. You were so easily fucked... so ready for me. I could taste the madness in you... knew you wanted me. The madness will bring you back to me... this need you have... your want of me... your need for my control. You are everything I thought you'd be... pretty white bottom turning pink... arching up... reddened by my hand... so beautiful, my Freya. Spanking you... fucking you... so good.
"Who does he think he is?" she fumed, as she parked the newly leased rental car at the bed and breakfast inn on the outskirts of town. "The man is an arrogant beast! He spanked me!" she grumbled under her breath, her ire in full force, grabbing her overnight bag and storming toward the inn's front porch. "The man is simply a... a barbarian! That's what he is!" she shouted as she opened the door.
"I think a hot cup of tea would not be amiss, now would it?" the attractive woman at the desk inquired with a smile as she waited for the angry beauty to compose herself.
"I... I beg your pardon," Michaela blushed. "Was talking to myself."
"Quite all right," the woman intoned in a sympathetic fashion. "And I'll bet my raspberry scones you're hungry, too."
"I am," Michaela smiled, warming to the inn's hostess, vaguely aware they favored each other in appearance. "Will you join me?"
"Indeed, I will. Can't wait to hear about the delicious man who's got your knickers in a twist."
"How... how do you know he's delicious? I mean..." Michaela's face turned crimson. The woman was a stranger and here she was, spouting all sorts of...
"'Cause if he was merely a tyrant or a whore monger, you wouldn't be wasting precious energy being angry at the sod; now, would you?"
"You're right," Michaela muttered, "but still..."
"Tell me," the Norse goddess, Freya intoned, straightening the spine of her mortal form. "I'm eager to know what this man has done to disturb you."
Later, Michaela would wonder why she felt compelled to tell her hostess the myriad and embarrassing details of her encounter with the arrogant Tyler Hamilton. True, the tea had warmed her churning stomach; she had been starved and the scones had been delicious, yet... Almost as if I had been drugged... Shaking her head at such a silly thought, she wondered why she had confessed that Tyler had excited her... frightened her... claimed her with such an intensity... The heat... the sting... I was so wet... have never been that wet before... never have I wanted a man so badly... so... She had wanted to defy him, hurl curses at him until he descended to the seventh ring of Hell, wish ill upon him and... ...and drape myself across his lap... submit to his stinging hand... beg him to... to... No! I cannot! I cannot submit to him. He... He beat me! He beat me and took... took what he wanted... took me as if he owned me! He's... he's a barbarian!
The narrow streets of the Barbican called her and she walked through them losing herself in the throngs that crowded the individual shops and galleries. The area was a mecca for art lovers and Michaela, the inveterate visual artist, took the opportunity to sketch wide-eyed tourists. Peering into windows to see what was on display, she was startled at her reflection and assessed her features. Pausing, she wondered if her brief time with Tyler had changed her. For certain, her life had changed... For better or worse? She didn't know. She only knew that she couldn't stop thinking about the spanking, the way it felt... the shock... the sting... the pleasure. And the loving... so rough... so sweet... so good.
"Well, he can bloody well go to Hell!" she muttered as she continued to wind her way through the narrow streets. "If he thinks I'm going to submit to his dominance... his... This is the twenty-first century!" she hissed indignantly. "Women do not simply bend over and... and... Does he think we are chattel? Does he think he's lord and master of... of...? The man has balls!"
It finally dawned on her that people were staring... and Michaela blushed profusely as she realized she had spoken aloud. God's teeth! Did I just shout that he has balls? Chastising herself, she shook her head at her wayward thoughts and her runaway mouth. I meant to say he has some nerve! The lout! The bloody sod! The.... I've gone to hell in a hand basket. I need to get away from him... from here... Plymouth is even worse than...
Finally settled behind the wheel, she drove away from the crowds, intent on losing herself in the calm serenity of Plymouth Hoe. I'll sketch the scenery, the tourists sunning themselves in the park, Smeaton's Tower as I look up from the ground, and then I'll... Damn him! My life was full before Tyler Hamilton interrupted it! There are tons of nice men in my life! Gentle men! Very gentle men. Men who adore me, men who rush to do my bidding, men who give me anything I want! "It was wonderful!" she yelled as she banged her fists on the steering wheel. "It was... it was... predictable..." she murmured. "It was... boring, terribly boring... always getting my way."
"I hate you Tyler Hamilton," she whispered as her eyes filled. "I hate you for awakening me to your... to your... to you. I had it all before I met you. I had... I didn't know people actually..." I loved how you took control... I loved how you took over... how you... my bottom is so damn sore, so... You have brought out the worst in me! You have brought out... desire I didn't know I had, needs I had no idea I wanted fulfilled... I loved how you touched me... kissed me... Yes, you could kiss me until forever and I wouldn't complain, but when you pushed your way between my thighs, I... When you spanked me, you... I hated every second! I have *never* been treated to such... such... Neanderthal! Barbarian! You're nothing more than a well-dressed and suave barbarian. You're... I loved every moment with you... each and every moment, but...
... Determined... to come to a decision or resolution...
unflinching... staunch... unfaltering... unwavering...
giving direction to... directing her... instructing her...
disciplining her... defining limits... her limits...
...his methods strict but fair... his words firm... sure of the outcome... anticipating success... determined... to rule... to hear her beg... to be obeyed...
...or so he thinks...
...or so his Mummy told him...
"She'll come to me," he told the wineglass as he held it in front of him, his fourth since dinner, two more than he normally imbibed. "She'll come begging for more," he continued the ruse, convinced he was right. "No one else can possibly tame her. She needs me in her life. I'm perfect for her. Perfect!" he affirmed, nodding his head as he toasted himself and swallowed the last of the wine.
Silence greeted his words, the empty room appearing emptier now that she had graced it... now that she was gone. Fool, the feminine voice he thought he heard admonished. Go to her. She needs you, and you need her more.
Make her come to you, a masculine voice countered.
"What?" Tyler blinked as he turned his head, expecting to see... "Drinking too much," he muttered.
You need her, the voice repeated.
"I don't need her!" he growled in denial. "She needs me. She needs... Christ! She's a beauty. Freya," he moaned, "I want you."
You need her, the fading voice murmured, the sound receding, the words lingering, the thought dangling.
Make her beg, the other voice hissed. She's a woman... *only* a woman. Tame her... make her beg... make her yours.
"Enough!" Tyler shouted to the empty room as he popped the cork on another bottle of wine. "I don't need anyone!"
Two glasses later, he contemplated the stains on his previously pristine dress shirt. "Don't need a woman... don't need that supercilious bit of fluff... need nothing... nobody... don't even like her... silly girl. That's what she is... a silly..."
She's a beauty, the feminine voice whispered. So soft and sweet in your arms... so hot and wet for you... so good... She's a slut, the masculine voice suggested. Spread her thighs... let you touch her however you would... You need to beat her, make her learn the rules... teach her manners... master her...
"Freya," he groaned. "I want you. I want to make you beg for my kisses, my caresses. I want you naked over my lap... I want to warm your sweet white cheeks until they bloom, reddened from my hand... I want your sweet mouth... your soft pink petals spread for me... I want to fill you... over and over and over... there... there... and there...