Chained (M/F story)

Melody took a deep, long breath, trying her best to calm her nerves. It didn't work. But then, when your hands are chained to a solid stone wall, in an almost empty dungeon, nervousness is only to be expected.

She didn't think she'd been here long – an hour or two since she had been brought down, she reckoned – but since she had no way to keep time, that was just a guess. Could be several hours, could be minutes. She shivered in her thin burlap dress, a rough, worn thing that ended shortly below her backside. It wasn't much for warmth, but it was something.

On a whim, she decided to press herself against the wall, trying to turn herself around to have a look around the dungeon. Unfortunately, the chain was too short, and all she could spot was a heavy table a few feet to her left. A sheet was covering it, but she thought she could see several items under the sheet, none of which looked all that soft and cuddly.

The air seemed to get even colder as she thought about what could be on that table, and she decided to stop looking around herself.

After a while, she heard the footsteps – heavy, regular footsteps, marching with a purpose, and heading in her direction. She heard a door open, and a man walked up to her. He was wearing a light leather armour, that in no way hid his bulging muscles, and a hood that hid his face.

“Your discipline will begin shortly,” he stated calmly.

“Discipline?” Melody asked, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

The man chuckled softly. “It would not be right to call it punishment, since you've done nothing wrong – at least, nothing I am aware of. You're here because it delights the Lady of the Manor that you are here.”

“But -” Melody tried to protest, but the man put his hand over her mouth – gently, but with a squeeze that told her that he would only try being gentle ONCE.

“Maybe you do deserve it – if you try hard, you might think of some evil you should rightfully have been punished for. Or not, it makes no difference either way.”

He stuck his hand beneath the sheet – evidently, he planned to keep its content secret from her for now – and pulled out a large knife, grabbing the sheath with his right hand as he approached her. She stood completely still as he grabbed the rough dress, pulled it up and cut through the shoulder straps. He then let go of the dress, and it fell to the floor, pooling around her legs. She whimpered as she felt his eyes on her now naked, unprotected body; the dress had been thin and short, not much protection against either the wind or hungry gazes, but it was all she had, and now it was gone.

Having placed the knife back under the sheet, the man pushed Melody against the wall with his left hand, and with his right, he started to spank her, placing heavy smack after heavy smack on her unprotected bottom. She tried to squirm, to get away from the pain, but his hand on her back easily held her in place – and even if it didn't, she was still chained.

Melody decided to close her lips, to bear the pain in silence, so that he wouldn't get the satisfaction of knowing how much it stung – but that only seemed to egg him on, driving him to spank her harder and faster, and soon, tears were rolling down her face, and her brief resistance was forgotten.

Once he saw her tears, he nodded, cupping her backside as if to feel the warmth. Giving her a slight pinch, and nodding again as he saw her wince, he took a step back.

“Enough of a warm-up, I think.” Once again, he stepped over to the sheet. This time, he pulled out what looked like a riding crop. “Now, your discipline can truly begin.”

This time, he didn't push her against the wall. He didn't need to; no matter how much she squirmed and turned, the leather always found its mark, bringing a fresh sting to her already burning bottom. She was sobbing, leaning against the wall for support as he continued his assault, occasionally bringing the crop up to mark her lower back, or down to her thighs.

She couldn't take it any longer. Her voice cracking, she yelled at him. “That's enough! Now let me go!” For a second or two, he stood unmoving, crop raised as he looked at her. She threw herself back, trying to rip the chains out of the wall. “Let me go! Unchain me! Let me go!”

He took a step forward, embracing her as she cried. “Chalice?” he offered.

“That's it,” she said weakly. “Chalice.” In the pain, she'd forgotten their codeword.

“Are you ok, my lady?” he said as he unchained her, worry apparent in his voice.

“I'll be fine,” she reassured him.

Picking her up in his strong arms, he carried her up the stairs, making sure that he wasn't touching any of her marked flesh.

“The servants are ready, my lady. Jill is in your chambers, with a pot of ointments to take the sting away. She'll take care of you.”

She looked up at her loyal servant, intending to thank Nathaniel for his services, but she was too tired. These sessions always took a lot out of her, though usually, it wasn't as bad as it had been today.

She jumped a little as the cool ointment touched her backside – she hadn't noticed Jill examining her marks – but was soon relaxed as the servant rubbed it into her sore flesh. Luckily, she knew that no one would be needing Lady Melody, Mistress of the Manor, for a few days, so Melody, the young woman with the naughty secret, would be free to tend to her wounds in peace.