Don’t Teach an Eagle to Fly – 7. chapter

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He stood behind her. The first strike fell without warning, across her thighs. She hissed, her body jerked, but she said nothing. She only gasped for breath.

The second strike landed lower. She shuddered silently, her knees trembled, but her body, stretched tight by the rope, had nowhere to move. She was fully exposed.

The third strike. This time to her backside. Her skin began to burn, and the tremor in her muscles betrayed more than her own eyes did.

“You won’t tell me?” His voice came from behind her. Quietly. Firmly. Without anger, yet relentless.

The fourth strike. The fifth. Each one slow. Precise.

Then he stopped. He remained standing close behind her, twisting the strap in his hand.

“Think, Nirella. How many can you take? And what happens when I stop using only this?”

“Go ahead!” she snapped at him.

He clenched his teeth and pulled the strap taut again. The next strike came harder than the last. Her backside flushed red, her body convulsed.

“Have you been through this before, princess?” he whispered by her ear as he leaned close. His breath was hot, his voice remained cold. “Hanging like this. Naked. Helpless.”

She flinched slightly but did not speak. Kaelan stepped back. The strap cut through the air again and struck across her thighs. This time she hissed almost out loud.

“One word is all it takes,” he reminded her. “And I stop.”

She stayed silent.

He struck again. Then again. And again.

Her backside was already burning, the skin beginning to turn a darker red. She desperately clenched her jaw and stared ahead. Kaelan remained standing. A spark flashed in his eyes.

“As you wish,” he growled softly.

He bent, caught her chin, forced her head to turn. Tears shone in her eyes, along with defiance.

Kaelan did not stop. This time he struck lower, slanting across her backside and thigh. Her legs shook, her body tensed like a string. But she did not fall. Her arms above her head would not let her collapse. Another strike followed. Then another. Each one carefully aimed. Kaelan waited to see if she would scream. If she would beg. If she would at least hesitate. She said nothing. Not yet.

He lifted the strap again, but this time he did not strike. He only let it slide slowly along her thigh, as if considering where the next blow would land. Then without warning he bent and whispered in her ear.

“Test me a little longer… and I swear this gentle little strap won’t be the only thing that touches you.”

His voice was deep, calm. There was no anger in it, only tension that sent panic quivering through her at once. She drew a breath but did not answer.

The strap fell again, straight beneath her backside, where her skin was already sensitive. She whimpered in pain. Then he struck again. Slowly. Precisely. Methodically. He watched her hips shake, her knees buckle. At last he bent, seized her hair, pulled her head back. She saw him only in profile, her eyes narrowed with pain. Still she did not yield.

“Do you want to force me further?” he said quietly. “Because I will go further. And you won’t like it.”

He placed his palm between her shoulder blades and waited.

“I’m asking you for the last time, Nirella.”

She did not answer. Her shoulders shook, her whole body burned under his strikes, yet her mouth remained firmly closed. She only looked at him, slick with sweat, desperate, eyes full of pain.

Kaelan stood unmoving. He wrapped the strap around his hand again, but this time he did not use it.

“Very well,” he said coldly. He turned and went to the chest. He took out something new. A narrow leather strip, thinner than the previous strap, but with sharper edges.

“This one is more sensitive,” he remarked as if speaking of clothing. “But only until it heats up.”

He returned to her. She stood there helpless, her whole body taut, beads of sweat shining on her forehead.

The first lash fell crosswise over her backside. Hard. Sharp. A muffled sound tore from her throat, not a scream, but something between a whimper and a sob.

“A few sentences are all I need,” he said calmly.

She stayed silent.

Another lash. And another. Short. Sharp. Precisely aimed. The skin beneath the blows darkened. The girl breathed quickly, raggedly.

“End this, Nirella.”

She breathed, clenched her teeth, eyes shut. Then after the last strike her body suddenly tensed differently. Her knees gave way and the rope caught her.

Kaelan quickly moved closer, bracing her with a palm beneath her belly so she would not fall. He leaned close to her ear.

“I want to hear it. One word and I let you go.”

She breathed against his face, shaking, soaked in sweat, her skin aflame. Still she said nothing.

Kaelan closed his eyes. He exhaled softly.

“Fine,” he said through his teeth. “Then you’ll be mine. Entirely. And this will no longer be a game.”

He straightened. And began to unfasten the belt of his shirt. The shirt slid from his shoulders, the sound of fabric unbearably loud in the quiet room. Nirella did not move, but her breathing grew increasingly shallow. Kaelan stepped close. He stood so near she could almost feel him, yet he still did not touch her. He placed his hands on her hips very slowly, as if giving her time to understand what would come next. She gasped. She tried to move, to pull away, but her body betrayed her. The rope held firm, weakness breaking her.

His hands moved along her thighs. Rough, but slow. He breathed on her neck, unhurried, with clear intent.

“I won’t hurt you… if you answer me.”

Nirella closed her eyes. She knew she could not stop him.

Kaelan stood straight. His hands still on her thighs, the motion suspended in a tension thick enough to cut. He felt her body trembling. Not only from pain, but from fear. And yet… she still remained silent.

He frowned and slowly drew back. He straightened in front of her body, still hanging from the rope, sweaty, broken, yet unconquered. He caught her chin and forced her to meet his eyes again.

“Why are you so stubborn?” he asked coldly, more to himself than to her. “Do you really want me to do this?”

She did not answer. Her eyes were wide, but deep within them smoldered the same spark. Unyielding. Unrelenting.

Kaelan clenched his jaw. His hand moved over her belly, searching for any hint of surrender. Instead, he felt only tension. Defiance. No desire, only pure trembling. Like a body fighting collapse. He lifted her chin. With his palm, he wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“Where is your father?”

She closed her eyes. Slowly, but firmly.

“As you wish,” he growled.

He reached for the bindings and freed her wrists. She fell into his arms at once and he caught her body. He carried her to the bed. She whimpered in pain as he laid her down. Then again when he pulled her so he could free her ankles. He lay between her thighs immediately and pressed his body to hers. With one hand he lifted her bound wrists above her head. With the other he quickly opened his trousers. His dick had no trouble with the plan. It hardened fast.

“Stop this, Nirella!” he growled harshly.

In the eyes of the girl beneath him was not fear, but wild panic. She panted hard and shut her eyes so he would not see that she had begun to cry. It did not help. Tears slipped from beneath her lids and ran down her cheeks. Then she once again allowed him to sink into the gray, metal-hard color of her eyes.

“I won’t tell you anything,” she said with resolve.

He stayed still. Tension pulsed at his temples, his hand clenched into a fist, the muscles of his jaw locked. His pelvis poised to thrust. He should do it. In truth he had to. She was a prisoner of war. And he was king. He had the right. He had reason. He had an excuse. But beneath all of it, beneath anger, the desire for power, obedience, and answers, there was truth.

I can’t. I can’t do this to a woman. Not like this. Not for real. Damn it, let a captive triumph over me if she must. I simply will not do this.

Slowly, without a word, he pulled away from her. He searched her eyes once more. There was no relief in them. Only shock. Surprise. Confusion.

Kaelan rose, dressed, and fastened his trousers. He secured her wrists to the long chain extending from the wall, then turned and headed for the door.

“I’m not finished.”

And then he left.