|Sex? BDSM activity? What will come of this interaction between The Queen and Iona?|
Iona turned the page in her book.
"Hey lovely." The Queen wandered into her room.
"My Queen," Iona murmured with little emotion to her voice.
The Queen cleared his throat in warning.
"Oh I'm sorry, my Queen," Iona said as she placed her finger on the page before looking at him. She smiled and scooted to one side of her bed to make space for him before returning to her reading.
"Was it that hard with Erik last night that you're just going to ignore the protocols we live with?"
Iona's gaze jumped with the dreaded contraction. "My Queen? I'm sorry. I'm just so exhausted."
The Queen reclined on Iona's bed and pulled her onto his lap.
"But my Queen, you've lost my place for me," Iona whined. She opened her book, flipped and skimmed for a moment, before slotting her kittens bookmark into place. She set her book on a nightstand.
"Now we talked about this, how we thought things might work as you learn to balance being Erik's mom and being my slave. His fever broke, Greta and Brenna have him occupied so you can have this break."
Iona relaxed into The Queen's embrace. "I am sorry, my Queen. I didn't imagine motherhood would be so tiring or that there'd be days I'd be so stressed that I have no desire for sex or BDSM at all."
The Queen took Iona's chin in hand and gently tilted her head so she looked up at his face. "I love you, Iona, my sweet slave, my darling lover, the most precious mother of my wonderful son. I guess maybe as dad I don't understand the depth of your worry but you've slept, Karl's been her to treat Erik, and I've just told you his fever broke. I appreciate your verbal apologies, but I still need to punish you physically."
"Yes, my Queen. I love you, my Queen." Her expression intriguingly combined equal parts awe and irritation.
"Now, my Queen?"
"Yes, although I will let you choose: my hand or an implement you have in your room.
"Please, your hand, my Queen." Iona's lips remained parted.
"Tell me what level of punishment you think you deserve." He brushed his thumb back and forth over her lips.
Iona knitted her brow. "Um... twenty spanks on my ass then ten over my labia with my legs spread wide, my Queen?"
"Did my question make you think I was asking for such a level of specificity that I normally do not?" He kissed her, soft and warm, holding her tight against him. "Or were you saying what you think you'll need to feel okay?"
Iona trembled against The Queen. "I don't know, my Queen. Hell, use it as a guide if you please. Sometimes I'm glad you don't have specific punishments for specific infractions, but sometimes it might help." She pressed her face against his chest, hiding beneath his hair.
"Let us change positions here to a more traditional over-the-knee for those first twenty." The Queen continued in the soft, yet stern tone he'd been using.
Iona crawled off his lap and onto her bed. She fell back onto her haunches as she watched him scoot to the edge of the bed.
The Queen patted his lap. "Stretch yourself out." He licked his lips as she obeyed.
Iona stretched out her arms in front of her as if she was unsure what to do with them.
"Tell me what you did wrong." He laid his left hand on her wrists, confining them.
"What I did wrong," Iona murmured, her voice pitched as if the comment wasn't really for The Queen's ears. "I didn't look at your face when I was physically capable as I was talking to you, my Queen. I snapped at you, a few times." She paused, frowning deeply. "You were wonderfully mixing the roles of Master, lover, father and I was just a bitchy, overtired mom, regardless of the help you'd given."
"Okay, I think you got it." Without warm-up, without ordering Iona to counting, The Queen landed several spanks in rapid, harsh precision, his hand moving around her ass and thighs.
Iona whimpered. "Supposed to—"
"No, I'm counting," The Queen interrupted through clenched teeth. He focused on her thighs, slapping until the light brown skin started to show the abuse. "I'm figuring out..." slap, slap, slap, "being a dad..." slap, slap, slap, "and supporting you as mom!" He paused, breathing hard. He rubbed his hand over her hot skin. "Even a vanilla mom would have looked at my face!" He slapped his hand repeatedly between her legs.
"I'm so sorry, my Queen." Iona broke into sobs as the spanking continued past her 20 suggested spanks.
The Queen spread his legs under Iona before flipping her over, her ass wedged in his thighs' grip. He gripped one leg and threw it wide, her foot brushing against the side of her bed. "Is not being in the mood for sex or BDSM activity a reason to be nasty at me?"
Iona blinked her eyes rapidly as she stared up at The Queen. "No, my Queen." Her lips trembled as fresh tears started down her cheeks.
The Queen cupped his hand and held it above Iona's wide spread labia. Punctuating his words with slaps, he lectured, "Do not use Erik as an excuse to be bitchy at me!"
"My... my Queen!" Iona screamed and moaned at the force of the blows.
He gathered her up in his arms, bringing her close to his chest, her head nestled against his neck. "Now this is what I wanted when I walked in here, just to hold you close. Did I miss some subtle female body language?"
"I guess, my Queen, that and I was out of line. After a moment, could we please go check on Erik?" Iona pressed a kiss against The Queen's neck.
"Yes, my sweet. In just a bit we will go see our boy."