Monday, October 20, 2014

When pony play meets domestic discipline…

you get this book. Here's a taste:
Lord Ranin’s face held sorrow, it seemed to her, but also determination. He did not want to punish her, she knew, and that was the problem—the true problem. The reason she did not perform the way she should, as an imperial filly, lay in the way her trainer refused to punish her properly. Now it appeared that would change, right here in her stall. 
Lord Ranin did not say another word, but turned to his right and set the stool down. Then he sat upon it and looked up at Edera. “Come here, filly Edera,” he said, “and get over my knee. I am going to spank you, as perhaps I should have spanked you a long time ago.” 
Master Morqan did sometimes use this kind of spanking on a filly, but only rarely. Edera had seen through a stall window once, as Lord Ranin walked her past to take her out for evening exercise, that the big stable master had one of his favorite fillies, a light-skinned Northern girl named Kari with ice-blue eyes and hair so light in color that it looked nearly white, over his knee. He had taken out her tail, and he was spanking her hard with his enormous open hand, and talking to her softly as he did it—so softly that Edera couldn’t make out any of the words. 
A stab of envy that she could not explain had gone through her at the sight. Beatings from the quirt—real beatings, as opposed to the occasional flick all the fillies got many times a day—like the one the emperor had given Melisan held a fascination for Edera; after three months as an imperial filly, she could not deny it. She had not received one, and Melisan would certainly be terribly resentful if she knew with what rapt attention Edera had listened to her cries and, later, looked surreptitiously at the tracery of red that covered her ample bottom cheeks. 
But the sight of Master Morqan spanking Kari had made her suddenly want to beg Lord Ranin to spank her, and Edera had not been able to decide why. Now, looking into his stern face—the same expression he had worn when he told her that she must not go to the parley with Emperor Comnar—and watching him spread his legs in the leather breeches and pat his left thigh, over which Edera knew she must now go for her spanking, she suddenly understood, and it made her start to cry. 
Lord Ranin, understandably mistaking the reason for her tears, said, “Come now, filly Edera, it is not so bad as that. Take your punishment like a good girl and learn your lesson.”
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