Her Stolen Grace

"Ah, so you do this to provoke me?" he returned, his face darkening and Amora was immediately on the defensive.

"No!" she uttered quickly, "I just meant that I do not understand why I am here," she finished cautiously. While she often found the King infuriating, he often had a way of making her feel nervous.

"Have I not been a hospitable host?" William asked, unbuttoning his shirt to begin his meal. Shamefaced, she looked away. It was a strange habit of his that she should have been accustomed to by now, but still seemed to abash her every time.

"You have been most...kind," Amora offered, making sure she chose her words wisely as she watched the King slice into his portion of meat. She felt her stomach pang.

"Ah. And what would you do with an honored guest who showed ill appreciation for your hospitality?"

Before she could stop herself, the words left her mouth, "I didn't realize captives were considered honored guests." The King stopped slicing and Amora froze. She dared not even breathe. He'd often let her sassed remarks go but she had already exceeded her limit with her earlier caper. She watched carefully as the King paused for a moment, then went back to his meal.

She sighed quietly in relief for his restraint and awaited his permission to join him in supper. She looked down at the plate set before her, carrots and boiled rice with what appeared to be a decent cut of beef. Realizing that she'd missed breakfast, her stomach called to her again.

More audible this time, the king looked up at her from his meal.

"You must be famished," he suggested. Amora nodded quickly.

"You may eat..." he began and Amora quickly moved to sit down. "...but not before you have bathed." The king stood up abruptly, walking past her to a large set of doors stationed on the other side of the room. He stopped and motioned for her to follow; looking back longingly at her untouched meal, she reluctantly obeyed.

Amora had never seen the King's sleeping chambers, surprisingly. Though she dined with him almost every evening, the furthest she'd been was his personal dining room. Awestruck, she admired the size of the King's bedroom. Marvelous paintings, portraits, and grand windows adorned the room. She thought her rooms were ridiculously large when she'd first arrived, but hers seemed miniscule in comparison. His chambers had to have been three times the size of hers. As she followed him, a servant moved to open another door to what she assumed was his bathchamber.

As they passed, Amora noticed the colossal sized bed stationed against the wall in the middle of the room. The sheets were undone, which made her curious if he had recently left them. She shook off the thought and followed the King into the bathchamber.

Amora let out a small gasp of surprise. The bathchamber was enormous. Into the middle of the floor a large bath had been carved out, elevated slightly on a stone foundation. It was made of grey marble and she watched as a servant went to open the fill levers. Another servant opened the steam-windows as the hot water began to fill bath, steam rising into the air.

The servants bowed to her and the King and left the room. Amora waited for William to also take his leave. When he did not move, she frowned.

"I thought you wanted me to take a bath..." she started, feeling a bit unnerved being in such an intimate space with him.

"I do. But as I'm sure you've been told, you are no longer permitted to bathe alone." She nodded, looking around expectantly. Was Isabel or Vareena to meet her - here?

"Who will attend to me then?" she asked slowly turning around, expecting another servant to be present. When she turned back to face him, she realized that he had taken his shirt off. Surprised, she ogled at his broadly shaped chest for a moment, then took a step back.

William laughed, "I will." He motioned for her to walk to the stairs leading into the bath. Amora waited a moment, expecting him to inform her that this was in jest. The King did no such thing and simply waited for her to step forward. When she did not move, he closed the gap between them instead.

Once more, Amora found herself shamefaced, perturbed by their intimate proximity. The King placed his hands on her shoulders, slowly guiding her to turn away from him. With care, he unlaced the intricate weavings of her dress and unbuttoned the collar of the neck at the top. He peeled away the dress from her skin and it fell into a beautiful heap at her feet.

Amora clasped her hands quickly over her smallclothes in a vain attempt to cover her modesty. She'd never been undressed by a man before, and scent of the King, so close to her, was making her feel hazy. He smelled...good. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in his smell, trying to discern the fragrance.

The King's light chuckle brought her back to where she was and she flushed at her lapse in awareness. Again, he moved to remove her smallclothes from her body. It was a small sheer shift she wore underneath her dress. The King removed the straps from her shoulders one by one, guiding her to maneuver each of her arms from garment. Though she felt the roughness of his calloused hands, his touch was gentle. Being careful not to touch her too much, he tugged on the fabric and it too, fell easily into a heap on the floor.

Amora sheepishly moved to cover her full breasts with her hands, turning away from him. Realizing that was now presented with a decent view of her backside, she closed her eyes in a futile attempt to stave off her embarrassment.

"Get in the bath, I will wait," William commanded softly. Amora quickly did as she was told, submerging herself from the neck down into the water. She was grateful for the bubbles that filled the water so that she would not have to look at herself, a reminder that all she could see, he could see too.

She watched as he went to grab a washrag and rosewater pitcher from the counter on the other side of the bathchamber. Placing them near her side of the bath, he grabbed a small seatstool and sat down beside her. He motioned for her to come closer to him and she reluctantly obeyed. Astonished, Amora sat back as the King then began to bathe her.

He started with her hair, tilting her head back and pouring the rosewater through her lose, curly tresses. He tenderly massaged her scalp, making sure to work the rosewater through the entirety of her hair. Amora closed her eyes as she surrendered to the gentleness of his touch. William raked his hands from her roots to the ends of her long curly hair, making sure to work the rosewater attentively through every strand.

Next, he dipped the washrag into the bath, lathering up the scented soap from the water. He placidly washed her face first, taking care not to agitate the cut on her cheek. Instead, washing around it. Amora found herself peering questioningly into his eyes as he washed her dirt covered cheeks. He was focused on her...lips? He stared intently at them for a moment and she watched as he took his thumb and lightly traced the outline of her bottom lip.

As if remembering himself, his intent gaze met her curious one and he flashed her a mischievous smile. Amora broke their gaze and mentally berated herself for allowing herself to feel so comfortable with him in such an intimate space. The King continued his meticulous attention to detail, paying her no mind. After he'd cleaned her face, he moved his way down to her neck and then her arms. Paying special attention to each one. Lightly scrubbing the dirt she'd amassed from when she fell into the thistlehedge. He worked intricately through each of her fingers, scrubbing her palms and under her arms.

He then worked his way down her body, washing her chest, underneath her breasts, her back and stomach. He washed her thighs and even her sex, of which she embarrassingly kept her eyes closed for, before making his way down each of her legs. She found that she was extremely comfortable with his touch, even more so than when Isabel or Vareena sometimes attended to her. In the case of Vareena, Amora found herself often washing her own self, as Vareena tended to be cold and harsh in her touch. Not that Amora minded that much, anyhow.

When he had finished washing her from head to toe, he drew a bucket of warm clean water and doused her with it, rinsing the soap off her body. Next, he retrieved and towel, and helped her out of the bath, proceeding to dry her off from her neck all the way down to her toes. She felt a twinge of guilt watching as the King was on his knees, at her feet, drying her off.

Every interaction he made when it came to attending to her was thorough but gentle, and she never once felt that he was being too familiar. The King wrapped the towel around her led her out of the bathchamber, back into his bedchamber, where he sat her down on the bed and retrieved what appeared to be rose-oil from a night-table. He sat down, he applied the rose-oil to the nape of her neck, behind her ears, and the insides of her wrists.

After placing the bottle of oil on the table beside them, the King called for a servant to bring her a nightrobe. As the servant bowed and left the room, Amora found herself being grabbed by the wrists and abruptly pulled over the King's knee, face down.

Before she could realize what was happening, William had hiked the towel up over her, exposing her plump bottom to him. Amora opened her mouth in protest but only uttered a surprised squeal as the King let down a heavy-handed swat on her bottom.

"Count," he ordered simply, as he landed another strike. Taken aback by this sudden change in demeanor Amora could only utter a confused yelp.

"I—"

"Count!" he commanded again, this time with a firmer voice. "Count or your punishment will know no end." He stopped, waiting for her response. Punishment? Ohhh, she realized. Once again, she felt the full force of the flat of his palm coming down on her behind.

"One!" Amora managed. This was a new method of punishment for him. Usually, should she displease him, he'd have the headmaiden administer lashings, as Isabel and Vareena had received. And they were administered in a less...intimate setting. It seems the days of lashings were over. Another strike prompted a return from her thoughts.

"Two!" she called as he swatted her other cheek. She could feel the heat rising from where he'd struck her.

"Three, four!" she counted as he alternated back and forth between both sides of her bottom. The King was relentless and continued raining his punishment uninterrupted, even as the servant returned with the nightrobe.

By "ten", Amora felt the stinging of her bottom pulsate and translate into red heat. At "thirteen", she was ready to cry but bit back the tears. She only held on for so long, as at fifteen, she felt a tear escape her eye. The last five spanks, the king was merciful and doled them out quicker than she could count, for which she was grateful. Once she'd verbalized "twenty" he stopped and she whimpered more at her wounded pride than the pain. The punishment hadn't been that painful, in fact, the lashings she'd had before probably hurt worse.

What had really upset Amora was the fact that she was being spanked, reprimanded like a child, by him. It was more embarrassing than anything. And as a new punishment, this was an instinctual reaction; she'd never been punished by the King personally. Her behind stung fiercely but it was tolerable.

Even though the punishment was over, the King had not let her up off his lap. Amora dared not move without his permission. She exhaled slowly, swallowing the remnants of her tears and wounded pride as she felt his hands caress the curve of her bottom. She could feel her skin growing even hotter under his touch as he tenderly kneaded the sensitive flesh. Amora caught her breath as she felt a strange stirring in her belly.

This time, the King used two hands to grip both cheeks beneath his hands. She could feel his callouses grazing the raw skin of her ass, yet somehow it soothed the pain of the earlier onslaught. Nothing could be heard but the crackling of the kindling of the fire as he continued to massage her plump flesh. After a few moments, William stopped, helping her to stand.

Amora felt strange. The sensation of pain was still there but what stood out to her more was the conflicting emotions she was experiencing. The punishment hadn't been that bad, had it? So why was she upset? Because she enjoyed it? Because she enjoyed what came after? She couldn't tell, nor could she answer any of these questions in the short seconds she thought about it. The King looked at her, gleaming hazel eyes burning into her like the heat still radiating from her sore bottom.

"You did well," he complimented. Amora nodded, not quite sure if she should thank him for the compliment of receiving her punishment well. The King gestured to the servant who brought the nightrobe to him. He laid it down on the bed before her.

"Dress yourself and then we can eat together." With that, he left the room, exiting through the door that led to his dining chamber. Amora took the precious moments to herself to reflect upon what had just transpired. She had seen two new sides of the King that were both unfamiliar to her, but not necessarily unwelcome. And what was that feeling she'd experienced after her punishment, when the King touched her. She almost hadn't wanted him to stop; she'd felt nearly disappointed when he'd stopped caressing her. Shaking the thought off, she dressed herself and went to dine with the king.

To her delight, the servants had reheated their food over the fire, so her supper was nice as hot. As she sat down, a small squeal escaped her. It hurt a bit to sit down. She found that she had to adjust herself in her seat multiple times before finding a semi-comfortable position. The King, looking up from his parchment letters, offered her a mischievous grin and went back to reading.

Her cheeks flared hotly as she realized his accomplished intent. He'd punished her physically and mentally. Trying not to give him any more satisfaction, Amora finished her meal in silence. When the King finished his, he dismissed her back to her rooms with her previously accompanying escort party.

Later, in her chambers, as Amora lay down in her bed, she replayed the day's events again over in her mind. The way she'd felt when the King had washed her, and after he'd spanked her. Amora tried to convince herself that some small part of her didn't enjoy it. Unable to reason with herself, she turned over, huffed frustratingly and drifted off to sleep.

*******************************************

Thanks again, for taking the time to read and let me know if you liked it! -I.D