“Strombly,” she answers with confidence.
“Good.” I lift my hand and smack her ass, leaving a red mark.
“Oh, fuck,” she says, her back bowing and her head dropping. “Oh God, I wasn’t expecting that.”
To ensure that’s what she wants, I finger her pussy, and to my surprise, she’s already very aroused.
“Did you like that, Lilly?”
“Y-yes, my King,” she answers.
“Then we shall move on. Next question, what is the name of the festival at the end of summer?”
“Torg.”
“And what do we do there?”
“It’s where people from around the country get to trade their handcrafted items, as well as show off their talents that have been passed on from generation to generation. It’s also where you’ll find the best cooked cod cakes in the country. A celebration before the winter months.”
Smack. Smack.
I deliver two spankings to her, causing her to grip the comforter tightly in her grasp.
As she moans, I say, “Good answer.”
“Thank you, my King,” she replies, her voice strained.
“Doing okay, love?” I ask. She offers me an enthusiastic nod, so I continue. “What is King Theo’s full name?”
“Uh . . . oh shit. It’s, uh, Theodore, uh . . . ramakin . . .”
“Lilly, you disappoint me,” I say as I pick up a clothespin from my nightstand. I show it to her, opening and shutting it, and then place it on her nipple, pinching it tightly. A hefty hiss escapes her lips.
“I’m s-sorry, my King,” she answers. “Please correct me and tell me his full name?”
“Theodore Holti Strom, the Third.”
“Thank you for correcting me.”
“Yes, of course.” I smooth my hand over her back, which has broken out in a light sweat. “Next question—what is mead?”
“Fermented honey water, usually drank at Torg after King Theo offers a toast to the country.”
“Very good,” I say to her as I deliver three more slaps to her ass.
“Ah, God,” she yells, her body contorting. The sight of her is so sexy that I adjust my hard-on in my pants.
“Tell me, Lilly, when you get to Strombly, will you be wearing a tiara?”
“No, my King,” she answers. “Tiaras are only for married royals.”
“Good girl,” I say as I reach under her and take the clothespin from her nipple. I roll her sensitive nipple between my fingers and she cries out in pleasure. Moving close, I whisper, “Remember, you don’t come until I tell you.”
“Yes, my King.”
As her body heaves, I bring my hand back to her ass and ask, “What is kulning?”
“The art of herding by using your voice.”
“Very good,” I say as I reach for her vibrator and turn it on. I slowly move it inside of her wet pussy and watch as her body adjusts to the new sensation.
“Fuck . . . me,” she whispers while shifting on the bed.
“When in public and asked for your opinion on the current affairs, what do you say?”
“Nothing,” she answers. “I don’t have an opinion on politics or current affairs.”
“Excellent,” I say right before I spank her ass four times now.
“Uhhhhh,” she moans, her butt lifting, looking for more.
“Where is Strombly located?”
“In the capital, population thirty-two hundred.”
“Now you’re just showing off,” I say as I remove the vibrator and tease her other hole with it.
“Yes, my King,” she says, her body urging me on. “Please, yes.”
Smiling, I reach for the lube I found in her nightstand, and I dribble it along her crack. I gather it with the vibrator and slowly push it into her tight hole. Her head lowers to the mattress as a feral sound falls from her lips.
“Tell me how you feel.”
“Unbelievable, like my body is aware of every pulse, every slap, every pinch. I never want you to stop.”
“Then make sure you keep answering correctly.” Keeping my hand on the vibrator, I ask, “What is my job title?”
She pauses, her head slouching. “Oh God, I . . . I don’t know. Protector?”
“Nice try.” I switch the vibrator off, and she moans in protest. “Private Secretary to the King.”
Instead of saying anything, she groans, her body subtly lowering to the mattress.
“Sit up, Lilly.”
“Sorry,” she says, her legs shaking now.