Emma awoke in her cell, or she thought it was her cell, but it felt stuffy and was totally dark. The cover on her bed was a warm furry fabric and felt quite pleasant against her body.
She wriggled her buttocks against it and winced, they were very sore after the whipping.
She tried to turn over, but discovered that she couldn't move more than a few centimetres.
She was tied to the bed, by soft nylon ropes, which didn't chafe, but wouldn't permit more than a slight wriggle.
She needed to urinate, but couldn't cry out, as her mouth was full of a soft material.
Emma began to panic. She'd read 'Death of a Princess' and knew that the people who'd put her to the test yesterday were going to kill her. She prayed that God would let her die quickly.
Emma felt a sharp pain and then lost all sense of consciousness.
She felt light and warmth on her face and realised that she wasn't dead. She opened her mouth and air – blessed, cool air flooded in. Emma opened her eyes.
She was in a large bedroom, lying in a four-poster bed. She tried to move her legs and found that she could – she was free! Emma smiled and sighed in relief. Thank you, she thought. I'm still here.
The door opened and a young girl entered carrying a tray, which she set onto a table near to the bed.
The girl smiled, bent her head and left the room. Emma sat up in bed and stretched out her arms and discovered that she wasn't naked – oh, what a joy to be wearing a piece of clothing again, even if was just a white cotton nightdress, but oh, it felt good.
Emma sat there for a few moments enjoying the feeling of the sun on her face and looked over at the table with the tray on it. There were two plates and cups on it and a coffee pot. The door opened again and Sir James entered.
He looked at his wife and smiled at her. 'Emma, my darling, we're home. This is my castle in Scotland, where we were married, if you remember. Now, we are going to eat breakfast together. A wedding breakfast, if you think about it. Just the two of us.'
James put down the plate that he was carrying onto the table and sat down on the bed. He stroked Emma's cheek and leant forward and kissed her, softly at first, but as she responded to his kiss, he leaned into it, slowly touching her tongue with his. They rolled over together onto the bed and carried on kissing.
Emma put her arms around James' neck and pulled him close to her. She moved her arms down his body, caressing his back and pulling his buttocks towards her.
James stroked Emma's hair and ran his hand down her back, stroking her buttocks, which made her flinch slightly.
He broke off from the kiss and lifted up the nightdress.
'Ah, the marks are bruising up nicely. They do look quite sexy, but I don't think I'm going to whip you that hard. It was interesting to see how you responded, but I prefer not to mark you. Which I'm sure you will be pleased to hear?'
Emma swallowed and nodded. 'Thank you, Sir James.'
James stroked Emma's thigh and as she moaned quietly, overcome with emotional relief and sexual arousal, he stood up and quickly took off his clothes.
'Emma, I can't let you get pregnant yet, so we are either going to have to use contraception, or only have anal sex. I prefer anal, but what do you want?'
Emma had never been asked this before and was almost speechless. She'd forgotten what it felt like to make a decision, having been accustomed to following orders for so long.
'My lord...anal, I think.'
'Right, well, as they say...bottoms' up!' He laughed and pushed her into a head-down kneeling position. He rubbed some lubrication onto his throbbing penis and slowly inserted it, pulling out and re-penetrating every few thrusts.
Within a few minutes he was thrusting hard, gripping Emma's sore buttocks and eyes closed, he was imagining Emma in all sorts of situations, double penetrations, oral deep throating and lost in his fantasy, found himself losing control and came hard, as Emma practised her anal sex technique of tightening and releasing the sphincter muscle.
He pulled out. 'That was incredible. Thank you darling. Go and wash and clean yourself and we'll eat breakfast together.'
Ten minutes later, she was sitting opposite him at the small table and James pulled the bell to summon one of the servants.
A slight rap at the door signalled the arrival of a man – an actual butler, who was carrying another tray with food and coffee.
'Emma, this is my manservant, Mr Dobbs. He is the butler here and he knows all the secrets and passions of my household. Is that correct Mr Dobbs?'
'That is correct my lord.' The butler inclined his head slightly and left the room.
He was tall and shaven-headed and ever so slightly intimidating. Emma hoped that he wouldn't get to know her secrets and passions.
After breakfast was eaten and the trays removed, James and Emma were alone.
'Sir James, what happened?
