Her Barbarian Master Read online

  BARBARIAN MASTER

  MAGGIE CARPENTER

  ADULT ADVISORY

  This book is for adults only, and contains scenes of spanking, graphic sex, bondage, sensory deprivation, and are fantasies only, intended for adults. This book is not for children, nor does it condone corporal punishment of children. This book also contains scenes of violence. This book does not support nonconsensual spanking or any other nonconsensual activities, sexual or otherwise.

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  ANGEL MACHO

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  CHAPTER ONE

  The thundering sounds of the horse's hooves sent the humble home shaking. Only five-years-old and desperately in need of her mother's comforting arms, Serenity jumped from her bed and ran to her parents room. As she burst through the door she saw her father with only a loose cloth tied around his waist, and his large hunting club clutched in his white-knuckled fist. Her mother, her eyes wide with fear, was standing behind him.

  "Mamma, what is it?"

  "Barbarians. Quickly, hide under the bed, quickly."

  "Mamma, I'm scared.

  "Do as you mother tells you," her father commanded. "NOW."

  Filled with terror, Serenity darted forward and rolled under the low wooden frame. Tears of fright were running down her face, her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, and she curled herself into a ball as she prayed to the angels to protect them. She'd heard about the fearsome barbarians, how they roamed the lands, took what they wanted, and killed anyone who dared to cross them. Would they kill her mamma and papa and her too?

  A rush of cold air swept around her. Gasping, she held her breath as the sound of stomping feet filled her ears. The dreaded barbarians were in the house! The menacing footsteps were drawing closer, and a moment later she saw a pair of huge feet.

  Suddenly it hit her. She knew what to do!

  Every inch of her tiny body trembling, she crawled out, stood up, and tilting her head all the way back, she stared up at the enormous, ugly, ferocious man towering over her.

  "My papa won't fight you, and neither will mamma, and I won't either, so you don't have to kill us."

  She was shaking, her voice had sounded teeny in her ear, but she'd managed to get the words out, then her mother sobbed, though Serenity didn't understand why?

  "Don't cry, mamma. The nasty man won't hurt you now. He knows we won't fight so he'll spare us, won't you?"

  "You are brave and foolish," the barbarian exclaimed, his voice sounding like the gravel crunching under the wheels of the village carts, "but the two often go together."

  "Of course I will fight you," Serenity's father declared. "I will fight you and die to save my family."

  "Ah, so this is where you inherited your courage and stupidity."

  "Papa isn't stupid," Serenity said angrily, her face crinkling as she stared up at the barbarian's scary black eyes, "and he won't fight you if I ask him nicely."

  "ENOUGH!"

  The barbarian's voluminous voice echoed through the room. She wanted to run back to her hiding place underneath the bed, but she couldn't find her legs. All she could do was continue to gaze up at him, her blue eyes wide and filled with horror.

  "We are the Bachus tribe. I am their leader," the barbarian announced. "We are not here to plunder. We will be living in the ruins at the top of the hill. You are forbidden to venture there. If marauders arrive and attempt to raid your village, we will fight them. We know you are a craftsman, you make knives and tools. We will trade with you for what you offer. Our cousin tribe across the mountain, the Alamans, they too will come here to trade. Do you understand?"

  "What do you have?" Serenity piped up. "Mamma said we need fruit. Do you have—?"

  "We understand," her mother said quickly, cutting her off.

  "Good, and as for you," he continued, looking down at Serenity, "tell me your name."

  "Serenity, what's yours?"

  "HAH. I am Bastian."

  "Why are you so loud? Why can you order us? It's not fair."

  "Your father will tell you about the strong and the weak."

  She watched him abruptly turn, bend down to fit through the bedroom door, then march from the house.

  "He's mean," she said, staring up at her parent, "but I don't think he's as mean as he pretends to be."

  Fifteen Years Later

  Sitting astride the branch of the climbing tree, Serenity watched in dismay as her friend, Layla, tried desperately to pull herself from Bastian's grip. His huge hand was wrapped around Layla's arm, and he was dragging her towards a fallen tree trunk. Serenity had warned Layla not to sneak into the barbarian's compound. Everyone knew the rules. No entering the fortress grounds without permission, and especially not the gardens.

  "You would steal from those who protect you?" Bastian scolded, his booming voice reaching Serenity's ears.

  Layla was squealing and apologizing profusely, but her protestations were having no effect, and as Bastian settled on the log, Serenity knew he was about to spank Layla for her crime.

  An angry frown crossed Serenity's face. It wasn't fair. Layla's family were struggling. A rabid pest had infected their crops, destroying most of them. The other villagers had helped to exterminate the blight, and did their best to provide them with food, but it was a very difficult time, made even more challenging with the birth of a brand new baby.

  "This is wrong," Serenity mumbled. "Bastian needs to understand why Layla did what she did, besides, it was only a couple of oranges."

  Serenity cast her eyes over the bountiful plants. The barbarians were outstanding gardeners, their orchard was lush and full. The villagers didn't know how they had produced such abundance, it was a mystery, but as she pondered the question, the sound of Layla's cries snapped her back to the moment. Returning her gaze across the yard, she saw Layla was now across Bastian's lap, and he had his hands on the hem of her long dress. Serenity knew Layla would be utterly horrified at the pending exposure. Serenity had to save her, or at least try.

  Swiftly maneuvering her way down the climbing tree, she landed on the soft grassy ground and sprinted to the tall iron gate. The barbarians had done much with the ruins, including the repair of the heavy gate that had once been completely askew. The bars were narrow, but not so narrow as to keep out slender young women, and heart pounding, knowing she was about to risk the barbarian's spanking hand, she squeezed between them.

  "Bastian, stop, stop," she yelled, running across the soft warm dirt.

  The barbarian had been focused on sliding the gown slowly up Layla's legs, and startled by the call, he jerked up his head.

  "You don't understand," Serenity continued, breathless and breaking to a walk as she approached. "You need to let her be."

  Though she had seen the tribe's leader from time to time, they hadn't exchanged a single word since that fateful day so many years before, and standing in front of him, she was reminded of the fear she had felt, the fear she was suddenly feeling again. His eyes were as dark as the night, his thick heavy features were vastly different from the gentle, refined faces of her people, and his size—he was a giant.

  "Well, well," he muttered, scowling at her. "You're the girl who dared to confront me as a child. How beautiful you've become. Your name is Serenity."

  "Uh, yes."r />
  "Please, let me go," Layla wailed, "please, sir. I'll never come back here again, not ever. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

  "Be quiet," he barked, landing an unexpected smack.

  The thin fabric of Layla's gown provided no protection from the stinging swat, and though she let out a howl, as the wail passed, she uttered not another word, but laid still, softly whimpering.

  "I see you have not changed," Bastian remarked, gazing at Serenity, his head tilted to one side. "You are still brave and you are still foolish. I must spank you now. The rules are clear."

  "Spank me if you must," she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt, "but you don't understand why Layla came here. You're not being fair. You should at least hear her out."

  "The rules are clear," he repeated. "No entering our domain without permission, and especially not to steal."

  "And how is someone supposed to get permission if someone can't enter?"

  "Exactly."

  "Oh, I see," she said grimly. "You just don't want anyone here for any reason. What if I were to approach you in the village and ask permission?"

  "It would probably be denied, though I might listen."

  His tone was softening, and the deep frown across his broad forehead was easing. She paused, deciding to change her approach. Rather than being demanding, she'd be conciliatory and respectful.

  "Please, Bastian, may I tell you why Layla came here?"

  He squinted, as if studying her, and rather than return his gaze, she stared at the ground.

  "Very well."

  It had worked! She wanted to break into a grin, but managing to suppress her victorious smile, and keeping her eyes lowered, she began to speak.

  "Layla's family is struggling, and struggling badly. Their crops were destroyed by an insect. All of us have helped as much as we can, but life for them is extremely difficult right now. Layla's mother and father are very hard workers, and Layla only wanted a couple of oranges. She wanted to contribute and to brighten their day. We cannot grow oranges on our land as you can."

  "I will not allow either of you to leave here unpunished. It would be bad for my tribe, and word would spread through the village. Soon many would arrive believing they could take what they wished. We have balance and harmony. It must be maintained."

  "We wouldn't tell a soul. I promise," Serenity said fervently. "Please, Bastian."

  "Did you not hear what I just said?"

  "Uh, yes."

  "You want to threaten our peaceful co-existence?"

  Serenity shifted from foot to foot. Was Bastian right? She didn't want him to be, but did he have a point?

  "Must you bare her? Could you at least leave her covered?"

  "I think that would be fair, father."

  Serenity had been so focused on keeping her eyes to the ground and choosing her words carefully, she had neither seen nor heard the younger barbarian's approach. She looked up, and what she saw made her catch her breath. He resembled his father, but his heavy features were handsome, not ghoulish.

  "Killian. I didn't know you were here. This girl over my lap was attempting to steal," Bastian declared. "A bare-bottom spanking is the least she deserves. I should take a leather strap to her backside."

  "Forgive me father, but I couldn't help but overhear the girl's plight. If we were starving, I would enter a forbidden garden to find food."

  "Are you saying she shouldn't be punished?"

  "No, she should. Everyone knows the rules, and this other village girl must be punished as well," he added, gesturing towards Serenity. "She tried to interfere, and she was disrespectful. I heard everything. I was over there by the plum tree, but I don't think it right we bare them. It's their first mistake. If they try it again, then, yes, we should."

  Serenity bristled. The young barbarian had just admitted he would have stolen for his family, yet he was still insisting that Layla be spanked, and she should be too. Suddenly Bastian's wise words about balance and harmony no longer mattered.

  "That's not fair, not fair at all," she exclaimed. "You don't know what it's like to suffer through a blight of pests. For some reason your plants don't fall victim to such things, and you have more than enough, and you're big and strong and you can hunt. We can't, and for you to be so nasty and pass such harsh judgement on us is wrong."

  The words had tumbled out of her without pause or thought, and as her eyes blazed up at him, then fell back on Bastian, she realized she'd just sealed her fate.

  "With your permission, father, I shall spank her. She is rude, and she doesn't know her place."

  "I agree," Bastian said solemnly, nodding his head. "She must be taught a lesson."

  "NO! I won't let you!"

  Lunging forward Serenity grabbed Layla's wrist, yanking her off Bastian's lap. It happened so quickly, and was so unexpected, it caught Bastian completely off guard. By the time he reacted and tried to catch her, they were both sprinting across the grounds towards the gate, but Serenity realized squeezing through the iron bars would slow them down, and might result in their capture.

  "No, not the gate," she panted, "we have to climb trees and jump over the wall. Let's split apart."

  "You're right," Layla breathlessly replied. "I'll take the apple tree, you take the orange."

  Serenity darted to the left, but as she did the muscles in her right leg fiercely protested. Ignoring the sharp pain, she tried to run faster, but she could feel her leg refusing her desperate request. Layla, taller and more athletic, had sprinted ahead and was almost at the apple tree. Serenity could hear heavy footsteps behind her, but her leg was badly cramping. Layla was now scampering up the trunk, and determined to beat her pursuer, Serenity pushed through the acute shard of pain, but she was suddenly being lifted off her feet. She let out a wail, then realized it wasn't Bastian who had her, but Bastian's brawny son.

  "PUT ME DOWN. PUT ME DOWN!"

  With deft ease he threw her over his shoulder, then landed a swift stinging slap.

  "Be quiet. I will be harder on you if you keep up that racket."

  "YOU'RE A BEAST AND A BRUTE," she howled, paying no heed to his warning and beating her fists into his back.

  She had meant every word, but she was also attempting to distract him. As he had lifted her, she had spied Layla throwing apples across the wall before climbing along the branch and dropping out of sight. A second hot smack hit her backside, and with Layla safely gone, all thought switched to her perilous plight.

  "Spank her in the hall."

  Serenity couldn't see Bastian, but his thick, gravelly voice was unmistakable.

  "I would rather have privacy. I'll take her to my rooms."

  "Very well, but don't keep her too long. I don't want her family coming up here looking for her. I've had enough of the villagers for one day."

  "Don't you dare take me anywhere," Serenity shouted. "I demand you put me down!"

  "I won't father," Killian replied, completely ignoring Serenity's outburst. "Just long enough to do what must be done."

  CHAPTER TWO

  As Killian carried Serenity through the gardens towards the back of the ruins, every time she pounded on his back or demanded to be released, she was rewarded with a hot slap, but she refused to surrender. By the time they moved under a large archway and entered the castle her bottom was burning. When he started up a wide staircase she stopped her protests, but not because she was giving in, but because her surroundings distracted her.

  From the front the castle appeared derelict, but she could see many signs of its former splendor. The walls were solid, and showed no signs of the battles the fortress had seen, and as Killian turned down a wide hallway, she spied paintings still hanging on the walls.

  He stopped, and craning her neck she was able to see him pushing open a tall dark wooden door. He didn't have to bend down to pass through it, and the room they entered was far grander than any she'd ever imagined. The furniture was made from rough wood, but the room was expansive and boasted a huge bed co
vered in fur, a wide table with several seats, and a fireplace with furry pelts covering the floor directly in front of it. She was expecting him to sit down and bend her over his lap, and she nervously waited, but he continued to move around the room carrying her over his shoulder, apparently searching for something.

  "Can you please put me down?"

  She had used her soft, pleading voice, the one that had worked surprisingly well with Bastian, and was always effective with her parents.

  "I have yet to punish you."

  "I don't understand."

  "Hush, you will, ah, there it is."

  He leaned slightly forward, and though her vantage point didn't allow her to see what he was picking up, a moment later a hard piece of wood was laying against the full width of her bottom.

  "What you feel is my punishment paddle. It is what I use to discipline my women, and now it will discipline you. I would advise you not to put your hands behind you. Usually I tie the wrists before putting a woman over my shoulder, but perhaps it is good you're not bound. You will learn to obey."

  "Obey?"

  "If you do not do as I tell you, and try to use your hands to cover your backside, the paddle will hit your knuckles. Nothing stops me from swatting once I begin."

  "But, uh, how long will you—?"

  "Three turns, beginning now."

  Serenity had no idea what he'd meant by three turns, and she didn't have time to ask. The paddle abruptly landed with its hot sting, and letting out a loud yelp, it took all her fortitude not to throw her arms behind her and grab her seat. As he stepped forward he spanked her again, and she urgently clutched his shirt. The paddle struck once more, and this time she squirmed in his hold.

  "OWWW, please, stop, it hurts."

  He didn't respond, but continued his slow walk, swinging the paddle with each stride. The rhythm was steady, and though the predictability helped, it did nothing to mitigate the searing heat permeating her backside. Squeezing her eyes shut, she cried loudly with every swat, until at last he stopped.