“You live in a world of exceptionally dangerous gods. Tonight, you baited them all. One of them almost took that bait. Do you know what could happen to you?”
“Tell me.”
“There is not enough time to begin to recount the many horrors which befall the innocent and arrogant. You will have to believe me, and do as I say.”
“And what is it you say?”
“That I am taking you home.”
“Nope. Not interested in that.”
“I am disciplining you, then taking you home,” he corrects himself.
“You are absolutely not.”
But he is.
He takes me by the hand and leads me over to an opalescent bench seat which by itself alone is almost more beautiful than anything I have ever seen.
I am so shocked, and perhaps so curious that I barely argue as he pulls me over his godly thighs. This is the most any male has ever touched me. I am caught off guard by the internal cascade which occurs in reaction.
There’s immediate excitement, a bolt of pure pleasure which rushes from the core of me and finds the deviant spot between my thighs where all my most delicious thoughts arise. I have never felt this with anybody else before. These feelings have been constrained to private times, the depths of the night. They have been mine and mine alone. Now, with one sudden, swift move, they are ours.
Triton doesn’t know what he has done to me, what intangible barrier has been broken, what bond has been immediately and perhaps even irrevocably formed.
I am still shocked at his strength. I first felt it when he took me from the shore. There was no way I could have resisted him then, and there is no way I can stop him now. His big, muscular arm wraps around my waist and snugs me in place.
Then the pain starts. A sharp slap delivered to one cheek, followed by another slap to the other. It is an explosive heat, a sting which seeps through my skin and spreads through my body in a warm welling swell.
He’s holding me so firmly I cannot move. Cannot escape. Cannot even squirm meaningfully. I am unable to escape the slaps. As they multiply, my skin grows hotter and the pain starts to intensify. This is a brutal, barbaric, entirely ungodly punishment and I don’t really understand what I have done to earn it.
“Why!? Why are you doing this to me?!”
“Why? Because you flaunted yourself to a room full of gods, and then ran off with one of them, a god who is as deceptive and deviant as they come. You are fortunate he has his gaze set on your sister.”
I look back up and over my shoulder at Triton’s stern face. “He does? He wants Raine? Really?”
Triton replies by scowling and slapping my bottom again. “That is hardly the matter at hand, Lucy. You are.”
“I mean — Raine. Raine? I was there. And he wants Raine? Nobody wants Raine.”
He replies with a flurry of much harder, rougher swats which make me squeal and forget all about whatever might or might not be happening with my older sister.
“You,” he growls. “You have put a target on your back, and front, and every other part of you. And then you made another decision which could have resulted in endless pain for you and all you know.”
“I’m in endless pain now!”
“This is not endless pain. This will end and then you will go back to your father’s palace and you will stay there until you have matured.”
“I’m eighteen!”
“Eighteen,” he snorts. “Eighteen is the life of a mayfly.”
“My mother says that is when we become grown.”
“Some mortal notion, I am sure. I doubt she will believe that after the events of this evening. You have been thoroughly irresponsible…”
“What do you care! I’m not your problem. I’m not your daughter.”
“I am a god. It is in my nature to look out for those who need looking out for. You, Lucy, are wayward. If somebody does not do something now, you will be harmed. That is a certainty. You are not yet old enough to understand all the forces of this world, or the fact that your beauty is as great a curse as it is a blessing.”
His words are almost sweet. I could consider swooning, but moments later he starts spanking me again and all notion of sweetness is driven from my head by his punishing palm.
“I do not tolerate disrespect,” he lectures.
“I didn’t disrespect you! I disrespected them!”
“Disrespecting your parents in my presence is disrespecting me,” he growls.
He spanks me again, just as hard. I feel silly and small, and all the burgeoning desire rushing through my veins has been jolted out to leave me sore and, yes, sorry.
“You are a princess of the realm. You will behave as such. You will show respect to your family and your subjects, and you will not go running about with strange gods.”
Nobody has ever spoken to me this way. I am, first and foremost, the child of Helios and he has never permitted me to be disciplined.
I am shocked. I am sore. I am surprised at my own capacity for discomfort and what the sensation he is imparting to my skin is doing to other parts of me, parts which lie at the core of me, slumbering like the night sun and now burning just as bright.
As he continues to spank me past the point of my capacity to bear it stoically, tears spring to my eyes. A combination of shame, helplessness, and pain makes it impossible to maintain composure. I am in trouble, for the first time in my life. I am unexpectedly facing the wrath of an authority who will not be disobeyed. I do not know how to handle this. I've never experienced it before, and I do not like it.
I have never been struck before. I have hardly been disciplined. Instead, I have been confined. My sister and I were restricted to the palace for the most part, and the island at most. We never left our native shores of the island where we were born, unless you count riding Helios’ winged horses, but we never landed anywhere else. The most censure I have received up until this very point was Ragnar making me put clothes on when I tried to party naked.
Triton’s punishment shocks and appalls me. My tears start to course down my cheeks, punctuated by sobs. I don't know whether to apologize or beg for mercy, but I have a feeling it doesn’t matter.
The sound of his hand hitting my cheeks echoes around the room, as do my gasps and whimpers. This empty space seems to have been defined by and designed for one purpose: making me miserable and sore.
I lash out with my words, because I cannot defend myself physically. He is an ancient brute and there is no material escape. There may, however, be a verbal one.
“It’s not my fault you don't like to see anybody having fun! You hide down here all the time and you growl at everybody and you’re hurting me because I had the most fun out of everybody and you can’t handle it!”
“You are missing the point of this exercise,” Triton growls. “This is not about fun. This is about safety.”
“If I want to walk around naked, I should be able to do so! I don’t care if it makes other gods want me. That’s a them problem, not a me problem.”
He pauses. He lets me up. My gods, did that work?
Triton looks me in the eye, even though I can hardly meet his gaze. “You are right.”
“I am?” I didn’t expect him to acknowledge me, let alone agree with me, especially after he was the one to lecture me about parading myself around. “Is this all just an excuse for you to put your big, mean hands on me? Did you want to see me cry?”