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What I Need

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As far as Peter was concerned, Wrina Olivia had thus far proved to be a good cantala, nothing outrageous, embarrassing or humiliating had been asked of him since he had started his service at Bardero Dunham. His first cycles of being a telpa had been better than he had expected when he had first decided he had no choice but to become a telpa. The training he had had with Taskmaster Anjenne each day at Bardero Parr’ish had been interesting, he had learned many new pleasure techniques and a great deal of massage.

Learning the commands he needed to know as a body telpa for his cantala was the most difficult part of the training. His father had never had enough funds to keep telpa, if there had been enough funds, Peter would not have been in a position to contract himself out as a telpa to pay his father’s debts when their Bardero had been broken. He might have ended up in a debtor’s prison and sentenced to a worse fate.

Peter had expected to be chosen to serve as a breeder for a Wrina that didn’t want to take a husband, or perhaps had an infertile husband. His bloodlines were strong, even if his family had been poor. The life of a concubine hadn’t seemed too terrible. It would have been better than working in the fields. But Wrina Olivia had seen him at the pens and taken him to be a body telpa.

She had been reluctant to take him from Zem’s, the elite pen where she had found him. At first, she had claimed she needed a telpa that could stand up to rough play. He had eagerly confessed that he liked pain. That seemed to seal the deal, she had bought his contract and taken him to Bardero Parr’ish and left him there for a course of training as a personal body telpa.

Taskmaster Anjene had worked him hard, making sure he was not only competent at following commands, but that he excelled at each and every command a body telpa might be given. Only when he tested to the Taskmaster’s satisfaction was he sent along home to Bardero Dunham. He would only need to return there part of the day for training on a few days during the cycle.

Thus far, the Wrina had been rather tame with him. There had been no pain. He had been called to her rooms to massage her several times. Another time to bathe her. She had taken him to her bed, but had not been as rough as he would have expected from the way she spoke to him at Zem’s. She eventually made him move out of the dormitories and into her room, claiming she wanted him at hand whenever the mood struck her to make use of his body.

Peter was rather disappointed, he had wanted the rough handling she had spoken of at Zem’s.

He had learned of his predilection for painful play quite by accident, and not in a manner that was sensual in any way. He had been disrespectful to a visiting scholar and his father had been infuriated. Peter had been hauled across his father’s knee and spanked as punishment for the first time at the age of twelve. His ass had burned as he limped to his room to serve out the rest of his punishment; banishment to his room without an evening meal. When he got there, his cock had been rock hard. He would always remember the way his ass had pained him as he leaned back, rubbed up and down against the wall and stroked himself until he spilled.

The Wrina snorted in her sleep and rolled onto her side. This was very odd, sharing a bed every night with a woman. He had had sexual partners, but he had never slept the night with any of his previous assignations. He could not say that he did not like it, it was just different.

They had all been failures. He had wanted more than they could give him, none had been able to comprehend what he meant when he told them to hurt him, to hit his ass hard. They didn’t understand that he wanted to be punished. He could occasionally get a pinched nipple, a limp handed squeeze of his scrotum, playful and half-hearted spanking, but none had been able to take him to the edge of the pleasure-pain that he sought.

He had hoped the Wrina would be different. Perhaps he yearned for too much. He drifted off to sleep fantasizing what it would be like if Wrina Olivia bent him over a table and paddled his ass.


Peter had massage lessons in the morning at Bardero Parr’ish, followed by some household tasks he had been assigned as part of his duties at Bardero Dunham. While polishing furniture in the hallway, he saw the Wrina come in with a very dark-skinned man and go into the study. They were in there for a very long time and Peter heard raised voices coming from inside. They called for wine several times, Peter was tasked with carrying it in to them. There were papers everywhere and the Wrina did not look to be in a good mood. The man Broyles ignored him.

He suspected that she had been drinking all day and he found he was correct when he was summoned to her rooms that evening. The room was mostly dark when he entered. The Wrina turned up the gas of the lamp beside her chair and waved him over without a word. She had a bottle clenched between her knees and was slumped loosely in her chair.

Peter noticed that her words were slightly slurred. “You’ve been adapting quite well to the change in your circumstances. I’ve had good reports from Taskmaster Anjenne and from my head housekeeper. I am pleased with your service so far. I think you have earned a boon, Peter.”

“Wrina Dunham?” he asked, moving to stand before her chair. This was unexpected.

The Wrina tilted her head back against the back of the chair and stared at him. “Go into the trunk at the foot of my bed. Pick anything out of it that you wish me to use on you. I’ll give you the pain you said you wanted, before I make my demands on you tonight.”

Peter shuddered in anticipation at the thought of what might be in the trunk, of anything he might find within it touching his skin. There were at least a dozen different things that hung on the wall at Bardero Parr’ish that would bring him pleasure, any one of them might be here in Wrina Olivia’s trunk. But he didn’t need to go look there. What he wanted was right here in this room. It was a boon, he could ask for what he wished the Wrina to use on him. He knelt at Wrina Dunham’s feet. When the Wrina shifted to look down at him, her eyes were a little bloodshot and there was sadness in her expression. Peter reached up and gently lifted the Wrina’s hand. “I would prefer if you were to use this, Wrina Dunham.”

“You want me to hit you?” The Wrina turned her hand in Peter’s light grip. Peter rubbed the palm with his thumb.

“Spank me, please?”

“Hhhmmm. Very well. Gan, we’ll do this properly.”

Releasing the Wrina’s hand and standing up, Peter quickly divested himself of his boots, pants, tunic and small clothes. Watching him strip, Wrina Dunham licked at her lower lip and patted her thigh. ”Ame!” Peter bent over the Wrina’s legs, balancing himself on his knuckles and toes, keeping his ass in the right position for the Wrina to land a solid slap. His cock was pressed against the rough fabric of the Wrina’s trousers.

With the first slap she laid on him, Peter knew this would be exactly what he wanted, what he needed to feel sexual satisfaction. The Wrina’s palm touched his skin assertively and the slap had not been tentative like those he had gotten in the past. The Wrina did not let up, she repeatedly slapped Peter’s ass, alternating cheeks and catching his upper thighs occasionally. Peter’s cock was soon hard, heavy and dripping.

The Wrina paused and rubbed a palm over the hot skin. “I think I should stop now. If I continue, you’ll be bruised.”

Peter’s head was dangling between his arms. He was feeling wonderfully fuzzy at the edges, teetering on the brink of absolute pleasure. “Please, more. Keep going Wrina Dunham, please.”

“I think I’ll have to watch you more carefully than I thought, and take a more personal hand in your training.” Another series of hard smacks landed, Peter grunted and gasped with each of them, pushing forward on his toes, his cock mashing up against the rough fabric covering the Wrina’s thigh.

“Oh, yes, you’re going to be bruised here.” Wrina Dunham landed a particularly hard hit in a spot that was quickly growing tender, the skin was so hot it was burning. Peter whimpered and she clucked her tongue. “Not too much more, I need to leave you capable of walking, and I doubt you will be sitting at all tomorrow.” The last few strikes were hard. Still teetering in the wonderful haze of bliss and breathing heavily, Peter was barely aware of being moved off the Wrina’s lap onto the floor. A cushion was arranged under his chest and the Wrina roughly slid a hand around his middle and hauled his ass up, getting him onto his knees in a sloppy Sis.

Heat and pain made him see stars as the Wrina pushed up against him, holding his hips in a firm grip, digging the nails into his skin. As the Wrina’s pelvis hit his sore ass, raw from the beating, yet another new pain washed over him. Peter cried out with it and slid over into rapture, floating on waves of pleasure.

“Yeah, that’s it. Hurts, does it? You like this, don’t you?” The Wrina grumbled near his ear as she leaned over him. “Tell me you want more.”

“Yes, please. Yesssss,” he sobbed.

His small plea urged the Wrina on, she reached around him and grasped his cock, jerking him as she continued to spank him lightly. More slaps landed hard on his ass and Peter yelped or gasped with each one. His ass hurt, and he was in ecstasy like he had never been before.

The spanking stopped and she pushed at him, forcing him to roll over onto his back. She straddled him and began to grind her sex against him. The motion made his whole body shift against the cushions, sending waves of pain through him as his raw skin chafed on the fabric.

The Wrina took him into her body, riding him roughly. She reached up with her hands and twisted his nipples, which made him buck up, thrusting more deeply into her just as she came down upon him.

Peter spilled with a cry, his body in spasm, unable to control anything any longer. He went limp under the Wrina, feeling his cantala still gyrating against him. In that moment, he decided he didn’t want to be anywhere else but here, with this woman that had figured out what he needed.


“What am I going to do with you?” Olivia said, as she slid down to rest against Peter’s chest as he sprawled on the floor cushions. The telpa had gone completely boneless, seemingly lost in the pain and overcome by his climax. Olivia had come across plenty of people that enjoyed playing with pain, but she had never thought she would find one suited to her personality and tendency to be rough during sex. Now she had one sharing her bed.

Peter smiled up at her stupidly, obviously still in the throes of rapture. Concerned, Olivia wasn’t sure the telpa was even following her words as she asked him if he was all right. She snapped her fingers in front of Peter’s eyes. “Say your name!” she said sharply, trying to bring him back down a little.

“Pe-ter,” the telpa replied, drawing out the syllables and blinking up at Olivia.

“Do I need to get a healer up here?” Olivia started to worry that perhaps she had gone too far, though it would be the first time she had lost control in such a manner. She had been drinking a lot during and after Broyles’ latest visit, perhaps she had misjudged her strength?

The telpa frowned and shook his head. “No, all good. Feel good. Sleepy?”

“All right, Peter. Time for you to go to bed. Come along, get up, I am not carrying you.” There was no way she could, Peter was too heavy. Olivia grasped the telpa’s arm firmly and pulled him up. She shoved Peter into the bathing room to use the flusher and waited to make sure he didn’t fall over and hurt himself. He was wobbling on his feet as if he were drunk and looked as if he might fall off the flusher onto the tile floor once or twice before he finished and washed himself.

Olivia led him to the bed chamber, pushed him onto the bed and left him there to see to her own needs. When she returned to the bedchamber a while later to retire for the night, the telpa was still in the same position, on his belly with his arms straight down at his sides. The covers were tight with Peter lying on top of them, but Olivia managed to get under them after dousing the lamp.

She woke when she heard whimpering beside her. She immediately turned and lit the oil lamp beside the bed, then rolled over towards her distressed bedmate. The telpa was shivering violently. “Peter, you need to get under the covers.” Olivia touched his shoulder and gave a gentle shake. “Wake up, you have to get under the blanket, you are too heavy for me to move you around without hurting you right now, you have to move yourself.”

The telpa groaned and pushed himself up to his knees and slid off the bed to stand on the floor and push feebly at the blankets. Grasping the edge of the sheet and blanket, Olivia lifted the covers so that Peter could get under them. She felt a little guilty for not thinking to cover him up earlier. But she blamed the alcohol for her absent mindedness. Though the night was warm enough, the telpa was bruised from his spanking; sometimes bruising led to fever, if it was severe enough.

Peter’s teeth were chattering. Shit. Perhaps she had gone too far, it had been a long time since she had played like this.

“Come here,” Olivia said, lifting her arm. “Shift over here, Peter, share body heat.” Peter quickly scooted over and pressed against her as Olivia dropped her arm over his back. Concerned that he might be feverish, Olivia pressed her lips to Peter’s forehead. “No fever. You’ll warm up soon. Is the pain bearable?”

“Yes, Wrina Dunham.”

It felt odd and impersonal sharing her bed with someone that was constantly using her title, even if it was right and proper for the telpa to do so. She thought about it as she rubbed the telpa’s back to help warm him up. “When we are here, in bed, you may call me Olivia.”


“No, just Olivia. There are precious few people that use my name, and half of those I would prefer did not speak to me at all. It would make a nice change to hear a friendly voice calling me by my given name.”

She felt Peter nod against her chest. “Thank you,” the telpa whispered.

The shivering started to subside, which was a relief, Olivia was not very good with sickness. She was notoriously intolerant of it in herself and others, having little patience for weakness. Luckily, she was possessing of a very healthy constitution and had rarely been ill in her lifetime. “Feeling better?”

“Yes, Wr... Olivia. I’m warmer now,” Peter replied sleepily. Not long after, Olivia heard him snore softly. She decided not to dwell on the fact that she was stroking Peter’s soft hair and lightly rubbing the sleeping telpa’s scalp. It was something she preferred not to look into too deeply at the moment.


The Wrina was leaving the city on a business trip and would be gone for a few days. Peter was helping her to pack and prepare. He had just taken her trunk down to the stables to be packed on the carriage and returned to see what else needed to be done.

“Wrina Olivia?” Peter called as he went towards the bedchamber.


He had no right to ask, indeed, he might be punished for the presumption, but he blurted out, “Would you spank me, before you leave?”

Rather than being angry, Olivia was smiling as she met him at the bedchamber door. “Do you deserve a spanking?”

“I’ve been speaking out of turn all evening,” Peter said hopefully. “And I wished evil things upon your guest Sasso Broyles.”

Olivia laughed loudly and Peter felt an odd flutter in his gut at the sound. The Wrina smiled infrequently and laughed even less. She was a very serious woman. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and grinned at him. “Perhaps you should spank me.” When Peter pouted at the suggestion, Olivia relented. “Very well. Do you want a paddle?”

“Your hand, Wrina, please, I would prefer your hand on me.”

“Shall I put you on your hands and knees, or take you over my knee again?”

“Oh in your lap, please, Wrina,” Peter shuddered at the memory of the last time. “Please, mark me.”

“You were black and blue for a cycle. I will not leave you here in that condition. I will spank you, however, and then I will ride you. And in the morning, the last thing I am going to do before I leave is take you.”

Peter was certain his cock was dripping in anticipation, excited by the Wrina’s words and the thought of another spanking.

“Gan!” his cantala barked and Peter’s knees turned to jelly as he quickly removed his clothing and tossed it aside. “Now mine.” Peter’s hands were shaking as he undid the Wrina’s ties and buttons and pushed her clothing down over her shoulders. He untied her waist ties and pushed her trousers down her legs She stepped out of the clothing and trailed her fingers along his collarbone.

Wrina Olivia sat on her leather chair, though she stayed to the edge of it. She took Peter’s wrist and pulled him close. Peter moved to lie across her knees, but Olivia stopped him. “Straddle my legs, sit on my lap.”

He did so, the position putting him nearly nose to nose with his cantala. Olivia put her hands on Peter’s hips. “Reach between us, take your cock in your hand.” When Peter had done so, Olivia let out a hiss of breath. “Bir.” It was awkward, moving his hand with them pressed together so intimately. He forgot about that though as he stared into Wrina Olivia’s eyes, watching her watch him as he stroked himself and let out a groan. The Wrina’s fingers dug into his ass as her hands moved around to hold him and she started to buck her knees up a little, bouncing Peter slightly.

“Ard. Stop. Enough. I don’t want you to finish yet. I want to hear you calling my name like you did the last time.”

With her hands on Peter’s waist, she lifted him up slightly and shifted him, then when she couldn’t move him to her satisfaction, commanded gruffly, “Turn around.” Peter trembled in excitement as Olivia pulled him back against her and stroked his sides and his chest, her breasts pressed against his back. Olivia reached around and dragged a finger along Peter’s hard and straining cock. “I am thinking of a leather worker I know of in the islands. I think I shall bring you back a treat if you behave. Perhaps something in metal, if I find the time. Something I will wrap around your cock to keep you hard long after you need to release.”

Peter let out a whimper as Wrina Olivia circled his cock with thumb and forefinger and tightened her hold. “Just like this, right there. Would you like that, pet?”

“Oh, yes, Wrina Olivia,” Peter said in a shaking voice. It was the first time the Wrina had called him a pet and he had liked the affectionate sound of it.

The Wrina stroked the curve of his hip gently and Peter’s cock twitched. “Do you like being my pet? Will you miss me when I’m away?”

He had been trying not to think about it. “Yes, Wrina Olivia.”

“Just Olivia tonight.” The Wrina seemed content to shift him around on her lap to touch him, rubbing a finger across the skin between his balls and anus, grasping his balls in her hand and bouncing them lightly as she ran her fingers over the wrinkled skin. She took Peter’s cock between two fingers and stroked him up and down, then ran her thumb over the slit.

“I know a man who works metals. He makes rods of smooth silver, a full set has several different widths. Do you have an idea what they are used for?”

He shuddered, his legs tingling as they dangled over the sides of Olivia’s legs. “No, Olivia, please tell me.”

Olivia touched a finger to his slit. “They’re for sliding in here. I’m told it is both painful and pleasurable as the rod is slipped in and plunged down, then withdrawn and repeated, over and over. One by one, these rods are inserted, each time a size is changed, the slit widens more.” Olivia was whispering the words as she jerked her hand up and down on Peter’s cock. “Would that be a good treat for you, Peter, my pet?”

“Please, Wrina Dunham, please. Yes.”

The Wrina released her hold on Peter’s cock. ”Ame,” Olivia slapped his belly and Peter quickly slid off her lap and moved into place. His cock was between Olivia’s knees. He was on his toes to keep his ass in position, his head dangling down, his fingertips touching the floor to keep his balance. “You have an ass made for taking a cock, do you know that? I had offers for you, after we went to The Pit and others saw you. Offers to rent you, to buy you. But you’re mine. This ass is mine.”

“Yours,” Peter whispered in agreement.

“Some fools might ruin an ass like this,” Olivia said, rubbing her hand over Peter’s skin. “They would stretch it out, put a whole hand or something grossly oversized up there. I want you tight. No more than a plug now and again. Nothing that won’t heal up.”

The rise and fall of Olivia’s voice was lulling Peter. Then the first hard slap came and he jerked in surprise. Olivia closed her knees at the same time, holding Peter’s cock firmly, keeping him from moving too much. He let out a breath and waited for the next smack.

“Did you have many women, Peter? Answer me.”

It was hard to think, why did Olivia want talk? “A few, Wrina. Six.”

“You fucked six different women?”

Peter shifted position and his cock throbbed between Olivia’s knees. “I only spilled inside two of them.”

“Was there someone special before me? Did you like them,?”

“No. Not much. It wasn’t enough. They didn’t give me what I needed.”

“This?” Another hard smack.

“Yes, Olivia. More, please.”

Olivia pinched his side, in a spot that was not at all pleasurable. “Do not rush me. I will get you there. You want the bliss. I like you when you are like that. I want to watch you float and take you when you are completely loose.” Another smack landed and then he was shoved off Olivia’s lap.

“Rer,” Olivia headed to the bedchamber. Peter slowly got to his feet and followed. Olivia was sitting on the edge of the bed, on Peter's side. She slapped her thigh and Peter quickly moved to take his former position. The bed was much higher than the chair, however, and his feet and hands did not reach the floor. He was off balance. Olivia wrapped one arm over his lower back and began to slap his ass with her open palm. She varied the intensity and placement of the smacks so that Peter could not guess where the next would be. He stopped trying to think and hung limply over his cantala’s knees. He let out sighs and grunts as the hits landed. He chanted her name.

“You need the pain?”

“Yes, please, Olivia.”

The Wrina reached under him and grasped his cock. She squeezed and then began to yank him roughly, squeezing and twisting as she jerked him. Peter felt something snap within him, like a wave of heat that washed over his body He let out a deep sigh and he squirted into Olivia’s hand. The wet hand was then returned to his ass and the spanking resumed as before.

He lost track of time and what was happening. He heard Olivia talking to him, but couldn’t follow the words. He was awkwardly wrestled off her knees and over onto the bed, he crawled over on the mattress when she shoved at him. Olivia flipped him over and grasped his chin, looking down into his face. “Good?”

“So good,” Peter replied dreamily.

She straddled him, rubbing against his softened cock, pleasuring herself on him. She ran her hands over his chest, pinching his nipples as he liked to have done. He grew hard again and she grasped his cock and wriggled back to take him inside her. He thrust up lazily, floating in a haze of pleasure-pain. Peter sighed and hummed as he was taken by his cantala.

“Such a good pet. You like this, don’t you? No one else does this for you. My pet,” Olivia was rambling as she moved on him.

Peter let out a long low keening noise. “So good. So good,” he chanted.

He felt her begin to shudder as she peaked. He did not pull out immediately, he continued to move inside her, holding her hips loosely and pushing up into her as she dropped her head and her long red hair brushed against his belly. He peaked again and poured into her. She sighed and fell forward, sprawled out over him, her weight pressing him into the mattress.

They both slept.


She woke him at First Bell, shaking him roughly. She rolled onto her back and spread her legs, holding her arms open in invitation. He moved to kneel between her thighs, sliding into her gently, thrusting in and out slowly as he kept a steady gaze on her face in the dawn light.

Her hands moved over his chest as he pumped into her and withdrew slowly. “Mine,” Olivia whispered, lifting her legs and wrapping them around his waist.

This was for the Wrina. Peter suspected that this was her way of saying goodbye. Olivia was touching him all over, her hands caressing his back and arms, his thighs, the small of his back.

Olivia’s hand drifted to his face and cupped his cheek. She leaned up and caught Peter’s lips in a rare kiss, sucking on his lower lip and holding it before falling back. He was in no hurry to reach a peak, he was enjoying the sensations of taking her slowly like this.

“You are so pleasing to me. To look on, to have with me. You have been one of the greatest surprises of my life, Peter.” Her hand drifted down Peter’s throat and he reached up and caught it, intertwining their fingers.

Eventually, he needed to increase the pace as he felt his peak coming. “I don’t want you to leave yet, Olivia I want to stay right here, buried inside you,” he whispered and pulled Olivia up into his arms and held her until he spilled and was forced by nature to pull out.

She sadly rolled off the bed and gathered her traveling clothing and left to go to the bathing room. Peter followed soon after because he really needed to use the flusher. When he got there, Olivia was leaning against the wall in the bath under the water stream, her eyes closed and her head down. Peter quickly used the flusher and then stepped up behind Olivia, wrapping his arms around her and pressing against her back.

“I don’t want to go,” Olivia confessed.

“I’ll be here waiting when you come back,” Peter whispered. Olivia turned and pulled Peter to her, kissing him full on the lips, forcing his mouth open and thrusting her tongue inside. There was desperation and longing in the kiss and it went on for a long time.

“I promise, I’ll be here,” Peter whispered when Olivia stopped kissing him and stood under the water looking lost and not very much like the strong and self assured Wrina he served.

Peter picked up the sponge and began to wash his cantala. As he bathed her, she slowly regained her composure and stepped out of the bath. She allowed him to dry her and brush out her long hair and dress her, though usually, she would have chased him away for fussing over her.

He could not accompany her to the stables, she forbid it. He could not accompany her on the trip and she told him she didn’t want their goodbyes said with the rest of the household looking on.

Stroking his cheek, she kissed him tenderly on the lips and then left him there in her rooms to wait for her return.



The End