Craning her head around to look in the bathroom mirror, Janys inspected the damage. Yes, along with scarlet cheeks, several bruises confirmed she'd gotten fifty-one hard swats with the marital paddle the night before. Not that she needed any proof beyond the soreness she felt sitting, even on the soft bed. Reluctantly she stowed the bibalon back into her tunic pocket… Right now she couldn't imagine facing a second session with a new list of offenses, much less the dreaded forbinner coming up in only three days.

One of the wedding pillows graced her chair, but otherwise Martel didn't allude in any way to their first decedonner, especially the final moments when she'd kissed him then pushed him away. Although she responded to his questions, she couldn't bring herself to ask how his back felt, though she suspected it might still hurt even more than her backside.

By silent agreement they covered the distance to his parents' home briskly. For the first time, he parted from her before his mother opened the door.

"Is something wrong?" Elondelle demanded.

"No!" Janys retorted. She could feel both Elondelle and Yagote's eyes raking her as she brushed past them into the living room.

Her mother-in-law's eyes narrowed. "The first decedonner should bring a husband and wife closer together."

As it had, at least for a few moments. But Janys wasn't about to admit that to anyone, especially not Martel's relatives. "Guess what? A lot of things that 'should' happen—don't," she snapped.

"That is true," the older woman acknowledged. "Which means I need to check to see if in fact the first decedonner occurred on schedule."

"Wait a minute!" Janys backed out of reaching distance, her hands automatically protecting her rear end. "It certainly did. Just because it didn't do what you expect doesn't mean—"

"Normally I would not interfere between Martel and his wife, " Elondelle continued. "However, the Council imposed on me the duty to make certain all Wyteen customs are being carried out."

"Why don't you just ask Martel?" Janys argued. "Or let me guess—you wouldn't believe him either."

"Had he stayed for a moment as he usually does, I would have done so," Elondelle pointed out. "But the fact he ran off without speaking this morning suggests he may be upset about something."

"He'll be back tonight." Janys no longer even tried to keep her anger in check. "You can interrogate him then."

Two red circles recalling the morning's mirror inspection appeared on Elondelle's cheeks. "No, Janys, I do not intend to 'interrogate him then'. If there is a problem, we will handle it immediately, even if I have to send Yagote running to catch him."

"We only have one problem, and it's that you can't mind your own business!" Stepping back, she glared at the other women.

Elondelle smiled coolly. "I think you know that kind of attitude will earn you a whipping, Janys. Not to mention twenty swats to lead off the new decedonner… But first I intend to see if my previous recommendations met their mark. Pull down your prander and show me what happened last night."

Janys opened her mouth to tell her to go to hell, then closed it. As infuriating as Elondelle's order might be, Martel could easily side with his mother about the right of inspection. What if he decided her refusal required an instanter like she received for lying to him about studying for her exam? She didn't believe her already ravaged bottom could stand another onslaught today.

With as much dignity as possible, she reached under and pulled down the garment. Hauling the tunic up, she glared at the other two women for a second before turning around. "See? Are you satisfied?"

To her surprise both Elondelle and Yagote merely glanced at her buttocks, their attention riveted by something else. Before she could react, Elondelle leapt across the floor like a panther and grabbed her arm, pulling her around. Janys blushed as she realized her mother-in-law was staring at the dark triangle between her legs.

"Could it be possible?" Elondelle asked Yagote.

"He sleeps down the hall while she locks the bedroom." The girl's eyes narrowed in contempt. "How could they ever lie together?"

"Is that true?" The grip on her arm tightened perceptibly.

Janys blinked. How had they veered from the decedonner to her sleeping arrangements? "Is what true?"

"That after ten days, you and my son have not consummated your marriage?"

"How the hell is that your concern!" she yelled, even as she wondered how the other women could possibly know.

"Your knowledge of our ways is certainly my concern." The green eyes so like Martel's glittered. "If you did not know otherwise, Shalimerie should have told you how to prepare yourself for the marital bed."

Something flickered across her memory. Her friend had asked if she knew how to make herself ready for her wedding night, but Janys assumed Shalimerie had been talking about birth control, which wouldn't be a concern until the implant from the Institute expired. So she'd assured the other woman she didn't require any assistance. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Obviously." Elondelle made no attempt to hide her exasperation with Janys's ignorance. "On Wyteen, married women show themselves open to their husbands by shaving the hair between their legs. Because you have not done so, Martel must believe you do not want him in your bed."

Actually they're a lot more direct ways to tell someone to get out. Such as shoving them in the chest while they kiss you. But somehow Janys didn't think relaying that self-help tip would calm Elondelle down. "I know women who do it," she shrugged. "But it's not for me."

"Unfortunately a Wyteen wife has no choice," Elondelle noted. "We will take care of it now. I will bring you the razor and soap so you can do it yourself, or if you prefer I will do it for you."

Suddenly the barrier crashed and all the rage Janys had been holding over her treatment on the planet came spilling out. No way would she submit herself to this indignity. "Like hell you will! Let's get one thing straight—I'm not shaving myself, and you're not doing it to me!"

The older woman pursed her lips. "I need your cooperation. While the hair can be safely removed, the person must remain still."

"Well, I'm not going to." Janys folded her arms across her breasts. "No matter what you do, I won't help you."

"I see," Elondelle replied evenly. She studied Janys for a few minutes, then nodded. "We will return to this matter at the end of the day."

Surprisingly the time passed almost normally, aside from a greater degree of tension during her lessons. They'd finally reached a point in Demetian history where Janys's Institute research kicked in, so even though she hadn't studied as closely as she might, she did well on her test. No excuse to punish me this time Janys crowed as she answered each question correctly.

The main departure from the norm was the number of times Elondelle and Yagote huddled together outside her earshot. Every once in a while Yagote shook her head slightly as though disagreeing with her adopted mother.

As the first sun started to dip towards the horizon, they finished sweeping the floors. After returning the brooms to the closet, Elondelle looked back at Janys. "Now that you have had some time to reflect, perhaps you will have changed your mind about submitting to the razor."

"Not on your life," Janys proclaimed. "Switch me if you want to, or tell Martel to paddle me some more, but that's never going to happen."

Apparently the woman anticipated the answer, because she didn't hesitate for a moment. "Then I will switch you. In a way you will not like at all."

"Fine," Janys spit out.

Elondelle studied her. "Will you cooperate with me during your whipping, or must I take up the entire matter with Martel?"

Again Janys thought about taking her chances with her husband. But she had to be careful. Martel might understand her feelings about the shaving, but he'd probably agree she'd earned a punishment for rudeness. If she refused to allow Elondelle to discipline her, she'd be risking his giving her another workout on her buns.

"I said you could switch me," she growled. "Go ahead and do it."

Elondelle threw Yagote a look. "This time we will use the spanking chair. Yagote will take you to it and strap you in while I fetch some things."

That sounded ominous. "Why are you going to use a chair?"

"Because it will hold your legs up and apart so I can reach both your outer and inner thighs," her mother-in-law replied.

Not there! Janys wanted to cry as she followed Yagote. She remembered from Martel's touch the night before how tender the skin in that area could be. Plus even though she knew certain areas to be off limits to anyone but a husband, she could well imagine the switch "accidentally" striking her most sensitive parts. Yet after promising she would cooperate, she couldn't see any easy way to postpone her punishment.

Yagote led her down the main corridor to a room she'd never seen before. Her eyes immediately focused on the spanking table, a duplicate of the one she and Martel received as a wedding present. Next to it sat a leather chair that might have passed as a recliner save for its restraints and peculiar metal appendages more reminiscent of a gynecologist's examination room.

"Take off your prander and sit down," Yagote directed.

Biting her lip at having to take orders from the other woman, Janys did as she was instructed. The leather chafed against her sore flesh, and she had a feeling getting up would be a painful proposition. However her vulnerable thighs posed a more immediate focus for her attention as she found her legs being locked into the semi-stirrups so they jutted out ninety degrees in front of her.

While she looked in dismay at her captured limbs, she didn't notice Yagote slipping a strap across her chest until she'd tugged it tight, binding Janys's torso to the furniture. Immediately she jerked her hands off the chair arms, shoving them under her body. "I said I would cooperate! You don't need to tie me down."

"Yes I do," the woman replied as she gave Janys's arm a painful twist. "When Mistress Elondelle makes the switch dance on your inner thighs, you will do anything to try and protect yourself. You need to be completely restrained."

Although Janys hated the thought of being totally immobilized, she admitted she probably would try to interfere. With a sigh, she allowed Yagote to pry up her right hand and buckle it to the chair. As soon as her left hand was tied down, the girl grinned maliciously. But for the leather holding her down, Janys knew she would have slapped her. "I bet you know so much of this from personal experience," she snapped instead.

She could tell the response would fall in the "wouldn't you like to know" category, but the words didn't get out before Elondelle rejoined them and answered the remark herself. "Only one time. The chair has many uses, but this type of punishment usually inspires future obedience. Especially when you find out how difficult walking becomes for several days afterwards."

Handing the switch to Yagote, Elondelle stepped to the front by the bound legs. Reaching in under, she loosened a switch allowing her to stretch Janys's limbs apart while pulling them up at an angle. A click into place and Janys found herself splayed completely open with every inch of her lower body accessible to her mother-in-law.

Without further ceremony, Elondelle picked up the switch and brought it down hard on the top of Janys's right thigh. Thoughts of her previous session on the desk chair floated through her mind, except then the doubled switch had struck both her legs at once. Now the thin wood actually wrapped around the smaller target increasing the pain so Janys yelped from the first blow.

Although Elondelle aimed carefully so as to avoid striking anything but her legs, the next few minutes were some of the worst in Janys's life. Every time the switch descended, printing a new line of fire across the soft skin, Janys lurched upward against the restraints trying frantically to get away. However the straps held her fast as the switch bit over and over until she begged Elondelle to stop.

The whipping continued for a while longer, then Elondelle gave her two final slashes. As Janys tried to get her breathing, her mother-in-law again looked at her calmly. "Are you ready then to proceed with the shaving?"

Janys closed her eyes. Her thighs burned in a thousand places, urging her to protect them from further damage. Yet something in her continued to rage against being "prepped" for a marital bed she didn't intend to share. "No, never!" she asserted, girding herself for the next round.

But nothing happened. When she peeked through her eyelashes, she found Elondelle had left the room. "Let me up," she commanded Yagote.

"Not until the Mistress finishes." Janys expected Yagote to be delighted at the thought, but a pulse of fear seemed to flicker through her tormenter.

Elondelle returned shortly, carrying a wooden bowl covered with a towel. She set it on the spanking table, then adjusted Janys's legs so they were closer together and at less of an angle from the chair seat. "I think you will regret you did not choose the easier way," she commented as she lifted the cloth.

Janys had one second to see the inside of the bowl. "No!" she shrieked as Elondelle held it above her mound and tipped it so the contents flowed all over her curly hairs. The warm wax spread rapidly over the area as Janys watched in horror. At least it wasn't burning, just a little uncomfortable. Yet. But when it came off—

"Please Elondelle," she sobbed. "Please, PLEASE get it off before it cools down."

"That would hardly do the job, would it?" her mother-in-law noted drily. "The blade would have been much less painful, but this requires much less cooperation to achieve a longer lasting result."

Janys could feel the wax hardening against her skin, grabbing each individual hair. Years ago, she'd tried waxing a small area on her right shin that hadn't responded to the depilatory implant. Even though probably no more than ten stubborn follicles had been involved, removing it had been sufficiently painful that she'd paid for electrolysis the next time around.

She'd broken out into a cold sweat by the time Elondelle pressed a finger into the wax and pronounced it ready. "Janys, I am going to take this off all at once, like ripping off a large bandage. I know that may seem harsh to you, but if we go slowly you will suffer more."

"That's okay!" Janys tried to get the words out of her mind as she watched Elondelle reach down and work her hands under the edges of the wax covering. "If you go slowly, I can get used to it. Please don't—"

Elondelle yanked, and Janys screamed at the top of her lungs.

The next few minutes jumbled in her mind. Agony between her legs, as though she'd been shot with thousands of little arrows. A man's pounding footsteps. Martel's voice shouting, "What are you doing to my wife? I could hear her from halfway down the path." Elondelle's murmured explanation as two sets of hands fumbling at her bindings. Then arms picking her up, carrying her out. Laying her on the sofa in the living room. Holding her while she convulsed with sobs.

Somehow the pain started to recede slightly. She opened her eyes to find Martel staring anxiously at her. "Janys? Are you all right?"

"Compared to what?" she gurgled, wishing someone would chop off the lower half of her body.

"I made Yagote bring you winotal. Can you sit up to drink it?" After thinking the matter through, she nodded and let him rearrange her on the couch. When he handed her the generously sized glass, she drank most of it down at once.

"What is going on here?" Zellin's voice boomed through the house.

"From what I can tell, Mother forgot the boundaries of discipline," Martel snapped. Quickly he filled in the details before concluding darkly. "Apparently Yagote assisted her."

"Is this true?" Zellin looked from his wife to his charge, then back again.

"I was not administering correction," Elondelle retorted. "The council requires me to teach Janys compliance with our customs. She refused to follow the simple way, so to avoid accidentally cutting her, I used an alternate."

"An alternate resulting in far greater punishment of a private area than any husband would inflict!" Martel glared at his mother.

Elondelle set her lips tightly together. "It was not punishment."

"I see," Zellin replied noncommittally. "And the switch marks on her thighs?"

"That is punishment for failing to submit to the procedure." Thank God she didn't mention the things Janys had said.

Zellin turned his gaze back to Yagote. "What were you doing during all of this?"

"Everything Mistress Elondelle told me," she replied, dropping her eyes.

He shook his head. "Did you think she had a right to do these things to your sister-in-law in the name of discipline?"

Janys saw the girl scowl slightly at the term "sister-in-law", but she recovered quickly. "I agreed something needed to be done."

Zellin stroked his chin. "So, Yagote, you never told my wife she could be wrong."

"Oh yes I did!" she contended. "But she told me not to worry about it."

"Now I think I understand," the older man declared. "Elondelle decided on a punishment she had no right to give. You knew better, but helped her any way."

"What should I have done?" the girl complained. "If I had refused, she would have ordered me into the chair."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps she would have rethought her intentions, or simply been unable to carry them out without your assistance. But even if she had switched your thighs, that would still have been better than violating our rules. I hope we did not teach you to sacrifice another person to save your own skin," Zellin added sternly.

"No, sir," Yagote muttered.

"And neither of you thought to ask Martel what his wishes might be regarding an intimate matter between husband and wife."

"I knew he would want to follow the Wyteen way," Elondelle insisted.

Martel shook his head. "I have no preference, but if I did, I would work it out with Janys without your involvement."

"But Martel!" Elondelle protested. "You have to follow the practice! It promotes honesty, openness—"

"We have been over this before, Elondelle," Zellin broke in tiredly. "Just because something exists in the 'rules' does not mean every couple follows it to the letter. Martel and Janys can decide what promotes honesty between them. You should have respected him as both a man and your son to make his own decision."

Janys huddled against her husband. While she enjoyed hearing Elondelle and Yagote get dressed down, she wanted him to take her home, especially as Elondelle began, "But Janys said to me—"

Martel cut her off. "I am sorry, Mother. But I have no choice but to ask Father to correct you for wrongfully punishing my wife."

"I still do not believe what I did constituted punishment," she insisted.

Zellin's face darkened. "I know how this can be resolved. Is there any wax left?"

After a long pause, Elondelle admitted, "We have another large candle."

"Then go and melt it down." For a second Elondelle looked afraid. "Yes, my dear. If what you did was not punishment, then you should not object to my seeing if it works better than your usual routine. Or if as I believe, you punished Janys unjustly, I hope she agrees a waxing would be suitable as one part of your limiton."

Elondelle's face went completely white, but she turned and left without saying anything more. Zellin focused his attention on Yagote. "You may have the guiltier conscience because you recognized you did wrong, but you were not the driving force. Unless you would prefer the wax, fetch the rod so I can give you a thrashing before attending to my wife."

They watched Yagote scamper off. "Do you wish to stay and watch the limiton being carried out?" Zellin asked Janys.

She shook her head… "I just want to go home."

"Then you shall." He leaned over the couch and clasped her hand. "I apologize for what happened here today. Be certain it will be fully addressed so it will never happen again."

"Thank you." As she got up, Yagote reappeared by the door leading to Zellin's study, a long polished stick in her hand. Zellin met her there, putting a hand on her shoulder as they moved inside shutting the door firmly. A few seconds later, Janys heard a swish and a low cry.

Martel nodded towards the study. "I expect my mother will get the same after the waxing is completed. Under the circumstances, we will now consider your lessons here concluded."

"Thank God," she whispered. The tunic scraping against her bare skin reminded her she'd left her prander draped over the spanking bench. In a low voice she told Martel her problem, and he immediately brought it to her. Wincing, she pulled it on not knowing which hurt worse—her behind, her thighs, or her bikini area.

Slowly they made their way back to the cottage. He offered to carry her, but she declined, although she leaned heavily on him most of the way. Once there, he helped her lie down on the bed, then sat beside her stroking her forehead and hair.

"Shalimerie may have something to make you feel better. If you rest now, I will go over to their place and see."

"That would be good." No matter what other things Shalimerie might have, Janys intended to slip a few drops of the sleeping potion into her drink tonight.

"I will hurry back." He kissed her cheek, then left her to her thoughts. If only she could shove aside the bad memories in favor of the few good ones. The way Martel took up for her against his mother and foster sister. For once, they'd been in the wrong, and he hadn't hesitated to tell them so or demand justice on her behalf. If he'd just gotten home a few minutes sooner, she knew he would have rescued her. Curling her aching body under the quilt, she wished she hadn't let him go on the errand when she so wanted him simply to stay with her.

Somehow she dozed, awaking to find him again by her side sniffing the contents of a small blue jar. "Shalimerie promised this would reduce the redness and soreness. May—may I help you put it on?"

Janys looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. Very gently he removed the quilt and folded up her tunic, then eased the prander slowly until it was off entirely. His fingers dipped into the jar, then gently began spreading the creamy substance between her legs, working it into each crease and down her striped thighs.

God, it felt good! Not just the coolness or the way the pain started dissipating after a few seconds, but the stroke of his hands. She could tell how hard Martel worked to keep his touch light so as not to cause her further agony. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to his soft massage, her legs parting to welcome him.

She opened them to find him sadly gazing down at her. "Janys," he breathed. "I am so sorry. For all the things today that never should have happened. My mother thought it would help me, because she knows how much I want our marriage to succeed. But to do this—"

"It's not your fault," she whispered.

"I love you," he said simply. "But I understand how you can never love me when being my wife brings you nothing but pain."

"Not all of it is pain," she replied looking up at his troubled face. The face of the man who had given up his future to save her life. The man who fought for her again today the same way he'd done at her trial. The man she wanted.

Reaching over, she caught his hand and placed it on her right breast. The nipple stiffened under her tunic as he gently squeezed her, smiling uncertainly. Slowly she edged towards the opposite side of the bed giving him room to lie down while still holding him to her. She could tell immediately from the hardness against her leg how much he desired her. Her hand fumbled with his tunic, seeking first the smoothness of his taut stomach. then the curve of his hip as she pulled him to her. Fortunately Demetian clothing came off more quickly than her Institute uniform.

Although she wanted to wrap her arms around him and hug him to her, she could still feel the marks left by the Men's Gathering. Instead she clasped him around the neck, her tongue burying itself in the warmth of his mouth. Then she felt his cock seeking between her legs. She reached down and took it firmly, her thumb lightly rubbing the shaft before she guided him in.

Yes, the entry hurt slightly as it always did, plus the friction on her denuded skin stung, but she didn't notice it as the waves of pleasure continued building. For the first time she felt as though every cell in her body had come alive. Just as she felt she would die from the sensations, a thrust carried her over. Seconds later Martel cried out as he came inside her.

Sleepy and spent, Janys laid her head on his chest. Her last thought before drifting off was that he smelled good even without the tunic.

Shortly after midnight Martel stirred. "We missed dinner," he remarked. "Let me get something to keep us until morning."

Although he urged her to stay under the quilt, she padded along with him down to the kitchen. Whenever she'd made love with the Professor, one of them had always left as soon as they were done so they wouldn't be discovered by early-rising students. Afterwards she'd always felt empty. Now she basked in the joy of keeping Martel in her sight, prolonging their closeness.

They ate fruit and the last of Shalimerie's bread, washing it down with corittan. Janys remembered her earlier intention to dose herself with drops. But that was when she'd intended sleeping alone. Now as they sat at their table in their sleep tunics, which they'd slipped on to protect them from drafts, she wanted nothing more than to be fully awake and in bed with him.

Martel must have caught her thoughts, because he grinned at her as they made their way back upstairs. "Did I behave well enough to spend the night, or do I have to go back sleeping down the hall?"

"You can stay," she smiled back. "But only if you continue to behave that way a second time around."

"I will try my best," he promised as he pulled down the sleep tunic and kissed the tops of her breasts.

They went slowly, with less urgency than before but greater communication. For the first time she could remember, Janys felt completely satisfied as she spooned with her husband, his hands circling her waist.

Who would have known that someone who warmed her backside so well could also keep her feet that toasty?