Lady Mielikki's Amulet, Ch. 01

Hey all - This is my first story! It's FANTASY, and it takes place in a fantasy world. I don't actually harbor any beliefs about alpha/beta/cuckold stuff in real life beyond just thinking it's fetish stuff. All characters here are of course adults over 18 years old. This story leans heavy on cuckoldry/humiliation/CFNM (and some foot fetish and whipping stuff) so if that's not your thing just be warned. (It's fantasy but my hope is that it's still filthy fucking hot fantasy). My only concern is it starts off too slow. Let me know how I did!

***

Lady Mielikki got home late. Tofi heard them -- Lady Mielikki and her Man -- enter the house a little after midnight, through the front door below the bedroom. He sat up in the bed and blinked. He hadn't meant to drift off, and Lady Mielikki would have wanted him ready to greet them downstairs, naked and kneeling like she'd always specified.

He hurried to the house's narrow wooden stairway and padded down the steps as quietly as he could. No sense disturbing Lady Mielikki and her Man now.

About hallway down he froze for a moment. He could hear Lady Mielikki's voice -- bright and carefree; her bell-like laugh amplified a bit by the alcohol they must have had at the feast -- and he could pick out the voice of Ullr, her Man (he'd never be able to unhear the things he'd heard Ullr say to his Lady, the sounds he'd made as he fucked her into another dimension so many nights since she had chosen Tofi as her husband). But there was another voice too -- maybe more than one. Both of them Women and...

...and another Man's voice too.

Tofi swallowed, palms slick on the wattle and daub wall of the stairway.

Lady Mielikki would have wanted him in the house's hall naked and kneeling when she returned from the feast with her Man. That much was certain. And Tofi knew he'd deserve the whip -- and not in a pleasurable way -- for falling asleep instead.

But she'd never had him naked in front of guests other than Ullr, her Man. Tofi swallowed. They'd laugh. He knew they'd laugh.

A cuckold husband's first duty is to his Lady, to suffer all pain and humiliation and humbling she sees fit to provide him, and to be thankful for the same...

He knew those words by heart. Every male in Hela City -- really, across all of Atalantahna -- determined by nature to be a cuckold husband knew those words. They'd had it drilled into all of them.

Tofi pursed his lips. Maybe he could cover up somehow. It wasn't as if there was much to cover up between his legs anyway. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Heartbeat in his throat, he stepped from the bottom landing into the house's entry hall.

It was worse than he thought.

Lady Mielikki stood in the center of the group, head cocked to one side, looking up at Ullr, who was speaking now. She had her hands on her hips, the lose leather belt at an angle, the hem of her forest-green dress pulled up even higher than it had been, up to the middle of one flawless tan thigh. Tofi swallowed hard as his gaze followed the line of the toned muscles in her thigh and calf and down to (no, don't even start) her perfect feet. God, she was barefoot now, her strappy leather sandals near the door. Lady Mielikki was maybe the best huntress in Hela City; she'd won another championship this feast season. Her body betrayed the hours she spent training and the small, tight dress she'd chosen for the feast hid none of those curves, none of the ways her body rippled beneath the fabric. Tofi hadn't been allowed to touch much of that gorgeous body in a long time. Ullr had though, and Tofi knew it. The thought of Ullr's massive, rough hands all over the slender corded muscle of Lady Mielikki's huntress body was bad enough, but Ullr never stopped there. Oh no. The real punch in the gut came from the way Lady Mielikki -- and everyone else in the room -- was looking at Ullr now, the awed smiles they had on their faces.

Ullr was funny. Ullr was smart. Ullr had ridden into battle with Queen Feronia last year and no one -- except maybe Tofi -- had gotten sick of hearing about it.

Ullr was a Man. Everything Tofi was not. Even as he watched, Ullr made some joke and Lady Mielikki dipped her head and laughed that perfect laugh again, tossed her golden hair over one shoulder.

Then she saw finally noticed him, her green eyes taking in his naked body in a split second.

"Hi Tofi," she said, her smile only widening as the laughter in the room died down. "Disobeying orders again, I see. We were wondering where you were."

We.

It was only then that Tofi registered who else stood in the entry hall along with them.

Duchess Cybele stood next to Lady Mielikki, one hand raised to her lips in a vain attempt to cover the smile spreading across her lips as she took in Tofi's naked body, the collar around his neck. Again, Tofi felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut.

It had to be Duchess Cybele, didn't it? They'd been friends. He'd always kind of had a crush on her, and she'd always felt sorry for him, once he'd found out it had been determined he was a cuckold. She'd been at the wedding, but he hadn't talked to her much since he'd become Lady Mielikki's husband.

Now, as he watched, Thormud slid a hand from the small of her back to one warm curve of her hip, clad beneath a shimmering red skirt.

Thormud.

Tofi had been friends with Thormud once, but that, of course, had changed once it had been determined Thormud was a Man, and Tofi a cuckold.

"Oh...Mielikki," Duchess Cybele said, lowering her hand now and offering a perfect view of the shy smile crossing those perfect lips now. "I don't think...you didn't say..."

"That my dear cuckold husband has a tiny dick and a useless, pathetic body?" Lady Mielikki asked as Ullr gave her an audible smack on the ass and pulled her closer to him. She moaned in pleasure, and spun, stood on her toes -- offering Tofi a perfect, gut-wrenching view of that same perfect, toned ass -- and kissed her Man on the lips.

"Yeah," she said, turning back around and falling against Ullr's chest. "Sorry Cybele, I should have warned you -- I know you two were friends. Just between all the dancing and the mead and everything --"

"No it's, I mean...." Tofi felt Duchess Cybele's eyes move across his naked body, and now she just laughed. "I knew he was a cuckold, it's just...funny."

"He's earned himself a spanking, by the way," Lady Mielikki said, a slow smile playing across her own lips now and a sadistic gleam alight in her green eyes. "With the whip. He was supposed to be kneeling naked in the entryway when we came home from the feast."

She locked eyes with Tofi.

"Wasn't he?" She asked.

"Yes Lady Mielikki," Tofi said, eyes on the floorboards between them. Not on the gorgeous temptation of her bare feet. Not on her body. And certainly not anywhere near Duchess Cybele's direction.

He felt his face grow hot.

Now Duchess Cybele actually laughed.

"Oh Mielikki, come on," Duchess Cybele said. "You're going to spank him? With the whip? Just for that?"

"Trust me," Lady Mielikki said, disentangling herself from Ullr's embrace. "If you do decide to marry one day, Cybele, you'll understand."

She snapped her fingers and Tofi looked up before he'd even registered he needed to. She'd trained him that well, at least.

"Wine, Tofi," she said. "And my whip, too."

Duchess Cybele burst out laughing; so did Ullr. Thormud -- maybe because he'd once been a friend -- stopped short at just a grin.

Tofi swallowed hard.

"Yes Lady Mielikki," he said, and turned, headed back into the house's small kitchen. He retrieved the bottle of wine -- three quarters full -- from a cupboard and four goblets on a shelf below.

Then he turned his attention to the whip.

Lady Mielikki could only be described as a connoisseur of whips. She owned more than a dozen. He didn't know which one she'd wanted him to bring her, and maybe that was by design. Maybe it was an excuse to give him a few more lashes, just for the sake of entertaining the guests.

He settled on the one she kept in the kitchen, a smaller thing with a worn, wooden handle and an intertwined body with forking tails at the end.

He knew that whip well.

He wrapped it around one hand and took up the bottle and goblets with the other, then headed out of the kitchen into the house's small dining room.

What he heard on the way froze his blood.

"You're really considering nullification?" Duchess Cybele asked as Tofi stepped into the room.

"I've already decided," Lady Mielikki said, perched on Ullr's lap now, her delicious bare feet -- dusty from the road outside -- swinging as she made spun in Tofi's direction to take the goblet of wine he handed her.

"Mielikki..." Duchess Cybele said, the smile on her face now equal parts amusement and disbelief. She didn't so much as look up when Tofi approached; Thormud accepted the wine for both of them. "Nullification...that means he'd never have an orgasm again."

"As the Queen Under the Mountain intended," Mielikki said, and raised the goblet to her lips. "He'll live in a constant state of sexual frustration and also a burning desire to please me in any way I see fit, one that will build over time and one from which he'll never find relief. We built Atalantahna on the nullification of cuckold males, Cybele. The country still runs on it."

"I...that's a conservative reading of the texts, I guess," Cybele said, and sipped the wine. "Which I guess I should expect from you."

"Atalantahn women are starting to choose nullification for their husbands at higher rates again," Lady Mielikki said. "It's coming back into vogue. The Witch --"

She spun on Ullr's lap, turned to Tofi, then snapped her fingers again and pointed at the ground. Tofi knelt and even now -- even hearing that Lady Mielikki was going to subject him to the Ritual of Nullification -- all he could think about was licking those dirty, dusty soles of hers until they were clean. Between her toes. Along her heel.

The anklet she wore winked at him in the candlelight, teasing. Lady Mielikki only dabbled in sorcery, but she'd cast an ongoing spell of compulsion on him, one that had him hypnotized by her anklet.

Never mind the fact that she was only doing this absently now, caught up in the conversation and the drink. He knelt in front her and Ullr, whip in hand.

"Like I was saying," Lady Mielikki said, once satisfied Tofi had knelt. "The Witch told me she's booked solid for Nullifcation Rituals this coming full moon."

Duchess Cybele put her goblet on the table, shook her head, and laughed again.

"He won't have a penis," she said.

"Just like the Queen Under the Mountain intended for cuckold males," Lady Mielikki said. "I don't think I would have been this conservative before I was a scholar, Cybele. Or before I chose a cuckold husband. But like...you saw him tonight..."

She paused, turned to Tofi again, and hopped off of Ullr's lap.

"Which reminds me," she said, as she bent to take the whip out of his hands.

Even just her scent could make Tofi weak at this point. There was the rose water she'd worn earlier in the night for the feast, and the teasing aroma of mead and wine on her breath, but then below that the deeper scent of her sweat, a product of a night of drinking and dancing and celebrating Atalantahna's founding as a gynarchy.

Tofi wanted her. Wanted all of her. He could feel it deep in his gut, a marrow-deep ache, a throb in his testicles.

And now -- if she was telling Duchess Cybele the truth -- she'd made up her mind about the Nullification Ritual. She'd have his penis removed, and he'd go slowly insane from sexual frustration and the hopeless desire to serve her every whim.

A Woman's right in Atalantahna, of course. The practice had gotten less popular in recent years -- some Atalantahnan women had opted for a more egalitarian marriage even though they kept Men on the side -- but it still wasn't exactly unusual for wives to choose Nullification for their cuckold husbands. It was still legal. And there were still Witches throughout Hela City -- and across Atalantahna -- who made a good living performing the ritual every full moon.

She just hadn't told Tofi she'd made up her mind, despite his begging.

She snapped her fingers at him, pointed to the center of the room. Tofi made his way there, on his knees, eyes down.

"Bend over," she said, uncoiling the whip.

Tofi swallowed hard and bent over, putting his face against the house's rough floorboards.

"Turn your ass toward Duchess Cybele," Lady Mielikki said. "And get that ass in the air."

Duchess Cybele stifled a giggle. Tofi did as he was told, his face burning.

"Look up, into the mirror, and into her eyes," lady Mielikki said.

Tofi's stomach dropped. There really had been a time -- once, maybe not even long ago -- when Duchess Cybele would have thought of him as an equal.

As he made eye contact with her in the mirror, though -- a spoil of a campaign Lady Mielikki helped fight against a colony of rebellious cuckold males in the Manacle Mountains -- he could tell she harbored no such thoughts anymore. Nor was she trying to hide her amusement anymore, shot through with pity every now and then. She had her legs crossed at the knee, one boot clad foot kicking back and forth absently, Thormud's hand around her waist. Her eyes glittered with a smile as she raised her goblet to her lips.

Lady Mielikki put one bare foot on the side of Tofi's head, pinning him to the floor with his ass in the air, pointed in Duchess Cybele's direction. In the mirror Tofi could see the teasing curve of her high thigh disappearing beneath the hem of her skirt, hiked up as she arched her knee to plant her foot on his face. She held the whip by the handle, twirled it in long, lazy loops, and already Tofi could hear the familiar whoosh it made as it sliced the air.

"Reach back and spread your cheeks," Lady Mielikki said.

"Lady Mielikki I --" Tofi said, before he could stop himself.

"Excuse me, cuck?" She said, and ground her heel into his cheek as Duchess Cybele burst out laughing behind them. "Did you just talk back to me?"

"I --"

But it didn't matter; she brought the whip down in three very hard, very practiced strokes across his ass, and ground her foot deeper into his face to keep him from moving. Tofi couldn't help it; he yelped. Lady Mielikki didn't usually give him the chance to warm up to her whip when she wanted to punish him, but even still she rarely hit him this hard from the get-go. In the mirror, Duchess Cybele and Thormud kept laughing.

"Spread your cheeks, bitch," she told him. "Give them a view to go with the drinks you served."

Them.

Thormud and Duchess Cyebele, of course. Both former friends of his. Both people he had once considered himself equal to.

He reached back and spread his ass cheeks. Duchess Cybele threw her head back against Thormud's shoulder and cackled.

"Goddess, Mielikki, I had no idea he was such a --"

But Lady Mielikki cut her off with another three sharp snaps of the whip.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

Tofi screamed. One of the whip's cruel frayed tails had found the sensitive skin of his asshole and he felt the sting throughout his whole body.

"Apologize to Duchess Cybele and her Man for your behavior," Lady Mielikki yelled at him.

"I'm sorry," Tofi said.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

"Is that any way to address an Atalantahnan woman, cuck?" Lady Mielikki asked.

"I'm sorry, Duchess Cyebele," Tofi said, gasping for air.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

"I don't think you answered my question, bitch," Lady Mielikki said. "I asked you a direct question and you --"

CRACK

"- saw fit to --"

CRACK

"- ignore my authority?"

CRACK

"I'm sorry for disrespecting you Lady Mielikki," he said, rushed. "And I'm sorry for not greeting you properly, Duchess Cybele and Thormud and Ullr."

Tofi took a deep breath and winced hard. Behind him, Thormud was laughing now -- full belly laughs -- and so was Ullr, somewhere else in the room. Duchess Cybele, he could see in the mirror, had a strand of deep scarlet hair curled around one finger, her face still lit up by a wide grin.

At his expense, Tofi thought.

He lowered his gaze from the mirror, ass on fire. Just then, though, he would've taken more strokes if it meant he could stop looking at Duchess Cybele in the mirror.

Surely Lady Mielikki couldn't ask for more than this.

Surely.

Lady Mielikki shifted her weight, put one hand on her hip. She twirled the whip with the other.

"What do you think, Cybele?" She asked. "Are you satisfied with my little cuckold husband's apology?"

Duchess Cybele laughed.

"Have a go with the whip yourself," Lady Mielikki said, and held it out to her friend. "You're going to need the practice if you ever do decide to take a cuckold."

She paused, and ground her heel into Tofi's face hard enough to make him yelp.

"Especially since all they seem to do is rebel against a good Atalantahnan woman's righteous rule of her household."

"All right, Mielikki, you talked me into it," Duchess Cybele said, then took a long swallow from her goblet, set it on the table nearby, and took the whip from Lady Mielikki's hand.

Tofi watched her in the mirror. Hopelessness spread in the pit of his stomach like a dark flower blooming.

Duchess Cybele swung the whip through the air and giggled at the sound it made. She draped the whip across Tofi's welted, burning buttocks and he winced. Even that minor touch stung.

"I feel bad," Duchess Cybele said to Lady Mielikki, watching Tofi wince. "I used to be friends with him, before we found out it was determined he was to be a cuckold."

"It's not for us to decide," Lady Mielikki said, arms crossed over her chest. "It's what the Queen Under the Mountain would have wanted."

"Goddess, Mielikki," Duchess Cybele said, running the whip across Tofi's ass again. "You really are such a conservative scholar these days."

"Cuckolds should know their place, Men should know theirs, and Atalantahnan women should know theirs," Lady Mielikki said, and, in the mirror, Tofi watched her swirl the wine in her goblet. "Speaking of which -- sorry, Cybele, but please hand me the whip --"

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

Tofi howled loud enough to, he was pretty sure, rattle the leaded glass window panes.

"Did I tell you that you were allowed to stop spreading your cheeks, bitch?" Lady Mielikki asked.

"No Lady Mielikki," Tofi answered, and reached back to spread his ass cheeks.

"Good boy," Lady Mielikki said, and kicked him in the face. "You see, Cybele? You have to be firm. And even when you are, they need the whip. So you need all the practice you can get."

Duchess Cybele giggled again, then raised her arm, whip in hand.

"Wait," Lady Mielikki told her, and pointed to Tofi's cheek with the big toe of her right foot.

Now Duchess Cybele did laugh. Then she planted the sole of her left boot onto Tofi's cheek. He winced as she ground the dirt from the streets of Hela City into his face.

He forgot about it soon enough, though, as Duchess Cybele brought the whip raining down on his ass in the next split second.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

As cruel and as strict as Lady Mielikki was, she had a practiced rhythm when it came to whipping or spanking. Even when she hit him hard. She was never this rapid-fire. She liked to let the mental anguish -- the anticipation, the dread -- build.

Tofi didn't know if Duchess Cybele had ever whipped a male before -- and given her gentler views, he was willing to bet she hadn't -- but she had no sense of style or rhythm. She whipped him hard with no breaks.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

She stepped back, took her boot off his face, and burst out laughing.

"It's so much fun," she said, as Tofi scrunched his watering eyes shut and breathed deep. He'd had painful sessions before -- really painful sessions -- especially when Lady Mielikki first took him as her cuckold and he had to learn to obey her. But this was worse.