The elaborate weave of rope and rings kept the princess immobilized, bent over the side of the bed. Her hands were high over her head, bound together skillfully at the wrist: tight enough to keep her from moving, but not so tight that it restricted blood flow. She was comfortable…for now.

Other than the raw feeling between her legs where the rope had been for an hour before he'd partially unwrapped it to fuck her. She was still dripping with both of their fluids, and it made her shift her legs, her slick thighs rubbing together. They couldn't move far, because she was bound at the ankles, too.

"Stop moving." His voice was quietly commanding, as if the idea she might disobey had never occurred to him. She was his, after all; there to serve him. "What's the matter? Too wet?"

"Yes, Prince Zuko."

He leaned over her back, his long hair trailing over her bare skin. "I agree," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. "I don't like you losing so much of my seed, and you'll have to be punished for it before I fill you up again."

She shivered at the harshness of the promise. Craved it. "I understand."

"You understand…?"

Of course. "I understand, your highness."

"I don't like being disrespected." She heard a rustling sound, like silk being pulled over something smooth, and then she felt the cool weight of a multi-tailed flogger against her ass. "Do you feel this?"

"Yes, Prince Zuko."

(She remembered from the book that they were mild and good for beginners. Did he have to tell someone to fill the cabinet with whips and paddles before they left? Did his steward, that soft-spoken old man, have to order them? She couldn't really imagine Zuko being able to request all these things without getting massively embarrassed.)

The contact he made was hardly a strike at all, just a haphazard, painless slide of the many leather tails against her skin. "Get a feel for how long it is. How heavy. How flexible." He drew it gently up between her legs, making her twitch as the friction dragged on her sensitive labia. "Aching for me to fuck you again?" he murmured.

"Yes, Prince Zuko," she whispered, strained.

"You'll get it, once you've been punished." He spun it in his hand, gentle slaps hitting the backs of her thighs in succession.

(She knew he was starting light to gauge her reaction, but what did he expect, that she'd have delicate baby skin? She was Toph fucking Beifong.)

"First, you'll get three hard strikes for forgetting what to call me. What do you think of that?"

She could have been obedient, but some instinct told her not to be. Not this time. Her voice was deceptively demure and low. "Will they really be hard, or is that another empty Fire Nation threat?"

"Why don't you tell me?" he hissed. The first one came down hard enough to sting for maybe half a second, if that.

"That was nothing," she hissed back, "your highness."

"Stubborn brat." It made a satisfying smack the second time it hit, but it was still mild.

"I thought you were supposed to be strong."

"You're going to pay for saying that," he snarled, abandoning the flogger altogether. She heard it hit the ground as he tossed it aside. "You're going to learn your place." Without warning, his hand came down on her, and she ground her teeth to keep from crying out. The stinging imprint remained. His other hand delicately cupped her throat, gentle but threatening, as he spanked her again, harder. "What about that?"

She expelled the breath she'd been holding in one surprised sigh.

"You've forgotten my title twice more," he murmured, stroking her neck with his thumb. "That means you've got seven more strikes…if you don't err again." The next slap was a little harder, and when he rubbed the spot he'd struck afterwards, the tingling seemed to spread. On the fourth, she finally whimpered.

"Do you still think I'm weak?" he whispered, leaning over so that his lips brushed her ear and his hair trailed along her bare skin again.

Two branching paths lie before her: submission and rebellion. (If this was an arranged marriage, and my parents sold me to the completely unreformed prince of the Fire Nation?) There was only one path she could take. "Everyone does! Isn't that why your father banished you?"

"Tu Zin."

"Zuko, you can't safeword. You're supposed to be hurting me."

"Well, I'm doing it." He leaned over her, pulling on one of the loose ends of rope lying over the edge and releasing both her wrists all at once. What a useful kind of knot. The man knew how to follow directions out of a book, she'd give him that.

"You said we were in character," she pointed out. "To say whatever I wanted to get you angry."

He sighed as he released her ankles. "I know, but…"

"You know I didn't mean it." She turned around to sit on the bed, rubbing the marks out of her wrists and ankles.

"Yeah, I do." She heard him putting away everything they'd used, closing drawers and opening the wardrobe. The rustle of fabric; he was throwing some of his clothes over the end of the bed, putting them on one at a time. "I'm just not in the mood anymore."

"Come on, don't be like this." She reached out in his direction, but only brushed her fingertips against his sleeve before he pulled away.

"I'll be back in a while."

She didn't stop him from leaving. When she curled up under the covers, she felt empty inside.