During the two weeks since they had purchased the notebook in Soda Springs, she swore that Angus searched for opportunities to spank her in the future, telling her to write down menial or contrived wrong doings and what the resultant punishment would be.
Instead of doing as she was told, she had drawn pictures of ponies, parasols, sun and trees, rainbows, and many other things—these were so much better than a list of sins. Too bad Angus hadn’t felt the same.
“Go get your punishment book, bad girl. I think I’ve changed my mind about how many swats you’re getting for what you did tonight. I wanna change it.” While sitting on the log near the campfire, he waved toward the wagon where the log was kept.
Clara didn’t relish the idea of bringing him the log; he’ wasn’t supposed to see it—well at least not for a long time—like after the baby was born. “I can change it for you.”
His eyes had narrowed. Tilting his head, he observed her quietly—not a good sign. “Get the log, girl.”
Shit!
Handing him the black leather bound book, she stepped back a couple of steps. It couldn’t hurt to have some space between the two of them. She watched him untie the thin leather straps holding it together.
The first page had a cute little kitten that she’d shadowed, making him look like the gray kitten she had owned as a child. He winked at her, not upset in the least.
However, the grin on his face faded when he turned to the next page and the next and the next. His lips thinned, his eyebrows furrowing before he slammed the book shut, tossing it to the ground and rising quickly from the log. She backed up even further, her hands covering her bottom through her thick skirts. An angry Angus was nothing to fool around with; better to give him some space.
Angus appeared to be so upset; he didn’t know whether to check his ass or scratch his watch. She had watched him go over to the girls, telling them along with Sam that they could swim in the creek near the camp. He told Sam to give him about a half hour before they even started their way back—which meant they’d have about an hour to themselves.
Clara looked around the site; with everyone finding their homes, there were very few people left—so wagons were spread further apart to give them some privacy.
Dammit!
She wasn’t even sure Sam and the girls were out of earshot when he came over to her, standing toe-to-toe, his voice raised. “So how about you tell me what in tarnation you thought you were doing with your punishment log.”
“I… well I didn’t care for having to write my sins down, so I… I thought… I just decided to draw pictures instead, thinking you wouldn’t know until the baby was born and by then you’d be so happy with the baby you wouldn’t care about spanking me.” She wrung her hands in front of her, the reasoning she used sounding lame even to her ears.
“I believe I’d call that manipulation and deception. Is that what you’d call it if the girls did that?” She hated the stern, all-knowing—and almost always right—man glaring down at her, his nostrils flared.
“Yes, Sir. And if I were to be honest, I’d probably call it rebellion too.”
He raised his eyebrows high. “Oh, so you’re deciding that you want to be honest now?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m usually honest, Angus. You know that.” She kept any attitude out of her voice but had to defend herself. She was a good woman; she rarely misbehaved… well, only sometimes misbehaved.
“Yes. Usually, you are an honest lady; it was wrong of me to say you aren’t. But a naughty, manipulative little girl who needs her tail tanned is what you are right now, aren’t you?”
“Right now?” She looked around again. She couldn’t believe that he’d actually spank her in broad daylight.
“Yes. I don’t see any need to delay it. You went out of your way to ask for a spanking and I’m not one to ignore when something that is this blatantly asked for.” He sat down on the log again. “Come along.”
“But… Angus… it’s… it’s so loud and people may see.” Her hands had covered her bottom, and she was still out of his reach.
“Clara, no one can see from where we’re sitting, and if they hear anything, it won’t be the first spanking given on this journey, and you know it. I believe you’ve had at least one, if not two, that were witnessed on this trail.” The tip of his index finger bounced on his thigh. “Come, Clara.”
She shook her head while she bit her lip, her eyes large and round.
“If you make me get up to snatch you, I’ll whip your little ass with my belt. Now, don’t make this worse than it has to be.”
She didn’t want the belt the sting from it lasted for days. But she hadn’t thought he’d spank her for drawing pictures. Maybe if she tried to reason with him, tugging on his rational side.
“Angus, you always like my pictures. You even asked me to draw some for you to carry in your wallet. How was I to know that you’d be so angry about my pretty pictures in a book you bought me?” She’d purposefully widened her eyes, keeping her voice soft, tinged with a little fear—a plea for mercy and forgiveness.
“Clara.” He dropped his voice low, dragging her name out. “Don’t butter my butt and call me a biscuit. If you don’t get your ass over her in three seconds, we’re tanglin’. One...”
She high-tailed it to his side. “I’m sorry, Angus.”
“I’m sure you are, baby. Pull your dress up to your waist.” He pointed to her belly.
She knew that he wouldn’t listen to anything else. Once they were this far into the punishment, any excuses or begging angered him further. She gathered the material up as directed, standing with her pantaloons for the world to see.
His large finger brushed along her belly, gathering the narrow ribbons, untying them, letting her drawers flutter to her shoes. “How does it feel to stand here bare from the waist down waiting for your spanking?”
“I feel silly and foolish.” Against her wishes, her eyes filled with tears, slowly tracking down her cheeks.
Angus nodded solemnly. “It was pretty foolish to think manipulation and deceit would protect your bottom, and I’m sure you were grinning like a possum with a sweet tater thinking you had me fooled. But you won’t be grinning soon, will you?”
“No, Sir.”
Angus smiled up at her. “I do love how you submit and start calling me Sir in a punishment. It makes my chest puff out a little.”
The bulge in his pants grew, and she could clearly see the outline of his cock through the thick denim. Her clit began to throb at the prospect, and she had no doubt that her pussy was wet; she only hoped that he wouldn’t touch it. The humiliation of her body reacting to a spanking.
“I can smell you over here; your body loves a spanking, girl.”
She closed her eyes.
God, can it get any more disgraceful?
“I won’t stick my finger into your sex—we’ll save that for later. Right now, I’m turning this ass beet red. Lay yourself over my lap.”
Groaning loudly, Clara leaned forward; thankfully, Angus helped her ease onto the hard planes of his thighs, the hard muscles pressing into her soft belly.
He tilted her forward raising his leg so her bottom was obscenely raised, a cool breeze brushing over her anus. He spread his thighs far apart to accommodate her belly; her tender breasts dangled just over his left thigh and her bottom positioned over his other. Her mound pressed on the hard muscles, and she shifted her hips, her sex aching with need, grinding her clit against him hoping it would make her spend.
“Part of your punishment will be having the need for an orgasm and having to wait. But I will sit here for a bit, staring at those pink lips covered with that wet curly hair, imagining myself slipping inside, lapping your honey before sucking on your clit.” While he talked, his hand glided over her sex, lightly brushing over the sensitive areas but not pressing hard or delving into her channel to ease her desire.
Mewling, she shifted once again, her labia brushing over her clit; the rubbing helped, but the
yearning climbed regardless.
“Hold still. You will not have a release, not until much later tonight and after your spanking.” He pulled on her right thigh, spreading her legs. “You will keep these legs spread; turn your toes in and don’t move.”
Obediently she turned her feet in with her legs spread, the cool breeze wafting over her wet pussy.
“How does it feel to have your little bare bottom up in the air for a spanking and exposed for all to view?” He skimmed his finger down the seam of her buttocks, lightly brushing the surface of her anus and sex but not satisfying or plunging it at all.
Clara resisted pushing back on his hand knowing that she would be met with a swift, hard swat. She’d forgotten how she craved sex with each pregnancy, swearing some days she could rub herself to completion on a wagon wheel if society accepted it.
Pity, it isn’t?
She found herself at least once a day wrapping her arms around Angus’s waist and grinding along his backside, only to hear his low deep growl and for him to swivel, his cock already hard and pronounced, pressing insistently along the seam of her sex. She swore a good updraft to her skirts could make her scream with the release if she didn’t resist the need.
“Do you need an incentive to answer, my dear?” His giant hand had patted her bottom in warning.
“N-no, Sir. I was thinking.” She sighed loudly. “I feel silly. Like a bad little girl. I’m too old and… too big to be lying over your lap for a spanking.”
“And yet, here you lie. Because you did act immature—like a child—drawing pictures instead of what you were told to do. Rebellious and disobedient.” His hand still patted her cool flesh. “Tell me what happens to little girls who behave in this manner.”
God, she hated when he made her think about how she was such a bad girl. She just wanted to misbehave and get spanked. Why did he have to make her reflect on the reasons why she did something or how her misbehavior affected him? She hated having to analyze her bad-girl moments.
“Rebellion, defiance, and lying are usually met with your belt or a strap.” Her heart had galloped in her chest afraid of how harsh of a paddling he’d possibly give her.
He rubbed his free hand over his chin, dramatically thinking, while his other hand still rubbed her bottom, not letting her forget that he had her in a vulnerable position. “Yes, usually you’d be whipped with my strap, but I’m not doing that to you while you’re carrying my child. And to be honest, I’m not sure I care to take my belt to your hind-end while you’re nursing either.”
“Thank you, Angus.”
“Don’t thank me too quick. I’m going to paint your tail with my hand until it looks like the side of a barn, and then when we’re done, you’re going to write in your journal that you’ll be receiving thirty swats of the paddle three nights in a row for this bit of disobedience.”
“Angus! Three days? I’ll be bruised.”
“It’s a possibility. I won’t be overly harsh, but lying to me with blatant disregard for my orders is a crime that requires stiff penalties, girl. You won’t be inclined to do it again, either.” He smacked her bottom, the sting making her jump but with her feet turned in. She’d been unable to close her thighs or clench; just the way he wanted it.
“Let’s begin your spanking, little girl.”
Before she could even take a deep breath or brace herself, his hand had come crashing down, beating a rhythm on her bottom with no distinct pattern, leaving her feeling overwhelmed; she quickly felt sobs rising in her throat. He wasted no time bringing her through the shock and anger phase of a spanking and throwing her headlong into fear and despair—feeling like it may never end.
Clara had thrown her hand back in a desperate measure to cover her backside, but quickly felt his large hand pressing into the small of her back, tucking her tightly against his hip, and she swore she felt his hard cock on her left hip, the familiar shape pressing into her soft belly.
Having lost any ability to clench her bottom or cover her backside, she turned her feet and slapped her thighs shut, attempting to raise them up to cover her bottom.
“Open those thighs and turn your toes in. Now.”
Pleased with a reprieve, she immediately obeyed and lay sobbing and gasping through her tears, trying to calm her cries. It had been a while since Angus had paddled her bottom this hard, and with no implement at that.
Clara had begun to calm thinking that the punishment was over, and she swore she’d be a good girl for the rest of the pregnancy, but it was at that point that Angus’s hand slapped the inside of her thigh so hard that she once again attempted to close her thighs.
However, he’d anticipated that and held them open with his hand while the other punished the tender inner flesh. “You will not close your thighs when I’ve instructed you to keep them open. Clear?”
She tried. Honestly, she tried to answer him. But the pain had taken her breath, leaving her unable to speak at all. She just nodded her head vigorously, sobbing.
He stayed his hands, rubbing her bottom and thighs. “We aren’t done, so that you know. I’m letting you relax before I finish the last volley.”
“Oh… God.” She hung her head down, her hair falling out of the combs, shrouding her face and sticking to the tears and snot that had flown down her cheeks and chin.
“Last few spanks.” That’s all he had said before he resumed punishing her. The last few were hard and all to her sit spots. Her hands gripped his pants, the nail beds on her fingers aching from the strength with which she clenched the material.
He finished quickly, only rubbing her bottom for a short time before righting her to stand between his knees. “Hold your skirt up.”
Her hands clenched the material tightly at her waist. He fished his handkerchief out of his pocket and swiped it roughly over her face, wiping until her face was dry.
“Dry your tears. You asked for every bit of that… and probably more. Turn around and show me your bottom.” He spun his finger in a circle.
She hated when he did this; it made her feel small and embarrassed. Even though he’d been the one to punish it and he’d been doing nothing but watching it turn red, he made her show it knowing it would add to her humiliation. But she obediently pivoted in the spot.
“That’s a mighty sore bottom you have there, my girl.” He stroked a finger along her hot flesh, pressing and pinching areas, her face blushing with each ministration.
“Turn around and tell me why you were spanked like a naughty child.”
Clara grit her teeth as she turned, she hated this part of the spanking as well. He knew why—he made her say it and ask for her punishment. She hated that she was forced to say it again.
“Is that anger sparking in your eyes, girl? Because if it is, I have the perfect remedy. Should I just go ahead and adjust your attitude?” His eyebrows raised, he pulled his pant legs at his thigh, widening his stance a bit to accommodate her again.
Clara had rushed headlong easing his concerns. “N-no, n-no. I’m okay. I’m… there’s no need.”
He narrowed his gaze and then slowly nodded at her. “Continue then.”
“I was spanked because I drew pictures instead of writing my punishments in my log as you told me to. I’m sorry, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “You can drop your skirts and then take your drawers off. You won’t need or want them.”
After they had been taken down, she held them in her hand, giving a cursory glance around her to see if any of the pioneers were watching them. A few minutes earlier, she had not cared or thought about them, the all-encompassing pain in her buttocks her only concern.
“You’ll go to the wagon and write your punishment in the log—thirty swats every day for three days.” He pointed his finger at her. “No games.”
And this was where Clara sat, writing her punishment in the log, sitting on a very sore, and, she had no doubt, very red bottom. It seemed silly looking back on it now that she thought she’d get a
way with not writing her punishments.
Not the best idea I’ve ever had.
She still had three months before she’d be having her son, and she was pretty sure it was a boy now. It made her smile through her tears thinking of how much Angus would enjoy a boy, and she as well.
From what Angus had said, they were only a couple weeks from Echo, Oregon. Their new home. She wrote her punishment in the log and lay down with the notebook in her hand, thinking about the new adventures that awaited her and her family in Echo.
Chapter 19
Angus looked around the town he and his family would be calling home. Echo, Oregon. Small, quaint, but growing fast. They became a shipping stop on the railroad, and because of that, more and more people had built businesses and made Echo their hometown. The town had been officially established almost twenty-three years ago, but since the war, it had exploded. It was a stop on the Oregon Trail, and many like he and Clara had decided it was a good town to reside in and raise a family.
“This is it, girls. We made it. See that building up the road?” He pointed to a red building near the church. “That’s your school. This week we’ll go over and meet your teacher and get you girls started.”
He wrapped his arm around his wife and felt like he could breathe well for the first time in a long time. Happiness wasn’t a familiar feeling to him; he had spent the past few years struggling to make it through the day.
“Let’s go over to the judge’s office at the courthouse and find out about the new sheriff in town.” He winked at her and they walked down the main street toward a brick building with a bell tower. Silas had told him about this job and where to find it on Main Street. He’d always be indebted to the marshal.
The fact that they weren’t that far from Green River made the prospect even more exciting. Angus had heard that the Union Pacific Railroad had been completed making a transcontinental route available from the east coast to the west coast of America. Many states and towns were installing their railroads, so their townsfolk could travel by train to just about anywhere.
The Renegade's Captive (The Widow Wagon Book 4) Page 15