His Passionate Pioneer

by Maggie Ryan

  Richard sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. He looked over at her and said, very quietly, "I'm not going to warn you again, Annabelle Rose. You may not walk right now, and if you insist on continuing to sass me, you will find your bottom roasted again. Think about how that would feel."

  She gritted her teeth, shooting him another look that caused his lips to tighten. "Richard, I hurt all over. My legs hurt from bracing myself and my backside is burning."

  "Honey, I understand, and it gives me no pleasure that you are hurting. But, little one, you have only yourself to thank for the condition of your arse. I've suggested positions that might provide you some relief, but I will not force you to take my advice. I do suggest that you stop whining like a child." As she turned away from him, he sighed.

  The day had started off well. Repeated applications of the cream had allowed the bruises and the welts to almost completely fade. She'd thanked him each time and with the benefit of Mabel's gift of the pillow, and the foot box, he felt that he'd done all he could to provide her with as much comfort as possible. He had given her leeway when her first complaints had started, but he had no plans to allow her to whine, pout or shoot him nasty looks for the entire day.

  He missed his wife's excited chatter. Yesterday, they'd laughed and teased about the town outing. It had been nice to know they'd leave the town behind with more than memories of unpleasantness. He'd heard her sigh when the town had disappeared from view, and had asked if she was homesick. She had answered that she was a bit, but was very happy where she was. Well, obviously that had changed, as he heard her grunt again with another bounce.

  Anna sniffed loudly, wiping her face with her hands. The wagon bounced yet again and this time she was unprepared. Her bottom slammed down onto the pillow and she cried out loudly. "Damn that hurt! Are you happy now? First you paddle and strap my arse until it is raw, and now you might as well be whipping me all over again. I hate this wagon, and I hate you! I want to go home!" She stood up on the wagon seat and made to step through the small opening in the canvas to enter the interior.

  Richard saw the danger and grabbed her arm just before the wagon dipped again. She screeched as she lost her footing, and would have fallen off if he hadn't been holding her arm. She flailed her own arms around, trying to catch her balance. Richard tugged her down until she fell onto his lap. Then he looked down at her. "Enough!"

  Anna looked up at her husband and seemed to understand that perhaps she had gone too far. She lowered her eyes and he remained silent, his chest rising and falling as he took deep breaths to calm himself. If she had fallen, she could have been run over by the heavy wagon, and that thought scared him to death.

  Pushing herself pushed off his lap, she took her seat on her pillow. The tension between them was very uncomfortable. The day grew later as the oxen struggled to pull the heavy wagon up another steep incline. Anna groaned occasionally but kept her tongue still. The silence was deafening, neither saying a word. Finally, they crested the last hill and began to descend. Anna braced her feet hard against the box and gripped the wagon seat tightly.

  * * * * *

  Once at the bottom of the hill, Richard pulled off the trail to an open spot between two other wagons. He applied the brake and wrapped the reins around the lever. Still not speaking, he jumped down and started checking the oxen and the wagon wheels. Richard finished his inspection and turned to see James walking towards him.

  "That was something, wasn't it?"

  Richard nodded. "I don't see any damage, but did hear some items moving around inside. We'll need to tie everything down more tightly before we climb many more hills."

  James nodded and looked up at Anna who was sitting with her head down, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her skirt. "Charity wanted to know if Anna could go pick some berries after supper. Morgan said this was a good spot to camp before continuing, so we won't leave until tomorrow. A few wagons didn't fare as well as ours and need some repairs. I volunteered to help if you don't need me."

  Richard nodded at James' words and then looked up at his wife. She was the picture of misery, and he knew they had to take care of their own business first. Silence was definitely not the answer to her misbehavior. "Tell Morgan I'll be over to help with repairs, and tell Charity that Anna will be over to pick berries." He saw his wife lift her head to look at him. "However, we need some time to ourselves first so I'll join you in a bit."

  James looked between the two and nodded. "That's fine. I'll let them know. The river is just beyond the trees. We're watering the oxen and cattle downstream, but if you'd like to refresh yourselves, walking a bit upstream will provide both water and a bit more privacy."

  Richard nodded. "Thanks. I think that's a very good idea, especially for what is needed."

  James again looked between his two friends. "Why don't you two go ahead? I'll feed and water your team with mine. I might need you to do the same for me one day."

  "Thank you. I'd be glad to help you anytime." Richard walked to the wagon seat and held out his arms. Anna stood and allowed her husband to lift her down. When her hand reached behind her to rub at her backside, Richard spoke softly. "Don't bother, young lady. No amount of rubbing is going to soothe you." He took her hand and, without another word, headed towards the river.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Richard didn't speak as they walked. He held Anna's hand tightly, guiding her down the path, the sound of running water to their right. They walked quite a way, leaving the sight of the wagons, as well as any sounds from the large group, far behind.

  "Where are we going?" Anna asked quietly. "I thought we were supposed to stay close to the train." When he didn't answer and just kept walking, she spoke again. "You remember? Mr. Morgan said that—" As Richard came to an abrupt stop and looked down at her, the remaining words died in her throat.

  Richard nodded and began to walk again. The next time he stopped, past another bend in the river, she watched him look around as if to make sure he saw nothing that indicated he should worry. He moved through some bushes and lifted a few low hanging branches out of the way so she wouldn't be struck by them. He held her hand tightly as they walked down an incline to discover a small clearing at the edge of the river.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have acted that way; it's not your fault the trail was so bad. Thank you for not letting me fall."

  He nodded and squeezed her hand even more tightly, but still didn't speak. Anna swallowed hard. "Please, Richard, please talk to me. I know you're angry and I am really sorry. I promise not to complain again. I don't know what you want me to say. You're scaring me."

  He took a few deep breaths and then turned to his wife. He took her arms in his hands, turning her to stand in front of him. His silence had been because she had truly scared him and her words had hurt him deeply. He didn't want to lash out at her in anger, needing the time to calm down in order to be able to talk to her in love, not hurt. He hated hearing her say that he was scaring her. He had no doubt that she was sorry but saying words was easy—taking them to heart and learning from them was far more difficult. Looking over her head, he watched the water flow over some rocks, the sound relaxing him. Drawing her to his chest, he felt her arms wrap around his waist. Richard stroked her back and began to speak very softly.

  "It hurts me to know you think I'd hurt you on purpose, Annabelle. You are hurting because you were naughty and had to be punished. I am sorry you are in pain but, Anna, I ask that you remember how you got your bottom in the condition it is in."

  She nodded against his chest. "I know it's not your fault, and I shouldn't have said what I did."

  "I know you are sorry now, but you can't be allowed to speak to me that way. I gave you several warnings and you continued to sass and be disrespectful. Cursing is an ugly thing, and I never want to hear you speak those words again. I know this is all new to you and that the journey is hard. It's only going to get harder. We still have months of travel ahead of us, and there will be days
that seem like hell. If we don't work together, it will be a miserable few months. I want you to remember why we are taking this journey. We have so much to look forward to, but, Anna, I can't have you sassing and being ugly. It hurts me when you accuse me of hurting you or saying that you hate me."

  "I didn't mean those things. I was just so mad. It was a very spiteful and ugly thing to say." She sighed and shook her head. "I suppose you brought me all this way because you are going to spank me?"

  "Since you think I'm so mean and just want to hurt you, why don't you tell me what you think needs to happen to remind you how to behave?"

  She sniffed and shuddered. "Part of me wants to say my apology should be enough." She looked up at him, but he made no move to indicate his reaction to her words. "But the adult part of me knows that won't work." She hugged him harder. "Spank me, Richard." She shivered but forced herself to continue. "Do as you've promised. Take me in hand and teach me."

  He nodded. "That is a good start."

  Anna shuddered at the word 'start' but nodded. "Richard, I do know you wouldn't hurt me on purpose, and yet that is exactly what I did to you. Just keep loving me."

  He bent and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "I'll always love you, Annabelle, don't ever fret about that. Even when I have to punish you, it is done out of love, not hate, and certainly not because I want to hurt you. You are my wife, my life."

  "I do know that. I was just awful. I really don't know why I was so ugly." Brushing a tear from her cheek, she looked up and whispered, "I'd rather take a spanking than have a silence build between us."

  His heart was heavy. He truly didn't want to cause her more pain; her bottom was still tender, the healing not helped by bouncing about on the wagon seat. It was only within the last few weeks that he'd truly come to understand what his Pa, as well as Anna's, had tried to tell him. Being the man of the house came with responsibilities. While he willingly accepted the load to provide for and protect his wife, he now understood that those duties were comparatively minor. The hardest thing he had to do was to harden his heart and discipline the woman he would lay down his life to protect. He stepped back and led her to a tree stump at the edge of a grove of trees. "Remove your boots and stockings. Lift up your dress and drop your drawers. Put your hands on the stump."

  She nodded and, after removing her boots and stockings, reached under her dress to untie her drawers with her shaking fingers. They dropped to her ankles and she blushed as she lifted her dress and her petticoats to her waist, baring herself. She turned and bent over, placing one hand on the stump, her bottom lifting into the air as she held her clothing with her other hand.

  He lifted her clothing to drape over her head, baring her fully. "You'll need both hands to brace yourself."

  Putting her other hand on the stump, she shook her head to free it of the fabric, and immediately wished she hadn't when she saw him walk to a tree and make his choice. He removed his knife from its sheath and quickly trimmed the branch until it was a single thin switch, careful to make sure there were no leaves or tiny knobs protruding from it.

  "Tell me why you are getting a switching, Annabelle." He heard her swallow hard. She had told him that she hated this part—the part where he made her think about her transgressions and then admit to them. He considered it at least as important as the physical portion of the punishment. After all, unless she understood what she had done wrong, until she examined her actions and could admit to both him and herself that her choices had brought her to this place—the place where her bottom was punished—then any strokes given, no matter if one or a hundred, did neither of them any good.

  "I sassed you. I kept pushing you when you were attempting to console me. I was ugly and disrespectful. I blamed you when I know it is my own fault. I said some ugly, hateful things and some naughty words. I'm sorry, Richard."

  He nodded. "Thank you. I'm not going to switch your bottom." Her head turned back, her eyes and slightly opened mouth indicating her surprise. "Your legs will take the punishment," he went on. "Keep your knees together and your feet flat on the ground."

  He saw a shudder run through her body but she nodded, her legs pressing together from where they had been slightly spread. Richard lifted his arm and Anna moaned as the first thin line of fire was painted across the backs of her calves. He knew he had to punish her, but also knew it was his decision as to how. She'd have no new lines to sit on but her calves would itch beneath her stockings, reminding her there were consequences to pay for her behavior. The switch bit into her legs again and again until she was dancing, lifting her feet, dropping to squat, trying to avoid the fire.

  "Up, Anna, or we begin again."

  He was proud when she forced herself to straighten, her toes curling into the dirt at the base of the stump. "Good girl," he said. "Five more." These were delivered rapidly, one after another; the switch a blur before he stopped. Snapping the rod in two, he threw it away from him.

  "I'm so sorry," she sobbed, her calves striped and trembling.

  "I know, sweetheart, I know." He stepped to her, taking her arm and helping her to stand. Turning her, he gathered her into his arms. "You did well, sweetheart. I'm proud of you. We are almost done." Taking a seat on the stump, he guided her down onto his lap, love filling him as she cuddled into him, one small hand clutching his shirt. Keeping her steady with one arm around her waist, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pouch. "Open your hand for me."

  * * * * *

  Anna kept her eyes on the pouch as he slowly loosened the drawstring. He turned it upside down, shaking the contents out into her open palm. She looked from it to his eyes and then back to her hand. A wooden object with a thick string running through the center had her puzzled. Her eyes lifted to his again. "Is this some type of button?"

  "Your bottom button."

  His answer made no sense to her. For a brief moment she wondered if he'd misspoken. This was not a button to be found on a blouse, or even a woman's dress or skirt. It bore a resemblance to a toggle fastening at the throat of a cape, and yet was longer and wider in the middle than any toggle closure she'd ever seen. Toggles usually had a small protruding piece of metal located in the center so that they could be sewn to clothing. This button had no such thing. Its center was hollow, allowing it to slide along the string, almost like a pendant on a chain. She had never had a necklace like it, nor ever owned a piece of clothing that had buttons of this size. Removing her hand from where she had been clasping his shirt, she turned the button over and then lifted it by the heavy string. "I don't understand. This isn't one of my buttons."

  His finger moved to touch it. "Yes, Anna, it is. This button goes up into your bottom."

  Sure she had misheard, she shook her head. "What?"

  "You heard me. Just as I push my finger into your pucker to remind you, your bottom button does the same. It isn't feasible for me to keep my finger inside you for hours." He moved his hand to cup her chin, turning her face to his. "Your bottom button can be placed deep into your naughty bottom and left for long periods of time."

  "I-I've never heard of a bot… such a thing."

  "I'm not surprised. I doubt any woman who has one inserted wishes to advertise the fact. I can assure you it isn't a new invention. My father often buttoned my Ma, and both Roy and Thomas use the buttons with their wives. My brothers assure me it can be quite the effective lesson. I've carved this for your pucker."

  She listened without interrupting, her heart beginning to pound faster with every word he spoke. She'd heard of paddles, belts, straps, slippers, birches, switches and even canes being used to punish a naughty girl, but never in her life had she ever imagined a common item—a button—could be used in such a way. Of course, she'd never imagined he'd pierce her back passage with his finger, either. Memories of his 'reminders' had her bottom hole clenching.

  "You're going to put this inside me?"

  "Yes, you will have it inserted into your pucker, and will wear it until I decide to rem
ove it. You don't need to worry about your arse swallowing it; the string will remain outside your body and allow for me to easily remove it when I feel you've learned the lesson." He patted her leg and helped her to stand, keeping his hand on her arm and guiding her to his side. "Right over my lap, Anna."

  She felt her entire body flush. Her eyes darted about the clearing as if expecting an audience. "But, Richard—"

  "The only butt I'm interested in is yours draped across my knees. I have explained the purpose of your button so that you'll understand the lesson, not to have a discussion about whether or not you agree with its need."

  She lowered herself across his lap and felt him adjusting her until her backside was positioned as he wished. God, why had she been so awful today? If she could turn back the clock, she would do so in a heartbeat.

  "Spread your legs for me."

  With a soft whimper, she obeyed, and felt his finger move between her thighs. Her color deepened with the realization that she was wet, her body having betrayed her the moment he had led her to the river. Her cunny clenched with need as he slid a finger into her, and she felt her juices begin to flood her sex. She squeezed her eyes shut, sure it wasn't proper to be so wet, so needy. She was being punished, not pleasured.

  "Relax, Anna, it's okay. You not only can't control your body's response, but it pleases me to know that, despite your punishment, you are ready for me to love you." His finger continued to push in and out a few more times before he removed it. "Reach back and hand me your bottom button."

  Her face flaming, her eyes still refusing to open, she slowly reached behind her, passing the awful button to her husband. As her hand began to return to the ground, his next order stopped its movement.