He breathed his own sigh of relief, thankful that it wasn't anything more than a fox and that Elise was safe. Well, safe from any predator. Her bottom was going to be a different story.
He locked the safety on the rifle and marched back to the cabin, shutting and bolting the door behind him. He stared at Elise as she sat huddled on the bed, still wearing the clothes she'd obviously shrugged on in a hurry.
Carefully, he unloaded the rifle and stored it back safely before doing the same with the one she had taken. He took off his shoes and turned around to look at her again.
"So tell me. What exactly did you think you were doing?" he asked as neutrally as he could. He was still angry, but his anger was under control now that he knew Elise was safe.
Her eyes flicked up to his nervously. "I... I heard something outside and I thought I'd just check what it was. I... I thought about waking you, really I did, but I didn't want to disturb you. You've been looking after me so much, I figured you needed to sleep..." her voice trailed off as she realised how feeble her logic sounded, even to her own ears.
Exasperated, he ran one hand through his thick hair. "Elise, what do you think my role here really is?" he asked.
She hesitated. "To act as a guide for me," she finally answered.
He raised an eyebrow in surprise, "That's it?"
"What do you mean?"
"You really think that I'm just here to make sure you find your way around and don't get lost?" His incredulity shone through in his voice.
"Well, no." She was nervous. "I know there's more to it than that. You know the territory and that's invaluable, and I know my family didn't want me out here alone. I told you that."
"Why on earth do you think they didn't want you here alone? You don't genuinely think it was the lack of a tour guide, or the lack of social company? Surely you realised that there was real danger out here, and your family was worried? That my role is to keep you safe and away from that danger?" Now he was becoming angry again.
"Of course I realised that!" Elise was indignant. She knew she'd been reckless that night, but she wasn't stupid, even if her brothers-in-law and now Max did seem to think she needed to be treated like a child.
"Then if you knew there was danger and that my role was to keep you safe, and you'd accepted that when you agreed that we'd travel together, why on earth would you wander unaccompanied out of the cabin to investigate by yourself? It could have been anything out there!"
"I know, truly I know, Max. I'm sorry. It was just instinctive. I heard something and I thought I'd check it out. I took the rifle with me, though." Fleetingly, she thought that that might placate him just a little.
Instead, her words riled him even more and he stalked over to the bed and stood over her, his shadow looming in the small cabin. "And what, exactly, would you have done with the rifle if you had seen something, Elise?" he asked, his voice laced with steel.
"Well, I could have defended myself..." she offered, although she refused to meet his eye, as she had a horrible feeling she knew just where his line of questioning was leading.
"Would you? Really? When you'd also taken your camera out with you as well?"
She shrunk visibly under his glare. "It was instinct, Max. I just grabbed it. I had the rifle in my hands at all times, I promise."
"And what would you have done with the rifle, Elise? We didn't get past the preparation stage of your lessons earlier. Are you so sure of yourself that you think you could have fired and hit your target before any predator got to you?"
She was silent. She knew it was unlikely that she would even have made it past the safety mechanism if she had disturbed an animal that saw her as a threat and attacked. "I'm sorry," she whispered, curling up into herself on the small bed and resting her head on her knees. She knew she'd badly disappointed him. "I just didn't think it through properly. What was it that was out there?"
"A fox," he said quietly. "It may have been looking for food and strayed away from its usual path."
She breathed an audible sigh of relief.
He scowled at her. "You think that makes it better?"
"No!" She jerked up. "I know it doesn't. I know it could have been anything out there, I know that. A bear, or anything. I'm just glad it wasn't, so you weren't in danger, that's all."
He shook his head in bemusement. "You don't get it, do you?" She stared at him. "You shouldn't be worrying about me, or any danger facing me, as I'm trained to deal with it. I know what to look for, where to look. I know how and when to shoot, if needed. If you're worrying about me all the time, it makes you more vulnerable, as you're more likely to put your own safety at risk. I can't have that. Not here."
She nodded slowly, knowing that what he said made sense. She'd exposed herself to danger, not wanting to wake him up because she was worried he needed to rest. Whereas, if she'd thought about it properly, the likelihood was that, as he'd spent years in the military, he was trained to operate on next to no sleep and arduous days. This was probably a vacation as far as he was concerned; he knew the terrain and was used to the conditions. Thinking about it, he hadn't seemed tired at all, even though she was exhausted at the end of each day.
Stumbling over her words, she tried to explain to him how she'd felt and how sorry she was, and was gratified to at least see some understanding in his eyes. It wasn't that he hadn't understood what had motivated her, but rather that he'd wanted her to understand and, then, appreciate why she needed to trust him in this environment. She did trust him, she trusted him utterly.
Her problem was that she was so used to taking care, not only of herself, but also of anyone else who happened to be accompanying her, that it was alien for her to turn her back on those ingrained instincts. She remembered in Chile staying in a tiny village and meeting a family where eight children shared a tiny single bedroom home. One of the children, probably eight or nine years old, had insisted on accompanying her into the desert each day. Elise hadn't had the heart to refuse him, and although she knew that the kid knew his way around far better than she did, it was natural that she spent as much time looking after him, and on occasion his siblings, as she did on the project she was completing there. Even in Kenya, she'd felt protective of Vince, experiencing guilt that the short time he'd spent showing her the ropes, was time he needed to be out earning a living for his family. Inevitably, she hadn't even considered dragging him out with her to any more remote locations; it wasn't fair to him.
Max narrowed his eyes as he listened to her explanation and forced himself to bite his tongue against the scolding he wanted to give her for being so foolish in the past. There were ways of maximising her own safety without taking advantage of others. Elise was so concerned not to take advantage of others' generosity that she put herself in danger. He knew he couldn't change the past, but he could certainly do his best to ensure she changed her ways in the future.
"What are you waiting for?" she asked, as he stood quietly watching her.
He arched one eyebrow, "What do you mean?"
"Well," She took a deep breath, deciding there was little point in postponing the inevitable, "I figure you're standing there just itching to spank me, aren't you?"
He was taken aback at her bluntness, although he didn't let it show. "What makes you think that?"
"Well, that's the way you work, isn't it? Someone breaks the rules, you spank them?"
Now he was surprised, and he sat down on the bed next to her and took her hands.
"No, Elise, that's not how it works and you know it. Yes, I will spank you, but no, I do not spank anyone anytime they break any rule."
She flushed, knowing she must have sounded pretty blasé.
"I spank those I care about, Elise," he continued, "those that are entrusted to my care. And I only spank if that person has done something that seriously endangers themselves or those around them, or shows a lack of respect or common courtesy. I don't," he added with a frown, "spank someone for forgetting to put sugar in tea or any other ridicu
lous scenario or rule you seem to be intent on dreaming up."
"I'm sorry," she muttered, "that wasn't what I meant."
He squeezed her hand. "I know. But, equally, it's important to me to know that you understand why I do what I do. I'll be spanking you because you put yourself into unknown danger, in an environment you're not used to, with a rifle you're not experienced enough to know how to use safely."
She felt her cheeks redden even more. It sounded so basic, and so stupid, when he set it out so bluntly. She couldn't even think of anything to say to defend herself and just whispered, "I do understand, Max. Really I do."
He looked at her quietly and realised that she genuinely did understand, and nodded at her. "But, before I do anything, I also need to know that you understand that me spanking you is very different to David hitting you in Kenya. I don't want you to associate what happens between the two of us with that kind of violence."
"Max! I know it's different. There's no comparison. When I told you about David, when I was quiet that first morning, it wasn't because I was worried that you were like David, that you were violent. I just needed to be sure that I'd thought things through before getting involved with a man again after that experience." Even though she didn't want the spanking she knew was coming, she couldn't let him worry that she thought that it was in any way the same as David's violence.
He could see she meant what she said and was relieved not only that she saw the difference, but also, that she hadn't tried to get out of the spanking by manipulating his worry about the psychological damage David may have inflicted on her. He squeezed her hand lightly before getting up and walking over to the small cupboard containing kitchen basics, opening a drawer and taking out a large wooden spatula. He'd seen it there before and had figured it would be the ideal implement for a situation like this. It was old and smooth to the point of being almost silk-like in texture; no chance of any rough edges or splinters harming Elise's soft skin. It also had a large rectangular flat surface. Perfect.
He walked back to her and she looked at the spatula apprehensively. "That will hurt, Max," was all she said.
He nodded. "It'll hurt, but it won't harm you, I promise. Are you okay with that?" He knew she had to accept what was about to happen. She had to trust him.
She hesitated and then nodded, her eyes wary of the spatula but looking to him for reassurance.
"You're always safe with me, no matter what. Okay?"
She trusted him. She had from pretty much the first day they had met, even though she'd wanted to be more cautious because of her experience with David. She knew, however, that Max would never hurt her or, at least, not in any way that she need fear. She put her hand in his and got up so she was facing him, and then rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. They stayed in that position for a few long seconds, both of them taking comfort from the other.
Eventually, he tilted her head upwards to look at him and kissed her forehead gently before leading her over to the same chair that had been witness to her previous disgrace.
As they stood in front of the chair, he put the spatula down on the sideboard next to it and, bending down, he removed her socks before raising himself to gently unzip her pants, pushing them down over her hips and helping her step out of them, so she stood before him in only her thick jumper and panties.
He sat down and, taking her arms, tugged her forward, so that, swiftly, she found herself over his knee with her bottom raised in the air over his lap. Gently he looped his fingers under her panties and drew them down over hips, letting them tangle around her ankles and effectively bind her into position.
She gasped. Although she'd known Max would want to spank her bare bottom, and although, with their shared intimacies, she had nothing to be embarrassed about with him, this somehow felt different. It was more intense, somehow more intimate, even though he'd barely touched her. Maybe it was the vulnerability inherent in the position, maybe it was the trust she was placing in Max, maybe it was even the growing recognition of the strength of her feelings towards him, and of his feelings for her.
He hadn't said a word; she just felt the whoosh of cold air and heard the crack as his palm descended sharply on her bottom. "Ow!" she cried out at the unexpected sting. "Max!" She'd expected that he'd at least warn her of what was coming.
"This is your warm up, Elise. I don't want to bruise you with the spatula, so I want to make sure your bottom's warm enough already with my hand."
"Ow!" His hand came down again. He wasn't pausing between spanks; he wasn't letting her catch her breath to get used to the sting. She craned her neck back frantically to see him. "But, Max..." she protested.
"No 'buts', Elise. Not now. You'll get as many of these as I see fit, before we start with your proper punishment."
She gasped as the sting began to spread into a heated glow that settled across her bottom and thighs; it was as if a million ants were nipping her soft skin at once. She began to wriggle; she couldn't help it, her skin was suddenly coming alive without the protection of her panties.
Again and again his palm cracked down on her bottom with an audible "thwack" that made her jump, but he simply twisted his leg around her ankles to prevent her wriggling.
After long minutes, her protests and wriggling turned to muffled cries and he saw that she'd stopped fighting the spanking mentally. Straight away he picked up the spatula and told her quietly, "Sweetheart, I'm going to give you thirty now. They'll sting more than my hand, but they'll be over quickly."
He was pretty sure he heard a muffled "okay" through her tears.
True to his words, he was quick. He brought the spatula down quickly and firmly over her bottom, raining sharp spanks over her buttocks and the tops of her thighs, making sure he spread them out evenly so he didn't bruise her.
She felt the difference between the spatula and his hand immediately and yelped at the pain of the wood's bite. Whereas his hand had been sharp, its effect had been more gradual, bringing her bottom from a warm glow to a heated fire slowly. The spatula, however, provided no such grace period. It pinched her heated skin with every crack.
He'd thought about making her count the spanks with the spatula, but had decided against it - perhaps another time, when they were, hopefully, in a slightly more comfortable environment. Although the cabin was luxurious compared to the makeshift campsite that usually accompanied trips such as this, it still wasn't the kind of place he would choose for this kind of activity. He wanted Elise to be as comfortable as possible, so that the only part of her that wasn't at ease was her bottom. That wasn't going to be the case in the cabin, with its small bunks and hard chairs. So, all in all, he just wanted to get this over as quickly as he could, whilst still making sure that Elise would remember and learn from the spanking.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The spatula bit into her sore bottom and tears continued to flow down her cheeks. She didn't know how many spanks she'd received; she couldn't think clearly enough to count. All she could do was try to transcend the pain, though her mind was consumed with thoughts of how stupid she had been. She knew better than to be so reckless, and now she was paying the price.
After twenty spanks he asked her, "So, Elise, in the future if you hear something odd during the night, what do you do?"
"Wake you, I promise, I'll wake you," she cried out. She hadn't even had to think about her answer.
"And what do you do if you think you need to use the rifle?"
"Ask you. I'll always ask you."
"Correct. Until we've taught you properly and I know you can handle it, you ask me."
"I'm sorry, Max. I'm so sorry. I was stupid. I know I was. I do trust you. I trust you completely."
The last ten thwacks with the spatula seemed to last forever, and she was sure her bottom was blistered and bruised as she cried out in pain.
Finally, after one last hard thwack, Max put the spatula down, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, placing her down on her side so that
the rough blankets didn't scrape against her blazing bottom. He lay down next to her and cuddled her to him.
"I know you trust me, Elise. But you need to think more about your actions, and take better care of yourself. I'm here to make sure you stay safe, but that needs to be your priority as well. Okay?"
She nodded, burying her head into his chest.
He sighed and kissed the top of her head. "Okay then. What's done is done and tomorrow's a new day, so let's put this behind us. How are you feeling, love?"
"Sore," she muffled her response.
He chuckled, "Good. You're supposed to be sore. I meant more how are you feeling emotionally? You had a big shock out there, not knowing whether what you heard was harmless or dangerous, and I'm not insensitive you know. I do realise that being spanked like that is emotionally draining for you and you may feel all mixed up."
She paused. She'd already worked out that, despite the dominance and authority he exuded, he was also understanding and caring. She lifted her head slightly so she could look at him. "I feel tired and drained, but not mixed-up. I know why you spanked me and, although it's not easy to admit, I know I deserved it. I should never have left the cabin without you, or tried to handle the rifle by myself."
"I would never spank you without a reason, and that reason would always have to be a good one."
"I know. Though that sounds like you're planning to carry on spanking me after this trip!"
This time he laughed properly, "Only if you deserve it, I promise!" before adding, more seriously, "Although we've only got a few more days left here, I am hoping you still want to see me after we return to England?"
She smiled shyly and nodded. "Of course I do, Max. Though I won't be giving you any reason to spank me!"
Elise's Story: A Bentley Sisters Novel Page 9