Unwilling Bride

by Joannie Kay

  saddle on him before. She patted the stal ion, and talked softly to him as she fed him another sugar cube, then without giving it

  another thought, she put her foot in the stirrup and mounted his

  back in one fluid, graceful moment. Before she had time to get

  her seat, the stallion bucked, and she went flying through the air, and landed face down a few inches from the fence. She rolled to

  her back just as the stal ion reared, and Bridget raised her arm

  protectively to block his hooves as he started to come down on

  her. To her shocked relief, she felt herself being pulled under the wooden railing to safety by two strong arms.

  In the next instant she was lifted clear off the ground and given a good shake. "Are you trying to kill yourself, little girl?" Flynn O’Riley demanded, his green eyes flaying her alive. "What the hell were you doing on that horse?"

  "Now, Papa…" Bridget tried to soothe him.

  "Don’t you ‘now, Papa’ me, girl," Flynn scolded, and Bridget was positive she’d never seen him so angry with her. "That there is the stal ion Will told me he’s breaking… Where the hell is that

  husband of yours?" He asked, his eyes looking around for any

  sign of the younger man.

  "He’s not here, Papa," Bridget had to admit.

  "Bridget, I’m gonna ask you once, and you’d better not lie to me, girl. What were you doin’ on that horse?"

  Bridget swal owed hard, and tried to gently ease herself out of

  her father’s painful grip, but he wasn’t having it. "Answer me right now," the words were sharp, and Bridget knew that she had no

  choice but to tell him the truth.

  "I wanted to try and break him as a surprise for Will," she explained, then forced herself to wince a bit. "I got the surprise, though," she admitted ruefully, hoping she looked and sounded pathetic, and that Flynn wouldn’t scold too much.

  "Are you hurt anywhere?" Flynn asked gruffly, personally checking her for broken bones. He ran his hands up and down

  her arms and over her rib cage looking for injuries, and was

  relieved when there weren’t any.

  "I’m fine, Papa. Honestly. Please don’t tell Will. He’ll be so mad at me!"

  "I ain’t gonna tell him, little girl," Flynn agreed, and when she smiled in relief, he added, "You’re gonna tell him. And you’re gonna tell him why I whipped your butt, too."

  "What?" Bridget backed up a couple steps, only to have her father grab her arm and pull her right back.

  "I told you once that if I ever caught you tryin’ to bust horses, I’d tan your hide. Well I caught you, girl. And if I hadn’t caught you at it, you would’ve been trampled to death." He gave her a

  shake, then said, "I’m pissed as hell at you, Bridget, and this time you ain’t gonna get out of the tanning you deserve."

  "But, Papa! You can’t! I’m married now!" she protested as he pulled her toward the bench in front of the barn.

  "Just because you’ve got a husband, don’t mean I’m not your Pa any longer," Flynn reasoned as he spotted a broken crate lying by the barn. He bent down and with one powerful yank, he pulled

  one of the slats off. "This’ll do just fine," he announced.

  "No, Papa. Please! I’m sorry, and I won’t ever do it again! I promise. I learned my lesson," Bridget pleaded, but Flynn was a determined man. She found herself across his lap, and both her

  hands pinned to the small of her back. "This isn’t fair! You’ve never spanked me!" she screeched.

  "Made me a mistake, little girl, but I’m gonna fix it right now," he replied, and brought the slat down with a painful crack across the seat of her pants.

  "Ow!" Bridget wailed, kicking her legs. "Owwww!!!" her cries grew louder and more desperate as Flynn continued whacking

  her defenseless bottom.

  "I never want to see you on a wild horse again!" SPLATTT!!!!

  SPLATTT!!!! SPLATTTT!!!!! SPLATTTT!!!!

  "You won’t, Papa! Owwwww!"

  SPLATTTTT!!!! SPLATTTTTTT!!!!! SPLATTTTT!!!!!!!

  SPLATTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!

  "I’m sorrrrryyyyyyyyy!!!! Papaaaaaaaaaaa…. Stop!!!!

  Pleaseeeeeeeee!!! Owwwwwww!"

  Flynn continued spanking until Bridget was lying limply over his

  lap, and sobbing her heart out. He threw the slat down on the

  crate, and then stood the redhead on her feet. "You take yourself in the house, and get out of them pants and into a dress. I’m

  gonna unsaddle this horse, and then I’ll be in for a cup of coffee while we wait for Will to get home."

  Bridget ran to the house, crying as if her heart would break. How

  on earth was she ever going to face Will?

  Chapter Nine

  Will knew the minute he entered the kitchen that something was

  wrong. Bridget had tears in her eyes when she murmured a

  polite hello to his greeting. Flynn O’Riley’s facial expression

  could only be termed "grim". "What’s wrong?" he asked in dread.

  The father looked at the daughter, but neither of them replied.

  Finally, Flynn sat his coffee cup on the table with a bang and

  said, "Girl, I meant what I said. You’re going to tell Will what you done, and why I done what I did. I’m sitting right here to make

  sure you tell it straight, too."

  If anything, Flynn’s words seemed to upset Bridget more. Her

  face was pink with embarrassment, and the tears were running

  down over her cheeks. She kept trying to brush them away with

  the backs of her hands, but that did nothing to stop the steady

  flow. She made several attempts to speak, and when she finally

  did, all she managed to say was, "Papa spanked me, Will!!!" In the next instant she was in his arms, crying against his shirt.

  "Don’t you be looking at me like that, son!" Flynn scolded Will.

  "The darn girl had it coming to her. Bridget, you start talking and right now… or else!"

  Bridget kept her face buried in Will’s shirt, but managed to say, "I did something really stupid, Will. Papa saved my life, then he got mad and spanked me…"

  "What did you do, honey?" Will asked in concern.

  "I don’t want to tell you… You’re going to be angry…" she whispered.

  "Damn right he’s going to be angry," Flynn muttered darkly.

  "Damn little fool!" He shook his head. "Girl, I’m close to putting you over my knee again. You tell Will straight-up, and do it now."

  "Bridget?" Will held her at arm’s length so that he could see her face. "What did you do?"

  She bit her lower lip, and then blurted, "I tried to break the new stallion out in the corral. He was eating right out of my hand, and I wanted to do something worthwhile for a change… and so I put

  a saddle on him… and he threw me." She watched as Will’s blue eyes turned dark with anger. "He would have trampled me if

  Papa hadn’t pulled me out of the corral when he did." She

  shuddered. "I’m sorry, Will, and I promise I won’t ever do it again," she pleaded. "Papa already spanked me," she reminded him, not fooled for one second by the look of intent in his eyes.

  His face was set in angry lines of determination, and Bridget was

  afraid she was in for another painful lesson.

  "She’s had a damn fool idea to do this for years, son. I warned her I’d tan her if I ever caught her at it, but she had some notion that ‘cause she’s married, I couldn’t do it. Well, I did, and I’ll do it again if I so much as hear she’s tried it. And doing it when she

  was here all alone… Only a fool little girl would do something

  that stupid!" Flynn ranted. "And I thought you told her ‘no britches’, son?" he added as an afterthought.

  Bridget wanted to sink through the floor when Will turned his

  attention back to her. "You changed into p
ants to ride that

  horse?" he asked succinctly. Bridget nodded guiltily. She could see the muscle twitch in her husband’s handsome face, and

  realized that he was even more upset with her than her father

  had been.

  Bridget tried resisting when he pulled her along with him to the

  drawer in the cupboard, and felt her eyes widen in fear when he

  pulled out the large wooden butter paddle. In just a few seconds,

  he’d pulled out a chair from the table, seated himself, and pulled her down over his lap. Without a thought for her modesty, Will

  tossed up her skirts until al that was covering her was her thin

  cotton drawers, and he brought the paddle down on her sore

  bottom with a loud smack. Bridget cried out in pain, and

  struggled to free herself, but Will easily held her and continued

  paddling her until she was sobbing and begging for mercy. When

  he finally stopped, it was to scold and lecture for several

  minutes, and to insist that she apologize to her father for her

  foolishness, and thank him for saving her life, and for giving her the spanking she so richly deserved.

  Bridget thought he was finished when he put her on her feet, but

  his next words belied that thought. "Go and change into your

  pants, Mrs. Bishop, and come back out here."

  "Nooo, Will! Please, I’m so sore already…" she begged to be let off.

  "You know the rule, young lady. You wear pants; I set fire to the seat of them… each and every time. Go and change… now!" he

  ordered.

  Bridget fled for the privacy of the bedroom, crying as if her heart would break.

  "Son, I used a stave from that broken crate in front of the barn,"

  Flynn said quietly. "I reckon she was sore before you started."

  "She’s going to be a lot sorer by the time I’m through, sir. If you want to leave, I’ll understand. I don’t enjoy hurting her, but I can’t be worrying about her every time she’s out of my sight, either. If you hadn’t come by here when you did, she would have died a

  horrible, painful death. This punishment has to be severe enough

  that she’ll remember it the next time she’s tempted to do

  something foolish." Will felt sorry for the older man, but wasn’t surprised when Flynn squared his shoulders and nodded in

  agreement.

  "She scared me bad, son," he admitted hoarsely. "I’ll keep my peace," he agreed.

  Will waited patiently for another couple minutes, and then called

  out, "Bridget, quit stalling and get in here!" She appeared almost immediately, and he knew she’d been rubbing her backside in an

  attempt to relieve the sting.

  The worn denim was stretched tightly over her swol en cheeks,

  and Bridget had had a terrible time getting the pants up over her

  hips. She was already in so much pain, she honestly didn’t think

  she could stand another spanking, but, when Will motioned her

  over his lap again, she quickly got into position. It was

  embarrassing beyond belief to have her father witness her

  punishment, but, she had hopes that his presence would cause

  Will to go lightly.

  "I’m tired of repeating this lesson, Bridget," Will scolded. "I’m sure I’ll be able to make an impression with my hand today,

  young lady, but if I ever have to repeat this again, I will use a

  strap on you," he promised.

  "Will, I’m truly sorry!" she pleaded. "You really don’t need to do this… Honest. I’ve already learned my lesson."

  He ignored her, and started spanking. Bridget cried out in pain

  each time his hand landed another sharp spank, and soon she

  was kicking, and crying, and begging him to stop. "It hurts! It hurts! Please, Willll…. I’m sorrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyy!"

  Will continued until his hand was burning, then he asked calmly,

  "Well, Mrs. Bishop? Are your pants on fire?"

  "Yeeeessssssssss!" she wailed. "I won’t wear them again, Will. I promise."

  Will stood her on her feet, then said, "I hope you remember that promise, honey, because I will remember mine." She nodded

  tearfully. He continued, speaking softly, "You know what to

  expect now, don’t you, Bridget?"

  She raised her tear-filled green eyes to look at him imploringly,

  and he was hard put to stay firm. He wanted nothing more than

  to hold her close and soothe her, but he couldn’t. He had to

  follow through. She knew the penalty for risking her life. He

  simply wouldn’t allow her to go unpunished for doing so.

  Bridget swal owed hard, but nodded in acceptance. She’d known

  ever since her father had pulled her out from under the stallion’s hoofs that this moment would arrive. Will was a man of his word.

  "You can tell your father goodbye, honey, then take the riding whip off the wall and go into the bedroom and wait. You know

  what I expect you to do," he said quietly.

  Bridget walked over and gave her solemn parent a hug. "I’m

  sorry I frightened you, Papa. I promise I’ll never do this again.

  You have my word on it."

  Flynn hugged her tightly, and then leaned down to kiss the top of

  her head. "I didn’t like tanning you, Girl, but I did it ‘cause I love you. Same as Will is doing now. You be good now," he added

  gruffly. It broke his heart to see her take that small whip off the wall and head for the bedroom, and a part of him wanted to beat

  the hell out of the younger man for "hurting" his little girl. He took a step toward Will, and then saw the look in his eyes. "She’s a handful, ain’t she?" Flynn nodded good-bye, and then headed for the door. He couldn’t bear to stand by for the rest of it.

  Will watched the older man mount up, and then whispered, "Yes, Sir, she sure is a handful." He took a deep breath, and then

  headed for the bedroom. The sooner this was done, the better

  he would feel.

  Bridget was waiting in the corner, completely undressed. She’d

  arranged pillows on the bed, and the small whip was lying right

  there, waiting for him to pick it up and stripe her backside. Right now he was almost sorry he’d retrieved it from the woodpile, but

  it had become a symbol in their marriage. He’d promised to use

  it only when she put her life in danger, and she’d certainly done

  that again today.

  "Bridget, come here, please," he called to her. Bridget walked over to stand in front of him. "Tell me why you’re going to be punished with this," he picked up the small whip and held it in front of him.

  "Because I risked my life today," Bridget replied without hesitation.

  "Do you have any explanation or any reason why I shouldn’t do this?" he asked, willing to let her explain if she could.

  "No, Sir," she replied.

  He took her hand and helped her get in position. Her poor

  backside was a deep red, and he could already see signs of

  bruising. This was not going to be a pleasant experience, and

  she would feel the effects of it for some time. "I’m going to give you twenty, and I expect you to count them, Bridget, and thank

  me."

  He gave her the first one across the fullest part of her cheeks,

  and Bridget cried out in pain. "One, Sir. Thank you, Sir," she said dutifully. By the time he reached the tenth stroke, she was nearly incoherent, and was sobbing.

  "I’ll finish the last ten rather quickly, Bridget. You won’t need to count them," he told her. He placed his hand on her back to

  steady her, and gave her the final ten strokes, the last three to

  the sensitive area where her bottom met her thig
hs. He sat

  beside her and gently rubbed her back while she cried… Then,

  when she finally settled a bit, he moved the pillows from beneath

  her and tucked her in bed. She was exhausted and needed to

  sleep.

  *****

  Will glanced over at his wife and couldn’t help smiling in good

  humor as he watched her waving goodbye to her father and

  brothers. She waved until the stage was out of town, and she

  couldn’t see a trace of them, then she turned and tried to find a

  comfortable position in which to sit for the next several hours.

  After she squirmed unsuccessfully for a few minutes, Will

  couldn’t help chuckling. "Still hurts, huh?" he asked without sympathy.

  "Yes," she didn’t bother to deny what was only too obvious, and she was grateful that they were traveling alone.

  "Not going to try riding any more unbroken horses, are you, Mrs.

  Bishop?" Will asked quietly.

  "No," she quickly agreed. She never wanted a repeat of that day… not ever again!! After the paddling her father gave her, she

  was positive she would never sit again… but it was nothing

  compared to the one Will gave her upon hearing the news that

  she’d nearly been trampled by the wild stal ion. Flynn hadn’t

  done one thing to stop the younger man from raising hell on her

  backside, either, and in fact, he had seemed pleased that Will

  was upset enough to give her a thorough hiding. That had been

  the day before yesterday, and Bridget was positive she could still feel every last stripe the angry Will had dealt her poor backside

  and thighs with the small riding whip. No, she was NEVER going

  to try riding a wild horse again. No matter how bored she was!

  Will nodded, and then gave her a little smile. He’d said enough

  on the subject, and she’d been punished thoroughly. "It was nice of your father to offer to have someone look after the stock so we could get to the folks’ ranch early and help set up for the

  wedding. It’ll give you time to get to know my family before all the guests start arriving."

  "Do you think your parents will like me, Will?" she asked for the umpteenth time since he’d shared the "surprise" with her.

  "They’ll love you, Bridget," he replied with absolute certainty.