Catching Her Cowboy Daddy

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Catching Her Cowboy Daddy Page 4

by Rayanna Jamison


  Damn him to hell. It was bad enough that he had her pegged to a tee, and that he knew all the right things to say to leave her weak in the knees, but now he had to go and compliment her on top of it, even though he had demonstrated very clearly earlier that he was not the least bit interested in her. Talk about adding insult to injury.

  “Seriously Finn, we’ve been out here forever already. Can you just shut up and get on with it?”

  “That depends, do we have an agreement or not? I need an answer, Francesca. Do the panties stay up or come down?”

  Gushing- she was gushing- and in a minute Finn would know for sure. “Up! They stay up!” she cried frantically.

  “And you’ll agree to submit to whatever rules and discipline I see fit to enforce over the next few weeks, or however long you end up staying?”

  Coercion. That’s what it was- plain and simple coercion, and she was past the point of caring. If he didn’t shut up, start spanking and give her something other than his sexy domineering demeanor and rock hard thighs to concentrate on, she was going to come right there. “Yes, Finn! Whatever you say! Please shut up!”

  “Okay then. Just one more thing. In the future, I won’t tolerate this kind of sass and back-talk when you’re over my knee.”

  Mercifully, his hand fell then- the first swat making contact with the fleshiest part of her cheeks, and she screamed in agony and release. The pain was glorious. She reveled in the pain of the first few swats, finding it to be a welcome distraction from her noisy thoughts and aching pussy. After two dozen or so in the same spot, she found she was blissfully numb. Finn must have been able to tell, because he shifted his focus to the tender flesh below her cheeks, where she was already sore from her earlier spanking. When his hand made contact, she screamed, all but shoving her fist in her mouth when the second swat fell, just inches away from the first. Finn kept up a steady rhythm, occasionally throwing in a short reprimand for good measure.

  “You’ll find, Francesca, that when I promise consequences for misbehavior, I will always deliver.”

  She whimpered in response, and he paused expectantly. “What was that?”

  “I... yes, Sir.”

  He stopped abruptly and pulled her into a standing position in front of him. “That was, as promised, for making me spend two hours explaining myself to the sheriff.”

  “What?” Her eyes were full of tears as she blinked up at him, knowing even as she did it, that her charms would have no effect on Finn. “You’re not done?”

  “I always mean what I say, Francesca. You’ll do well to remember that. And now there’s a little matter of theft to take care of. Stealing is a serious offense, and you should consider yourself lucky to be getting off with a strapping. Turn around, and place your hands on this bale of hay.”

  She was beyond anything but abject obedience.

  “Good girl. Ten with my belt, and you can consider yourself lucky. I should make it at least twenty, but given that you’re already going to be sore, ten will be plenty. Don’t move out of position- it is very important that your hands stay in front of you at all times. If you break position-that one won’t count and you’ll get an extra, understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She was breathing heavily between quiet sobs, as she heard him pull his belt free of its loops, and double it in his hands.

  Don’t move. Don’t move Don’t move. The last thing she wanted to do was earn even one extra. The bite of the leather was unlike any pain she had ever felt, and it took everything she had not to throw her hands back to cover herself.

  She managed to stay in position for the next two, but after the fourth struck the sensitive and already very tender tops of her thigh, her feet came off the ground as she danced in place, careful not to move her hands from atop the pile of hay.

  “Good girl, Francesca,” Finn whispered, and she melted from the praise, determined to stick it out and take the rest of her punishment in a way that would make him proud.

  The fifth and sixth fell in the same place, and the pain that she felt was excruciating- but she didn’t move, although by now, she was sobbing nearly uncontrollably.

  Finn executed the next three in quick succession, each one falling just below the one before, to cover the middle of her cheeks. She hissed as the last one fell, and Finn paused, rubbing her lower back.

  “Just one more.” He stopped rubbing, but kept his hand on her back, as if to brace her. She heard the whoosh of the belt as it sliced through the air, felt the vibration as it bounced off her skin, and screamed as it made contact. Finn had saved the worst for last.

  As soon as the scream left her throat, Finn had dropped the belt beside her and scooped her into his arms.

  She was shocked to see that his eyes were thick with unshed tears.

  “Francesca, my girl, you’ll be the death of me, I swear it.”

  He held her in his arms like that for quite some time, murmuring intelligible sounds of comfort as she wept into his chest.

  When she had calmed down, and her tears were dried up, he carried her out to the truck, set her inside, using one of his jackets as a pillow for her to sit upon, and buckled her in. He got her back to the ranch as quickly as possible, and carried her into the house, past the sheriff, and up the stairs, not putting her down until she was safely tucked into bed.

  She had never been treated more like a child, or felt more like a woman.

  *****

  Finn was nervous to see Francesca when he arrived at the Upton’s Thursday afternoon for Thanksgiving dinner. He had purposefully stayed away for several reasons-the first being that he wanted to give her time to heal, and process and think through the agreement they had made. The second was that he himself needed time to process what had possessed him to make such an agreement in the first place. One minute he was vowing to stay as far away from her as possible, and the next he was promising to step up and be the one to sort her out and keep her in line?

  It was obvious that she had feelings for him, left-over, he figured from the not so discreet crush she had had on him in her teenage years. But the feelings he was having for her? Those were all new, and they scared the shit out of him.

  Feeling like a nervous teenager, he finally got the courage to ring the doorbell. He heard the click of high heels on marble, and then there she was.

  “Good Afternoon, Finley. May I take your coat?” She opened the door wide, and when he entered, she leaned in and kissed the air around his cheeks, just like her mother always did.

  Okay, that was weird. She was dressed immaculately- gone were the holey jeans and tight shirts. She wore an emerald green dress that matched her eyes, with a modest bodice and a flared skirt that fell mid-knee. Her black hair, was pulled back and curled, pinned behind one ear with a small little bow. It was ridiculously demure and innocent, and somehow deliciously naughty all at once. He wondered what she had on underneath it.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” he said, handing her the bag containing the wine he had brought.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Finley,” her voice was saccharine sweet and she blushed demurely. “Daddy’s in the living room, getting ready for the big game. He’s been waiting for you.”

  “Okay, thanks,” He stared at her puzzled as she sauntered off towards the kitchen. Something was amiss here. Was she just on her best behavior because of the holiday, or was it something else? He would be getting to the bottom of it later, but for now, he had a game to watch.

  “Finn! Glad you’re here, son. Glad you’re here!” In the past year, Joe had taken to calling him son. At first it had weirded him out, but he had gotten used to it, and now it was just nice. Joe was certainly the closest thing he had had to a father figure in his life, especially since his uncle had died ten years ago.

  Joe greeted him with a hearty clap on the back, and a glass of scotch, and they settled in to watch the game. Finn enjoyed football, but it had never been a big part of his life. Work had always come first. He mainly just watched now and again to keep Joe happy.
He was having a harder time than usual keeping his head in the game, so to speak. Francesca was flitting around, in and out of the kitchen, back and forth as she helped her mother set up for the afternoon meal. She knew Finn was watching her too, and every time she caught him looking she would do this seductive little shimmy in his direction, and it would take all his effort not to be visibly aroused in front of her father.

  Every once in a while, she would come into the living room, “to refresh snacks”, and she would squeeze between Finn and the coffee table, bending over far more than was necessary to set down a bowl of chips. The little minx. He was going to get her for this later.

  Finally, Priscilla announced that it was time to eat. Joe reluctantly shut off the game, and they went into the formal dining area. As it always was, the table was perfectly set, as if for royalty, with the fine china, the silver, and beautiful silk linens. The food would be just as fancy, and delicious, as Priscilla and Francesca thankfully had only been in charge of heating and serving food that Yolanda had already prepared. After a quick prayer and giving of thanks, they sat, Joe and Priscilla at opposite heads of the table, and he and Francesca on opposite sides with food spread out down the length of the table. It was, as always, a feast befitting a king, and way too much food for four people. Priscilla would, after dinner, offer to make him up a plate, and when she was done- it would take up two bags, and contain half a turkey, several pounds of mashed potatoes and all the fixings, which he would eat off for the better part of a week.

  Dinner was a quiet affair, nothing like the Thanksgiving meals of his childhood, but he was happy. With Francesca across from him, and Joe and Priscilla at his sides, it was still familiar- still family.

  Finished eating, he pushed his chair back and stood, patting his belly with a satisfied sigh. “Priscilla, Francesca, thank you for the lovely meal. Please allow me to clean up after dinner as a show of appreciation.”

  Priscilla beamed. “Thank you Finley, that would be lovely. Francesca, be a doll and give him a hand, won’t you? With the two of you, it won’t take hardly any time at all.”

  “Oh, no, I’m fine,” he protested.

  At the same time, Francesca stood. “I don’t mind at all. It will give us a chance to talk.”

  Talking was the last thing on his mind.

  As they cleared the table in silence, Joe excused himself to the living room to finish the game, and Priscilla announced that she was going upstairs to call her family back east.

  When they were at last alone in the kitchen, sure that her parents were pre-occupied, Finn growled, “What’s your game, little girl?”

  “I don’t have a game, Finn. I missed you yesterday, that’s all. Were you avoiding me?”

  “I certainly was. I figured your backside needed to heal, and I wanted to give us both time to think. I shouldn’t have forced you into an agreement under duress. It was wrong of me, and while I still think you are in desperate need of some guidance, I won’t hold you to it.”

  The look on her face was one of stunned devastation- the last thing he had expected to see.

  “Finn, I.. I don’t want out of it! Do you? You think I’ll be too much trouble, don’t you? But I won’t, Finley, I’m really going to try, I promise. I was good today, wasn’t I?”

  The breath left him in a surprised whoosh, as he gathered her in his arms. She truly was in desperate need of attention and guidance, more so than he had realized.

  “You were perfect today, sweetheart, and you look beautiful too. It’s been driving me crazy all day wondering what you have on underneath that dress. I couldn’t focus at all on the game- I’m not even sure who was playing.”

  “It was the Bears and the Packers silly. You know Daddy loves his Packers. And for the record, I don't have anything on underneath this.”

  He knew it was a lie, he had seen the outline of her garter belt when she had refilled the chip bowl.

  “How’s your bottom?”

  “It hurts, still, but I kind of like it. It’s hard to be a brat when you have an aching ass, I’m learning.”

  “Really? Is that why you just lied to my face?”

  “I-oh,” she bit her lip and looked sheepish. “I was just trying to be sexy.”

  “Never lie to me, Francesca. It’s the fastest way to a sore ass you’ll ever find.”

  “Am I in trouble then?” The look on her face was almost hopeful.

  “Not this time. When we’re done here, we’ll take a ride out to the barns, and discuss the details of our arrangement. Yesterday and today, you had a free pass. Enjoy it, because from this point out-your ass is mine. It doesn’t matter if I witness bad behavior or if I just hear about it, from now on, if you act up, that lovely little bottom of yours will suffer the consequences, understand?”

  Francesca snuggled into his chest and hummed. “Yes, Finley, I understand.”

  *****

  She hated when he complimented her because she loved it when he complimented her. She knew Finley wasn’t interested in her that way, but when he made comments like that, it was easy to forget, and get lost in a fantasy world where she was his, and he was interested in much more than modifying her behavior. She liked that part too, don’t get her wrong. If she could have it both ways, she would be in heaven, but she would take what she could get.

  She loved the feeling she got when Finley spanked her- it was the craziest thing, and she was trying not to think about it too much. Seriously, what kind of grown woman of twenty-five liked to be spanked for punishment? She should see a psychiatrist when she got home. She was clearly disturbed from the lack of care and discipline she had received growing up.

  “Francesca, earth to Francesca, you’ve been drying that same pot for ten minutes. You’re holding up the line here.”

  “Oh, shoot. Sorry. I was just spacing out.”

  “It’s okay, I think we’re about done here. Ready to go for a ride?”

  “Yes, I think so.” She put the pot in the drying rack and allowed Finn to lead her out to his truck, once more.

  They both climbed in, but instead of starting it up, Finn just sat there. “For the record, Francesca, I’m not trying to turn you into some Stepford robot. I like your fire-I just want you to put a little more thought into your actions, and think before you speak.”

  “Oh- okay.” She was unsure of what to say next- didn’t really know how this kind of conversation was supposed to go, so she sat quietly and waited to see if Finn had anything more to say.

  “How about we start with some basic guidelines, and we can go from there.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “Let's start with what I like to call the four D’s- disrespect, disobedience, dishonesty, and dangerous behavior. Before you do or say anything, stop for a minute, and think about whether or not it falls into one of those four categories. If it does, odds are, you’ll be bent over my knee before you even see it coming.”

  “Finn, nearly everything fits into those categories!”

  “Not really sweetheart. Everything you’re used to doing or saying, maybe, which goes to show how much you need this.”

  “Everything!” She was seriously annoyed and genuinely worried about the state of her rear end, and seriously contemplating getting on the next plane back to Oregon. The fact that she looked back over at Finn and saw him trying hard not to laugh did not help. In fact, it made her outraged.

  “Finley Tucker- how dare you laugh at a time like this! How could you think this was funny in the least bit? I’ll never be able to sit or walk again! One week here and my ass will be scarred for life! There is no possible way I can keep from doing something that will fit into one of those categories.”

  Finn was laughing now, the more she yelled, the more he came unglued, until he was nearly shaking from laughing so hard, which only served to further infuriate her.

  “You, insufferable pig! This was all part of some sick plan of yours wasn’t it? You hate me, you hate everything about me-and you coerced me into some
deviant agreement to satisfy some strange kink of yours while you apparently get your jollies off by whooping my ass, because that’s all you’ve ever wanted to do to me anyway!”

  Finn instantly stopped laughing, and regarded her seriously. “Francesca, as I told you before, if you feel like you were coerced into agreeing to this, and you want to back out now, you certainly can. I only suggested it, because you seemed to need some discipline in your life, and I thought you would benefit from it. The only reason I was laughing was because your reaction was funny. You’re funny, Francesca, and it’s one of the things I love about you. But, I apparently have a hell of a lot more faith in you than you do in yourself. You can do this, Francesca, and you will benefit from it, but it’s up to you. I certainly won’t force you.”

  Finn’s words helped her calm, and she stared at him, slowing her breathing. She really had to stop working herself up like this. “I want to do it- God help me, I do want to. Do you really think I can? It sounds so hard, and when I think about it, I fear I’ll never sit comfortably again!”

  “I’m not going to lie. It might be hard at first- you’re not used to answering to anybody but yourself, but let me ask one question- how is that going for you?”

  That was the clincher. It wasn’t going well. It was going a heck of a lot worse than Finley or anyone else realized, if she was being honest. It was a fun life, but it wasn’t a responsible one. She knew she could do better. She needed to try this, and if she could convince Finley Tucker to fall for her in the process, that would be all the better.

  “It could be going better,” she admitted stubbornly.

  “What is one of your biggest problems back home?”

  “My mouth, my laziness, my disdain for schedules.”

  He couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I asked for one, but I can work with it. Is that why you can’t keep a respectable job, and why you have to put in a command appearance here every year, so that your parents will continue to pay your bills?”

 

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