Finley, who was looking more than a little choked up was quiet for several minutes.
Finally, he leaned back into the pillows and shot her a withering look. “Okay, you got me. You, my dear, can add storytelling to your list of talents, but there is no way that story was true.”
“Every word. I swear it.”
“Then, how did they end up here? Where’s the tiny house with the garden and the rosebushes? How come I’ve never seen a picture or heard about it?”
“Well, that’s just silly, Finley Tucker. Why would you need to see a picture of the little house with the rosebushes and the garden? After all, you grew up there.”
Chapter Eleven
Monday evening, after waking from a long nap, and eating dinner with Joe, Priscilla, and Franny, Finn hobbled out onto the wrap-around porch. Using his crutches, he walked all the way around, taking in the view from every angle. No matter where he stood, Joe’s land spanned out before him as far as the eye could see. The little farm with its two barns, and tiny pasture had grown by leaps and bounds over the years, and in one afternoon, Finn had gained a whole new appreciation for his mentor, and a possibility of a relationship with Franny loomed on the horizon.
If the bag-boy turned rancher from the trailer park could marry the precious southern belle, why couldn’t the ranch hand turned mayor marry the ranch owner’s daughter? As soon as the thought cleared Finn’s consciousness, he let out a low whistle. Marriage? Where had that come from? He wanted to spank Franny, sure, and, he certainly wouldn’t mind taking things further, he could even see himself dating her, but marriage?
It made sense. If he were to pursue a relationship with the daughter of the one person left in this world who considered him family, he damn well better be sure about it. Messing around and breaking Francesca’s heart was not an option. The thought made him wonder- what had ever happened with Priscilla’s family? Had they forgiven her? Did she have a relationship with them? Priscilla was a quiet sort, and as far as Finley could remember, she had never traveled back to Georgia that he knew of. If her decision had messed up her relationship with her family, could his, assuming that he ever made it, mess up relationships between him and Joe, or Joe and Francesca? He didn’t think so, as there were some glaring differences between the two scenarios, but it was something to consider.
If Finn followed his head over his heart, there was no telling which way this would go yet.
“Finn, Finley, are you out here?” Francesca’s voice broke through his musings, as she walked around the porch he heard the soft click of her worn cowboy boots on the wooden planks.
“Oh, there you are!” she exclaimed, walking up and giving him a quick side hug, careful not to upset his balance. “Deborah called Father’s office phone looking for you;” Deborah was his secretary. “She said she juggled your schedule and meetings and pushed everything into next week so you could have a few days of rest, but that there are some papers that need your attention, and she’ll bring them by in the morning.”
“Okay, thank you. A few days’ rest does sound nice. I was expecting to be back to the grindstone by tomorrow, but quite frankly the mere thought of it is exhausting.” Balancing himself on the rails, he eased himself down slowly and sat on the back steps, motioning for her to join him. She eyed him dubiously and he chuckled.
“Don’t feel much like sitting, eh princess?”
She shook her head emphatically. “No, thank you.”
“Suit yourself. I was kind of hoping we could talk a little, but I’m likely to get a crick in my neck from doing it this way. Guess I’ll just have to wait,” he stated, knowing full well that Franny’s curiosity would get the best of her. It always did.
It took her a few moments to consider, but eventually, she gingerly eased herself down to sit beside him, nearly jumping when her bottom hit the cold wood.
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
Finn paused, not knowing where to start, and suddenly fearing that he was being overly presumptuous by thinking that she would even want a serious relationship with him. He was still considering when Francesca spoke up first.
“Did you like my story?”
“I did. Very much.” There was so much more he wanted to say, but he wasn’t quite ready yet.
“Did it change your mind about anything?” she asked hopefully.
“The jury is still out, but it has definitely given me a different outlook, and more things to consider,” he answered carefully.
“That’s fair, I guess,” Francesca replied with a small pout. “Is there anything I can answer for you that would help with your decision?”
“Well, yes. Is this purely physical for you? Are you just seeking release from...uh, feelings that are a direct result of the spanking?”
Francesca looked shocked and slightly offended by the question, but she quickly recovered. “No. The spanking, and the feelings it evokes, may have been the catalyst in reviving some old feelings, but it goes much farther than that. If it was purely a physical release I was seeking, well, not to be crude, but I don’t need you for that.” She burst out with a spurt of laughter.
“Fair enough. Okay, another one. I am by nature, a dominant man. It is not possible for me to be satisfied in a relationship that does not have a disciplinary foundation. You’re okay with it right now, but are you sure that it’s not because it’s something new and exciting?”
“Geez, Finley, couldn't you start with easier questions?” She joked, blowing her bangs upward so that they fluttered in the air before coming to rest on her forehead once more. “I don’t know how I feel- it’s much too early to tell. I know that I do not hate it, and that I think it helps me, and that I want to make you happy, so I think for those reasons, I would always be open to it, even if there were times that I liked it less than others.”
It was a really good answer, and a fair one. He just had two more. “Franny, for me, a disciplinary relationship is more than just spanking.” He paused taking delight in the way her face flushed with embarrassment, and her pupils dilated as she listened. “If you were mine, I would always be fair, but I would employ a great many measures to get my point across and sometimes I would employ multiple methods to dissuade a certain behavior, and they won’t all be physical, or exciting. Do you think you could be okay with that?”
“You mean like washing my mouth with soap, or making me stand in the corner?” The sentence rushed from her lips in a single breath and ended with a squeak.
“Among other things, yes.”
Poor Franny was turning redder than a tomato the longer he talked, but she didn’t seem outraged, just embarrassed, and slightly curious. It was a good sign.
“I think I could be okay with that,” she whispered shyly. “I mean it sounds awful, but, I trust you, Finley. What’s the last question?”
He smiled, feeling much more relaxed about the situation than he had previously, but Franny was right. He had one more question, and it was a big one. “Who’s going to tell Joe?”
*****
Francesca was shocked to find herself a little shaky as they set out in search of Joe, and she silently cursed Finn’s broken leg and crutches for keeping her from being able to hold his hand for comfort. After much discussion, they had decided to talk to her parents together, in order to present a united front. But also, because they really weren’t sure who it would be better coming from. They had also decided to do it as soon as possible.
As expected, they found her parents in the sitting room, her father reading the paper, and her mother engrossed in a romance novel. Between them sat an untouched tray of coffee and cakes. Neither looked up when they entered, until Finley cleared his throat.
“Joe, Priscilla,” he started, looking more than a bit nervous. “Francesca and I have something we would like to discuss with you.”
Francesca was on high alert, watching her parent’s reactions closely. Her father frowned, slowly folding the paper into a neat square, before setting it beside h
im in the recliner. Her mother looked like she was trying to hide a smile.
Together, she and Finn took a seat on the small loveseat opposite her parents.
For a few minutes, nobody said anything. The tension made Francesca want to puke. Finley had said he would do all the initial talking, and that she would be there for backup or if they had questions for her, but so far his lips weren’t moving.
Francesca hated silence, and she was dying to get this over with to prove to Finley once and for all that he was worthy, and that who he actually was, was way more important than where he had come from.
“Finley and I have feelings for each other, and we would like to see where they go,” she blurted out, wincing when she felt Finn’s eyes on her, with a look she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
Her parents said nothing, and again, she rushed to cover the silence. “Finley was, I mean, we wanted, it’s really important to us to have your blessing.”
“Okay,” her mom finally said, looking unperturbed at the news.
“Sounds good to me,” Joe agreed, already at work unfolding his paper.
Francesca lost it. “Okay? Sounds good? Do you know how much Finley has been agonizing over this decision? Do you know what it took for us to even get to this point? It was hard!” she exclaimed. “And all you have to say is okay, sounds good? Are you freaking kidding me?”
“Franny.” She heard the warning tone in Finn’s voice, but it didn’t even register on her radar. “What Francesca is trying to say,” he interjected before she could speak again, “is that we have put a lot of thought into this, and we are not entering into it lightly. It is our joint intention that this be a serious relationship, and we would really appreciate your thoughts on the matter.”
“Uh-huh,” Joe grunted. “And we gave them to you.”
“What Joe means,” Priscilla spoke pointedly over him, “is that we had been hoping this would happen when Francesca ended up staying longer, and you have our blessing.”
“That’s what I said,” Joe bit out grumpily.
Priscilla just smiled and patted his knee. “I know, dear.”
“Well, uh. Okay, then,” Francesca stuttered, not quite sure what had happened. She stood and allowed Finley to escort her out of the room, and down the hall to where he was staying.
Ushering her in ahead of him, Finley quickly shut the door behind him, and fell against it laughing.
“That was not at all what I was expecting. Not. At. All.”
Francesca was less amused. “I know, right? What in the hell was that? They could not have cared less. Guess I know how important I am to them, wow.”
“Okay, darling, that’s enough. We got what we wanted, and there is no use getting riled up because it didn’t come about in exactly the way we expected. We got the hard part out of the way,” he whispered huskily, leaning in close, “now we can concentrate on the fun part.”
Relaxing slightly, Franny raised her eyebrows. “I thought you said you couldn’t do that stuff anyway,” she said innocently.
“I’m sure there must be some things I can still handle, and if not, I’m still willing to try.”
Chapter Twelve
“I don’t understand why you have to do this now,” she pouted, watching him hobble around the guest suite on crutches, painstakingly packing the small amount of clothing he had brought with him into a beat up duffel bag that bore the logo of a local basketball team.
Leaning down, he kissed her on the forehead, a move that she hated and loved at the same time. “Francesca, we’ve been over this. The pain is subsiding, I’m getting used to the crutches, and I’m back to work on Monday. I just want to be in my own house, before my work week starts.”
“I don’t understand why I can’t help you get settled.” The exaggerated pout returned, and she attempted to compound it with big puppy dog eyes.
“We’ve been over this. You need to go to your dad’s appointment this afternoon, and be there for your family. It makes sense to have Joe drop me off this morning, to help keep his mind off of the appointment. You know how he gets when he has time to stew on something. You’re going to come over later tonight or tomorrow and take me shopping, right?”
“You don’t have a truck. You’re not supposed to drive. What are you going to do if there is an emergency?” Francesca whined. The truth was, she just didn’t want him to go. It had been a blissful few days exploring their new relationship, and she was enjoying having him in the next room.
“Enough,” Finley said firmly, using a tone she had learned bore no argument. “We have been over this all a hundred times. Not another word, Franny.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, and jiggled her foot, concentrating hard on biting back all the responses that were lingering on the tip of her tongue. It was hard exploring this aspect of their relationship while in her parents’ house, but Finley had so far demonstrated time and time again that he would not be tested. She had tested him a lot over the last few days. She had regretted it every single time, but it didn’t stop her from wanting to have the last word this time.
“It’s because you’re sick of me already, aren’t you?”
His eyes blazed, and she instantly regretted her question. She popped her hand over her mouth, shaking her head in denial but it was too late. He quickly crossed to her, and gave the instructions she had come to hate. “Stand up. Turn around. Bend over and touch your toes.”
She had learned quickly that this was a position that was very painful for her, but very convenient for him, and that if she didn’t obey, he would make it much worse before he allowed her up again. Thankfully, he hadn’t lowered her pants, or instructed her to do it this time. Sighing heavily, she obeyed, and braced herself.
Three swift pops, as full of force as he could manage while balancing on one foot, and he was done. It stung, but only for a moment, and she was shocked that it was over so quickly. “Stand up.”
She did so quickly, and turned to face him, questioningly, wondering if he was done. He wasn’t. “Go stand your naughty, disobedient, testy little bottom in the corner,” he commanded, using the tip of his crutch to point towards the intended corner.
Her eyes widened, and she stared at him wordlessly. He had threatened several times, but he had never sent her to the corner before. She rather thought she might prefer the spanking. For a brief moment, she considered pleading, but the look on his face warned her that that was not a good idea, so she walked as slowly as she possibly could over to the designated corner, and stood, stopping when she was still a good ten feet away from it.
“All the way,” Finn barked. “Nose to the wall, hands behind your back, and don’t move until I say to.”
Groaning, she inched way, way up to the wall, until her nose was pressed up against the gray paint, and sighed, making a big show of putting her hands behind her back. To her surprise, she could hear him moving towards her, his crutches on the wooden floor making it impossible for him to be sneaky. In a matter of seconds, he was right behind her, standing so close that if she wiggled even the tiniest bit, they would have touched. He cupped a hand around each hip, and she shivered in response, breathlessly awaiting his next move.
The one he made was not the one she was expecting, as he pushed downwards, sweeping past her hips, and bottom, coming to rest mid-thigh, and taking her pants and panties with him.
“There, that’s better,” he murmured with appreciation. “Naughty girls stand in the corner with their bare bottoms on display.” He stepped back a few feet, and she could feel his eyes roaming over her backside. “Your bottom is still very pink, Francesca. I recommend behaving today. From this point on, I will no longer be limited by the fact that your parents are in the same house, and I can be very creative. If you come by tonight, I will show you all the tools I have at my disposal for punishing my naughty little girl.”
She bit her lip and whimpered, unsure if this was something that required an answer, or if she was supposed to be silent in the corner. She
decided that a well-placed “Yes, Sir,” would not get her in trouble, and if it did, well, it was a risk she was willing to take.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered thickly, shivering as the breeze from the ceiling fan hit her bare bottom, and wondered how long he planned on making her stand there. She could hear his crutches as he retreated, and the soft rustling of clothing that let her know that he was packing.
It was funny, but since she was unable to see him, she was more in tune with every little noise he made, and when she heard his crutches hit the floor as he set them down, and the mattress creak as he sat on it, her bottom clenched, wondering if that meant she still had a spanking coming.
“Franny, you may come out now.”
She turned, unsure of what the proper protocol was for coming out of the corner, and quickly pulled up her pants and panties. If he wanted them kept down, she figured, he should have said so. He said nothing, just waited patiently and quietly for her to come to him.
She hadn’t realized how excruciating the simple act of coming out of the corner would be, and how vulnerable it would make her feel. Every step seemed to take forever, and the walk itself seemed never ending, even though she knew it took less than a minute before she found herself directly in front of him.
“Are you ready to be a good girl now?” he questioned seriously, making her squirm.
“Yes, sir, I promise.”
“I am going to let Joe drive me home, because I think he is antsy about his appointment and needs to get out of the house for a bit. You are going to stay here in case your mom needs you, as I suspect she is feeling a little worried as well, do you understand?”
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