Shana's Guardian

by Sue Lyndon

  “Are you tired?” he asked, cocking his head in her direction.

  “Yes, but I don’t want to leave yet,” she said with a smile, and then added, “As long as that’s all right with you.”

  His little wife was full of surprises. She hadn’t seemed enthusiastic about this celebration, and now she appeared to be having the time of her life. Her foot never stopped tapping the ground, in beat with the music. She didn’t refuse one child who requested a dance, and she spoke happily with everyone. At least there hadn’t been any kind of backlash as a result of their unlikely union. The congratulations thrown his way all night seemed genuine, and he was happy Shana wouldn’t ever have to feel awkward for wedding her legal guardian.

  “We can stay as long as you like, my sweet,” he replied, placing a kiss on her cheek.

  “Thank you, Uncle,” she whispered in his ear so no one else could hear.

  He gave her a stern look for her intentional disobedience. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she wanted a spanking. “You’ll be getting the paddle for that, young lady,” he warned.

  She blushed and looked down. “Yes, Sir,” she said, suppressing a grin and wiggling against him.

  Oh, he planned to give it to her good tonight. Not just because she wanted it, but because he wanted to send her to the Clayton house with a sore bottom as a reminder to behave during his absence. Before he could threaten her further, two children dashed up to her and requested a dance. He sent her away with a kiss and a soft pat to her bottom.

  They stayed until almost midnight, and before they departed Shana dragged him around the square to bid everyone goodnight. He loved to watch her interact with others like this; it brought heaps of joy to his heart. He was drowning in happiness by the time they reached home. And just as he did the morning he brought her home from the chapel, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her inside.

  Except they didn’t go to the bedroom.

  Daman had promised Shana a paddling, and he intended to honor that promise with her bent over the desk in his study, just like old times. He placed her on her feet after entering the room, and loomed over her with his arms crossed.

  Her eyes widened and she took a step back. “Uncle?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Daman? Have I displeased you tonight?”

  He dropped his arms and walked toward her until she was backed up against the wall. “What did I say would happen if you called me Uncle in public?” he asked, keeping his visage hard.

  She paled. “But I only whispered it! I thought you were joking when you said you would paddle me.” She glanced at the awful wooden implement hanging on the wall nearby and shuddered.

  Daman lifted her chin with a finger. “It doesn’t matter if anyone heard you or not. You disobeyed me, and for that I will paddle your little bottom.”

  Her lip quivered, and he was happy to know last night’s tears weren’t a random occurrence. He would make her cry again tonight.

  “Turn around,” he commanded, and made fast work of undoing her buttons once she obeyed. The huge white gown fell to the floor, and he pushed her undergarments down with it, baring her to his gaze and his punishment. He guided her to stand in the center of the room.

  “I’m so sorry,” Shana said, bowing her head.

  His cock was rock hard at this point. Before he ever touched her bottom, the whole process of informing her of her punishment and preparing her for it always kindled his desire. And it always had, even before she’d become his wife.

  “This isn’t just about calling me Uncle in public,” Daman confessed, walking a slow circle around her trembling body. “You’re a married woman now and you need to act like it. I don’t want to hear of you misbehaving in my absence. You will be polite during your stay at the Clayton’s house, and if I hear you get up to any mischief, I will make sure that weeks’ worth of strappings you received after visiting the gypsies seems like a slap on the wrist.”

  She gasped and then nodded her head vigorously. “I promise I’ll be good,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Hands at your sides, Shana,” he said, stopping directly in front of her. “I will use the paddle on you tonight, but I will also punish you in more intimate ways, ways that may seem strange to you. I want you to be a good girl and accept your punishment.”

  She nodded, and this time a tear fell down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb and stroked her face. After a while, he stepped back and eyed her large breasts, heaving under her quick breaths. She stiffened when he pinched one nipple, twisting it until it became a hard little peak. He treated the other nipple to the same pinching and twisting, this time making her whimper.

  “Remember to keep your hands at your sides,” he instructed. A moment later, he brought his palm down against the side of her right breast, giving it a quick slap.

  She started and met his gaze.

  “Lower your eyes,” he snapped. “You will not look at me during your punishment unless I give you permission.”

  In a split second, her eyes dropped to his chest.

  “Good girl.” He slapped her left breast and brought his hand down on her right one again. Alternating breasts, he smacked her soft skin sharply, hard enough to draw sounds of distress from her throat. Her face was red, evidence of her extreme humiliation at this brand of punishment. Before the night ended, she would experience more pain and humiliation at his hands, but also love. He punished her because he loved her. Every mark he gave her was a testament of the deep affection he harbored for the woman he’d gladly sacrifice his life to protect.

  She winced as his hand fell again and again, slapping down on her tender breasts. To her credit, she kept her hands at her side and didn’t retreat from his punishing hand. When he decided she’d had enough, he ordered her to kneel. She sank to her knees and kept her eyes cast down. But what she did next would haunt him for weeks afterward.

  Lifting her chin a notch, she leaned forward and kissed the top of his right hand, the very hand that had delivered the harsh blows to her breasts, and the very hand that would wield the paddle against her bottom. Her lips lingered on his hand for a few seconds, and he felt the moisture of her tears falling.

  If there was ever a doubt that Shana was the perfect woman for him, it evaporated like morning mist in the sun. He began to pet her hair once her lips broke contact with his hand. Her action spoke louder than words, and he knew she loved him and accepted his rule over her. Painfully engorged, his cock stiffened further, and he opened the front of his pants, intending for her lips to wrap around his staff. If he was to continue with the punishment he intended to deliver, he needed an initial release now.

  She licked her lips and took his cock in her mouth, holding the base with her hand. She was such a good girl, jogging her head forward and backward just like he’d taught her, careful to keep her lips sealed tight and her tongue dancing along the tip of his length when her head reared back. His eyes shut and he groaned his pleasure. Electric fire churned in his balls as they tightened, and he delved his fingers into her hair to hold her head in place as he came hard with his cock buried deep down her throat. When he pulled away a small eternity later, his shaft was clean of his seed. Pleased that she’d swallowed all he gave her, he stroked her hair with both hands for a minute before lifting her up to stand.

  “Go stand in the corner with your fingers laced behind your head,” he instructed, giving her bottom a pat as he pointed her in the right direction.

  Shana took up residence in the corner and positioned her hands as requested. Daman took this time to study his wife. Only one mark from her last punishment lingered. All the rest had faded. His mind soon drifted back to the kiss she’d placed on his hand after he’d spanked her breasts. Yes, she was definitely full of surprises tonight. He hated the thought of leaving her to travel to the damned trading post, but the livelihood of many families in Jackson Settlement rested on these trading missions, including his. He could only build and trade so much furniture within the
confines of the settlement barrier. Traveling outside the settlement offered a greater variety of foods and other goods necessary for comfortable living.

  He sighed and retrieved the wooden paddle from its place on the wall. It was slightly wider than the palm of his hand and polished smooth. He’d made it himself, not long after Shana’s trip to the gypsy village. Eight small holes were drilled in the center of the implement to decrease wind resistance and give the paddle a stinging bite. By the time he finished with her tonight, she would be in tears and in a state of submission so deep she wouldn’t bat an eye when he fucked her ass afterwards. Yes, tonight he would claim her bottom hole fully.

  “It’s time, my sweet. Come bend over the desk.” He tapped the paddle against his palm as she complied, walking over to position her nude body over the desk which was usually covered with maps and trading documents.

  His desire reawakened as she spread her legs wide without being told to do it. Normally, she kept her thighs pressed together until he nudged her feet apart. Long blond waves spread around her head haphazardly, obscuring her face. He decided to allow it. He could read her body language well enough without looking at her facial expressions. Gripping the paddle in his right hand, he stood alongside her body and pressed a firm hand against the small of her back.

  The paddle whooshed through the air and landed with a loud crack against her bottom cheeks. Her breath hissed out and he brought the implement down again before she had a chance to inhale. He gave her ten more harsh strokes before pausing. “You will not call me Uncle again in public, Shana.” Whack! “You will behave yourself in the Clayton house while I am gone.” Whack! Whack!

  “Oh!” she shrieked, her hands curling into little fists. “I’m sorry! I promise to do as you say. It hurts. Please-please-please stop.” Her pleading only awakened his desire more. He loved it when she begged, whether it was for more of something or less. It was in his power to give and take, and she was at his mercy, always.

  He shifted position and laid a volley of blows across her upper thighs, causing her to plead further. She wiggled and danced on her toes, but since she was bent over the desk she couldn’t go anywhere. The paddle cracked across her cheeks again. Daman didn’t count strokes, but he didn’t stop the punishment until her bottom and thighs were cherry red and she was sobbing into her hands across the desk. He returned the paddle to the wall and lifted Shana up. As he wiped at her tears, she kissed his right hand again, stunning him into silence for the second time that night. A mirage of emotions he’d never felt before surged within him, so overwhelmed was he by her repeated gesture of love and acceptance.

  His hand traveled lower down her back as he embraced her, and he slipped one finger between her cheeks to discover her bottom hole. She started but stilled in the next moment, allowing him to push against her tight ring of muscle. “I’m going to fuck you here tonight, Shana, and you’re going to be a good girl and relax that little hole while I slide my cock inside you.”

  “Yes, Uncle.”

  Anticipation and desire swelled Daman’s cock larger as he led her to their bedroom. She stood submissively with her head lowered as he stacked pillows at the end of the bed. One snap of his fingers and she immediately bent over the pillows, presenting her body to him like a good girl. Daman lost his clothes on the floor and fisted his cock in one hand as he approached Shana from behind. Her pussy was slick with her arousal, and he used her natural essence to moisten the entrance of her puckering hole. Eager to claim her fully, he thrust forward into her wet center to coat his shaft. Finally, he spread her punished cheeks wide and positioned his cock at her shy, pulsing hole.

  “Remember to relax,” he reminded her, and drove his hard length forward into her tight opening.

  The training with his fingers must’ve prepared her for his large intrusion, because she only clenched down on him a few times as he fucked her tiny asshole. Her soft moans encouraged him to quicken his pace. His mind clouded with erotic thoughts of Shana. The thermometer punishment. Thrusting his fingers into her ass. The way her breasts bounced as he slapped them. And the way she’d kissed his hand in reverence, twice. This last image pushed him over the edge and into a mind-blowing release that had him moaning her name and gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks on her flesh.

  Chapter 6

  “What do you think of this dress for tonight?” Beth asked from the doorway of the guestroom.

  Shana looked up from the mirror where she was brushing her hair and frowned. Ugh. It was Friday. “You’re not really going to the gypsy village, are you?”

  “Of course I am! And so are Margery, the Johnson triplets, and Mary Anne.”

  “How will you sneak out?” Shana hoped Beth wouldn’t ask for help in covering for her absence. It suddenly occurred to her that she ran the risk of disobeying Daman’s order to behave. She knew Beth and Margery were about to disobey their husbands, but she was keeping it to herself. Would Daman be angry if she kept her friends’ secrets? Her heart nearly stopped. Yes, he would be livid.

  “I’m going to tell him Ella Baker is having her baby and I agreed to help the midwife. I’ve helped the midwife a few times. He’ll believe me.” She winked. “And when Ella doesn’t have her baby just yet, I’ll say it was false labor.” Giggling, Beth held the dress against her body and twirled around, then gasped and backed into Shana’s room as if a lion was stalking her.

  Shana stood up and started to speak, but snapped her mouth shut when Mr. Clayton’s huge form filled up the doorway. Her stomach flipped, even though she wasn’t the one in trouble this time, at least she hoped not.

  “Charles,” Beth said, lowering her head. “I thought you were in the greenhouse.”

  “I was, but I came back for my hat. Imagine my surprise to find my wife scheming behind my back!” His last few words came out as roar.

  Shana cringed and retreated to a shadowy spot on the other side of her bed. She didn’t want to witness Beth’s interrogation or inevitable punishment. Would they leave her room?

  “So it’s you,” he said, stabbing a finger at Beth, “Margery, the Johnson twins, and Mary Anne? Anyone else?”

  A sob ripped from Beth’s throat as she hugged the dress to her chest like a shield. “Yes, that’s all,” she sniffled.

  Based on Beth’s fearful reaction to being caught red-handed by Mr. Clayton, Shana suspected Beth had suffered more than that one whipping at his hand. She vowed to take a long walk through the settlement when Mr. Clayton punished Beth. No way did she wish to witness Beth’s pain and humiliation, even if she only heard it. How awful it would be if Daman spanked her in another’s presence. She winced at the thought.

  “I need to go have a talk with Margery’s husband, Mary Anne’s father, and Mr. Johnson. I’ll not have those girls sneaking off and coming to harm. When I return, I expect to find both of you sitting at the kitchen table.” He spun around and left without another word.

  Both of them? Fear raced through Shana and she exchanged a worried glance with Beth. She didn’t think Mr. Clayton would try to spank her, but if she’d misbehaved, in his eyes, of course he’d give a detailed report to Daman. Maybe her knowledge of Beth’s scheming was enough to land her in trouble too. Her throat burned as she imagined Daman’s disappointment.

  “We’d better go wait at the table,” Beth whispered.

  A minute later the two women sat nervously in the kitchen, awaiting Mr. Clayton’s return.

  “I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” Beth said, fresh tears filling her eyes.

  Shana gave her a reassuring smile and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “It’s okay. I was hoping to talk you out of it actually,” she admitted.

  Beth’s lower lip trembled. “Charles will take his belt to me when he returns.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

  “You’ll be fine,” Shana said soothingly. “He might punish you, but I’m sure he’ll forgive you afterwards. Charles isn’t a cruel man. I’m sure he only means to teach
you a lesson. I know he loves you – I can see it in the way he looks at you.”

  Beth wiped at her face and took few deep breaths. “You’re right, but I’m scared.” She looked up at Shana. “I’m embarrassed for you to hear it.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take a walk.”

  “Thank you,” Beth replied, her hands shaking on the table surface.

  An hour passed before Mr. Clayton came stomping through the back door of the house, which opened near the kitchen. His countenance was dark, and Shana trembled inside, even though she knew Daman hadn’t given Charles leave to discipline her, a possibly she hadn’t considered until now. She gulped.

  “Tell me everything. Now!” he boomed, crossing his arms over his chest, the same way Daman always did.

  Shana decided to speak first, mostly out of pity for Beth. She told Mr. Clayton about the time they visited the gypsy village when they were all eighteen, and she summarized the conversation they’d had in the greenhouse a few days ago. “Don’t be so harsh with Beth,” Shana said. “I was planning to talk her out of going. She might not have actually left the settlement tonight.”

  “It’s kind of you to protect your friend,” Mr. Clayton said, “but I heard your conversation with Beth earlier. It sounded like nothing would change her mind.” He paused. “Shana, if Beth still decided to sneak off tonight, would you have come to me about it, or would you have kept her secret?”

  A wave of nausea swept over Shana. So she was in trouble. A little. His question confirmed it, and she dreaded the moment Daman discovered her small part in Beth and Margery’s scheming. “I – I was hoping I wouldn’t have to make that decision. I don’t know what I would’ve done, but I tell you the truth when I say I wanted Beth to change her mind about sneaking off.”

  “Thank you for being honest. You may go.” He nodded toward the back door.

  Welcome relief rushed through Shana, but it was followed by a stab of guilt when she glanced at Beth. Poor Beth. Anger radiated off Mr. Clayton in rapid waves, and Shana sincerely hoped he calmed down before wielding the belt against Beth’s bottom. Daman never punished Shana in a moment of anger. Sometimes she was forced to wait in a corner for an hour or more until he was calm enough to administer a fair punishment, and Shana loved him for it. No matter how much pain she suffered at his hand, Shana never once believed he would dole out more than she could handle. It was why she’d kissed his hand the other night, to show her appreciation for his correction.