by Sue Lyndon
“Perhaps you should visit the library,” Mr. Clayton suggested as she opened the door. “We might be a while.”
Poor Beth indeed. Shana left without responding and headed for the library. Mr. Anderson was thrilled to see her, and she told him she wanted to prepare for next week’s story time. She picked out a few children’s books, set them aside in the story time area, and proceeded to roam the aisles aimlessly. Returning to the Clayton household would be quite awkward this afternoon. It was ten in the morning, but she didn’t plan to return until lunchtime. After discovering a hardcover of The Lord of the Rings in fairly good condition, Shana curled up in a chair in a quiet corner of the library and flipped it open. She didn’t make it past the first page without her thoughts wandering like a lost kitten.
Would Daman return next Saturday as promised? Or would some unforeseen event delay his homecoming? On occasion, bad weather added an additional day or two to their trip. It had rained for two hours yesterday morning, and she’d spent the whole two hours staring out a window, wondering if it was raining on the road where Daman traveled.
She continued reading but didn’t catch much of A Long-expected Party, which seemed to be the longest first chapter of a book she’d ever read. Instead of thinking about Hobbits and The Shire, she thought of the wedding celebration. What fun she’d had, dancing with all the children and talking to everyone in the settlement. No one had given her so much as a judgmental look, let alone spoken rudely to her for marrying her uncle. Feeling foolish, she realized she’d only imagined whispers and strange glances following her in the days preceding the celebration. Daman was so well-liked in this community that he could probably set the chapel on fire and be forgiven. That image brought a smile to her face, and she scanned the library to make sure no one was watching.
As the clock tower down the street rang twelve times, Shana decided to return to the Clayton’s. Surely, two hours was enough time for Charles to calm down and deliver Beth’s spanking. When she reached the front door of their house, she paused and listened for a few minutes, ignoring the occasional passerby on the street. Satisfied that she wasn’t about to interrupt a spanking-in-progress, Shana opened the door and held her breath as she crept quietly toward the kitchen.
“Oh, there you are!” Beth said, smiling prettily. “Lunch is ready. Talk about perfect timing.”
Shana returned her smile and shot a wary glance at Mr. Clayton sitting at the table. He gave her a warm look and gestured to one of the chairs. “Please, join us.”
Beth was all shy smiles during lunch, and Shana was thankful the tense mood in the house had lifted. Mr. Clayton volunteered to help Beth dry the dishes, to Shana’s great surprise. Before she left the kitchen, she saw Charles wrap his arms around Beth and place a kiss on her cheek. Jealousy and loneliness coursed through Shana in equal amounts, and she fled into the hallway. With nothing else to do, she sought the comforting warmth of the greenhouse, where she found several settlement women mixing soil to place into flats in preparation for the planting of sweet peas, broccoli, and peppers. Shana joined them and was having a wonderful time . . . until it began to rain and her thoughts drifted to Daman.
* * *
Two long, painful weeks passed with no sign of the men who’d left for the trading post. They were four days late, and Shana was beside herself with worry. Charles and Beth dragged her to church to attend a special prayer in honor of the missing men, but no one volunteered to ride out on a horse to scout for them. Mr. Clayton must have suspected Shana was thinking of riding outside the settlement barrier herself, because he kept her in his sights at all times and locked the barn at night where he kept his two horses. She could’ve easily slipped out the back door after he fell asleep and borrowed one of the neighbors’ horses, but she was terrified of riding off into the night alone with no sense of direction. Getting herself lost in “The Dark World” wouldn’t quicken Daman’s return.
After the fifth day, extra guards were placed along the settlement barrier, ensuring no one could leave or enter without being seen, even at night. In all the years Shana had lived in Jackson Settlement, she’d never witnessed such precautions taken. She supposed if something terrible could befall a group of two dozen strong, armed men, then the same something terrible could befall the settlement. Perhaps outcasts had banded together and formed an army of thieves and murderers. She shivered at the notion.
Mid-November rolled in and Shana awoke on the eighth day to a blanket of snow covering the ground. She’d never felt so cold in her whole life.
* * *
Daman stretched his sore legs as he watched some of his men melting snow to water the horses. “We pull out in twenty minutes!” he shouted to the group. A few men nodded, but the rest huddled down in their jackets and didn’t acknowledge his order. No matter. He had faith the wagons would be back on the road in twenty minutes. As long as the weather held out this afternoon, he expected to reach Jackson Settlement by nightfall. And as long as nothing else bad happened, he would return with all his men alive and healthy. He wished he could say the same for the horses, but armed outcasts bunkered down in the surrounding hills had been picking their horses off for over a week now. Once the scoundrels shot a horse, Daman’s group had no use for it and left the body on the road. The outcasts wanted the meat, and unfortunately Daman’s caravan made for easy prey.
Hours passed and the snow on the road deepened, but the sun shined bright until it eventually slipped away behind a huge white mountain. They lost two more horses before the lights of Jackson Settlement appeared on the horizon. A great cheer went up into starry sky as his men showed their appreciation for reaching home at last. Daman ached to hold Shana in his arms, and the others had loved ones they missed terribly too.
He lit a signal of red and green fire and waved it high in the air, still seated on his wagon. Someone on the barrier returned the signal, and as the group neared their homes, the church bells clanged loudly through the cold night. He’d never had such a reception before, but then again he’d never had such troubles with outcasts on the road before either. They should’ve returned a week ago, and he hated knowing the whole settlement had likely been worried sick.
The wagons entered the crowded streets and veered off toward different houses and groups of people. Daman drove straight for the Clayton’s house, where he spotted Shana waiting anxiously on the porch steps beside Charles and Beth. Shana squealed and ran toward the wagon, and Daman caught her in his arms as he stepped down. Sobs racked her body and she clung to him so tightly it was difficult to breath. He hugged her back, murmuring loving phrases into her ear and thanking God the woman he loved more than life itself was safe in his arms.
He felt Charles pat him on the back and heard the wagon take off moments later. Beth lingered on the porch, hugging a shawl around her shoulders and smiling. The church bells kept clanging and the whole settlement was awake and wild in the streets, despite the late hour. The loud noises faded and there was only Shana, all tears and lavender soap and soft skin. He leaned back to kiss the moisture from her face, tasting her salty tears.
“Are you all right?” she asked, her voice hoarse and breathless.
“Yes, we all came back in one piece,” he replied, brushing hair out of her face.
“What happened, then?” Her wide eyes remained anxious, as if she expected him to disappear at any second.
“I’ll tell you about it later. Let’s go home.”
They passed Charles on the short walk home and Daman thanked him for unhitching the horses and taking care to put the wagon under an overhang behind the workshop. The supplies could be unpacked tomorrow morning. Right now there was only one thing Daman wished to do.
Minutes later found him naked in bed next to an equally naked Shana. The skin to skin contact soothed his soul. As the church bells continued to clang outside, he told her about the outcasts shooting the horses for meat and how losing so many horses slowed the wagons down, making travel particularly difficult in the
snow.
Her forehead crinkled prettily and she sighed. “That’s never happened before, has it?”
He frowned. “No it hasn’t. They have guns now.” He paused, guessing the next question she would ask – the same question that had persisted in his mind for over a week now. “We won’t be able to travel that road for quite some time. That means we’ll need to travel with less and take another route, perhaps to one of the southern trading posts. Trade changes as circumstances change. It’s nothing to worry about, my sweet.”
The concern disappeared from her eyes and she melted against him under the covers as the tension left her limbs. “I’m so happy you’re home. I’ve missed you, Uncle Daman.” She grinned and draped a leg over his body, pressing her wet pussy against his thigh.
Daman met her gaze and arched an eyebrow. “I trust you behaved yourself these past three weeks?”
The light in her eyes dimmed and she stared at his chest. “Beth tried to convince me to visit the gypsy village with her and Margery, and a few other girls as well.”
He sat up and pulled her into his lap, cradling her like a child. “Tried to convince you?”
“At first I told Beth and Margery I would think about it, but I was lying to them.” She gave him a hesitant look, as if judging his reaction. “I had no intention of joining them, and I tried to talk Beth out of going. Mr. Clayton overheard Beth talking to me about it and he put a stop to the whole thing.”
The flickering candlelight spread an intermittent orange glow across her face, and Daman studied her for a long minute. He believed her every word, and he appreciated her honesty. Better to find out about this incident from her than from Charles. One part of her story bothered him though.
“If Beth and the rest of the girls hadn’t been found out, would you have gone to Charles before they left?”
Shana took a deep breath and continued to gaze into his eyes, not blinking. “I don’t know what I would have done. I was waiting until the last minute to make that decision.” Her face reddened. “I was happy Mr. Clayton overheard Beth talking, even though he punished her.”
“As he should.”
“I – I’m so confused.” Nervousness crept back into Shana’s eyes.
“Why are you confused?”
She looked thoughtful as she glanced around their bedroom. “I keep thinking about what might’ve happened if Mr. Clayton hadn’t caught Beth. I can’t swear I would’ve tattled on Beth and the other girls.”
Guilty. Shana felt guilty. Daman leaned down and kissed her forehead to assuage her worries. It pleased him that she had such a healthy conscience, but he didn’t want her to suffer needlessly from internalizing all the what-ifs concerning Beth and the other girls’ plan to visit the gypsies. Over his knee, he would wipe away every last twinge of her guilt.
“I’m not angry with you, Shana,” he said. “This is a fuzzy situation, but I’d like to think you would’ve done the right thing and gone to Charles. Nevertheless, I won’t have you beating yourself up over it and carrying around a heavy burden of guilt. It’s not good for you. That’s why I’m going to spank you.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “I’m to be punished?”
“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not spanking you to punish you. I’m spanking you because it’ll help erase your guilt and make you feel better. Trust me, Shana, it’s for the best.”
The idea must’ve at least made some sense to her, because she nodded and said, “Yes, sir.”
“Don’t be afraid.” He shifted to the edge of the bed and guided her over his knee. Wrapping one leg around hers to prevent kicking, he gathered her wrists in one hand and pressed them against the small of her back. He didn’t always restrain her so, but she hadn’t experienced the sting of a spanking in three weeks. Her ability to keep calm and behave during a punishment would undoubtedly require a bit of practice. Shana was his woman to train, and he anticipated the next few days would be spent mostly indoors making up for lost time.
“This will still hurt, Shana,” he warned. “I’m going to make you cry.”
And he did. His hand struck her bottom cheeks repeatedly as he painted her flesh a deep red. He concentrated on the area where her thighs curved into her ass, spanking the most sensitive spot of her backside until her shoulders shuddered and a sob burst from her throat. She didn’t plead or struggle, but she did cry, and when Daman had finished blistering her bottom with a fast, hard spanking, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest.
“Do you feel better, my sweet?” he asked, smoothing his hand through her hair.
She sniffled. “Yes, thank you. I love you so much.”
The church bells finally ceased clanging, and the abrupt silence added to the serenity of the moment. An overwhelming warmth surged through Daman’s chest as he cradled Shana’s head over his heart, where he would hold her close forever.
The end.
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This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6