by Reece Butler
“But we’re old enough to take over the ranch now. Dad and Pops will do everything they can to give this gift to her. Once they made up their minds it was going to happen, they found reasons why they would enjoy it, as well. So Dad and Pops read about the history of the area. They liked The Lymond Chronicles, a series of six books set in Europe in the sixteenth century. They’ll take Mom to the markets and tour with her, while seeing the land written about in the book.”
“Did you read the books, too?”
“His expression went from serious to sensuous in a heartbeat. “One of my favorite parts takes place in the seraglio of Suleiman the Magnificent.”
“Seraglio?”
Sometimes when Travis smiled he reminded her of a wolf. This was one of those times.
“Harem,” he said with far too much satisfaction. “I think you should read that one. Very carefully.”
She shifted and the plug in her hind end suddenly reminded her of its presence. Having Travis hold her with that “you’re next” type of smile, had her temperature flaming. She’d had enough of friendly cuddles. She pushed his arms away. Travis reluctantly released her, muttering something that sounded a lot like “spoilsport.” She sat beside him, leaving a few inches between their thighs, and returned to the main topic.
“I can’t believe your mom goes along with everything your dad says.”
“In public, no matter what a cowboy may think, he always supports the ranch boss. In the case of the J Bar C, that’s my dad. If he and Mom, or Pops, have a disagreement, they keep it behind closed doors.”
“So they do have arguments, just not in public,” she said.
“Exactly. They go upstairs and talk it out.” The corners of his eyes turned up in amusement, making her squirm again. “I should say they work it out. When they’re finished, they come back downstairs.”
He chuckled, but she wasn’t sure why. His fingers caressed her neck and she sighed, fighting not to sink sideways into him.
“No one disagreed with Bertie,” she said. “He was the police, judge, jury, and executioner. I hated it.”
Travis moved closer and put his arm around her shoulders. She felt his strength, and knew he really would do whatever he could to keep her safe. He and his brother were very demanding men. When they stood tall and got that look in their eye, the one that made her think of sheiks and concubines, she got all wet and eager. Was it that way with the other ranchers’ wives? Is that why they put up with obeying orders?
She hadn’t wanted to obey Bertie’s orders. She’d chosen to survive and, therefore, did whatever was necessary. It would be entirely different with these ranchers. They worked together for a common goal.
“As I said, your life with that piece of garbage was a whole different thing, Jane."
“Never again,” she replied with a shudder.
“I know what you require, Jane, and that’s a caring Dom.”
“That sounds kinky,” she replied, screwing up her face.
He barked a laugh. “Most things that are both fun and worth doing are kinky. Your father believes he has the right to control your life.”
She nodded. “He believes I’m his property.”
“A Dom provides guidance and structure. Some, like the ones in Climax, also guide, nurture, and pamper their woman. You’ve never had a chance to be a child. You need guidance to learn your way in the world.”
“I want my freedom, and to make my own decisions.”
“Exactly,” he said. “And to be truly free, you need to be whole. Right now you’re a scared little girl in the body of a woman who’s lost connection to the world she knew. You’re quickly learning, but it will take time. I want to help you, Jane. I want to hold the woman who never knew the safety of a daddy’s lap. The little girl who never got a cuddle when she was scared.”
A lump began to form in her throat as he spoke. He patted his thigh, inviting her rather than picking her up and carrying her. She settled in his lap, his arms around her in a cage. Not to lock her in, but to keep her safe.
“Inside you is a little girl who knew her daddy would not protect her,” he murmured. “You felt all alone. After all, if your own daddy wouldn’t protect you, who would?”
She nodded, her chin trembling.
“You believed, right to your soul, that you were not worthy. You survived by holding everything behind protective walls.”
“Yes,” she whispered hoarsely. “But it wasn’t just that he didn’t protect me. He used me!”
“He was, and is, a narcissistic domestic abuser, caring nothing for anyone but himself. His abuse created great holes in you. You need to fill those spaces. I can help you do that.”
Travis kissed her forehead, gently brushing his lips over her skin. He held her as she began to tremble. She’d known it before, but feeling safe enough to believe it, was something new. She wanted to be a confident, strong woman but Travis was right. A part of her was missing, the part that could trust and love. She couldn’t bring herself to ask for help unless the situation was dire. She was learning to accept comfort, but it would take time. She wouldn’t have that time if she left Travis and Riley.
How dare Bertram Stark do this to her! She had to expunge everything to do with him in order to be free. Would she then be able to love, and be loved? A tear leaked out. Travis caught it on his finger, and sucked it into his mouth. Watching his tongue, knowing what it could do to her, brought a different kind of shiver.
“Jane, inside you is an inquisitive, mischievous brat who was too afraid to put a toe out of line.”
She blinked at the juxtaposition of arousal and light chastisement.
“A brat? I’ve always tried to be a good girl…”
His knowing smile had a sensual edge that stopped her words. A familiar bulge formed under her thighs as his cock swelled. Her breath caught. Travis was leading up to something, but she wasn’t sure what. Tension, the good, sexual type, caused her arousal to increase.
“A brat, Jane. The part of you that wanted to stir things up, but never had the chance. She’s eager to be naughty, so Jane can be punished.”
She shook her head. “That’s not me. I don’t like to be punished, and I don’t act like a brat.”
“No? What about the time you and Riley were drying dishes, and you snapped your dishtowel at him?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Riley splashed me and laughed,” said Jane indignantly. “You guys said you did it all the time when you were kids. I was surprised when it made a loud popping sound.” She’d meant to hit his jeans pocket, but he’d turned. “And it hit his hip, not…you know. He called me a brat for doing it, but it wasn’t on purpose.”
“Uh, huh. And what did my big brother do to you?”
Heat rushed over her chest and up her face. Riley had caught her, turned her over his hip somehow, and spanked her through her skirt. She’d fought him, squealing even though she loved what he was doing. She’d thought Travis was upstairs at the time. Thinking he might come down and join in had made her pussy roar as she fought Riley off. She managed to get free, raced to her room, and locked the door. A part of her hoped he’d break it down and have his wicked way with her.
She couldn’t tell Travis that. She could barely admit it to herself. She pressed her lips tight. He raised an eyebrow, demanding she reply. She stubbornly shook her head.
“Riley spanked you,” said Travis with satisfaction. “Then he let you escape. But he said next time he’d yank down your panties, haul you over his lap, pull up your skirt, and spank you properly, didn’t he?”
Heat, from arousal more than remembered embarrassment or pain, had her panting. She still refused to answer, though she couldn’t say why. She remembered her shock at his action. How he’d moved so fast she wasn’t sure what was happening. She’d fought, squealing when his hand hit her bottom. Yes, she’d squealed and cried, but she’d felt so alive!
“Next time you act like a brat you’ll be bent over, your legs spread, and
your sopping pussy filled with a hard cock. That will make you come, hard. Won’t it?”
She’d fingered herself that night and came so hard she almost cried out. She wouldn’t tell him that, either. If he knew how much she wanted it, yet was afraid of having it happen…
“I’m not a brat,” she replied, sticking her jaw out. She shifted, wanting to stand, but Travis held onto her.
“No?”
“No!” She tried to get up, but he held her tight. “Let me go!”
She elbowed him in the gut, scrambling to escape. She was excited at his hold on her, yet she needed to prove that she could…what? Push his buttons and make him angry so he would spank her and then fill her already wet pussy?
“Jane,” he scolded. “Calm down.”
“You’re not the boss of me!” She fought to get free.
“I’ve watched you carefully, Jane. I know you want this.”
“No!” she yelled.
She vaguely heard a door opening, then shutting quickly, before a second pair of hands grabbed her. Riley took her legs. She went wild, kicking and fighting. She knew what was going on, and that she was safe.
She didn’t want to escape, she wanted to fight. She wanted to use her muscles against someone she could attack, and not harm. She wanted to push, to discover where her limits were, and then push against them. She needed to be touched, and cared for, to feel totally, one hundred percent alive.
She wanted to matter.
“If you want us to stop, say red,” said Travis. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said, still struggling.
“Janey’s gonna get a spanking,” said Riley in a singsong voice.
“No!”
“Yes,” he replied with enthusiasm.
They carried her, twisting and writhing, past the kitchen, to her bedroom. She stopped to breathe as they went through the doorway, then erupted again. She managed to get one foot free. She kicked out. Someone grunted, captured her foot, and the grip on her tightened.
“That’s gonna cost you,” said someone in a growl.
“No!” she yelled again, still twisting.
They swung her, counting to three, then let go. She landed on the bed and rolled in a tangle of limbs and bedcovers, ending up facedown. She tried to get free but was half under the covers. She hadn’t made her bed when she woke from a nap, and would now pay the price.
She scuttled to escape but someone spread his body over her, using his full weight to hold her down. Just his weight. His arms and legs he kept free. Free to run over her body.
“What color, Jane?” asked the man beside her head.
“Green!” she yelled. “Get off me, you ox!”
“Can she breathe?”
“You heard her, Trav, she’s fine.”
A pair of hands gently tugged her hair free, gathering it at her nape. She was tiring, but would not give up. It felt marvelous to fight back!
Riley shifted his weight, pulling her to one side. It freed her knee, giving her leverage. She pushed up. The gentle hand turned into a fist and tugged her hair. She shook her head, trying to get free. The fist yanked, pulling her head back. She raised her head, teeth ready to bite.
Amused brown eyes under blond hair snickered at her. “Having a spot of difficulty, are we, brat?”
Riley, the bastard, tugged again, sharper this time. Hundreds of individual strands pulled together didn’t hurt much. But the ones near her forehead, perhaps because they were farther from his fist, hurt like the dickens.
“You toad!”
“Tsk, tsk, Janey. Your bottom will be toasty warm in a bit.”
“Arrghh!”
The animalistic sound came from somewhere deep inside her. Riley released her hair. She turned her head, found his hand, and bit down. She did it hard enough to hurt, but not harm.
“Ow!”
“What?” demanded Travis.
“She bit me!”
She paused to catch her breath and to see their reactions.
“What did you expect of a naughty little girl? Obedience?”
Silence. The men shared a look. Dread gathered in the pit of her belly.
“You’re right,” said Riley. His eyes were no longer wide with surprise, but narrowed with speculation. “This gal of ours wouldn’t know how to be obedient if she tried.”
“She will when we’re finished with her. Ready?”
“Yep.”
She yelped, struggling but, one by one, her hands and feet were pulled free, and a cuff attached. Her wrists were then snapped to each other, as were her ankles. Trussed like this, she could do little more than wriggle, but it didn’t stop her from trying to escape.
“Pull out the chains,” ordered Travis.
Chains?
Travis held one firm palm on her lower back. The day was warm, and she’d put on a loose cotton skirt after her nap. The waistband was elasticized, one size fits most. They’d hidden her bras, so she had nothing on under her Barbie T-shirt.
She had a good view of Riley as he reached under her mattress. He grinned, seeing her watching, and pulled out a large ring. It rattled against the wood bed-frame. No, it wasn’t the ring that rattled, it was the chain hooked somewhere underneath. He clipped her right wrist to it, then went over the bed to her left. This time his grin was pure evil. He tugged on the ring to get enough slack to attach her left wrist.
Once she had her hands spread wide over her head it took little effort to do the same to her feet. She could pull her arms down, but her fists didn’t quite reach her shoulders. Likewise, she could draw her knees up a few inches, but not quite enough to get leverage. Her squirming to get loose made the jumble of bedclothes under her even more uncomfortable.
“Strip the bed,” said Travis.
He lifted her as Riley pulled the sheets and covers away. Being directly on the bed gave her a bit more leeway. She did her best, straining against the impossible. She could pull her ankles up enough to bend her knees, but not enough to roll over. The same with her arms.
“And now we strip the brat,” said Riley.
“No!”
“This shirt is ready for the rag bin,” he said, ignoring her.
He went to the dresser and picked up a pair of scissors. He snipped them a few times menacingly in the air, waggling his eyebrows. She tried to turn to follow his movements, but Travis had his hand on her back again. She heard a snip. The scissors were tossed on the bed just beyond her reach. Riley grabbed her shirt in both hands and yanked. Cool air flowed up her now-naked back.
“You ratfink, you ripped my Barbie shirt!”
“Watch your language,” warned Travis.
“Aw, Janey,” crooned Riley, trailing his fingers up her back, “you can still wear it.”
“It’s ruined!”
“Nah, it’s even better.” He brought his face close to hers. “You’re going to wear that shirt for me, Janey. Only, the logo is going on the back.”
“But, it’s ripped!”
“Exactly,” Riley replied with immense satisfaction. “The rip goes to the front. That means I get to watch your beauties bouncing as you work.”
He trailed his fingers along her skin, rolling the fabric away from her ribs to expose her back. He nodded in satisfaction, then shifted his attention to her legs. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs. He knelt, knees either side of her back, facing her feet. He grabbed a handful of material in each hand and tugged her skirt to her waist.
She tightened her cheeks, hoping they didn’t notice what was between them.
“Now that is a prime ass,” said Riley in satisfaction. She liked the way he said it, almost in awe. “Gosh, darn, Trav. Janey’s panties are in our way,” he continued. “Since her legs are spread and tied down already, I guess I have to cut them off.”
“No, I only have four pair!” she shrieked.
“That’s three too many,” he replied, and reached for the scissors.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Riley snipped t
he scissors again to make a loud noise. Jane gasped, so he added an evil laugh. Travis gathered her hair and pulled it off her face. She’d twisted around so much she’d made a mess of it.
He put his hand between Jane’s hip and white cotton to protect her from the scissors. A snip each side and he pulled the remains of her panties from between her legs. A pink silicone eye looked back at him. He blinked, then a laugh burst out.
“Looky-looky, Trav. Janey’s wearing a butt plug!”
“What?”
“Looks like someone’s asking for a cock in her ass tonight.” Riley tugged gently at the plug. Jane moaned.
“That what you want, Jane?” asked Travis. They waited, but she kept her lips, and eyes, pressed shut. “It’s got to come out before I spank you.”
“Guess we could put in the new one after,” suggested Riley. “It’s even bigger.”
“What!”
Jane had a good blush and her eyes were dilated. That meant full speed ahead in his book. He had washed the new plug earlier, just in case. He got it from their bathroom, along with the thick lube, condoms, massage oil, and an old towel. They loosened the chains, then the towel went under her hips. There was no doubt Jane wanted this, as she helped lift herself so he could slip the towel under.
Travis balanced on the bed to help her to her knees. Then he played with her pussy as he eased the plug from her ass. She must have had it in for a while as her hole didn’t quite close. The swollen pink ring made Riley’s cock ache to fill it. Travis set the plug aside.
She squawked, startled, at the first spank. Travis admired his handprint as he settled behind her. He took his time, letting each pink up before adding another. Riley covered the new blue plug with a condom after Trav had finished five spanks per cheek. His little brother’s eyes were shining when he reached out his hand.
The way Jane’s skirt bunched at her waist was far more erotic than if she’d been naked. Seeing the dark cleft between her cheeks was an invitation to paradise. He could wait. Jane had to be ready, and willing. So he lay beside her and reached for her breast. Her lips and tongue eagerly responded to his nibbles and kisses. He played with her nipples, making her gasp jerk against the leather restraints when he pinched. Travis worked the bigger plug into her ass with one hand, playing with her pussy with the other. Her eager moans had Riley’s cock dripping all over the damn place.