by Megan McCoy
Heading toward home, she reflected, the entire purpose of getting a spanking was thinking about why you deserved this. Holly, her brother’s wife, got spanked, she knew. Holly said while some of them were what she considered excessive in the moment, she actually craved them and if Eric didn’t deliver, she felt out of sorts and unloved. Liz tried not to judge, but that was just weird. She didn’t want to get spanked. Period.
But, Matt was going to be a spanking husband and she was walking in with her eyes open. She did like the part where they had amazing hot sex after, and the fact that he was so calm and attentive to her afterwards. That was good, and they’d had a great night last night, well, at least after he’d taken her to the barn, and grabbed some kind of leather thing. He’d propped his leg up on a hay bale in the tack room—she wondered if it was there solely for that purpose—and told her to drop her jeans, then pulled her over his knee and whaled on her till she thought her butt would be swollen and sore forever. He told her he was tired of her stress and nonsense. Okay, she’d been snippy and maybe she’d deserved that. She couldn’t believe how fast she got her tight jeans back up when they heard someone coming in the barn though. Of course, it had to be Cole. The cousin/brother of Matt. Apparently, Jeb had all but adopted him after his dad died, when he was a tween/teen but then his mom had gotten out of jail, and gotten custody of him again and took off. Then he joined the Navy. He’d shown up here again and Matt and Jeb were still so happy they could barely stand it, to have him back. She couldn’t believe Matt had never mentioned him before, and while she was curious about him, last night was not the time to talk to him.
Ben had spent the night with a friend in town, and after her belt walloping in the stable, they’d had the house to themselves and took happy advantage of it, being as noisy as they wanted to be. She’d felt better and less stressed, and Matt seemed to be pleased with her.
However, this morning, while she woke up smiling, it didn’t last long. She’d showered and gotten dressed and headed to the kitchen for coffee and to make Matt some eggs and sausage before they both went to work. Planning to have toast and coffee, she felt dismayed when he dished her up a few bites of the eggs and sausage, too.
“You know I’m not hungry in the morning,” she complained, but taking the plate.
“I know, but you need to eat something. You didn’t get much sleep last night, and you are welcome for that,” he’d given her than handsome Lyon smile she adored so much. “And you have a long day. Eat.”
So, she ate. There was something wrong about eating when you weren’t hungry, though, and after he’d scraped both their plates and put them in the dishwasher, her stomach churned. Why was he picking up the wooden spoon? Oh, hell no. All she had on was her panties and a long t-shirt she’d slipped on after her shower. Neither were protection enough from that nasty thing.
“Matt! No, please,” she begged, tears springing to her eyes. “I already hurt.”
“You don’t hurt, you’re just sore. You’re going to hurt in a few minutes though. I need to make sure you don’t forget the point I made last night.”
Liz’s fingers trembled as she carefully put her coffee cup down. “I promise not to forget. I really promise. Please don’t.”
“Get your sore butt over here. There’s nothing you can say to talk me out of this. I know what you need,” Pushing his chair back, he pointed to his lap. Great, she wasn’t even going to get the slight comfort of having her body rest on the couch or the bed. No, she’d be dangling over his lap, ass up where that wooden spoon could do it's worse. “Let’s get it over with.”
Reluctantly, she pushed her chair back, letting the tears fall. Maybe he’d see them and go easy on her? Did he even know the meaning of go easy on her?
“I don’t want another spanking,” she whimpered as pitifully as she could, but stood up.
“Don’t imagine you do. I don’t want to spend another week listening to you complain and carry on, and be so tired you can’t stand yourself. I have a solution for that, and it's going to happen. Now, get over here. You don’t want to be late for work on the day you tell your boss you aren't working overtime anymore.”
She didn’t want to be late for work, but she didn’t want that wooden spoon either. Her traitorous feet took a step toward him. “Please, not the spoon,” she begged. She hated the spoon. Even more than the belt.
“But it makes such a good impression,” he said. “Ass here, now!”
Taking a few hitching breaths, she felt as if her knees would give way, but took another step toward him. She wasn’t going to disobey that tone. That one step made her close enough apparently, and he grabbed her arm and hauled her over his lap, face down, bottom up. Cool air reached her parts as he pulled down her panties. He never spanked over clothes, she didn’t know why, but knew being bare and exposed ramped up her mortification over the entire process.
“See, not even one bruise,” he told her as her hands scrambled to find a way to hold herself up. She didn’t want to see and she didn’t want a spanking.
But as the first smack landed on her still sore bottom, she knew it was coming and screeched. “Ow!”
“Yeah, that’s what I want to hear,” he said, and began a steady rhythm of pain that made her begin wriggling and begging and trying to roll off his lap. It wasn’t his first rodeo and he stopped her as she knew he would. Damn a cowboy’s strength. He couldn’t stop her from kicking her feet or throwing one arm back to try to grab the spoon or cover her bottom. Neither seemed to bother him any though, or slow down the steady staccato on her poor abused rear end.
“Please, not there,” she begged trying to twist and wiggled as hard as she could as he seemed to concentrate on tender part where her thighs met her bottom. He knew it hurt worse there. Desperately, she tried to inch down, to at least get the spoon higher.
“No more, please, I’m done,” she sobbed. What were those magic words that would make this stop? She was going to try them all. “Ow! Please! I’ll be good! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I can’t, no more!” She didn’t think she could breathe, she sobbed so hard. If she’d thought he was going to go easy on her because he’d just spanked her last night, she’d been wrong. Of course.
“No more!” she choked out, and then the words failed her and all she could do was sob.
Finally, he was done but didn’t let her up and didn’t rub her burning bottom as he sometimes did. Instead, he waited till she’d calmed down a little, then brought down the spoon again, making her yell in pain and surprise. She wanted up and off his lap. Not spanked anymore.
“I’m not going to spend the next month listening to you go off the wall. Do you want one of these every day? Do you?” He brought the spoon down twice more.
“No, sir!” she cried. “Please no more.”
“Good. I don’t mind doing it,” he smacked her again, making her cry out again. “But I don’t think you care for it much. Next time you get stressed out, you come to me. Don’t start getting yourself all worked up again, or so help me this is going to seem like a walk in the park.” With that, he smacked her four more times while she writhed and shrieked, and then let her up to rub her bottom.
Weird, all she wanted was for him to hold her. The mean man who lit the fire in her butt. So, she inched closer to him, and then stepped in close and started sobbing on his shoulder, sniffling as pitifully as she could.
“I don’t want that anymore,” she cried into his chest. “It hurts.”
“It's supposed to hurt. If it didn’t hurt, it wouldn’t work. You know how to not get one, too. Tell me how.” His tone was still stern but softening and his hands were rubbing her still bare bottom.
“Tell you how what?” she wailed. She didn’t want to talk. She just wanted to hear he wasn’t going to do that again. She wiggled her butt into his hands and felt him rise against her body. All right now.
But he didn’t move and said, “How to not get a spanking.”
“Be good?” she sniffled.
“Close enough,” he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. “I’m not wasting good bottom heat.”
Burying her head in his shoulder Liz fought back a grin. Other than the soreness in her muscles, it was amazing how fast the burn of a spanking faded, leaving only a hot bottom that he loved to take advantage of. She didn’t mind that one little bit.
Shaking herself from the memory, she pulled into Rose’s Ranch. She still loved arriving here, couldn’t believe this would be her home forever. She’d always wanted a place of her own, her own home. After her husband had passed away, she had bounced from house to apartment to house again. This was the first place that felt like home. She had a man she loved, a job she enjoyed, her kid was happy, and she had family surrounding her. This life was her dream come true.
Right now, she planned to run by the mess hall, meet the new cook and see if she could take some of Jenn’s fabulous dinner rolls home for her guys tonight. She could pop a can of dough, but why should she when there were hot, fragrant, freshly made rolls right down the street for the taking.
Besides, she was curious about Mariah’s replacement. She’d heard she was a redhead with a temper. She didn’t know if that was true or not, but it never hurt to get in on the good side of the cook. She was an okay cook, but they ate at the mess hall several times a week. Matt said it was part of their job as owners to mingle with the guests. A little shyer than the rest of family, it was harder for her, but she did her best, and found the more she did it, the easier it got.
Sometimes though, it was nice to swing by and grab some of what was for dinner to bring home, to eat in privacy. Although there were many responsibilities of being part of the owner’s family, there were a few perks too. Dinner was one of those perks. She had potatoes scrubbed and ready to bake at home and Matt was grilling pork chops. She’d make a quick salad and they would have a lovely family dinner. Ben would be home, so unless Matt dragged her back to the barn, she wasn’t getting her bottom blistered again tonight. Whew. She’d had plenty of that in the last twenty-four hours. She didn’t want any more for a long time.
Trying not to wince or act as if she were sore, she wandered into the mess hall. It was mostly quiet in here. Checking her cell phone, she saw it was only quarter to six. They wouldn’t be serving for another forty-five minutes yet. The rolls might not be done.
Strolling into the kitchen, she saw what she could only describe as chaos. While there were usually at least five people in the kitchen this time of night, there were only three. Two of the younger cooks, and the new chef. She could tell because she had the red hair.
Whirling around, the chef glared at her, and Liz took an involuntary step back. “Are you Pam?” she barked.
Liz recognized the name, one of the more established cooks. “No…” Liz squeaked out.
“Then, please leave my kitchen. I’ve got too much to do and don’t need people wandering in,” She snapped and turned to do something at the stove.
Liz stepped back again. She was not used to being yelled at. “Can I help?” She asked, bravely, she thought. She could do something. Wash dishes, peel potatoes.
“Do you have a food handler’s license?”
“No, Ma’am,” Liz stammered out.
“Then leave! Please. Just. Leave.” The new chef turned again and started barking orders at the two obviously nervous cooks, making one spill an entire pot of beans on the floor.
Liz fled out of the room and the mess hall, hearing the woman’s voice in her ears and feeling sorry for that young cook.
Who needed dinner rolls? Not her. Pillsbury made just fine pop the tube rolls. Who needed to meet the new chef? Not her! She needed to be home with her guys where she might get her ass paddled, but no one screamed at her.
She didn’t like screaming.
Cole moved from the doorway where he’d been standing for five minutes, watching Rayne have a meltdown. He’d caught the last minute of Rayne letting Liz have it. Poor Liz. First, she got a belting last night, and then screamed at today. Not a happy time for a future bride. He turned his attention to Rayne. Okay, she was two people short and she was new and stressed out. He could help with most of those things. He had to wonder if this was how she usually reacted to stress, however.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the kitchen. “What’s the issue here?”
Rayne didn’t even look up from the stove. “I’m two people short and not having a good day. Sue, do you have that cleaned up yet?”
“Working on it,” came the muffled voice of the young woman cleaning the mess of green beans.
“Throw it out. It's trash now. There goes my food cost.”
Cole grabbed an apron and asked mildly. “Where’s your help?”
“One is sick and the other had car trouble. She should be here by now, though.” Rayne said, her voice rising.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked. “You have my number.” He’d given it to her earlier and told her to text him if she had issues. Matt had needed a hand in the barn and he figured he’d be back in time for dinner prep but got caught up in what they were doing.
“I thought I could handle it,” she all but snapped.
So now he was seeing the golf club swinging redhead. About time, he tried to stifle his smile. Oh, yeah, they’d have fun after work today.
Stepping in, he took over the stove and noticed out of the corner of his eye that Taylor came rushing in, apologizing for car trouble. Rayne told her shortly not to let it happen again. Cole shook his head. Her fourth day here and she was already off the rails. Yeah. He didn’t mind this one bit.
Two hours later, when dinner service wound down, he heard the back door of the kitchen open. Matt stormed in, with steam coming out of his ears, and Cole knew why. “I’m stepping out,” he called to Taylor and headed to the back door to block him.
“Matt,” he said easily, walking forward so Matt had to back up.
“Clients left the dining room yet? I don’t want to cause a scene in front of them,” Matt growled, trying to look around him.
“I know what you are upset about, brother, I walked in on the last of it.”
Matt glared at him. “Then you know that I’m going to kick her ass. I’m not going to have anyone yelling at Liz. Especially not a cook I can replace tomorrow.”
“Matt,” Cole said calmly. “You can’t replace her tomorrow, but I can deal with it tonight, if you trust me to do it. You have my promise she will be at your house in the morning, apologizing to Liz, if you let me handle it my way. If she doesn’t, she can go.”
“You think you can do that?”
“I’m a Lyon, I think I can handle a temperamental cook. If I’m wrong, fire her in the morning and I’ll pull kitchen duty a few more weeks.” Cole took a deep breath. Had he just promised his brother more than he could deliver? He hoped not.
“Okay. I’m going home to make sure Liz is doing okay. I’ll be expecting Rayne at the house before nine.” Matt turned around and stomped off. Cole was just glad that Rayne hadn’t yelled at Candy. Jeb wouldn’t have been as easy to put off.
Back in the kitchen, he saw cleanup was getting close to finished. Pitching in, he quietly sent home the servers, and then the other cooks one at a time, giving both Sue and Taylor a hug and a quiet apology, telling them things would be better tomorrow. Walking them out, while Rayne was busily labeling and storing leftovers in the pantry fridge, he saw Candy heading down for her evening meeting with Rayne. Another person to head off, he thought.
“Candy,” he said, smiling at her. “That feels so disrespectful, after all my years in the Navy.”
“Yet it's what family calls me,” she said. “I came to talk to Rayne.”
“I know, and I’m going to ask you to skip that tonight, Ma’am,” he said.
“What? Why? What’s going on?” she asked, startled.
“We had a bit of a situation tonight, and if you trust me, I can handle it,” Cole gave her a long hard stare that she ret
urned.
“Do I need to know?”
“Not till tomorrow. Either Rayne or I will fill you in tomorrow, if that is okay with you.”
Candy nodded slowly. “I trust you and I will talk to you in the morning, but just so you know, I have to tell Jeb about this.”
“Yes, I understand that. Just tell him I have it covered.”
Candy gave him a wave and turned to go back to the Lyon’s Den, which was the office, where she and Jeb had living quarters.
Cole turned around to go back to the kitchen.
Chapter 5
Rayne suddenly heard silence in what should be her busy kitchen. Tonight had been a cluster fuck beyond reason. She’d had it with almost everyone in the kitchen. She could only hope none of the clients heard anything. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she jumped and squealed, turning quickly.
“Oh, it's you. You scared me,” she said, and turned again to put the last of the white containers in the big walk in fridge. Shivering, she tried to leave and bumped into his big hard muscled body. “Excuse me,” she said, ducking under his arm and getting out of that chilly place. She just wanted to finish up and go home. Be alone.
Walking into the kitchen, she looked around, everyone was gone, most of the chores were done. Looking at Cole, who had followed her back into the kitchen, she said, “Thank you for your help. I can finish up if you want to go.” She just wanted to be alone.
“No.”
He said it, too calmly, she thought, and shivered. “No, what?” she asked.
“We need to talk about tonight. I’m in charge of training you, and there’s a few things we need to talk about.”
He didn’t sound happy, Rayne thought. Had she messed up tonight? Well, she’d been upset earlier, but rightly so. She hated when her kitchen didn’t run smoothly.