Zoe nodded, and then started a fresh pot of coffee. She was just happy to be off the chair.
"There are toothbrushes and fresh toothpaste, some deodorant, shampoo, stuff of that sort in that bag," Sam pointed. "I got us a few clothes too, mostly under things... I keep a few things here, but nothing that would fit you. Hope those will fit, he pointed to another bag, and then added, "They're off the rack..."
Zoe opened the bag. There were a couple of tee shirts, a sweatshirt, a couple pairs of jeans, a long dorm shirt to sleep in, some socks, panties, no bras, and a pair of shoes. She checked the sizes, and looked at him in shock. "How on earth did you know my sizes?" she asked.
"I have a knack for that sort of thing," he grinned.
"Thank you. I wear jeans most of the time, and my other shoes are for show. This is nice of you, Sam. Mind if I shower and change?" she asked.
"Our burgers are almost done," he told her. "Eat first, and afterwards, the bathroom is all yours..."
"Fine," she accepted his decision, and made herself busy putting out paper plates, pouring coffee, and opening a bag of chips to go with the burgers.
Sam purposely kept the conversation light while they ate. He didn't want to discuss anything of a more serious nature until he'd read her essay. And then they were going to deal with her behavior and put it behind them. The little lady was going to have one sore backside for a few days, but if she behaved herself, it would be the last spanking he'd give her while at the cabin. Miss Zoe might not know it yet, but he was more than a little bit attracted to her, and he wanted to see her on a social basis, and see if anything could possibly come of it. She was wealthy, he wasn't... but maybe that wouldn't matter to her?
Zoe could see that Sam didn't want to talk, and she didn't want to sit. She ate as quickly as she could without appearing rude, and then excused herself to shower and change into fresh clothing. Surely warm water would soothe her sore bottom and thighs...
Sam cleared the table and did the dishes. The water was still running in the bathroom, and he was positive that Zoe was making the most of her time in the shower. He figured she'd be out as soon as the water turned freezing cold, which it would in a matter of minutes. The hot water tank wasn't large, but she would have to learn that the hard way, he grinned. He settled himself with another mug of hot coffee, then picked up her essay and read:
Sam, I'm doing this in letter form. It will be easier to pretend I am speaking directly to you, even though I can assure you that discussing my father is not something I normally do. The man has ignored me for years, and I see absolutely no reason to make things easy for him. My reasons for faking my kidnapping are simple. My father is wealthy. He has money to spare, but he is stingy. I wanted the money for a special project I am involved in. I asked him for a donation, and he said 'no'. He said he didn't want me associating with 'those people'. I am an adult, and I will associate with whomever I please, regardless of his opinion, or perhaps in spite of it! I am not one bit sorry that I came up with this plan to take his money from him. He doesn't need it. He doesn't need anyone or anything. He is all about appearances.
My only regret is that I involved you in my scheme. I intended to give you money to pay you for your trouble, but the rest was going to my project. I had to make the kidnapping public so that my father would know that other people knew about it. Otherwise, he probably would refuse to pay the ransom. He really doesn't care about me. As long as I'm not bothering him, he could care less what I do. He doesn't know me. He looks at me and sees a daughter he can marry off to the highest bidder. He's constantly talking to me about responsibility, and that I need to take an interest in his holdings. I have no interest in his holdings. I wanted a father, not a corporate head! He wants a pawn to use to merge business holdings, not a daughter!
I'm sorry if you are shocked by this, but it is the simple truth. Again, my apologies to you for involving you in something you have no taste for. You appeared to be someone I could trust, and believe me, I was trying to be cautious.
For the second part of this essay... I assure you that I am aware of the dangers of going off in a car with someone I barely know. If I'd made a wrong choice, I could have been raped, tortured, murdered, sold into slavery, or made the victim of a true kidnapping. You may be sure that I will never do this again... even though I have proven that I am a very good judge of character. I can't imagine one other man I know being as upset with me as you are... which only proves that you are trustworthy and have integrity.
Sam reread the essay and shook his head. The man wanted a daughter, the girl wanted a father. Maybe he should take her straight home and tell the man to turn her over his own knee? He doubted it would work. Zoe was one very angry little girl, and it was going to be up to him to break through that anger and make her realize that what she'd done was not only illegal, but foolhardy and dangerous as hell. The very thought little Zoe asking one of those jerks hanging out in those clubs for help with this foolish stunt made him sick to his stomach. He was going to give her the switching of her life and she was going to start placing more value on her life, her safety, and he was going to make her aware that she mattered... Harry Rathbourne might be a wealthy man, but he sure didn't know the first thing about his daughter and how unloved she felt! She'd wanted his love, and he'd bought her things. He'd bet everything he owned the man didn't know she loved to cook soup or bake cookies. Or that she preferred jeans... Sam wasn't a stupid man; he'd seen the pleased look on her face when she was holding her new clothes. Zoe didn't care where he'd bought them, just that he'd managed to get her size and they were jeans...
She picked that moment to come out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her hair, and carrying her hair brush in one hand. "These fit perfectly, Sam, thank you," she smiled. She wasn't about to admit that the panties and jeans didn't feel especially good on her spanked bottom, but she was relieved to have something clean and comfortable to wear. She'd tossed the shoes, short skirt, and the top into the trash, and didn't care if she never saw them again.
"You look real pretty, Zoe," Sam said truthfully. "You don't need all that junk on your face to be beautiful," he insisted.
"I don't wear much make-up normally," she said, wondering if he would believe her. "What you see right now is the real me," she told him.
"I like the real you just fine," Sam looked her up and down. "I read your essay while you were in the shower. It was short and to the point. I do have a couple questions."
"I'm not sure they're questions I want to answer, but you can ask them," she answered, toweling her hair briskly.
He waited until she was done and he could see her face, "What on earth made you think it was okay to extort money from your father? Do you realize that is a crime, and that if your father hadn't heard from us immediately, you could be facing serious charges... even prison?"
"It's going to be my money someday," she shrugged. "I wanted to use some of it for something worthwhile... besides, Father would pay the money and do whatever he had to keep my name out of the press and embarrassing him."
"You didn't hear how frantic he was when he called me, Zoe," Sam told her.
"For show," she said.
"Zoe, give me a bit more credit than that, please. Your father was scared; he's still shaking and upset today."
"How do you know that?" she demanded.
"I called him when I went to town. He's hurt, upset, a bit angry, and can't believe you would do something like this."
"Well, isn't that too bad? I can't believe he hired you to follow me around!"
"You can be thankful he did."
"Thankful that you've spanked me like a child! Thankful that you made me soap my mouth?" she argued.
"Thankful that all you're going to get out of this stunt is a sore butt and dented pride," he scolded. "And, trust me, little girl, you are going to get a thorough switching. It's time to go outside and cut a few nice ones, and then you can peel them and get them ready. By the time this whipping is over, you'll
have a much better understanding that what you did was not only stupid and foolish, and unsafe, it was also illegal. You earned a punishment, Zoe, and we're going to deal with it here and now. You won't enjoy it, but by the time it's over, you won't ever think of doing something so foolish again. I give you my word on that."
"I've already promised you I won't ever do it again, Sam. Please... please don't switch me on top of what you've already done. I'm so sore, and sitting there for two hours while you went to town was pure torture."
"You earned those other spankings, Zoe, and it's no one's fault but your own that you are so sore. You are a sweet, lovely young woman when you want to be, but no one has ever held you accountable for your actions. I care about you and I refuse to make that same mistake. I care enough to hold you accountable. I care enough to spank you when you need a spanking. I care enough to soap your mouth when you curse. I care enough to make sure you don't risk your life by jumping into a car with a man you barely know. I care enough to switch you raw when you fake a kidnapping. No matter how much you beg or plead or try to argue your way out of it, you, little girl, are going to cut and peel four switches, and I'm going to wear them out on your bare backside."
"Why, Sam? Why do you care?"
"Maybe because I see something in spoiled little Zoe Rathbourne worth saving," he told her. He reached into his pocket and took out his knife. "Be careful with this, it's sharp." He handed it to her, then walked over and opened the cabin door. "It's time for a reckoning you won't forget for the rest of your life, young lady."
Chapter Four
Zoe couldn't believe it when Sam opened the door and motioned for her to walk outside. She didn't want any part of what was going to happen. She was even more surprised when he took her hand, and walked with her toward a tree. He explained that the branches on this particular tree didn't make good switches, and why. She paled. He took her to another tree, and said those would do. He told her to pick one, and when she picked a tiny one, he shook his head 'no'. "That one would break after one good lick. You're being punished, Zoe. Pick one that is as thick as your middle finger at the base. It will sting like fire, and it won't break right away."
Zoe found one that was the right size, and he showed her where to cut it. He wanted it long enough, but not so long it would whip around her body. Zoe cut three more just like it. They walked back to the cabin, and Sam showed her how to strip the leaves and peel the bark. She had to stand right there and prepare all four switches, knowing he was going to use them on her. Her hands were shaking, and she was afraid she was going to cut herself. She really didn't want a switching, but knew that nothing she could say was going to make any difference to the man standing over her so solemnly. His expression was firm, even grim, and she could see the task was distasteful to him. She couldn't resist asking, "You obviously don't want to do this, Sam... so why are you?"
"Because you're worth it, Zoe," was his answer. He held out his hand and took the last of the switches and his knife. The knife went in his pocket. "My Gramma always gave a switching outside under the tree, but I suspect right here will do. I want you to drop your jeans and panties down to your ankles, Zoe."
"Not outside, Sam! Please, not outside!" she begged.
"There is no one around to see you but me, Zoe, and arguing with me will earn extras, something you really want to avoid because this licking is going to be enough in itself, and you don't want to pile more on top of what you already have coming. Down with the jeans and panties right now," he said quietly.
Zoe wanted to run. She was embarrassed, and positive that Sam was going to kill her. The switches were going to hurt, he'd promised her that, and she was scared. One look at his eyes had her taking down her jeans and the panties with them. There was no point in trying to be modest. It was too late for that. Besides, Sam had already seen everything there was to see.
Sam motioned to the low bench beside the cabin. "Bend over and put your hands flat on the bench, Zoe. Keep them right there, and don't get up. If you do, I'll have to add extras."
She heard the switch whistle, and then a fiery line spread across her cheeks. "Yeeeouch!" she yelled. The second stripe fell below the first, and Zoe was positive nothing had ever hurt so much in her entire lifetime. "No, Sam! NO!" He struck her a third time, and she screeched. The switch was leaving burning welts, and it was so different from his hand. It was much, much worse.
"This is what happens when you do foolish things to risk your life," Sam scolded, switching her again and again. He started on her thighs, and she danced in place, but she stayed down.
"Please, Sam! I'm sorry! I won't do it again!" she promised through her tears. It was as though he didn't hear her. He striped one leg, and then the other, and she wanted to die when he switched her behind her knees and down her calves. She started sobbing. "I can't do this any more!" she sobbed. "Please, Sam. Enough... Enough!"
"That was just the first switch, Zoe. I told you this would be a severe switching, and I meant it. You will not get off lightly this time. What you did was foolish in the extreme, and I'll punish you in proportion to what you did. You could have been raped!" He found her sensitive sit spot, and raised welts there next.
The pain was terrible. Her whole backside was on fire. The stripes burned like fire, and she was positive she couldn't take any more. "Please, I'll do anything if you'll stop. Anything!"
"You will stay right where you are and take your whipping, little girl. You'll know that no matter how much this hurts, it's still less painful that being tortured, raped, murdered. Do you understand how foolish you were?" he scolded.
"Yes... I'm sorry!" she blubbered. "Oh, Sam... I beg you, stop! Stop. I'm sorry... So sorry!" The stripes continued to fall on her unprotected skin, and Zoe was sure she was losing every bit of skin from her ass.
"That was the end of switch number two," Sam announced, feeling sorry for the young woman. Her bottom was striped, and so were her thighs. "This switch will be for scaring your father half to death. He saw her stiffen, and he knew she wasn't pleased. "He should be doing this himself, but since he isn't here, I'm going to take care of it for him. Whether you want to believe it or not, young lady, your actions affect other people... People who love you and care what happens to you. I've spent enough time with your father to know he does love you, and he does care. He somehow hasn't managed to convey that to you, but I can assure you that is about to change in the near future.
Each new bite of the third switch was agony, and as much as Zoe wanted to block her mind and pretend it wasn't happening to her, it was impossible. Sam was determined to give her a lesson she wouldn't forget, and he was succeeding. She begged for mercy, but Sam continued striping her, scolding her repeatedly, and forcing her to keep her mind on the punishment.
Sam dropped the third switch on the ground, perfectly satisfied that he could tell Harry Rathbourne that his daughter was thoroughly punished for the scare she'd given her father. Sam didn't think she could take much more, and he had to admit she'd managed somehow to stay in place. The final switch was going to raise welts on top of welts, and it couldn't be avoided. It would be a test of her endurance. "You've done well so far, Zoe, and it's time for the last switch. If you stay in place for ten more, I'll stop and you'll be paid in full. Can you take ten more?" he asked in a voice meant to encourage her.
"Yes, sir," Zoe managed to whisper. She hurt more than she ever thought possible. Surely she could take ten more to end this.
Sam was careful. He applied the switch with precision, doing his best not to cut her, but to leave a lasting impression she would feel for days. Her thighs were not spared, nor her calves. But he reserved the last two for her sensitive sit spot, and delivered them rapidly, not at all surprised when she screamed.
He threw the last switch down, helped her up and held her close to offer comfort. "It's all over now, baby. It's all over. You were a good girl, and it's all forgiven now." He let her cry against him; she was shaking and he knew he'd pushed her well beyond
her limit of endurance. It was a lesson he hoped he never needed repeating.
Once she calmed a bit, he instructed her to pull up her clothing. It wouldn't feel good, but life went on, and she would have to live with the results. It's what made a switching so effective. She would burn, then the itching would start, and she would be hard pressed to keep from rubbing, but he wasn't about to let her relieve herself in that manner.
Zoe winced as she pulled the panties over her inflamed bottom, and the thought of tugging up the jeans was nearly unbearable. "Do I have to, Sam? Could I please change into the dorm shirt you bought me?" she asked.
"Nope. That's for sleeping. Pull up your jeans, babe, and we'll go inside and bake some cookies while we decide what to fix for dinner. Best thing right now is for you to keep your hands busy so I won't have to spank you again for rubbing."
"Oh, Sam! You wouldn't!" she gasped.
"I wouldn't want to, but I will if I catch you rubbing your backside at all. That switching stays with you until it goes away on its own. Understood?" he demanded.
"Yes, sir," she replied meekly. The last thing she wanted was another punishment of any kind. She managed to get the jeans up over her legs and butt and was shocked that she was still trembling. "I'm not feeling too well," she confessed.
"I know, Zoe. Come on inside now, and I'll take care of you."
He led her into the small living room of the cabin and she was surprised to see that it was neat and clean, and well-cared for. There was an old wooden rocker in the corner by the fireplace, and he took a seat, and then gently helped her to sit on his lap. He rested her head on his shoulder and just rocked her. Zoe felt safe and protected, and was surprised that she felt no anger whatsoever toward the handsome man. She'd deserved the switching, and now that it was over, it was easier to admit. She felt herself calm, and smiled when she heard him humming. He had a good voice, and within minutes she fell asleep.
Protecting Zoe Page 4