Not for a moment had Daniel forgotten his quarrel with the girl. Although he was still uncertain how he’d get to the truth behind her obvious lies, it was not a matter that he could let slide for long. While he bit off terse replies to Abigail’s queries, Lisle remained behind him, timid and shivering. Not one of his edgy comments slipped her notice; everyone just added more fuel to the heated passion that had been building between them all day. They spoke only briefly during the trip. Daniel had been sorting things out in his mind; he supposed Lisle had, too. Though she spent much of the time staring out the window, occasionally her eyes would glance on him with a longing look. When he didn’t react to her subtle baiting she returned her gaze to the passing landscape and the deathly quiet continued.
“I’ll leave you two for now,” Abigail finally breached what had become an uncomfortable lapse in the conversation. “You’ll be by yourselves up here this weekend so there will be plenty of privacy. No one sharing the bathroom, you’ll like that. The season has pretty much ended, and quite frankly, I’m looking forward to winter just for a little peace and quiet.”
Daniel listened to her, though her words seemed to barely register. However, when she was done, he abruptly turned to his hostess. “Sorry if we’re disturbing you.”
“Oh, for crissakes, you’re not disturbing a thing, Daniel,” Abigail exclaimed. “You know you’re family and welcome here anytime.” She looked at Lisle. “And you’re welcome here, too. Just don’t let this old bastard scare you. Underneath all that’s terrifying about Daniel Broc, there really is a good man.”
“You think?” Daniel humphed. “You’re a lot more generous with me than I am. Someone should really nominate you for sainthood, Abby.” He offered up the unusually gallant remark without wavering in his surly mood, though he really did mean what he said.
Abigail laughed. “Tell that to Albert, will you? He thinks of me as the devil’s handmaiden most of the time.”
Daniel actually cracked a smile, but then, Abigail excused herself and left the room and the smile vanished.
As the door closed behind her, a gloomy, almost threatening, silence descended over the pretty room. He stared around again, unsure what he thought of the trendy décor. There were pale yellow drapes at the windows and blue floral wallpaper on the walls, traditional in style but with a 21st century chic, as if the room had been designed by a decorator—Daniel was sure it was not. A thick, down comforter in a blue and yellow print to match the walls covered the large bed, which sat like a throne in the center of the room. The top of the mattress was over three feet above the floor. “This will be like the lap of luxury for you,” he said without bothering to look at the now dazed Lisle.
While he lifted the suitcases to the bed, she strolled to the window and looked out on the October afternoon, at the long shadows and a waning sun, which had finally sunk beneath clouds on the Western horizon. She stared toward the sunset appearing more like an ethereal apparition than human. Then, suddenly, she turned, fully animated, fully human.
“Why does it feel like we’re fleeing something evil?” she wondered aloud.
Daniel looked up, slightly puzzled as if he didn’t quite hear what she said—although he had heard every word plain as day.
When he didn’t answer, she went on, “Why here? Why now? Why this terrible feeling in my gut?”
He jumped on the question immediately, “Because we have the matter of your gross misbehavior still unresolved, Lisle. Other than that, we’re here because I thought it was time that we got out of Washington. We both need a break, and seeing Albert and Abby seemed like a good idea.”
On most occasions, she would have bowed her head in shame at the mention of her blatant disobedience, however this time, she stood her ground and without the coy and timid posturing she was so adept at, she spoke with a steel in her voice he rarely heard.
“I’m not stupid, Daniel, don’t you think I should know why we’re here? My life is in danger, isn’t it?”
He peered at her strangely. “You call me Daniel. Is that supposed to signal something?”
“No, no,” she shook her head, drawing back a bit, “I thought I’d try it out and see how I felt saying it.”
“And…?”
She shrugged. “I guess I’ll leave that up to you.”
“What you call me is beside the point right now.” He began tossing clothes from his suitcase to the bed in a haphazard manner totally uncharacteristic for a man who championed order and control.
“Because my life is in danger?”
“I don’t know if it is, but I don’t know that it’s not,” he paused his fitful activity to look at her. “There’s been some disturbing internet chatter that could very well pertain to you. I don’t know that it does. But until I have more information, I decided that it would be good to take you out of Washington to someplace safe.”
She accepted this news without any obvious reaction, and yet, he could feel her fear rise and sense that her mind was frantically working over the idea. Her brows knit with worry and for the moment, she seemed befuddled about what to do or say.
“Th-thank you,” she finally stammered.
“No need to thank me,” he said and he continued tearing through his suitcase.
“That’s right, I’m your sworn duty.” She infused the comment with enough sarcasm to make him scowl again.
He didn’t react, except to grab his shaving case from the bottom of the suitcase. “I’m going to take a shower. While I’m in the bath, set up the room, will you? Put the computer on the table—and don’t turn it on—then put my things in the bureau. If there’s enough space, you can unpack your clothes as well. Whatever you do, don’t leave the room!”
“I can’t even leave the room? I thought I was safe here.”
“You are. But just once, humor me a little and do what you’re told.”
“Yes, sir.” She couldn’t stop the bashful look, the sorry eyes, the remorseful attitude, but none of it seemed to affect the man—at least not so it showed.
Daniel left the room door open as he moved down the hall to the bath, and the door was still open when he returned ten minutes later, naked and vigorously drying his air with a large terry towel.
Lisle had been on the floor, sorting through her suitcase and putting personal items into the bottom drawer of the bureau.
“I want my jeans, clean briefs and my grey sweater,” he announced.
“Yes, sir.” She immediately popped up. Opening one dresser drawer she pulled out his jeans, from another she pulled out the grey sweater and underwear she’d just placed there in a neat stack. She laid them on the bed and stepped back, watching as he began to dress.
“Sir?” she said softly. He appeared not to hear her so she spoke a little louder. “Sir, if you don’t mind…”
He looked up. “Mind what?” He couldn’t lose the hardness in his heart, no matter how hard he tried.
“Um,” she stared down at her feet and when she didn’t continue, he grabbed for the sweater and pulled it over his head. “I have something I need to tell—”
If she’d had three seconds more she might have finished the sentence and changed the entire direction of the evening, but before she could spit out what she wanted to say, they heard Abigail calling them to dinner.
“Six o’ five, you two. My stew’s on the table.”
“We’ll talk later,” he said, “don’t want to be late for one of Abigail’s dinners.
The conversation during dinner was brisk and mostly informational. Pleasant but not too pleasant. Though Daniel’s churlish demeanor altered to a more gracious and civil one in the company of his friends, the restless turmoil going on inside him was obvious to Albert and his wife. His grim behavior toward Lisle was noticeable in his terse comments to the girl.
When Albert was finished with his stew, he leaned back in his chair while the others were still taking their last bites. A preoccupied Lisle had only picked at her meal. As the tension in the room con
tinued to rise, the obvious rift between houseguests, looming over everyone like a bug-eyed dragon, became impossible to dismiss.
Finally, Albert leaned forward in his chair and stared pensively at the quaking Lisle, then at Daniel. “Are you going to take the brat to the woodshed or am I going to have to do it for you?”
Daniel put down his fork, sat back and looked at his friend.
“You sorry bastard,” Albert chided, “You’re not fooling anyone, trying to be nice. You take care of this business, then we’ll talk.” He pushed away from the table and stood up. “I got your favorite Scotch and some damn fine cigars in my study when you’re done.”
With the meal abruptly over, Abigail began busily clearing the table with Lisle hopping up to help. However, before the waif could get too involved in the task, Daniel was behind her with his hand at her neck, steering her away from the sink of dishes toward the back door.
He marched her to the woodshed in a manner that mimicked the long-standing practice from a previous era that sent recalcitrant brats to the woodshed to take the ‘licking’ they deserved. But even as they crossed the yard to the shed, Daniel was still unsure exactly what he’d do with her. He figured Albert’s dilapidated woodshed would be the place to decide that.
The smell of fresh cut wood hit them in the face as soon as Daniel opened the creaky door. Its primary purpose as a crude storage shed made the shack as dirty and unkempt as Daniel expected. There was, however, everything inside the small space he needed to punish a naughty brat. A brat was exactly what he thought of her right now. Since punishing her was the only thing he could think of that would end the emotional standoff that began when he discovered that she’d broken into the computer cabinet, he decided without having to think too hard that this was where he’d begin.
A cane, a broad three foot razor strap and a cat o’ nine tails hung against the wall by the door; a familiar looking sawhorse—with zero padding—was nestled in the corner by the window. Letting go of Lisle’s neck, he pulled the sawhorse into the small empty space in front of the stacked wood.
“You better be glad I didn’t decide to put you on the whipping post or you’d be out there shivering in the wind.” This was the first thing he’d said to her since they left the dinner table, and the rebuking tone quickly put her in a submissive place. Her eyes grew wide and she began to tremble. “So, you have something you want to tell me?”
“Ah, uh, no sir,” she nervously spit out.
“You’re sure?” His eyes were cold and threatening. “You were about to say something in our room before Abby called us down to dinner.”
“No, no… it…it’s nothing, sir,” she sputtered without much conviction.
Daniel knew she was lying, but he didn’t want anything else messing with what needed to be done now, and he knew that Lisle felt that, too. He’d seen her stare around the shed with a look of awe and fear. The symbols of punishment that surrounded her no doubt triggered some favorite chastisement fantasy. But in truth, it was Daniel’s commanding control of the moment that sparked her need and the tremendous craving in her belly. As her anticipation soared, her rising body heat practically leapt out and attacked him. He was getting hard and this was good; at least they had the same horny response.
He grabbed the razor strap first, doubling it in his fist. “Take down the jeans.”
For a split second he felt her hesitate, though there wasn’t an ounce of rebellion in her surrendering attitude. She gulped visibly, brushed back her hair and tried to unbutton her jeans, but her nervous fingers couldn’t work the brass button through the buttonhole. She tried twice and failed. Nerves getting the better of her, she stumbled back against the sawhorse nearly losing her balance.
“Calm down, girl. You’ve certainly been through this before. You will survive.”
She didn’t look so sure. She tried to calm, but was doomed to fail with so much adrenalin charging through her system. Her lamentable display only disgraced a sub who normally performed with faultless perfection. She was so eager to please him, so eager to feel his approval that for a moment she seemed stymied and unable to perform at all.
She stood with her back against the shed wall and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, sir… I’m not usually so…”
“Not usually so pathetic?” he snapped. He had no intention of listening to a bunch of bullshit excuses. “Something so simple, Lisle. I thought you were better than this.”
His words cut a deep wound in her, leaving her speechless and dazed. But despite her distress, Daniel felt her lust soaring. This was fuel to spark her darkest needs and they both realized that. As heartless as he might have sounded, he had no intention of changing the mood now. She’d either tough her way through the scene and finally shine, or he’d know that the slight girl with the perverted past wasn’t sub enough for his shadowy soul. Until this day, he believed that no woman had the willingness or the disposition to satisfy the darkness that rankled in him. He’d even given up those base desires to live in a different world.
So sure he was in his belief, he couldn’t see that he was testing Lisle, until it dawned on him that her misdeeds and his desire to own this woman—yes own her—had finally driven them to this place.
As tears pooled in her sorry eyes she tried to muster up some courage. It seemed that an entirely new relationship was being hammered out as they moved through the grueling confrontation. Of course she was rattled in a way that she hadn’t expected to be. She hadn’t seen this Daniel Broc, and it was only a small glimpse of the tough bastard he could be when he gave up any pretense at being civilized.
To give her credit, her eyes didn’t waver from his callous stare. In fact, staring at him seemed to settle her some. If anything, he was calmer now than he’d been all day, and the fierce look, rather than generating more fear in the trembling girl, gave Lisle the encouragement she needed to finish what she started.
With a sudden abruptness that surprised them both, she ignored the damn button altogether and yanked down the jeans. Without further prompting, she turned around, bent over the sawhorse and positioned her crotch on the top bar, spreading her arms and legs to the sides. A bit of slavish confidence was slowly filtering back through her wounded spirit.
There was rope available to tether her down but Daniel didn’t use it.
“Keep your arms and legs exactly as they are.”
“Yes, sir.”
He began with the razor strap, liking the leather and its earthy smell. The substantial feel of the thing in his hand, harkening back to woodshed confrontations from long ago, reminded him of why they were there in the first place. The first strike landed squarely on her rump, producing a bright red swath of color across her upturned bottom. Though her ass wasn’t big, the plump cheeks took the beating as if it were made for punishment. She twisted and groaned a bit, but otherwise didn’t make a sound until he switched to the cane and the cane made its first strike across the scarlet mounds.
“Ohmygod!” she uttered under her breath, as her body seized up in pain. She twisted more, and trying to restrain her cries, she locked her jaw shut and let out nothing more than an anguished grunt he would barely notice.
He delivered twenty cuts from the bamboo—enough to signify the gravity of her crimes and satisfy the anger in him. Most he laid on in a blistering fast cadence, though for the final three, he stepped back a moment to catch his breath. Those final three would welt her skin—if not cut until she bled. He wanted reminders that would last for days, that would instill in her the respect, and the honesty and the obedience he expected from her.
He reared back with his right arm and let the bamboo fly, packing as much might and energy as he dared into a single blow. He felt her reaction all through his groin and his cock stiffened even more. This time, her shrieking, “Eeeeeeeyaaaacchhhh! FUCK!” seemed to snap the air in two.
From behind her he only got a glimpse of her face, but in that quick moment, he saw the pain misshaping her features into an agonized g
rimace.
He repeated the process for the final two cuts, and left three bold welts to mar her pretty flesh. Finished, he reached around her with the cane and shoved it length ways into her mouth like a horse’s bit.
“Bite down on it and don’t let go!”
Turning away, he plucked the cat o’ nine tails from its nail and whipped it through the empty air, letting the sound reverberate through the shack. Just the snap of the leather thongs made her shiver so much that the cane nearly slipped from her mouth.
“Should I tie it in?”
“Nuh, uhh,” was all she could manage.
“You drop the cane, we start over,” he issued a stern warning.
Though Daniel knew that her ass couldn’t take much more, he was determined that she feel the full force of his wrath before he stopped—and he still had more to say. He brandished the nine-tailed weapon over her punished behind, then down her thighs and across her bowed shoulders and back. The resulting sensations were not as intense, nor were they as grueling as those from the strap or cane; the pain was more like a sensuous aphrodisiac, lifting her into a delirium she could pleasure in. However, he had no intention of letting her come now. As soon as he saw her arousal take hold, he stopped and hung the cat back on its nail.
The silence that descended over the woodshed no longer reeked of anger and discontent. The pair seemed settled and sane after the flurry of punishment, and when Daniel started to massage her aching ass cheeks, they both understood that the punishment was over and something else had begun. He could have ended the scene sexually; could have rammed his cock up her ass or cunt and demand she not come. But there were things left unsaid, admissions that Lisle needed to make, and a breach to heal not just with a beating but real words. Sex would wait as it had in the past. Though he’d dipped into the arcane depths of his darkness, he knew the moment couldn’t last—not this time.
Once Daniel lifted her off the sawhorse, she sank to the ground and huddled against his dusty books like a defeated slave.
Little Savage Page 21