Aftercare: General's Daughter, Book 4

by Breanna Hayse

  “Yes, it was. But, at least that’s been accomplished. No more parties, though. They are too dangerous.”

  “Daddy, please… only if I have to. I promise, no more alcohol.”

  “You had best not, young lady. I am not happy with that decision you made either, and intend on having a long talk with you. And no more showing off,” Scott ordered.

  “Uncle Scott, you drink a heck of a lot more than I did, and—”

  “Do you really think it’s really the time to be a smart ass? Yes, I drink on occasion and have stopped doing so in excess after you and your brother got on my case about setting a bad example, remember? More importantly, I am of legal age AND I never drive under the influence. Ever!” Scott shouted loud enough for Rich to hear him through the receiver. Both he and Sam winced. Rich reached for her hand and squeezed gently.

  Scott continued to bellow, “Get your little butt to bed, young lady. This discussion is over. Give the phone to Rich.”

  “Yes, sir. Rich, they want to talk to you,” she said, looking tired and depressed. Neither had said goodbye to her, or reinforced that they loved her, yeah, she screwed up.

  Rich took the phone, his eyes following her as she went into the bathroom to change. “Sorry about this, guys. She asked to call you, otherwise neither Mike nor myself would have said anything.”

  “It was the right thing to let us know, so don’t you worry about that. We also know that you’re ticked off right now, and that you have every reason to feel this way. We both feel partially responsible for putting her in this position where she really didn’t know how to respond,” Dr. Quimby said softly.

  “She’s never had to face the effects of true peer pressure. This is our fault for isolating her from the real world,” Scott added.

  “What’s with you two? No coffee yet? You are shouting one minute and then justifying her actions the next. Damn, if either of you were home, she would have been blubbering by now. What gives?”

  “Maybe we’re getting soft in our old age. I hate being away from home. Do whatever you feel needs to be done, but we’re asking you to show a little mercy this time. It’s the first time she’s ever done anything like this, and she’s had plenty of opportunities in the past,” Dr. Quimby requested in a sad tone.

  “Would you rather have me or Mike handle this?” Rich asked firmly, moving over so Sam could climb into the bed. He suppressed a smile; she was wearing Tinkerbelle pajamas with her hair in two high ponytails. Too cute.

  “We will leave it up to you. Call us later with an update,” Scott commanded.

  Rich agreed, said goodbye and hung up the phone. “That was interesting. Neither seemed too intent on having us deal with you.”

  “Probably because they’re feeling guilty for making me do this stupid school thing. Rich, I’m really sorry. I promise I will never do anything like this again. I don’t like you being angry with me.”

  “Go to sleep. We’ll work this out in the morning,” he said gruffly, turning off the light. He roughly pulled her against his chest, kissing the top of her head as he stared at the ceiling. He knew something was up, but what?

  The phone rang at six that morning and Michael answered groggily. He walked into his sister’s room, dressed in his sharply creased Charlie uniform that considered of a short-sleeved khaki shirt and woolen, olive slacks. His shoes were brightly polished and his web belt buckle shining. “Wake up, you two. I gotta go in to work.”

  “You look hot in Charlies, big bro. You should wear them more often.” Sam yawned, noticing how his arm muscle bulged from the sleeves and how the tailored cut of the pants fit snugly around his hips, butt and thighs. “I bet Jen would jump your bones if she saw you like this.”

  “Mike? What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Rich sat up, rubbing his eyes and ignoring Sam’s comments.

  “I just got called in to take OOD. The duty officer has the flu or food poisoning or something. Anyway, I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Samantha, you had best not leave this house, use the phone, watch TV or anything else. You are grounded.” He pointed to his sister.

  “Yes, Michael.” Sam looked down at her hands, her heart again aching because of the deception. “Please don’t be so mad at me. I’m really sorry.”

  “You and I are going to have a very long discussion when I get back, little sister. And it won’t be pleasant for either of us. If you need to balance, you are to do so at the dock and stay in Rich’s view, got it?”

  “Okay. I’ll be good, I promise.” Unhappy tears welled in her blue eyes. She had blown his trust and no mission was worth that to her. If only he could be told!

  “Hold up a sec, I’ll walk you out,” Rich said, hopping out of bed. Even in his scruffy sweats and tee shirt, hair unbrushed with a dark morning shadow on his face, Sam was stunned about how incredible he looked in the morning. Too bad he was so upset with her, this would have been a prime opportunity to grab some good alone time together. She was certainly in the mood as she watched his tight backside leave her room. She also liked the rough beard look. Maybe he would grow it for her during their next long vacation?

  Rich followed Michael out, telling him about the conversation he had with the older men. Michael grabbed his gear bag, listening carefully with a frown. “You’re right, that’s not like them. Maybe Sam hit the nail on the head about them feeling guilty. Rich, I don’t feel right in dealing with this. Something is not meshing for me here. I know her so well I can tell when she is lying or hiding something, and I think the old men know what it is. What do you think? I need your honest opinion.”

  “Okay, let’s assume there is something else in the works that they are hiding, do you believe either of them would have made her do this? Whether they feel guilty or not, this was a step that she should not have taken. It put her in danger. I honestly don’t care about the school crap, Mike. That is bullshit. But drinking and driving? There is no way I will ever justify that.”

  “I agree. You are also right. They both are very specific about following their house rules, no matter the situation. Please make sure she stays in her room today. I will take care of things when I get off duty.”

  “I was going to ask you if you would mind if I handled this instead. She needs to learn some things about me. The first and foremost is that I am not a pushover. I will enforce both your family’s rules, and my own. And I have made my position very clear to her regarding alcohol use.”

  “I don’t think she feels you are a pushover at all. Trust me, I have seen her around men who she thinks she can manipulate, and you are not one of them,” Michael reassured his friend. “However, if you really want to be the one to deal with this incident, I won’t object. To be honest, it isn’t in my heart to do anything right now. Like I said, something does not feel right to me. It really feels too much like a set up,” he reiterated, leaning against his car thoughtfully.

  “Even if it were, does that justify her putting herself in deliberate danger? Do you think your folks advocated what she did, even if it were in the line of duty? They are too honorable to disregard their standards to encourage anything like that. Set up or not, what she did was stupid and wrong.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” Michael conceded. “Just be fair with her, okay? Give her a chance to explain herself. If she doesn’t, well... Use your best judgment.”

  “Don’t worry, I will. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Good luck, buddy. I’ll call Jen and let her know where I am. Maybe she can come down and keep me company during my breaks.” Michael forced a smile. “Sammi did point out that I look hot in my Charlies.”

  “Oh, Lord. Your duty is to watch your post, not screw your girlfriend.” Rich groaned as Michael laughed while sliding into his car. “Call if you need anything. Drive carefully.”

  Rich stretched his back, watching Mike drive off. He turned back to the house and walked slowly upstairs. Sam was still in bed, looking a little more refreshed. She had obviously cleaned up a bit while he was outsid

e. The brat.

  “Move over, I’m going back to sleep.”

  “Hold me first,” she ordered.

  Rich wrapped his arm around her, pulling her back to his chest. She fit so well there, spooned next to his body. “Mike and I decided that it would be appropriate for me to handle your discipline today. Enjoy this snuggling while it lasts,” he said into her neck.

  She shivered, pushing harder against him. “Yes, Rich,” she whispered. “But you will also cuddle me afterwards, right? I need that so I know that you forgave me. Please?”

  “Don’t worry. I will both cuddle and forgive you, but there is a price to pay first. Now, sleep.”

  Sam sighed deeply, grateful that her parents had obviously intervened with a stroke of pure genius by putting Michael on duty. However, it did not necessarily mean things would be easier on her. Judging by the tone in Rich’s voice, she wondered if she had gone from the frying pan into the fire. At least she was confident that no switches would be used. His belt, though... that raised a much different concern.

  “Because this is the first time I’ve had to seriously discipline you, I want to make it clear that I have rules,” Rich said, pacing before her in her bedroom after a light dinner that evening. He had spent the day making her do Saturday chores, including cleaning her bedroom, dusting and scrubbing the bathrooms. Sam had kept her complaints to herself, relieving the horrors of OCS boot camp as the tall man leaned over her, watching every move she made. She had prayed that her cooperation would earn forgiveness. No such luck.

  “I will be finished when I feel you have learned your lesson and not one second before. If you even think of biting, pinching or scratching me, I can assure you that I can go on all night. I’m not at all concerned about the condition of your backside, so the prospect of bruising does not bother me. And finally, I will use a cane on you if you even think of repeating these offenses ever again. The switch Mike used on you was nothing compared to my cane work. Understood?”

  “Yes, Rich,” she whispered, visibly trembling. A cane? She found herself longing for her father’s strap.

  Rich pointed to the belt that he had around the waist of his jeans. It was wide and heavy, with beveled edges and simple stitching, Sam gulped tearfully. “This will be also be used tonight. Trust me, you won’t forget it.”

  “Rich, I’m really sorry. Please don’t…” Her fear and tears were real now. This side of him was terrifying. He was in full dominant mode. He made Scott look like an amateur!

  “Take down your shorts and put yourself across my lap. If I have to repeat myself or come after you, I will start with this belt,” he commanded. Shaking, she obeyed. He tsked, observing the tiny polka dot bikini panties she wore. “Didn’t I tell you to start wearing thongs? Very well, your choice,” Rich announced, pulling the garments away from her bottom and sliding them well past her knees.

  He patted her shapely cheeks, completely aware of how they quivered in fear. “These beautiful, perfect little things are going to know once and for all that I’m in love with them and that they are never to be put in a position of danger again,” he said raising his hand high before sending it hard against her flesh.

  Sam shrieked in pain. “Oh my god! That hurts!”

  “Yes, it does. And stop kicking,” Rich said grimly, continuing his assault on her bottom while lecturing her about the dangers of driving under the influence, stealing and defiant behavior. She was sobbing within minutes, pinned down and unable to squirm or wiggle. She certainly made every attempt, but was held securely in Rich’s iron grip. Slap after slap, Rich did not stop the flurry of swats upon her jiggling flesh until his hand started to sting, a good 300 or more smacks later. By then, Sam laid limply across his lap, her backside burning with pain. She tried to swirl, but couldn’t concentrate. It hurt way too much.

  “We are far from done, my love. Lay across those pillows,” Rich ordered, tossing two pillows on the bed. Still crying, Sam crawled over the fluffy mound in obedience, burying her face in her arms. She tried desperately to convince herself that this pain was worth the effort to expose the prostitution ring. She was not successful, feeling only sorrow for herself and her predicament.

  The sound of the belt being unbuckled and pulled from his pant loops turned Sam’s stomach. She held her breath as he carefully folded it in half in his hand, and held the buckle securely in his palm. This instrument brought a new, sharper and otherwise inconceivable source of agony to her backside. She screamed into the mattress, kicking her feet and lifting her heels to block him. He smacked the back of her bare legs four times with his broad hand.

  “I told you no kicking, Samantha. Mind me. Put those legs down, now,” he reminded her calmly, resuming his position over her with his belt. She lost count of how many strokes she received, her bottom finally growing numb from the searing lashes. They never seemed to end, and she felt as though her backend had been reduced to mush. She was soaked with sweat by time he finished, sobbing helplessly into her duvet.

  Rich slowly returned his belt to its proper place around his trim waist and buckled it. “To your feet, Samantha. Quickly. Do you think that you learned your lesson?”

  “Yes, sir,” Sam sobbed, using her hands to cover her face.

  He pulled them away. “Look at me,” he ordered gently. It was a difficult move to make; her shame was so deep that she did not want to face him. Reluctantly, she obeyed. His eyes were warm again and filled with love for her. “I love you. So much that I will do that again if it means ensuring your safety. My world would crumble if anything ever happened to you, Sam. Come to me, baby. Let me hold you.”

  She fell into his arms, weeping uncontrollably. He felt himself stirring under her embrace. No! Now was not the time! His head started to swim as he struggled against his own desires and needs. “Are you swirling me, little girl?” he barked, pushing her away.

  She shook her head vehemently, tears still pouring down her face. “No! I swear! I can’t concentrate to do that. Honest, Rich. Please believe me.”

  “Then what… what the hell…” He grabbed his temple, closing his eyes. It was too powerful. The need to make love to her was too strong to resist for much longer. “I’m sorry, I need to get out of here for a minute.”

  “Are you still mad at me? Did I do something else wrong?” She sniffed. She was accustomed to being cuddled after being punished, for as long as she needed. Stopping so soon was too abrupt for her, and insecurities flooded within her mind.

  “No, these swirls are forcing me to want to make love to you and I need to stop them.”

  “I see. Then you better leave. I certainly wouldn’t want you do something you didn’t want to do. Especially with me.” She sounded sad, rejected.

  Rich looked at her apologetically, “Honey, this is not the time. Please, try to understand. You need to trust me. I’ll be back soon.”

  He raced downstairs and plunged his head under the kitchen faucet. Even this far away, the urge was too great. He tried to meditate it away, but still felt the pull. Damn it, he needed her. He looked at the clock; it was seven in the evening. The breeze from the ocean was warm and soothing, whistling gently through the open deck doors. He went on to the deck, watching the late sunset. Decision made, Rich ventured upstairs.

  Sam was lying face down on her bed, sleeping off her session with him. She was beautiful, her body bathed in the orange rays of the summer sunset, looking like a golden goddess with fiery red hair. She hadn’t bothered to replace her panties, and her red backside peaked enticingly out from under a long tee shirt. Rich gently climbed onto the bed next to her and began to stroke the back of her thighs and tiny round bottom. She opened her eyes and looked at him with sadness.

  “I’m sorry I had to be so hard on you. You need to accept that I mean business,” he said, his fingers tracing the soft skin along her long legs. He mused about the length of them despite her short stature. A supermodel body compacted into a 5’2” frame. He was one lucky man to have found her. She needed to know how much he appreciated her inviting him into her life.

  She sniffed, nodding. “It was my fault. I was stupid.”

  “Are you up to coming downstairs with me? We could walk on the beach.”

  “I’m grounded, remember?”

  “I’m lifting it since Mike isn’t here. You paid the price. Besides, I want to be near you without the temptation. Are you hungry?”

  “Not really. Let me put on some clothes,” Sam said, carefully standing. Without hesitating, she stripped off the shirt and walked naked to her closet. She pulled a sundress off a hanger and slipped it over her head. Rich did not turn away, allowing himself the pleasure of watching her every move. She was graceful, despite the pain, and moved much like her brother with deadly catlike motion. Rich held out his hand which she took timidly, still uncertain of how to handle herself following her very first punishment session with him. She was silent as he led her down to the beach and they walked barefoot in the surf, listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the sand and an occasional cry of an evening gull. By the time they returned to the private inlet, nightfall had set in, along with the rushing high tide that would hinder the likelihood of any interested observers.

  Rich turned to Sam, speaking aloud for the first time in an hour. “I want to make love to you. You know that. I just can’t in good conscience. I love you too much. Please don’t feel that I’m rejecting you when I say no.”

  “I feel like there is something wrong about me that you don’t want. Like I’m not good enough for you.”

  “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry. And there is nothing about you that is wrong in any way, shape or form. I just don’t want you to think that when I am forced to have to punish you, that I will also reward you. That’s not me.”

  “I need to be held, though. You know that is the only way I really know I’ve been forgiven. Otherwise, I just feel dismissed and thrown aside,” she said, eyes sad as she looked down to face the dock’s wooden deck.

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