“You what?”
“I spanked her first, just a good sound paddling over my knee that first time. Boy she could holler like the dickens.”
“I can imagine, what I can’t imagine is you doing that to Darcy.”
“You’d be surprised,” he said, his eyes twinkling merrily. “She was pretty compliant for a few days after. I think it stunned her.”
“So, just that once and she behaved?”
“Not on your life. She was back to her old tricks and denying it a week later. She just got more crafty with it, and thought I wouldn’t know.”
“But you still did?”
“In spite of her worldly attitude, there’s something in that girl’s expression. I could always tell when she was lying. I warned her, that I’d raise her skirt, or strip her britches, which ever she happened to be wearing, if she kept it up. And I did. The last time I saw Darcy Greenwood until today, she was in the woodshed behind the mill, bending over a sawhorse, her fanny bare as the day she was born.”
“Oh, my god!” Abigail exclaimed.
“I’d found a razor strop, one of those two foot long leather straps that cut the air, and land like fire. I laid into her bottom so that her poor tail looked like I’d scalded it with hot water. Red as beet. She was howling for all she was worth, top of her lungs. I really didn’t care. There wasn’t a man around the mill that wasn’t cheering me on. We were all worried for the girl, more worried than her father ever was.”
“My god, I can’t believe this.”
“I’m not surprised she never told you. I suppose such things aren’t the kind of thing you talk about in normal conversation with a friend,” he speculated for her.
“No, they’re not.”
“I think she got the message that last time. Usually after I’d punish her, she’d swear at me like a drunken old sailor. But this time, she was much more subdued. Though her eyes still flashed lightening, almost as prettily as that pert round bottom of hers was flashing crimson.”
“Why was that the last time?” Abigail asked.
“Buford Greenwood got fired. After I punished Darcy, she refused to help him anymore, so he was trying to steal the money himself. Buford moved off somewhere, and I guess Darcy went back to her Aunt’s.”
Abigail nodded. Darcy usually lived with her Aunt Bess. Abigail had met her when she was ten, Darcy, an older and wiser twelve. To think that her best friend had once had such a relationship with her husband, it was startling. Perhaps it explained Darcy’s strange comment the last night. And apparently Darcy didn’t think any the less of Aaron for the treatment he’d given her, her friend had always been one of Aaron’s greatest enthusiasts when Abigail was deciding whether she should marry him. Little did she know …
“So, my love, enough about Darcy Greenwood,” Aaron said, pulling Abigail into his arms. It wasn’t long before the gentle fires that were brewing in them since their first sexual escapade an hour before were fanned again, as their hands began to play with the arousing private spots. With a little more effort, because she was sore, they made love again, and then rested again, both thinking of nothing but curling up in each other’s arms for the remainder of the night.
Just as Abigail was drifting off to sleep, Aaron pulled away from her.
“Turn over, my fine little brat,” he said.
“What?”
“Turn over.” He was sounding stern.
“But … not yet Aaron, I need to get used to this,” she replied, too petrified to pull the covers away.
“But nothing. You’re my wife, and I plan to have complete access to your body. I’ve seen everything but your bottom. Besides, I don’t believe for one moment that a young girl that swims nude in the swimming hole is going to be modest about her body.”
“How do you know I swim naked?” She looked stunned.
“I was looking for you a few months ago.”
‘You lascivious man!”
“Hush! And turn over.”
She pretended she was mad and didn’t. “No,” she answered him, and drew the covers higher, to her chin.
Instead of ordering her more sternly, as she almost expected, Aaron began tickling her sides, until she was screaming loudly for him to stop. Having twisted and turned all over the place, when he finally stopped tormenting her, she was her tummy, Aaron inspecting her butter soft thighs, and the alabaster bottom.
“My, you have such soft skin,” he whispered as he stroked her rear.
As sweet as his tones were, Abigail wasn’t really listening, knowing she needed an explanation for the less that perfect appearance of her posterior.
“What are these?” he finally asked.
“Those, what do you mean?” she asked.
“Yes, it looks like cuts of some sort.”
“I fell in a patch of briars, it was really very stupid, I was walking along by the stream, my feet just fell out from under me,” she continued in one breath, “and not wanting to fall on the rocks, which would surly have bruised me badly, I fell on to the shore. Unfortunately, there was a very nasty briar patch right there. The horrible things went right through my thin dress and cut me.”
“My, that’s quite an explanation,” Aaron said. He continued to run his hands along his wife lovely body. “Now if I believe it, that would be another thing.”
“Honestly, Aaron, it’s true.”
“My dear,” his voice suddenly turned chilly. “You lie to me and you’ll find more than just a few red scratches on your bottom.”
She turned over at once.
“What are you saying?” she said.
He continued with the stern authoritarian cool, something she’d not yet witnessed from her husband, as kind and gentle as he’d always been with her. “I will not tolerate lies, any more than I tolerated Darcy Greenwood trying to steal from me.”
“And I suppose you think you’d paddle my ass too,” Abigail said.
“You lie to me, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second,” he warned. “So tell me where these came from?”
Abigail blushed, her father’s visage suddenly appearing to her, when she thought she was done with the man. Now he was haunting her marriage bed, damn him!
“My father punished me last night,” she confessed at last.
“I see. Is this something he’s used to doing.”
“He’ll tell you that,” she replied.
“And is that true?”
“I suppose so,” she confessed reluctantly.
Aaron snickered. “Good.”
“Good. What does that mean?”
“Good, you didn’t try to lie again.”
“How are you your misdeeds last night, and how he thinks we should handle the confrontations in our marriage.”
“He did!” Abigail’s blue eyes were wide-eyed in wonder.”
“Yes, he told me all about the best way to handle Abigail McPhearson Barrow,” he confirmed. He kissed her on forehead and then the lips, with Abigail too stunned to reply. “Now, my love, I think it’s time we both got some sleep. I’ll need to introduce you to the kitchen in the morning.”
“But…”
“Hush,” Aaron said softly.
“But.. . ” she tried again. She wasn’t finished grilling him, a million questions immediately raced to the front of her mind.
“Hush, my darling,” he answered more sternly this time. “You need some sleep, and so do L” And with his arm holding her warm body tightly to his side, he snuggled in with his bride to sleep for the night.
Abigail, exhausted as she was, lay awake far longer than he did, thinking and rethinking the startling revelations - Darcy’s punishments, Aaron’s private meeting with her father, and the rude awakening that perhaps she hadn’t escaped the firm strong grasp of a powerful man at all. She’d only exchanged one uncompromising dominant with another. Even if he did make love to her like magic, this unexpected turn of events put her .marriage in a whole new light.
Chapter Two
Abigail gaz
ed up from the garden into the cornflower blue of the sky, whipped by a wind that spread the clouds into fine thin wisps of white. The roses were blooming and she was taking pride in the summer flowers that bloomed, thinking how odd it was to be happily living a very normal kind of life. So far there hadn’t been anything stirring to distress her. Being married was filled with too many other things to arouse her passions. Falling into bed nightly with Aaron felt like diving into a sultry foreign land where everything tasted vividly. The touch of his skin made her body shiver with sensations so vibrant, she thought some nights she’d burst from her skin.
Thinking about Aaron constantly made every second of her day rich. When he wasn’t at her side, away at the mill, her thoughts came back to him over and over again, delighting her with each fresh new memory of their time together. This was being in love, she was certain of that, and it was a life she never wanted to leave, unless of course he would take her to a bigger town or better yet, some bustling city and wider adventure than she could imagine - that would be the completion of all her fondest dreams …
“0000, ouch!” she cried. His hands were at her waist. Coming up from behind, he surprised her with an affectionate hug. “You’re going to the mill now?” she asked, looking over her shoulder into his startling eyes.
“Yes, and I’ll be home for dinner, my darling. With some good news, I think.”
“Good news? About what?”
“It’ll be a surprise.”
“I love surprises, but I can’t wait all day long!”
“Ah, but you will,” he replied, turning her around, so that he could look at her shining face. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” He leaned down and kissed her face, not just her lips, but her eyes and her rosy cheeks and even her forehead.
“I’ll miss you,” she said, thinking of how they’d made love that morning.
“Don’t worry, there’s plenty of me com-ing home for some of that stew.” His eyes twinkled.
Her first stew turned out better than anything her novice hand had cooked for him so far. It was a relief to both of them that she’d finally created a concoction they both loved. Even settling into the domestic part of married life was not so difficult, Everything was hers, nothing had to be shared with sisters and brothers and her parents. And away from her father’s stringent rules and his mean strap - could anything be more heavenly?
Aaron held her off from his big surprise all through their dinner meal. Abigail pried and begged him to tell her his news, but he was com pletely mum until he’d polished every bit of food on his plate, including a second large slab of buttered bread.
“You’ve got to tell me now,” she purred at him childishly.
“You haven’t eaten a thing, Abigail.”
“Oh, I can’t when I’m excited.”
“Maybe I’ve made too much of this.”
“Aaron, please,” she droned.
“Oh, all right,” he relented, smiling broadly - something he rarely did. “My father’s bought a new mill in Brighton Springs. He’s giving it to me, to us. We’ll be moving in little more than two weeks.”
“What! We’re moving?” She looked petrified.
“You always said you liked adventure,” he reminded her. “This will be a good one.”
“Adventure! In that savage, backwoods valley!” Abigail shrieked.
“My lord, what’s wrong with you?” Aaron said, seeing the vile expression on his bride’s face.
“I certainly hope you’ll turn down your father’s offer.”
“No. I’ll not turn it down,” Aaron replied. “It’s a generous gift, perfect for our future and certainly not something to get upset about.” He was completely dumbfounded over his wife’s objections.
Abigail stewed for a moment. The thought of moving a hundred miles away, further into the wilds, away from any city and the kind of adventure that she desired left such a bad taste in her mouth she wanted to spit.
“I’ll not go!” she announced, suddenly taking on the haughty bearing of an arrogant child.
“Perhaps we should sit down and discuss it reasonably,” Aaron suggested, maintaining his calm, even though he was about to loose patience with this unexpected performance. He’d never seen Abigail quite like this; stubborn as she sometimes was, nothing had happened in their young marriage to upset her so.
“There’s absolutely nothing to discuss, Aaron. If you’d only consulted me, you would have known that I am not about to spend my life in some out of the way outpost in the midst of the uncivilized wilds.”
“I’m afraid the deed is already done,” Aaron informed her, his eyes narrowing in that stern way he had about him.
“Well, then you’ll just have to undo it, because I won’t be going with you.” Rising from her chair, she started for the door, her flushed face looking at if it was about to burst.
“Don’t you dare walk out of this house!” Aaron roared, his own anger no longer suppressed.
She looked back at him and stomped her foot, then swished her behind sassily and continued her exit.
“I told you not to leave!” Aaron blared, and this time he was out of his chair, swift enough to catch her arm, and whirl her around.
“I don’t care!” she snapped.
“Your father warned me about your rebellious streak. To this point I thought it might have been his problem, but …”
“Let me go!” she cried, trying to wrench away from a very firm grip.
But Aaron was much too strong for her. Lifting her away from the doorway, he carried her to the other side of the room under his arm. Sitting down on a kitchen chair, he briskly flung his flailing wife over his lap. Holding her tightly to him, his hand came down on her bottom with a veritable rainstorm of smacks.
“What do you think you’re doing!” she screamed.
“Spanking your butt! What does it feel like?”
“Stop it now!” She tried wiggling from his grasp, though it was a useless effort. Aaron only doubled his effort, spanking her harder and more vigorously the more she tried to get away.
“You are a vile bastard!” she roared, a declaration she’d never used before, though at the moment it came from her tongue so easily, she didn’t even realize what she was saying.
Aaron spanked her harder yet, his hand not letting up for even an instant, so even through the protection of her skirt, her bottom was beginning to burn hot.
“You’re not going to sass me, no matter how angry you are!” he vowed.
“Ouch, goddamit!” she wailed.
“That’s it!” Aaron blared, hearing her curse.
Raising her skirt, he pulled down her drawers and began again on her bottom, this time with nothing between her reddening rear and the sting of his hand.
“You swear again, I’ll use my belt!” he warned her.
“I’m sorry, please stop!” she cried, feeling the impact of the sting so dear, she wasn’t sure she could take much more of it.
“Not until you’re ready to discuss this reasonably,” he said. The steady pelt of his hand wasn’t letting up, even as he spoke.
“Ouch! Goddammit!” she cried again. It hurt so badly, the pain so fierce, in all her punishments ever, she’d never felt anything so hor-rid.
“You must want the belt!” Aaron said.
“No, no, oh no, please don’t, I’m sorry.”
Aaron continued spanking her so hard his hand was hurting - no doubt as much as his Abigail’s rear. The hot blush on her wiggling bottom was a fiery red so he wondered if either of them could take any more.
“Are you ready to behave yourself?” he asked.
Abigail said something through her sobs that he couldn’t hear.
“Are you ready to behave?” he asked again.
“Yes, all right! I will, just please stop!”
Though he wasn’t sure he could believe her, Aaron stopped anyway, and pushed the exhausted young woman from his lap to her feet.
The look on Aaron’s face was fierce, his eyes as
dark as Abigail had ever seen them.
“There’d better not be another word, especially another curse from your lips, or I’ll get my strap, and I will blister your bottom raw!”
“No, no, please,” Abigail said, at the same time she was gulping back a sassy retort. She could see her husband meant every word he said.
“I will not have you flying off the handle at the first mention of something that upsets you. You’re an adult and you’ll be behaving like one. Is that understood?”
“Yes.” She bit her lip. The strangest and loveliest feeling ever was suddenly apparent emanating from her hot rear end. “I’m sorry, I guess I lost my head.” She was trying hard to be contrite though she hardly felt it.
“You certainly did lose your head.”
“But, Aaron please! I still don’t want to move,” she pleaded with him passionately.
“Brighton Springs is a lovely town. Out of the way, yes, but not buried in some untraveled mountain valley. Have you ever been there?” he asked.
“No,” she admitted.
“Then it’s hard to judge, isn’t it?”
“I suppose, but …”
“But what?”
“I think you’re being horribly unfair and so is your father, no one saying a word to me.”
“I do what I think is best for the both of us, and I’m certain you’ll see it the same way. Now, I have to get back to the mill. Your out-burst has already made me late.”
“Couldn’t we just take a few moments, and run upstairs?” Abigail suggested, as the seductive little spark was returning to her blue eyes.
Aaron read her thoughts, his face breaking into an amused grin. “You’d like that I’m sure,” he said reaching out to tousle her hair. “And I probably would too, except that you used up your bedroom time for one lunch, my fine lit-tle brat. You’ll have to think of that next time you decide to go to war.”
She pouted, but not too much, having no desire to raise his ire again. Though watching him walk out the door, Abigail was all the more determined to change Aaron’s mind about the move. If he thought punishing her was enough to get her to relent, then he didn’t know her very well.
Still smarting from the sting of the spanking, and being denied a womanly outlet for her passions, she had every reason to be as indig nant with her husband’s behavior as he was with hers.
Rebellious Bride Page 3