Rebellious Bride

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Rebellious Bride Page 7

by Lizbeth Dusseau


  “Oh, good lord, Aaron. It’s nothing. I took her to Old Hannah’s,” Darcy suddenly jumped in with the truth herself.

  “You what!” Aaron snapped.

  “It was all very harmless. There’s nothing wrong with spirits. There’re kind of soothing to the soul, I think.”

  “No wonder you got lost coming home,” Aaron said. “That old woman should know better.”

  “She was very hospitable,” Darcy informed him.

  “I’m sure she was, but that hardly excuses your lack of self-control. Either one of you. Not to mention that you practically spit in my face to take that trail after all the warnings I gave you.’

  “You never forbid me to go down the gorge,” Abigail reminded him indignantly. “That doesn’t mean it’s any safer than the ridge, and you should have enough sense to know it,” Aaron barked at her.

  “I think you’re making mountains of molehills,” Darcy announced.

  “And I think otherwise. You two set off on this wild hike just to spite me, you drank like a couple of rowdies, got yourself lost. You’re in a heap of trouble.”

  “You have no place to lecture me, Aaron Barrowl” Darcy blurted out trying to rise from her seat.

  ‘Sit down!” Aaron blared. “I’ve as much right to lecture you as I did before. Any woman or man that leads my wife into a near disaster like this deserves exactly what she gets.”

  “Aaron … ” Abigail tried interrupt, until Aaron turned his angry eye on her.

  “And you! You were getting back at me for reining in your fancy ideas this morning. I know you well enough to have that one figured.” Aaron’s fury seemed to grow by leaps and bounds with his thoughts focusing on his wife. “The only way I know to settle this is in the shed, ladies. I suspect you’d better go there now before I get any angrier.”

  ‘Aaron, no,” Abigail pleaded.

  “Don’t even try it, Abby. Go to the shed and wait for me. And if it’s a long wait, all the better. Maybe it will scare you as much as you two brats scared me tonight.”

  Aaron turned on his heel and left the room.

  “Good, God, what have we done?” Abigail said, despondently. The thought of getting spanked that night was not appealing.

  “Having fun,” Darcy whispered to her, not at all chagrined by the consequences. “So, if we get our asses whupped, well then, let it be as good as the brew we had today.” She was practically smiling, hardly quaking in her boots the way Abigail was. Such nerve Darcy had, Abigail thought, as her dearest friend in all the world led her by to the shed behind the house.

  Aaron had never punished Abigail in this shed. He’d threatened a couple of times, but she’d managed to avert that hap pening. In recent weeks, behaving herself so well, she was beginning to think that she’d never have to face another chastisement. Strange how things can change so fast. Not so strange that it took a visit from Darcy Greenwood to make that change.

  The two women waited at least fifteen minutes before Aaron arrived at the shed. Those minutes were interminable, each woman recalling the times before that Aaron had bared and bruised their bottoms.

  At least when Aaron finally showed his face in the doorway, he was not as angry as he’d been before; though he was clearly purposeful in his task: a long leather strap dangled from one hand, and he held a wooden paddle in the other.

  Did he plan to use both? they wondered. Both women shrunk back a little at the sight of the fierce looking implements.

  “Darcy, you’re first,” Aaron announced.

  The feisty redhead stepped forward, proud as you please. She was not about to let Aaron Barrow get the better of her. “I suppose you want my pants down?” she said.

  Aaron nodded. “You can turn about and lean over the workbench, but your ass will be bare.” He laid the paddle and the strap on the bench so she could see them clearly.

  Wasting no time, Darcy, turned around and undid the button on her pants. Working the garment from her hips, she revealed two pink mounds of flesh that would be the subject of Aaron’s attention. Leaning over the bench as ordered, she grasped the other side and bowed her head to the wood. It had been awhile since she’d been whipped, but she knew exactly what Aaron expected.

  “You know, Darcy, I never thought I’d have to do this to you again, but…”

  “But what?”

  “I think you wanted for this,” he said.

  It was something for Darcy to consider, but she didn’t have much time for that. Picking up the leather strap, Aaron let it fly fast against Darcy’s ass.

  “Good god, that hurts. Do you hafta hit so hard?” she muttered.

  Not honoring her retort with an answer, Aaron began with a reign of strokes, the strap landing with sharp repeat ed blows across the center of the young woman’s posterior. From pink to red in a mere minute, the effect was more than just on the surface of Darcy’s skin, the cocky woman was howling like crazy - this was far worse than anything she remembered.

  “You blasted sonafa …” she tried a rash of swearing, but her words were gar-bled by the sounds of her own sobs. “Goddam, this hurts!” she managed to blare at one point, but Aaron wasn’t stopping.

  What was truly amazing was that Darcy might have gotten away from the whole-thing if she’d put forth any effort But instead she remained in her place, taking her punishment, as if to do otherwise would be backing down from a battle she was proud to wage - even though she was on the loosing end. She endured it for her own sense of pride, and for her companion in this misery, Abigail, who watched the terrifying spectacle from the other side of the room.

  As Abigail gazed at Darcy’s reddening rear, it only reminded her that she was would be next, the anticipation was not a welcome feeling. Even more stirring for her, she was surprised to see that Darcy Greenwood would allow anyone to wail on her this way. She suspected that Darcy and her husband had some unwritten agreement that went back all those years. Perhaps even Darcy needed to account for her behavior once and a while, and Aaron Barrow was the only one to see that happened.

  The leather strap smacked hard, the sound impressive, just as impressive as Darcy’s scarlet bottom. Abigail thought that Aaron would never stop; the ferocity of the smacks were beyond anything she remembered. The woman’s whole backside was red from the tops of her thighs to the top of her posterior. She didn’t know how her friend could take much more. And just as Abigail was about to intercede on Darcy’s behalf, Aaron began to slow the pace, until with a few finishing swats, he finally stopped.

  “It’s been long overdue, Darcy. I suspect you know that too,” he told the recover-ing young woman.

  She sobbed very quietly so it didn’t seem that she was all that distressed, but Abigail could tell she was, and so could Aaron. Standing upright again, Darcy put on her proudest, cockiest bearing, as she pulled up her pants and turned about to stare Aaron in the eye.

  “I suppose I deserved that,” she said with a sigh.

  “And probably a while lot more. But I can only punish you for what I know about.”

  Darcy smirked. “It’s a good thing.”

  “Well, you may go nurse your bottom inside the house. I still have my wife to attend to.”

  The redhead looked at Abigail. “Hey, don’t be too hard on her,” she told Aaron. “You know this whole thing was my fault.”

  “If I really believed that, I’d have punished you twice as long, Miss Greenwood,” Aaron said sternly. “As it is, she’s going to get exactly what she needs. Now you get on.”

  The feisty brat almost smiled when she left, but that would have been a little unfair to poor Abigail who still had her own punishment about to commence.

  The husband and wife watched the shed door close, Aaron standing before it, Abigail to one side. With his back to her, Abigail wondered what her husband was thinking as he remained for some moments not moving. Not seeing his expressive face, she couldn’t tell. When he finally turned about, she was hardly encouraged by the grim look on his face.

  .Now
, my naughty brat. What do you have to say for yourself?” he asked. Abigail shrunk back and bit her lip, part of a sheepish grin.

  “We just kind of lost our heads.” “And you really thought you could get away with it?” he asked. “I mean, Abby, you reek of liquor!”

  “Well, maybe not,” she said. “But is spanking my bottom really necessary?” she asked. Was it possible she could weasel out of this? “After all … “

  “After all nothing,” Aaron shot back before she could finish. “I’m probably as furious with you as I’ve ever been. This was almost as bad as the scare you gave me when you ran home to your mother.”

  “But, Aaron,” she groaned.

  “You’re over my knee this time,” he declared.

  In a complete change from Darcy’s punishment, Aaron sat down on a bench and drew his wife close to him. She went over his lap seconds later, her skirt raised to reveal her lovely robust cheeks.

  “This is one you’re not going to for-get,” he advised her, taking the wooden paddle in his hand.

  “Not the paddle, please!” she protested, seeing the implement from the corner of her eye. Her naked cheeks clenched in fear, as a grimace of concern crossed her face.

  “Yes, the paddle,” he said. “This one’s going to sting.”

  And sting it did. Abigail knew that unforgiving wood would hurt like hell from the instant of the first strike. But it wasn’t just one strike to start her spanking, Aaron leveled a good half dozen before he paused for even a second.

  “Yeeeeawww! Noooooo!” she howled.

  Another half dozen smacks, she howled all the way through them. Without even thinking, she was flailing her arms and legs, struggling to get away.

  “Please, Aaron, noooool” she cried, trying to throw herself from his lap as she wiggled about.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Aaron blared, sensing the mutiny. Pausing just a second, his free arm gathered her hands in his large fist and held them tightly at her waist. His right leg, in an effort to tame her struggling lower half, went over her legs, pinning them down - a circumstance that Abigail hated, though there was nothing she could do about it.

  Aaron resumed the stinging smacks of the paddle, moving erratically this way and that about her bottom, finding every white spot available making certain it would feel the vicious sting. He was as thorough as he’d been with Darcy, Abigail’s ass end turning crimson top to bottom. She hated that nasty paddle, but with no escape from the mounting pain, all she could do was cry like a child.

  “Please nooooooooool” she wailed.

  “I’m sooooory!” she wailed again.

  “Please, please, Aaron,” she tried over and over.

  And yet, her attempts were pointless, and her voice was only getting hoarse from all her cries. Aaron would end the spanking when he was good and ready and not before. The blistering heat and the impossible pain made it one of the worst she ever had.

  “You think you’ve had enough?” Aaron finally asked her as he slowed his brisk pace.

  “Oh, yes, Aaron, please!”

  “You going to use your head the next time I’m not there watching over you?” “Yes, I promise.”

  “And no more drinking,’ he said with an added degree of sternness, the paddle emphasizing his message with a few particularly hard strikes.

  “No, never, I promise, Aaron. Please I can’t stand it anymore.” There were tears steaming down her cheeks as she turned her head so he could see her forlorn face.

  And ending with two especially sharp smacks on the center of each crimson cheek, Aaron finally laid the paddle down on the table next to him. Placing his hand on Abigail’s hot bottom, he massaged her aching cheeks.

  “Let this be a warning to you. You will behave yourself with Darcy Greenwood. I don’t care what kind of schemes that girl cooks up, you keep your head about you, or you’re going to be feeling a lot more of this. Is that understood?

  “It is,” she said, snuffing her running nose.

  Lifting her to his lap, Aaron handed her his handkerchief to wipe her tears. Then holding her in his arms, he made her look at his grim face. “Sometimes I don’t think you realize how much I care about you. As much as I’m fond of Darcy, I wasn’t really happy to see her. She manages to escape trouble like a magician, but it seems to follow her no matter where she goes. This is a warning as much as anything, Abby. Watch out for yourself.”

  “This wasn’t trouble, Aaron. It was just a foolish little trip,” Abigail replied.

  “I know, and I’m glad about that. But don’t be surprised if you get roped into something else. I can almost feel it coming.”

  “I think you’re all wrong, Aaron,” Abigail answered.

  “Let’s hope I am,” he said. Giving her a big squeeze, he planted a kiss on her lips and smiled. By all accounts his anger and her punishment were over, and he had other things in mind. “So, my dear wife, if you’re not too sore to enjoy my company in bed, perhaps we could work off the rest of the tension there.”

  Abigail smiled, thankful for the suggestion. Leaving the shed, the two retreated to their room, where they spent the remainder of the evening in each other’s arms, underneath the soothing sheets of their warm bed.

  “Mornin’, hon,” Darcy said brightly, bounding down the stairs for breakfast one morning a week after their episode with Old Hannah’s brew and Aaron’s stern rebuke. The sassy redhead stared at the biscuits and gravy sitting on the table. Aaron had already eaten breakfast and was on his way to the mill. “Boy does that look good,” she said.

  “You look especially happy,” -Abigail remarked. She was particularly fond of Darcy when her bright face shined the way it was now.

  “I am,” Darcy replied. “It comes with being ready to move on.”

  “Move on?” Abigail said surprised. “I thought you were going to stay through the winter?”

  “Did I say that?” Darcy asked. “You should know me by now. How restless I get. Besides, I can’t stand watching you two love birds all the time.”

  “Love birds?” Abigail questioned.

  “Yeah. You’re hopelessly in love, even if you fight it sometimes. Anyone would be a fool not to see it.”

  Abigail appreciated the appraisal of her marriage. Sometimes, even she wondered about the status of her relationship with Aaron, he could be so distant, and she so petulant. The outsider’s positive view-point made her smile inside.

  “So, when are you going?” Abigail asked.

  “A day or two, or maybe this afternoon.’

  .So soon?”

  “Yeah, there’s this a guy in town that I thought I’d rather not see again. The soon-er I leave the better.”

  “What’s that suppose to mean?” Abigail asked, concerned by Darcy’s remark.

  “Well,” she hedged. “I kinda owe him money.”

  “What kind of money?”

  “A few bucks.”

  “How many bucks? I thought you had some stashed away.”

  “Well, that’s sort of run out. Another reason why I should leave.”

  “I could loan you some money,” Abigail offered.

  “Oh, no you don’t. You don’t even think about giving it to me.”

  “But if you’re in trouble.”

  “Aw, it’s not really trouble. And as far as I’m concerned I don’t even owe the guy. He just thinks I do.”

  Darcy was gathering her things together that morning, Abigail stewing over her need to go at all. Until that day, her friend seemed perfectly happy to remain with them. She could only conclude that Darcy was in trouble, real trouble.

  Later that afternoon, when the saucy redhead came in from a quick trip to the mercantile, her face was flushed and she looked as nervous as Abigail had ever seen her.

  “You remember that offer of money you gave me this morning?” she asked, as Abigail watched her quickly stuff her bags with clothes.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it still open?”

  “Sure. How much.”


  “A hundred dollars,” Darcy winced as she said it realizing it was a sizeable sum to ask from a friend.

  “My word, what’s happening?” Abigail asked.

  “Abby, really, you can’t be asking questions cause that could be dangerous. But if you could give me the money, I’ll pay you back, I swear.” Darcy’s desperation was clear from the strain in her voice.

  “I don’t know, the only place we have that kind of money is in the mill. I’m not sure, I could get Aaron to go along with this.”

  “Oh, no! Don’t go telling Aaron, he’ll ask all kinds of questions, and would make a real mess.”

  “But if I take it, the accounts will come up short,” Abigail said.

  Darcy turned away, putting more things into her satchel. Though she hid her face, Abigail could tell she was in tears. She was scared.

  “You know, I could probably fool with the books a little,” Abigail considered aloud. “I could loose a hundred dollars here or there. Aaron sometimes has me doing the company accounts. I’ll offer, and he’ll be delighted for the help.” Even suggesting it, the idea seemed ridiculous, but then, she’d never the irrepressible Darcy looking so frantic.

  “Oh, god, you’ll probably get in trouble,” Darcy said, as she turned back around. There were tears, but also a little relief.

  “If I do it right, nothing will show up, and Aaron will never know. If I mess it up… ” she shrugged. “What the hell is another spanking on my butt?” She smiled.

  “Good, god,” Darcy exclaimed taking Abigail in her arms for a hug. “You’re the dearest friend I’ve ever had. The only friend I’ve ever had.”

  “Just you wait here,” Abigail said, pulling away from her. “And keep your fin-gers crossed.” With that, Abigail flashed her friend a comforting grin and raced down the stairs on her way to the mill.

  Chapter Four

  After breakfast Abigail Barrow went out to hang laundry on the line: bedclothes that she’d washed at the crack of dawn, when she couldn’t sleep for thinking of Darcy Greenwood. The proverbial brat and dear best friend had left her under such dreadful circumstances, she’d been wondering for three days if the young woman had escaped the clutches of the man who was after her. Abigail wasn’t even thinking of the crime she’d committed herself to help Darcy: with hardly a second thought stealing the hundred dollars from her husband Aaron’s mill. However, the very idea of pilfering the money was perpetually in the back of her mind, as she knew the consequences of being found out by Aaron would be disastrous. She didn’t even want to think of how her husband would punish her.

 

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