Aftercare: General's Daughter, Book 4
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Authors: Breanna Hayse
Aftercare
The General’s Daughter, Book 4
By
Breanna Hayse
©2014 by Blushing Books® and
Breanna Hayse
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Blushing Books®,
a subsidiary of
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Charlottesville, VA 22901
The trademark Blushing Books®
is registered in the US Patent
and Trademark Office.
Hayse, Breanna
Aftercare: The General’s
Daughter, Book 4
eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-5314
Cover Design by ABCD Graphics
This
book is intended for
adults only
. Spanking and other sexual activities
represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in
this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books’ or the author’s advocating
any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Table of Contents:
Jen glanced at Rich as they drove his jeep to her dorm. She
again questioned herself as to what had she gotten herself into by getting
involved in this family and their strictly enforced views of what was
considered right and wrong. Okay, so she smoked some weed on occasion. No big
deal, right? And it was not as though she sold an extensive amount, just enough
to help make ends meet in her poverty stricken college existence. She thought
of USMC Lt. Michael Quimby and his breath-taking blue eyes, rugged golden body,
and lips that could take her to No-Where-Land with a simple kiss. He was Rich’s
best friend and coworker, and had entrusted Rich to ‘settle’ the payment for
her deceit. Jen bit her lip, wondering if she would face more trouble with her
new boyfriend verses Lt. Richard Lewis, who had claimed her as an adopted kid
sister.
Jen grunted, crossing her arms as she reflected the
complexity of her situation. Samantha, Michael’s younger sister and Rich’s
girlfriend, had warned Jen repeatedly not to cross ‘the boys’. Jen had not truly
listened, first by producing a rolled joint after arriving in Canada on the
vacation which the four had taken with Michael and Sam’s father and uncle, and
second when she began to argue her case once they had arrived back at the
Quimbys’ house.
“Jen, please,” Sam pleaded, seeing the tic in her brother’s
jaw as he fought to maintain control, “you are only going to make this worse on
yourself.”
“I am an adult, Sam! These boys are not much older than I am.
Don’t you think it’s ridiculous that you allow them to punish you?”
“I don’t
like
it,
and you know it. But I would rather have them in this case than Daddy or Uncle
Scott finding out. Those two would
kill
you.”
“I seriously think you are exaggerating,” Jen said calmly,
avoiding Michael’s eyes or the disapproving scowl on Rich’s face. “I promised I
would get rid of the stuff and I will. Let’s leave it at that.”
“Jen—”
“Enough, Samantha,” Michael finally interrupted, “You were
given a choice, Jen. You made it. You wanted to be part of our family which
means, like it or not, submitting to discipline when you mess up. Backing down
now is not winning any points for you. In fact, it is making me question your
sincerity.”
“Mike, you don’t get it,” Jen pleaded, grabbing his hand. “I’m
scared! I have never really been spanked before and Rich... Well, he’s big!”
“I am not exactly a runt compared to him. We decided that
Rich would handle you because our relationship is still fairly new and I did
not find it appropriate.”
“We also decided,” Rich spoke out, “that this would establish
the relationship that you and I are developing as pseudo-siblings. Do you
believe I would harm you?”
“No, of course not!”
“Then be a big girl and face the consequences of your
actions. Get your stuff and meet me in the car.”
Jen again glanced over at the driver. Rich’s strong, sensual
jaw was set in determination, his eyes fixed steadily on the road. He had said
little to her as they rode and her fear grew in leaps and bounds. The Vancouver
trip had been wonderful, but, as Sam said, it was time to meet her doom.
Once they arrived at the dorm, Jen was greeted by a few
friends, and tried to appear casual as she introduced Rich as her older
brother. He politely returned the greetings, not missing her attempts to delay
the inevitable. Growing bored with her stalling, he finally ordered her up to
her room.
Jen sighed loudly, only a little relieved that the halls were
quiet since school was officially closed for the summer. So much for the chance
of someone calling the cops to rescue her! She unlocked the door and stepped
aside for him to enter.
“Housekeeping isn’t your forte, is it, Jen?” he asked, eyeing
the mess. “I think we’ll incorporate the Saturday morning chores into your
lifestyle. I’ll let Samantha explain. So, let’s see what we have here.”
He walked into the bathroom and pulled the curtain away to
reveal four small plants with heavy buds. He turned to her, hands on his hips. “Well?
Must I ask if you have anything else you need to show me?”
Silently, Jen gathered her paraphernalia and bags of loose
grass and offered them to him with a shaking hand. He flushed what he was able
down the toilet before ceremoniously crushing the glass beneath his hard-soled
shoe. Jen swallowed nervously, watching as he cleaned up the mess with a whiskbroom
and then began to shred the plants to flush them as well. Satisfied that this
part of his job was complete, Rich placed his hand on her shoulder to lead her
back into the main room.
He sat on the bed and looked at her, noticing the terror on
her face. “Can you think of any good reasons why I should not discipline you
for all this?”
“No, Rich. It was stupid. I was desperate for extra money,
but I could have worked another shift, I guess. I swear, I will never do this
again. You have my word!”
“I’m certain you won’t. You’ve really found a special place
in my heart, Jennifer. This is a struggle for me as well, but as the family
says, better us to bring a little pain than a stranger to bring death. Have you
ever been spanked before?”
“Just a couple of swats from the wooden spoon when I was
little.”
Rich nodded. “I believe in rituals. You will obey me, without
arguing. I allow kicking but no swearing or trying to bite or pinch me. No
reaching around and no rubbing afterwards. You will also be getting some corner
time to contemplate this. I want you to bend over my knee and put your hands on
the ground. I won’t let you fall, trust me,” he ordered, patting his lap. Holding
her breath, Jen obeyed. She felt like she would fall right off onto her face,
his legs were so long, but he held her securely with his left arm. Gently, he
skimmed her shorts past her thighs, followed by her panties, ignoring the tears
that rose from embarrassment.
Rich
rested his hand on her plump bottom.
“I want to know why I have to do this,” he said. Jen spilled
out everything she could think of, hoping that her cooperation would earn her
some sympathy. Rich sighed. “You left out the most important thing. I’m doing
this because I care about you. You are my sister now, and I need to be able to take
care of you.”
With that he landed his first smack. A bright red handprint
was immediately evident on her pale bottom. She shrieked. “OW!”
“Many, many more from where that came from, sweetie.”
He wasn’t kidding. Jen could not believe the burning that followed
each well-aimed swat, one after another. They fell without stopping, his rhythm
precise and practiced. As much as she struggled to escape, she was captive
under his punishing palm. She tried to distract herself by counting, unable to
get past ten without bawling out more apologies. Rich grimly focused on turning
her pale, chubby bottom to a scarlet red, feeling nearly hot enough to ‘fry an
egg’ upon. She was a sobbing mess when he finally stopped, laying limply across
his thighs with her hair in tangles on the floor. Rich patted her back before
standing her up, pulling her shirt down and smoothing it gently over her hips.
“Go stand in that corner. No, leave those there. We are not
done,” Rich ordered in a low, sad voice as she started to pick up her shorts.
Jen cried quietly in the corner, struggling to keep her hands
from rubbing her blazing backside. It was inconceivable to her how much it
hurt, forcing her to realize that her fantasy had been so much better that
reality. She also was forced to admit to herself that the one reality she
needed, more than anything, was of this family, and of Michael. Her sobs took
on a new sound, one of true remorse and regret. That was when Rich knew it was
time to complete his unpleasant task. He called her over to him and pointed to
the edge of the bed.
“Lean over, please,” he requested, removing his leather belt
from his jeans. She panicked, starting to run. Rich caught her. “No, you are to
stay here and accept your punishment. Your little plants here could have cost
you more than Mike. You would have lost your scholarship and gotten expelled. Then
what? Be a waitress for the rest of your life? You deserve better than that. Now
bend over. You will receive ten strokes, I expect you to count them and promise
never to have anything to do with drugs again. Here we go…”
Jen collapsed on the bed after the first stroke, unable to
stand the shocking pain that ripped across her already tender backside. Rich
did not allow her escape and Jen ended up over his lap again, held securely for
the remainder of her strapping. She was not able to see the furrow of his brow
as she howled and begged, or know that he carried a large lump in his throat
each time he raised the belt in the air. His relief was nearly as great as hers
when the ten strokes were completed, and he tossed the belt to the side so that
he could pull her up against him and hold her lovingly.
“It’s over. Shh. All is forgiven, okay? There, now, baby
girl, cry it out,” he cooed, stroking her back and shoulder as she sobbed,
first into her hands and then into his shirt. Rich rocked her gently, allowing
her time to gather herself. He reached across to the nightstand and grabbed a
box of tissues. Holding one against her nose, he ordered her to blow. She
started to laugh, taking it from him.
“I can blow my own nose, thank you.”
“Just trying to be a good brother. Do you hate me?”
“No, I don’t think I could ever hate you. It was my fault. I
should be thanking you for caring. No one ever really has before.”
“You need to be cared for. How’s your bottom?”
“I can’t believe how much it hurts. I hope Sam avoids pissing
you off, she won’t find this pleasant.”
“She sure won’t. And I would be harder on her than on you. I
need to be going home now. I have to work tomorrow and so do you. I also want
this room cleaned this evening. You’ll never know when one of us might stop by
and inspect. Are you okay? I can stay longer if you need me to.” He smiled,
kissing her forehead as he stood.
Hesitating, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’ll be
fine. Thanks Rich. You’re a great brother. I’m so sorry.”
“Get some rest, Jenny. I’ll see you in the morning.”
‘Jenny’? She had never been called Jenny. She liked it. After
he left, she went to the mirror to look at her scorched backside. Yeah, she
would be sore tomorrow.
***
“Samantha?” Scott called shortly after Rich had left with Jen
to drop her off at her dorm.
“Yes, Uncle Scott?” The tiny redhead scampered over to the
tall, gray-haired man with a big smile on her lips.
He sat on the couch and patted his right knee. “I believe I
owe you something for your smart mouth this weekend.”