Healing (General's Daughter Book 5) (24 page)

“Sam, I’m really sorry. I’m so jealous of you. I didn’t realize it until today after your dad, well…”

“Hey, there is no need to blush. That’s how they deal with things, that’s all. I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Why not? You’re eighteen.”

“Yes, but there was a long while when Daddy didn’t spank me. We grew apart and I felt abandoned. Scott’s always been strict, so I was closer to him. Boundaries feel safe to me, especially with what I do.”

“Scott told me what happened last year. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It hurt them more than it hurt me. And I still don’t consider their feelings like I should. I can be a selfish little bitch at times, too. I just end up with a sore backside delivered by four very large men.” Sam sighed.

Cecily’s eyes widened. “Mike and Rich, too?”

“In a heartbeat. They love me. It’s a small price to pay, believe me. Cecily, I want to be your friend. I don’t know how, but I want to try. I can’t change who I am, though, and if that’s why you’re jealous, then I don’t know what I can do. I have to admit that I really don’t know how to help you feel loved or wanted with how you act with me. I’m not used to this type of treatment. It’s foreign to me and it hurts,” Sam said, sitting on a bench.

Cecily joined her, taking a deep breath. “Your dad and Scott are going to take care of that tonight, I think. I asked them to,” Cecily said quietly.

It was Sam’s turn to widen her eyes. “Both? Together? Oh god… Girl, are you sure?”

“I’m supposed to meet Joe in his room after dinner, but I wanted to talk with you first.”

“Dang… You’re brave.”

“Or stupid. Any advice?”

“Run like hell?” Sam grinned.

Cecily bit her lip. “I have to trust them to be fair, right? How bad can it be? I mean, I’ve been caned close to cutting.”

“They would never harm you like that. The worse they would do would be Daddy’s strap. But this isn’t a strapping offense.”

“Your dad has hands like solid steel. Is Scott as bad? Worse?” Sam just nodded and Cecily paled. “Well, I better get this over with. Wish me luck, little cousin.”

“Good luck, Ce. I’ll come check on you, okay?”

“Thanks.”

Cecily bravely walked upstairs and to Dr. Quimby’s room where she sat and anxiously waited for the two men to join her.

Scott patted Dr. Quimby’s shoulder, “Ready, my friend? Rich, take this brood down to the beach to walk off dinner. Keep an eye on the short one.”

“Me?” Monique piped up with a smile. She loved her new Uncle Rich.

Scott laughed. “Actually, I was thinking of Sam. But yes, you too.”

“Come on, ladies. Mike! We’re going down to the beach. Hurry up!” Rich called to his friend in the kitchen.

“Coming!”

Scott watched the six leave, then turned to Dr. Quimby, “I like having a full house. Don’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s fun. Except for this.”

“It will work out well. Trust me. She needs this from people who care. She also needs to know she has safe boundaries. No caving.”

The two men walked into the bedroom and stood in front of the girl. Terror flashed through her eyes as she observed their heights and Dr. Quimby’s broad chest and arm muscles. She gulped fearfully, afraid to say anything.

“You sure you want this?” Scott asked softly. Trembling, she nodded, fighting back the tears. He sat on the lounge, patting his lap. “Come here, then.”

She slowly obeyed, glancing nervously at Dr. Quimby.

“You never have to be afraid of me,” Scott said as he enclosed his hands around hers. “You also must understand that once we start, it will not stop until we feel it needs to. This is your last chance to change your mind.”

“No, Scott. I’m so tired of being a horrible and mean person to people who don’t deserve it. I need a start over,” she whimpered.

Scott kissed her knuckles. “Very well, we will provide that for you. Across my knee, honey. These are coming down,” he announced, lifting her skirt and skimming her white cotton panties to her knees.

“One hundred with my hand and ten with the ruler. My rules: no kicking, squirming, reaching or twisting or we start over. Because this is your first time with me, you will not receive the hairbrush penalty. Understand?”

“Can I cry?”

“Absolutely. We want you to be able to free yourself from your guilt. Ready?”

“I guess so,” she answered, unsure of how to process the situation. Her punishment, fortunately, did not sound that dreadful. Until the first clap of his palm landed thunderously across her cheeks. Cecily gasped as the first blow fell upon her bottom, realizing it was still a little tender from her earlier session that day, and attempted escape after only five smacks.

Scott readjusted her. “No, no… I warned you about moving. We have to start over. This is about obedience and paying the price when you choose not to. I’m sorry. We’re at one again.”

Cecily was sobbing uncontrollably by the time she was able to finally complete the 100 spanks without moving.

Scott estimated her full tally to have been a good 300. Poor thing would be sore for a while. He held her as she cried, then stood her up. “Go stand in that corner until I call you. We aren’t done.”

He sounded sad. Cecily bawled into her hands, nose in the corner, the image of his eyes dancing in front of her. He felt no pleasure in punishing her and that thought made her guilt even heavier. Scott called her back after about ten minutes, ruler in hand.

“Lean over that writing table, please. Hold the edges. That’s a girl.” He squatted to look into her eyes. “Ten of these. Count them out and same rules as before, okay?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Scott kissed her forehead as he stood and positioned himself next to her. She shrieked as the ruler impacted her sit spots. It was almost as bad as Randy’s cane over her jeans!

“One! Oh my god!”

She danced on the tips of her toes, unable to control the wiggling as her bottom absorbed the impact of the heavy mahogany. Scott waited for her to settle, and splatted the long, thick ruler directly across the center of her cheeks. Cecily howled the number “two,” again rising to her toes.

“You are doing a lot of moving, Cecily. Do we need to begin again?”

“Noooo, I’m sorry! I’m trying to keep still!”

“I know you are, but try a little harder. Keep those heels on the floor,” Scott said softly, pressing the heel of his hand into the small of her back to force her to arch her bottom higher. His aim was for the tender swell where her thighs met her bottom.

Cecily cried out as the cracking sound filled the room. She sobbed “three” and buried her face in her upper arm. Scott’s hand was warm as he inspected her skin and patted her gently before returning to his chore.

The spanking continued slowly as Scott allowed the girl time to experience each burning stroke of his ruler, making certain that her glowing red bottom would remember the lesson when her time finished. Four, five, six… Cecily cried out the numbers, her fingers aching as she dug them into the table’s edge. The final four seemed to take forever, as though Scott was waiting for her spirit to accept its fate. Finally, he was done and Cecily found herself shrinking to the floor, clutching her burning bottom.
How could Sam stand this?
She thought, crying.
She is loved, that’s how
. By these two men.

Scott lifted the girl into his arms and held her closely as she cried. He rocked her gently, stroking her arm. “You and I are good now. There is nothing between us. Brand new beginning.”

Dr. Quimby smiled, watching his best friend comforting Cecily. He was a good father, uncle, brother, friend and boss. Dr. Quimby felt blessed, once again, for being so fortunate to have been given a second chance with Scott’s family. He prayed these girls would take some of their love with them when they left in a week.

It took Cecily twenty minutes to regain some composure and steer herself to face Dr. Quimby. He reached for her hands. “You don’t need to go through with this.”

“You’ve always been so nice to me, ever since I met you. I’m so sorry I was so nasty and mean. And rude. You’re old enough to have been my father and you deserve more respect than I’ve ever given you. I’m so sorry. Sam said you had a strap,” Cecily whispered.

Dr. Quimby hid his surprise as he nodded. “I do, but this does not warrant a strapping.”

“I deserve it. Please.”

Dr. Quimby looked at Scott, who shook his head. “No, you don’t. The strap is too impersonal and you need to feel the power of flesh on flesh.

“Please.”

“Very well. Three with the strap, then over my knee.”

“Just three?”

“Trust me, that’s more than enough,” he said gently, positioning her to stand, hands on the bed. He lifted the strap and aimed it expertly across the lower part of her already bruised bottom. She screamed, collapsing on the bed. This was far worse than Randy’s cane and Scott’s ruler! It left a burn like she’d never before experienced.

“Stop! Please!” she begged, holding her bottom.

He shook his head sadly. “No, I can’t. And neither can you. I’m a man of my word and I want you to learn that you can be a woman of yours. When you’re ready, get back into position. I don’t do do-overs, so no worries there.”

Dr. Quimby waited patiently. “Just two more left. Let’s finish this up,” he gently told her, pressing her back flat so her bottom would stick out more. Sobbing, Cecily crumbled after she was strapped twice more over her sit spots and the top of her thighs. Dr. Quimby pulled her into his arms to hold her while she cried.

“We’re almost done,” he said, pulling her over his lap and placing his large hand over her dark red, bruised and swollen bottom. He started to spank her, not very hard, but enough for her to know that she was in the hands of a man who demanded respect and control of his family. Her tears flowed freely and she did not try to resist him, finally submitting to his discipline without struggling. As much as his spanks scalded her bottom, Cecily found herself feeling very safe and at peace.

When he finished, he once again held her close and was joined by Scott on the edge of the bed. “Shhh, it’s all over. Clean slate, baby,” Dr. Quimby whispered, rocking her in his large arms. Cecily felt like a little girl, protected from anything bad in the world. She could not remember when even her natural father, who she hadn’t seen in eight years, treated her with the love that these two men offered. She was grateful that she had them, even for a short while, despite the agonizing pain to her fanny.

“I’m sorry, you guys.”

“No more apologizing. It’s over and done with. Not another word about the events or the discipline needs to be spoken,” Scott said with a gentle smile.

Cecily looked up at him. “Tell that to my bum.”

He laughed as he stood. “I’ll get you some pillows to sit on. And an ice pack.”

“You really do this to Sam?”

“Yes, although, she knows better than to land double duty.” Dr. Quimby grinned.

Scott chuckled. “No, for her it’s the Terrible Three or the Fearsome Four now.”

“She never pushes that far, though. Do you want to stay in my room for a while?”

“May I just go lay down in mine?”

“Sure. I’ll settle you in,” Dr. Quimby said. He walked her into the bedroom and pulled back the covers for her. “Go ahead and lie down. Scott will bring you an ice pack if you want.”

“No, thank you. I need to feel this and remember why it happened,” Cecily said honestly. After receiving a kiss to her cheek, the girl quickly drifted into the most restful sleep she could ever remember having.

***

Rich came through the back door an hour later, carrying Monique in his arms. He was frowning as he put her down. “You sit right there, young lady. Gentlemen, this little girl decided to try to climb the cliffs.”

“What?” Both Scott and Dr. Quimby said, looking at her. She shrank on the couch, arms crossed, saying nothing.

“I told her ‘no’ three times, and when I wasn’t looking, there she went. Sam went up to get her. I warned her what would happen, should she disobey me. In fact, I warned both of them. Sam’s in trouble too.”

“You could have hurt yourself badly, Monique. Those cliffs are very unstable,” Dr. Quimby scolded. Scott added the danger she put Sam in by having to help her.

“But I wanted to see what was on top,” the child argued, arms still crossed with a defiant scowl on her face.

Rich frowned back at her. “I am so disappointed in you. It was very disrespectful to defy me like that.”

“Richard, I think you need to take Monique into Jen’s room and finish your talk with her,” Dr. Quimby advised. He recognized the look; having seen it on his own daughter’s face many, many times when she was that age. Rich nodded, holding out his hand. Monique took it, shaking.

“Are you gonna give me a spankin’, Uncle Rich?” she asked fearfully.

“I really should. You deserve it,” he said firmly, pulling her with him.

Scott elbowed his friend, seeing the child bite her lip and fight tears. “Poor little thing. That reminded me of us with Sammi.”

“It certainly did. He’ll be fine with her. I trust him. He’d be a good dad. Too bad…”

“Hey, he’ll be a fabulous uncle. Trust me, it’s easier when they aren’t your own.” Scott grinned, hearing Monique apologize between the low rumblings of Rich’s voice. Monique’s promises to be good and her wails of protest made both men smile.

Rich had done the unexpected. He made her sit in the corner and write fifty lines:
I promise to always mind Uncle Richard and not put other people in danger.

Fifty long lines for a six year old were nothing short of torture in Monique’s opinion. Her angry cries of protest turned into tears of remorse as she accepted what she had done. Repentant sobs reached his ears and Rich called the little girl to him.

“I didn’t finish,” she wept.

Rich held the crying child on his lap, grateful that he would never have to worry about his own children needing discipline; he didn’t have the heart for it. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, sir. I wish you would have just spanked me. My fingers hurt and feel like they are gonna fall off,” the little girl muttered.

“Trust me, they won’t fall off. Do you think you would have learned what you did with a spanking?” Rich asked

Monique shook her head, still sniffling. He held a tissue to her little nose to blow and rocked her, singing quietly until she fell asleep in his arms. He carried her up to Sam’s room, dressed her for bed, and tucked her in with a kiss on the forehead. He turned to the doorway and held his arms out for Sam.

“I’m glad we can’t have children. It’s too hard,” Rich said, holding her closely. “Now, as for you, didn’t I tell you not to go up that cliff?”

“I’m the smallest and the lightest. It made sense.”

“I told you ‘no’. Mike and I could have gotten her down without you climbing,” Rich said firmly, holding her tightly. “Go into Mike’s room and wait for me.”

“But—”

“Now, Samantha.”

Rich raised his eyebrow as Sam pressed her lips together before obeying him. He waited a few minutes to make sure the child was asleep, closing the door behind him and crossing the hall to Michael’s room.

“My darling, why can’t you listen? I don’t tell you ‘no’ to be mean or stubborn; it’s for your own good,” he said, sitting on the bed. He reached for the ever-present reminder that Michael kept on his dresser – the large, oval wood hairbrush.

“I hate that awful thing. Please, Rich—”

“Over my knee, Sam.” His voice was gravely and deep, causing Sam to tremble as she silently obeyed his gesture to lean across his lap. Her shorts and panties found their way to the floor and Rich rested the back of the brush on the crown of her still pink backside.

“Two in one day. Shame. Only this one won’t be fun. You know my rules. You get twenty,” he said. Rich felt Sam’s fingers gripped onto his legs as he cracked the broad surface against her derriere. He knew she had to be gritting her teeth, for that particular implement delivered a sting that spread quickly across the flesh. He smacked her again on the other side, listening carefully for her reaction. A tiny yip was heard and he felt her mouth pressed against his exposed calf muscle.

“Don’t you dare bite me, Samantha. That was only two.”

Three more strokes came and a wail escaped Sam’s lips as she started to scissor kick her legs.

“No kicking. You may stop this wriggling. You are going nowhere, little girl,” Rich scolded, capturing her body under his long, right leg. He held her right wrist pinned against her side and released the remaining fifteen strokes back and forth across her quivering bottom, watching as it blanched and then changed shades of red. By the finish, she was sobbing, and begging forgiveness for disobeying him. He placed the brush on the bed and gently stroked her throbbing backside.

“You’re forgiven. Now, after you kiss me, you are to march your little butt downstairs and tell your dads that you were spanked and why,” he ordered, seeing her blush furiously. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his as he pulled up her panties and shorts, fixing them as he would dress a child.

“I love you, now go,” Rich said, patting her bottom. She ran down the stairs as he peeked in Monique’s room.

“Uncle Rich?”

“I thought you were asleep.” He sat down on the bed.

“I heard Sammi yelling.”

“She got a spanking, Monique. I told her not to go up after you and she did it anyway.”

“I won’t climb the cliff again. I promise,” the child said, hugging his neck.

Rich hugged her back. She was so tiny in his arms. “I trust you to keep that promise. Now go to sleep. It’s past your bedtime.”

Jen sat with Cherell outside on the deck, eyeing Sam as she spoke with her parents. “So far, it looks like only you and I are spank free tonight,” Jen chuckled, seeing Sam rub her bottom after being popped from behind by her brother.

“What’s it like?” Cherell asked.

Jen made a face. “It hurts terribly. I don’t seek it out. You’ve never been spanked?”

“No. I always stay hidden and away from being noticed. I don’t like being seen.”

“But you’re so pretty,” Jen argued.

“Not until you did my makeover. But I’m still me. The worse that’s happened was my mother slapping me across the face when I was little for saying a word I heard from Cecily. I learned to keep silent after that.”

“How sad. There is no silence in this family,” Jen said, seeing Michael pull Sam onto his lap to further aggravate her by pinching her thigh. In less than a minute’s time, they were both on the floor wrestling playfully. Sam lost.

Cherell grinned, watching them. “I like coming here. And being away from Randy and my mother. You’ve been a good friend, Jen. Thanks. I’ve never had one before.”

“You just never gave yourself the chance to find one. When you get back home, you’ll see things differently.”

“I go to a year-round boarding school for girls. This stuff won’t be coming with me, I’m afraid. We have uniforms and no makeup.”

“You are adorable. Keep wearing your contacts and take care of your hair. You’ll be surprised,” Jen reassured her. “Save your civilian clothes and makeup for when you escape on the weekends.”

“I never go out, though.”

“You will now. Let yourself have some fun. Hey Sammi, how’s the rump?”

“Rich used Mike’s freakin’ hairbrush. If he wasn’t so cute…”

“You love him. And I want to burn that hairbrush,” Jen added.

Sam grunted, glaring back at the boys who were now arm wrestling on the coffee table. She smiled; it was hard to stay angry. Michael won and was hooting.

“Is it always this way?” Cherell asked.

Sam felt her eyes tearing, watching them. “Always. And it better never change.”

***

“Okay, ladies, your folks are coming home tomorrow. We want you to know that you are welcome here anytime you want. We’re all going to miss you,” Dr. Quimby said around the dinner table. The Riley girls looked sad.

“I wish we didn’t have to go, Uncle Joe,” Cecily said, picking at her plate. He smiled. She had taken to calling him and Scott ‘uncle’ after her night with them. It was a term of respect, which he gratefully accepted.

“I wish you didn’t have to either, but your home is England. You always have one here if you ever need it.”

“I’m thinking about applying to college here in the States,“ she said, gazing at them.

“That would be wonderful. When did you decide to go back to school?”

“Mike and I had a long talk. I never realized how many options I had for my life.” She blushed.

Scott winked at his shrugging nephew. “He’s a smart man. I’m glad you listened to him.”

“I don’t wanna go back there. It’s cold and I have no one to play with. I’m going to miss Uncle Rich most,” Monique quipped.

“Still like me even after how mean I was?” Rich asked, eyes twinkling.

She made a face. She had reminded him about how mean he was every day for the past week. “I was bad. It was my fault. You also made my finger fall off.” She lifted her left hand with her index finger bent against her palm.

“Other hand,” Jen whispered. Monique quickly changed sides and gave Rich the puppy dog eye look.

“Wow, Rich, you made an impression.” Michael grinned. Rich stuck his tongue out at his friend, making everyone laugh.

“You’ve also picked up some six-year-old traits, Richard.” Dr. Quimby chuckled.

“Some eighteen-year-old traits, you mean. Sam does that all the time,” Michael teased, laughing as his sister repeated the gesture in his direction.

“I’m going to miss all of you really badly. Jen, you promise to keep in touch?” Cherell asked.

Jen smiled, hugging her. “Absolutely. Think about what we talked about, too.”

“I will.”

“Am I to understand that you three want to visit here again?” Scott asked gruffly.