Authors: Lizbeth Dusseau
“She
stole from you?”
“Her
father put her up to it, he could be pretty threatening. Though, I like to
think I set her straight.”
“What did
you do?” Abigail asked.
“I should
have turned her over to my father, but he would have only fired Buford and I
didn’t want to see that happen. He was so shiftless, I thought it was better
she had some decent place to stay. So anyway, I whipped her good to teach her a
lesson.”
“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
compli
-ant 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 swim-
ming
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 tor-
menting
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
authori-tarian
cool, something she’d
not yet wit-
nessed
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
awak-ening
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 gazed
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
sur-prised
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 fore-head.
“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 twin-
kled
.
Her first stew
turned out better than any-thing 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 set-
tling
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.