The Siren, the General's Daughter Book One (7 page)

“Same rules as always. You are to stay put. No kicking, squirming or reaching, or you will taste the hairbrush and we start all over. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Uncle Scott,” Sam whimpered.

He held her snugly in place, hand on her bottom. “When was the last time you and I had a meeting like this? About 7 or 8 months ago?”

“Yes, Sir, right before my accident.” She had mouthed off at him and ended up across his knee.

“You obviously have been getting away with too much lately. I am very disappointed in what I heard from you today. More so, throwing the analyzer on the deck? That was very childish and irresponsible. Do you agree?”

“Yes, Sir, Uncle Scott,” She wished he would just get it over with. This was part of the torture. Scott would keep her in this position as long as he needed to in order to add to her humility and fear. The lecture continued and Sam raised her head to prevent from getting dizzy in her upside down position. Finally, he asked the dreaded rhetorical question.

“Are you ready? One hundred with my hand and 30 with the ruler.”

“No… OW!” she yelped. She had forgotten how hard he could spank! After only ten, she was kicking, earning herself five swats with his hairbrush and a do-over. Poor Sam managed to make it to 30 before squirming, which resulted in ten more swats with the wooden brush and another start over. This pattern occurred at least another three times before she could make it to the full 100 without moving. Sobbing pitifully into his slacks, the girl laid limply. Without concern for her comfort, Scott stood her up to send her to the corner, hands on her head.

Her bottom was a deep red with several bruises outlining the brush. He was going to make sure that this lesson was well learned this time and had no sympathy for the state of her bottom. That was one part of her anatomy that he was unconcerned about harming.  The backside could withstand quite a lot without permanent damage. He had always been a spanker and had seen the miraculous results in the discipline technique with raising his stubborn baby sister. Now he dealt with her daughter, the spitting image in both appearance and attitude.

He waited 20 minutes before calling her back to his side. Kissing her cheek and wiping her face with his hand, Scott stared into her tear filled eyes. “Not done. Over the table,” he directed as he picked up the heavy mahogany straight edge ruler. It had been his fathers, an architectural engineer, to use for design. The hard wood was known to never warp, keeping a straight, smooth edge for drawing. He had found a better use for it.

Crying once again, the girl slowly obeyed. Next to the belt, she found this implement to be the worst thing ever. Its impact sharper and more exact, it was guaranteed to leave her unable to sit comfortably for several days.

“I will reinforce the rules. No moving, reaching or squirming or I start over. If this happens three times, the belt comes off until I’m satisfied with your obedience. Understood?”

“Why are you being so mean?” she sobbed, holding the edge of the table. He had been tough on her in the past, but this was, by far, the hardest.

He squatted to look at her face. There was no mistaking the love in his eyes. “You know why, my sweet. Now take your punishment like a big girl and we can put this behind us.” He waited until she nodded before resuming his position over her already well-punished bottom. The ruler fell harshly across her sit spot, and she gripped the table edge to avoid moving. Not being allowed to move and ignoring the need to run was often much harder than even the spanking itself. At least with her father and brother, she was permitted to kick and twist as much as she was able. Scott never held her down. He simply expected her to obey him.

Sam managed to comply until about 15 before trying to escape.

Tsking, Scott stopped. “That wasn’t very smart. We were halfway done,” he said, carefully checking the condition of her bottom. There was a lot of bruising and the promise of a few days recovery.

She sobbed her apologizes, begging him to stop, to forgive her… Scott sighed. He knew she had received enough, but follow through was important.

“I will grant you a reprieve from the start over this one time. Stay put for the last 15 and we will be done with this part. Just know I won’t be as lenient next time.”

Lenient? She thought, oh God… she stilled herself to prepare for the final assault to her tender, burning bottom. It came, loud and clear, fast and furious, and concentrated all efforts directly to her sit spots and upper thighs. She yowled, shaking her head as she fought to stay in place. She knew that this was, by far, the most severe punishment she had yet to receive from him and would try her best to avoid any repeats.

Scott allowed her to stay across the table for a few minutes before calling her over to his couch. He handed her a tissue and bottle of water before inviting her to sit carefully upon his lap. His arms wrapped easily around her tiny shoulders as he rested his chin on top of her head. “You remember what I told you before? We do this because we love you. I hope we can avoid a repeat in the near future.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Scott, I really am,” his niece sniffed into his neck.

“I am too. I am also sorry that you are still owed a mouth washing. Into the head.”

He made her stand for ten minutes with a bar of soap in her mouth. He straightened his quarters and made some coffee before he sat back on the couch to eye her. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she tried frantically not to gag.

“You’re done. Go rinse your mouth out and come back here.”

She quickly obeyed. Scott smiled, hearing her spitting into the sink repeatedly. He recalled one incident of doing the same with her mother. The stubborn girl had defiantly eaten the soap and earned another session with his ruler. Sam returned, wiping her mouth and following her uncle’s finger to join him. He held her again, telling her of what her mother had done. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“Mama was even worse than me, huh?” she asked.

Scott sighed, nodding. “I suspect it was because I was her brother and she felt the need to challenge me. Much the way you do with Mike. I love you, baby. You know it hurts me to have to be so severe with you.”

“I know. I’m sorry I push you to it.”

“I also think you are sorry that you get caught. I’m onto you, little one. Your sweet, innocent big-eyed look has never worked on me, either. Save it to use on Dad and Mike. Just remember, you never know when one of us is around.”

“Am I grounded again?”

“No, I think you’ve paid your dues. Of course, you would like to be grounded, wouldn’t you? Recovery time? Nope, not gonna happen.”

“You can’t blame me for trying,” she nestled safely in his arms.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s 0915. You are to be back in the lab by 10. I’ll see you there,” he said with final kiss before standing. “There’s some drinkable coffee if you want some.”

Sam watched him leave, her legs still wobbling from pain. She carefully picked up her strewn panties and cammie bottoms and made her way into the shower to try to cool down. The water felt good, rehydrating her as she allowed her skin to breath.

Stepping out and gently patting herself dry, she turned to look at the damage to her delicate bottom. Biting her lip, she touched the ugly purple bruises than lined her sit spots. He really got her good this time. Reluctantly, she admitted deserving every bit. She had been warned and chose to ignore it. Sam slowly redressed, painfully easing the garments over her swollen flesh. After braiding her long hair, she forced her chin high and left the room.

She was greeted by several men on the way back to the labs. She could tell that word had already circulated by their concerned questions. Although her eyes were still a little red, she summoned her dignity and feigned normality. Michael was waiting for her at her desk and stood when she entered. He wrapped his long arms protectively around her, not caring who saw.

“Oh, Honey, I heard. Are you ok?” he asked, lifting her chin to look up at him. He could see the pain in her eyes as she nodded.

“He ripped me a new one. Worse ever,” she whispered, hugging his waist. “I don’t know how I’m going to work today.”

“Let me see if he’ll give the ok to go out and practice the band. Stay here.”

Her hero. Sam smiled. She knew Mike would always take care of her. He returned a couple of minutes later, nodding. “He said we could go for two hours. He wants to see you first.”

Sighing, the girl ventured to her uncle’s office, tapping on the door. She entered, closing it behind her. Scott looked at her with concern. “Are you sure you are up to going out? I laid it on you pretty hard.”

“I can’t sit at my desk or climb the tanks. I swear, Uncle Scott, you’ll never hear another curse word out of me. I’m so sorry,” she pleaded, looking like she was going to cry again.

Scott smiled. “It’s done and you’re forgiven. Go on out. Tell Mike that it’s ok to stay for the rest of the shift if you’re up to it. Will I see you for chow?”

“I don’t think I’ll be up to it,” she admitted.

“Ok, I’ll have someone bring you something tonight. Be careful out there. Samantha?”

“Yes, Sir?” she paused before turning to leave.

Scott stood up to hug her. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“I love you too. I never had a doubt. Especially,” she touched her aching bottom, “now.”

***

Michael met his sister in her quarters as she tried to get into her tight-fitting wetsuit. He chuckled before going over to assist. “Let’s see the damage. Holy shit…” he exclaimed, gently touching her multi-colored flesh.

She shuddered, looking at it in the mirror. “That’s an understatement, and one you will never hear coming from my mouth. I need help, it hurts to bend.”

Her brother carefully helped dress her in bikini thong suit bottoms before easing the material over her legs and hips. She gasped as he adjusted the suit to fit her waist. “Sorry. I’m being as easy as I can. I can’t remember Uncle Scott being this hard before. I think he’s still bothered by the ‘incident’.”

“Me, too. He’s so afraid of me killing myself. He’s also having a lot of memories of mama coming to surface lately.”

“You look so much like her now, plus you have been a little brattier that usual lately. I hear she acted the same. It must be so hard for them. I barely remember her,” Michael stated, zipping the wetsuit across her chest.

“Hey, watch the boobs,” his sister snickered, smacking her brother’s hand.

He laughed. “Sorry, they’re in the way, and getting bigger.  You might think about a new suit soon. For such a little thing, you know how to fill out a wet suit. You are making it harder for us to protect you,” he said.  “You have no idea how hard it is not to slug one of the men when they ogle you.”

She posed for him. “Hey, the bigger they get, the smaller my waist looks... and the more I can scam with the guys.”

“I hate the break it to you, little sister,” he easily placed his large hands all the way around her tiny waist, “but your best feature isn’t your boobs. It’s that perfect bottom. Yeah, we should see getting a refit and work on your modesty. Maybe we could also change to a dark blue instead of red and get a material that is thicker than spandex. Are you sure you want to go?”

“The tightness of the suit isn’t helping, but yes. I can simply float. Regarding a refit, we need this color to discourage being eaten and we can’t change the density because it allows freedom of movement. As for modesty, I have no idea what that means. That comes from being raised by three men who forget I’m a girl. Do you have the band?”

Michael bit his lip as he eased his sister down the ladder and onto the platform. She struggled to mask her pain, but he knew her too well. He watched as she sunk into the water, exhaling the air from her lungs and allowing her skin to take over. It was still an adjustment for her, learning how to alter her breathing state. She had to resist inhaling while under water but frequently exhaled the CO2 as it transferred to her lungs. The expelled air also allowed her to speak clearly.

Michael dove in and followed her slow descent to the bottom. “That took a little more time than normal,” he observed.

“Even the slightest bit of pressure hurts so much right now. I found myself holding my breath. Let me call Ton over, he can haul me.”

Michael watched as she concentrated on the convergence. In no time, the orca arrived and greeted her with nuzzling his snout in her hand. Michael sensed she was sharing her pain with the animal and felt his heart pound when the whale turned towards him in a rigid attack mode. Sam quickly intervened, putting herself in front of her brother and explaining in more detail the reason for her ‘injury’ and who had given it to her. Calmed, the animal permitted the two to hold his dorsal fin as he slowly went to surface.

“I really need to practice more,” the girl said, her cheek against the whale’s rubbery skin. “I shouldn’t have to close my eyes to concentrate and I need to get their images clearer so they don’t try to protect me against the wrong person.”

“I’m almost done with the second band, so we can do that together. I’m curious. Have you tried without the band?”

“No, should I?” Sam asked, watching Michael’s expression.

“Yeah, with Ton. He’s got a connection with you. Let him know what you are going to try to do.”

The three paused in the open ocean as the girl communicated the experiment. She received a flat response, indicating the animal really didn’t care. Laughing, she removed the band and watched Ton depart. “If I may use a cetacean expression,” she giggled, handing her brother the band, “he doesn’t give a squid’s squirt what we are doing.”

“Really? Is that the image for him not caring?”

“I think it was meant that it wasn’t worth his time or interest. We were dismissed. Stupid land walkers.”

They laughed and went to work. Michael practiced imaging with local dolphins while Sam tried means of summoning Ton. She bumped a rock which sent flashes of agonizing pain through her body. Ton arrived in less than three seconds with his pectoral flippers rigid to hunt. Shocked, she held his snout, stroking him.