Mail Order Brat

by Loki Renard

  “I’m not so young.”

  “You’re not old enough to drink in this country.”

  “Not for six months.”

  “We’ll have a drink together in six months then,” he smiled warmly.

  She felt happy tingles zip down her spine and to her toes. It had been a very long time since anyone had looked at her that way, with a measure of affection and kindness. His words weren’t lost on her either. In six months, he’d said. That meant he was either being nice, or he really thought she would still be there in six months.

  “Mind telling me what made you change your mind about marrying the man you came to meet?”

  “He lied about who he was. I would not have had good life with him.”

  “A life on the streets counts as a better life? It must have been bad with him.”

  “Da. Yes.” She shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it unless you want to. You did the right thing in leaving,” Steven reassured her. “And I’m going to help you. You have a place to stay until we can track down some legal counsel. John has all sorts of contacts.”

  “John doesn’t like me.”

  “John likes you just fine,” Steven smiled. “He’s just used to being able to respond when someone teases him. You should probably be careful if you don’t want to end up with a very sore bottom.”

  “I would not let him touch me,” Annika said. “I am very good at running away.”

  “Of that I have no doubt,” Steven said. “But if you do stay here, I think that a spanking or two is inevitable.”

  “From you?”

  “Yes.”

  Annika looked at him long and hard. “But I have not done anything wrong.”

  “Yes, but I think you eventually will. You’re playful, Annika. You like to tease and I can see you like to get your own way. Life here in Sweetville has an order to it. A lady has her place.”

  “Her place?” Annika chewed her lower lip, not because she was nervous, but because she was trying to hide a smile. He sounded like something out of a black-and-white television series, but he was completely serious.

  “You will be looked after, but there are rules that must be obeyed. Break them, and there are consequences.”

  “And all consequences are these spankings?”

  “No, not all,” he said, smiling slightly. “You’re going to test this, aren’t you?”

  “Of course,” Annika said. “And if I don’t like it, I will…”

  “…run away,” he said, finishing her sentence for her. “There’s nothing you need to run from here. What I’m talking about isn’t cruel.”

  “What is it, then?”

  * * *

  What was it? What was a spanking? Steven opened his mouth to explain, but he quickly realized that she was testing him. With her cute smile and devilish look, she wanted to know if he was going to actually spank her. She was curious. Eager, even. And he was on dangerous ground. If he didn’t spank her, she was going to do something to deserve it. That was implied in her question.

  He pushed back from his desk and patted his lap. “Come here, Annika.”

  She rose from her chair with quiet dignity and walked around the desk toward him, a playful smile on her lips.

  “You don’t deserve it, yet,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. “But I’ll give you a taste to keep you out of trouble. Bend over my lap.”

  She did what he asked without putting up a fight. Her compliance surprised him. The feeling of her body against his thighs was one he would never forget. She felt just right over his lap, her body nestled against his as if she’d been made to fit there.

  He was glad he’d insisted on more modest clothing. If she’d been wearing only that shirt, he would have been able to see everything she had, or at least, the panties covering everything she had. As it was, he could feel the twin rounds of her bottom, pert cheeks squirming underneath his palm. She was in good shape. Athletic. He liked the way her hair fell in auburn waves over her shoulders and neck, draping toward the floor where her palms were splayed.

  “Have you been spanked before?”

  “Nyet.”

  “I find that hard to believe. You’re the mischievous type.” He patted her bottom lightly, trying to avoid the temptation to caress her cheeks—and failing.

  “I am a good girl,” she said, her voice slightly muffled. “I study hard. I work hard. Only when I come here, to America, am I bad. I break the rules. I leave the man I promise to marry. I steal food. I break into cars. I…”

  “You did what you had to do to survive. You don’t have to do any of that anymore.” He slapped her bottom lightly. She didn’t yelp or growl or complain. She relaxed. He felt her settle over his lap and sigh softly, her thighs spreading a little as the tension drained from her body.

  He began spanking her firmly, sound slaps landing against the lower curve of her cheeks, one to each side, back and forth in a disciplinary tattoo. He expected complaint as his palm grew warmer, but there was none. Glancing in the mirror across the room, Steven saw that her eyes were closed and there was a little smile on her face. She was enjoying herself. So was he.

  “Feel like running away yet?”

  “No,” Annika purred toward the carpet. “I like this very much.”

  There was no pretense with the young woman. She didn’t play mind games or try to be coy. She just said what was on her mind. Steven liked that.

  “Good,” he said. “So if I send you to bed now, I’ll have your word that you’ll still be here in the morning?”

  “Yes,” she said to the twisted wool pile beneath her fingers. “I promise.”

  Steven smiled and patted her bottom gently before renewing the slaps at a greater tempo. Each one elicited a little squeak from his guest. The sounds went straight to the part of his mind that did not discipline because it was the right thing to do, but because it was an exciting, sensual thing to do.

  He paused for a moment, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He’d given so many spankings over recent years, and not a single one had made him feel the way he did in that moment. Annika’s cheeks waiting under his cupped palm, toned, but soft, yielding to his discipline with feminine grace. She was gorgeous in her submission with a sybaritic figure that could not be disguised by even the most modest clothes.

  “You stop?” She looked over her shoulder, hazel green eyes sparkling between questioning lashes.

  His mouth was dry. Another important part of his anatomy was growing hard in spite of his efforts to distract himself with mundane thoughts. He didn’t have any control over his physical reaction, but he was determined not to let her know. That wasn’t fair. She’d trustingly laid herself across his lap for what amounted to a welcome spanking, and all he could do was stare down where the fabric of the skirt was sinking between her thighs and will himself not to touch her there.

  “I think you understand how this works now,” he said, helping her back to her feet.

  “Is not so bad,” she shrugged. “Does not feel like much.”

  “Good,” he said, ignoring the little hint of challenge. Oh he could have spanked her harder. He could have bared her bottom and spanked her bare flesh until she begged him to stop. But she didn’t deserve that and his impulse to lift her skirts had nothing to do with discipline.

  With a great measure of self-control, and no small amount of regret, he sent his Russian guest to bed.

  Chapter Three

  Annika woke feeling rested for the first time in what felt like months. The view out of her window was so pretty she almost wanted to cry, dappled light falling through leaves turning golden hues. Sweetville was the prettiest place in the world, or so it seemed to her. Most of her life she had been surrounded by the remnants of communist industry. Things were either starkly utilitarian or garishly over-decorated and gilt with gold. There was none of that in Sweetville. Things were simple and wholesome, pretty because of their essential nature, not desp
ite it.

  She laid in bed for a long while and let the warm glow of the morning sun warm her. When she did finally rise, it was only because her stomach insisted that she seek out some kind of sustenance. She found food in the kitchen—along with the pastor.

  “Morning, sleepy,” Steven smiled. Her heart skipped a beat. She still couldn’t believe she was staying with such a handsome man. Everything about him made her melt. The most casual glance from those dark, smoldering eyes and she found herself wanting to kiss him.

  “Hello,” she said, feeling shy.

  “Coffee?” He held up the pot.

  “Please.” She slid into a seat at the kitchen table. There was milk in a jug, cereal in a bowl, and toast in a rack.

  “Help yourself,” Steven said, putting a cup of coffee down in front of her.

  “Thank you,” she said again, still feeling shy. In less than twenty-four hours, she’d gone from living on the streets to having a comfortable bed and food. She couldn’t quite believe it. Even as she ate the toast, she half expected to wake up in an alley somewhere.

  “I’m going to drop you down to the medical center when you’re ready,” Steven said. “Mary wants to give you a checkup.”

  “Mary?”

  “She’s a doctor,” Steven reassured her. “A good one.”

  “I don’t want to see the doctor.”

  “Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t a request.” Steven sat down across from her.

  She should have hated him for being so bossy, but she didn’t. It was because he was just so natural about the way he gave his orders. It was like he didn’t even know he was bossy. It was just the way he thought things should be.

  Thoughts about her kindly host managed to distract Annika all the way through breakfast, and the drive to the medical center and even all the way into the examination room.

  “I feel fine,” Annika said in one last feeble protest. It was far too late.

  “Good,” Mary smiled. “A checkup will make sure you stay that way.”

  Mary was also quite effective at getting her own way, as was demonstrated by the fact that Annika soon found herself sitting in her underwear with a blood pressure cuff around her arm. Before she knew it, she’d opened her mouth for the tongue depressor, said ‘ahh’ dutifully, had her reflexes tested, and answered dozens of questions about her health.

  “Excellent,” Mary smiled at the end of it all, as if Annika had done something right. “You must have taken good care of yourself when you were living on the streets.”

  “I wasn’t on the streets very long.”

  “It doesn’t take long to go downhill if you start sleeping rough and engaging in risky behaviors.”

  “I never slept rough. There was always somewhere to break into.”

  “Oh,” Mary said. “Well… I guess…”

  She didn’t know what to say. She was a nice lady who had never had to make hard decisions and who had a husband to make sure she never had to do anything wrong, and if she did, by chance, stray off the path of righteousness, he would pull her back onto it.

  “People often don’t lock their doors,” Annika said. “And they never lock their refrigerators.”

  “Well, you won’t have to steal food anymore,” Mary reassured her. “Steven is going to take you out for lunch.”

  “He is nice.”

  “Yes,” Mary said with a little smile. “He is very nice. I think he likes you.”

  Annika blushed. “He likes everyone. He is a good man. That is what good men do. They pick up strays—and spank them.”

  “You got spanked already?” Mary put her hand to her mouth and giggled to herself. “I’m so glad you’re here, Annika. You’ve no idea how nice it is to see Steven… entertained.”

  “Entertained?”

  “He never has any girlfriends,” Mary said. “He says it’s because he’s too busy for a relationship, but really it’s just because he’s been keeping himself away from everyone emotionally. I don’t know how you did it, but you’ve already gotten him to open up more than any other woman.”

  Annika smiled. That was nice to hear. It meant Steven liked her, maybe as much as she liked him. It was too much to hope that he liked her in an intimate way, but it was nice to feel wanted, if only for a little while.

  “Well,” Mary said, unwinding the pressure cuff from around Annika’s arm. “You seem to be in good health. You’ve maybe lost a little more weight than is ideal, but that’s nothing a few weeks of home cooking can’t fix.”

  Steven was out in the waiting room, speaking with a nice-looking lady. He cut the conversation politely short as Mary escorted Annika out.

  “All okay?” To Annika’s surprise, he actually looked somewhat concerned. She realized she must look rougher than she thought for him to be so worried about her physical health.

  “Clean bill of health,” Mary said. “You can take her away and feed her.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Once again, Annika found herself swept up in Steven’s charming sway, going along with what he determined she should do next. He took her to an Italian bistro, where everything smelled deliciously of tomatoes and meat and cream, all the good things in life.

  “We need to talk about what you want to do,” Steven said over breadsticks. “You’re in a difficult position.”

  “I’m not going back to Russia,” Annika said. “There is nothing for me there. No love. No work.”

  “You said you had a degree?”

  “Da. Physics. But nobody needs physics. There are no physics shops. Was waste of time.”

  “An education is never a waste of time,” Steven said. “Besides, a bachelor’s degree in physics is a good starting point for a lot of careers.”

  “Here, maybe. Russia, no.”

  “You’re here now,” he pointed out. “And I’m going to help you stay.”

  She looked at him curiously. “Why?”

  “Because that’s what friends do,” he said. “They help one another.”

  “I am not your friend. I am a stranger.”

  “A stranger is a friend you haven’t met yet.”

  “Or a stranger is someone who will rob you blind if you give them half the chance,” she snorted. “I could be a very bad person, and you would not know.”

  “I’d know.”

  He was so sure of himself and so naive at the same time. It probably came from living in such a nice town where nobody ever did anything bad or mean. Sweetville wasn’t like the rest of the world; it was a little bubble where rich people could pretend the world was other than it really was. Annika knew what the world was really like. She knew it was full of men who wanted to use her. She knew her assets were superficial, that she was being judged on her appearance. Even Steven was doing that. She was pretty, so he was nice to her. If she had been homely, he would probably not have offered her a place to stay, or wanted to help her either.

  “There’s no need to frown, Annika.”

  She forced a smile and nodded. A waitress bought pasta carbonara, rich and creamy with bacon and garlic flavors. It was just delicious enough to make Annika forget how terrible the world really was, at least for as long as it took her to clear her plate.

  “I need to run a few errands,” Steven said when they were done eating. “Do you want to look around the shops for a bit?”

  “Da,” she said.

  “Good. We will meet back here in an hour. There’s a clock up on the town tower over there, see it?”

  She did see it, and assured him of that fact. After several more reassurances, he left her wandering about the mall.

  When they met back an hour later, Annika had changed. Specifically, she had wrapped a lime green scarf around her neck. She hoped he wouldn’t notice. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t. Most men didn’t notice little things like dress, especially accessories.

  The moment Steven’s eyes landed on her, they did a quick up-and-down and then fastened on the offending item. ”Where did you get that from?”<
br />
  “Huh?” She feigned ignorance.

  “This scarf. Where did you get it from?”

  “The store.”

  “The store,” he repeated. “Did you steal it?”

  There was no point in lying. She was caught, red-handed. Or green-necked. “Maybe.”

  Steven put his hands on his hips and gave her a very long, very disappointed stare. To her surprise, it actually made her feel a bit guilty.

  “You are going to take this back, you are going to apologize, and then you are going to get a sore bottom.”

  “Or I could keep it,” Annika suggested with a playful smile. It did nothing to penetrate the granite of his expression.

  “You can’t keep it. Stealing is wrong. The store owner is relying on the income from that scarf.”

  “I understand how commerce works,” Annika said. “But I wanted it.”

  His large hand closed around her wrist. He started walking back to the store and she had no choice but to follow, trailing after him.

  “I believe this is yours?” He unwound the scarf from Annika’s neck and presented it to the sales assistant. In all her life, Annika had never felt quite so small as she did when the assistant and other customers turned toward her with curious stares.

  “This does look like ours,” the assistant agreed. “But the tags are missing. If you want a refund…”

  “I believe they likely went missing around the same time the young lady wound the garment about her neck.”

  Comprehension dawned slowly, first in the woman’s eyes, then in downward turn of her lips. She gave Annika an ice-cold stare.

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to call the police, Pastor Soames.”

  “If they call the police, then I’ll be deported,” Annika hissed up at Steven. “See what your stupid morality did?”

  Steven slapped her on the bottom. “Go back to the car,” he said. “Wait for me there. I’ll talk to the police.”

  “But the shop girl…”

  “Don’t worry about the shop girl. Worry about your bottom.” He spanked her again, sending her scuttling out of the store.

  Annika went and waited by the car. A few minutes later, Steven emerged from the store and came across the parking lot. He did not look happy with her. A little part of her was triumphant at having been proved right. He wasn’t going to like her, not after he realized what she was really like.