by Lexi Hots
“Well, Miss Harris, I’m sure you’re tired from your long journey,” He leaned forward on his desk. “By railroad from the big city and then by stage coach from the railway station at Fort Wesley.”
“I must say that I am.” She nodded. “I didn’t think this town was too small for the railroad.”
“The works are underway.” He gave her a smile. “Jorgen Creek will soon have its own railway station next year.”
“Well, Mr. Carson, if you’ll excuse me.” She stood up. “As you pointed out, I am tired and would like to refresh myself.”
“Yes, of course.” He stood up with her and smiled again. “Your bags have been taken to the bedroom. Juanita will show you where it is.”
“Oh, thank you.”
“And yes, supper will be served at eight.” He added. “I’d expect you’d want to join me.”
“Yes, I would.” She bowed slightly and walked away, following the little housekeeper.
Carson watched her leave, admiring her sensual swaying stride. He rubbed his hands, it would take some time getting used to her; a woman who clearly had a mind of her own. Carson loved the idea, he welcomed it. It would bring some excitement to his otherwise tedious life.
~
He had been sitting at the dining table since eight o’clock sharp, waiting for her. The chair across him was vacant. The soup had been served. He glanced at his pocket watch. Almost a half past eight. Her sudden soft footfalls made him turn around.
Delilah almost floated up in a white flowing gown, her face radiant and refreshed, her long luxuriant brown hair flowing freely to her swaying hips. The sight of her took his breath away and he felt his initial anger evaporating.
“Good evening, Mr. Carson.” She said, her voice as musical as silver bells. “Have I kept you waiting?”
“Well, yes.” He feigned anger. “We prefer to do everything in a timely manner, Miss Harris. This being your first day, I can grant you leave.”
“You make this sound like a job.” She laughed softly. “And you can call me Delilah, or Delia. I am, after all, your wife now.”
“Yes, I suppose that would be appropriate.” He nodded. “Try the turnip soup, Delia, you’ll love it.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” She sat down and looked at the thick liquid in the bowl before her with some disdain. “And may I call you Jeb or Jebediah… Mr. Carson is rather tiresome.”
“Jeb will do fine.” He smiled tightly, watching her twirl the soup spoon in the bowl listlessly.
She brought the soup spoon to lips and turned up her nose. “Could I just skip to the main course?”
“Soups not good for you?” He smirked.
“I’m really hungry; I need something a bit more substantial.”
“Of course. We are having steak and onions tonight.” He waved at the housekeeper and Juanita replaced the soup bowl with a plate of aromatic beef and sautéed onions.
Delilah smiled and put a piece of meat into her mouth, making a face.
“Isn’t that good enough?” He raised his eye brows expressively.
“The meat’s tasty, but a bit too chewy… kind of tough.”
“You’re having the meat that built my fortune, Ms. Har… Delia.”
“That’s good then, but I’m sure it wouldn’t go down well in the city.” She had a condescending tone.
“Really.” He looked at her with a scowl. “Then maybe I won’t try selling any there.”
She stared at him right in the eye. “Jeb, this is good and all, but I wasn’t prepared for something this rustic… I mean you should have told me more in the letters instead of just how well you’ve done with your life.”
“I didn’t see the need to.” He leaned back on his chair, making the wood creak. “Life’s real good enough for me to not complain at all. Why’d you sign up to be a mail order bride and come down West, you should have known life on the frontier’s not soft and easy like the cities back East.”
“I knew that, Jeb, I did.” She spat out a hunk of chewed beef back on to the plate. “I just wasn’t prepared to be wedded to a man twice my age.”
“So what are you afraid of?”
“You know, if I can be satisfied… in every way.”
“For calamity’s sake, you are one outspoken woman, aren’t you?” Carson grated. “And we don’t go spitting our food back on our plates. Please clean it up.”
“What do you have a housekeeper for?” She gave him a cold look.
“Juanita’s is here to look after the house and prepare the meals, not to pick up after you.”
“Then it’s time you hired someone who can.” She closed her eyes and sighed.
“By god, woman, you’re one pampered and spoiled brat.” He couldn’t keep his anger at bay any longer.
“That’s how it is, back in the city, Jeb.” She shrugged nonchalantly.
“Well, this ain’t the city, darlin’.” He drawled, feeling his blood begin to rise. “This here’s my ranch and you’re in the Wild West.”
“Oh, so what you going to do, Mr. Big Horn Cattle man?” Her petulant laugh incensed him further.
“Why don’t I show you what I can do upstairs?” He gritted his teeth, stabbing at the beef steak on his plate.
“I doubt if you can last a full five minutes, mister.” She threw him a disdainful look.
“By God, you’ll be begging me to stop.” He almost flew out of his chair. “But first I’m going to wash out that mouth of yours with a bar of stable soap and then use my switch on your insolent behind all night long.”
“I don’t think you’re up to it, Daddy.” She blew him a kiss.
“Wh... what did you call me?” He looked bewildered.
“You’re twice my age, old man.” She purred. “You’re my Daddy Dearest.”
“Unbelievable.” He roared. “I’m only thirty nine and I’m going to show you how bad this ‘Daddy’ can be.”
Jeb Carson was a big man, tall and lean, and years of working in the outdoors, herding cattle and wrangling mustangs, had made him the tough no-nonsense man that he was. Having a dainty little city slicker of a woman he just met making fun of him in his own house was more than he could bear.
Delilah shrieked as he roughly grabbed her by the wrist and ducked under her. He stood up with her lying over his shoulders. She kicked out her legs and flailed her arms about, slung over his broad shoulders like a day old heifer.
“Juanita.” Carson called out to his housekeeper. “Take the rest of the evening off. Go home; in fact, take tomorrow off as well.”
“Si, Senor Carson.” The little woman nodded and turned away with a smile on her wrinkled face. She didn’t look back as she left hurriedly through the back door.
“Put me down, you bully.” Delilah cried out, her small fists raining blows to his back and sides.
“You’re a bad girl, Delia.” Carson growled. “And Daddy’s going to do to you what every bad girl deserves.”
“What are you going to do, old man?” Delilah screamed. “Spank me.”
“That will be a good enough start.” He nodded and strode up to the couch by the window.
His strong muscular arms lifted her off his shoulders as if she was a sack of feathers and he flopped down on the couch, letting her drop over his thick thighs. Delilah felt the breath blow out of her as she landed hard over his legs.
“What the hell…” She gasped.
“Oh, you city gals are so darn spunky.” Carson laughed as he pressed her upper back down, squashing her breasts over his left knee.
She couldn’t move against the weight of his powerful arm over her and felt his right hand grab a handful of her long evening gown. He began to pull up the silky material, exposing her long slender legs.
“What are you doing, Jeb?” She shrieked. “Let me go.”
“I’m punishing you, darlin’,” He snorted. “I reckon as your legally wedded husband, I have a right to.”
She gasped as he pushed her gown high above her buttocks, exposi
ng the firm round buns to his view. She heard him whistle softly and felt his hard callused palm gently caress the smooth softness of her rump. She wasn’t wearing anything under the gown and the cool air on her bare skin made her shiver. She heard him spit into his palm and tried to look back, but his left hand held her down hard. She couldn’t move, she was at the mercy of this stranger she had never met before and was legally married to.
“Don’t bite your tongue off now, darlin’,” Carson guffawed and brought his rough, hard palm down firmly against her soft white buttocks.
Delilah stiffened at the sharp stinging blow, her eyes watering and body shivering. She fought back a scream. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of humiliating her like this. His hand came down again, harder, and again. Delilah squirmed against him, and he laughed, striking her again and again.
Her soft flesh stung like the Devil as welts began to form where his hard fingers had struck. She felt him caress her gently, kneading and massaging her yielding softness.
“There, there, my dear.” He said soothingly. “Daddy’s not so bad. Daddy’s going to make it better now.”
“You call this punishment.” She yelled suddenly. “You old coot, why I’ve had better spankings from my ninety year old school marm.”
“Is that so?” He laughed. “She must have had hands that could wrestle a prize bull by its horns then.”
“Yeah, they sure hurt more than your little princess soft hands.” Delilah screamed.
“Ah, here, let me take my gloves off.” He laughed.
Delilah sucked in her breath with a sudden gasp as she felt his iron hard palm smack across her tender butt again. This time his little finger struck at her naked pussy, suddenly making the familiar sensation of pleasure mingle with the pain. She wriggled her hips, eager to spread her legs and expose more of her.
“How do you like that, you little minx?” Carson grunted, his hand slamming down on her again with two fingers striking her pulsing pussy.
She knew he could feel her wetness on his fingers by now. She tried to push her head up again but he held her down. Her eyes went wide as a warm hardness pushed into her belly from underneath her. Carson was getting as turned on by this as she was.
“You call that a spanking, Daddy Dearest?” Delilah moaned, goading him on.
“How about this?” He brought his hand done with full force on her, making her arch her back and finally cry out in pain.
He rested his palm on her bare butt; two fingers nestled between the crack, lingering over her wet pussy. She felt his fingers wiggle over her pussy, sending streaks of pleasure through her body.
“More, more…” She whimpered.
“You’ve been sent by the Devil himself.” Carson grinned lasciviously. “But no more… not now.”
He rose up and slung her shuddering body over his shoulder. With a few quick bounds he was up the stairs and entering the bedroom. Delilah found herself roughly hurled onto the bed. She fell onto the soft bedding and cushions, welcoming the comfort. Her buttocks smarted like never before. She half expected Carson to rip her gown off and take her right then and there. But he just stood there and watched her. His hands crossed over his deep chest.
“Come on, Daddy.” She groaned, writhing on the bed. “Is that all you can do…”
“That’s enough punishment for today, you insolent filly.” He drawled. “You will behave yourself from now on…”
She moaned, rolling around the bed. Tears had stained her pretty face and Carson felt his heart beat faster at the sight of it. He quickly left the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Spanking her had really aroused him and he didn’t know why. He was angry with her apathy over the food, that which he had worked so hard for. No wife of his was going to disrespect his achievements. She could insult him as much but not his reputation. He felt a guilty pleasure in spanking her like that; she had made his blood boil like no one else ever did. He didn’t want to take her in the condition he was in, aroused and overeager, out of control. That was the benefit of being older and more experienced. If he had met Delilah ten years ago and she had stoked him like this then, he would have ravaged her ten times over by now.
Carson took a deep breath and stepped out into the moonlight. The cool air cleared his head and he lit up a cigar. He needed to ride, to feel free, to come alive… and get his mind off Delilah, at least for the rest of the night. He stepped into the stables and picked up a saddle. His favorite horse, Windsong, nuzzled up to him and he saddled her and bolted off into the night.
~
Windsong reared up, flailing her forelegs over his head. Colt Healey, the ranch hand, ducked quickly, avoiding the flashing hooves. The sound of her laughter burning in his ears, Carson walked up and grabbed at the reins. Whispering softly to calm down his horse, he glared at his mail order bride.
“I said, Windsong doesn’t need the switch, she’s the best trained horse here.”
“Oh, really.” Delilah grinned mischievously. “I think all animals need to be shown who’s in charge, don’t you?
“No, not when they are well trained.” Carson grated. “Now get off the saddle before Windsong throws you off her.”
“It looks like you care more for your horse than your wife, Mr. Carson.” Delilah sneered, eyeing the brawny cowboys doing their chores around the ranch.
“For one, she’s got better manners than you, does what she’s told and never talks back.”
“If that’s what you wanted in a wife, maybe you should have married the horse.” She snickered.
“Have you forgotten last night’s punishment… for your insolence?” His eyes were bloodshot.
“If that’s what you want to call it, Daddy Dear.” She purred and slid of the saddle, wincing a bit at the soreness from his spankings.
“Don’t call me that in front of the men.” He whispered sharply.
“And why not, they can clearly see you’re old enough to be my daddy.”
“That’s enough.” Carson roared. “Get back into the house.”
She waved at him sweetly and turned away, seductively swaying her hips, enjoying the way every pair of eyes out there followed her.
Carson gritted his teeth. He had to teach her a more harsh lesson than just spanking. Disrespecting food was bad enough, she had done it again at breakfast, but making fun of him in front of his ranch hands was the last straw. Grabbing a piece of rope and the switch, he strode towards the house.
He found her sitting by the bedroom window, wearing only a corset and stockings. His breath caught in his throat, she looked like a dancer in a burlesque house. He felt his temples pounding and a pleasant fullness between his legs.
She looked at him with a petulant gleam in her blue eyes. “Are you going to punish me again, Daddy?” The innocence in her voice made his heart stop.
“You’re playing games with me?” He snarled. “Me! Captain Jebediah George Carson. I’m teaching you some discipline if it’s the last thing I do. I’m going to get that city slicking impertinence out of you once and for all.”
“Oh, punish me, Daddy.” She moaned. “Punish me till you’re happy.”
“You bet I am going to, Missy.” He grinned and grabbed her by the wrist.
Delilah giggled nervously as he threw her over the back of the chair. The soft cushion pressed against her belly as he tied each of her wrists to the arms of the chair with the soft horsehair rope he brought with him. She felt the rope tighten over her skin, but it didn’t hurt.
“Oh, you’re trussing me up like a turkey, Daddy.” Delilah moaned. “Are you going to spank me silly?”
“That and more, my little city-bred wife.” He growled as he secured her ankles to the back legs of the chair.
With a deft pull he unfastened her corset and yanked it off her. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, and stood bent over the chair her hands and legs fastened and her welt ridden rump sticking up at him. He smiled at the sight of her. A terrible urge to take her right then
came over him but he suppressed it, not sure if he should let this kind of sadistic sex become a thing he desired.
Delilah tried to look at him, but she couldn’t turn her head around enough. She could hear him shuffling around and felt a chill run down her spine as she heard him crack the switch a few times in the air. He heart began to race; he was going to use that stinging whip on her sore bottom. A pang of regret momentarily crossed her mind, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to provoke a man she barely knew.
