by Abbie Adams
Sopping up the water took five additional towels. After wringing them out and hanging them over the shower rod, she was not only hot, she was once again aching. Stripping off the robe, she hung it on its hook on the back of the bathroom door. Placing her hands on her lower back, she twisted from side to side and then dropped straight down and placed her palms flat on the tiled floor. Her groan turned into a giggle as she craned her head back to work out the kink in her neck and caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was a total mess as she hadn’t bothered to blow dry it, simply twisted it up into a high bun on top of her head to keep it out of her way while on her hands and knees cleaning the floor.
Cripes! Hands and knees and now bent over, legs spread a bit and hands planted on the floor? Even without conscious thought, she placed herself into positions that provided the perfect target for a spanking. Seeing color rise in her cheeks, she stood and couldn't stop herself from twisting around to get a good look of her other set of cheeks. Nope, not a single red spot. She supposed the good thing about only being spanked in her fantasies was that no matter how long the spanking or what the chosen implement was, there would never be a single mark on her body as evidence that yes, she, Sunny Alexandria Winters, was a closet spanko. Could one be a spanko without ever being spanked? Shrugging, she decided she had to have a least one vote in her favor for membership in that rather exclusive club. She might not feel the heat of another's hand on her rump but she certainly had enough of a vivid imagination to dream up some pretty freaking hot scenes.
Now that she was unkinked… another set of giggles exploded as she realized what she'd just thought. Granted, her stiff muscles might have loosened from her little exercises, but she feared that it would take an entire decade of therapy to have her let go of her kinky thoughts. Hell, screw it! She was an adult and could think whatever she wanted. If she wanted to have sex with an entire convention of twins, she could. If she wanted to cuddle on a Daddy's lap, what was to stop her?
Tugging the scrunchy from her hair, she ran her hands through the damp strands. Unless she took the time to wet it and blow dry it again, she'd most likely look like a chicken who'd stuck her beak in an electrical socket by morning. Spying her wine glass, she snagged it and lifted it in a toast to the nude woman with the world's worst hairdo who was looking back at her from the mirror.
"Screw it! You, my dear, are truly beautiful…" She giggled and then added, "Well, at least you look better than a chicken." Draining the last of the wine, she swallowed and grinned. "A little drunk perhaps, definitely walking that thin line between reality and insanity, but… still looking good."
She took the time to run a brush through her hair before tossing it down onto the counter. It slid across the marble and smacked with a clunking sound against the green square can she'd set there earlier. Suddenly, she wasn't quite as tipsy as before. Looking around the room as if expecting to see that people had materialized, she reached to close the bathroom door. Why was it that she could bend, squat, and stretch without a single thought of her nudity but now she was pushing the lock in to keep any visitors out of her bathroom?
Picking up the can, she turned it around in her hands as she thought about how it had come into her possession—the truth of what happened when she and Jesse had returned from their ride.
* * * * *
"Thanks, Jesse," she said after he'd lifted her from the saddle.
"You're welcome. I'm sorry about your shoe." While she had lost her flip-flop somewhere in the jungle, she didn't step on any burrs. Instead, her foot landed in the warm dirt of the yard a few feet from the barn.
"No problem, I have another pair in my bag."
"Do you have another swimsuit?" Her head turned to see Jake standing in the door behind her.
"Um, not in my bag, why?"
"Because I'm pretty sure you'll be throwing that ridiculous suit away."
"Who are you, the fashion police?" she snapped. "I'll have you know that this suit is not only not ridiculous, it is what everyone is wearing and it's brand new!"
Jake shrugged and moved to lean against the door frame, his ankles mimicking his arms, both crossed across his body. "Suit yourself. Forgive me for assuming you didn't care to walk around looking like you pooped yourself."
Her mouth dropped open. Surely she hadn't heard him correctly. She was about to give him yet another piece of her mind when she heard Jesse chuckle. Whipping around again, she saw his sheepish grin.
"What?"
"I'm afraid he's right… again," Jesse said. "Not about your suit being ridiculous as I think it is very pretty, but he was right about your attire. Face it, your choice of footwear could have cost you a twisted or broken leg and, well, I have to agree, you'll most likely be tossing your bottoms in the trash. I don't know what fabric that cute little yellow suit is made from, but I do know the manufacturer never meant for it to be rubbing against a leather saddle."
His words were confusing until she turned her head over her shoulder and looked down. Gasping, she felt heat flood her face. The heat from the day, mixed with the moisture between her spread thighs, had caused her suit to stain. Jake had described it perfectly. Her new bikini looked as if she'd had a hugely embarrassing accident. Evidently she moaned because Jesse patted her arm. "I owe you an apology. I should have listened to my brother. I never even thought about damaging your suit."
"Did you think about the real damage?"
Lifting her head again, she looked up to see that Mr. Always Right was striding towards her.
"What do you mean?" Jesse asked, his expression showing his confusion while she was sure her expression showed nothing but her embarrassment.
"Jeans not only don't stain, they protect your skin," Jake answered, tossing something in her direction. Catching it, she saw that it was a green can. Something about it seemed familiar. Suddenly, memories of working in her friend's stables flooded back.
"This is for horses," she said, lifting her arm to toss the can back.
"Since you know that, you should also know what it's used for," he said.
Rolling her eyes, she answered, "It's an ointment used to treat wounds or abrasions." When he nodded, she huffed, "So, why are you giving it to me?"
"It contains calendula and has been called one of the most beneficial herbs you can find. It has been used for centuries."
"Okay…"
"Spread your legs."
Okay, this time she was sure she'd heard him incorrectly. Before she could speak, he repeated his command.
"Spread your legs and look at your skin."
The moment he explained, she could feel a burning and itchy sensation between her legs. Turning away from him, she moved her feet apart as little as possible, ran her hand up her inner thigh and gasped as her eyes confirmed what her fingers felt. Remembering squirming in the saddle in an effort to find a comfortable position, she understood why that had been impossible. Both of her inner thighs were chafed and covered in an inflamed rash. Bare skin not used to even the light of day was definitely not used to being rubbed against a saddle. Groaning, her eyes slammed shut. First it looked like she'd pooped herself and now it looked like she had the world's worst case of diaper rash. God, why couldn't the dirt beneath her feet simply part and allow her to drop down into the center of the earth?
"Put some Epsom salts in your bath, soak a bit and then use it very generously," Jake said from behind her. "Applied a couple of times and you'll be fine." She heard his chuckle before he cut it off. "Actually, the remedy is pretty apropos for you, Sunny. It's made from a flower considered almost sacred in India for its healing powers. They call it 'the flower-of-the-sun'. Use it, buy a new bathing suit, and perhaps the rest of your vacation won't be ruined. Your taxi is on its way."
She took several deep breaths in order to calm herself and acknowledged that it was time to swallow that bite of humble pie. Turning around to apologize again and to thank him, she was robbed of the opportunity to prove that she was at least a pol
ite ditz as he'd disappeared. Jesse gave her another sheepish grin and another apology.
"No, it's all my fault," Sunny said. "I knew better. Please extend my apology to your brother and my thanks for the ointment. Um, tell him I'll definitely use it."
Jesse gave her the tote bag and she slipped her sandals onto her feet and pulled on her pair of white shorts that she had forgotten were in her bag. Though they were wrinkled, she'd never been more grateful for a single piece of clothing. She might have a can of diaper rash cream in her bag but at least she wouldn't have to walk through the resort looking like a toddler who hadn't made it to the potty on time.
* * * * *
Wishing the embarrassing reality had instead been the fantasy, she opened the can and dipped her fingers inside. Even the scent was familiar. She'd watched Julie's father applying the same unguent to a horse's sores. Though she'd been prepared to be embarrassed and have to ask the clerk in the gift shop for Epsom salts, she'd been pleasantly surprised to find the box sitting on a shelf with other creams and lotions. Apparently the salts were good to soothe all sorts of aches and pains. The Epsom salts had helped with the inflammation so that it wasn't quite as red and yet she hadn't realized how much it still bothered her until she began to smear Jake's second remedy over her rash. The comfort was almost immediate. Sending yet another heartfelt thanks to Jake, she had to smile. He might be the cowboy in the black hat, but underneath that stern exterior, he had a heart as big as his brother's.
By the time she'd waddled out of the bathroom, looking like a bow-legged cowboy, she barely had the energy to open the bottle of coke she'd requested. Washing down three Tylenols and praying they'd ease her headache from too much wine as well as help keep the pain of her rash away, she pulled back the covers on the bed and carefully slid between the sheets. Reaching to press the lever on the wall to turn off the reading light, she glanced towards the trashcan under the desk. Another point for Jake—her brand new and yet now ruined yellow bikini was in the bin.
Chapter Eight
"You march your little butt into the house right now. You haven't learned anything, now have you?" Her Daddy led her to the house with a hand on her arm and the other swatting the seat of her cutoff shorts, his longer legs quickly eating up the ground.
"It wasn't my fault this time; the cabbie got there late. Honest, Daddy!"
"Really, little girl? That's your excuse? It would have been far better for you if the cab was even later because you took the time to dress properly. How many times have Jake and Jesse told you exactly what clothing you are to wear when you have your riding lessons?"
He had stopped and spun her around and she couldn't help but see the disappointment in his blue eyes. His dusty blond hair framed his face and could probably use a good trim. She was pretty good with a pair of scissors. She often trimmed her own split-ends to save a few dollars. A new book always seemed to take precedence over something as useless as a salon visit. And, her Daddy definitely had a mane of hair she'd enjoy running her fingers through. His hand tightened on her arm just before he shook her.
"I am talking to you, young lady; are you listening to anything I say?"
No way was she going to admit her mind had wandered, again. Now what had he been spouting off about? Oh yeah, the same subject she'd gotten her butt busted for by those two cowboys. Yeah, the two who obviously weren't only riding instructors but were also tattle-tales! Why else would her Daddy have been home an hour earlier than usual?
"I have my boots, Daddy, see?" She lifted her leg and wagged her foot as if he couldn't see the bright pink boots he'd bought her when she'd begged for riding lessons.
"Sunny…"
Not giving him a chance to finish, she put her hands on her hips. "And, just for your information, I do not have a bikini on under my clothing. I don't know what the big deal is! Why do they to be so serious all the time? Jeez!"
"Wow, I now understand exactly why I got that call. If this cavalier attitude towards rules is what you show to those in authority, then little girl, you are about to discover it was not a good choice on your part." He began walking again, his hand easily encompassing her upper arm. "And, I can absolutely promise you that we are going to see exactly what you are wearing beneath those shorts."
Sunny might not understand the hang-up about her clothing, but she did understand that look and that tone. It was definitely time to back-pedal. "Daddy, I didn't mean it like that. I was just trying to put everything into the proper perspective."
Though her Daddy nodded, she also saw his eyebrow lift—another bad sign of where this was leading. Her bottom might be covered by panties rather than a bikini, but that didn't keep her skin from crawling.
"Well, darlin', I might be a bit more inclined to listen if you didn't sass and roll your eyes when making that little speech." Their boots made a hollow sound as he guided her across the wooden slats. Instead of leading her into the house, he led her to the porch rail. Surely he wasn't going to spank her outside? Before she could ask, she heard the sound of an engine. No! He wouldn't… but, yes, it was clear he had. Two doors slammed as Jake and Jesse climbed out of their truck and made their way to the porch.
"Just in time, gentlemen," Trent said as the twins climbed the steps to the porch and walked towards them. Sunny squealed when her Daddy turned her around and pressed her down to bend over the porch rail. "Perhaps after today, your student will understand that it doesn't take but a bit of disrespect to assure that she really is going to get her butt busted."
"Daddy, please! I'm sorry…" Three men chuckled and she knew she was about to be even sorrier but she had to try. "Jake, Jesse, you are right. I should have listened."
"But, Sunny, that's just it. You haven't been listening. Instead, you think that looking cute is more important than obeying the rules. We are both sick and tired it. No one likes a girl who's getting too big for her britches, whatever the current fashion is."
God, she'd wished she'd never made that snotty statement. "I know…"
"Finally, our naughty girl agrees she's wearing the wrong britches. Aren't these the wrong kind, Sunny?" Her Daddy's hand started smacking the seat of her frayed shorts, each fiery swat sending tendrils of heat over her bottom and down her thighs.
"Daddy, stop! I just forgot…" She was hanging on to the wooden spindles of the porch rail, looking down at the marigolds planted in old watering troughs. "Daddy, please…"
"I don't think any one of us should have to tell you again. It's actually pretty simple. Just two little words, little girl." He swatted her left cheek hard and then repeated the stroke on her right one as if to illustrate he was speaking of two things.
"Can you guess which two words I'm talking about?" Another two hard swats had her pushed forward, her hands grappling for a better hold that would ensure she not topple face first off the porch.
"I have jeans on… just cut-off, that's what they wear in the westerns on TV."
The horrid swats stopped and she turned her head to see that her Daddy wasn't looking at her; he was looking towards her instructors. Her face flushed seeing that both stood, leaning against the railing, feet crossed as if they were enjoying the show. When she attempted to rise, her Daddy added a bit more pressure to the hand splayed against her back.
"Not a chance, Sunny," he said giving her a glance before returning his attention to the other two men. "You'd think she'd have learned by now, but for some reason, Sunny thinks her attempts to be cute will end her spanking."
"She does, doesn't she?" We remember that from the time she was sassy even when bent over a hay-bale." Jake said, his brother nodding.
"No! I'm just saying, is all." Sunny should have known better.
Her Daddy pulled her up but kept one hand around her arm as he reached for the fastenings of her cutoffs. "Let me tell you exactly what you can do with these cutoffs. You can put them in the trash." Within a second or two he had the snap and zipper undone and the shorts at her ankles. She wasn't happy when he pressed her bac
k over the railing but extremely grateful he'd allowed her to retain her panties. Of course, her thankfulness only lasted a moment.
"Yup, not a bikini bottom, but again, what's underneath your clothing isn't the issue is it, little girl? Her heart clutched when she felt his fingers tucking into the waistband of her blue and white polka-dotted panties. "As I said, you may wear whatever you wish beneath your clothes. But for now, you won't be needing these."
"No, please, I'll do better, I swear I will!" She might as well have been speaking Spanish for her Daddy totally ignored her pleas. Her panties joined her cutoffs and his hand returned to swat against her bare bottom. "Ow! Ow! Daddy, please!"
"You sure will because if you go for your lesson again without the proper shoes and pants as all three of us have warned you, I'll be using a strap on your sweet ass. Now what two things do you need to remember?"
How was she supposed to think when her bottom was burning? Evidently she was taking too long as his hand returned. "Let me make this easier, shall I?" When another swat was given to her tender cheek she knew to give him the proper response.
"Please… please, do, sir."
"That's better. Jeans and boots. Not bikinis, no cut-offs, no sandals or flip-flops. Now, repeat those two things for me please."
He lifted his hand and when it connected with a crack another instantly following, she squealed "Jeans and boots!"
"Again." Two more handprints were added to the montage he was painting on her ass.
"Jeans and boots!" Smacks rained down on her bottom; so fast that if she didn't know that he had one hand on her back, she would think he was using both hands to spank her.
He made her repeat the words an additional eight times. "Do you think you'll be able to remember those two things, little girl?"
