Danny’s Secret Desire

by Carter, Polly

  “Well,” he persisted. “What’s about to happen?”

  “I don’t know,” she wailed miserably, still certain she must be mistaken.

  “What do you think should happen to an extremely wilful and naughty girl?”

  Unable to think of anything to say, she tried to wriggle again, but again was thwarted by his iron grip. He put his left foot up onto a small log fallen by the tree, and she could feel his knee under her belly.

  “Well, I’ll tell you,” he offered, pulling her shirt up to expose her panty-clad bottom. “I’m going to spank you.”

  “No!” she cried aghast. “No, you can’t.”

  “I can,” he answered implacably, proving it by slapping one of her proffered cheeks. “And I am. It wouldn’t surprise me at all to find you’ve never been spanked before,” he paused, “Well? Have you? Had your bottom soundly spanked?” His big hand came down on her other cheek.

  “No, of course not,” she squealed. “Stop. Stop.”

  “Naughty girl,” he chuckled, slapping both cheeks again, this time in quick succession. “You are hardly in a position to be giving me orders. In fact, considering the position you are in,” – he graphically demonstrated the vulnerability of that position with another smack to each cheek, this time a little harder – “I would think you should be being as sweet and good as possible in case I get it into my mind to slip your panties down and spank your bare bottom.”

  “No!” Danny cried again with a sob. In fact, the spanking so far had inflicted almost no pain on her bottom, but her pride and dignity were in shreds, and having to bare her bottom so he could spank it would be a further excruciating humiliation.

  She wriggled again to try and escape his grip and flailed her arms behind her in a bid to protect her bottom and her dignity. There was no escaping the arm encircling her, however, and the hand which had been busy with her bottom caught her intruding hand.

  “Did you learn nothing from your lesson in obedience?” he demanded. “I told you to keep still and not wriggle. Put your hands back on the branch.”

  Danny couldn’t see his face but could hear the displeasure in his voice. Maybe she should be afraid, she thought, but she wasn’t. Not afraid, anyway, that he would do her any real harm, but concerned that he might decide she deserved a more thorough and severe spanking than he had seemed to have in mind initially. Deciding she really had no choice, she quickly took hold of the branch and tried to prepare herself for what was to come, groaning quietly as she felt him slip her knickers down to bare her proffered bottom.

  “You were warned,” he said simply as he ran his hand over the firm creamy flesh. “Now keep still and quiet. Unless you would like me to fetch a switch?”

  No, she wouldn’t. She most definitely would not. She didn’t know if he would do such a thing, but he had convinced her that it was probably better not to risk finding out. She had no choice but to close her eyes and pretend this dreadful thing was not happening. When it was over though! When it was over, she would give him a piece of her mind! Make no mistake about that, she told herself, as she felt the first smack on her delicate skin.

  “Ow!” The cotton covering had dulled the impact, but his hand now on her bare flesh, still a bit cold from the lake, stung! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! He was not sparing her either, her punishment coming firmly and steadily. She moaned, fearing she might faint, but he tucked her closer into him, steadying and supporting her while his hand taught her an increasingly painful lesson.

  “No, please,” she cried out as the relentlessness of his hand on her increasingly tender flesh became less and less bearable.

  “Hush,” he demanded. “You must learn what happens when you behave dangerously and thoughtlessly.”

  “I won’t ever again,” Danny promised breathlessly, crying out with each stinging smack.

  “No, you won’t. Promise me,” he demanded with another firm slap on each reddened cheek.

  “Ow, ow! Please. I promise.”

  “Promise what?” Smack! Smack!

  “Oh no! Please. I promise I won’t do anything dangerous or thoughtless.”

  “Promise who?” Smack! Smack!

  “I promise you, Jones.”

  A few more spanks rained down on her now tender bottom, each one stinging more than the last.

  “Oww, oww,” she wailed, sure that at any moment it was going to become completely unbearable, and she would have to fight to get away.

  And then it was over. His hand ran gently over her newly punished flesh with its rosy glow, stopping to give each of her firm, plump cheeks a gentle squeeze. Then he pulled up her knickers and released his hold on her.

  “Okay, you can hop up,” he said. “It was only a light spanking, but I decided to be lenient with you considering it’s your first. I wouldn’t try anything like that again, though, if I were you.”

  She stood up, her face, as well as her bottom, burning. That was light? He was being lenient? It was a first spanking? His words tumbled around in her mind.

  She tried to move away, but he barred her escape. Too embarrassed to look at him, she turned and fiddled with her shirt waiting for him to move. The spanking over, she found she was unable to conjure up the anger and indignation she had felt for him a short time ago. Indeed she was shocked to discover she felt alone, as though he had cast her adrift when he had removed his arm from around her.

  But instead of moving away, he took her shoulder and turned her round to face him.

  “Look at me,” he told her.

  Dumbly, she looked up, her eyes awash with confusion.

  “Sweet girl,” he murmured gruffly, pulling her into his arms and cradling her head against his chest. “Your punishment is over, beautiful. I’m not cross with you anymore. Are you cross with me?”

  Truthfully, she shook her head. Right at that moment, her bottom still a tiny bit tingly from its recent spanking, her head cradled on his chest, his arms wrapped around her, she felt the most at peace she ever had in her entire life.

  “Good girl.” For a moment longer, he just held her tightly to him, then brushed her hair with his lips. “Come, we have to finish getting dressed and get back,” he said softly.

  She clung to him, silently pleading not to be pushed away.

  With what sounded like a low groan of pain, he crushed her to him and kissed her hard, then pulled away. She clung to him, silently begging for more.

  “No, my lovely,” he said, shaking his head. He traced the outline of her parted lips with his finger. “I’m not going to kiss you any more, as tempting as you are, and as much as I want to. But don’t worry,” he added seeing her concern. “I fully intend to gorge myself on every delicious morsel of you from these,” he traced her lips again, “to these,” his fingers ran over her breasts now hidden by her shirt, “to this,” he traced a line down her belly, over her knickers and between her legs, “and to these, whenever you misbehave,” reaching behind her to cup her buttocks in both hands and grin at her squirm in response.

  “But it really is time we got back. You have work to finish, remember? And I have things to do. Come on. Quickly. You have to get dressed and get Bella.” He lessened the pain of sudden separation by holding her hand as they walked back to their clothes and horses.

  They rode back in single file again, Danny in front so a watchful eye could be kept on her. Danny was happy not to have to speak, so jumbled was she with new and confusing emotions. What had just happened? She had not been expecting anything like this adventure when she woke earlier. She felt as though she had also been woken up in another and quite different way: to new feelings, new experiences, even perhaps a whole new way of being.

  The man who had so swiftly and unexpectedly become the centre of her universe, meanwhile, was quite relaxed trotting along behind on King, whistling as though this was just a morning like any morning. If his world was as shaken as hers, he wasn’t showing it.

  Back at the stables, Danny dismounted and led Bella inside and into her s
tall. She began taking her saddle off, but after shutting the door behind King in the neighbouring stall, he joined her in Bella’s.

  “You go on up to the house and leave this to me,” he said, gently pushing her out of the way.

  “I don’t mind,” Danny protested. She actually liked seeing to her horse after a ride. It was a way of thanking them, but he was adamant.

  “No, I said I will do it,” he repeated brusquely. “And haven’t you learned not to argue. Or would you like another lesson?”

  “No!” Danny was shocked.

  “No, I suspected not,” he laughed. “So, you’d better get going. Go and finish your column. I’ll see you later to make sure you finished it and did it properly.”

  While he was talking, he’d opened Bella’s stall door and taking Danny by the hand led her out.

  “Do you hear?”

  “Yes, Jones,” she said meekly, realising arguing was pointless and he was right, she really did need to get her column finished and off to Sam. Besides it was his job, and, her heart exploded with joy, he’d promised to see her later.

  “Well, hurry up then and get going.”

  Was he trying to get rid of her though, Danny wondered? It certainly did seem as though he could not get her out of the stables quickly enough.

  “We’ll talk later, don’t worry,” he said again giving her a quick hug and a small kiss. “Now go. And don’t worry; I promise you’ll see me soon enough, and when you do, I expect you to be sweet and pleasant.” He stopped her as she turned to him and was about to speak. “Don’t argue! Just do as you are told. Get going.”

  Turning her around to face the door, he slapped her bottom. Her cheeks, still flushed with a reminder of what happened when she crossed this man earlier, blushed deeper and Danny decided to make a dignified exit rather than risk another embarrassing and possibly painful punishment. As she turned to leave, she stole a quick last look at this man who had just upended her and her world and, she knew deep within, had captured her heart and mind.

  Chapter 5

  Entering the cottage through the back door, Danny heard the sounds of late, leisurely breakfasters in the kitchen. Despite wanting to wish them a good morning and not appear rude, especially after her lack of appearance at the previous evening’s social gathering, Danny guessed it must be at least nine thirty and she would have to get a move on if she were to finish her column in time.

  Running upstairs her mind was racing. Less than twenty-four hours ago she had no idea Jones existed. It hadn’t even occurred to her that it was possible for a man like Jones to exist. And even if she had, she would never have believed how readily and completely she would respond to him.

  In her room, she went straight to the window wanting so much to see him again, make sure he was real, that she hadn’t been dreaming. He must still be in the stables, she thought, as there was no sign of him, and the horses hadn’t been turned back out into the paddock.

  Lost in the rural vista, she arched her back and stretched against the warm and golden sunshine pouring through her window. The whole world, including her, had changed: the sky had never been so blue, the grass so green, the flowers so bright. The air had never smelt sweeter, and the birds in the beeches and sycamores that fringed the circular drive and parking area had never sung a prettier song. As a newly-vivid external world filled her heightened senses, the image of a tall, strong man with eyes as blue as cornflower filled her mind.

  Any hope of a silent vigil until he appeared, however, was cut short by Sara bursting through the door on another pair of impossibly high heels. The pink and silver shoes matched the rest of her outfit: a flouncy, pink and white, three-layer mini skirt bedecked with tiny pink roses and a lacy pink cami.

  “You’re back,” she cried, throwing herself on Danny’s bed causing an array of chunky gold jewellery to clatter. “You were gone so long. You’ve been missing all the fun. Come on. Come and join the party. You haven’t even met the delicious George yet. Was it a good ride?”

  Not a horsey person at all, Sara couldn’t comprehend why anyone would want to get up early to bounce around on the back of a horse when one could, instead, lounge in bed with, at the very least, a hot cup of coffee.

  Danny smiled to herself. Missing all the fun? No, she’d definitely not been doing that.

  “Yes, it was good.” Danny tried not to sound too enthusiastic. “Very pleasant.” Pleasant! She had to bite her lip not to laugh at this preposterously bland description of the least bland experience of her life.

  Danny and Sara were each other’s number one confidante, and Danny knew she would eventually tell Sara most – not all – of what had happened on her morning ride. Besides, Jones had said he would be seeing her again, so it wouldn’t be possible to hide him from Sara anyway. And she didn’t want to. She was dying to tell Sara how wonderful he was: how handsome, how manly, how interesting, how special, how different—although the exact nature of that difference she would keep a secret between her and Jones. But, firstly, work called.

  “Well, are you coming down soon?” Sara asked. “It looks a bit like you are avoiding us. You aren’t, are you?”

  “No,” Danny assured her despite there being some truth in the accusation. “But I have to finish my column. Remember? The one you dragged me away from yesterday?”

  “Yeah, but that’s boring,” Sara sighed, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “I was hoping you would entertain me. Henry has stolen George to help with some fairy lights or something for the party tonight. Oh, and you haven’t forgotten about the cricket, have you? You’re still going?”

  “Crikey,” Danny’s eyes popped open wide. “The cricket! I had forgotten! Gosh, that’s even more reason for me to get a move on. Thank goodness the column is nearly finished. Just give me an hour or so, and you’ll have my undivided attention.”

  “Hmph, well okay,” Sara reluctantly agreed, getting off the bed and giving Danny a hug. “I’ll just have to fend for myself till then, I guess. I might see if I can find our resident superstar. I haven’t had a chance to fully impress him with my knowledge of his bio yet.”

  “Oh.” Jones had even made Danny forget for the moment about the famous Brandon Carlisle she’d yet to meet. “Brandon thingy? Is he here then? You seem to have gone off him. Has he not lived up to your expectations?”

  “No,” Sara was emphatic. “Don’t get me wrong. Brandon Carlisle is just as drop-dead, to-die-for, just-kill-me-now devastatingly awesomely good-looking as I said he was. Even more so in person! You should have joined us last night and you could have seen for yourself.”

  Danny laughed at Sara’s obvious exaggeration. “But?”

  “Well, to be honest, I think he’s actually quite boring. I mean, he’s nice and all that,” she added quickly and went on, “but he wears boring clothes and he doesn’t drink too much because it’s irresponsible. Stuff like that. At thirty-one! Eek. Old before his time, I reckon. Plus, he’s brought his ghastly witch of a fiancée with him, so there’s not much chance for me anyway, is there? And George is such a sweetheart, and, get this, he is as crazy about photography as I am, and,” she squealed delightedly, “he’s already madly in love with me, and he’s having an exhibition of his photos soon and he wants me to help and then he’s going to help me have my own exhibition!” She paused and pouted. “But now he’s busy and you’re busy, and what am I meant to do if not find Brandon Carlisle to at least perv on?”

  And with a last dramatic sigh she dragged herself, jingling forlornly, from Danny’s room.

  Deciding on a quick shower, Danny’s thoughts were again full of Jones as she stood under the warm water. He’d said she would see him again soon. Was he coming to the cricket match, she wondered? Forbes hadn’t joined in any of the activities whenever she been here before, but Jones was much younger, early thirties, she guessed, and didn’t appear to have a family so perhaps he would. Danny felt a frisson of excitement as she imagined spending the afternoon with him. Maybe he would even be at the p
arty tonight? Jones and her, in the garden, under the moon and stars; what could be more romantic?

  She luxuriated in the warm shower, her body sensuously rejoicing in being a woman as she ran her soapy hands over the breasts which she had so recently, and so wantonly, bared for him to admire and touch. Her own hand mimicked his as it traced the line down from her chest to circle the nipple and finally close over it. Her other hand slid over her belly and down to gently rub and soap the swollen flesh between her thighs. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to pretend he was there, that it was his hands voluptuously stroking and caressing her, preparing her for his pleasure.

  “I fully intend to gorge myself on every delicious morsel of you; these,” she heard him say again as she remembered how he’d touched her lips, her breasts, her belly, between her thighs, and then a hot chill coursed through her as she heard his voice clearly, “and these, whenever you misbehave,” as he cupped a bottom cheek in each big, hard hand.

  She blushed remembering how she’d allowed him to pull her knickers down and spank her bare bottom. Well, she had tried to wriggle away, she told herself. He was too strong. But she knew that was a lie, knew he would not have held her against her will, knew that he had understood she trusted he would do nothing to harm her, and that she, in return, would submit to any demand he made.

  As if surrendering to his will had left her with none of her own, her legs threatened to give way. She turned off the shower, wrapped herself in a towel and lay down on the bed. Banishing all thought, for a few precious moments she just lay still and felt: the deep pulse of lustful desire, the sweet heartache of budding love, and the powerful tension of ambivalent surrender.

  When a degree of calm had been achieved, Danny, still wrapped in her towel went again to the window. The horses were grazing in the paddock and Jones was nowhere to be seen. Resisting the temptation to go back into the garden and see if she could find him, longing for another dose of his presence, she resolved to focus on her work. She was, after all, now answerable to him if she didn’t finish and didn’t do a good job, and she didn’t fancy having to report that she’d failed.