Even though it was Saturday and she was not working, she'd wasted the day playing in the darkroom and practicing Photoshop techniques on the new computer the boys had bought her for Christmas. Before she knew it, Hayden had left her a message that he and Jake were on their way home, and since Terry and Matt were gone for the weekend, he would call out for pizza. Suddenly aware that she was out of precious time to save her bottom, she'd raced next door to find her tablet and try to finish her 'homework' by making up a bunch of numbers. After all, Jake hadn't said the budget had to be right! Just done. Now, she was stuck behind the couch without any means of escape.
"How was your day?" Hayden asked his brother.
"Not good. There is talk of a deal going down in Sector 7, and the DEA is antsy. They want surveillance on all the roads, in and out."
"Do they suspect when it's going to happen?" Hayden asked.
"All I heard was, 'any moment now.' We are all on call, so I need to stay close to the phone."
"Is Bay going to be called in, too? She's on the surveillance team," Hayden said with concern.
"I asked them to keep her off the list. She's too new in the department, and it's too dangerous. We're looking at a drug deal—and possible gunfire—and I don't want to worry about her being caught in the middle."
Baylor simmered with anger. This was her chance to show everyone that she had what it took to be a forensic photographer, and Jake was interfering with it! The phone rang and she listened carefully to the conversation, her heart pounding inside her chest.
"That's the call." Jake sighed. "I'll let you know any updates as I get them. Please find Baylor."
"She's around. Don't worry about her. Just be careful," Hayden said. "I'll walk you out."
Baylor heard them clapping each other on the back as they hugged, and held her breath as they left the house. She slipped out the back door and through the hedges to her house, grabbed her car keys and camera equipment, and waited impatiently for Jake to drive off on his motorcycle.
The houses were well insulated from the outside noise, so she was not concerned about Hayden hearing her car when she left towards Sector 7; a barren strip of land about fifteen miles northeast. She knew the spot fairly well since she had started exploring the area. There was a steep, rock covered mountain that provided a viewpoint for miles, and would allow her the perfect vantage point to set up her equipment and take long distance photos without putting herself in any immediate danger from the criminals.
Leaving her car parked behind an abandoned couch and pile of rubbish located about a mile east of her destination, she flung the heavy backpack over her shoulders and hiked through the arid desert spotted with Joshua trees and dried brush. Once reaching the small mountain, she began to scale the rocky wall to gain a better view. The rubble under her feet caused her to fall several times and bang up her knees and scrape her hands, but Baylor was determined to make it to the top and get her shots.
By the time she'd finished setting up her equipment, she saw a row of Harley Davidsons leading a large van coming into view. Using the non-reflective telescopic lens, she began to photograph faces and license plates, sending them digitally to her home computer. Another group of motorcycles and a second van came from the opposite direction and met with the first group, enabling her to obtain a complete photo-report of the exchange. The final pictures of the arrival of the DEA in full regalia, and a video of the bust, including the fleeing vehicles, was the icing on her cupcake.
Pleased with her work, Baylor packed up her gear and began to traverse back down the steep slope. The camera equipment threw her off-balance and, before she knew it, she was sliding down the edge and straight through some rotten boards that covered an old mine shaft.
Except for a couple of small cuts and bruises, she was undamaged. Her equipment, likewise, suffered only a few minor bumps. Cursing loudly, she used the light of her cell phone to view her surroundings, swallowing hard when she saw that she had just missed falling deeper into a dark, black pit. Carefully, she backed away from the ledge, uncertain of its strength and stability, trying her best to keep calm.
"Panic is the thing that will kill you," Matt had told her once as he'd shared some of his experiences. "Keep your head and you'll stay alive. Use the resources around you."
Resources. Cell phone. Baylor growled as she tried to find a signal that deep in the ground. None. Likewise, the digital camera could not send a video of her plight. No sunlight penetrated the shaft, and she knew that it was only a matter of another hour or so before the sun began to set and the frigidity of the desert winter crept in. The deep chill of the dark mine was already uncomfortable, and Baylor feared she would be stuck there through the duration of the night.
"Please, God," she whispered out loud, the sound of her voice echoing in the depths below, "don't let them lose me like they lost their mom. It would kill them. I promise to be a better little girl if You help me out of this. Please? For them, not me. For all of them."
Her prayers were sincere. The fear for how her boys would handle their loss was overwhelming to her, but there was a deeper, more urgent need to survive that took over. Whatever it took, she knew that giving up was not an option—she had too much to live for now.
Baylor huddled against the wall, icy fingers tucked under her armpits as darkness settled in. She listened above for sounds of life, but the only thing she could hear was the wind whirling through the empty caverns below.
Her stomach grumbled hungrily, and she thought about how good the pizza would taste at that moment. Hot, steamy, dripping with sauce and stringy cheese—piled high with Canadian bacon and chunks of roasted pineapple. Her thoughts drifted then to how the boys teased her about her pizza habits; first having to drench it in red wine vinegar, and then eat it 'from the top down'. She always left the 'bones' for last, and she and Jake would literally wrestle over the crust like it was the best thing on earth. She would be smeared with tomato sauce by the end of their meal, and need a bath filled with fragrant bubbles and a cup of hot cocoa perched on the edge of the tub. Her teeth began to chatter and she closed her eyes, wishing with all her heart that, just this one time, she had obeyed her daddies.
It usually took twenty-four hours before the SAR team was sent out, and she knew that with the temperatures dropping near to below freezing, and having neither fire or a coat, there was a real possibility of her not surviving before she was found. Her mouth was dry and her throat parched, reminding her of Hayden's rules of survival—never go anywhere without some food, water, matches and an emergency kit—all of which she had left in her car.
She turned the Wi-Fi off on her phone to conserve what was left of the battery, mentally kicking herself for not paying attention to the discussions the boys had had over the dinner table about using cell phones to make fires. It had bored her, like so many of their discussions. She made another silent promise; to learn from their wisdom and experience and stop trying to be an island unto herself.
That had been her problem all along. Her reluctance to accept that relying on other people and their strengths did not mean that she was dependent or weak. It also did not mean that she lost her own identity. This battle against submission to her 'family' had been one out of pride and fear. She trusted them, all of them, as much as she was able to trust anyone. But trust was foreign to her, so the trust she gave always had a condition. Would she ever be able to completely release herself in their hands? She would try. If she was given a second chance, that was. She had to have a second chance; there was too much for her to lose.
Her shivering began to decrease as the hours ticked by, and she felt herself becoming lethargic and unfocused as hypothermia set in. She fought against the sleepiness, knowing that it would be her downfall.
It was shortly after five in the morning when she thought she heard voices. Was she hallucinating?
"Help!" She pulled together the little energy that remained and yelled hoarsely. "I'm down here! HELP!"
"Baylor! I fo
und her!" Matt yelled. "Honey, are you okay?" he called down.
"I fell into the shaft yesterday afternoon. There's just a little ledge, and then a drop, and I can't get out. Help me!" She started to cry.
"Did you break anything?" she heard Hayden call down.
"No, just some bruises. But I'm freezing. I can't feel my feet." She could imagine what was going through all their minds at that moment. She would definitely have some bruises when they were done with her. And she wouldn't need her feet, because she wouldn't be walking after her 'assectomy'. She didn't care. She just wanted to go home.
"Hang on, sweetheart. We'll drop you a rope in just a second. Get a light over here!" Matt ordered. "I'm the lightest. I'll go down for her."
He slithered down the line and wrapped her in his arms.
"Oh Matt! How did you find me?" she asked, hugging the breath out of him.
"We traced your location through the computer downloads. The images helped us pinpoint the point of origin and the last known signal. You are just so lucky you didn't break your neck or fall into that hole. The drop is over 150 feet. Let's get you out of here. Put your arms around my neck. Ready up!" he called.
Baylor nearly strangled him as they began their ascent out of the shaft. She kissed his face over and over again, apologizing for not minding them and for being so foolish.
Once she'd clambered back onto solid ground, Hayden and Jake felt all over her, crying as they kissed her and checked her for damage at the same time. The SAR team stood silent, watching the exchange.
"If you haven't guessed," Hayden addressed them, wiping his face, "we're a threesome. If anyone has anything nasty to say, do it later."
"Why would we, Boss? She's a great girl, and she makes you happy. We're all for it," one of the men said, patting his shoulder and looking around at the others, who were also nodding. "Just promise us something. Spank the tar out of her so she doesn't put you through this hell again."
"Oh, we will," Jake said, gathering Baylor lovingly in his arms. "After we make sure she is okay. Terry!"
"I just got the message and came right away. Honey, are you all right? Look at me," Terry said.
"I'm fine. Really cold and hungry, though. Please take me home. I want a hot bath, food, and lots of cuddles."
"We're taking you to the hospital first to get looked at. No arguments this time," Terry ordered.
Baylor sighed, her arms wrapped tightly around her mid-section as her teeth began to chatter again, and just nodded.
***
"Over the bench, young lady. This will be one lesson that you will not forget in a while," Jake said sternly.
"Daddy? Help me," Baylor pleaded in a small voice.
Hayden shook his head. "Not this time, love."
"Will you help me?" Her voice grew even tinier as she looked up the stairs at Terry.
"No. In fact," he started down, "if it were up to me, I would be adding a plug of ginger to the mix."
"Matt?"
"Sorry, kid." Matt kissed the top of her head, and went to lean against the living room wall.
Baylor stared, horrified, at the large, padded sawhorse that had been dragged from the closet under the stairs and set up in the center of the room. Her eyes shifted to Hayden, then to Jake, and finally up to Terry. Each expression was the same—stony and unsympathetic.
"Oh, God," she whispered. "I went too far, didn't I?"
"Yes, ma'am," Jake said. "I am very disappointed in you."
She hesitated, then put her foot on the bottom bar to get high enough to place her pelvis on the cushioned top of the bench. "Do you have to do that?" she asked, as Matt quickly tied her ankles to the rings bored into the sturdy wooden legs.
"It's the only thing to keep you from being injured. That paddle is heavy, and if you move or reach back, something could get broken or seriously injured. Your bottom can take it, believe it or not, but your hands could not," Matt said gently. He tied her wrists to the opposite side and then checked her capacity for movement. She was completely restrained.
Baylor's relief at still having her nightgown on was short lived. Jake lifted it up over her waist, exposing her widely spread legs and stretched thighs. She gasped as he literally tore the panties from her bottom so that everything was in clear view. Her entire body grew pink as a shameful flush covered her.
"Before we begin," Jake said, opening up his bag. "I am going to plug her."
"Nononooo, Daddy! Please, don't!" Baylor begged, trying unsuccessfully to struggle.
"I actually think some anal punishment might be called for as well," Hayden added. "Where is that harness we bought a while back?"
"My closet. The blue box," Jake said grimly. He squatted in front of Baylor's red face and held up a large plug. Her eyes grew wide. "This will be going into your bottom. It will stay there for the entirety of your paddling, and for at least an hour afterwards. Any cussing, complaining or attitude will add fifteen minutes to its stay. Believe me, my darling, you will want this out as soon as you feel it penetrating you."
"I found it," Hayden said, lifting up a harness for all to see. He slid the leather belt under Baylor's tummy and secured it firmly around her waist. Two slender pieces of leather were centered in the middle of her slightly spread cheeks and then buckled to either side of her thighs. Baylor lifted her head in protest as she felt the straps spreading her cheeks apart to fully expose her bottom hole.
"What are you doing?" she asked fearfully.
"I'm spreading your ass cheeks so that we can give this naughty bottom a proper whipping," Hayden announced, snapping a tiny single-tail whip in his hand.
"What is he doing?" Terry asked.
"You didn't know that my little brother here is one of the most precise whip-masters you would ever know? He can knock a flea off a tick. That is called a cockwhip," Jake said. "Hayden likes using them for anal punishment. Watch how effective it is."
The scream that echoed through the house was undeniably one of pain as Baylor felt the flick of the whip's kiss dead center in the middle of her anus. The restraints prohibited her from either wiggling or clenching, and kept her vulnerable little asshole the perfect bull's-eye for Hayden's whip.
"Won't that break her skin?" Matt asked with concern.
"Not when Hayden uses it. She will be plenty sore, though. Possibly so sore that she won't be able to use the bathroom. You know what that means."
"Another enema?"
"Yep," Jake said, as Hayden cracked the whip a third time. "He is a total ass man, through and through. How many are you giving her?"
Baylor heard the word 'four' through her sobbing. When the fourth stroke bit into her, she released a wail of pain that shook the house. Hayden walked in front of her and forced her to look up at him, using the handle of the little whip to lift her chin.
"That was one stroke to represent each of us. Consider it a warning. Next time you want to be so defiant, I will double it. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," she wept. "I'm sorry."
"I'm up," Jake said. He studied her reddened hole, double checking for injury. Satisfied that she was intact, he massaged 'warming' KY jelly into her hole, eliciting a new round of violent protests.
"You just added fifteen minutes to the plug. You can cry, but no more name calling."
"She has the perfect ass to fuck, doesn't she?" Hayden asked, smacking a spread cheek.
"Later. Right now, the only thing going into her ass is this," Jake said, holding up a three-tiered butt plug.
"Damn." Terry whistled. "Can she take that?"
"She can take me, and I'm thicker than this," Jake announced.
Baylor wanted to die from the humiliation. Why the hell was her pussy throbbing? There was no way that this treatment, and the exposure of her intimate areas, could have aroused her. She whimpered as she felt the tip of the plug being worked into her anus—its wide, tapered head infiltrating her most intimate space.
"It's too big," she cried out, as it slid deeper into her body. She w
as unable to clench her cheeks against it because of the harness, nor could she avoid the impalement. Thank goodness Jake went slowly in the insertion, otherwise he might have torn her in two!
"Are you sure she can take all that?" she heard Terry ask. "It's only half in, and she's already stretched to the max."
"I intend to teach this little hole to take anything we want it to," Jake announced. "Bear down, Baylor. Now!"
She held her breath and pushed. Instead of expelling the invader, she swallowed it inside. She was panting with exertion and pain, her asshole feeling stretched to full capacity. She felt Jake's hands on her flesh as he strapped the plug in place to the waist on the harness, and then to a hook on the bench that was between her thighs.
Blinding tears of pain and mortification dripped onto the carpet, leaving a dark, wet spot below her face. She felt the harness loosen at the sides, allowing her ass cheeks to fold together as much as her spread position allowed. Her pelvis was still anchored to the bench by the device that stretched between her legs, and the unyielding placement of the horrendous plug.
"Let her rest for a while and anticipate this paddling," Jake suggested, ushering the other three men from the room.
Baylor wept into the side of her arm, her body feeling stretched and uncomfortable. Her arms and legs strained under the restraints, and the pressure of the bench against her bladder, combined with the plug, made her want to relieve herself.
"Daddy!" she called out, as the urge grew stronger. "DADDY!"
"Yes?" Both Hayden and Jake answered.
"I need to pee. Please, let me up."
"No. You are staying there," Jake said. "If you really need to go, we will get you a bedpan."
"Dear Lord, no!" Baylor shook her head. "How much more humiliation are you going to put me through?"
"Enough to let you know that you belong to us, no matter how badly you behave," Hayden said lightly, prying her cheeks apart and pressing down on the butt plug just to hear her protest.
"This is cruel and abusive. I won't stand for this."
"Not that you have a choice and can get away, but you are dripping wet. Deny it all you want, but you are turned on by this," Jake said.
Moving a Little Heart Page 20
