by Loki Renard
She didn’t move. She stood there sniffling to herself as he took a step back, folding his arms over his chest. He had a good mind to send her to bed without tea, but she needed to eat, and doing so on a sore bottom might be a decent reminder of how to speak to him.
Not yet though. For now she was going to stand there like the brat she was, her bright red ass on satisfying display. Sam rubbed his hands together, easing some of the sting out of them. His palm probably ached about as much as her little butt did.
He checked his watch. Fifteen minutes should do it. Then he’d see if she’d learned a damn thing. He sat back down on the bed, took a load off his feet, keeping an eye on her.
“Don’t,” he said sharply as she adjusted her hand, looking like she might be about to move.
As silence settled over the room for the first time in quite a few minutes, Sam got to enjoy the sight of Marnie’s shapely rear on display. She was a pretty girl. Very pretty, actually. Weren’t many girls like her out here in the country. Weren’t many girls, full stop. Might not be for long either. He wouldn’t be surprised if she packed her bags and left after this. That would be her choice, but he couldn’t have an undisciplined brat around the place. Horse trekking could be dangerous work, and someone who lost their temper and started screaming when they didn’t get their way had no place in it.
* * *
Marnie stayed very, very still.
Her ass was burning. She could feel her cheeks twitching periodically, little spasms of the muscle beneath her spanked skin as it reacted to the thrashing he’d just given her.
Emotionally, shock didn’t begin to cover the way she felt. She still couldn’t believe it. One minute she had been arguing with him, the next he was whipping her ass. Maybe she shouldn’t be shocked. He had threatened to do that, and it had been just like he promised it would be. It had been hard. And it had hurt.
She hated him. The way he’d manhandled her into her pyjamas then flipped her over so effortlessly and branded her with searing, scorching smacks that seemed to go on forever… she was stunned. What else would he do to hurt her? If she was honest with herself, she was scared of him, too. More than just a little bit scared. She’d never been scared of a person before. Situations, yes. Spiders, yes. But people? No, people had never scared her. No man had ever enforced his will on her before, no man had ever taken her across his knee and spanked her soundly. And no one had ever punished her before for being upset, feeling hurt and rejected. But Sam had.
His harsh “don’t!” when she’d tried to scratch the itch on the back of her head had made her tremble with fear and reinforced what a brute he was. If she had anywhere else to go, she would leave here, and go there. Aunt Elsie, her last surviving family member, had gone on a Caribbean cruise instead of hanging around Christchurch and fighting with the insurance company over her decimated house. She’d be gone for months. Marnie was all alone in the world. And to make matters worse, her bottom hurt.
She sniffed loudly. This wasn’t fair! The earthquake had turned her entire life on its head, and she didn’t like it one little bit.
Her legs were beginning to cramp and her arms were starting to ache from being held up in the air for so long. It felt like she’d been standing there forever. It was humiliating, being there like that, her bare ass on display to him. The stinging in her bottom hadn’t abated any, but after so many minutes of having a burning butt, she was getting used to that. It was the standing still in the corner that she was struggling with the most. But she was too scared to move. She couldn’t handle another spanking. Not after the way Sam had just laid into her, using what she was sure was close to his full strength to smack her bare, vulnerable ass. Did he like her like this? Sore and small?
“You can come out.”
She flinched at his words, emerging unexpectedly from the silence. She didn’t want to come out. She was safe where she was. He wasn’t in the corner. She didn’t have to look at him and see him looking at her.
Marnie felt his hands on her shoulders and stiffened as he turned her around gently. She looked studiously at the floor, and when he put his fingers beneath her chin, she resisted lifting her head.
“Marnie.”
She bit her lower lip. She was not going to cry. She was not going to look at him. She was just… not.
“Marnie.” He said her name more firmly. Her shoulders hunched as she pulled her arms from her head and crossed them over her chest, protecting herself.
“Look at me.”
She shook her head and kept her eyes on her toes.
She didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want to talk to him. What was there to say? Besides, if she opened her mouth now, for all she knew he’d start whacking her again. Or maybe he’d start smacking her because she wouldn’t look at him. She didn’t know.
“Pull your pants up.”
That was one order she was happy to follow. She dipped down and yanked her pants up, letting out an involuntary squeak as the fabric met her sore ass.
“Come on,” he said. “You need to eat.”
She wasn’t hungry, but she followed him down the stairs, still refusing to make eye contact with him. Fortunately his back was to her until they got to the kitchen, though she didn’t like looking at that either. Just reminded her how much more powerful than her he was.
Sam grabbed a cushion from the couch in the nearby lounge and put it down on one of the kitchen chairs. “Sit.”
Marnie lowered herself gingerly into the chair. Sitting was not comfortable. Her ass throbbed with her weight on it, but the cushion made it a little easier. She sat there silently, looking at the table until Sam put a bowl of rice pudding and warm peaches in front of her. She didn’t feel hungry.
“Eat.”
She didn’t want to make him angry, so she took a spoonful. It tasted pretty good, but she wasn’t in the mood to appreciate cooking, good or otherwise. She chewed slowly, keeping her eyes on the bowl of food. Every swallow was a dry gulp. She would have liked some water, but she wasn’t going to ask him for it.
Sam took a seat next to her, and for the next few minutes the only sounds in the room were the clink of spoons in old ceramic bowls. Marnie sat there on her spanked bottom and tried to pretend that everything was normal. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t normal now, and it wouldn’t ever be again. Eventually, she just couldn’t pretend anymore. She let the spoon drop into the bowl as her tears threatened to fall.
“How could you do that to me?” Her lower lip trembled as she asked the question.
Sam reached over, his large hand covering hers as she stared at a half-eaten peach. The touch of his callused skin was more comforting than it should have been.
“You were screaming at me, Marnie. You were melting down. Calling me names. Did you expect to get away with that?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know,” he replied. “So tell me. Did you expect that to slide?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I did. I expected you to yell back at me, or call me an idiot too or something… but what you did was so much worse!”
“Was it? You’d rather I called you names than corrected your behaviour? You’d rather I lost my temper and yelled at you?”
“No,” she mumbled as she pulled her hand away. “I guess not.”
He sat back in his chair, spreading his legs and lacing his fingers together between his long thighs. He was so sure of himself. That was the strangest thing of all about this. He didn’t seem guilty or sorry or anything.
“It’s alright if you hate me,” he said calmly.
“Well, thanks, Mr. Feelings Police.”
She felt the sharp look he shot her without having to see it. It made her tingle all the way down to her toes. “Go on up to bed,” he said. “Before you get yourself into more trouble.”
She stood up and prepared to flee the kitchen.
“Marnie… one thing…”
She turned, wondering what he wanted. His arms extended around her and h
e drew her into a tight hug. She was pulled against the hard lines of his strong body, his long arms wrapped around her smaller frame as he rubbed her back with slow, calming circles she told herself she definitely didn’t like, even as the tension began to drain from her shoulders and spine.
“I did that for your own good,” he murmured into her hair. “But I didn’t like upsetting you or hurting you that way. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He released her and she turned and made for the stairs, still sulky, but feeling a little lighter.
For once, Marnie did exactly as she was told. She climbed up to the bedroom and crawled into bed. She hoped she could sleep with a sore ass. Sometimes she had trouble sleeping, sometimes…
The moment her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light.
Chapter Five
Sharp rapping on the door woke Marnie up. She groaned, blinking quickly trying to see in the dim light of the early morning but didn’t move. Dawn had just broken, but to her it was still night-time.
“Marnie! Time to get up!” Sam’s voice was muffled through the door, but he sounded firm. And after what he’d done to her last night, she wasn’t inclined to disobey him quite so soon. Tomorrow, maybe, if her ass had recovered, but not just yet.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” she mumbled.
Slowly, the door slid open and Sam strolled in, fully clothed, looking as chirpy as ever. She hated people like that; people who looked happy and alive first thing in the morning. People like that made her feel useless and lazy when she wasn’t, not really. She just didn’t like mornings. And in her experience, mornings didn’t like her, either.
The bed dipped as Sam sat down on the edge of it. Marnie froze. Her stomach clenched as she remembered what had happened the last time Sam had sat in that very spot. It hadn’t been pleasant in the least. She groaned again. “What time is it?”
“Five-thirty,” Sam responded cheerily.
Marnie didn’t move. Instead, she clutched the sheets tighter to her chest, a protective measure in case Sam decided to flip her over and smack her bottom again, just as he’d done last night. What had he told her yesterday, at the barn? Something about dragging her out of bed and slapping her ass before sending her down to breakfast? She sat up.
“Are you going to thrash me again?”
Sam’s brow lowered just a fraction as he frowned at her. “Have you been naughty already? The day has barely begun!”
“No! I just mean…”
Marnie bounced in the bed as Sam stood up abruptly. “Five minutes, Marnie, don’t be late.”
She poked her tongue out at his retreating back, but slowly slid back the covers and got out of bed. Her ass was still sore and the skin felt tight. No way could she handle another spanking. She would be a good girl, for today at least.
* * *
He heard the floor creak in her bedroom as he sauntered back down the narrow stairs. Marnie was obviously getting out of bed. That was good. He smiled. She was so cute still half-asleep, the way she’d looked up at him with sleepy eyes, pink marks along her cheek from the creases in the sheet, her hair all tousled. She looked sweet and innocent and harmless, just like a kitten. And then she’d opened her mouth. She was going to be a handful.
The pipes under the sink clunked in protest when he turned the tap on to fill up the kettle. It really was time something was done about the plumbing in the house. It was far too temperamental for Sam’s liking. Clicking the full kettle into the electric base, Sam flicked the switch to turn it on. No doubt Marnie would want coffee, and he could do with a cup himself. He didn’t always start his mornings off with coffee, but with Marnie tagging alongside him all day today, he figured he would need all the help he could get.
He wanted to work with the young horses today, and it would be good for Marnie to watch. Maybe he could set her up in the yard with Taxi and the grooming bucket, get her used to horses slowly. She’d be safe with Taxi, nothing bothered him, and she’d be close enough to Sam for him to keep a bit of an eye on. He felt a bit guilty, throwing her into the deep end so quickly, but he had to get these young ones up to speed before the season kicked in fully. There were a few treks booked in this weekend, but it wouldn’t get really busy until December. He needed Marnie, and the young horses, confident and capable by then.
Sam looked at his watch. She was cutting it a bit fine—forty-five seconds to go. He didn’t exactly want to start the day off with a spanking, particularly not after being so hard on her last night, but he would if he had to. Marnie had to learn that he wasn’t mucking around; when he said something, he expected to be obeyed. When the season got busy, he wouldn’t have the time to be hovering over her, enforcing his orders. He had to be able to trust her.
With just five seconds remaining on the five-minute deadline, Marnie came clomping down the stairs. She’d tied her hair back; that was a good start. Long, loose hair had the potential to be dangerous around horses—if it got caught in a piece of tack and the horse took off, it could be very painful indeed. But that was about the only thing she’d done right. She was wearing the same short shorts again, and another tank top. Did she have no idea how strong the sun was out here? She’d be burned to a crisp if she didn’t cover up a bit better than that. He was about to open his mouth to chide her choice of clothing, when he clamped it closed. He’d promised her just yesterday that he wouldn’t do that. He’d also promised to take her to Farmlands, get her sorted clothes-wise. Dammit, he’d just have to tie Taxi up in the shade.
* * *
Marnie trailed the brush she was holding down the shoulder of the big brown gelding, Taxi, that Sam had tied to the railing. She’d been terrified, at first, standing next to a horse that was taller than her, but Taxi hadn’t moved at all, he just stood there contentedly nibbling on his hay net. Slowly, she’d relaxed, and rummaged through the tack bucket Sam had left for her. He’d pointed out the dirt crusted to Taxi’s coat that needed to come off, quickly showed her what to do, and then left her to it. Apparently, he had young horses to work. And from where she was standing, mostly hidden behind the gentle giant of a horse, she had the perfect vantage point.
She’d been out of bed for about an hour now, and she was still surprised by how well she was coping. The early morning air seemed so much fresher than normal and the grass was still damp with dew. And, most surprising of all, she wasn’t even tired. It was somehow nice, being outside before there was too much heat in the sun, breathing in the scent of horseflesh. And that surprised her, too. Yesterday, the dirt and dust had horrified her. The stench of horses had disgusted her, and the thought of being so up close and personal to one of the big beasts had terrified her. But she was quickly learning that Taxi wasn’t terrifying at all. He just stood there, totally ignoring her, while she half-heartedly swiped the brush at the dirt embedded in his shiny brown coat.
If she stepped sideways just a bit, she could see Sam working with one of the young horses. She had no idea what he was doing, but there was a lot of rope swinging going on, a fair bit of moving on the horse’s part, and Sam’s rumbly voice sounded pleased as he talked quietly to the horse. Her insides somersaulted; he’d used that same tone with her, once. And when he did, she’d been like putty in his hands. It had washed over her, infiltrating her, flowing through her pores, making her feel like the most important person in the world. It had turned her inside out and upside down, making her want to do scandalous things to him, and have him do scandalous things to her in return. Like what he did on the bike…
“How’s it going?” Sam’s deep voice interrupted her daydream and she jumped, startled. Beside her, Taxi didn’t bat an eyelid.
“Um, yeah, okay I guess,” she mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes. Did he know what she’d been thinking about? His timing was too perfect. She felt her face flush with heat. She had to stop thinking about that! Sam had made it clear that there would be no more sexual activity between them, and the way he’d rebuffed her advances last night still
stung.
Sam took the brush from her hand and stroked it vigorously along Taxi’s body, down his neck, across his ribcage, sending dust flying. “You have to put a bit of effort into it if you want to get the dirt out,” he told her. “Like this. See?” A flick of his wrist sent a clump of horse hair and dried-on mud flying in Marnie’s direction.
“Bleurgh!” Marnie coughed and fanned a hand in front of her face. He’d done that on purpose.
“Sorry.” Sam chuckled. He didn’t look sorry, though; far from it. If anything, he looked amused, seeing her choke on dust. “Here.” He thrust the brush back at her. “I want to work with Trixie now. You just stay here with Taxi, get yourself acquainted with him, be confident around him. Brush his other side, too. We want both sides clean, not just one.”
“Dick,” she mumbled, half under her breath, as Sam walked away. “He’s so arrogant!” she muttered to Taxi. “And so condescending!” The horse ignored her. “And bossy!” At that, Taxi snorted into his hay net, sending more dust, along with bits of hay, flying at her.
Marnie glared at the horse. “Great. Just great. You, too?”
If she hadn’t turned right at that moment, she would have missed it, and Sam taking his shirt off, the fabric riding up his torso exposing the best six-pack she’d ever seen, was a not-to-be-missed sight. He was spectacular. His bare abs were well-defined, enhanced by the line of dark hair that trailed from his navel, down the centre of his body, and disappeared inside the waistband of his jeans. Her mouth watered. At that moment he turned to her and caught her ogling, then he threw the shirt at the fence, pulled his singlet down to cover his stomach and winked rakishly. Her heart skipped a beat. Damn, the man looked good. Having felt the hardness of his body already she knew he would look good shirtless, but nothing prepared her for the rippling muscles, the raw power of his body that seemed even more magnified out here where he was in his element. The view in front of her right now almost made up for the dust. Standing at Taxi’s shoulder, where she could spy on Sam without being seen, she absently worked the brush in long strokes along Taxi’s neck and tried to force thoughts of Sam from her mind.
