by Sue Lyndon
“Would you like to go fishing with me today?”
Hanna’s face lit up. “Yes!”
“Go put on a pair of jeans and meet me in the kitchen.”
He gave her backside a playful swat and she rushed out of his office. He then counted backwards from one hundred until his erection softened and his pulse returned to normal. In the kitchen, he rooted around in the refrigerator and the cabinets for something to pack for a picnic lunch. He decided on ham sandwiches, fruit, and pasta salad.
“What are you doing?”
He turned to see Hanna standing beside the table, and her appearance caused his erection to return full force.
One hundred. Ninety-nine. Ninety-eight…
The jeans hugged her shapely hips, and the pink fitted t-shirt she wore accentuated the swell of her breasts. A C cup, he mused as he recalled her size. 34C to be exact. The perfect size as far as he was concerned. A generous handful.
His gaze roamed over her body for far too long, but he didn’t care if she noticed. They were close to crossing a barrier, and even though she was young and innocent, he suspected she was smart enough to realize it.
“Your hair looks nice like that.” He pointed to her head.
She touched the ponytail. “Thank you.”
His heart lurched. Instead of shying away from a compliment like usual, she’d accepted it with thanks. It was a small step, but it was still a step forward. As she stood with one hand perched on the back of a chair, gazing out the open window, she didn’t even realize what she’d done.
He smiled and dug through a bottom cabinet for a small cooler. “I thought we could have a picnic by the stream today. Why don’t you grab an old blanket from the hallway closet?”
“I can make lunch.” Alarm touched her voice.
Ben chuckled. “I’m going to make lunch for you for a change, Hanna. Go get the blanket.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Daddy. He could get used to being called that. When he turned with the packed cooler in hand, Hanna had already returned with a red blanket neatly tucked over her arm. She looked at him expectantly while twisting her fingers together.
“Ready to go. The fishing poles are out in the shed. Worms too.”
Lady greeted them outside, tail wagging and tongue lolling from her mouth.
“Wanna catch some fish, Lady?”
The dog’s ears moved into perfect points and she barked, running circles around them as they approached one of the storage sheds. Hanna laughed and knelt down with her hand outstretched while Ben slipped inside the shed. When he returned with their fishing gear, Lady was sprawled out in the grass getting her tummy scratched by Hanna.
“Get up, Lady, there’s fish to catch!” As Ben expected, the dog shot to her feet and began to bark again. The word ‘fish’ always did the trick. Lady benefited from a fishing trip as much as Ben did. She liked her fish fried in butter with a dash of lemon juice.
“I take it Lady’s been fishing before?” Hanna asked with a bright smile. The wind picked up her hair, blowing her ponytail this way and that.
“Lady’s an expert. Aren’t you, girl?”
The German Shepherd barreled around the cabin to the beginning of a path they’d worn down over the years. Ben explained to Hanna that it led to a clearing that bloomed with wildflowers every spring. “The creek is right beyond the clearing.” A few times since her arrival, he’d gone fishing in the mornings and brought home trout for dinner. The first time he’d instructed her to fry up a fish just for Lady, the look on her face had been priceless.
“How long have you lived out here?” Hanna shifted the blanket to her other arm.
“Eight years.” He focused on the path, not wishing to encourage her to ask another question that might lead to more questions about his past. Ben had his reasons for living in Bum Fuck, Pennsylvania.
“Why?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why do you live out here all alone?”
He squinted as a shaft of sunlight pierced through the trees. “Same reason you left your home. I didn’t belong anymore.”
A vague answer. But it was the only answer he could give her. If she knew about his past, she might see him differently. Whether she’d feel sorry for him or simply be appalled by his history, he wasn’t certain.
It was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. At least not yet.
Chapter Four
The smell of frying fish spread through the kitchen. Lady sat impatiently at Hanna’s feet, tail wagging in anticipation of dinner. Ben had been in his office since they arrived back at the cabin with a fine catch of five medium-sized trout. Hanna had enjoyed their morning and afternoon spent together. She shivered with excitement, recalling the feel of his body pressing against hers as he guided her to cast the pole.
She closed her eyes, savoring the delicious flood of memories. His warm, callused hands on hers. The accidental brush of his stubble on her cheek. The unstoppable flutters in her belly. The pulses of warm delight between her thighs. What was that, anyway?
She put the thoughts aside, tucking them away to reexamine another time and concentrated on dinner.
Later that night, a knock on her door startled her as she was brushing out her wet hair. Ben had never visited her in her room, though it was located directly beside his. Her heart raced and her palms became sweaty. She threw the hairbrush on the bed, wiped her hands on her pajama shorts, and hurried to open the door.
“Good evening, Da—Daddy. Did you need something?” She peered up, slightly embarrassed over her stuttering of his new title, and was instantly lost in his dark, beautiful eyes. Often when she gazed into those depths, her throat constricted and her insides shook with a longing she couldn’t reconcile.
To want a man this way must be indecent. But she wanted him so much that she wondered if being decent mattered anymore. Urges she ached to quench plagued her day and night.
Constant throbbing. Constant restlessness. It was as if she was ill, but only his touch could cure her condition. How to proceed with her urges was a challenge she wasn’t brave enough to face. Yet. At least not without a sign of equal desire from Mr. Foster. Daddy. Did he ache for her too? Did he toss and turn in bed, losing sleep over his cravings?
“Would you like to watch a movie? I can make popcorn.”
“A movie? On the television?” She’d spotted a large television in his living room, but she hadn’t seen him turn it on once since her arrival. Though she’d been curious, she hadn’t toyed with it, even when she’d been alone in the house. Especially after her incident in town. She’d asked to go to a movie and ended up earning a spanking over her behavior. Her eyes fell to his large hands as the memories came rushing back. Those hands…
Firm, yet gentle. Caring.
“Yes, on the television.” A smile touched his voice.
“All right.” She beamed at him, eager to spend the evening at his side.
“My movie collection isn’t very large. Why don’t you pick something off the shelf?”
Not only was she going to spend the evening with Mr. Foster, but she was going to watch her first movie. Thrilled beyond measure, she followed him to the cozy living room. She inspected the movies lined up on a shelf next to the television. After several minutes of inspecting the covers, she glanced up at Mr. Foster, feeling a bit overwhelmed.
“There’s so many to choose from. How do I decide?” It was like she was back in the mall, staring at rows and stacks of clothing. Too many choices scared her sometimes, and she hated this weakness inside her. Would it ever leave? Would the world she’d longed to join always feel so large and intimidating? The world she’d left had been suffocating, and all she wanted was a middle ground that included the freedom to make her own decisions.
He grinned. “How about a musical?” His chest pressed against her arm as he reached for a movie. A puff of breath hit her cheek, and the scent of his soap tantalized her. He moved away too quickly.
“Sure,” she said, tryi
ng out an English word she hadn’t used yet. Mr. Foster said it was a casual yes, whatever that meant. It felt strange on her tongue.
“Here, let me show you how this works.” He knelt down to a black box beneath the television.
Hanna tried to concentrate as he explained how the DVD player worked. Press this button. Press that button. Wait for a few seconds. Grab the remote. Press more buttons. Wait some more. It was much more difficult than learning to use the washing machine and dryer. Bless his heart, he was patient and repeated the instructions three times until she was finally able to do it without his assistance. He promised to teach her how to use a computer soon too, saying it was necessary for her to complete her G.E.D. work.
“This was my mother’s favorite movie,” he said as they took a seat on the couch. His leg rested a mere inch from hers. He glanced down at her bare thigh, and she suddenly felt self-conscious over the shorts she was wearing.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“A little.”
To her pleasure, he produced a warm fleece blanket and brought it over her lap. He maintained eye contact as he tucked her in, smoothing his hands over the contours of her body. Her senses heightened as time slowed down.
“As snug as a bug,” he murmured, oh so close to her ear. “Say ‘thank you, Daddy.’”
Her breath caught in her throat, and she stared back at him with wide eyes. “Th… thank you, Daddy.”
Hanna tingled all over and wished he was tucked under the blanket with her. He could wrap his arm around her, pull her close, press his body against hers, and… and…
What then? Something. She was hot all over at once, sweltering in the confines of the blanket, yet she couldn’t throw it off and appear silly and indecisive. I’m cold. Oh, never mind. I’m really hot.
“I love your hair, Hanna. I must admit I can’t stop admiring it. So long, so wavy.” He reached out to stroke a strand between his fingers.
She became instantly lightheaded. Her lips parted in surprise, and for a brief moment she thought he might kiss her. Disappointment surged through her when he didn’t. If she was good, if she was proper, she would run out the door and back to the farm.
But Hanna wasn’t good and proper any longer. She was becoming a new person. A person who looked at the world with eyes wide open, even though she hadn’t seen much of the world yet. Right now Mr. Foster was a big part of her world. He was her only friend, and in a way he was her whole world. Loving, but strict. She thought she’d never want to be under the authority of anyone, yet she had never been happier than now. Even if he spanked her again, and a small part of her hoped he would, she would always treasure her time with him. For however short a time they had together. Eli had stayed two years. A month hadn’t passed yet, and she took comfort in knowing he wouldn’t pressure her to leave anytime soon. Not that she ever pictured him pressuring her to leave. Would he let her remain here in his cabin forever, in exchange for her moderate chores?
No, she couldn’t think of it. She wanted to see more of the world, didn’t she? To leave Pennsylvania far behind one day? To get an education, find a job, and secure her independence? The farm was only a few miles away. The proximity of it haunted her. It was a shadow she could only escape by putting a few states between her and the entire community she’d once belonged to.
The movie started, but Hanna had a hard time concentrating on it with Mr. Foster by her side. He ran off to make popcorn shortly after the opening. When their hands touched in the popcorn bowl, the frustrating pleasure surging between her thighs flamed and tightened. Every touch and every glance affected her in ways she was beginning to enjoy more and more, despite her confusion.
She squirmed as the achiness built, and her panties grew moist. She suspected there was a connection between the two—the aching and the wet state of her panties. This wasn’t the first time she’d soaked a pair of panties in Mr. Foster’s presence.
“Still cold?” he asked.
Oh, dear. He’d mistaken her squirming for shivering.
Hanna nodded, though she was far from cold. But he couldn’t learn of the sensations driving through her, or the moisture pooling in her panties. She wasn’t ready to be so bold yet.
He placed the popcorn bowl on a table and stared at her for a long moment. “Come here, baby girl.”
*
Ben scooted closer to Hanna and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He’d noticed her shivering, and he’d also noticed the flushing of her cheeks. Perhaps she was getting sick. Maybe she’d picked up a bug during the trip to town.
“Do you feel all right?” He placed a hand on her forehead. Hot to the touch. Feverish for sure.
“Yes, Daddy. I feel fine.”
“No, you don’t. You’re burning up.” He turned to inspect her more. Alarm and concern rushed though him. “When did this start?”
Her eyes widened. “When did what start?”
“The shivering. The fever.” He placed the back of his hand to her head again. Definitely feverish. Her illness roused his protective side once more. He would take care of her. He’d make sure she got better.
“I’m not shivering and I don’t have a fever.”
He arched an eyebrow, not quite believing. He pulled the blanket away and frowned. Sweat glistened on her arms and dampened her shirt. “I don’t like being lied to, Hanna. I can see that you’re feeling sick. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not sick and I would appreciate you leaving me alone. Can we please just watch the movie?”
In response to her agitation, he grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. “No.” His voice was firm. “Stay here and don’t move. I’m going to find a thermometer.”
Annoyance flashed over her features and she crossed her arms. Though he was worried for her health, he almost grinned at her indignant display. She was behaving like a naughty little girl. If she didn’t check her attitude, she’d find herself over her daddy’s lap getting her bare bottom smacked.
The digital thermometer he stored in his bathroom was dead. He doubted he had the correct battery to replace it, so he grabbed a basic oral thermometer, knowing it would work just fine—if he could get Hanna to sit still for three minutes.
When he returned to the living room, she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The blanket rested in the middle of the floor, as if she’d dropped it while making a hasty escape.
“Hanna!” Irritated over her disobedience, he stalked to her bedroom.
“I’m not sick, Mr. Foster. Please go away.”
“I told you to stay on the couch, young lady. And that’s Daddy to you, not Mr. Foster. Do you want to be in trouble, baby girl?”
“I told you to leave me alone.”
His temper rose at her words. “I’m coming in now,” he called. He turned the knob, thankful it didn’t have a lock on it. There wasn’t any use for locks in the house when he lived alone.
Hanna glared at him from the bed, and her startled eyes followed him as he approached. She scooted under the sheets and yanked the covers up to her neck, shaking her head back and forth in protest.
“I’m going to take your temperature and I would appreciate your cooperation. No more running away.” He held up the thermometer. “This needs to go under your tongue for three minutes.”
She shook her head adamantly. Damn, she wasn’t going to make this easy. He grabbed her chin and pressed the tip of the thermometer between her lips. She jerked back and tried to scramble off the bed.
“Hanna,” he warned, circling an arm around her waist. “If I have to spank you to make you calm down, I won’t hesitate to do it.”
She froze. “I am not sick. I know I don’t have a fever.”
“Fine. Humor me then and open your mouth.” God, he wanted to tell her to open her mouth to receive something else, but he couldn’t think about that right now. Why did her lips have to be so full and pink, so goddamn inviting?
“I will not.” She struggled against his hold, pushing down
on his arm.
Ben laid the thermometer on the nightstand and pulled Hanna over his lap. He’d had enough of her arguing and disobedience. She was under his roof, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t warned her what would happen if she didn’t behave. She’d also agreed to his discipline after her first spanking—a spanking she’d asked for.
He covered her legs with one of his to prevent her kicking. In a matter of seconds, her flailing hands were captured and pressed to the small of her back. She was so little it wasn’t hard to trap her, though to her credit she did put up a good fight. Her pajama shorts rode up as she squirmed, and he placed a volley of slaps to her exposed upper thighs.
“I believe the rule in this house is that naughty girls get spanked on their bare bottoms,” he said, yanking down her shorts and panties.
“No, Daddy! Please don’t!”
Ignoring her cries, he cupped his palm and delivered over a dozen swift smacks, spreading the punishment out evenly between both her cheeks. The sight of her reddening under his hand was exquisite. He couldn’t deny that he loved punishing her, loved to exercise his authority over her. Not because he was cruel and wished to cause her pain, but because he cared about her and wished to provide her with guidance. He couldn’t help that the act of spanking her bare bottom was erotic, though he doubted she viewed it as anything but plain punishment.
He paused to rub her cheeks when she calmed a bit, her useless kicks and squirms ceasing. Her breaths came ragged and rough, but he didn’t think she was crying yet. If he had to take her to that place to secure her obedience, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He’d promised to give her what she needed, and that’s what he planned to do right now, even though she might not appreciate it yet.
“Are you ready to be a good girl?”
She didn’t utter a word, but her silence spoke of anger. His baby girl needed more spanking.
“All right then. I can see more punishment is in order.” He whacked her bare bottom cheeks as she continued to squirm. He kept spanking until she was gasping for breath and promising to be a good girl. He slid her off his lap, and she immediately turned over in the bed, struggling to pull up her panties and shorts. Confusion played across her face, and her lips formed in a prominent pout.