Friday, September 19, 2014
Cure for a misbehaving wench...
It's time for a little hot OTK action this from this Old World tale:
After a murderous incident leaves the high-spirited Fiona to fend for herself, she is rescued by a handsome and secretive blacksmith, Joshua Kane. Falling under his dominant spell, the lusty red-head gives up her virtue to have his love, only to find herself often at war with the controlling man. To her dismay, the sometimes gentle, sometimes ruthless Joshua, has his own way of handling her stormy tantrums. The palm of his hand or the taste of a leather belt are always ready to tame this volatile brat.
The Barmaid & The Blacksmith
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It was late when Fiona woke the next morning, since it was nearly dawn before she fell asleep. Joshua was already up and out of the room.
Finding the sour smell of liquor lingering in the air making her stomach turn, she quickly rose with a fresh dose of righteous indignation rising within her. After dressing, she grabbed Joshua’s soiled clothes from the floor, stripped the bed, and then bundling everything together, she went downstairs. It was not her usual day to do the laundry, but she’d do it anyway. Perhaps the activity would work off the anger that had not nearly been spent the night before.
Downstairs, the two men looked fresh enough, sitting by a well stoked fire, drinking coffee. Charles was smoking a pipe.
“Yer late,” Joshua exclaimed, seeing Fiona emerge. She scowled at the remark. “But the sleep did you well, you’re beautiful as ever,” he added. Apparently, he’d returned to his usual good humor, nothing like the man he was the night before.
The fiery redhead gave Joshua a brisk smile before she moved toward the kitchen.
“Fi, don’t be rude to our guest. I’m sure he’d like to meet you. This is Charles Dabenow, an old friend of mine from London.”
Fiona curtsied as the man turned around to eye her. “Sorry to cause you such trouble last night, miss, ‘friad I was a bit overdone.”
“I would certainly agree with you there,” she snapped haughtily. He had a charming smile that Fiona readily dismissed as insincere. She could think of nothing else to say. “Shall I make you breakfast?” she addressed both men.
Joshua looked strangely befuddled by her attitude. “Please,” he said.
She nodded to the two men. “I’ll call you when your meal is ready and you can serve yourself.”
“You’ll serve us here,” Joshua corrected.
“I think not!” she answered boldly, just before she scooted out the door.
Some minutes later, Joshua joined her in the kitchen.
“Don’t sneak up on me,” she said, whipping around to face his exuberant grin.
“You’re still angry,” he acknowledged, amused by her mood, as if observing a young child in the midst of a temper.
“As well I should be, Joshua Kane!” She said no more, busying herself with breakfast.
“Do I owe you some report?” he asked.
“Oh, you gave me yours last night,” she reminded him. She wasn’t often a haughty woman, though now she was.
“But you’re not satisfied?” Joshua asked.
“I have no right to be otherwise,” she said, while getting a tray of biscuits ready for the oven.
“But you’re still upset. Let’s be out with it!”
Fiona turned and stared him down, not knowing exactly where to begin with her fury—and fury it was welling up inside her again.
“I was worried sick over you when you didn’t come home. It was three o’clock, sir, when you told me you’d be home at sunset. And then, you take your pleasure with me, give me no comfort at all, treat me as a servant, ready to do your friend’s bidding, while he’s destroyed my room, mud everywhere. I’ll take all of that, but I don’t like it!” she fumed, then turned back to her work.
“Is that all?” he asked.
She whipped around again.
“NO! I don’t like the foul way your breath smelled! Now, I thank you to leave me to my work.” She pushed by him to fetch more eggs.
The blacksmith had never seen Fiona quite like this. She was rather arousing when she was in a stew. Her cheeks flashed as brightly as her red hair. He supposed that she was likely right; he’d treated her shabbily. And yet, her behavior was unacceptable. Though he didn’t like tussling with an angry woman, he wouldn’t tolerate her being rude to his friend.
“You may be righteously angry with me, Fi, and that we will discuss as civilized people at another time. But now, lass, I can’t allow you to refuse serving my guest.”
“Oh, but I will refuse, sir,” she countered him.
“Still?” He looked at her surprised by the quick retort.
“Indeed, I refuse!”
Joshua’s eyes narrowed seeing that she was not relenting. “Perhaps you’d like a trip to the barn, a reminder on your ass of whose home you abide in? You’re not a haughty wench, but you are acting like one now.”
“I told you, I’ll not apologize for my feelings.”
Joshua’s gentle, reassuring calm was turning to anger.
“Then perhaps, it’s to the barn to teach you some manners.” He grabbed her hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked as she tried to wrench away.
“I’ve not made myself clear?”
He was finished with words, and before she realized what was happening, they were out the back door and crossing the yard on the way to the barn. Once inside and moving swiftly, Joshua took a length of leather from the wall to use as a strap.
“Bare your ass,” he ordered.
“I will not!” she blared, as she tried to bolt for the door.
“You will indeed!”
“Not on your life,” she roared.
He grabbed her arm, their eyes meeting just inches apart. Their fury rose in tandem.
“All right then,” he said evenly, “I’ll bare your behind myself. It’s not as if I haven’t already seen it.”
Dragging her kicking and screaming to a bench in the back of the stable, Joshua sat down. Doubling the leather in his hand, he raised her skirt to find her bare bottom; and while she continued to wiggle and squirm, he flailed the strap against her ass, determined not to stop until he’d raised a scarlet blush on her plump white bottom, and taught his bratty lover a necessary lesson.
“Stop it!” Fiona wailed. She struggled to free herself, but it was no use; the passionate fury of the strap continued.
“You can’t do this!” she roared again.
“Seems, I am,” Joshua roared back. “Teach you to curb your anger and your tongue.”
The strap hit hard, the impact making her burn everywhere. This was so much harder than the playful spanking he’d given her the day before. To make matters worse, he kept up the whipping, one fierce stroke after another, until her bottom felt as if he’d lit it on fire. She couldn’t bear another smack. Oh! But another she’d bear indeed!
He paused to let her catch her breath, but it was only so she could restore herself so he could start in again. The smacks continued until the color of her rear cheeks was a vivid red, and a blotchy purple where the strap hit the hardest.
This was as fierce as any whipping Fiona had ever had. She may have screamed and cried, but it was clear that Joshua wasn’t about to stop – not until he was ready.
When he was finally done, she lay limp across his thighs, exhausted and sobbing.
Gazing at his handiwork, Joshua was satisfied with the results. Fiona’s bottom glowed with a red fire extending from the top of her ass to her tender thighs. It should be enough to teach her proper etiquette, he thought.
“Now, lass, you’ll return to the house, apologize to Mr. Dabenow, and serve us our meal. You’ll not cross me again, will you?” Joshua pulled her to her feet, and looked her in the eye with his expression firm and determined.
“No, sir,” she replied, meekly. She snuffed, still crying softly, she was too stunned to say anything more.
Hearing the contrite nature of her response, Joshua rose from the bench and returned the leather to its place on the wall.
“I’ll use it again if I have to. Don’t you forget that,” he warned.
He waited at the door so she would leave ahead of him. On once returning to the kitchen, Fiona finished the half-done breakfast and politely served it to Joshua and his guest.
Just as she was about to leave the two men in the dining room, Joshua halted her mid-step.
“Fi!” he addressed her. “Don’t you have something to say to Charles?”
She turned back and blushed, remembering Joshua’s instructions.
She cleared her throat and finally spoke. “I’m sorry, sir, that I was so impertinent,” she told the fair young man. She curtsied politely. “I rather lost my head.”
Looking amused, the young man smile. Though he was not sure what had transpired between Joshua and Fiona, he could guess it was some drastic measure that changed the lovely young Fiona’s belligerent manner into one more gracious, befitting her natural kindness. He had to admit, he liked the results.
Fiona, meanwhile, remained in a daze. Her anger, while tamped down and put in its proper place, had not been entirely squelched. And yet, every time she thought of Joshua’s command over her, the breathtaking way he’d delivered the biting punishment, she had the oddest feelings surge through her. Ones she was not about to admit were intensely passionate. Oddest of all, she could imagine falling into the bed with the domineering brute, and that wasn’t an unpleasant thought at all.
Except (c) Copyright Lizbeth Dusseau, all rights reserved. May not be used without permission.