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"Yes, Sir," she whispered. "May I ask you a question, Sir?"
"You may."
"That spanking, is that something you'll be doing often?"
"Obviously that's entirely up to you," he replied, releasing her hair. "If you require maintenance, then yes, but that's a path we've not even begun to travel."
"You mean, if we end up together?"
"That's exactly what I mean. Anything else?"
"No, Sir."
Stepping aside, he picked up the rod and tapped the chair.
"Bend over, hold the edges of the seat, arch your back and close your legs."
Leaning forward, filled with dread, she followed his instructions.
"Remember what I said. If this is too much, just tell me."
"Yes, Sir."
"Do you think schemes and manipulations are an appropriate way to get what you want?"
"Not anymore, Sir."
He smiled. He'd expected a simple, No, Sir, but instead she'd reminded him there was nothing simple about her.
"Your bottom is sore, isn't it, Brittany?"
"Yes, Sir, very."
"Stay as you are and think about your conniving ways. You must also consider how you put yourself at risk with a complete stranger, a man who had already proven to be of dubious character. When I return my rod will teach you just how badly I view these things."
His words sent goosebumps popping across her skin. Her eyes followed him as he moved away, took her bag from the armchair and sat down. She recalled how intensely she'd been attracted to him the moment she'd seen him walking up the gangplank. His confident bearing and squared shoulders had suggested an accomplished man, one who tackled life's challenges with aplomb. For many hours she'd hoped and prayed they'd spend time together. Now her wish had been granted. But she never, not in her wildest dreams, not even after reading Emily's Education, thought she would end up with a stinging crimson backside, holding the seat of a chair, waiting to be punished with a nasty rod. As he settled she quickly averted her eyes. He hadn't forbidden her to look at him, but she wasn't about to take any chances.
Tilting his head to the side, Duncan admired his handiwork, then feasted his eyes on the beautiful, bratty young woman. The craving for discipline and control lived inside her submissive soul, but it was a craving she hadn't fully understood. She was beginning to, but whether or not she would last twenty-four hours remained to be seen. His thoughts shifted to her sentence. The cane, or in this case, the thin polished wood doing the job of a cane, was not to be taken lightly. Three swishes didn't seem enough, and six would be overly harsh. Finally deciding on four, delivered quickly, he focused his attention on Brittany to wait for the subtle signal that she was ready to proceed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
While Duncan had been ruminating, Brittany had been wondering why she could so easily ignore her warning voice before embarking on one of her schemes. She often suffered terrible guilt after outwitting some unsuspecting soul, but she knew she'd never be able to pull anything over on Duncan again. He wasn't just smarter than she and would see it coming, in the unlikely event she was able to pull the wool over his eyes, she'd end up confessing her sins. The result would be a very sore backside, and he probably had other methods of discipline besides turning her bottom the color of a ripe tomato. But the question would have to wait. She was supposed to be thinking about her sins.
Her mind wandered to the scene at the bar, and it occurred to her if something bad had happened, she could have pointed the finger at Duncan, blaming him for upsetting her and causing her to head there to drown her sorrows. Though it had been her choice to meet up with Cooper, she could almost hear the defense. She frowned at the twisted logic, but her hands hurt, and she realized her fingers had been clenched around the chair. Taking a deep breath and letting them fall loose, she unwittingly sent Duncan the signal for which he'd been waiting.
He caught it, and a slight smile curled the edges of his lips. Rising from the chair, rod in hand, he moved forward.
"This will not be pleasant," he warned, "a
nd remember, you can tell me if it's too much."
"Yes, Sir, but I won't, Sir."
"You will receive four cuts, two for your schemes, and two for being so foolish as to call Cooper Cross. You wanted to get out of the cabin and have a drink, fine, but you went too far. Not only that, I suspect you were hoping I'd see you with him. Were you, Brittany?"
"Not consciously, no, Sir."
"Good answer. We often act on a subconscious level, and I believe you. The four cuts will be delivered with a count of three between each. Please refrain from shouting out. You may stamp your foot, but you will not take your hands from the chair. Repeat that please."
