Authors: Breanna Hayse
Tags: #cookie429, #Kat, #Extratorrents
Growling, he grabbed her wrist. “Do not do that again, little girl. You are pressing my nerves right now and if you don’t sit there quietly, I promise you will regret it.”
Another string of Italian curses escaped her lips as she yanked her hand away from him. Moments later, she once again reached over to honk the horn at the car in front of them. It slowly pulled over to allow them to pass and Perlita sat back with a look of triumph on her face. Hank just pursed his lips. Soon, they were off the mountain road and traveling a straight line through a densely wooded region.
Hank silently pulled his truck over. “Get out.”
“What? Are you kidding me?” Perlita asked, her dark eyes wide.
“I said, get out. I warned you.”
“I am not getting out of this truck until we reach our destination.”
Hank snarled and walked around to the passenger’s side, opening her door and grabbing her arm. With one easy yank, he pulled her out of the seat and dragged her around to the open back of the vehicle. Without pausing, the tall man planted himself on the edge of the truck bed and easily dragged Perlita’s enraged body across his long legs, locking her firmly in place with his left arm around her waist. She screamed more curses at him, fighting to escape his iron hold as he tilted her head down towards the ground. She found herself, for the first time in her life, in the greatly undignified position of being upended over a man’s lap. Her shapely, round bottom pointed high in the air, making a generous target for the attention of Hank’s work-hardened hand. A shriek escaped her as the first, well-aimed smack landed on her right cheek.
“Let me go, you infernal pig!” she ordered, her accent intensified by her anger. “OWWW!”
“We will get one thing straight, young lady,” Hank said, his hand falling twice more on her squirming behind. Hank’s cousin Becky had not left any underthings behind at Nana’s house, and they had not stayed long enough for the ones Perlita had been wearing to be washed, so now she wore nothing at all under her trousers. Hank had to admit that he was thoroughly enjoying the sight of her well-rounded cheeks pressing against the tight denim. He also wondered what lay hidden under the thin material. “My word is absolute law. Despite your opinion about me, I am not a country bumpkin nor am I your beau, so you will treat me with respect and regard me as your protector and your new boss.”
“Like hell I will!” Perlita exclaimed, twisting to glare at him angrily. “You will let go of me this minute, you insolent swine.”
“That’s it. I warned you,” Hank announced, reaching around to the front of her trousers and easily untying the cloth belt that held them up. Perlita screamed as he yanked them down to her knees, instantly exposing the smooth, olive-colored globes of her delightfully full bottom. Perlita gasped—not only was this beast of a man seeing her so exposed but it was in broad daylight and on an open road! How dare he make such a spectacle? It was not decent!
Hank swung his hand in a large arc, catching the under curve of her left cheek with a loud clap, accompanied by an angry yell. His hand quickly returned, delivering a sound smack to her other cheek as he watched her flesh shake underneath his fingers. He was set on teaching a lesson and, with a grim face, Hank began to lay smack after heavy smack over those voluptuous mounds, covering them with small red stripes left by his long, steely fingers. He reached up to wave as the sound of honking greeted him, and watched as the car which they had bypassed earlier drove past them. Perlita’s face flushed with humiliation and embarrassment. She knew the passengers in that vehicle had received a good view of her already well-spanked bare bottom.
Back to the task at hand, Hank was resolute in teaching this spoiled little girl a lesson she would not likely forget any time soon. A volley of rapid, sharp spanks quickly covered Perlita’s bottom from her waist down to her upper thighs, coloring the area a bright pink. Hank stopped to inspect his work and, unsatisfied, he started again from the beginning with slightly harder and more concentrated smacks. The intensity and speed increased, turning Perlita’s bottom a dark, angry red. She began to sob out of anger, mortification, and fear and she continued to swear and struggle under the discipline being delivered. Hank instinctively knew that the stubborn young woman had not yet yielded to her punishment, and he intended to change that before Perlita was allowed to continue the trip with him.
Hank paused one last time, and then, giving no warning, he suddenly unleashed a flurry of at least fifty full-strength spanks to the fullest part of Perlita’s appealing backside. Perlita could only manage a gasp as she was caught unawares. Her arms and legs stiffened before she began to kick and flail uncontrollably. She reached her right hand back in a futile attempt to protect her bottom from the unexpected and very painful assault. Hank paused to capture and restrain her unruly arm, and then promptly recommenced. Perlita’s howls echoed through the woods as her efforts to escape diminished.
When he was finally finished, he held her in place across his lap to take the time to admire a job well done. Her right leg hung down limply, exposing a fringe of soft dark hair framing the palest pink lips he had ever seen. Reprimanding himself for indecent thoughts of what he would like to do with that amazing sweetness, he quickly pulled her trousers over her swollen bottom and stood her before him like a newly chastised child.
“Have I made myself clear, young lady? Are we going to have to repeat this again?”
Perlita sniffed, facing the ground and suddenly feeling very young and vulnerable. She shook her head, too ashamed to look at him in the eye.
Hank lifted her chin to force eye contact. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”
“Yes, you are clear—and no, you won’t have to repeat yourself,” came the sullen response.
“Somehow I find that hard to believe. Why are you crying now?” he sounded exasperated as a new flood of tears erupted from the girl’s eyes. She launched herself into his arms, her weeping uncontrollable. Hank uncomfortably patted her shoulders. He wasn’t much for affection except to his horses and dogs, but there was something in the depths of the young woman’s tears that made him feel, well, paternal. Hell’s Bells! He reminded himself that he was nearly old enough to be her father. Of course, it was only reasonable to feel that way, given the age difference and her petite form. Paternal… nothing more. Hank grumbled—he was never very good at lying, even to himself. He was attracted to the spirited young woman and he hated himself for it. It made him feel weak, which was not a characteristic that he tolerated in anyone.
Clearing his throat, he gently pushed her away. “We still have some traveling. Go on with you. Get in the truck now,” he ordered softly. Perlita submissively drew herself into the truck’s cab and positioned her tender bottom on several of Nana’s quilts, saying nothing more. Uncomfortable silence accompanied them over the next several hours. Hank pulled into a fill station and ordered Perlita out to freshen up and join him for lunch. She obeyed his orders without a word, slowly urging her aching bottom off the seat of the truck and limping slightly as she made her way to the restrooms. By the time she joined Hank in his booth, he had ordered food for them both and he informed her of such.
“I don’t care for this… cuisine.” Perlita wrinkled her nose as a large plate of meatloaf slathered in gravy with potatoes and corn, and a large glass of frothy milk, was placed before her.
Hank pointed to the plate. “You will finish every last bite of that. I’m not having you fall by the wayside from starvation.”
“You are not the boss of me, Mr. Billings,” Perl responded, to Hank’s secret delight. Her spark had returned.
“I think while we travel together, we need to get some things understood. First, like it or not, I
the boss of you. Second, I think it would be wise to avoid drawing attention to ourselves—just in case those people are still looking for you.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“To start with, I’m old enough to be your papa. For now on, you need to call me that. It will look much better for us to be traveling as a father and daughter, instead of… well… people of impropriety.” Hank blushed slightly.
Perlita frowned. “How amazingly
of you!” she scoffed. “That is ridiculous. First, I will
call you Papa. I am not a child and…”
a child. What are you? Fourteen?”
“I beg your pardon, sir! I am nineteen!” Perlita responded indignantly. “I told you that already.”
Hank’s eyes twinkled, pleased to get a rise out of her. “Sure you are, child. But Papa says you are fourteen years of age while we travel together. You will show respect at all times or you’ll be getting another hiding on that chubby little behind of yours, understood?”
Perlita reddened, sinking into her seat. The man was infuriating! He had her trapped, too. She needed his help and he was taking full advantage of it.
“You are not old enough to be my papa,” she grumbled under her breath.
“I beg to differ. Just turned thirty-six a few weeks back. Eat,” he reminded her firmly. Perlita sighed, picking at the gooey mess in front of her. Hank’s long fingers tapped the table as she hesitated and, reluctantly, she inserted her fork into her mouth. Her eyes widened.
“This isn’t bad,” she admitted, going for a second taste. Hank chuckled. He would put some meat on those skinny bones before the end of their trip, although he harbored no complaints about the plumpness of her bottom. He also might as well teach the young lady a few things about life in the real world while he was at it.
“Good. Now, let’s continue our conversation. You are never, under any circumstance, to go anywhere or talk to anyone without me. There are some unsavory characters about and I don’t need to be killing men just because they think they can take advantage of a pretty girl.”
“You think I’m pretty?” Perlita blinked, genuinely surprised. Her ‘family’ had always called her
but she found herself to be quite unattractive. Her overly dark eyes were too wide, lashes too long, teeth too white, nose too large, and hair too thick. And her body! She shuddered as she thought of Hank viewing her most hated part. Her bottom was too full and rounded, overemphasized by an overtly tiny waist. Her father had constantly commented about her possessing ‘child-bearing hips’ and lamented that he would never be a grandpapa at the rate she refused suitors. Tears welled once more as she suddenly felt herself missing him and Zio Franco again, knowing neither would ever have the chance to play with her
“Well, you aren’t my particular type of pretty, but most men would see you as fetchin’. In that exotic sort of way,” Hank said casually, sipping his coffee as he studied her blush. “Are you fishing for compliments,
?” he asked, snapping her out of her sad thoughts.
“Don’t call me that. No. I just… I never thought I was pretty to anyone but my family. How are you going to explain your accent?”
“My accent? Girl, I don’t have an accent, you do. If anyone asks, your mama was from the old country and left the ranch to go back to her family upstate. She recently sent for me before she passed.”
“For such an uneducated man, you are very adept at inventing believable stories, aren’t you, Mr. Billings? Yet, you can’t accept my story as true,” Perlita commented, her eyes narrowing at him.
“Uneducated? My dear, don’t mistake my ease of speech for being stupid. I went to Harvard and I am the district attorney and stand-by circuit judge in my county in Texas. As for my failure to believe you, I do sincerely apologize. You must admit that your tale was somewhat doubtful,” Hank commented uncomfortably.
“An attorney and a judge? That is about as inconceivable of a story as I’ve ever heard. However, since you obviously have no experience outside your little farm and some school, I could understand why it would be difficult for you to accept or understand my situation.” She looked around distastefully. Hank leaned forward to grasp her wrist, whispering as he spoke,
“You’re the one with no experience, missy, and I suggest you dispel with that snotty attitude. There are a lot of things out here that are more dangerous than your mob family and Tommy guns. The roads are filled with thieves, liars, and rapists. Do
leave my sight until we get to the ranch,” he warned her again.
“Ok, Mr. Know-Everything, just where are we going to sleep? There is no lodging anywhere!” she stated, trying to escape his firm hold on her wrist. What was even more discomfiting was that she liked his touch! The warmth in his hold sent tingling little shocks up her arm and had her shivering with indescribable longing.
“On the ground, girlie. I have plenty of extra supplies and I really prefer hunting to diner food. I’m not much of a people person,” he admitted.
“I never would have guessed,” Perlita sullenly retorted.
Ignoring her, Hank continued, “I am expecting you to help out, or you will be finding yourself bare-bottomed and across my knee again. I am not the type of man who takes to repeating himself, either,” he announced, ignoring her groan of displeasure. A quick warning glance in her direction brought immediate silence to further argument.
“So tell me about your ranch,” Perlita said, desperately trying to change the subject from her still smarting back-end. Hank’s eyes lit with the prospect of sharing his passion and he launched into a description of the ranch, the little town where he lived, and how he had been trying to get his grandmother to move back in with him so he could stop making the dreadful cross-country trips to the city, which were more time and trouble than he cared to deal with.
“Have you ever seen a real city?” Perl asked. “It’s glorious! There are lights everywhere, and music, and tons of people…”
“Been to Boston and New York. I was not impressed. It was too… loud for my tastes. As for lights, there is nothing more beautiful than a sky filled with stars. Have you ever seen that?” Hank asked out of curiosity.