Authors: Breanna Hayse
Tags: #cookie429, #Kat, #Extratorrents
Perl shook her head. “No, I’ve always been forced to go inside once it was dark if we were at home. I’ve never been to Boston. In fact, except for Manhattan, I’ve not seen anything other than my home.”
“I guess this whole adventure must be a little nerve racking for you then,” Hank commented, some sympathy starting to set in. “I remember when I first got to the university. It was too much for me to handle at first. I’ll try to make the transition easier for you, but you’ll need to follow my directions.”
“Thank you. May I ask why you go out of your way to make yourself seem so conceited and distant? You do seem to have a kind streak somewhere in you,” Perl said, trying to lighten the tension between them.
Hank shifted in his seat. “Yeah… well, don’t get comfortable with it. I’m just feeling sorry for you right now. Finish your meal.”
Perl smiled softly, sipping the sweet, fresh milk. She could not deny the attraction she was feeling to this strong, quiet, and somewhat cranky man. He made her feel safe, alive, and more of a woman than she had ever experienced.
Hank decided it would be best to avoid regularly traveled roads and only stop at filling stations and markets as necessary, confirming Perlita’s suspicion that he was serious about his dislike of people and any unnecessary human interaction. The sky began to darken as they drove through miles of deserted farmlands. Hank noticed the look of confusion on the girl’s face and carefully explained how the stock market crash had forced the loss of family farms and that even with the post-war improvements noted in the cities, many tenant farmers were still adversely affected by drought, economic problems, and changes in the agricultural industries. She had no concept of time when he told her that ‘things might take decades to recover’ and her incredulous expression confirmed his initial impression that she had been kept well sheltered from the rest of the world.
They finally pulled into an old, apparently abandoned barn and, after carefully checking around for other inhabitants, Hank began to set up camp. He directed Perlita to gather wood for a fire and raised his eyebrow as she stood still before him with her hands on her generous hips.
“Do you have a problem with helping?” he asked curtly.
“Mr. Billings, I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to pick up wood. It’s filthy! And there are bugs! Why can’t we find a lodge, like real people. And eat in restaurants?”
“Now you listen here, young lady. First, get used to calling me Papa. One slip and we’re outed. We don’t know if these pursuers of yours have sent out bulletins with your description and are promising rewards. There are people in these parts who will sell their own mothers for extra money nowadays, so we need to draw attention away from the fact that you are a city girl traveling with a man who isn’t a relative.” He continued firmly, “Secondly, you will do as you are told and when you are told. I have seen that hind end of yours bare once and I will see it again many more times if this behavior goes on. I want no nonsense from you. Get on with your chores.”
“I sincerely hope I heard a ‘yes, sir’ coming from those pretty lips of yours.” Hank glared at her, standing and resting his hands on his hips. Perlita stomped her foot angrily and marched off to the woodpile. Hank shook his head, returning to the chore of starting a fire and heating up some water, enjoying the quietness of the night and the absence of human voices.
He turned his head sharply as the girl threw an armload of wood at him. “Pick those up and stack them neatly. Then you best apologize for throwing them at me.”
“I will do no such thing, Mr. Billings. You are… No!” Perlita screamed as Hank came after her. Her speed was no match for his long legs, and he quickly overtook her and slung her over his shoulder. She pounded his back furiously, demanding to be put down and be treated properly. Hank obliged, dumping her callously on the ground.
“I will not put up with any more of your tantrums, high-handed orders, or uppity demands, Princess. I am trying to save your life here. Now, you have exactly thirty seconds to show some manners or I swear, I will use a plank across your rump so you won’t sit comfortably for the rest of this trip. This one will do just fine,” he said, slapping the flat, smooth side of a twelve-inch-long wooden shingle against his palm. Perlita’s eyes filled with tears and her lower lip quivered fearfully.
“Why do you hate me so much?” she suddenly started to bawl. “This isn’t my fault and you act like I wanted it. I lost everything, Mr.
illings! My whole family, my way of life—everything I’ve ever known. And all you can think about is beating me!”
“Twenty seconds,” Hank proclaimed, sitting on an old wooden box, tapping the makeshift paddle against his thigh. He was not going to give in to her feminine wiles.
“You are unbelievable! How dare you treat me so unkindly! I am not a child!!” Perlita yelled loudly, kicking the dirt.
Perlita snarled and, in a brief moment of insanity, spit at the man. Hank raised his eyebrow, slowly wiping his face. “Your time is up. Come over here and take what’s due you.” His voice was unnervingly patient and calm, causing Perlita to freeze in her tracks.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered as she backed away from him. “I’m just so scared and I feel so alone. Please, forgive me. I don’t know what came over me. I never act like this. No one has ever made me as angry as you do, and I don’t know why.”
Hank shook his head, beckoning to her. “Come to me, Perl. Don’t make me come after you.” His voice was soft and almost soothing, so unlike the loud racket she was accustomed to in the presence of her old world Italian family. Trembling, Perlita obeyed and held her breath as she came within arm’s distance of him. Hank grabbed hold of her wrists and drew her to stand between his knees.
“This is your final chance to show some respect and make the choice to mind me. It’s for your own good,” he said, stroking the hair from her face with tenderness that he found easy to offer her.
“Yes, sir… I’m sorry,” Perlita whispered, head hanging low. To her surprise, Hank wrapped his long arms around her slim body and pulled her against his chest.
“That’s my good girl. No more tantrums or defying me, right?” his voice was drenched with affection, once again surprising both of them.
“I’ll try. I promise.”
“Good. Now, across my lap.”
“What? But…” Perlita’s eyes widened in fear as she backed away from him.
“But what? Just because I forgave you for your childish tantrum doesn’t mean that you escape the consequences. Don’t tell me you are breaking your promise already. Alright, that's enough!” Hank’s low tone sounded impatient as she continued to move away. He was a man accustomed to having his orders followed swiftly and without question or argument, and her defiance was not something he planned to tolerate any longer. “Come over here, young lady—you're going over my knee this very minute.”
Perlita sniffled, shaking her head as a wave of heat flushed over her body. She glanced frantically around the dark shelter of the old barn, her thoughts swirling about in a panicked jumble of fear and desperation. She'd reached the end of her rope with nowhere left to go. Like it or not, she needed this man to help her. Perlita shuffled forward with her eyes downcast, mortified once again as she draped herself across his long, hard thighs and clutched his booted ankle to keep from falling on her face.
With what seemed like a gentle caress, Hank skimmed the thin trousers down and away from her quaking backside and was rewarded with a second breath-taking view of the young woman’s sumptuous knolls. The girl had a truly superb back-end—firm and smooth and easily the most spankable set of moons that Hank had ever laid eyes on. He grunted with satisfaction, reaching to pat the soft creases of flesh just below the upturned cheeks. Perlita voiced a tiny mew of protest as she attempted to dance her bare bottom out from under his warm hand.
Hank applied a light, stinging swat to the crown of Perlita’s right buttock, taking the opportunity to enjoy the manner in which her full rump bucked about in silent objection. He was pleased to see that her flesh showed no evidence of the firm spanking she had received from him earlier that day. He was even more pleased that those same impertinent young cheeks were once again bent over his lap, begging for her new protector’s strict attention.
Hank shifted himself into a more comfortable position, adjusting his legs under her and causing her more distress as she fell further forward, leaving her naked bottom even more fully displayed. Humiliation surged over Perlita in hot waves as she laid vulnerably over the thighs of the very large, dominant man. With the muscles of her bared bottom clenching and unclenching in the chilly night air, the young woman felt unspeakably small and defenseless for the first time in her life. A sob exploded from her lips and she cried helplessly as she hid her face behind her heavy black mane, knowing that her punishment was only moments away.
"Please, Mr… Hank. I don't want a spanking," she bellowed, all hope of escape leaving her as his huge hand rested comfortably over her shivering curves.
"You should have thought of that before you started in with your backtalk and then spit on me," Hank replied sternly, raising his right hand high over his head. "Now you are to lift that back-end up and stay right where you are. It's time you get what you earned, young lady."
A wail escaped Perlita’s throat as the long fingers splayed across her still slightly tender backside. Her bottom twisted and jiggled under the firm slaps that quickly turned her plump cheeks to a deep blush. Hank paused only long enough to pick up his makeshift paddle and lift it shoulder high.
To Perlita, the following three minutes were the longest and most vexing she could ever imagine. Hank focused his attention on the fleshy overlap between her curvaceous rump and her silky thighs, increasing his speed as he felled the thin board upon the girl’s writhing behind with renewed potency. He was determined to teach her a life lesson that would not be quickly forgotten. A gentle smile played across his lips as he planted a final six solid swats across her now crimson bottom, sensing she had finally succumbed to her discipline. He also could not deny the fact that those bright red cheeks were some of the prettiest things he had seen in a long, long while.
Hank tossed the board aside and held Perlita in a broken, sobbing heap over his lap. He was satisfied that her lesson had been well taught and truly learned. He allowed the girl several minutes to cry out her tears, and then helped her sit upright upon his lap. Perlita whimpered softly as she tried to find a comfortable position in which to settle her poor, sore bottom.
With a patient smile, Hank instinctively slipped an arm around Perlita’s waist to pull the scared girl against his broad chest. There was no hesitation as she surrendered herself to the man's care, melting gratefully against his shoulder with her face buried in the base of his throat. Hank encased her in a surprisingly warm embrace, kissing the top of her head and stroking her arm and back as a father would soothe an unhappy child.
“So, baby girl,” Hank purred, running his hand over Perlita’s back, “do you think you might be ready to behave yourself now and avoid a repeat?” His voice carried a menacing tone that clearly warned her to tread carefully or she'd be straight back over his knee for another dose of the paddle.
“Yes, sir,” Perlita replied, still weeping under her breath as she clung tightly to him.
Hank traced small circles around the nape of her neck, admiring the soft thick tresses as he ran his fingers through her hair. “No more defying me?”
“No, sir.” Perlita closed her eyes, feeling several large tears drip down her cheeks.
“No more talking back, throwing things, or spitting on me?”
“No, sir.” Shaking her head, she lowered her gaze to the floor, resigned to her future.
“No more thinking you’re better than anyone else or expecting to be waited on?”
“No, sir,” Perlita whispered breathlessly, “I promise.” She had never felt so ashamed in her entire life.
“Good,” Hank said, his expression clearly stating the unspoken threat that his hand would always be ready to administer another lesson to her backside. Placing a hand under Perlita’s downcast chin, he tilted the girl's face up to meet his. Hank wanted to kiss those full, red lips… to taste the sweetness of her lovely mouth. Instead, he kissed her forehead, knowing it was time to set some rules. “Now, listen very carefully to me, young lady. I don't intend to repeat myself...”
Swallowing, Perlita nodded reluctantly to Hank’s terms. After all, her life was in his hands now.
* * *
Hank watched as Perlita obediently helped with the morning chores, including preparing the food that Hank had brought along with them. He was pleased to see that the little ‘discussion’ from the night before had not soured her mood. In fact, she seemed brighter and more animated. He intuitively felt a shift in their interaction with one another as well, and wondered if she was feeling as attracted to him as he felt towards her. He was a patient man. Time would tell. The question was, did he want to risk loving again?
Perlita hated to admit to herself that, even with her still tender backside, she was the happiest she’d been in a long time. She felt cared for and safe, and the interest Hank paid to her was a unique and enjoyable experience. She was no longer the Princess Moretti, she was just Perl. He took the time to teach her how to make a fire, prepare a stew, and brew camp coffee. She was disappointed when he informed her it was time to pack up and continue with their journey, and found herself pouting at the rare moments when he relented and they ate at a diner.
* * *
“Are we almost there?” Perlita asked, squirming uncomfortably next to him. Hank glanced at her with annoyance. He watched as she clamped her mouth closed and shrank into the seat. She had asked the same question an hour before, for about the twentieth time, and had found herself bottom up once again. It had been a long trip for both of them, since Hank had taken his time to backtrack and leave false clues to throw any of the Piccoli goons off their trail. After a good six days, they finally crossed the Texas state line and headed southwest to the Double Bar ranch outside the town of Great Price. Perlita had, for the most part, kept her promise to behave since her last serious ‘talking to’ and the man was anxious to get home and regain some control of his routine, sans babysitting.