Rebellious Bride by Lizbeth Dusseau

been
before; though he was clearly purposeful in his task: a long leather strap
dangled from one hand, and he held a wooden paddle in the other.
    Did he plan to
use both? they wondered. Both women shrunk back a little at the sight of the
fierce looking implements.
    “Darcy,
you’re first,” Aaron announced.
    The feisty
redhead stepped forward, proud as you please. She was not about to let Aaron
Barrow get the better of her. “I suppose you want my pants down?” she
said.
    Aaron nodded.
“You can turn about and lean over the workbench, but your ass will be
bare.” He laid the paddle and the strap on the bench so she could see them
clearly.
    Wasting no
time, Darcy, turned around and undid the button on her pants. Working the
garment from her hips, she revealed two pink mounds of flesh that would be the
subject of Aaron’s attention. Leaning over the bench as ordered, she grasped
the other side and bowed her head to the wood. It had been awhile since she’d
been whipped, but she knew exactly what Aaron expected.
    “You
know, Darcy, I never thought I’d have to do this to you again, but…”
    “But
what?”
    “I think
you wanted for this,” he said.
    It was
something for Darcy to consider, but she didn’t have much time for that.
Picking up the leather strap, Aaron let it fly fast against Darcy’s ass.
    “Good
god, that hurts. Do you hafta hit so hard?” she
muttered.
    Not honoring
her retort with an answer, Aaron began with a reign of strokes, the strap
landing with sharp repeat ed blows across the center
of the young woman’s posterior. From pink to red in a mere minute, the effect
was more than just on the surface of Darcy’s skin, the cocky woman was howling
like crazy - this was far worse than anything she remembered.
    “You
blasted sonafa …” she tried a rash of
swearing, but her words were gar-bled by the sounds of her own sobs. “ Goddam , this hurts!” she managed to blare at one
point, but Aaron wasn’t stopping.
    What was truly
amazing was that Darcy might have gotten away from the whole-thing if she’d put
forth any effort But instead she remained in her place, taking her punishment,
as if to do otherwise would be backing down from a battle she was proud to wage
- even though she was on the loosing end. She endured
it for her own sense of pride, and for her companion in this misery, Abigail,
who watched the terrifying spectacle from the other side of the room.
    As Abigail
gazed at Darcy’s redden- ing rear, it only reminded
her that she was would be next, the anticipation was not a welcome feeling.
Even more stirring for her, she was surprised to see that Darcy Greenwood would
allow anyone to wail on her this way. She suspected that Darcy and her husband
had some unwritten agreement that went back all those years. Perhaps even Darcy
needed to account for her behavior once and a while, and Aaron Barrow was the
only one to see that happened.
    The leather
strap smacked hard, the sound impressive, just as impressive as Darcy’s scarlet
bottom. Abigail thought that Aaron would never stop; the ferocity of the smacks
were beyond anything she remem-bered . The woman’s
whole backside was red from the tops of her thighs to the top of her posterior.
She didn’t know how her friend could take much more. And just as Abigail was
about to intercede on Darcy’s behalf, Aaron began to slow the pace, until with
a few finishing swats, he finally stopped.
    “It’s
been long overdue, Darcy. I sus-pect you know that
too,” he told the recover- ing young woman.
    She sobbed
very quietly so it didn’t seem that she was all that distressed, but Abigail
could tell she was, and so could Aaron. Standing upright again, Darcy put on
her proudest, cockiest bearing, as she pulled up her pants and turned about to
stare Aaron in the eye.
    “I
suppose I deserved that,” she said with a sigh.
    “And
probably a while lot more. But I can only punish you for what I know
about.”
    Darcy smirked.
“It’s a good