Ansel's Mountain

Ansel’s Mountain By

Reesa Roberts

Ansel’s Mountain By

Reesa Roberts A Newsite Web Services Book Published by arrangement with the author

All rights reserved. Copyright 2008 © by Reesa Roberts This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, by mimeograph or any other means, without permission of the author or Newsite Web Services, LLC Published by Newsite Web Services, LLC P.O. Box 1286, Loganville, Georgia 30052 USA [email protected] disciplineanddesire.com

Notices Ansel’s Mountain is a work of complete fiction. No character in the book is meant to represent any real person, living or dead. Ansel’s Mountain contains sexual and spanking fantasies. In real life, always practice safe sex.

Chapter One

Kiria skillfully added yellow highlights to the wildflower leaves in the foreground of her canvas. With a critical eye, she stepped back and compared the glistening acrylic landscape to the natural view before her. The daisies didn’t look quite bright enough, and she dipped a stippling brush into her palette’s titanium white as a mild breeze tickled the back of her neck. Sitting in this sloping mountain meadow had been a wonderful idea, she thought, congratulating herself on her ingenuity. Surely no one had ever painted this scene before. It probably wasn’t often that anyone even climbed up here, let alone crossed the barbed wire fence emblazoned with the words, “Private property: Trespassers will be prosecuted.” Kiria had never purposefully broken the law before, but the spectacular view she’d glimpsed from the highway had been irresistible. She’d parked her car in the grass beside the emergency lane, hiked for thirty minutes, and climbed a steep, rocky incline to get here. She smiled in satisfaction as she looked over the painting one last time. With great care, she set the canvas into her paint box and twisted the screws into the wooden frame, securing it in place before closing the protective lid. Returning her tools to their respective slots, she then folded up her easel and aluminum-framed chair. All of these items fit

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neatly into her backpack, which was thrown easily over one shoulder. Blinking into the bright mid-morning sunlight, she began the trek back towards the rugged ridge she’d scaled earlier. It was a warm, beautiful day, the kind that was made for lazing in the sun and watching the clouds float by. Although she wanted to stay longer and enjoy it, she knew she didn’t have any right to be here. She should get back to her car as soon as possible. As she gazed across the meadow, the bordering forest of oak, elm and maple hardwoods beckoned to her. Their branches waved gently in the breeze and she could hear the chatter of squirrels through the rustling leaves. She spotted three of the clever little creatures chasing each other up an oak’s wide trunk, only to leap to a nearby pine bough, scrabbling frantically for a firm purchase. Smiling at their antics, she stopped to watch for just a moment. The cool, inviting shade drew Kiria forward again as she wiped a drop of sweat from her brow. She skirted around a thicket of briars and then looked up to see a man near the edge of the forest walking briskly toward her, his long legs slicing through the knee-high grass like butter. Cursing silently, she quickly glanced around. There was nowhere to run or hide. She was standing clearly out in the open as he advanced, with nothing between them but nature’s overgrown carpet. Kiria backed away slowly, watching the man warily. Tall and rugged-looking, his biceps bulged beneath the sleeves of a plain black tee-shirt. He held a rifle in one hand, which stood out starkly against his light khaki jeans. She felt a tremor of fear run down her spine as the distance narrowed, and she squinted to make out his facial features. Intimidation then gave way to shock as she recognized the incredibly handsome visage of Ansel White, the local network’s wildlife narrator. With an

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overwhelming surge of excitement, she threw down her backpack and pulled her hair out of its ponytail, shaking it loose to fall in shiny, golden-brown waves down her back. She cursed herself for not putting on makeup that morning, and bit her lips for color. Glancing down at her clothing, she hastily rearranged the hem of her shirt. It fell smoothly just above the top of her low, hip-riding jeans, showing off her new belly button ring. Her shirt’s neckline was cut low, framing the swell of her breasts. A silver eagle dangling from a thin chain nestled in her cleavage. She smiled widely, her even white teeth—that she meticulously bleached every Sunday night—flashing in the sun. Kiria was about to meet Ansel White, whose Saturday morning show enticed even her mother to drool over its star and inadvertently learn about wildlife! Scanning the immediate area for a camera crew, she wondered if they might even be filming right now! She held her breath as he stopped short several feet away from her, and they stared at each other in silence for an interminable moment. Kiria’s heart pounded against her eardrums. She couldn’t think of anything to say! What did one say to a celebrity, anyway? He was even more impressive in person than on camera, his cerulean blue eyes glinting in the sun beneath dark, expressive brows. She gazed guilelessly up into his angry expression. “Mr. White!” she finally breathed, feeling a bit faint. “I can’t believe it’s you! Oh, I love your show, Mr. White!” Ansel White ignored the compliment, propped his rifle butt against the ground, and gazed sternly down at her. “What are you doing on my property?” he growled. His forbidding tone was unfortunately lost on the star-struck girl before him. “I was painting a canvas! Could I have your autograph, Mr. White? I have a pen here…” Kiria dropped to her knees and hastily unzipped her backpack, rummaging about in its side pocket.

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“No.” His gruff reply didn’t register, though, as her fingers closed triumphantly around a ballpoint pen. She jumped back up, holding it out to him. “I don’t seem to have any paper! Would you sign my backpack, then? This is so exciting to meet you up here! I can’t wait to tell my mother! She won’t believe it!” Kiria picked up the backpack, still pointing the pen toward him with her other hand. Ansel frowned and took it, but then grasped her hand, turning to walk back toward the forest. Kiria was easily led along behind him, hurrying to keep up. He was going to sit down somewhere and sign her backpack! She was holding hands with Ansel White! The dry heat of his palm against her cool one sent waves of pleasure to her brain, and she could think of nothing else as they quickly crossed the meadow. Leading her past the first few trees, Ansel stopped beside a huge log, dropped her hand, and sat down. Kiria held out her backpack to him, giving him a brilliant smile as he took it from her. Instead of writing on it, though, he laid it down on the ground, dropping her pen on top of it. The unexpected action finally broke the spell that bound her. Why wasn’t he signing her backpack? She stood frozen in place before him, arms hanging limply at her sides. “Um… Mr. White, aren’t you going to sign it for me?” she asked, beginning to notice that he didn’t appear to be at all happy to meet her. In fact, he looked a bit angry. “No, I’m not. Now, if you can stop gushing long enough to understand simple English, what are you doing on my property?” His scathing sarcasm was like a slap in the face. Kiria stared at him in sudden awareness of the situation. She’d trespassed on his property, and he was rightfully angry. Then she’d fawned over him like a senseless idiot while he’d tried to confront her with her crime. Swallowing hard, she backed up a

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step. “Um… uh, sir… I saw the view from the highway, and I hiked up here to paint it. It was such a beautiful spot, I just couldn’t resist...” Did his frown relax just a little? “Didn’t you see the private property signs?” “Signs?” she repeated dumbly, staring down at his impossibly broad chest. “Y-yes… I did see some signs...” She blinked hard, her mind rapidly searching for a way to get out of this. “But… but I can’t read,” she embellished. “That’s ridiculous.” His tone was more matterof-fact than angry and she dared to glance at him. “No, really! I have a learning disorder, and I can’t even read the newspaper!” She watched him cock one eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth twitched. Encouraged, Kiria continued, hoping she looked as pitiful as she felt. “I was in Special-Ed for years, and I finally learned to read little words like dog and cat, but that’s about it.” Ansel stared silently at her until she broke eye contact and looked down at her feet, stirring the pine needles around with the toe of her new Sketchers sneaker. Finally, he asked, “Why do you carry a pen?” “So I can ask people to write things down for me,” she quickly answered, aided by the memory of recently handing him her pen. Again he said nothing, leaving her to agonize over what his next question might be. She drew a circle in the pine needles as she tried to immerse herself into this role. “How did you get a driver’s license?” Her half-blind and long-past-driving-age grandfather’s solution came to mind. “I memorized the shapes and symbols of the street signs.” “Do you have a checking account?” “No.” “How do you pay for things?” “Plastic, of course.” This was true. “Who pays your bills for you?”

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“My mother.” After a pause, Kiria added, “But, with my money.” She didn’t want him to think she had none. “How do you make money?” “I sell my paintings.” True again. “What’s your name?” She paused again, and then thought, well, why lie about that? “Kiria.” “Kira? That’s unusual; how do you spell it?” A wave of frustration ran through her -- how many people had mispronounced it that way before? “It’s Kiria, not Kira. K, i, r—” she began, then looked up hastily and added, “Well, of course I can spell my name, it was only drilled into me about a thousand times a day.” “Well, Kiria, since you can’t read, I’ll just have to take you down to the local police station and let them sort this out.” “What?!” She met his stern gaze with astonishment. “But I didn’t know it was private property!” “Ignorance is no excuse for breaking the law,” he quoted gruffly. Then he reached down, picked up her backpack and pen, and held them out to her. “You trespassed on my property. That’s a crime. Let’s go.” It was just cut and dried to him, she thought, her pulse racing at the thought of being arrested. How could he do this? This wasn’t the charming man she’d watched every Saturday morning for the past year. “You’re really going to press charges against me?” she exclaimed, feeling a growing sense of alarm. “But I didn’t hurt anything here! I didn’t steal anything! I just painted a picture, for God’s sake!” All thoughts of hero worshipping finally vanished as Kiria put her hands on her hips and glared down at Mr. Ansel White of local TV fame. Then she quickly backed up a step as he rose to his full height and lectured, “Young lady, I’ve tried

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to reason with you, and all you’ve done is lie to me!” His words rang true, but she couldn’t acknowledge them. “You haven’t reasoned with me, you’ve only accused and threatened me!” she declared, feeling tears sting the corners of her eyes. He’d seen right through her fibbing. “If I’d known this was your property, I’d never have come up here! You aren’t anything like the Ansel White on TV! You’re mean and cruel, and I wish I’d never met you!” Ansel looked down at her for a long moment and then sighed. “Look, the signs are there for a reason. I’m carrying a rifle for a reason. I keep wild game on this property, and it’s dangerous to be out here unprotected.” He threw her backpack over his own shoulder, since she’d made no move to take it. “How long have you been here?” “About three hours. I sat there in the meadow and painted, and nothing happened. I don’t believe you. If it’s so dangerous, then why don’t your signs say, ‘Danger’?” A triumphant smile creased his lips. “If you can’t read, then you wouldn’t know whether they did or not.” As Kiria’s face fell, he took her by the elbow and started off toward the meadow. She tripped along beside him as best she could, unresisting in silently absorbed humiliation. Ansel stopped short a few yards into the meadow and dropped his hand from her arm. “I’m sorry,” she said, rubbing her arm and staring at the ground. “I’m sorry I lied. You scared me, and I didn’t know what else to do.” “Doesn’t matter now. All it did was delay this for a bit. Which way did you come up here?” Glancing up warily, Kiria saw his stony expression and looked quickly away. “Over there,” she mumbled, pointing. “Lying again already? You couldn’t have come up that way; it’s one hell of a climb.”

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“Well, I did. I climbed through the fence from the highway, then up the hill, and then up the rocks to the edge of this meadow.” He crossed his arms again, and Kiria stared, mesmerized, at his sculpted biceps. “Show me,” he commanded. “All right,” she replied. “Just as soon as you give me my backpack.” Maybe she could run and get away from him when they got down near the highway, but there was no way she’d leave her expensive tools behind. She held out her hand, and his eyes narrowed. “I think I’ll hold on to this a while longer.” He took a quick look around the meadow before turning back to her. “Now, let’s go.” Kiria felt a surge of anger at his continued brusque manner, despite her own guilt in the matter. For God’s sake, she’d apologized already, and she hadn’t caused any damage here. What the hell was his problem? She took a deep breath and declared, “Mr. White, I’m not moving without my painting and art supplies.” “I’ll drag you along, if I have to.” Although she had no doubt that he could do just that, she sat down sullenly in the grass. No point in making it easy for him. When he made no move towards her, she began to pull her hair back into the elastic band that she’d put around her wrist earlier. As an awkward silence settled heavily around them, she stared fixedly at Ansel’s boots. When she saw him lower his rifle to the ground, she blurted out, “Look, I said I was sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry that I trespassed, too. But you scared the hell out of me! Then you dragged me across this meadow, and now you’re stealing my art supplies! I’d say we’re even. Just let me leave with my stuff, and I’ll be happy to forget I ever met you.” She pulled her knees up and hugged them to her. “I won’t even tell anyone about this, I promise!”

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After another minute of silence, Ansel simply picked up his rifle and walked off. Kiria sat quietly, watching him with growing dismay. Her car keys were in the backpack that hung carelessly over his shoulder. She thought he was probably expecting her to follow him, but doing the expected had never been her forte. Wondering exactly what kind of dangerous wildlife he’d referred to, she looked nervously around her. Surely he wouldn’t leave her here alone and defenseless. He’d soon return. Either that, or he’d send the police to get her. She thought back over his recent wildlife shows and couldn’t remember anything bigger than a beaver roaming this area. Everything would be fine. Kiria crossed her legs in a yoga position and began to slowly go through her calming routine. Ten interminable minutes later, she heard a branch snap from the trees a few yards away. She turned her head and waited, unmoving except for the slight rise and fall of her chest. Then there was a quick rustling of pine needles, and she fought back the urge to jump up and run. If she’d learned anything from watching that rude man’s show, it was to never panic when in danger. What animal could it possibly be? A bear, a mountain lion, or perhaps something more exotic? The rustling grew louder, and suddenly a small rabbit popped out from beneath a bush. Kiria nearly laughed out loud in relief, relaxing as she watched it hop through the grass. She uncurled her legs to stretch them out just as a sudden blur of tan and white streaked across the grass not fifty feet away from her, pouncing upon the rabbit. Kiria threw herself flat on the ground, trembling in fear as she heard growling and snarling as whatever it was attacked its prey. Then all was silent except for the pounding of her pulse and the still-gentle breeze ruffling through the trees. She slowly opened one eye to meet the yellow eyes of a bobcat standing only a few yards

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away; the rabbit limp in its mouth. Blood dripped from the cat’s jaws, staining the green and yellow grass crimson, and a rank odor emanated from its dingy pelt. It stared at her for several long moments, then turned its head and quickly padded away into the forest. Kiria lay panting but unmoving, afraid that it might change its mind about what to have for dinner. Seconds dragged slowly by until suddenly she heard Ansel White say her name in a calm, deep tone. She lifted her head slightly and saw him standing about thirty yards away, his rifle at the ready. “Come over here,” he said. Kiria immediately jumped up and ran toward him, never looking behind her. It was a bit unnerving to run toward a man with a rifle pointed her way, but she trusted he was just covering her back. Sprinting past him, she stopped and turned to scan the meadow, breathing heavily more from fear than lack of oxygen. “Let’s go,” he said, and began to walk toward the hill she’d climbed, looking back frequently to scan the area. Kiria scampered to keep up, now willing to obey his every word. She’d never been so scared in her life, and jail seemed a happy alternative to another encounter with a bobcat. When they reached the edge of the meadow, she sat down to begin her descent. “I’ll go first,” said Ansel. She waited as he slung his rifle over the shoulder with the backpack, and stepped down in front of her. The stone face of the ridge wasn’t very difficult to maneuver, at least not for Kiria, who’d climbed vertical slopes with a youth group over the past summer. It was slow going, though, because Ansel wouldn’t move very far ahead of her, as if he thought she was going to fall. By the time they reached the grassy hill below a half-hour later, Kiria was both annoyed and exasperated, and her bladder was about to burst.

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She stood on solid ground and glared at him. “I want my backpack, now.” ______________ Ansel studied her for a moment. His initial anger had faded as he’d watched her personality reveal itself. Impetuous, immature, and impatient only began to describe her. Yet there was something in the elfin face, the set of her jaw, and her graceful body movements that stirred up feelings he’d set aside years ago. She was strong and slim like a deer, soft and cute like a bunny, and as stubborn as a mule. She couldn’t meet his eyes when she was lying, which was a good thing. The look of exasperation on her face right now, though, was annoying as hell. She held out her hand as if actually expecting him to give up the backpack at her command. Ignoring her, Ansel turned and started down the grassy hill that sloped to the highway. “We’re not safe, yet,” he informed her. The sound of her muttered curses followed him for the next twenty minutes. ______________ After carefully maneuvering through the barbedwire fence, Ansel sat down on a grassy slope and stretched his legs out in front of him. “It’s time to talk,” he decreed. Her eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t want to talk!” she sputtered. “I just want to get my stuff and leave! I promise, I’ll never trespass on anyone’s land again, after what just happened up there. I’ve never been so scared in my life! Please, just let me go home now,” she begged, stepping back and forth from one foot to the other. “You wanted me to reason with you, so sit down here.” Ansel patted the verdant ground beside him, but Kiria continued her curious dance while backing away from him.

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“I… I have to go!” she exclaimed, hopping a little faster. With a tight smile, he motioned toward some nearby bushes. “I need a tissue out of there,” she pointed to her backpack. Rolling his eyes, Ansel unzipped the bag and began to sort through its contents. But Kiria couldn’t wait any longer. She darted over to unzip a side pocket and pulled out a small pack of tissues, normally used to blot stray globs of paint. Ansel sniffed appreciatively at the clean scent of her hair as it brushed against his face. He glimpsed a closeup view of her porcelain-like complexion before she jerked away, as if suddenly aware of their nearness. Kiria immediately dashed over to the privacy of the leafy branches. After rustling them about for some time, she finally emerged and slowly sauntered over to sit down next to him, a smile on her lips. Ansel smiled himself, as he recognized her change of tactics. Confrontation and rudeness hadn’t worked, and now she was going to try sugar and spice. She looked innocently up at him. “Mr. White, I’m very sorry that I trespassed on your land, really I am!” Her expression was beguilingly contrite. “Please don’t take me to the police! I’ve learned my lesson, I promise! I’m sure you wouldn’t want to see me go to jail, would you? I’ve never done anything against the law before!” “I don’t know… I am having second thoughts about this. But I haven’t decided what to do with you, yet.” He watched her eyebrows rise uneasily. “Tell me a little about yourself.” “Um… well… I’m an artist, and I live with my mother, and I’m really, really, sorry I climbed up here, because if I were charged with trespassing, it would ruin my career, because the Mayor commissioned me to do several paintings of this area for the town hall, and I’m really, really sorry for trespassing… Please don’t make me go to the police, I’ve never been in any sort of trouble before,

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and…” Ansel held up his hand, and she immediately stopped babbling to stare at him, her golden eyes wide. “What’s your full name?” “Kiria Martin.” “How old are you?” “Um… seventeen,” she mumbled, dropping her eyes to stare at the ground. “Miss Martin, I want your real age.” “I am seventeen! I was born in 1991!” Kiria retied her sneaker and inched away a little. Ansel’s jaw tightened as he began to lose patience. “You may be quick at math, but I don’t believe you’re a day under twenty-one!” “I happen to be…” there was a slight pause, “fourteen-hundred and sixty days under twentyone!” Ansel stared at her indignant expression in surprise. She’d just unwittingly proven her exceptional math skills, and he knew she was lying . He knew she was older than seventeen. If there was one thing he couldn’t abide, it was dishonesty. Trespassing was bad enough, but in his eyes, this was even worse. A visit to the local precinct would probably go far toward changing her attitude, but he really didn’t want to ruin her career. “Let me see your driver’s license,” he said, watching her cheeks flush. “I lost it last week.” “So you’ve been driving without one?” “Um... I guess so.” “Isn’t that breaking the law? You just said you’ve never done anything against the law before.” Kiria rolled her eyes up toward the fluffy clouds above. “Yeah, okay, but who needs a license on them, anyway? If you get pulled over by a cop, he’s got it all on a computer right in front of him.” “Is it in here?” Ansel began to rummage through her backpack again.

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“No!” She jerked it out of his hands and quickly zipped it up, then held it to her chest protectively. He let her keep it as he stared her down, wondering what to do with her. He wanted to teach her a lesson she’d never forget. He’d wanted to turn her over his knee and spank the daylights out of her back at the old log, but the possibility of danger had been all too real. Now that they’d left the meadow, though… the bobcat had never ventured out here closer to the highway. With renewed purpose, he leaned towards her and grabbed her hands, pulling her to him. “Young lady, you’ve told me your last lie,” he declared. Kiria struggled to get away, squealing in outrage as he pinned her hands behind her back, pushed over his lap, and held her legs down with his. She was much stronger than he’d thought, though, and it took a while to immobilize her. Raising his hand high, he brought it down hard across the seat of her pants. ______________ Kiria was astonished to find herself upended over Ansel White’s lap. If the first smack hadn’t hurt so much, she’d have laughed. She’d never been spanked as a child, and the fact that it was happening now was absurd! Still struggling, she felt the second strike land. Pain gave rise to anger, and she howled out in protest. “Stop! You son of a bitch! Let me go!” A volley of stinging slaps immediately followed, and she bent her head to sink her teeth into his thigh. “Ow!” yelled Ansel, and Kiria was suddenly free. She rolled away and jumped to her feet as he rubbed his thigh and glared at her. Snatching up her backpack, she turned to run down the hill, but he sprang to his feet and stopped her before she’d gone more than a few yards. He pulled her down to the ground with him, one huge arm about her waist.

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“Oof!” she grunted as she fell onto his chest. He rolled her onto her stomach, leaned on her back, and then applied at least thirty hard smacks to her denim-clad bottom. Kiria kicked her legs frantically and tried to roll out from under him, but she was effectively pinned. The blows burned through her pants, the grass tickled her chin and arms, and she couldn’t mov e an inch beneath his considerable weight. “Stop!” she gasped, “I can’t breathe!” When he rose up a little, she drew in a great lungful of cool air. Her face was hot with embarrassment and she tried to sit up, only to meet the rock-hard wall of his chest. “No,” he told her, “we’re not done, yet.” He firmly pushed her back down and the punishment continued. Kiria struggled wildly; having no experience at being disciplined, she didn’t know what else to do as pain filled her mind. “Admit you were lying and say you’re sorry,” Ansel prompted, adding a few more hard slaps. “Oh! Okay, I was lying! I’m sorry!” she immediately blurted out. “I’m sorry! Please stop! I’m sorry I lied! I can read! I’m really twenty-two! I didn’t lose my license! I won’t lie again, please stop, please!” Ansel let her go. She quickly rolled away and sat up, burying her face in her hands as unwanted tears welled up. She’d never been so mortified in her life! Her bottom was burning and she desperately wanted to rub the pain away, but to do so was unthinkable. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she wiped the tears away, wondering what one should do after being soundly spanked, especially by a sexy man. This was the most dramatic moment of her life, she thought. She never cried, she’d never wrestled with a man, and she’d never been caught lying before. After a few long moments, Kiria glanced

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warily at Ansel, who lay insouciantly supine on the grass, looking up at the clouds. “Are you ready to talk, yet?” his tone was stern, and Kiria swallowed hard. “Yes,” she replied, feeling like a small child. “Don’t lie to me again,” he warned. “I won’t.” She felt the pain begin to fade away, and a liquid warmth began to spread throughout her belly. She’d just been thoroughly spanked for lying, and she was feeling no resentment at all; only an odd sense of requital. All stress and anger had melted away, and she found herself once again in awe of Ansel White, not as a celebrity but as a man. No one had ever dared to make her do anything before. No one had ever accused her of lying, even if they’d suspected it. Kiria had been raised a free spirit; her mother had rarely told her no, had never raised her voice to her, and had certainly never disciplined her. It was a unique experience, and Kiria realized that she liked the way she was feeling just now. She lay back on the grass and stared up at the sky.

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Chapter Two

Kiria suddenly remembered Ansel’s threat to take her to the police station. “Are you still going to turn me in?” she asked, hoping he’d changed his mind. “No,” he replied, “I think we could call it even, now.” “Thank you. And I really am sorry.” “I believe you.” Kiria smiled to herself and watched the clouds drift by, inordinately pleased by his simple remark. Moments later, her stomach began itching and she put her hand there, feeling a warm wetness. “Oh!” she exclaimed, sitting up quickly to look. Blood seeped from the torn skin around her newly pierced navel ring. Ansel was already at her side. “Lie back down,” he said, pushing gently at her shoulder, and she weakly complied. “Of all the…” He stared down at her stomach and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. “Why anyone would want to pierce holes in their skin, I’ll never know,” he grumbled, pressing the cloth against the wound. “It’s ripped. We’re going to have to take this ring out.” “No!” cried Kiria, “I just paid eighty dollars for it!” Ansel gave her an incredulous look. “Hold this on there, then, and I’ll take you back to the house to clean it up. We’ll see if we can save it.” Holding the cloth firmly, Kiria got up and started down the hill. Ansel picked up her backpack and his rifle, following her to her car. She stopped to lean

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against it. Peering down at her belly ring, she was dismayed to see that it did look bad. “The keys are in the side pocket,” she told Ansel as he held out her backpack. Retrieving them, he unlocked the passenger side door for her. She sat down, wincing, as he went around to the driver’s seat. Despite her anxiety, she smiled when he slid the driver’s seat back a foot, and still had to bring his knees up almost to the steering wheel to drive her small car. A short distance up the highway, he turned into an unmarked, narrow driveway, and they approached a security gate. Ansel punched in a code, and it opened to let them through. The house was nearly a half-mile down the drive, a low rambling structure that looked unimpressive at first glance. He parked in the circular drive next to a green Jeep and got out. He opened the door for Kiria, who carefully stepped out, still holding the handkerchief tightly against her. She followed him into the house, and then stood transfixed in the foyer. Staring at her, not three feet away, was a stuffed mountain lion, its eyes amazingly lifelike. Ansel took her arm and led her down the hall to a large kitchen, which was newly refinished with light oak cabinets and granite counters; the odor of fresh paint still lingered. He turned on a bright light over the long kitchen table and told her to lie down on it. Then he left the room, and Kiria stepped up on a chair to sit on the end of the table. She really didn’t want to lie down on it like some specimen he’d brought home to stuff. He soon returned with his hands full of gauze and bandages, though, and she reluctantly lowered herself onto it. Moving her hand away from her stomach, he deftly cleansed the skin with antiseptic wipes. Kiria yelped from the burning sensation, and tears pricked her eyes, but she held them back and clenched her teeth as he worked, hoping he could salvage the ring.

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“Kiria, this really needs to come out,” he finally declared, and she pulled her head up to look. “See, it’s ripped on the lower end, and it’s not going to heal properly with the ring in place.” “How do you know? Are you a doctor?” she asked, not wanting to believe him. “No, but I’m a veterinarian. I’ve seen plenty of wounds, and I know how they heal.” “Well, I’m not an animal, so don’t you think it’s a bit different in humans?” As Kiria argued, Ansel snapped the little metal ball off the ring, and she gasped as she heard it bounce across the table and onto the floor. “Why the hell did you do that?” She started to get up, but he’d already slipped the ring out, and was wiping away the rest of the blood. “Bloody hell!” she exclaimed, and sat up, her face pink with anger. “Lie back down so I can bandage this, now,” he told her. Undaunted, Kiria told him loudly, “I can’t believe you took it out! It’s your fault it’s messed up, anyway, and who the hell do you think you are, wrestling me down and spanking me like I was a little kid?” “Apparently it didn’t do much good,” he said, putting his hands on both of her shoulders and gently pushing her back down. “That’s right, it didn’t do any good; in fact, it only made me madder!” she complained, allowing him to finish cleaning the area and apply a gauze bandage to it. “Interesting,” he said calmly, “It used to work on my sister. Of course, her bottom only had underwear on it, and you had these jeans to protect you.” He raised one eyebrow as he applied some tape. Kiria understood the implication and remained silent but sullen. Patting her hip, Ansel stepped away to throw out the bandage wrappers. Kiria sat up and put her feet on a chair as she watched him. An image of her

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bare bottom over his lap filled her mind, and she felt an odd sensation in her groin. “May I go home, now, please?” she asked, keeping her tone carefully polite. “Just as soon as you show me the picture you painted.” Kiria slid off the table and picked up her backpack from the floor where he’d dropped it. “I guess you don’t believe that I was up there painting, huh?” “Well, you do tend to exaggerate a bit,” he grinned, but she only frowned as she pulled her paint box out of the pack and opened it up. The canvas was still slightly damp, but perfectly preserved in its special compartment. Ansel stepped back to admire it. “It’s beautiful!” he said. “You’re quite talented.” Kiria smiled and shut the box. She was used to praise over her paintings, but for some reason, his opinion made her heart swell with pride. “Thank you.” She put the box back into her backpack and picked up her keys from the countertop. “I’m also impressed by the way you handled that encounter with the bobcat up there. How did you know to stay still?” She smiled. “I watch your show, you know.” “But you didn’t panic; you stayed put and waited it out. You knew he’d already scored his dinner, so it wasn’t necessary to try to frighten him away. I was glad I didn’t have to shoot him.” “I was too scared to move,” she admitted, and then gave him a real smile, showing off her perfect, white teeth. Ansel stepped closer and gently pulled the ponytail out of her hair. Kiria stood motionless as he arranged the silken waves over her shoulders and stepped back to look at her with the same studious expression he’d had while perusing her painting.

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“You’re a very pretty girl,” he said, and she felt a tingle of pleasure run down her spine. “I hope you take better care of yourself in future. No more belly-piercing, no more trespassing, and don’t go to strangers’ houses without an escort.” Kiria’s mouth dropped open and her pulse leaped in anger. “You’re just unbelievable. It’s no wonder you’re not married; you’re the biggest control freak I’ve ever met!” His teasing smile faded and his expression darkened. “Don’t judge something you know nothing about. Come on, I’ve got something to show you.” He took her by the arm, guiding her into the living room. Something in the tone of his voice induced her to cooperate. She took a long look around her as they crossed the threshold; the décor was beautiful. An intricately woven Persian rug covered the highly polished hardwood floor and the scent of leather emanated from two long couches. Ansel walked over to a white marble fireplace and pointed to a picture of a pretty girl on the mantel. “This was my fiancée, five years ago,” he said, unable to hide the pain in his eyes. “She liked to drive fast, and I never tried to stop her, other than asking her not to. I let her do whatever she pleased. I was afraid that she’d leave me if I tried to make her do something she didn’t want to. She was a beautiful girl with her whole life ahead of her, but one night she went around a corner too fast, ran off the road into a tree, and was killed instantly.” Kiria stared at the photo, shocked, her eyes filling with tears for the second time that day. Why was he sharing something this awful, this personal with her? Did he really care if she thought him controlling or not? She swallowed hard, finding herself tongue-tied yet again. Ansel reached out to gently touch her arm. Her pulse leaped at the slight contact, and she met his

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gaze, blinking hard to focus, embarrassing heat filling her cheeks as he saw her tears. His own eyes were intense with emotion. “I swore that I’d never stand by and watch anyone do dangerous things again,” he said, “If that makes me a control freak, then I don’t care.” “I… I think I understand,” admitted Kiria. “I’m sorry you lost your fiancée.” “It was a long time ago, but I’ll never forget it. Whenever someone I know does something foolish, I do my best to make sure they never do it again, no matter what it takes to convince them.” “But you don’t even know me.” “True.” He paused, and then added, “But I’d like to know you better...” His eyes then lost their haunted look, crinkling at the corners with some secret amusement. The mood lightening, she softly complained, “You had no right to sp…sp… to do what you did.” “To spank you?” “Yes! Do you go around spanking all the women you meet who do something dangerous?” “No,” he admitted, “You’re the first.” Kiria stared at him wordlessly for a moment, and then blurted out, “Well then, why the hell did you do it to me?” “Because you’re the first person that I knew I could get away with it, with.” He grinned at his clumsy choice of words. Kiria felt her cheeks blush. “You trespassed, you were rude, then you lied to me, over and over again, and it occurred to me that if I spanked you, you couldn’t very well call the police on me. You were in a precarious position yourself. I had a unique opportunity to carry it out without any possibility of recourse. I’ve always thought that spanking a woman would be a good way to change her behavior, but I’d never dared to do it before now.” “What about your sister?”

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“That was entirely different. She was a child; you’re a woman.” Kiria blushed even harder from the look he was now giving her. “So... I was your experiment?” She watched his eyes narrow with amusement. “I wouldn’t call it quite that,” he said, raking his hair back with his hand. Kiria watched his biceps contract. “It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. You were being a total brat, and I couldn’t resist.” “Well... did you like it?” she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper as she saw his eyes spark. She felt an electrical vibration in the air between them as he stepped closer, his clean-air scent like a drug to her already overwhelmed senses. Her eyes fell to his unusual necklace of thick, gold chain, a blue sapphire fused into a nugget hanging at the center. Glancing back up to meet his fervent gaze, she nervously backed up, breaking the spell. She was in way over her head here. Ansel sighed. “No, I didn’t like it very much.” He stared past her, into the hallway, and then added, “You were struggling like a wildcat to get away, you had your pants on, and what I really wanted to do was pull them down and spank your bare bottom until it turned rosy red.” He grinned as their eyes met. “What!” Kiria gasped in surprise, and then burst out laughing. “No one’s ever spanked me before,” she admitted. “So I guess it was a first for both of us.” “Your parents never spanked you?” “They divorced when I was only two years old. My mother never disciplined me at all, that I can remember. We’re more like sisters than mother and daughter.” “Oh. Well, that explains your tendency to ignore authority.” His eyes fairly twinkled with glee. “I don’t ignore authority when I see it,” she retaliated, smiling back.

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“Then perhaps you need a vision exam.” “There’s nothing wrong with my vision. It’s twenty-twenty.” “What about those no-trespassing signs?” He raised one eyebrow and smiled. “I have to go home, now,” laughed Kiria, taking a step toward the front hallway, but Ansel put his hand on her arm and she paused. “Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?” Despite his obvious flirting, the question caught her off guard. “Um...” She paused, conflicting thoughts running through her mind. She was incredibly attracted to him, but then again, what woman wouldn’t be? He was rich, semi-famous, and handsome. But she was a nobody; in debt, and only passably pretty. They really had nothing in common other than both being available. Plus, he was proudly arrogant, and she hated being told what to do. She currently had several boyfriends, all of whom she kept at a safe distance. They all seemed to know that she was in charge. It was obvious that this man would be the one in control, and would probably never even let her be an equal partner. But here he stood before her, seemingly anxious for her answer. “I promise I won’t spank you,” he added, grinning. Kiria smiled back. “All right. If you’ll also promise not to rip any more jewelry off of me.” Ansel looked at her closely. He eyed the two earrings on each ear, and then his gaze moved to her lips, nose, and eyebrows. “Stick out your tongue,” he said, and she immediately complied, with a raspberry sound. “I haven’t pierced anything else, if that’s what you’re looking for,” she laughed. “Good. Would you like me to pick you up, or do you want to come back here?” “I could meet you back here around seven.”

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“Sounds great. I’ll leave the gate open.” He walked her out to her car, giving her a quick hug before she slipped into the driver’s seat. Her arms tingled all the way home. ______________ Kiria parked her car and hurried inside, eager to tell her mother everything that had happened. Angela laughed as her daughter described the spanking incident, including her biting Ansel’s leg. “It sounds like you’ve got a real tiger, there. I hope you can handle him,” she grinned. “Oh, Mom, that’s just the point. Why am I going to go to dinner with a man who wants to be in control of me? I must be crazy.” “Perhaps you secretly crave discipline. Lord knows, you never received it from me or your father.” Angela smiled. She’d divorced Kiria’s father, James, nearly twenty years ago, and had never regretted it. She and Kiria had been quietly happy, just the two of them, and James had only visited two or three times a year, taking Kiria out to dinner or a movie. Kiria had enjoyed the visits, but never seemed to miss not having a father. She’d been an exemplary child, always trying to do what was right, and had rarely even needed to be scolded. “Crave discipline? I hate being told what to do. I like being in charge. I’m not looking for a father figure.” Kiria frowned in thought. “Or am I?” “Your father certainly never filled his role.” “But Ansel’s only four years older than me.” “Yes, but it sounds like he acts older than his years. Look, Kiria, just go out and have fun; life’s too short to analyze everything. I have a date tonight, too, and I’m certainly not going to worry about whether he wants to be in control or not. I’m just going to enjoy myself.” Kiria smiled at her still-beautiful mother. At forty years old, she looked like she was in her early thirties. They were really more like sisters than

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mother and daughter. Which was why Kiria loved living here at home, and had never considered moving out. Angela had never brought any of her “dates” home to meet Kiria, although Kiria had asked her to, on several occasions. She’d often wondered what kind of men her mother liked. “All right, Mom. I’m going to go take a shower now.” “I’ll be leaving around six, and I don’t know what time I’ll be home, so don’t wait up,” said Angela, sitting down on the couch to read for a while. Kiria took her time getting ready, putting on lots of mascara and eyeliner after applying a light foundation. She hoped that Ansel would like her “new” look. Of course, he’d liked her plain look, and had called her pretty, but he’d not seen her glamorous side yet. Maybe now he’d think she was beautiful, not just pretty. She carefully put a new band-aid on her belly button. The other bandage had come off in the shower, and the wound hadn’t bled anymore. She decided to wear a short, black strapless dress, along with her highest, sexiest heels. He was about eight inches taller than her, but now she’d be on a more even level. Kiria smiled to herself. The man wouldn’t know what had hit him before the evening was out. ______________ At seven o’clock, Ansel began to look out the window for Kiria to arrive. Neither of them had mentioned where they were going to eat, and he’d dressed casually in tan khaki pants and a white collared shirt, left open over a tee-shirt. He’d showered and shaved around his moustache and goatee. He took one last look in the mirror and then told himself to stop worrying. Of course, Kiria would think him handsome, no matter how he dressed. The hundreds of women who wrote him fan mail couldn’t be wrong. Even before his television show aired, women had tried to pick him up in bars and

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even at the grocery store. Back then, though, he’d only been interested in one person. He looked at Beth’s picture on the mantel. It had been so long since her death, but he dated infrequently even now. He was content to stay on his ranch, substituting the animals for human companionship. The women he knew now were only after one thing, his fame and fortune. Kiria was like a breath of fresh air. Although she’d initially been excited to meet him, she’d soon settled into her own personality. He even welcomed her rudeness. Not many people were rude to him these days, as if they were all afraid of being snubbed. At seven-fifteen, Ansel began to worry despite his ego. He paced the long living room, wondering what had delayed her. Had she decided not to show up? Had his controlling manner scared her away? By the time he finally heard her car in the drive, it was nearly seven-thirty, and his anxiety turned first to relief, and then annoyance. He opened the front door just as she got out of her car and turned to face him. He barely recognized her. She was overly made up, but gorgeous. She looked liked any of the dozens of women he’d dated over the past few years. He wasn’t sure that he liked her metamorphosis—where was the clean, innocent look that she’d had earlier today? Ansel stood on the front porch and crossed his arms over his chest as she approached. “Hi, Ansel! Are you ready to go?” she asked cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to her tardiness. “Of course. In fact, I’ve been ready for over thirty minutes,” he drawled. “Oh! I’m sorry, I was running a little late, and then I got held up by the train in town, and there were two-hundred and forty-six cars on the damn thing, and I couldn’t call you, because I don’t have your phone number, and I never speed, so that’s

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why I’m so late.” Kiria took a deep breath and smiled at him. Ansel said nothing for a moment as he regretted his attitude. He was glad to hear that she didn’t speed, and he really should have given her his phone number before she’d left his house earlier. She stood waiting for him to say something, so he sighed and smiled back. “I’m just glad you’re safely here,” he said, “and I should’ve given you my number when you left, earlier.” He locked the front door, then went over to his Jeep and opened the door for her. As he turned onto the highway, she asked, “Do you like my dress and make-up?” Ansel glanced at her briefly before turning back to the road. “You look quite sophisticated.” Kiria gave him a brilliant smile and relaxed in her seat. “Do you mind if I turn on the radio?” “No, go ahead.” Kiria tuned into a popular hits station, and then adjusted the bass all the way up. The entire vehicle vibrated with every beat. “Nice speakers,” she yelled over the noise, moving her shoulders in time to the music. Ansel suffered through the next ten minutes of the ride, until they arrived at a local upscale restaurant. He liked his music loud on occasion, but he’d wanted to talk to her instead of being blasted from all sides with drums and bass. He turned the engine off with relief, and got out to open the door for Kiria. As soon as they walked in, the headwaiter immediately steered them to a private table in a corner of the restaurant. “Good, now we can talk,” said Ansel, as the waiter left the menus with them. Kiria smiled at him. “Well, I, for one, am starving!” She picked up her menu and began to look over the selections. The waiter returned for their drink order, and Kiria ordered a glass of the house Chardonnay, while Ansel ordered iced tea.

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“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” asked Kiria, noticing that he hadn’t picked up his menu. “Oh, I already know what I’m going to have. The Lobster Gumbo is excellent, and the specialty here is the Trout Amandine.” “Actually, I found the trout wasn’t very fresh the last time I had it,” replied Kiria. Although she’d never been to a restaurant this expensive before, she didn’t want him to know it. For all he knew, she could be wealthy in her own right, and she didn’t want him to think she was lacking in class. ”Really? Are you sure it was here? That’s quite unusual; it’s flown in fresh daily. When were you here last?” Kiria struggled to maintain an air of indifference. She was used to telling all sorts of little white lies to her boyfriends, but none of them had ever questioned her about them. This was so disconcerting! “Yes, it was here; I remember the décor. But, it was at least six months ago. I’ve never been back since then, because the waitress was rude, too.” “Well, I promise you, it’ll be fresh tonight, as always. The owner’s a personal friend of mine, and he’ll be very upset to learn that your last visit wasn’t perfect. He prides himself on the quality of the food here. In fact, most of the recipes are his own.” Kiria swallowed hard and stared at the list of entrées on her menu. “I’m willing to give it another try,” she replied, “There’s no need to bother him with it.” She put her menu down, smiled at Ansel, and took a drink of ice water. “Oh, but there is,” countered Ansel, and Kiria coughed as she inhaled some of her drink. “Michael will want to personally apologize for the mistakes.” Kiria coughed harder into her napkin, and then sat up straight, trying to regain her composure. Her bright red lipstick had marred the pristine whiteness

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of the linen cloth; she folded it to hide the stain, and placed it on the table. “Excuse me,” she stood up quickly, picking up her evening bag from the table. “I’ll be right back. Please go ahead and order for me.” She headed for the front of the building, looking for the ladies’ room. The headwaiter informed her that the restrooms were in the back corner. Kiria stared out across the crowded dining room, picking out a path furthest from their table where Ansel was now talking animatedly with a short, well-dressed man. She wanted to meet the owner just about as much as she wanted to be spanked by Ansel again, which was never. She set out around the room, wondering what the hell she was going to do now. Ansel’s friend would be upset, and she’d have to accept his apologies, when he’d done nothing wrong. Kiria considered admitting to the lie, but then she remembered the steel in Ansel’s tone when he’d said, “don’t lie to me again.” She was trapped in her own web and would just have to make the best of it. She freshened her make-up and then peeked out at the table to see Ansel sitting alone. Taking a deep breath, she walked over and sat down, picking up the glass of wine that had just arrived. “Michael wants to know what the waitress looked like, the one that was rude to you,” announced Ansel, giving her a broad smile. Kiria felt her pulse leap, but nervously smiled back at Ansel. “I really don’t remember much about her, except a lot of teased, blond hair. It was a long time ago.” “About six months, you said?” “Yes.” Ansel’s smile then faded, and he folded his hands on the table in front of him. “Kiria.” She glanced up and saw him looking at her as if she were a small child who’d just spilled her milk. “What?” She blinked innocently.

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“Michael said that only male waiters have worked for him for the past two years.” Kiria felt her face grow hot as Ansel continued to stare her down. “That’s ridiculous,” she sputtered. “Wouldn’t that be discrimination?” When he didn’t reply, she continued, “No? Well, then, why the hell would any woman not want to work here? The tips must be enormous!” “Kiria… have you looked at the waiters?” he finally spoke. With an exasperated sigh, she let her gaze roam the room. Spotting several grouped together by the host’s stand, she watched them for a moment, seeing their feminine gestures and friendly comradely. They were all gay, she realized. It was a clique. “Maybe…” she began, stopping to clear her throat. “Perhaps… I’ve confused that incident with another one… maybe it was somewhere else?” “You insisted that it was here, that you remembered the decor.” “Maybe it was... a guy who looked like a girl?” “Maybe you were lying?” he suggested with such confidence, she knew she was screwed. It seemed impossible to get anything past this man. She still had a choice, though—continue to bluster her way through this and accept the apologies from the owner, or just admit the truth. She sighed, staring down at her glass of wine. Ansel knew she was lying. She knew she was lying. She didn’t know how he could tell, but there it was. “Maybe,” she quietly acknowledged, shifting her gaze to the secretly soiled napkin. “Okay. I was lying. I’m sorry.” ______________ Ansel closely watched her inward struggle. It showed in her face; her eyelashes fluttered, she couldn’t look him in the eye, and her nose twitched almost imperceptibly. He was a master at studying the expressions of both animals and people. Now

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that she’d finally admitted the lie, she suddenly looked up at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He wanted to smile; she was so adorable, her eyes wide and full of trepidation. It would be so easy to just brush it off. But he had the upper hand, now. Now was the time to push his luck further. “Kiria, if you lie to me just one more time, I’ll take you out to the Jeep and I will spank your bare bottom.” He kept his tone stern but quiet, watching as her eyes grew even wider and her lower lip trembled a bit. It was just the reaction he’d hoped for. She wasn’t getting angry; she wasn’t indignant; she was actually accepting his threat without argument. “Um…” It was clear that she didn’t know what to say. “Um… all right… I’m really sorry. I won’t lie again, I promise,” she managed to whisper, and then she dropped her gaze to the table, nervously rearranging her silverware. Her cheeks flushed prettily, and he saw a tear glistening in the corner of her eye. “Why did you lie about the food?” Ansel didn’t think there was any reason to lie unless you were a spy or an undercover officer, but he did want to know what her motives were. Besides, prolonging this delicious feeling—her obvious acceptance of his unusual proposal—was fun. “I... I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t sophisticated… I didn’t want you to know that I’ve never been to a restaurant this nice, before… it just slipped out. I’m sorry—I’ve got this bad habit of telling little white lies.” Ansel was instantly sorry he’d asked. For crying out loud, she’d thought he’d think her beneath him? Didn’t she realize how beautiful she was, how talented, how creative, how intelligent, how desirable? He was used to pretentiously sophisticated women, women who brazenly asked him to bed with them, women who smoked and

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drank and thought it was cool to utter curses as if they had no brain to think of a more acceptable word. The last thing he wanted from Kiria was sophistication. He watched her straighten her napkin yet again and then he reached over and put his hand on hers. “Kiria, look at me.” She slowly raised her eyes, their incredible gold color shining in the candlelight. “Just be yourself. You don’t need to lie to cover anything up. I like you just the way you are.” He didn’t know how to say what he’d been thinking. But she smiled at him and then squeezed his hand. She was giving him that perfect smile, with those shiny , white teeth sparkling behind the bright red lipstick. “And you’re prettier without all that make-up,” he added, hoping she wouldn’t wear so much the next time they met. He hoped that there would be a next time, but he was pretty certain of it now.

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Chapter Three

The next morning, Kiria told her mother all about her evening out with Ansel White. Giggling and blushing, she related his threat of a barebottomed spanking. “I wonder if he’d really have done it?” she asked her mother. “I’m sure he would have. You really shouldn’t play with fire, dear,” her mother casually replied while carefully painting her fingernails a bright, neon pink. “After dinner, we walked through the square, and everyone stared at us; it was so cool!” Angela smiled at her daughter. “Are you sure you don’t like him just for his fame, money, and good looks? After all, you don’t like controlling men, you don’t like pain, you lie all the time to your boyfriends, and you can swear like a sailor when provoked.” “Mom, the only time I thought of him as a celebrity was when we were walking downtown. I see him as a big, sexy man! Maybe he’s a little too controlling, but he’s also gentle, kind, fair…” “Well, are you going out with him again?” “Yes! This afternoon we’re going out on his property to tag snakes.” “You’re doing what?” Angela’s full attention was now on her daughter. Kiria laughed. “He said we’re gonna catch snakes and tag them, so he can keep track of whether the old ones stay, or new ones move into the environment, or something like that.”

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“Maybe I should talk to him, first,” mused Angela. “I want to make sure he’s going to keep you out of danger.” “Oh, Mom, you’ve seen his show. He’s an expert on all kinds of wildlife. He won’t let me g et hurt.” “Assuming that you listen to him.” “Well... I do have this incredible urge to test him on the spanking thing…” “Well, test him before you go on safari, so then I’ll know you’ll be safe.” “All right, I will! That’s a plan. We’ll see if he puts his money where his mouth is… I mean, his hand where my butt is...” She collapsed into giggles as her mother shook her head in mild disapproval. “You’ll be sorry, I’m sure,” she said, and began to put a clear topcoat on her nails. Kiria soaked in the bath a long while and then dressed in khaki pants and a halter top. Ansel had told her to be sure to wear long pants, so she hoped the day wouldn’t be too hot. She hated to sweat. She started to apply some make-up, and then remembered his remark that she looked prettier without it. What exactly did that mean? Did he hate all make-up? Or did he just think she’d had on too much? Okay, then, just a water resistant base, waterproof mascara and lid liner, a slight tinge of rouge and pink lipstick. There, she looked natural enough, but she didn’t have the confidence to forego any make-up at all. He must be used to enticingly glamorous women, and she didn’t want to fall short of his usual fare. She braided her hair into two long plaits and put on a wide-brimmed hat of her mother’s. Staring into the mirror, though, she thought she looked like a little girl with her hair in pigtails. She snatched off the hat and pulled her hair loose to brush it out, finally satisfied with her appearance. ______________

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Kiria pulled up in Ansel’s driveway, saw him open the front door, and fought back the impulse to jump out and throw herself at him. God, a more sexy, handsome man had never lived. She looked down at her watch—she was twenty minutes late, just as she’d planned. His expression changed from a smile to a stern frown as she sauntered up the walk to him. “Are you always late?” he asked. She smiled and began to laugh. “Yes, I’m afraid so… I don’t really pay much attention to the time of day, but the last time I looked at the clock, I had lots of time to get here.” “But you’re late, anyway. What happened?” “Nothing, Ansel, I just took too much time getting ready, I guess.” She smiled, thinking that if she hadn’t been purposefully trying to annoy him, she would now be irritated at his behavior. He sighed and took her arm, guiding her into the house. “Well, I didn’t know what happened to you. You could’ve called me. Obviously, you’ve no idea what it’s like to sit around and worry about whether something bad has happened to someone who’s late.” Kiria immediately thought of his late fiancée, who’d never show up again. She felt a sick feeling in her stomach—why was she doing this to him? “I’m sorry, Ansel. I didn’t mean to make you worry! You’re right, I never thought of that. I’m pretty much always late, though, so you shouldn’t sit around and worry about it. Just don’t expect me right on time!” Kiria stared up into his astonished expression. Then his eyes twinkled, the corner of his mouth twitched, and he began to laugh. “I’ve never thought of it that way before, either,” he said. “So, from now on, I won’t expect you until thirty minutes after the agreed-upon time.” “That’s a good idea. I don’t think I’m ever more than thirty minutes late.” She sat on the sofa as he went to get her a drink. Well, she thought to

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herself, that hadn’t gone at all the way she’d expected. He wasn’t angry, and he wasn’t threatening to spank her for being late. He was turning out to be much more reasonable than she’d thought. It was time for plan ‘B...’ Ansel brought her iced lemonade, and she sipped it slowly as he began to describe how he planned to catch the snakes. “Damn!” she said, “You really have to touch them?” Seeing him wince a little, she smiled to herself. “Not only that, but I’m going to let you insert the tag while I hold the snake down,” he replied. “No shit!” exclaimed Kiria, feeling her own ears grow warm—she really wasn’t used to cursing unless she was totally pissed off. Ansel cleared his throat, but said nothing about her choice of words as he continued to tell her about his prior snake hunting adventures. “That’s f-fucking awful!” she awkwardly blurted out when he told her about the snake that had bitten him. Ansel suddenly stood up and glared down at her. “What?” she looked up at him innocently. “You never said a curse word once last night, and now you’re full of them. You can hardly even pronounce them right. If I haven’t told you before, I don’t like swearing. So you can stop trying to act more sophisticated! I said I liked you just the way you are, and I meant it.” Kiria stared up him, astonished. “But I wasn’t...” She couldn’t tell him the real reason she’d been swearing. That would defeat the purpose. That would be like asking him to spank her! “If you weren’t trying to act sophisticated, then what were you doing?” “I… I was…” “Look, whatever your motives are, if you say another bad word, I’m going to spank you. Over my knee and pants down around your ankles. And it

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won’t be a fun experience, I can guarantee you that.” Kiria felt a hot flush rush through her at his words. She couldn’t put anything past this man! “I’m sorry!” she blurted out, “I won’t swear anymore. I’ll just be myself. I promise!” Now that the moment was at hand, the thought of being bare-bottomed over his lap was terrifying. Ansel sat back down. “All right. And don’t forget, no lying, either.” Kiria stared back at him in astonishment. She couldn’t believe she was letting this man tell her what to do, without even arguing with him. His next words surprised her even more. “By the way, you look absolutely gorgeous today.” She felt another rush of pleasure. This could become addictive. She forgot all about her plans to manipulate him as they talked together for another half-hour, and then he was standing up and telling her it was time to go snake-tagging. Kiria briefly remembered she’d wanted to be spanked first, but had already forgotten why. And she no longer had any desire to bait him. Ansel gave her a canteen of water. She watched him hook various tools into his belt loops and button-down pockets. He picked up a long metal rod, and then they were off, hiking through the trees behind the house, through a gate in the fence, and out across a meadow. Kiria followed closely behind him, ever aware of the danger she’d already experienced firsthand. A while later, they reached a wide river with rocky banks and overhanging trees. The water was crystal clear, running swiftly over huge slabs of stone, creating white curtains of rapids here and there. “It’s beautiful!” exclaimed Kiria, forgetting to be cautious. She began to jump from one large boulder to another along the bank.

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“Don’t go far,” called Ansel, stopping to rummage about in his pockets. “Watch out for snakes.” Kiria hurried back to his side. “Are there very many around here?” she asked. “Let’s hope so!” He grinned at her and held up a plastic syringe to her now anxious gaze. “What’s that? Anti-venom?” “No, it’s the tag,” he replied. “Huh?” “It’s a PIT tag. An injectible transponder.” “If you don’t start talking English, I’m quitting,” pouted Kiria. Ansel laughed. “It’s an electronic device about the size of a grain of rice, encapsulated in glass. You inject it into the snake’s underbelly, between its scales.” “You want me to do that?” Kiria didn’t even try to hide her revulsion. “Either that, or you can hold the snake.” He laughed as she grabbed the syringe from his hand. “Okay, go get one,” she said, smiling up at him. ”It’s not that easy. We have to find one first.” “No, you have to find one. All I have to do is sit here and wait.” “You don’t have a rifle, so you have to come with me.” “You can leave me your rifle.” “And who’s going to protect me?” “Mr. Wildlife needs protecting?” Kiria raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “Kiria, these aren’t my pets out here. I thought you understood that from yesterday’s adventure.” “Okay, then,” she sighed, “I’m ready.” Ansel held up the metal rod and Kiria noticed its curved end. “What’s that for?” she asked. “Snake hook,” was his enigmatic reply, and he turned away, heading for the river. Kiria hurried to

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keep up and ran smack into his back when he suddenly stopped beside a large boulder. “Bet there’s one or two in there,” he said, pointing to a wide crevice at its base. “I’m not much for gambling,” mumbled Kiria, backing away from the rock. She watched Ansel bend down and poke his snake hook beneath the rock. He moved it slowly back and forth, nudging here and there, and then stood up, obviously disappointed. “If at first you don’t succeed…” he said, and then he was off again. Kiria scrambled to catch up, only to hastily climb on top of a rock as he poked into another crevice. Then she froze, spotting a large snake warming itself on a sunlit slab of granite just below her. “Ansel,” she said very quietly. “I’ll be done here in a minute.” “Ansel, come up here.” She kept her eyes on the snake, hoping it didn’t suddenly awaken and see her. Or hear her. Could snakes hear? “Just wait a second,” he replied, still poking with his stick. “No!” she insisted, keeping her voice low. “You need to come here, now.” Ansel stood and glared up at her. “When I’m through here, I’ll come up there,” he enunciated firmly. “Have a little patience or I’ll have to spank you right here and now.” Fine, thought Kiria, feeling an immediate stab of pleasure that was completely at odds with her thoughts. She quietly studied the sleeping snake, noting its stone-gray coloring with wide, black bands crossing over each other. A reddish-brown stripe ran down its back. She leaned over a little, trying to see its tail. Were those rattles on the end? She squinted and leaned over a little more. They sure looked like rattles... she shivered, despite the warm sunbeams threading through the trees.

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“All right, what was so important?” she heard Ansel climbing up behind her, and she smiled to herself. “Nothing,” she replied softly, keeping her tone nonchalant. “It’s just a snake.”

He was at her side in an instant. Stepping in front of her, he leaned out over the other rock. “Timber rattlesnake,” he said, lightly caressing its side with the stick. “Sleepy, too.” He gently stroked its head, and then began to pick it up under its belly with the rod’s hooked end. It suddenly came alive, wriggling and writhing, its tail rattling furiously. Ansel deftly grabbed it behind its head. Kiria had fled the rock the moment the snake began to move, and she stood looking up in awe at Ansel and his prize. He jumped down, laughing, and held the snake against the side of the boulder, stretching it between his two fists, belly-side exposed. The tail end continued to writhe and rattle loudly. “Get the measuring tape that’s hanging on my belt loop,” he told her. She unhooked it and held it out to him. He looked expectantly from her to the snake and then back again. “You want me to measure it?” shuddered Kiria. “No, I’ll do it,” he blithely replied, and let go of the snake’s tail to reach for the tape. Kiria jumped back, squealing, as the squirming serpent brushed against her arm. “All right, all right, just hold it still!” she exclaimed, pulling the tape out of its case.

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Ansel stretched the snake out again, and Kiria gingerly laid the tape against the rock, several inches away. “Forty-one inches,” he noted. “Now, get your syringe out.” Kiria stared at him in disbelief. “N-now?” she stammered, reaching into her pocket. “Just stick it in there, between the scales, about a quarter inch deep.” Kiria swallowed hard and put one hand tentatively on the snake’s belly. It was warm and dry, to her surprise. “You might want to uncap the needle.” She looked down at the syringe and pulled off its plastic cap, revealing a rather large steel needle. “Oooh…” she winced, staring at it in horror. “Put the needle cap in your pocket.” Kiria mechanically obeyed, watching the shaking rattles and feeling noticeably faint. “I can’t do this,” she whispered. “Look at me.” She peered up at him as he told her, “You can do this. I know you can. I won’t let you get hurt; just do it.” As she stared into his blue gaze, she suddenly wanted to do this more than anything she’d ever wanted before. She wanted Ansel to be pleased with her. She felt his innate strength radiating to her, giving her courage. She took a deep breath, put one hand on the snake, and touched the needle tip to a spot between its scales. “Push it in.” She pushed, but the skin was remarkably tough and the needle didn’t pierce it. “Harder.” “Oh, God,” she exclaimed, cringing as she pressed down on the syringe. The needle suddenly popped through and buried itself over an inch into the squirming reptile. “Oh, I’ve stabbed it!” she squealed, on the verge of panic.

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“Back it out a little and push the plunger in,” said Ansel, his tone ever calm. “Okay, okay…” she was vaguely aware that her voice was at least an octave higher than normal. She pulled it out a little, pushed the plunger in, and drew the needle out, backing up quickly as Ansel inspected the site. “Good job,” he declared, and tossed the snake a few yards away into the grass at the edge of the rocks. It slithered rapidly away, and Kiria found herself panting as she stood trembling in relief. “Cap that needle before you stick yourself,” he said, coming towards her. Her hands still shaking, she carefully put the cap back on. Ansel wrapped his big arms around her. “You did great! I’m so proud of you!” Kiria leaned her head against his chest, and then nothing mattered but the feel of his arms about her, the clean smell of his shirt, and the strong steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear. “Ththanks,” she muttered, “Now I can tell everyone I’ve shot a snake.” Ansel laughed and hugged her harder. Then he slapped her left buttock, let her go, and pulled a notebook from his pocket “Now, we’ll record it.” Kiria stood frozen to the spot. Her bottom stung, and she didn’t know how to react to his peculiar manner of congratulations. She felt like a running back who’d just scored a touchdown. She watched him write down the snake’s species and length next to a serial number. “So, now that it’s “tagged,” how do you find it again?” she asked. “Well, it’s not like a radar; I can’t hone in on it. I’ll just pass the reader over any snakes I catch in future, and it’ll identify the ones that are tagged.” “What’s the point of all this, again?” “Snakes are an important part of the ecology here. They’re predators of mice and other diseasecarrying pests. By maintaining the snake population

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and studying their movement patterns, I can tell how the environment’s changing.” “Oh,” said Kiria. “Isn’t there a more humane way to tag them?” “Humane? All we did was give it a simple injection. Before this method came along, we had to spend hours clipping their scales in a pattern, which made a scar that could be identified. The clipped scales bled and sometimes became infected. It was a hell of a mess. The PIT tags are quick and easy.” “Oh,” said Kiria, nodding. Ansel snapped his notebook shut. “Ready to find another one?” Kiria stared up at him for a moment, her clear, golden eyes solemn. “How do you know that the snakes we catch aren’t already tagged?” “Well, next time, I’ll bring the MPR with us.” He grinned at her puzzled expression. “Mobile Portable Radio?” she guessed. Ansel shook his head. “Mechanical Prodding Rod?” He laughed out loud. “Mini Portable Reader,” he told her. “I wanted to guess it!” exclaimed Kiria, poking her lower lip out. “You shouldn’t have told me!” He gave her a curious look. “You like puzzles, huh?” It was out of her mouth before she could even think. “Oh, yeah! I love crosswords, logic problems, brainteasers...” “I’ve got some at home you can try.” “Cool!” Kiria bent down to straighten her shoelaces. In truth, she’d never worked anything in her life other than a cardboard interlocking picture puzzle, but she’d watched her mother do the other kinds for years. It couldn’t be that difficult... Ansel began to walk upriver, stopping to prod here and there with his snake hook again. Kiria followed behind, hoping he wouldn’t find any more victims.

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“Ansel, why didn’t you bring the MPR this time?” “Didn’t need it.” He sat down on his haunches, probing beneath a log. “Why not?” “This is the first time I’ve used PIT tags.” “You mean, you’ve never injected one into a snake before?” He stood up and gave her a sheepish smile. “That would be true.” Kiria rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you made me do something you’ve never even done yourself!” “Oh, I’ve injected snakes before, just not with PIT tags. Besides, I didn’t make you do it. It was your decision.” “Not really—you were ordering me around like a drill sergeant, and I was so scared of the snake that I just did everything you said.” “Why? You could’ve just said ‘no.’” “Yeah, I guess so... I wanted to do it, I was just afraid to.” “That’s why I ‘ordered you around.’ You didn’t have time to think about it, did you?” “No.” Ansel smiled at her; a slow, provocative smile. Forgetting about the snakes for a moment, he moved towards her, stopping only a foot away. Kiria warily stood her ground. “Was it so bad?” he asked her softly. “Obeying you, or shooting the snake?” “Obeying me.” Her eyebrows rose as she thought it over. “No. It wasn’t bad at all. I didn’t mind.” She suddenly grinned widely. “You know, you wouldn’t believe it, but I’m not used to obeying anyone.” “Oh, I believe it.” Ansel smiled back. “From what you’ve told me and what I’ve observed, you’ve never really had to answer to anyone but your school teachers.” “Well,” she admitted, “I didn’t really listen to them, either.”

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He laughed, and then his blue eyes sobered as he quietly asked, “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into, here?” Kiria dropped her eyes from his intense gaze. “I… I know that it’s dangerous out here.” “Not just out here… with me.” “Yes. I mean, I think I do.” One quick glance at him made her cheeks flush. “I, um... I want to be here.” She swallowed hard. “I’ve never felt this way before.” “Me, either.” A light breeze blew across just then, momentarily cooling the body heat radiating between them. “You know, I wouldn’t be ordering you around all the time. Only when we’re out here, or if you do something dangerous…” “Okay.” The thought of her doing something dangerous sent a thrill down her spine. She wondered what he’d consider dangerous, but before she could ask, he was talking again. “I want mutual respect, and trust.” Kiria nodded vigorously. “I do, too.” “I absolutely, positively cannot tolerate anyone lying to me.” Her face flushed deeper. “I’m working on that.” “I can tell when you’re lying.” “I know.” “And I will spank the daylights out of you, if you lie to me again.” Her heart raced at the thought. “Um... I really need to tell you something.” “Already?” his look of incredulity nearly sent her running back to his house. Before she lost her nerve, she blurted out, “I said just a minute ago that I loved puzzles, and it was kind of an exaggeration, ‘cause even though I do like them, I haven’t the faintest idea how to solve them—it’s my mother who’s the genius at that, not me...” She coughed into her hand and stared down at his boots.

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“I see.” He crossed his arms, sending her pulse racing. Her mouth hurried to keep up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think I was good at them, but it just came out before I could stop it! It wasn’t really a lie, though, ‘cause I never said I could do them, I just said that I loved them, which is kind of true, ‘cause I’d love to be able to do them, but then you thought I meant that I was good at them, and I just let you think that, so I guess, um, you’d probably think that not saying something’s the same as a lie, huh?” She stopped to take a deep breath and glanced up to see his look of utter disbelief. “Say that again? No, wait a minute. I get it. We’re just setting ground rules, here, so I’m not going to hold that against you. You’re right, though, not saying anything when you know the other person believes something that isn’t true, is the same as lying. It’s a lie of omission.” Kiria smiled tentatively. “Yes, that’s what I meant. But I’m not sure anyone else in the world would’ve understood what either of us just said...” He laughed with her, and then suddenly sobered. “If I do have to spank you for lying, it’ll hurt. A lot. It won’t be anything like the last time, when you had those jeans on.” Kiria felt a deep sensation in her groin, and she stared at his necklace. “I want… I want to stop telling little lies all the time.” “That’s good. Because I intend to cure you of that habit.” She paused for a moment as his words sunk in. No one had ever tried to cure her of anything before, and she was once again surprised that she didn’t feel indignant about it. “All right,” she heard herself saying, “You can try.” “I usually succeed in anything I try hard at.” His tone was confident, just like everything else about him.

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“So do I.” Kiria finally got the nerve to look him in the eye. “And what sort of things do you want?” “Well… I want to have adventures, like today…” “So do I.” He smiled. “I hate it when I try to argue with my boyfriends and they give in after only a few words.” “I like to argue, and I won’t give in.” “That’s good.” “Unless of course, your argument’s better than mine. But you’ll have to work for it.” Kiria grinned. “I was on m y high-school debate team.” “Then you should know how to be logical about it. No name-calling,” he smiled. “Of course not.” “And no swearing.” She hesitated. “Um… I do tend to swear a bit when I’m upset. You wouldn’t, um… you wouldn’t spank me for that, would you?” “Maybe. It’d depend on the circumstances, I suppose. You already know I don’t like swearing.” “Yeah, but if I get really mad, I always swear a whole lot. I don’t want to get spanked for that.” “Okay. As long as you’re not swearing at me.” Kiria shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that.” Ansel nodded and changed the subject. “Do you have a boyfriend?” “I have three.” “I wouldn’t share you with anyone else.” “All right. But that’d go both ways.” “Then, I think we understand each other so far.” Kiria nodded, and he moved closer to stand only inches away. He bent his head and brushed his lips lightly against hers, sending a shiver of desire across her abdomen. She fought back an urge to throw her arms around his neck, willing herself to let him control the situation. Another slight touch of their lips, and she closed her eyes, letting the warm sensations linger. Her pulse quickened as she tried

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to guess his next move, and when nothing happened for several long moments, she reached out to touch his shirt, feeling only air. Then she heard the unmistakable swishing of his snake hook beneath a rock several yards away. She jerked her head toward the sound, utterly astonished that he’d just walked away from such an intimate moment. She wondered if he’d even felt the invisible energy that had built up between them... They found two more snakes, both nonvenomous, and Kiria was able to tag them much more quickly than the first one. She briefly wondered what she’d do in future with her newfound skills. “Are you ready to go back?” asked Ansel, after he loosed the third serpent into the brush. “Already? I’m beginning to like doing this!” She capped the needle and handed over the used syringe. “It’s going to be getting dark, soon.” “Oh, let’s just catch one more. I want to do it this time.” Ansel raised one eyebrow as she held out her hand for the snake hook. “I don’t think so.” “Come on; let me try it, please? If I scare up a poisonous one, I won’t touch it, I promise.” “How will you know if it’s poisonous? It could bite you before I could identify it for you. You don’t have any experience at this.” “Well, you had a first time, didn’t you?” “Yes, but I’d studied the different species first. Plus I got lucky and didn’t get bitten the first few times.” Ansel took her still out-stretched hand. “Sorry, but we’ve got to go back, now.” He began to walk downriver, and Kiria followed along willingly. She didn’t really want to catch a snake; she’d only wanted him to think that she did. The embarrassment at her fear of the first one they’d caught was still with her, and she hoped that she’d been brave enough since then to impress him.

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Ansel cooked dinner for her back at his house, a delicious baked salmon with wild rice and asparagus, which Kiria thoroughly enjoyed. “Do you like to cook?” he asked as she praised his culinary efforts. “Oh, yes! I’ve been studying French Cuisine recently, and it’s wonderful,” she blurted out. Her conscious immediately tugged at her, hard. Why had she said that? Just because her mother was learning it? “Crepe Suzettes, duck á l’orange, you know…” Kiria paid close attention to her salmon, unable to look up. If he knew that she could burn boiling water, he certainly wouldn’t be impressed. “Hmm. I think I’ll let you cook next time, then. Just let me know what ingredients you’ll need ahead of time.” “All right.” Kiria made a mental note to download some French recipes online the next day. It couldn’t be that hard; her mother had learned quite a bit in only a few months at a local school. She could kick herself for lying already, but now that it was out there, all she could do was make the best of it. She felt certain she could learn it quickly enough to prove herself competent. Strangely enough, she’d never cared before whether she could cook for a man or not. They talked together in the living room for nearly an hour after dinner, filling each other in on childhood memories. They’d been raised undeniably differently, one with freedom and nurturing, the other with strict, loving guidance, yet they held mostly the same views and morals. The main difference was that Ansel lived them, while Kiria only believed in them. She’d frequently strayed from her values on the flimsiest excuse, but always tried to do better at the next opportunity. “Well, I’ve got to get up early tomorrow, so I’m afraid we’re going to have to call it a night,” he told her.

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Kiria looked up in dismay, but quickly recovered, giving him a bright smile. “Okay. I really enjoyed the dinner, and the snake hunt was awesome. Thanks for inviting me over.” “You’re welcome,” he smiled, offering his hand to help her up from the sofa. Kiria gathered up her purse and sweater and headed for the front door. As they walked outside, he handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s my phone number. I want you to call me when you get home, so I know you made it safely.” Kiria put the paper in her purse, and then wrote down her home number for him. “Thanks again, I had a great time,” she told him. She opened her car door and started to get in, but Ansel put his hand on her arm and she turned to see his now serious expression. He took her purse, dropped it on the driver’s seat, and put his arms around her. Kiria felt his chest muscles flexing against her cheek as his hands lightly caressed the tops of her buttocks. It was only natural to tilt her chin up, where he lightly brushed his closed mouth against hers. The spark of their lips meeting ignited a slow flame as he pressed harder. A wave of desire ran straight down to her toes as Ansel deepened the kiss, pulling her tightly against him. Their tips of their tongues met, explored, and then danced. He smelled of his unusual cologne and tasted like the sweet wine they’d had at dinner. It was intoxicating; overwhelming; and as she pressed closer, she felt a huge bulge against her stomach. With a jolt of pure panic, she pushed against his chest, and he immediately let her go.

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Chapter Four

“I… I’m sorry, Ansel,” she said. “I didn’t mean to do that. I’m afraid…” She didn’t know how to explain herself. “Kiria,” his tone was calm, “You can trust me. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” She smiled shyly. “I didn’t think you would.” The corner of his mouth tilted. "Except if I spank you.” “Maybe.” She grinned and then slid into her car, anxious to escape and sort out her emotions. “Don’t forget to call me when you get home,” he prompted. “I won’t. Goodnight!” she called, and turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. She tried it again; willing it to work, but only the clicking of power to the starter could be heard. Feeling like an idiot, she pushed the trunk release and got out of the car. “Damnit!” she muttered to herself. Pulling the tire iron out from the trunk, she took it to the front of the car. Ansel stood back watching, growing ever curious. Kiria knelt down on the driveway, leaned underneath the car, and gave the starter a few good whacks. She went back and turned the key. The engine roared into life, but the starter stayed on, whining in protest until she went back and hit it again. She gave one wheel a hard kick before throwing the tire iron back into the trunk and slamming it shut. Giving Ansel a reassuring wave, she got back in the car and put it into gear. It stalled. A turn of the key brought no response.

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“Shit!” she yelled, completely forgetting her audience. She pushed the trunk release lever again. Jumping out of the car once more, she got only a foot away before running into a wall. Ansel blocked her momentum towards the trunk and put his hands on her shoulders. “That’s enough,” he said, and she looked up in surprise. “I’ll drive you home.” “No, you don’t have to do that, really. It’ll start this time,” she objected, embarrassed but still angry at her poorly functioning vehicle. “Kiria, I want you to get your purse and get into the Jeep. That car’s not safe to drive.” “But, Ansel,” she protested again. She glanced up to see the dark look on his face. With a sigh of exasperation, she stepped back, yanked her purse from the seat and marched across the driveway. She didn’t like the thought of leaving her car here, yet she couldn’t bring herself to refuse his offer again. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the Jeep’s back fender while Ansel shut her trunk, took the keys out of the ignition, and came over to stand in front of her. “Is there some reason you haven’t had your starter replaced? It’s obvious you’ve had this trouble with it before,” he said, his tone almost angry. “Yes, there’s a reason!” Kiria glared up at him. When she said nothing else, he prompted, “Well?” “Well? Well, it’s really none of your business!” And it wasn’t, she told her conscience. “What about getting the engine tuned up? It runs like it’s missing half the cylinders,” he continued, ignoring her rude remark. “It’s only a little past due. I was going to take it in next week!” “And your tires are almost bald. They should have been replaced long before now.”

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“They’re not bald! They’re perfectly fine. I’ve never even had a flat tire!” “Is it money? You don’t have enough to get things fixed?” “No, I’ve got plenty of money,” Kiria assured him. “I don’t know why I’m explaining things to you—you certainly aren’t being nice about this!” “Then you just enjoy riding on the brink of disaster?” his sarcasm angered her further. “No! I just haven’t had time to leave it for servicing, and it’s still none of your business!” “Maybe it wasn’t my business yesterday, but today we made an agreement, so it certainly is now!” “What agreement? I haven’t agreed to anything!” “You agreed back there in the forest to start a relationship with me, drop your boyfriends, stop lying, stop swearing, and not put yourself in danger!” Kiria stared at him in amazement. “I did?” She thought hard about what had been said. “And what exactly did you agree to?” “I agreed to see you exclusively, protect you, cure you of lying, and spank you when you need it.” And all that time she’d thought he wasn’t really listening. Kiria felt a warm glow begin to build, which quickly died with his next statement. “It’s dangerous and foolish to be driving a car that can barely run, and since you’ve been ignoring the problem, it’s my business to make sure you get it fixed.” “Are you saying I’m foolish?” “It pretty much goes without saying.” “Why don’t you just go ahead and call me stupid?” “Because you’re not stupid. You knew what you needed to do, but you didn’t do it. That’s foolish.” “Whatever! I just didn’t have time to deal with it yet, that’s all!” Kiria had had enough of this

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humiliating inquisition. No one had ever before questioned her decisions, her money situation, or anything else in her life. No one had ever made her feel foolish, much less accused her of being so. Even though she suspected that he was right, the insult was too much to tolerate. “Well, you’re going to make time for it, now! What are your plans for tomorrow morning?” demanded Ansel. With an indignant toss of her head, she rashly declared, “I’m planning to hike up and paint the other side of your damn mountain!” Instantly, he took her by the elbow and propelled her across the driveway toward her car. “Young lady, that’s the last straw!” “That’s the dumbest cliché I’ve ever heard!” Kiria planted both feet down and pulled back, but Ansel simply picked her up and carried her to the front of her car. “Stop!” she yelled, but he effortlessly draped her over the hood and leaned on her upper back. “I told you what would happen if you did something dangerous!” Ansel began to slap her bottom with his huge hand, and Kiria squealed in outrage, struggling to get away. Her khaki pants were lightweight and provided little protection. “Driving on bald tires! Your engine stalling! That’s if it even starts!” Her bottom was burning already, and she kicked her feet up in vain—he put one leg over hers and held them still. “And don’t tell me it’s none of my business, when you know perfectly well that it is!” His pace increased as he lectured, and Kiria pounded the hood of her car with her fists. “Stop! You’re hurting me!” she yelled, “Shit, that hurts! Damnit! Put me down…” “No more swearing!” Kiria tried to wiggle out sideways, but he easily pulled her back up into position, and the punishment relentlessly continued.

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“And if I ever catch you alone on this property again, I’ll take a switch to your backside!” He spanked her harder, and as she finally realized that she could do nothing to stop him, she began to cry. “Please, Ansel! Please stop!” Tears poured freely down her cheeks and pooled onto the hood of the car. “Please!” She lay unresisting now, depending only upon his mercy. He gave her several more well-placed swats, and then pulled her up into his arms, much to her relief. He gently rubbed her back as she hastily wiped her face on her sleeve, the sharp pain beginning to fade away. Incredibly, she felt a surge of relief that she’d worn waterproof make-up. “Now, tell me why you just got your bottom blistered,” he prompted. Kiria was now speechless with embarrassment, and his straightforward words only made it worse. Bottom blistered? After several moments of silence, he rested his hand over one sensitive cheek. “Do we have to do this all over again?” “No!” Kiria spoke up, turning her hips away from him. “I… I’m trying to think!” “Weren’t you listening while I was spanking you?” He pulled her back into his embrace, where she laid her head against his chest. “No! I couldn’t hear you! All I could think of was pain!” “All right, then, I’ll remind you. You put yourself in danger by driving an unsafe car. You were incredibly rude to me, you said a lot of curse words, and then you threatened to endanger yourself again by going up on the mountain by yourself.” “Oh. Well, I wouldn’t have done that, though. I was just really mad because you were so rude to me.” “I was rude?” Ansel thought for a moment. “You mean, when I was questioning you about your car?” She nodded her head.

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“I think there’s a difference between being rude, and being like, stern, or serious, or just really concerned. I’m sorry—I never meant to be rude to you. I just wanted you to see how serious your car problems are, and you were acting like it was no big deal.” “But you weren’t asking me, you were demanding, you were sarcastic, and you even called me names, after we agreed there wouldn’t be any name-calling.” “I called you names?” Ansel gently pushed her by the shoulders to arm’s length, but she wouldn’t look up at him. “Look at me.” “No. I probably have mascara all under my eyes.” Ansel dropped to his knees and looked up at her, smiling as she tried to hide her face behind her hands. “I wouldn’t care if you had mud plastered all over it, but you can go in and clean up if you want.” “Okay.” Kiria turned and hurried into the house, eager to be alone for a moment to think. She shut the bathroom door and turned apprehensively to the mirror. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes, and her cheeks were pink, but she looked a lot better than she’d expected. She washed her face and hands, and her backside brushed against the counter as she turned to get a towel. Her bottom was probably all red and bruised, judging by the feel of it, and she hastily unzipped her pants and slid them down to see. Only a dark, pink blush stained her skin. She wondered how something that hurt so much could leave just this. The front door opened and shut, and Kiria quickly straightened her pants and left the bathroom. Ansel met her in the hall, next to the stuffed bobcat, and Kiria tentatively put her hand out to stroke its back. “Now, tell me what names I called you.” Ansel crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “You called me foolish and stupid,” muttered Kiria, pretending great interest in the cat’s left ear.

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“I said you’d been foolish, yes. I specifically said that you were not stupid.” “Well, I didn’t call you any names.” “Saying you’re foolish is hardly calling you a name! Do you think that you weren’t foolish by driving that car in the condition it’s in?” Kiria scratched the bobcat beneath its chin. “No,” she quietly replied. “I just didn’t like the way you were talking to me. You were demanding, and sarcastic, and I felt like a little kid who’d just stolen some cookies or something.” “Kiria, after that temper-tantrum you threw with your car, yes, I did treat you like a little kid!” She whirled to face him, arms akimbo. “Tempertantrum?” “Cursing, kicking tires, and throwing tire-irons?” He cocked one eyebrow, and her stance relaxed as she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry—I didn’t even realize what I must have looked like!” Ansel wrapped his big arms around her and pulled her close. “I’m sorry, too. I’m not sorry that I spanked you—you deserved that. I’m sorry that I called you foolish, though.” Kiria smiled and put her arms around his waist. “Okay.” “Now, in future, if I have to lecture you, I might sound like I’m being rude, but what I’m really doing is just being serious about something. And it’ll always be from my heart, out of concern for you.” Never had Kiria felt so loved and taken care of. It was ridiculous to think of love when she’d only known Ansel for two days, but she didn’t know what else to label this warm feeling that radiated from him and enveloped her like a soft, fuzzy blanket. “All right,” she whispered against his jacket. They stood there for several minutes, both enjoying the closeness, until Ansel sighed and let her go. “We’ve got to get going,” he said.

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Kiria followed him outside to the Jeep. He held open the door for her and she sat down carefully, wincing as her weight settled onto her buttocks. Ansel buckled her in before she could reach for her seat belt, and she stayed perfectly still, feeling like a small child who needed to be restrained. He went around to the driver’s side and got in. They rode in silence for a short time until Ansel finally spoke up. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll have your car towed to Charlie’s Repair Shop, over on Second Street, unless there’s another place you’d rather have work on it?” “Charlie’s is fine.” “Good. Do you need to be somewhere in the morning?” “No, not really.” “Then I’ll call you when it’s ready to be picked up, and then I’ll come and get you.” “Thank you.” Kiria smiled to herself, happy to be seeing him again so soon. “Do you want to have dinner again tomorrow?” “Yes! That would be nice.” “Then bring a list with you, and we’ll pick up the stuff you need for your French Cuisine.” “All right.” Kiria swallowed, wondering how she’d ever learn everything by tomorrow. She’d have to get up early to practice. As she directed Ansel toward her street, she suddenly realized that she didn’t want him to see the rather dilapidated frame house that she and her mother had lived in for her entire life. The grass was overgrown since the lawnmower had died two weeks ago, and the siding was badly in need of repainting. Their neighbors, the Williamsons, had offered to help clean it up, but as usual, her mother had refused out of pride. They’d planned on working on it over the next few weekends, but Kiria wasn’t looking forward to it. As Ansel turned onto her street, she became more and more anxious about what he’d think of her home. They neared the Williamsons’ much larger house

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with its pristine lawns and shrubbery, and its elegant two-storied pillars… Kiria found herself telling Ansel to stop. “It’s right here,” she told him, opening her door to get out. “Please don’t get out; my mother’s probably already asleep and she hates being disturbed.” “Okay,” he said, and blew her a kiss. “Goodnight!” She waved and began to walk up the long driveway, listening to hear him drive away. The hum of his motor never changed, though, and she looked back to see him waiting, as if to make sure that she got in safely. Cursing to herself, she quietly walked into the open garage and up to the kitchen door, where she spied a light switch and flipped it off. Finally, she heard Ansel drive away, at the same time that Roxie, the Williamsons’ huge German Shepherd, began barking loudly at her from the kitchen. Knowing that Roxie didn’t like her, ever since she’d sprayed the dog with the garden hose for pooping in their yard, Kiria quickly rushed out of the garage, ran across the lawn and through the hedges, just as someone turned the lights back on and let Roxie out. “What’s the matter, Rox?” called Mr. Williamson. “Is someone out there?” Kiria tripped over a shrub in her haste, and fell sprawling into the high grass in her side yard, hitting her arm on a rock. “Damn it!” she exclaimed, and jumped back up, running to her front door, quickly unlocking it. Roxie had stopped at the hedges, ever wary of the big wet hose, but Kiria didn’t know that. She rushed in and slammed the door shut. Her arm ached badly, even more than her bottom. Stripping down to shower, she discovered that her arm was scraped from elbow to wrist. The hot water stung at first, and then began to melt away most of the pain. Feeling much better, she put on a bathrobe and turned on her computer to research French Cuisine.

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Ansel drove for about a mile before he realized that Kiria had told him earlier that her mother would be out late tonight as usual. She’d said that her mother often stayed out past midnight, and it was now only ten o’clock. He wondered what she was trying to hide as he drove carefully home. Was she afraid to be alone with him? Well, she’d agreed to cook dinner for him tomorrow night, and he’d have to be happy with that. He knew now that he’d have to go slowly with her; she’d said she was afraid after that long kiss, and he didn’t want to scare her off. He smiled to himself at the irony of her accepting the spanking, while rejecting the lovemaking. When Angela walked into the house that night, she was met by a frantic daughter, demanding to learn the basics of French Cuisine immediately. “Kiria, it’s one-thirty in the morning. I don’t feel like cooking.” “Oh, please, Mom, I have to be an expert by tomorrow afternoon!” “Why?” “Because I told Ansel that I was learning French Cuisine, that’s why.” “Well, why did you lie to him?” “Because he’s such a good cook, I didn’t want him to know that I can’t even boil water! Please, I’ll pay you, I’ll massage your feet, I’ll do anything!” “Maybe tomorrow, dear. Right now, I’m going to bed.” “But, Mom, you can’t abandon me now! I have to practice until I get it right!” Angela gave her daughter a long, discerning look. “Kiria, I’ve always taught you to be selfsufficient. I’ve let you take your lumps along with your mistakes. You’ve gotten yourself into this, and now you’ll have to get yourself out of it.” Kiria sighed and threw herself down onto the sofa, cringing as her bottom contacted the springs beneath the thin cushions.

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“What’s the matter?” Angela smiled teasingly. “Did you already get yourself spanked?” Kiria only glared at her. “And what happened to your arm there? It looks terrible!” Angela sat down in her recliner and put her purse down on the floor, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. Kiria told her everything that had happened that day, leaving nothing out except the feel of Ansel’s hard-on against her stomach when they’d made out. Angela stared at her daughter in amazement. “You know, Kiria, he isn’t one of your usual meek and mild boyfriends. He’s going to see right through your lies, if he hasn’t already. You might as well just confess and hope he still wants to see you.” “But, Mom, if I can cook him a fabulous French meal, then everything will be just fine. He’ll never know. He’ll respect me as being more than just a crazy artist.” “Kiria, look at all the lies you’ve told him. You cook French cuisine, you live in that monstrosity next door, your mother goes to bed early and doesn’t want to be disturbed, you’re not afraid to pick up a snake, and I’m sure there’s more you’ve forgotten to mention. Kiria felt her heart race as she realized that she’d told Ansel earlier that her mother would be out late. “I—I think he already knows that one of those is a lie,” she stuttered, amazed at the apprehension now pulsing through her. “Oh, Mom, what am I going to do? That spanking on my pants hurt bad enough—imagine what a bare-assed one would feel like!” “I wouldn’t know, personally. Never been spanked. But if he already knows one’s a lie, what’s the difference between that and four of them? Either he’s going to dump you, which you deserve, or he’ll spank the living daylights out of you, which you also deserve. If I were you, I’d just forget the

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cooking stuff and ‘fess up.” Angela put out her cigarette and got up. “I’m going to bed now.” Kiria slumped morosely on the sofa, dreading the next day as much as she was eager to see Ansel again. She knew that there was no way she’d get to sleep that night. She was in big trouble, and it was a brand new experience. She’d never felt this way before, not even in the third grade when she’d been sent to the principal’s office for throwing spitballs. She’d only been retaliating against a group of boys who’d targeted her lunch table, so they’d all had to stay after for detention. No big deal. Nothing like a spanking. Getting up from the sofa, she shut the computer down, poured herself a glass of wine, and turned on the TV to the late movie. Three glasses later, she lit one her mother’s cigarettes and blew smoke rings into the air, her bottom now numb, and remorse eating at her conscience. Her head was beginning to ache, and she rummaged in her purse for her bottle of ibuprofen, pulling out the paper with Ansel’s phone number on it. Giggling to herself, she picked up the phone, but then quickly put it back down. Good grief, what would he think of her calling him in the wee hours of the morning, after he’d told her he had to be up early? Well, she couldn’t be in any more trouble than she already was, she thought. This could be a good test of whether he really liked her or not. If he knew that she couldn’t cook, was a pathological liar, lived in a broken-down house, and he still wanted to see her, then she would really know for sure. Kiria stubbed out the cigarette, took a deep breath, and punched Ansel’s phone number into the push-button pad. He answered on the third ring, his voice thick with sleep. “Hello?” “Ansel? It’s Kiria, and I’m really sorry to be calling you in the middle of the night like this, but I have to confess something to you, and I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

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“Huh?” Kiria rushed through her confession, trying not to slur her speech, and was vaguely aware of her mother’s entrance into the living room as she talked. She told Ansel all of her lies, and ended with a teary apology before he could break in with one word. “Anyway,” she continued, “if you never call me again, I won’t blame you…” “You’re totally nuts!” growled the voice on the other end of the line. “I’m not gonna call you, and don’t you ever call me again!” Kiria’s heart raced as the dial tone hummed loudly in her ear. She burst into tears, and Angela sat down beside her, hugging her closely as she’d done when she was a small child. “He told me to never call him again!” wailed Kiria. “And he said he’d never call me again, either!” She cried for a long time before finally passing out on the sofa, completely exhausted. Angela cleaned up the empty wine glass and ashtray, and turned off the TV before going back to bed. She felt sorry for her daughter, but hoped that she’d recover soon, and that maybe she’d learned not to lie anymore.

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Chapter Five

Angela came home from work early the next day, wanting to be there for Kiria if she needed her. It was one o’clock in the afternoon when she let herself into the house, and Kiria was still sound asleep on the sofa. Angela tiptoed past her into the kitchen, and the phone rang just as she reached their little Formica table. She quickly picked it up, hoping it didn’t awaken her daughter. “May I speak with Kiria, please?” Angela recognized the smooth tone of Ansel White’s voice. “She’s asleep right now, Mr. White,” said Angela quietly. “May I give her a message?” “Well, her car’s ready from the shop, and I was going to come and pick her up to get it.” “What shop is it in? I’ll take her there when she wakes up,” replied Angela. “Is this Mrs. Martin?” “Yes, it is.” “I hope you don’t mind if I just come on over as planned. I’ve been wanting to meet you as well. It’s no trouble at all.” “Mr. White, I don’t understand why you would want to. You made it perfectly clear to Kiria last night that it was over between the two of you, and I think it would be best if you never saw her again.” “What? What are you talking about?” “Mr. White, I heard the conversation. She called you at four o’clock this morning, confessed her lies to you, and you told her to never call you again!”

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“Mrs. Martin, I never received any phone call at four o’clock this morning, and I don’t know anything about Kiria lying again!” “Oh, my goodness!” exclaimed Angela, louder than she’d intended. “She must have dialed the wrong number!” “Apparently so. Now, would you please put her on to explain herself?” Angela paused a moment before telling him, “No. I don’t want her to have to cry her heart out all over again.” “Mrs. Martin, I’m coming over there right now.” “You won’t find us,” Angela smiled. “She took you to the wrong house yesterday, because she was ashamed of the house we really live in.” After a long silence, Ansel said, “Okay. What house do you live in?” “There’re more lies,” Angela matter-of-factly replied. “Go on. Please.” “She’s never cooked a thing in her life, except burnt toast, and I certainly wasn’t home early last night not wanting to be disturbed, and she’s still deathly afraid of snakes, and I really don’t know what else, Mr. White. I advised her to confess everything, which she did, but unfortunately it must have been to a total stranger.” “Mrs. Martin, has she told you much about our relationship?” “Yes… pretty much everything, I think.” “Then I’d like you to listen very carefully to me now. I’m crazy about your daughter, lies or not, and I have no intention of losing her. I’m coming over now, so you can tell me where you live, or I can look you up in the reverse directory. I’ll be there in twenty minutes, and I want you to wake her up and tell her to get dressed. Then I’m going to drive her to get her car, and she’s going to cook dinner for me even if it’s hot dogs and potato chips!” “Yes, sir,” Angela replied unthinkingly.

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“And I think I’m in love with her, but don’t you dare tell her that yet.” “Yes, sir,” said Angela again. “We live right next door to where you dropped her off, in the small blue house with the peeling paint and the high grass in the yard.” “Got it. I’ll be there soon.” “Um… I look forward to meeting you, Mr. White,” said Angela, and hung up the phone. ______________ Kiria awoke to her mother vigorously shaking her shoulder. “Kiria! Get up! You’ve got to get ready; Ansel’s coming over!” “What?” Had her mother lost her mind? “What are you talking about?” “You dialed the wrong number last night!” Angela was laughing, and Kiria squinted to see the clock on the mantel. “It’s one-fifteen in the afternoon?” “Yes, Ansel called just now, and he didn’t know anything about that phone call last night. You’d confessed everything to a total stranger!” Kiria’s heart leapt with excitement. “You mean, he didn’t tell me off?” “Nope.” “And he doesn’t know about all my lies?” “Well… I had to tell him where we really live, so I went ahead and told him the other lies, too, and then he told me to wake you up because he’s going to be here in twenty minutes, probably to tan your hide,” smiled Angela. Kiria felt the blood drain from her face. “Did he really say he was going to spank me?” she worriedly asked. “Not exactly. But he sure wasn’t happy about your lying.” Kiria stared at her mother in amazement, and then jumped up quickly from the sofa and ran into the bathroom to shower. She sang loudly beneath

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the hot, streaming water, her heart filled with joy. Ansel didn’t hate her. He knew about her lies, and he was coming over anyway! She laughed out loud, quickly blow-dried her hair, and brushed it out long and straight. Pulling on sweat pants and a tee-shirt, she wondered if he was really going to spank her. Should she wear a skirt? What did one wear for a spanking? She laughed out loud again and reached for her make-up basket, stopping short as she remembered her tears from the night before. If he did spank her, the make-up would soon be ruined. She put on waterproof mascara, liner, and blush. Probably could have done without the blush—her face was pink already. She put some aloe vera on her arm, which was still raw and beginning to bruise. On a happier note, her bottom no longer hurt at all. Kiria came out to the living room and sat down next to her mother. She had only a few minutes before Ansel was due to arrive. “I need a cigarette,” she told Angela, who tossed one her way. Kiria blew smoke toward the fireplace as her apprehension over Ansel’s imminent arrival increased. “Mom, do you suppose he really still wants to date me? He’s not coming over just to dump me, is he?” “Of course not.” “How do you know?” “Because he said that he was going to take you to get your car, and then you were going to cook him dinner, even if it was only hot dogs or something.” “Oh,” smiled Kiria as she took a deep drag off the cigarette. She felt incredibly relieved that there were no more lies to confess, but the thought that he might actually spank her bare bottom was making her extremely anxious. She looked at the clock, put the cigarette out, and went into the bathroom to brush her teeth. The doorbell rang just

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as she stepped out, and she hurried to open the front door. Ansel stood there, as promised . He stepped into the house as Kiria shut the door behind him. After an awkward moment of silence, he hugged her to him, and suddenly everything was right with the world. She put her good arm around his neck, and he took her other hand to kiss it. He sniffed. “Why do you smell like cigarette smoke?” “Oh! I just cleaned out the ashtray,” she began, and then thought better of it. “And, I smoked a cigarette just before you got here.” “I didn’t know you smoked.” “Only under great stress. Like, maybe once a month or so.” “It’s more like once a week, Ansel,” called Angela from her armchair, and Kiria glared at her. Ansel strode across the room to take Angela’s hand. “I’m so very glad to meet you, Mrs. Martin,” he said, and Angela blushed. “Call me Angela,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you as well.” Ansel sat down on the sofa, and Kiria joined him as they all talked niceties for a few minutes. “Well, I’m going to the grocery store now,” said Angela, and Kiria gave her a startled look. “You two enjoy yourselves,” she fairly snickered, got her purse, put her jacket on, and walked out the door. Kiria sat pensively next to Ansel, dreading what might happen next. Ansel could feel her trembling beside him the entire time they’d sat there. He turned to face her and took her hands in his. “Kiria, I like you a lot, and I’m not going to stop seeing you just because you have a bad habit of lying.” Kiria blushed and stared at his necklace. “But I did promise you a bare-bottomed spanking if you lied to me again, and I never go back on a promise.”

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Kiria’s stomach twinged in pleasure even as her buttocks twitched in protest. “Yes, sir,” she mumbled, her face growing hot. He was really going to do it! “I’m disappointed that you told me so many things that weren’t true,” he continued. “I’m sorry,” said Kiria, staring miserably at her bare feet. “I really didn’t mean to lie; I just didn’t want you to know about embarrassing stuff, like…” Ansel interrupted, “I don’t care where you live, or if you can cook or not, or whether you’re afraid of something or not.” “You don’t?” she glanced up quickly for a moment, not quite believing. “You have nothing to be ashamed of , but lying,” he continued, his clear blue eyes assuring her of his sincerity. “Really?” she almost smiled then, but his stern expression stopped her. “Don’t take this lightly,” he warned. “I’ll bet you’re not really sorry for anything except getting caught out.” Kiria dropped her gaze to the carpet and changed the subject. “Why doesn’t it bother you that I can’t cook and my house is so junky?” “Because those things aren’t important to me. Honesty is what’s important, and I think you knew that before you set out to mislead me.” “Mislead you? I didn’t…” Kiria stopped, openmouthed in surprise as she finally realized what she’d done. She’d let him think she was something she wasn’t. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way before. I really am sorry, Ansel,” she gave him a beseeching look, the impending punishment no longer a game, the lies no longer innocuous. “Let’s go.” Ansel stood up and held his hand out to her. “Where?”

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“I want to do this on your bed, so that every night you’re reminded of what will happen if you lie to me again.” “But… but now I understand, Ansel, and I won’t ever lie to you again, I promise! There’s no need to s-spank me!” “Maybe you didn’t understand why l don’t like lying, but you did understand what would happen if you did. I told you before; I never go back on a promise. Now, let’s go.” Ansel stood up and held out his hand to her. Kiria’s eyes widened, but she took his hand and stood up. Shuffling down the hallway, she was suddenly glad that she’d made up her bed and picked up her scattered clothing the night before. Ansel took off his jacket and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Kiria stared as he began to roll up his sleeves as if preparing for work, his powerful muscles flexing. She wanted to run from the room and hide, yet she remained frozen in place, fascinated despite her trepidation. She wanted to plead for mercy, but she knew that he wasn’t going to change his mind. She should be happy that he even wanted to do this, wanted to help her stop lying, wanted to see her again. “Right here,” he said, patting his thigh. Kiria stepped back a little, staring at the floor and gripping her hands together nervously. “I… I can’t,” she said, her pulse racing now. Despite her resolve, she couldn’t make herself do it. “Kiria, you agreed to this arrangement.” “I know. But I’m… I’m scared now,” she admitted, blushing. “Couldn’t you just forgive and forget? Couldn’t we just…” “What are you afraid of? Facing your mistakes? Paying for them? Me?” His gentle, coaxing tone drew her a step closer. “Um… no… I’m not afraid of you, I’m afraid of pain… I’m the dentist’s nightmare. I cry and shake all over just sitting in the chair…”

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“If I told you it would be exactly like yesterday’s spanking, would you be afraid?” Kiria thought back to the previous evening, remembering the sharp pain, crying over the hood of her car, and then Ansel’s gentle comforting afterward. No, she shook her head, she wasn’t afraid of that. “Well, it’ll be longer, and harder, and barebottomed, but it’ll be over with soon, and everything will be right between us again.” Kiria knew that nothing was right at the moment. She’d misled him, time after time, and she now had the opportunity to atone for it. She had to make herself move, and yet she still stood, unable to do so. “Yesterday, you made me do it,” she argued, “So just do it. I can’t.” “No,” came his infinitely patient reply. “Yesterday I gave you no option, so you’d know what you’re getting yourself into. Now, it’s your choice. It’s your decision. I’m not going to force you.” His gaze traveled from her anxious expression to her trembling hands, and stopped at the long abrasion on her arm. “What happened to your arm?” “I fell down last night when I ran back home from the neighbors’. They almost caught me in their garage,” she mumbled. Ansel shook his head in disapproval. “I’m sorry that happened.” Kiria looked up at him. “Well, isn’t this punishment enough? It really hurts,” she pleaded, holding up her arm. Ansel shook his head again. “You lied to me. Several times. You’re going to lie to me all the time unless we take care of this now.” Kiria knew it was now or never. She reluctantly took one step toward him and paused. Another step and a pause. One more and she was standing at his side, her heart hammering against her ribs, her

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muscles poised for flight, but she slowly lowered herself across his thighs. Ansel pulled her sweat pants down, and then her white bikini panties. She shivered as the cool air kissed her skin. He could see her bare ass, she thought, hoping he liked what he saw. He rubbed her cheeks for a few moments. Then, as if he didn’t want to frighten her, he started spanking her slowly and lightly, warming up her skin. Her body relaxed when she realized it wasn’t hurting. Kiria hugged her pillow, thinking to herself that it really wasn’t so bad, after all. She didn’t know why she’d been so afraid of this. In fact, she could feel warmth spreading across her bottom and into her groin. She rose to meet his hand unconsciously as the mild stinging sensation grew. Ansel continued to spank her , slowly building up the heat as she began to squirm a little against his thighs. She’d never felt anything like this before. It didn’t hurt like the previous day’s brief but burning thrashing. She restlessly shifted her legs, modesty forgotten as she found herself wanting more. She moaned and wiggled her bottom. But then he put his right leg over both of hers and pulled her toward him with his left hand on her hip. He began to spank harder, faster. “Ansel! No, please…” she kick ed her legs up a little. “I’m sorry, really I am…” His hand slapped her upper thighs, and she nearly bucked off of his lap. “Ow! Please stop, please! I won’t ever lie again! I promise!” But he continued to blister her skin from the tops of her buttocks to mid-thigh. Kiria struggled wildly to get away from the searing pain that now filled her mind. How could she have thought she would like this? She begged and pleaded, but nothing stopped the fiery onslaught. Ansel’s calm but stern words intangibly registere d in her mind, reminding her not to lie again, and she tried to concentrate on that one thought. Soon she

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was sobbing into the pillow, unable to think or even fight back, and then the spanking finally stopped. She felt Ansel’s hand resting on her scalded skin, and then he was rubbing her back, telling her she’d done well, and that everything would be all right now. She coughed and dried her eyes on the pillowcase as the burning eased to a mild ache, his soothing tone and gentle touch hypnotic. She was almost asleep when she felt a sharp slap to her stillbare bottom. “Come on, we’ve got things to do,” he declared. Kiria rose slightly and pulled up her panties and sweat pants, while Ansel slid out from beneath her. The whole incident didn’t seem complete in her mind. She’d just been thoroughly blistered, and now she was supposed to just get up and go on with the day? Reluctantly, she sat up next to him and ran her fingers through her hair. She was too embarrassed to even look at Ansel, and she once again wondered how one should act right after being chastised. “Are you all right?” He put his arm around her shoulders. Kiria stared at the floor and mumbled, “No, it still hurts.” She bit her lower lip and took a deep, shaky breath. “Well, it’s going to hurt for a while. It’s to remind you not to tell lies.” She burst into tears again. “I’m sorry,” she blubbered, and he turned to hug her with both arms. Burying her face into his shirt, she fought against the tears with little success. “I guess I’m just a big baby,” she wailed. “No, you’re not. You’re just not used to being punished. Don’t you feel relieved, now that it’s over?” “Yes…” she continued to cry. “But it hurts!” Kiria couldn’t stop crying, and the more sympathy he gave her, the more she cried. Suddenly, he let go of her and stood up from the bed.

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“Kiria, that’s enough!” “Huh?” Shocked by his stern tone, she wiped her face on her shirtsleeve and sat up straight. Tissues floated down onto her lap and she picked them up, blotted her eyes, and loudly blew her nose. “Now, it’s really simple,” Ansel told her in a no nonsense tone. “You lied, you paid the price, and now it’s over. You said you’re sorry and I forgive you. If you want to keep feeling sorry for yourself, then why don’t you do it in that corner over there?” “W-what?” Kiria looked up to see him pointing to an empty corner by the window. “Get up, change your clothes, and be ready to go,” he told her, “or go stand in that corner until you get over it.” Kiria gave him a look of pure anguish and threw herself prone on the bed, burying her face in the pillow. “I don’t want to go!” she cried, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, but only one damp, crocodile tear emerged. Ansel sat down, jerked her pants down and managed to give her three sharp smacks before she twisted away and jumped up, squealing and tugging her pants back up. He sat on the bed, glaring up at her. She stood staring at him in surprise and rubbing her bottom. Finally, she found her voice. “Okay. I’ll get ready to go.” He smiled. Getting up, he hugged her close for a moment, and then went over to the door. “See,” he said, “if you deserve a spanking, I give it to you, then I comfort you, and you get over it. Got it?” “I wonder how you’d feel if it was you on the receiving end.” She pulled open a drawer to find something to wear. “Been there, done that, plenty of times, as a kid. Sulking and self-pity just don’t help. Believe me.” “Oh.” Somehow, she was surprised that he’d ever experienced anything like what she’d just gone

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through. But obviously, he knew more about it than she did. “Okay.” Ansel looked around the room as she got out a pair of jeans and a blouse. “You really do need a keeper,” he said. “Huh?” She followed his gaze to the overflowing laundry hamper, the dusty dresser top, and the pile of shoes by the closet door. “I like my room this way.” He smiled down at her. “Well, hurry up and change your clothes; we need to go pick up your car. By the way, Charlie said that it was two quarts low on oil.” Kiria stared hard at him for a moment. “Ansel, you’ve just spanked me for lying, spanked me for crying about it, criticized my room, insisted that I change my clothes to leave the house, and reminded me again that I hadn’t done maintenance on my car.” She dropped the jeans onto the dresser top and crossed her arms. “What exactly do you like about me?” Ansel gave her a lopsided grin, picked her up like a baby, and fell onto the bed with her. He kissed her quickly and hugged her. “I like it that you’re not perfect,” he said into her ear. She couldn’t help but smile at that. “I like it that you’re willing to try new things, you like adventure, you’re talented, you’re smart, and you’re gorgeous.” He brushed his lips across hers and squeezed her bottom at the same time; she jumped and he chuckled. “Your strong little body turns me on.” He rolled over on top of her. “I’m sorry for all the criticism,” he said, his eyes serious for a moment. “I don’t want to be insulting you.” Then he smiled. “It’s just that you do so many things that I’d like to spank you for.” Kiria grinned and punched him in the arm. “I don’t think I can take any more spankings like today’s.”

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“Today’s was special. You have to learn not to lie to me. Nothing you do will make me go away, so there’s no reason for you to cover anything up.” Kiria smiled up at him. “I think you know all of my worst secrets, now.” “Yes, but I was just talking about less serious spankings. Like, throwing you over my knee and giving you a few hard whacks every time you swear, or giving you a quick spanking for not cleaning your room,” he grinned and squeezed her butt again, “or spanking you over the hood of your car again if I ever find it low on oil…” Kiria swallowed hard. “So you want more than just to keep me safe and stop me from lying.” She squirmed beneath his weight, pinned between the bed pressing against her aching bottom, and his now-hard member against her thighs. “Yeah, I think so. I know that’s not what I said the other night, but I guess I’m greedy. The more I get, the more I want.” “But I don’t want to be spanked all the time!” “You liked it at first.” “Sure, when it didn’t hurt so much!” “It won’t hurt much for the little things.” Kiria felt tears well up again. Was she willing to give him so much? Did being with him have to hurt? “I know I need to change some things,” she said softly, “and I think it’s good for me, but damn it, your spankings hurt! Somehow, I’d thought it would be sexy and romantic, but it was awful, and I don’t ever want to go through that again!” Patiently ignoring the curse word, Ansel tried again. “That’s the point, Kiria. It was a punishment spanking. Don’t lie to me, and it won’t happen again. If I had just ignored your lies, then I’d never be able to trust you again, and you can’t have a relationship without trust.” “You mean, you trust me now?” Kiria asked, surprised that he would. “Of course I do.”

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She smiled. “Well, what would happen if I became perfect and never did anything wrong?” “Then I would only spank you for being good,” he smiled. “I’d spank you lightly, like I did earlier, and you’d like it.” Kiria knew she’d liked it when he’d started it off. She remembered wiggling up to meet his hand, eager to receive the next swat. “All right,” she said, wondering if she were now some sort of masochist. Ansel gave her a big smile and kissed her lightly on the lips. She put her arm around his neck and pulled him down for a deeper kiss. His hand stroked her side, and then her neck, and then close to her breast as they continued to kiss. Before she knew it, he was massaging both of her breasts, squeezing them lightly and teasing their nipples while rubbing his cock against her thighs. Kiria closed her eyes, lost in new sensations, and then he suddenly pulled her tee-shirt and bra up, to kiss her left breast. His lips closed over it, and he licked and nipped its bud, making her shiver. His hand moved between her legs, stroking her gently through the thin fabric, sending ripples of desire undulating throughout her body. Kiria had never in her life experienced this kind of passion. She opened her eyes a little, feeling drugged as her senses heightened to an almost unbearable intensity.

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Chapter Six

The front door shut loudly. Ansel quickly pulled her shirt down, got off the bed, and straightened his pants. Kiria sat up and blinked as he turned on the overhead light. “I’m going into the bathroom until I’m presentable,” he told her with a grin. Kiria sat disoriented for a moment before getting up, straightening the bedcovers, and going out to help her mother bring in the groceries. They piled the full plastic bags onto the kitchen counters and Kiria laughed when she saw several suspicious items that smacked of French cuisine. “Mother!” she happily exclaimed, “Are you going to make us a gourmet meal tonight?” “No, but I’m going to teach you how to do it tomorrow,” smiled Angela. “What?” Kiria rolled her eyes and started to argue, when she saw Ansel standing in the kitchen doorway. She closed her mouth and smiled at him. “You’ve already committed yourself for tonight,” he reminded her. “I know,” she giggled, “but I had to try to get out of it!” “I think I’ll teach you how to make beef burgundy,” he mused. “That sounds good.” “Need any help in here?” He walked to the counter and began emptying a bag without waiting for an answer. Kiria paused from stocking the refrigerator shelves, noting how small their little kitchen looked with Ansel in it. The chore was soon

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completed, and she giggled when he sat down at their little table. He barely fit between it and the wall, and the small wooden chair creaked in protest from his hefty weight. Angela sat down across from Ansel, and Kiria excused herself to change her clothes. As she walked into her bedroom, just the sight of her bed brought the earlier events vividly to mind. What she remembered most, though, was Ansel’s hard body on top of hers, making her delirious with desire, not the embarrassing, bottomreddening spanking he’d given her. She smiled to herself and changed into a pair of jeans and a blouse. The rough denim chaffed against her sore backside, so she stripped them off and put on a skirt. Slipping her feet into sandals, she quickly brushed her hair and her teeth, and went back out to the kitchen. Ansel and her mother were just ending a lively political discussion, and Kiria cautiously sat down at the table. Ansel smiled and put his hand over hers. “We’d better get your car before Charlie closes up.” “All right.” “It was very nice to meet you, Angela,” Ansel told Kiria’s mother. “The pleasure was mine,” smiled Angela, winking at Kiria. Ansel opened the door of the Jeep for Kiria, chuckling as she carefully positioned herself in the seat. She managed to kick him lightly in the shin before he got the door closed. Later that night as she lay in her bed, she went over the events of the day in her mind. She’d been spanked on her bare bottom, she’d almost been made love to, her car ran like new again, and she’d learned to make a delicious, tender beef burgundy. She hadn’t lied to anyone, she hadn’t cursed, and she felt wonderful. Only one depressing thought kept surfacing—how would she tell Ansel that she was a virgin? She knew it was nearly unheard of at

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her age, but she hadn’t deliberately saved herself for marriage. She just hadn’t ever dated a man who she’d wanted to make love to before. Ansel was different. He was intelligent and exciting, he was kind and gentle, he was strong and playful, and except for some of his spanking ideas, he was perfect. She knew she was falling in love with him, and she didn’t want to be an inexperienced child when they finally made love. She wanted to be a skillful lover who could make him feel as special as he did her. Kiria finally slept, a fitful, restless sleep in which Ansel paddled her with her hairbrush when he found out that she was a virgin. Kiria spent the next morning painting in the square of the little town. She captured the town hall and its majestic brick façade, putting great detail into the clock tower. The adjoining buildings were a challenge in perspective from her perch on the flat roof of the local post office, but she managed to get it exactly right. As she painted the final details in for the newspaper office, she noticed a slight movement in its large, glass display window. A flash confirmed her suspicion, and she quickly fixed her canvas solidly in its case and packed up her supplies. Shinnying down the rain gutter to the fire escape, she rapidly descended and hurried across the street. A pounding on the office door brought forth Randy Parsons, the local editor. He’d gone to high school with Kiria, and had been running the paper for several years, now. “Randy! Don’t you dare publish that picture!” warned Kiria, pushing the door open and stomping across the antique wooden floorboards to stop and glare at him. Randy grinned back. “Why not?” “For one thing, you don’t have my permission!” “I need your permission? You were sitting in a public place. You were fair game,” he teased.

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Kiria wasn’t at all sure what the laws for public photos might be, and she tried a different tactic. “Randy, I’ll be in big trouble if you publish that photo. Please don’t do it,” she begged. “But I think it’ll look wonderful on the front page of tomorrow’s edition. Besides, since when were you ever in trouble? The post office couldn’t care less if you were on the roof.” “I know that. I got permission from Mr. Grossman before I even went up there,” she explained, referring to the postmaster, who was a friends’ father. “And your mother certainly doesn’t care,” he continued. “My mother cares; she just doesn’t run my life.” “Yeah, I mean she won’t mind seeing this photo tomorrow.” Kiria crossed her arms and pouted. “I can’t tell you why I’d be in trouble. But I will, and I’ll do anything if you won’t publish that picture! I’ll mop your floor, I’ll clean up that messy desk over there,” she pointed, “I’ll even scrub your bathroom!” Randy put his hand to his chin and thought a moment. “How about if you just go out for a drink with me tonight?” “Randy, I already have a boyfriend, so that won’t work.” “Why not? You date several guys I know.” “No, I have a new boyfriend, and I’m dropping everyone else.” “Oh? Who?” “You don’t know him.” “He won’t let you date anyone else?” Randy was quite skeptical. No one in his memory had ever told Kiria Martin what to do. “No,” she admitted. “But I don’t want to date anyone else, anyway.” Randy thought another minute before agreeing to Kiria’s first proposition, and then he sat back in his executive desk chair and enjoyed the view as

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she worked for well over an hour cleaning up his office. Her peasant blouse revealed the swell of her breasts when she bent forward, and her low-riding jeans exposed the firm roundness above her buttocks from the other side. When she wiped the last trace of dust from his antique scroll-top desk, he thanked her heartily and showed her to the door. Kiria drove home as fast as she dared, hoping that Ansel had called while she’d been out. She’d meant to be back home much sooner; it was now almost one o’clock in the afternoon. She pulled into the driveway and jumped out of the car, grabbing up her backpack and running inside. Her mother sat in the living room reading. “Did Ansel call?” Kiria breathlessly asked her. “Yes, several times. He said for you to call him when you got home.” Kiria picked up the phone and punched in Ansel’s number. He answered on the second ring, and her heart raced at the sound of his voice. She quickly agreed to come out to his house to go tubing down the river. Kiria had no idea what exactly that entailed, but as long as it was with Ansel, she was more than eager to try it. “Kiria, are you going back out?” asked Angela, watching her daughter closely. She’d never seen her this excited about anyone before. “Yes, we’re going tubing on the river!” “What about our French cooking lesson?” “Oh Mom, can’t we do that tonight? I should be back home in a few hours. Oh, and could Ansel come for dinner?” Angela smiled. “Sure. It can wait.” Kiria gave her a wide grin and hurried to her room to change her clothes. Ansel had told her to wear something lightweight that covered her legs so she wouldn’t get scraped on the rocks or dragged underwater by heavy clothing. She found a pair of spandex exercise pants, and threw on a black tee-

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shirt. Tying her hair up in a long ponytail, she hurriedly waved goodbye to her mother and left. An hour later, she stood on the bank of a river three miles up the mountain via twisting, paved one-lane roads. Ansel handed her one of the two truck inner tubes he’d brought up in the Jeep with them. “Now, remember,” he told her for the third time, “guide the tube with your hands, and go exactly where I tell you to. The only dangerous part is going under the highway, where the water rushes around the bridge piers. You have to be on the right side of the river, and then you’ll just sail right by it. I’ll let you know in plenty of time to get out of the way.” “Okay, Ansel, I understand,” said Kiria, beginning to wonder if he thought her an idiot. “You don’t have to tell me again.” Ansel smiled and raised his eyebrows. “Just making sure,” he said, and then his expression became somber. “The bridge is lethal, Kiria. Remember that. You have to pay attention and do exactly as I say.” She gave him a tense nod of agreement. “Let’s go, then.” Kiria naively stepped right into the icy cold water and yelped. “It’s eighty degrees out here! You’d think this water would be a little warmer,” she complained. “Kiria, it’s a mountain river. The water comes from a higher altitude up there.” Again, she felt stupid as he pointed out what should have been obvious to her. She edged carefully in, trying to get used to it. Ansel walked right in and sat on his tube, gasping aloud and splashing about. Following suit, Kiria took the plunge and screamed as a million nerve endings twitched in shock throughout her lower body. Then he splashed her and she jumped to her feet, squealing and protesting before sending a small wave of water in his direction. Laughing and

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cavorting in the shallow edges, they soon warmed up from exertion. “And, we’re off!” Ansel sat back down in his tube to float gently away. Kiria hurried to catch up. The current was sluggish at first. Holding each other’s hands, they drifted lazily along. “It’s beautiful,” said Kiria, lying back and staring up at the overhanging branches of elm and oak. “Yes, but it’s going to get a little rough soon,” grinned Ansel. The tubes bobbed slowly around a bend and Kiria’s pulse quickened at the sight of the river’s sloping descent up ahead. The water churned into small white curtains of rapids as it navigated larger rocks and a few fallen trees. “Are you s-sure this is s-safe?” Her teeth chattered from the chilly water. “Yes!” he laughed. “There aren’t any drops of more than a foot high. Just stay near me when I tell you the bridge is up ahead.” “A-all right,” said Kiria, tensing as they entered the rough water. “Keep your bottom up.” Ansel demonstrated by flattening himself out across his tube. “So you don’t get bruised on a rock.” She laughed and copied him. “Like you really care if my butt gets bruised,” she teased. Ansel grinned and gave her an exaggerated wink. She began to enjoy the faster ride; her tube turned and dipped along the water’s surface like a bobber on a fishing line. “Come over to this side of the river,” called Ansel, paddling with his hands. He grabbed onto an overhanging branch and waited as Kiria easily steered her tube to his side. After another few minutes of mildly churning rapids, the current slowed once more, to a languid flow. They held hands again; talking above the river’s now quiet gurgling. The sun sparkled through the fresh, clean air onto a million bits of mica embedded in the

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boulders. It was like floating through a fairy land, thought Kiria, feeling much more at ease. She saw a bed of wildflowers along the shore, and paddled across to pick some. Ansel let her go, seeing that she could capably maneuver her tube. Kiria plucked one flower after another as she floated slowly by, and then tied them together with a long blade of grass. Laying the bouquet on her stomach, she turned as Ansel called her. He was up ahead, motioning for her to come to the other side. Kiria started paddling across, but she bumped over a rock and the flowers fell into the water. “I’ll be right there!” she called, striking out to retrieve them. White cascades now surrounded her, but she no longer feared them. “No, Kiria!” yelled Ansel, even further downriver, “Get over to this side!” “Okay!” The bobbing bouquet was only a few feet away, but was moving as rapidly as she was, and it wasn’t easy to catch up to. “Kiria! Over here! Hurry!” Only a few more inches… “Kiria! The bridge! Get over here now!” She leaned forward and scooped up her flowers. A quick glance ahead revealed only a turn in the river’s course. Gripping the stems with her teeth, she hurriedly began to paddle across the river, with both hands. She could barely hear Ansel yelling from just beyond her view. Kiria struck out harder as her inner tube surged around the bend. Suddenly the bridge loomed above her, only a few hundred feet away, and terror hit her full force. She was in the middle of the river, and she wasn’t going to make it across. The bottomless, deep water rushed and roared towards two huge cement piers where a great pile of driftwood and debris had gathered at their bases. Kiria stopped paddling, dropped the flowers, and looked around frantically for Ansel. He was nowhere to be seen. She stared in horror at the great sluice

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of water plunging down underneath the debris. The current rushed forward, now splashing over her tube, nearly covering it. In moments, the watery hell yawned only a few yards ahead. No! This couldn’t be happening! Scanning the mass of tangled limbs, she saw several branches poking out from the pile, and she reached up to grab one. It broke, and she nearly slid off the tube. A larger limb protruded just over the spillway, and she lunged upward, grabbing hold of it just as her inner tube was slurped down like a toilet flushing into the deep, dark churning abyss below. She held on with a grip born from months of rock climbing and screamed Ansel’s name. Past events literally flashed through her mind. She wished fervently for another chance; she swore to God that she’d never lie again, she’d listen to Ansel, she’d be a saint, if only she lived! “Kiria! Thank God!” She looked up to see Ansel’s sheet-white face above her. He was crawling along a massive tree trunk in the middle of the heap. “Hold on! I’m coming!” Oh, my God, she thought, would he be able to reach her? She squeezed her hands tightly against the force of the water trying to suck her down. She was in up to her thighs, and couldn’t pull her feet out. What if her hand slipped? Ansel was here, she told herself, don’t panic, just hold on. He’s going to save you. She watched him inch towards her, trying to brace himself without shifting the lifeline of a branch that she clung to. He stretched himself out along a closer limb, keeping his legs wrapped around other branches that intertwined amid the debris. Then his hand was suddenly gripping her right wrist, and he was yelling at her to grab onto his wrist. Kiria stared up into his eyes, utterly unable to let go of the limb. She knew the second that he recognized her fear—his eyes seem to flash with the knowledge. She was too afraid to trust him to hold onto her. She shifted her

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gaze to the branch above her, trying to summon up the courage to let go. “Kiria!” His tone was now angry, and her eyes met his stormy blue ones. “Let go with just this one hand,” he told her, “Now!” She obeyed then, grabbing frantically, feeling a surge of victory when her fingers closed around his wrist. He pulled her toward him. She still held fast to the branch with her left hand. “Swing your other arm toward my other hand.” He held it toward her, fingers outstretched. She stared into his eyes and found the strength she needed. “Now!” he commanded, and Kiria thrust her left hand toward him while twisting sideways; he grabbed her wrist at the same time that she grabbed his. She now hung below him, just as she had to the branch. “I’m going to move back until you can climb up,” Ansel yelled. Kiria nodded, incapable of speech. Her teeth chattered rapidly from the paralyzing fear and icy coldness. As Ansel inched slowly back, she was pulled closer to the roaring rush of water. She could feel its suction growing stronger, and she gripped Ansel’s wrists even harder. Then she was pulled upward a few inches. Thank God! Little by little, she was rising, though the water was still above her knees. She concentrated on getting her right foot out to try to climb up, but quickly found it put too much pressure on both hands’ grip. Her left hand slipped down Ansel’s wrist! Panic struck, making her kick her legs frantically. “Stay still!” she heard him yell. She willed herself to go limp, except for her burning fingers, still clamped tightly around his wrists. He’d get her out. All she had to do was hang on and wait. Closing her eyes, she began to breathe slowly and deeply, all of her concentration on her fingers. The pain was becoming unbearable. And she’d thought a spanking had hurt! She’d give anything right now to go back to yesterday’s bare-bottomed blistering.

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After an interminable while, she looked down to see that her feet were nearly out of the water. Slowly and carefully, she lifted one leg and wedged her toes between two thick branches. Ansel must have felt the change in her weight; he yelled to her, “Don’t let go of me!” Then she was yanked about a foot higher, all at once. Her other foot found purchase, although she couldn’t feel a thing below her waist. She had to visually place her feet to climb up, but it went quickly from there. Legs numb and trembling, she reached the uppermost log and fell upon Ansel, who was lying prone on it. Kiria tried to let go of his wrists, but he only allowed one hand its freedom. He kept an iron grasp on her other arm as they picked their way across the logs and onto the bank. As soon as they touched dirt, he pulled her to him, hugging her tightly. He murmured something into her hair as she panted in immense joy and relief. No words were spoken as they collapsed onto the benevolent, grassy slope, still holding each other tightly. After a few minutes, Kiria finally found her voice. “Oh, m-my God,” she croaked, “I’ve n-never been so s-scared in my life!” Ansel suddenly let go of her and sat up. Kiria had only a second to glance up in surprise before he hauled her over his lap and began to spank her with full arm swings onto her wet, thin pants. Kiria shrieked automatically, but soon realized she could hardly feel a thing, she was so cold. “You didn’t listen!” he yelled, his voice hoarse, “You almost died!” His voice broke then, and the slaps became noticeably weaker. Kiria lay quietly crying into her hands, not from pain, but from sheer emotional shock. She tasted blood, and lifted her head to see the raw, torn flesh on her right arm where she’d scraped it before. He pulled her up onto his lap and held her tightly against his chest.

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Chapter Seven

“I’m sorry, Kiria,” he said , “I’m really sorry.” He pushed her gently away and bit the hem of his shirt with his teeth, tearing off a wide strip of cloth. Then he carefully wrapped it around her arm, where he’d gripped her so securely. He stared down at Kiria’s bare feet, noticing small cuts and abrasions, just now realizing that the water had stripped off her socks and sneakers. She began to shiver again, as shock drew near. She looked up at Ansel, her teeth blindingly white against her now blue lips. Near exhaustion, he picked her up and clumsily climbed the bank into a sunlit meadow of lush grasses. He stood her up beside him, and then started to pull her tee-shirt off over her head. “W-what are you doing?!” she protested, but was too weak to stop him. She covered her breasts as he flipped her bra hook apart and pulled it off as well. “You’re too cold,” he said, “you’re going into shock.” He jerked her pants down to her knees. “Sit down.” At least she’d quit arguing, he thought as she sat. He got her pants off completely, and then stripped his own clothes off. “I don’t have a blanket, so the sun will have to do what it can. Lie down and stop covering yourself up!” Kiria lay back on the warm grass, but kept her arms crossed over her breasts. Stubborn woman, thought Ansel. He could feel the sun warming his back, and knew it could work. Then he spied a

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large, flat slab of granite not too far away. Leaning down, he helped her up and they stumbled towards it. “I’m dizzy,” she said, sending a wave of fear through him. He stopped to press his fingertips alongside her neck; the carotid pulse was still strong and steady. They reached the rock, and she lay down on her belly. Ansel sat beside her for a moment, staring at the pink handprints on her ass. They stood out against her pale skin like a sunburn. Maybe he should spank her all over—could it warm her up? He quickly rejected the idea as he didn’t even trust his own judgment right now. The granite slab felt pleasantly warm, though not as hot as he’d hoped. It looked like the next heat source was his own body. It took all his willpower to move again, and he thought he might also be in the first stages of shock. But he got up and began to walk, slowly at first, then faster, until he was jogging in a wide circle around Kiria. He felt warm now, although his hands were still numbingly cold. He pushed himself harder, now regretting the fact that he was in good shape. It would take a lot to get him sweating. As soon as he felt moisture begin to bead on his forehead, he went straight to Kiria and lay down beside her, pressing himself against her. “Mmm…” She moaned and molded her body to his. “You’re so warm.” After a little while, he checked her pulse and was relieved to find it was normal. “Turn over,” he told her. As her face came into view, he saw that her lips were still bluish, but her cheeks had some color in them. “I think I’m okay, now,” she whispered. “I’m warm and I’m not dizzy anymore.” “It’s not over, by a long shot,” he informed her, stroking her wet hair back from her face and gazing into her eyes. Why did they look so pale? “We’re

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way out on the preserve, we’re tired, and we have no weapons.” Kiria shot straight up, her back to him as she scanned the meadow. “You mean, that bobcat could be around here?” her voice squeaked. “It’s not his usual haunt—his territory’s only about a mile square, over that way.” Ansel pointed behind her. “And bobcats prefer to be out in the evening and at night… but mine was hunting in late morning, the other day when you met him. So, yes, he could be around here.” “Where’re my clothes? I want to get out of here!” “Over there on the grass, but you can’t put them on, yet.” “Why not?” “They’re wet. You’ll get cold again.” “I don’t care; I want to leave, now! Is that bush over there moving?” She squinted at the riverbank. “No. You need to lie back down and rest a while longer.” “What, so that damn cat can attack us like sitting ducks?” Ansel sat up behind her, and she crossed her arms over her naked breasts. “Look,” he said, “the bobcat’s not interested in us as long as we don’t bother him. Now, lie down or I’ll spank you again, right here.” ______________ Kiria lay down; although she suspected that he wouldn’t risk making that much noise where the bobcat might hear it. “And don’t think you’re not getting it good when we get back,” he lectured. “I’m going to paddle your ass red for not listening to me.” “What! You already spanked me!” she objected, her heart fluttering. “Apparently not enough—you’re still arguing with me. I’ve told you, out here it’s a different

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world; a dangerous world, and your only job is to do exactly what I say, when I say it. I couldn’t believe you kept chasing after those flowers even while I was yelling at you to hurry to the other side!” “Look, I know I was foolish to do that, Ansel. Believe me; nearly being sucked under that horrible bridge was terrifying! I’ve learned my lesson, and I promise, I’ll listen from now on.” She watched, fascinated, as his face flushed pink. “Kiria,” he said, his calm tone belying his anger. “You haven’t learned a thing. You argued with me over taking those wet, cold clothes off. You refused to stop covering yourself up. You argued with me over lying down to rest. You argued with me over not putting the clothes back on. Just when, exactly, are you going to trust me and do what I say, when I say it, out here?” Kiria’s jaw gaped in amazement. She really had done all that he just said! Even after nearly ending up in a cold, watery grave! Ansel pushed his point. “And I’ll bet, if that bobcat does come by to check us out, I’ll try to protect you, and you’ll stop and argue with me while the cat has us for dinner!” Kiria felt her lower lip tremble and tears welled up, blurring her vision. Hastily swiping them with the back of her hand, she rolled onto her stomach and quietly let the tears flow. “I-I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” she cried. She knew that this situation was entirely her fault. ______________ Ansel stretched out beside her, pulling her up against his chest. “Hush, now,” he whispered near her ear. “You’re just tired, and scared, and it’ll get better, I promise.” He propped his head up on one arm and kept watch as she slowly drifted off to sleep. Perhaps he shouldn’t have brought her out here to run the

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rapids. But he’d done it many, many times alone and with friends, and nothing bad had ever happened before. Of course, his friends had all carefully followed his directions until they knew the course as well as he. Kiria was simply unused to dangerous situations, and had been distracted by the damn flowers. He had to impress upon her the life and death realities of even a simple adventure like today’s. He had to, or she wouldn’t be able to go with him again. After about an hour, Kiria’s body had completely relaxed. Her pulse was strong and steady, and in her sleep, she’d sprawled out on her back next to him. Ansel was having difficulty keeping his eyes and thoughts on the area around him, instead of the erotic presentation right under his nose. Her perfectly formed breasts rose from her chest like halved cantaloupes, their nipples large and brown. He blew across one, watching it tighten and peak. This was dangerous in itself, he sternly told himself. He got up and put his barely-damp shirt on, scanning the meadow for the thousandth time. He reached down for Kiria’s tee-shirt; it was still wet, although he’d spread it out on the grass. So was her bra. Taking off his shirt, he laid it over her. “Kiria,” he called, watching her eyes slowly open, “it’s time to move on.” She slowly sat up and blinked. “Are you okay?” “Yes,” she whispered, her eyes beginning to focus. Looking down at herself, she hastily hugged his shirt up to her neck. “You’re going to have to wear my shirt. Your clothes are still wet.” Kiria turned her back to him and put her arms through the sleeves of his oxford casual shirt. She slowly buttoned it up while looking around the meadow. “What about my pants?” “They’re almost dry.” Ansel threw them to her and smiled as she tried unsuccessfully to keep her bottom covered and tug the material up at the

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same time. His shirt only reached just below her waist, since he’d ripped the lower edge off earlier. The red marks across her cheeks had completely faded away, leaving only little red dots from the rock, and he felt better about having to paddle her later. She turned to face him, running a hand through her tangled, nearly dry hair. “Sit down and wait here a minute,” he told her, and she quietly obeyed. Ansel soon returned with several large chunks of tree bark. Before Kiria could object, he’d ripped her tee-shirt in half and was kneeling in front of her. He wrapped and tied the damp cloth firmly around her feet, the bark bound to her soles. “I paid $30 for that shirt at a concert,” she complained as he worked. “How much would you pay to not walk barefoot for several miles?” ______________ She could see his point. “See how that feels,” he said, backing away. Kiria stood up and took a few tentative steps. “It’s fine,” she smiled at him. “My inner tube’s still down on the bank, but I don’t want to get back in the water today,” he told her. Kiria nodded, and then took his outstretched hand as they walked back to the river to follow it down the gently sloping grade of the mountain’s east side. Nearly an hour later, having seen no signs of wildlife except rabbits, Ansel pointed out the roof of his house, just over a rise. “You’ve held up pretty well on this hike,” he told Kiria. “Would you like me to carry you the rest of the way?” Kiria laughed. “No, I can do it.” “Do your feet hurt?” “No,” she said, too quickly. When he caught her eye, she muttered, “Well… yes… a little.”

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“Get up on my back.” He turned around and squatted down. “I don’t want to,” she began, but then remembered her promise to do as he said. “Oh, all right!” she grumbled. Leaning over him, she put her arms around his neck as he hooked her legs to his sides and stood up. She felt like a child, being carried this way. Ten minutes later, he let her get down so he could open the locked gate to the high, electrical fence that enclosed several acres of lawn around the house. Kiria sat down on the soft, manicured grass and untied the bark from her feet. Rubbing her toes ruefully, she waited for Ansel to reset the gate’s lock. “Another five minutes of walking, and you’d have had blisters,” he remarked, bending down to inspect her feet. He reached out to help her up, and they walked to the house, hand in hand. Ansel led her into his bedroom. Kiria had loved the huge room at first sight, with its blue Berber carpeting and floor-length drapes over French doors that led to the back patio. The bed was the centerpiece, a king-sized, mahogany four-poster with dark and light blue quilts. A mahogany entertainment center and bookshelves covered one twenty-foot wall. Ansel continued into the master bath as she reluctantly followed. He laid out towels and a bathrobe, smiled, and left the room. Kiria looked around her, thinking that it was bigger than her entire bedroom at home. The bathroom in the hall that she’d used on her previous visit was only half this size. Everything was meticulously clean, and she blushed at the thought of her small, dusty bedroom. No wonder he’d said she needed a keeper. Well, she thought, if she had a house like this, she’d certainly keep it clean. Home was just home, and no one had ever noticed before if it wasn’t spic and span. Kiria turned on the gold, metal-plated tap

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in the shower and stepped in to wash away the little bits of grass and rock that clung to her entire body. She shampooed her hair as best she could with one hand; she didn’t want to get the bandage on her arm wet. Kiria carefully dried the tap and shower walls before stepping out onto the marble floor. She put on the thick velour robe, brushed out her hair, and dried the floor before hanging the towels neatly on a gold bar along one wall. Surely he wouldn’t think her a slob now. She cringed as she remembered he’d gone into her bathroom at home yesterday; the counters were covered with makeup jars and hair-styling aids. At least the toilet got a weekly scrubbing, if nothing else. She went back out to the kitchen, where Ansel was busy at one of the counters, slicing up some fruit. “Thanks for the shower,” she announced, feeling totally refreshed. “Sit,” he said, as she passed the kitchen table. Kiria stopped and stared at him in surprise. “You know, I don’t have to do what you say anymore . We’re safely back here, not out there.” Ansel put the knife down and turned around, his eyes confronting her quietly. “Please sit down,” he said, and Kiria sat. She watched him warily as he filled up a large, deep pan with hot, soapy water and laid it on the floor in front of her. He guided her feet into it and she slumped back in her chair, smiling. He brought another, smaller pan, and took her right hand in his, as if to remove the makeshift bandage. “I can do it!” she objected, pulling her arm back. Ansel let her try, but he’d knotted the frayed ends of the cloth tightly, and she worried it with her teeth and her other hand while he poured them glasses of wine. She glanced up as he set the drinks down; then she picked one up and gulped down nearly half of it.

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“Thanks.” She breathed, smiling. “I needed that.” “What you need is a good spanking, but it can wait,” he retorted, and then held a pair of scissors out to her. Kiria ignored his comment and set to cutting the bandage apart. It wasn’t easy with her left hand. Wincing and whimpering, she tried to peel it slowly off where the clotted blood had glued it on. “Kiria,” sighed Ansel, “let me do it.” “No.” She frowned at him. “You’re just prolonging the pain.” “I’ll get it off.” Ansel had had enough, however, and he grabbed her hand and plunged it into the waiting bowl of hot water. “Just let it soak off.” “Oh.” Kiria felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. Why was she so stupid around him? She’d been an ‘A’ student in school, so why was common sense beyond her whenever Ansel was near? “I’ll be back shortly. Keep those wounds soaking,” he told her, and then disappeared down the hall. She then heard the shower running. Ansel returned wearing shorts, a tee-shirt, and a faint odor of cologne. He lined up a myriad of bandages and ointments on the table, and Kiria watched him, amused. He really did like to play doctor. Then he turned on the TV in the corner of the kitchen, and they watched “Wheel of Fortune” for a while, sipping on the wine. Kiria beat him on only one puzzle as they both shouted out possible solutions, laughing at each other. She knew she was good at it; she always beat her friends and her mother, but Ansel managed to outshine her even in this. Secretly, she was happy that he was so smart, but her own ego felt nearly as bruised as her body. The show went off, and Ansel put a towel in his lap. He motioned for her to give him a foot, and she couldn’t resist sloshing some of the water onto his

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shoes as she obeyed. He frowned down at her, but said nothing, inspecting her foot all over for any serious wounds. Satisfied, he dried it thoroughly, massaged antibiotic ointment all over it, and put a clean, over-sized white sock on her. Kiria thoroughly enjoyed his ministrations and eagerly held out her other foot for the same treatment. Her arm was a different story. She felt a little sick when she saw the pink bandage floating in the red water. She turned away as Ansel calmly pulled her hand out and inspected the wound. “It’s not as bad as it looked before,” he told her. Kiria let him poke at it, clean it, apply ointment, and bandage it while she tried to concentrate on the TV. A comedy show was on, but she didn’t find it particularly amusing. Her arm jerked with each little stab of pain. Finally, it was all over with, and Ansel efficiently cleaned up the mess he’d made. He brought a plate of sliced fruit to the table and set it down in front of her. Kiria had emptied her wine glass, and got up to fill it with fresh water. They ate silently, looking at each other now and then as strawberry and peach slices passed their lips. “Thank you,” she told him, straightening her robe in front. “You’re welcome,” he smiled, but then his eyes grew serious as he gazed at her silently for a few long moments. Kiria knew what was coming, but she tried to get out of it anyway. “May I borrow some clothes to go home in?” He nodded, and she stood up, pulling the robe’s belt close. “We really need to get back,” she said, “my mother’s waiting to teach me how to make Crepe Suzettes, and I don’t know what else she’s planned.” Ansel nodded again. “We’ll be leaving as soon as we take care of your listening problem.”

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Kiria sat back down, nervously playing with the soft, terrycloth belt. Unable to meet his gaze, she stared down at the table. The grandfather clock in the living room began to chime five o’clock. “It’s really late,” she pleaded, “Please, let’s go!” “There’s nothing I’d like better than to forget this whole thing and just put it behind us, Kiria. The only reason I’m doing this is to keep you safe the next time we go out on the ranch. So, it’s your choice. If you don’t want to go out there again, then it doesn’t really matter, and we can leave now.” Kiria met his solemn expression with her own. “I… But… I really do want to go back out there with you again. I don’t suppose you’d consider all of these bruises and scrapes enough of a deterrent?” Ansel slowly shook his head. “Almost drowning didn’t stop you from arguing and not following instructions. Those little scrapes won’t make a difference.” He stood up and held out his hand to her. She stared at it miserably for a moment before reluctantly taking it and standing up. He led her to his bedroom, left her by the bed, and pulled a straight-backed chair to the middle of the room. A frisson of fear ran down her spine. Would he make her lie over the chair? It seemed impersonal and cold. Taking a deep breath, she resolved to face this unpleasant event like an adult. An adult who was about to get paddled, she ruefully reminded herself. Ansel went to his closet and reached up onto the top shelf, bringing out a long, wide paddle of beautifully varnished oak. “Where did you get that?” asked Kiria, her heart racing as he ran his hand along its smooth edges. “My grandfather made it,” he replied. “Whatever for?” Morbid curiosity made her ask, but deep down, she knew. “For correcting serious offenses.” “Was it ever used on you?”

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“Only once… a long time ago. I’d done something really foolish.” “What?” “He’d taught me how to shoot a rifle; I was only about ten years old. I didn’t remember to lock the trigger, even though he’d drilled me about a hundred times to do so. I’d just been squirrel hunting, and I walked into his house, propped the rifle up against the wall, and it went off. Blew a hole through the ceiling and the roof.” Kiria suddenly felt like laughing, but Ansel’s expression remained solemn. “He jumped up from the kitchen table, grabbed me by the ear, and hauled me out to the barn. He had this paddle hanging on the wall out there, and though I’d seen it before, I’d never seen it used. He bent me over his workbench, yanked my britches down, and paddled me so hard that I couldn’t sit down for days. I’ll never forget how bad it hurt; my backside was red and swollen for hours.” Kiria felt tears prick at her eyes, and she backed up a step involuntarily. “I’m not going to blister you that hard, Kiria, but you’re going to remember this the next time we go out on the ranch.” “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I’ll remember! You don’t have to do this!” she argued, backing up another step. “Okay,” he said, tossing the paddle onto the bed. “Let’s go over to your mom’s.” A wave of relief rushed through her, making her laugh, although somewhat hysterically. Then she remembered his earlier words, and sobered. “But… you’re not going to let me go on any more adventures with you, are you?” “Nope.” He walked to the bedroom door. “Are you coming?” Kiria stood frozen in place, unable to determine which was worse. “Never?”

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He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m not risking your lif e out there again. Get paddled, or don’t go. It’s that simple.” “You won’t do it too hard? I mean… my ass won’t get swollen, right?” “Right.” Kiria’s thoughts flashed back to him holding his hand out to her when she was hanging from that branch. ‘Trust me,’ he’d said. She had to trust him. “Oh… okay…” “You’re telling me you’ll take the paddling?” “Yeah… yes.” Like a snake uncoiling to strike, he was across the room and taking her by the hand a second later, the paddle already in his other hand. “I’m not giving you time to change your mind, this time,” she heard him mutter, and then he sat in the chair and had her dangling over his lap, her robe flipped up, her bare bottom exposed. She bit her lip to stop the objection that was screaming to get out. The first strike of the paddle hit both of her cheeks at once. She shrieked, kicking her legs up, apart, anywhere to escape the burning sting. The pain was mind-blowing; why had she ever agreed to this? Before she could protest, another smack lit her backside on fire. She moved forward, away from it, her fingers scrabbling for a hold on the carpet. Again, the hard wood landed. She struggled wildly to get away and finally found her voice. “No! Aaagh! Stop! Please!” He stopped. “Are you going to listen to me next time?” “Yes! I promise!” The wood bit into her several more times in rapid succession. Kiria locked her fingers into the plush carpet and held on tightly, still kicking her legs up. Ansel paused once more. “Are you going to argue with me when we’re out there?” “No! I’ll never argue again! Please, Ansel, please let me go!” she cried.

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“We’re almost done,” he told her, “but you have to stop fighting me.” Kiria tried to relax her body, but when the paddle smacked across her burning backside again, she nearly twisted herself off his lap. Ansel held her tightly and slowed the pace, giving her time to think between each strike. Finally, sobbing with pain, she was able to keep still through several smacks, and he pulled her up to sit on his lap. She slid down to her knees on the carpet and covered her face with her hands. Picking her up like a baby, Ansel carried her to the bed. He lay down beside her and hugged her tightly as she wept, gently stroking her hair. Neither of them spoke for some time, and Kiria eventually stopped crying as the pain began to fade. At last, he said quietly, “Think you’ll remember this, next time we go out there?” She vigorously nodded her head. Seeing the raging water again in her mind, s he knew she was lucky to be alive, and that Ansel was only trying to make sure she was safe the next time. She wiped her face on her sleeve and snuggled up closer to him. Suddenly it all made sense—crime and punishment, sin and forgiveness, right and wrong. Ansel did this because he cared. She sighed contentedly as he stroked her back. Several minutes later, Ansel rolled over to sit up. “We’ve got to go, now.” Kiria got up when he threw a pair of sweat pants and a tee-shirt at her. She hurriedly got dressed, wincing as the pants slid up over her bottom. “I guess I’ll have to go with no shoes,” she said, looking down at her stockinged feet. There was no answer, and she turned to see that Ansel had left the room. She picked up the robe and hung it up in the bathroom. ______________ Kiria and her mother cooked dinner that night, while Ansel sat at the kitchen table entertaining

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them with stories from his wildlife series. The meal was perfect, and Kiria had learned a lot during its preparation. Mostly, that she preferred standing to sitting. Her bottom felt like one colossal bruise throbbing against the hard, wooden kitchen chair, and she restlessly shifted her weight. Then they went in the living room and talked for a while. The softer sofa cushions were a comfort, at least. In a little while, Ansel stood up and told them he had to leave. He had an early filming in the morning, and it would probably last until late at night. Kiria tried not to let her disappointment show as they walked outside to say goodnight. As soon as the door had shut, Ansel put his arms around her, and she turned her face up to his. “I’m really going to miss you tomorrow,” he told her, his blue eyes speaking volumes. “Me, too,” she murmured. He leaned down to kiss her, sending a wild surge of pleasure pulsing down to settle burning in the depths of her groin. Kiria shivered and wondered what making love would be like, when a simple kiss could do all that. He promised to call her when he reached home, and she watched him drive slowly away. She spent the next hour telling her mother most of what had happened that day, but she down-played the incident at the bridge, and left the paddling out altogether. ______________ Kiria had planned on creating her final painting for the mayor’s office the next morning, but she awoke to find her entire body aching. Thinking she had the flu, she dragged herself out of bed and headed for the medicine cabinet in the kitchen. She swallowed four ibuprofen tablets before realizing why she felt so bad. Her backside ached a little, but it was her arm muscles that really burned. Despite

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their normally well-toned state, yesterday’s literal cliffhanger had stressed them tremendously. Kiria stretched cautiously, groaning in pain as her mother entered the kitchen. “Do your muscles ache?” asked Angela, grinning at her daughter. “I feel awful!” Kiria sat down gingerly at the table. “I’m just going to stay home and relax today, and maybe it’ll be better by tomorrow.” “Probably so,” said Angela. “While you’re recuperating, would you mind washing a load of towels?” “Sure, Mom.” She blew her mother a kiss as she left for work. Soon Kiria was propped sideways on the living room sofa, watching TV and comforting herself with popcorn and hot chocolate. Ansel called her from his cell phone during a break around noon, excitedly telling her about the filming. Kiria listened intently to his fascinating monologue. They were doing a show on the snake tagging, and would be demonstrating the technique tomorrow. She wondered who would be doing the injections, but she didn’t ask. He couldn’t talk for very long, and hurried back to his project after hearing that she was fine. Kiria watched another movie and then fell asleep on the couch. Angela arrived home from work, picking up the newspaper from the yard on her way in and tossing it onto a recliner as she entered the house. “Are you all right?” she asked when she saw Kiria on the sofa, surrounded by the debris of an entire day of snacking. “Much better than this morning,” replied Kiria. She sat up and stretched. The doorbell rang, and Angela turned to answer it. Ansel was there on the porch, and she merrily invited him in.

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“Ansel!” exclaimed Kiria, her face lighting up. She glanced down at her thin, pink silk pajamas and pulled up her blanket, covering herself. Ansel took in the trash-strewn coffee table and Kiria’s present garb in one sweeping glance. “We finished early today,” he said, “so I thought I’d surprise you and just drop by…” Kiria got up, wincing, bringing the blanket with her. “Let me just throw some clothes on; I’ll be right back.” “No,” said Ansel, and she sat back down. “You’re fine like you are. Are you okay?” “Sure…” she began, and then realized she couldn’t lie about anything. “Well, every muscle in my body hurts like hell from yesterday’s adventure.” She gave him a sheepish grin. But Ansel didn’t smile back. He moved the newspaper from the recliner and put it in his lap as he sat to face her. “Kiria… why did you tell me over the phone, earlier, that you were fine?”

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Chapter Eight

Kiria looked to her mother for help, but Angela had escaped into the kitchen to start making dinner. “I am fine, Ansel. I just have some sore muscles, that’s all.” “Fine means nothing’s wrong. Why didn’t you tell me?” Kiria snuggled down into the sofa cushions, wishing she could disappear. “Look, I didn’t want to bother you while you were working. I didn’t expect to see you today, and I’m sure I’ll be fine by tomorrow.” “Kiria,” he said, gazing at her intently, “not telling me something is the same as lying about it.” She stared at an empty potato chip bag on the floor and mumbled, “You didn’t have much time to talk to me. I didn’t want to waste it discussing my stupid muscle aches.” After a long moment of reflection, he finally smiled at her, and then shook his head. “Let me spell this out. I expect you to tell me the truth when I ask you how you are. Is that so hard to do?” “No...” She met his gaze, feeling like a child yet again. “But I don’t want you to think I’m a hypochondriac or something. It seems like you’re always having to take care of me.” “I like to do it.” Ansel tossed the newspaper onto the coffee table. As he got up and sat down beside her on the sofa, the paper slid to the floor and flipped open, exposing the front page. Leaning forward to pick it up, Kiria stared in shock at the color photo of herself sitting

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precariously on the edge of the post office’s roof. She glanced up quickly at Ansel; he was looking at the TV. Folding the paper carefully in half and grabbing the empty chip bag, she nonchalantly set them on the table. Anger at Randy Parsons surged through her mind as Ansel casually put an arm about her shoulders. That son-of-a bitch! After all that work she’d done for him! Why hadn’t she demanded the film from the camera? Her hands were trembling, and she clasped them firmly in her lap. “Are you sure you’re all right” He rubbed her shoulder. “Yes,” she replied, and snuggled closer to him. Now she had to lie to Ansel again, and all because of that double-crossing Randy. Soon Angela called them to eat. They had a delicious meal of lasagna and salad and everyone pitched in to clean up afterward. Kiria cleaned up the mess in the living room, and then Ansel massaged Kiria’s back, on the sofa, until she fell asleep beneath his magic hands. Several hours later, Kiria woke up, lying against Ansel’s chest. She sat up and blinked at the eleven o’clock news glowing softly from the TV set. Her mother glanced up from the recliner and smiled. “I just couldn’t make myself wake you two up,” Angela admitted. Kiria smiled back, but her gaze was drawn to Ansel’s sleeping form. His head lolled back against a pillow, moving slightly with each deep, easy breath he took. His features in repose were so handsome, she felt almost in awe of his presence here, on their beat-up old couch. “I’m glad he doesn’t snore,” Kiria said softly. “Only when I’m asleep.” His quiet reply startled her. She picked up a pillow and tossed it onto his face as he laughed aloud. “You’re awful,” she told him. He sat up and tickled her ribs as she struggled to get away.

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“Ow, ow, ow!” she laughed. “Stop it!” “You can sleep here for the night if you’d like,” Angela interrupted, and Kiria stared at her in surprise. “Mother!” “I mean on the couch, of course,” she laughed. “We do have to be up by four o’clock, so that’s a good idea, thanks,” Ansel said. “We?” asked Kiria. “For the snake-tagging, remember?” “Me?” “Did I forget to ask you?” “Yes…” “Oh, sorry, must have slipped my mind. Anyway, we have to be on site by six o’clock. I’ll go over the rules with you in the morning.” He yawned and stretched, his biceps bulging to impossible proportions. “What rules?” “Just simple camera directions and stuff. Mostly you just do exactly what I tell you to, while we’re filming.” Kiria grimaced . “Nothing new about that… What should I wear?” Ansel yawned again. “Jeans. A shirt. A bra…” Kiria hit his arm and he grinned. “Look, if I’m going to be on TV, which I’m not so sure about yet, I want to look my best!” “You can glop on all that make-up if you want, but don’t wear anything fancy. It’s a nature shoot. You need outdoor clothing. Long pants, at least, no shorts.” “Okay. I’m going to bed now, then,” said Kiria, and began to extricate herself from the blanket. As soon as she got up, Ansel stretched himself out along the cushions and propped a pillow under his neck. Kiria covered him with the blanket and smiled down into his half-open blue eyes. “Would you get me an alarm clock, baby?” he asked, and she left to find hers. He’d called her

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‘baby.’ She liked that, even though she wanted to look more grown-up in his eyes, not like a little baby that had to be protected all the time. Kiria set the alarm for four a.m. and put it down on the coffee table, kissing Ansel lightly on the cheek before leaving the room. He smiled and mumbled goodnight. ______________ At four-thirty, Angela woke up suddenly from a deep sleep. She could hear snoring from the living room, and she smiled to herself as she realized who was making the sound. She glanced at her clock radio, and then jumped out of bed to shake Ansel’s shoulder. He sat up quickly, immediately awake, and stared down at the alarm clock. “Damn!” he muttered, and Angela went back down the hall to wake up her daughter. Kiria flew from the bed and down the hall to the bathroom, running smack into its closed door. She pounded on it and heard Ansel telling her to wait. He soon emerged, and she shot past him, slamming the door behind her. Her muscles still ached, but not nearly as much as they had the day before. “Where’s a towel?” Ansel called through the door. “I didn’t see any in there.” Kiria suddenly remembered her mother asking her to wash a load. “Um… there aren’t any clean ones,” she called back. “We’ll have to shower at my house, then. Be ready in five minutes!” Angela stood in her bedroom door, arms crossed and foot tapping when Kiria rushed out of the bathroom. “Why didn’t you wash the towels yesterday?” Kiria stopped, surprised, and stared at her mother for a brief moment. “I just forgot, Mom,” she replied, and hurried into her room to find some clothes.

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“Why didn’t your alarm clock go off?” asked Ansel from the other end of the hall. “I don’t know,” whined Kiria. “Maybe I forgot to pull the little button out.” Ansel picked it up to see; the button was pushed in. “Kiria, you’ve got two minutes to get your butt out this door,” he warned, “or I’m going to warm it up for you!” “Spank her for me, too,” called Angela, and shut her bedroom door. Ansel smiled to himself. “Oh, for goodness’ sake!” complained Kiria, hurrying out to the living room with a bag of cosmetics and clothing. She threw on a jacket and followed Ansel out the door to his Jeep. They rode in silence, much to Kiria’s relief. She’d been expecting a lecture from him on her carelessness. They showered and dressed at Ansel’s house, using different bathrooms, and made it to the filming location a few minutes before six. The sky was just blooming into daylight, casting soft shadows across the damp meadow grass. “I’m so glad we made it on time!” Kiria whispered to Ansel as they walked up, hand in hand. “It would have been nice to have eaten something first. We probably won’t break until noon.” Ansel squeezed her hand hard and then let it go. Knowing it was her fault that they hadn’t had time to eat, Kiria hung back while he approached a few men gathered beside a camper. One of them handed Ansel a cup of steaming coffee, and they stood talking for a few minutes. Kiria wanted some coffee pretty badly, but she was too shy to go up there and ask. After about ten minutes, Ansel called her over, handed her a hot, steaming cup, and introduced her to the crew. The director, Ted Stevenson, shook her hand. “I’ve been wondering what Ansel’s been up to this past week,” he told her. “I had a hell of a time

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trying to get hold of him.” He gave her a big grin. “Now I know why.” Kiria smiled back, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. It had never occurred to her before now, that others might want Ansel’s time. She felt especially happy that he’d spent it with her. “Pleased to meet you,” she responded. “Have I met you before?” Ted scrutinized her face. “No, I don’t believe so.” He stepped back and looked thoughtful for a moment as Ansel presented the other two men simply as Bill and Kevin, both cameramen. The men returned to mapping out their plan for the day’s filming. By seven o’clock, several more members had arrived, including a woman, introduced as Mary Lawrence. Mary had Kiria sign release forms absolving the studio of any liability should she be injured. She told her to stay back until she was needed, and Kiria nodded, fully accepting of her role as an inexperienced guest. The crew got along well together, she mused as she watched them work. Everyone joked with each other, but they all interacted mostly with the show’s star. Finally, Ansel motioned her over and explained what would happen soon. They would search for snakes along the riverbank, as they had on their previous outing. If they didn’t find any within an hour or so, then they would ‘plant’ one under a rock and ‘find’ it. Kiria smiled at the pretense, but she wasn’t surprised. Ansel gave her two syringes to carry, and she tucked them securely into her shirt pocket. Then they were off through the security gate and hiking across the meadows with the crew close behind. Although Kiria wasn’t camera-shy, she avoided the lens as much as possible. Ansel was the star, after all, and she was content to stay in the background. She almost missed her cue when Ansel found a large copperhead under a rock ledge.

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“Kiria!” he called, holding the snake up for the camera. His fist firmly gripped its neck, right behind the rusty patch for which it was named. Kiria walked up as Ansel told his audience all about the snake. “Copperheads bite more people than any other snake in the United States, most years,” said Ansel. “But its venom is the least poisonous.” Ansel handed the tail to Kiria, who had a sudden urge to run away as fast as she could. She gritted her teeth and accepted it, holding on firmly as Ansel pointed out various markings on the snake’s skin. “Don’t try this at home,” said Ansel, grinning at the cliché. “Or anywhere else,” muttered Kiria. She bravely stroked the snake’s belly and let it wind its tail about her forearm. Ansel continued to talk to his audience while stretching out the serpent for Kiria to inject it. Soon the shoot was over, and Kiria and Ansel walked back to the camper together. “I’m proud of your performance today,” said Ansel. “You didn’t blink an eye, and your hands were as steady as a rock.” “Thank you,” she blushed. “You did so well, that I’m not even going to spank you for almost making us late this morning.” Kiria blushed even harder and quickly glanced around to see if anyone was within hearing distance. “All I did was forget to pull a little button out,” she objected. “And you didn’t wash towels for your mother… Look, I’m really going out on a limb here; she told me to spank you, and I’m directly defying her wishes.” Turning back to Ansel’s grinning face, Kiria stuck her tongue out. This earned her a quick smack on the bottom, and she frantically looked around again for possible witnesses while he laughed quietly beside her.

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Back at the camper, Kiria felt Ted’s eyes on her while the crew packed up their equipment. Ansel didn’t seem to notice, and she shrugged it off as her imagination. Mary came up to tell her that she’d done well for a first film shoot, and shook her hand. Kiria felt extremely happy. Just before the crew left, Ted walked up to Kiria, his face alight with some inner secret. He stood grinning before her, and blurted out, “I finally figured out who you are!” “You did?” Kiria asked, a little wary. Surely he hadn’t read the little local paper! “You’re that artist that was in the newspaper yesterday!” He smiled smugly. “Oh! Yeah, that would be me,” said Kiria, her heart sinking. “Thank you for noticing, but it was nothing, really.” She gave him a big smile and turned toward Ansel, anxious to end the conversation. “You had a lot of nerve; sitting up there so precariously,” continued Ted, “No wonder you’re not afraid of snakes.” Ansel’s eyes met Kiria’s at that moment, and there was no mistaking the quick flash of surprise he didn’t try to hide. “Th-thank you,” said Kiria again, feeling a little uneasy as Ansel strode to her side. “You had your picture in the paper yesterday?” he asked casually, but his hand moved behind her to possessively rest on one buttock. “Mm-hmm.” Kiria smiled up at him and then turned back to Ted. “Nice to meet you, Ted. I’ve got to get home now and help my mother.” She put her hand out, but Ted didn’t even see it, so intent was he to tell Ansel the details. “It was right on the front page of the local paper,” Ted told Ansel, “She was sitting on the roof of the post office, on this little stool, with her easel to one side. She was leaning over the edge and it looked like she’d fall off if she leaned an inch further. It was a great shot!”

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“Oh, sort of a human interest story, huh?” Ansel patted her bottom lightly. “More like a daredevil act,” laughed Ted. “Bring her again sometime, Ansel. I’d like to see what else she’s willing to try.” Ted gave her a big grin, shook her now limp hand, and got into the big quad cab that hauled the camper. Kiria watched nervously as they pulled out, Mary Lawrence following them in her silver Mercedes. They all waved cheerily good-bye as Kiria pasted on a smile and waved back. As soon as the vehicles turned out onto the highway, Ansel took a firm hold of her upper arm and began to walk her toward the house. Kiria hurried along beside him, barely able to keep up with his long, angry stride. He picked up two newspapers from his front step, pulled out his keys, and opened the front door. The door shut ominously behind them as he propelled Kiria into the kitchen, sat her down in a chair, and spread the newspapers out on the large table. The local paper’s front-page photo vividly confirmed Ted’s account. “Explain this, please,” said Ansel, although it sounded more like a demand than a request. “I had to get the perfect view,” Kiria told him. “My paintings have to be realistic; otherwise, no one will want them.” “It was dangerous,” retorted Ansel. “Not as much as right now,” she muttered. Ansel crossed his arms and stood silently over her for a long moment. “You knew about this last night, didn’t you?” “Well, only after the paper fell on the floor. I saw it and folded it up.” “You hid it from me. Is that why you were acting so keyed up?” “Not exactly,” Kiria admitted. “I was angry. I’d seen Randy Parsons take that picture from the newspaper office across the street, and I ran over and made a bargain with him right then. I had to

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clean his whole office, and he promised not to publish it. Then he did it anyway, so I did all that work for nothing,” her tone was bitter now. “So, he deceived you. It doesn’t feel very good, does it?” Kiria looked up at him, her eyes wide with sudden realization. “No,” she whispered and shook her head. “He lied to you, and you feel like you’ve been plotted against.” “Yes.” “You’re wondering why he would do such a thing to you.” Kiria dropped her gaze and stared at the dishwasher across the room. Its ebony veneer seemed like a black hole in space, as her thoughts expanded in its depths for several long moments. She turned to Ansel with a solemn regard. “He just wanted the shot for his front page. He didn’t care that I didn’t want it, he just lied and did it anyway, knowing there would be nothing I could do about it.” “Why didn’t you want it published?” “Because…” “You didn’t want the publicity?” “No…” “You did want the publicity?” “I… I didn’t mind the publicity, but I didn’t… I didn’t want you to see the picture.” Shame flooded her, making her face flush. Why did she feel this bad about it? she wondered. It was just a simple picture, for God’s sake. “You know, if I had seen this picture yesterday, I would’ve been worried about you, and I might even have spanked you for endangering yourself again.” “Maybe... I thought you were only worried about me being in danger on your property?”

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“If you didn’t understand me fully when we talked about endangering yourself, then why did you hide this from me?” “I dunno.” “Well, I know. You knew I’d have a problem with it.” “I kind of thought so, but I wasn’t sure.” Kiria wanted to slink into a hole in the ground as he continued to gaze at her, recrimination in his eyes. Would this be the last straw? Would he finally dump her now? “You were real mad at this guy for doing this, huh?” he asked, and when she nodded, he continued, “He lied to you, and he didn’t care if it hurt you or not. I just want to know one thing…” Ansel put his hand under her chin. “Look at me.” His eyes burned into hers. “Do you care whether your lies and dangerous stunts hurt me or not?” His ex-fiancée’s picture flashed through her mind. But she’d been a gorgeous girl, a rich girl, someone worthy of Ansel’s good looks and status. This was just too much for her to absorb. Guilt was a new concept, and it pressed down heavily now, until she could bear it no longer. Suddenly, she didn’t want to be safe and protected; she didn’t want to be cared for; she didn’t want to be constantly trying to be a better person. She wanted only to stop having to defend her actions from his close scrutiny. Even if it meant losing him. The rope snapped, and she turned on him. “All I did was paint a picture, something I’m likely to do quite often in the future. It’s not my fault that Randy took that picture, and it’s not my fault that you don’t approve of it. I had no choice but to try to hide it from you.” Ansel stared down at her in disbelief. “Do you really mean that?” “I’m tired of being cross-examined!” Kiria stood up to face him. “I’m tired of feeling guilty about everything I do! I’m an adult, I’m not a child, I’m

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not a criminal, and your standards are just too damn high!” “If you think that anyone else would put up with your dishonesty and blatant disregard for your own safety…” “Put up with it! You haven’t put up with it! You punish me for it, and then expect me to be perfect!” Kiria shouted at him, backing away. “I’m not perfect, and I never will be! This experiment is over!” She whirled around and ran from the kitchen, through the living room, and jerked open the front door. She didn’t realize that she was crying until she was halfway down the long drive, and then she slowed to a walk, letting the pain wash over her. Tears poured down her face as if leaking from a sieve. No sobbing, no coughing, just a deep sadness and regret over her harsh words. She reached the front gate and wiggled through the gap in the middle.

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Chapter Nine

Jogging across the highway brought a strange comfort to her misery, and she began to run, slamming her feet down onto the black asphalt while berating herself in her mind. Stupid! Deceitful! Liar! No real man will have you! You pushed him away! He was everything you always wanted and you blew it! You didn’t have to agree to his discipline, but you did! You accepted it and then threw it back in his face! Stupid girl! A car whizzed past and honked at her. Stupid car! I can run anywhere I damn well please! Ansel thinks no man would put up with me, but lots of men have! I could have had any man I wanted, and they didn’t care if I lied to them or not! They didn’t care… They wanted only to be seen with me, or to try to kiss me… None of them ever tried to teach me anything or showed any interest in my thoughts or my intelligence, or my safety… She heard another car coming up, but it slowed down to pass and pulled over in front of her. Kiria stopped, weak and panting. Ansel got out of his Jeep. He walked back toward her, took her by the arm, and guided her into the passenger seat. He buckled her in as she sat staring out the windshield. She couldn’t look at him, and she couldn’t talk to him. She swallowed back the tears, not wanting to appear weak in any way, and her breathing returned to normal. Ansel got in and pulled back onto the highway, driving towards her house.

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The silence continued all the way home, except for the quiet whine of the transmission gears. As soon as Ansel stopped in front of her home, Kiria unfastened her seat belt, got out, shut the door quietly, and walked briskly up to her front door. She never looked back. Once safely inside, she ran to her room and cried for an hour before passing out in exhaustion. Kiria didn’t remember much of the next week. When Ansel didn’t call to tell her goodnight, as he had every night for the past week, she knew that more than the experiment was over. The days passed slowly by while she sat in front of the TV. She ran hard every morning and night, pushing herself until her body gave out and screamed for her to stop. She walked home from whatever point that happened to occur, and showered under cool water. She cleaned out the entire house, dusting, vacuuming, and scrubbing until her hands were raw and cracked. Angela looked on sympathetically but didn’t interfere with her daughter’s self-imposed discipline. Kiria would talk when she was ready. ______________ The following Saturday morning, Ted Stevenson called Kiria. She instantly recognized his gravelly voice when he greeted her. “Hello, Ted,” she reluctantly answered. “I wanted to tell you that last night’s show had the highest ratings we’ve ever scored! Apparently, people like the idea of Ansel having a sidekick. I’d like to hire you for our next shooting on Monday.” Kiria said nothing as memories of Ansel flooded her mind. She’d successfully blocked most of them out for the past few days, and was unprepared for the onslaught of feelings she thought she’d buried. “Kiria?” She quickly hung up the phone, choking back sobs, and forced her thoughts away as she ran out the door and down the driveway.

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Ted called again that evening. “Kiria, please don’t hang up, we really want you in the show,” he began. “No,” said Kiria, and hung up again. The next morning, a dozen yellow roses arrived with a card from the studio. Angela watched as Kiria took them to the kitchen sink, turned on the water, and deliberately fed each one to the garbage disposal. “Mom, I’ll be out painting for a while,” she called. She scooped up her backpack and walked calmly to the front door. “All right. Call me if you’re not back after lunch.” “Sure,” said Kiria, and headed for her car. Angela shook her head in despair. Something had to give soon, and she hoped it would be for the better. She’d never been so worried about her daughter before. Kiria drove aimlessly, searching for just the right spot for the town hall’s last painting. She had a mountain scene and a not-so-bustling city scene, and this one had to be different, yet still reflect the local flavor. What else would attract visitors to live or build businesses in the area? The lake, of course. She turned right and sped off in that direction. Speeding was a new thrill for her. She’d never purposefully gone over the speed limit before she’d left Ansel, but now she’d discovered that fast driving gave her an adrenaline rush that nearly equaled Ansel’s kisses. Who needed a man, anyway? Slamming on the brakes for a turn, her tires squealed around the corner and she laughed almost maniacally while turning up the bass on her stereo. Perhaps she should buy a Porsche or some other high-performance car, once she became rich and famous. Oh, who was she kidding? She was just a local artist with a part-time income. However, she’d had numerous calls offering commissions since her newspaper photo had been published. She hadn’t accepted any yet, but she really ought to thank Randy Parsons for that.

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Kiria swerved into the beach’s parking lot and pushed down hard on the brakes. She hadn’t anticipated the fine sand coating the asphalt, though, and her car slid sideways, towards a parked Jeep. It was green. Oh God, no! Her eyes widened as the distance narrowed. She turned the car into the slide and pressed down harder on the brakes. Please, please, please, she muttered, feeling the pulsing of the anti-lock brake system. Bracing herself for the air bag to explode, she watched the car come to a halt only a foot shy of the Jeep’s side door. It was Ansel’s, no doubt about it, and Kiria put her car in park and turned it off, the resulting silence ominous. She quickly hopped out of her car and slung her backpack over one shoulder, strolling nonchalantly across the beach to the old lifeguard tower. She hoped that if anyone had seen that little fiasco, then perhaps they would think her a stunt driver. It had really been quite neatly enacted, and she giggled to herself as it replayed in her mind. Swerve, slide, skid, stop, get out of the car and walk away. She scanned the beach from the safety of her dark sunglasses, seeing only a few people wandering the shoreline. No one even glanced her way, except for one tall, muscular man striding purposefully towards her from the far left. Kiria hurried her steps, as he seemed bent on intercepting her line to the tower. Never looking directly at him, she began to jog, and reached the tower perhaps a hundred feet ahead of him. She immediately began to climb up, agile as a monkey and fully conditioned from her recent runs. The tower was dilapidated and rarely used anymore; it swayed slightly as she neared its summit. “Kiria!” She heard Ansel’s voice just as she successfully scrambled onto the top platform. She looked down to see him stop short at its base. “Oh, hello,” she called, giving him a short wave of dismissal.

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“Get down here!” His angry tone brought back intermingled feelings of guilt and love, but she quickly beat them down. He had no control over her, and no right to admonish her. “Sure. When I’m through painting.” Kiria busied herself unfolding her stool and easel. “This tower’s not going to last that long!” he called. “It’s been here for twenty years.” “If you won’t come down, I’ll come up there and get you!” “Okay,” she agreed, leaning over the edge to watch. He placed one foot on the first rung and stepped up. It broke, sending him sprawling onto his back in the sand. Cursing, he tried the next step up. The tower swayed from his heavy weight, and Kiria hung on to the rickety railing. Ansel knew when he was defeated, and stepped back down to glare up at her. Unable to resist, Kiria pulled her long hair out from its ponytail and fluffed it out behind her. “Shall I let down my hair for you to climb?” she giggled. “Rapunzel had golden hair,” he retorted, stalking away toward the parking lot. Kiria felt a stab of disappointment, which she quickly shook away while preparing her palette for a new painting. The next several hours passed quickly as she deftly recreated the scene before her. The breeze was mild, and the sun warm in the cool air. The blazing colors of the fall leaves were easy to reproduce in their bright glory, and contrasted well with the pale blue stillness of the lake. Creativity was good for her—she felt calm and relaxed and at ease for the first time in a week. It was truly a magnificent scene. Finally, Kiria proudly set her finished painting into its case and packed up her supplies. Quickly scrambling down the tower, she started out across the sand, and then stopped short. Her

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car and Ansel’s Jeep were now the only occupants of the parking lot. A hundred yards to her right, Ansel sat in a green lounge chair, reading a book. Kiria briefly considered climbing the tower again, but she’d have to come down sometime. She thought of running to her car, but he was much closer to it than she was. Adjusting her backpack over her shoulder, she once again began to walk toward the parking lot. Her peripheral vision caught Ansel shutting his book, folding up his chair, and then striding out toward his Jeep. Kiria slowed her pace, delaying the inevitable confrontation. He probably just wanted to say a proper good-bye—the way they’d parted had been so unsettling. Kiria pulled her keys out and unlocked the passenger side door of her car, placing her backpack in the seat. Ansel stood leaning against the hood of his Jeep with his arms crossed, silently watching her. Kiria went around the back of her car to the driver’s side door and unlocked it. “Kiria,” he said, and she looked up warily into his calm blue eyes. There was no anger there, and she felt herself relax. “Kiria, I waited for you because I want to apologize.” “You do?” Her hand hesitated on the door latch. “I was wrong. I waited all week for you to call me and tell me you were wrong, and I then I realized that I was the one who screwed things up.” Ansel’s arms dropped to his sides and he slowly moved around the hood of her car to stop a few feet away. Kiria tensed, poised to flee at the slightest provocation. “I really enjoyed being with you,” he continued. “But I was being selfish. I moved too fast, and I didn’t think of how it might be affecting you. I had no right to treat you like that.” Kiria stared up at his sincere expression, losing herself in the bright blue of his irises. “Well…” she didn’t know what to say.

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Ansel put his finger to his lips. “Let me talk, please, you don’t have to say a word. I’ve been miserable without you. I haven’t even been able to sleep at night. I want you, not the… the spanking thing. I want you just the way you are, and if you want to lie to me, or swear at me, then I’ll just learn to accept it. If you want to do these crazy things,” he glanced at the tower, “then I’ll just have to pray a lot. I want to keep seeing you… I want to make love to you… and I’m only going to ask for one thing.” Kiria’s heart melted as he spoke, and she eagerly awaited his request. “Please, promise me you’ll never drive recklessly again. Please, Kiria, that’s the only thing that I can’t accept.” Ansel stood unmoving, his eyes gentle and imploring. Kiria nodded and took a small step toward him, and then his arms were around her and they were hugging each other tightly. She pressed her face against his broad chest, smelling the faint lingering scent of his cologne. He pulled the ponytail out of her hair and ran his fingers through its silky length. Kiria had no idea how long they stood there together, but eventually she became aware of the glowing sunset across the water, and she lifted her head to look up at Ansel. “Let’s go home,” he said, bending to brush his lips across hers. A spark of desire confirmed her need for him, and she smiled in response. Ansel opened her car door for her, and she slid into the driver’s seat. Leaving the parking lot, Ansel waved for her to go ahead of him, and she drove carefully to the end of the lake drive. She wasn’t sure whether he’d meant her house or his, but she turned toward his ranch, her heart leading the way. He wanted her. He wanted her even with all of her faults, her lying, and her crazy stunts. She smiled widely, all the way to his house.

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Ansel treated her like a princess. Settling her onto the sofa with a glass of wine and a magazine, he disappeared into the kitchen, where she could hear pots and pans clanking softly together. She heard the water running in his bathroom for a while, and then he led her to the large, candle-lit octagonal tub, which was filled to the brim with hot, bubbly water. As soon as he left the room, Kiria stripped out of her sandy jogging suit and slipped gratefully into the water. A million sprays of water massaged her from all angles while she washed herself with his deodorant bar. When the water began to cool, she turned off the jets and toweled dry before donning the blue bathrobe she’d worn once before. Kiria stepped barefoot into the kitchen, and Ansel turned from the stove, holding out his arms to her. He picked her up and swung her around, smiling down into her delighted expression. “Sit down at the table there; dinner’s almost ready.” He let her go, and Kiria happily complied. “Don’t you want any help?” she asked. “Not tonight. Next time, you can cook while I give lessons,” he grinned. “All right.” A fresh glass of wine was placed by her hand, and Kiria slowly sipped it as she watched Ansel work. He was as much at home in the kitchen as he was in the wilderness, and she wondered at his skill. “Where did you learn to cook?” “My mother started her own business when I was a teenager. She worked late hours and I got tired of TV dinners every night. I started watching Julia Childs, my mother bought me cookbooks, and pretty soon I figured out how it’s done.” “Hmm. So you’ve always been very resourceful…” Ansel smiled and turned down the heat on the sauce he was stirring. He quickly set the table, and a few minutes later, several savory dishes appeared

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like magic. Kiria breathed in deeply of their enticing aromas as he served her a small portion of each. He filled his plate and sat down next to her, their eyes meeting over the gently rising steam. Then Ansel grabbed her hand, closed his eyes, and said, “Good food, good meat, thanks, God, let’s eat!” He abruptly let go of her hand and picked up his fork, as Kiria stared in surprise. “When you hear my father say grace, you’ll be wishing it was me,” he added. His wink finally set Kiria in motion, and she picked up her fork to tentatively spear an asparagus tip covered in a light yellow sauce. The tangy flavor enticed her to rapidly finish her portion and ask for more. Ansel grinned as he passed the serving dish. “Aren’t you going to try anything else?” “Huh-uh,” she smiled, her eyes half-closed in pleasure. “I’m going to eat only this whatever-it-is for the rest of my life.” A short time later, though, she cleaned her plate and reached for more of the veal with scalloped potatoes. Ansel grabbed her hand with both of his, slowly turning it over to inspect her abraded palm. “What happened to your hand?” he asked, suddenly pushing back his chair to get up. Kiria watched him rummage around in a drawer. “Nothing.” She felt oddly ashamed of herself. “You’ve got ten seconds to tell me what happened.” He found a tube of ointment and brought it back to the table. Kiria felt strangely compelled to comply with his idly uttered command, and she stuttered, “I… I cleaned the house…” What kind of idiot was she, striving to answer within his dictated time? “Really? Why didn’t you wear gloves?” He took her hand and rubbed the soothing balm into her skin, gently massaging every inch. Kiria enjoyed the sensation, but she didn’t know how to answer his question. “Hmm?” he looked up from his task.

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“Didn’t think of it,” she muttered. He held out his hand for her other one, and she placed it into his. “I didn’t really care,” she added. To her surprise, Ansel merely nodded his understanding. As he massaged her abused hand, she thought back to her recent cleaning campaign. She had, in fact, welcomed the pain of the blisters, as it had distracted her from the heartache of leaving Ansel. Now he worked as if to heal both her heart and her hands, and she felt an overwhelming sense of love between them, although neither of them had ever mentioned that word. Did she love him? If she did, did she love the man, or the celebrity? When he finally released her hand, she picked up her wine glass, mentally shaking herself out of the reverie. They couldn’t possibly love each other yet; they’d only just met a few weeks ago. Ansel served her more of the veal, and she smiled her thanks before eagerly attacking it. After she’d cleaned her plate, Ansel began to clear the table. She started to get up as well, but he refused to accept any help, and told her to stay put. It wasn’t long before she felt foolish sitting idly by while he scrubbed pans. Sneaking up behind him, she massaged his neck and shoulders as he worked. “That feels good,” he said, rolling his shoulders in pleasure. “So, your family is really into religion?” she asked, concentrating on the right side of his neck. Ansel chuckled. “Well, they’re not zealots, but my parents go to church, and they have strict values and morals. They don’t press their views on others, but they’ll voice an opinion without waiting to be asked.” “Kind of like you, huh?” teased Kiria, rubbing between his shoulder blades. “I guess so. I just don’t go overlong on praying. I figure that God doesn’t want a long, boring speech. Unfortunately, my father quite often gets

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carried away.” Ansel dried his hands and turned around. “Kiria, I want you to go with me, weekend after next, out to visit them. It’s about a three-hour drive, so I always stay over a night or two. Would you like to come?” His eyes reflected the personal significance of his request, making her feel somehow very special. “Yes! I’d love to meet your family, Ansel.” His arms encircled her and he held her tightly. “Good. We’ll leave Friday afternoon and come back on Sunday.” Ansel kissed her then, and her thoughts dissolved into exquisite feelings of pleasure as his hands parted her robe and he lightly brushed his fingers down the sides of her naked breasts. When his hand moved between her legs, she felt her knees grow weak, and then suddenly she was lifted to his chest as he carried her into his bedroom. He laid her down on the soft quilts, kissing her lips gently at first, but then his tongue parted her teeth to stroke her mouth as if making love. Kiria moaned and rubbed his lower back, urging him to take her. “Please, Ansel, I want you inside me,” she whispered, moving her hand to his hard cock. It was much larger than she’d imagined, and she tentatively wrapped her fingers around it, feeling its velvety texture. “Not yet,” he breathed, his lips trailing down to tease one nipple. She ran one hand through his hair as he flicked his tongue across the stiffened bud. His mouth enclosed it and he suckled it, sending shivers across her abdomen. Then his hand was between her legs, stroking and caressing until she felt a gush of wetness unlike any sensation she’d ever known. A finger slid inside her, filling her completely, and then he pulled it out just as quickly—Kiria stared up into his stormy blue eyes. “Are you a virgin?” his angry accusation loomed ominously above her.

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Kiria held onto her innocent look, her eyes wide with trepidation. “Yes,” she whispered. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me before now?” Kiria felt her heart racing, thinking that it was a good thing he’d stopped the spanking thing. “I… the subject never came up,” she offered. Ansel was beyond understanding, though. “You let me go this far, knowing that you couldn’t complete the act!” “But, Ansel, of course I can do it—I’ve just never done it before!” “I’m not into deflowering virgins,” he announced, rolling over to his back. Kiria had known this confrontation was coming, but she’d not been prepared for the overwhelming emotions now consuming her. She’d never dreamed that he’d refuse her! Why, any of her previous boyfriends would have fallen all over themselves to get this far with her! Sitting up quickly, she pulled the robe around her and launched her own attack. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” she yelled at him. “You should be glad that I’m a virgin!” Ansel stared up at her, his blue eyes registering only surprise. “You’re acting like I’ve got some disease or something!” she raved, “Well, I’m not ashamed of it! The hell with you, if you don’t want me, then I don’t want you, either!” Kiria lunged towards the edge of the bed, but he stopped her with one heavy arm and pulled her to his chest. “I’m sorry, Kiria…” he began, but she struggled wildly to get away. He flipped her over to face him, and she pummeled his chest with her fists, completely out of control. Ansel held her wrists together and waited for her to calm down. It wasn’t long before she realized that her struggles were futile; he wasn’t letting her go, and tears filled her eyes as her body relaxed against him. Ansel tried again. “I do want you… I was just surprised, that’s all. You never said you were a

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virgin, and I wasn’t expecting it. I mean, you’re beautiful, and you’re twenty-two years old, I just never imagined that no one had managed to… well, you know…” He let go of her wrists and held her to him, gently stroking her back. “I’m proud of you baby, really I am. I just wish you’d said something sooner—you let me think that we were going to make love just now, in fact, you asked me to…” Kiria felt him tense again, and she finally spoke up. “I asked you to, because I wanted you to. I don’t even know why you won’t now…” The tears welled up again, and Ansel put his hands on both sides of her face as he gazed into her eyes. “I can’t. I don’t know how. I’ve never had a virgin before, and I don’t want to hurt you.” Indignation flared in her eyes. “Hurt me? You had no problem paddling my ass raw!” She watched the quick flash of anger cross his face. “That’s a lot different,” he told her sternly. “I’d do it again right now, if I hadn’t told you I wouldn’t.” Kiria felt her stomach quiver at his words. “It’s a good thing you did!” “I don’t know if I can get you to understand this, but I’ll try. I was brought up to believe that the bottom, the buttocks, or the ass as you call it, was made to accept punishment.” His firm tone was oddly reassuring. “You can’t seriously hurt anyone by striking their butt. It’s the body’s largest muscle, and it can take a lot of abuse. There’re no bones to break, and nothing gets hurt but the skin, which heals rather quickly. I’d never even have spanked you if you hadn’t agreed to it first.” Kiria unwittingly nodded her agreement as she gazed into his troubled eyes. “Now you’ve changed your mind, and I’ve respected your wishes, but it’s got nothing to do with the fact that I’d never hurt you anywhere else but your bottom.”

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Kiria thought through a long moment of silence. “But, Ansel, you paddled my thighs, too,” she objected. “Okay, the butt and the upper thighs, then. But that’s it. I’ve heard of people flogging each other all over the body, but I don’t think I’d ever agree to do that.” “Okay, okay, I don’t want to know any more. I’m sorry I never told you I was a virgin, but I still don’t understand why you can’t… um… go ahead and fuck me…” she dropped her eyes and stared at his chest hair. “I’m not saying I never will, just that I wouldn’t do it not knowing how to best go about it.” Kiria smiled at him. “What, are you going to research it?” Ansel played along. “Yes, I will. If you want me to do it, then I want to do it right.” “How about if I do it?” “What?” Ansel looked a little unsure of himself for the first time since Kiria had known him. “You just get it hard, lie back, and I’ll do it myself,” she giggled. Ansel grinned back. “That might be entertaining, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” “Well, how long do I have to wait?” “Not long. How about tomorrow night?” “I don’t think I can wait that long,” she drawled, trailing a finger down his stomach toward his groin. He grabbed her hand and held it still. “Kiria…” his tone was cool, and she looked up at him apprehensively. “We’ll do this tomorrow night.” Still hoping to change his mind, she smiled and teased, “What if I don’t wait?” Even Ansel’s patience had an end. “If you’re not still a virgin tomorrow, then I may just forget about my promise to not spank you again!” Kiria stared into his perfectly serious blue eyes. “But, you promised,” she argued.

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“I know,” he began, his tone softening, “And I won’t. Do you want me to stop threatening you, too?” “Yes. You said you’d forget about it, but you keep bringing it up again,” she pouted. “You brought it up when I said I didn’t want to hurt you,” he reminded her. “Okay. You’re right. I won’t bring it up again.” “Now,” he shifted her onto her back and leaned over to kiss her. “I’m going to make love to you, anyway.” “What?” she tried to sit up, but he leaned over her, and she felt his hand stroking her stomach. “Just lie back and relax,” he told her, bending his head to nibble on her thigh. “But, you said you didn’t want to…” Kiria protested, as he stroked and caressed her, but her mild struggles to get up soon abated as his expert touch made her mindless with desire. Only minutes later, a shattering orgasm left her shivering in the aftermath. He moved up and held her in his arms as the tingling subsided. “Tomorrow, it’ll be even better,” he promised, and Kiria couldn’t imagine how it could. ______________ An hour later, he followed her home in his Jeep. Kiria had told him she’d be fine driving home, but he’d insisted on seeing her there, and she didn’t want to argue any more. As they walked into the house together, Angela stood up from her seat in the recliner. “Kiria, where have you been?” she demanded, and Kiria instinctively backed up against Ansel. “What?” Kiria had never seen her mother this angry before. “You left early this morning, and never called again! When are you going to get a cell phone so people can reach you?!”

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“Mom, what’s the matter? Did something bad happen?” “No, and it’s a good thing it didn’t. Why didn’t you call me and tell me you were all right?” “I… I didn’t think of it, Mom. You never worried before!” “That’s because I never had to sit back and watch you try to destroy yourself for an entire week, before! When you left this morning, you said you’d call me after lunch!” Kiria felt Ansel gently removing himself from between her and the wall behind her. He stepped toward the door. “I’m sorry, Angela. I kidnapped her around noon, and she’s been with me ever since. It’s my fault; I didn’t think to call you, either.” “Ansel White, it’s not your fault at all!” Angela turned to him, tears in her eyes. “Except that before my daughter met you, she was responsible and always let me know where she was going! Now I never know where she is, I never know if she’s all right, I never know what’s going on…” Kiria stared in amazement as her mother began to cry. She’d never seen her cry before, not even when her father had left. Ansel brushed past her and put his arms around Angela, who awkwardly accepted his comfort. “I’m sorry, Mom,” said Kiria, moving up to pat her mother’s shoulder. “I didn’t think you might be worried about me. I’ve been really selfish all week, wrapped up in my own problems.” “You always talked to me about your problems before,” cried Angela, putting an arm around Kiria’s neck. “You haven’t talked to me in a week! You’ve been driving recklessly, and running yourself to death, and I was so afraid something terrible had happened today!” “I’m sorry, Mom,” repeated Kiria. Her eyes met Ansel’s, and she saw the silent regret in his gaze. “I didn’t mean to make you worry; I just couldn’t talk

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about it yet…” Kiria gently pulled her mother into her own arms, as Ansel released her. “I’ll call you later,” said Ansel, moving toward the front door. Kiria nodded and watched him leave, shutting the door quietly behind him. She sat down with her mother on the couch, and they talked for an hour before Angela was convinced that Kiria would keep in touch from then on. Kiria told her about Ansel’s promise to never spank her again, but she didn’t disclose anything about their plans for the following night. Angela got up and moved to the recliner to light a cigarette. She took a deep drag and blew the smoke toward the fireplace. “I feel a little foolish now,” she said. “I was all worried about nothing, and then I cried in front of Ansel. He must think I’m crazy…” “Oh, no, Mom, you were right to be worried. I shouldn’t have been driving like that, and I’m lucky that nothing bad did happen. And, I’m sure Ansel doesn’t mind you crying in front of him.” “He’s a good man,” replied Angela. “But I don’t know if your new agreement is a good idea.” Angela smiled, happy to be giving advice again. “What?” Kiria responded in her typical style. “Why not?” “What’s going to stop you from swearing and lying to him?” “Well… I won’t do it because… because I love him, and I don’t want him to be hurt.” Kiria voiced her thoughts before she even knew what they were. She loved Ansel. It was a revelation, and yet she must have known it, deep down. Angela smiled again. “I hope that works for you.” “Well, I love you, and I don’t lie to you.” “That’s true.” “It’ll be easy. I’ll probably swear now and then, but he said he could accept that.”

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Angela nodded and turned the TV on to the news. Kiria went to bed soon afterward, and when Ansel called, they talked only a few minutes. “Kiria, I’m sorry you had such a hard week,” Ansel told her. “No, Ansel, it’s my fault. I could have talked to my mother instead of beating up on myself. I made the wrong choices, but now I know better.” “Your house looks fabulous, by the way.” “Oh! You noticed it was clean?” “Yes, the place looks entirely different!” “Thank you. I guess I did do a few things right.” “Well, baby, I’m beat. I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon, okay?” “Uh-huh. Goodnight.” “Goodnight.” Kiria hung up the phone and immediately wished she’d told him that she loved him. It was a scary thing to do, though, not knowing if he loved her, too. What if she confessed it, and he thought her silly or foolish? They’d only known each other a few weeks! But Kiria knew it to be true, and she felt as if they’d known each other for years. She thought about their new arrangement, and wondered if he could be happy with it. Then she realized that although he’d promised not to spank her, he was still undeniably the one in charge. Even though he’d cooked for her and pampered her, every decision had been his, and she’d had few choices in anything. He was still able to make her feel like a guilty child when he became angry. He’d held her helpless while he’d brought her to orgasm, and she hadn’t had a choice in that, either. Kiria smiled to herself. The end of the spankings hadn’t changed their relationship at all. She fell asleep, dreaming of him making love to her.

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Chapter Ten

Kiria awoke the next morning to a wonderful feeling of well-being. She stretched and searched her mind for the cause of such happiness, and then she remembered that she and Ansel were back together. Not only were they back together, but she never had to fear another of his spankings, and tonight she’d be having sex for the first time! Kiria put towels into the washer and made up her bed. She scrubbed her sink and counter. She turned on the TV and watched it for a little while, but she was too excited to sit still. Finally, she threw on a jacket and headed out the front door to run. Her body had grown used to the exercise, and apparently wouldn’t be satisfied without it. Kiria thought about satisfaction, and hoped that Ansel would find it tonight. She knew she probably wasn’t experienced enough to please him, but maybe he’d teach her how. She ran faster and faster as she strove to wear herself out, just like every day for the past week. Finally she gave o ut, and walked slowly back home, opening the front door just in time to pick up the ringing telephone. “Hi, baby,” said Ansel. “Hi!” “You doing okay today?” “I’m great! How about you?” “I’m fine. Um… you haven’t changed your mind about tonight, have you?” “No…” She felt suddenly wary. “Why would I change my mind?”

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“Well, it’s a serious decision. I just wanted to make sure that you really want to go through with it.” “Of course, I do. Are you having second thoughts?” Kiria voiced her suspicion. “Yes, I am,” he confessed, and her heart raced with anxiety. “I’m wondering if you agreed just because you were happy that we’re not mad at each other anymore. I’m wondering if you’ve really thought this through. It’s a permanent change in your life, you know.” “Ansel,” she began, now angry but trying to keep her tone respectful. “If I were making this decision carelessly, then I certainly wouldn’t still be a virgin at twenty-two years old!” She waited through several long moments of silence. “I suppose you have a point, there,” he admitted. “I guess I just want to know why you’ve decided to do it now, after you’ve waited so long. I mean, weren’t you saving yourself for marriage?” Kiria gave a strangled laugh as her mind searched for words to convey her thoughts. “No, I wasn’t saving myself for marriage. Is that what you’re worried about?” “No! I’m just … well… I didn’t want to ruin anything for you…” “You mean, you don’t want me to be thinking you’re going to marry me?” “No, honey, I didn’t say that,” he started to explain, but Kiria cut him off. “The only reason I’m still a virgin is because I’ve never wanted to do it with anyone I’ve ever dated before!” “Okay, okay,” he tried again, “I’m just trying to make sure that this is the right decision for you, and—” Kiria had had enough though, and her last vestiges of control snapped free as she interrupted him once again. “Look, Ansel, I’m perfectly capable of making a good decision on my own. Let’s just make this plain

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and simple… I want you to fuck me, because I want to have sex with you! And I want you to be happy, because I love you; you dumb son-of-a-bitch!” She slammed down the receiver and then stared at it in horror as her words reverberated in her mind. Fuck? Love? Son-of-a-bitch? She’d actually said those things to Ansel? Her thoughts raced, imagining all sorts of repercussions. The phone rang, startling her, but she ignored it and went into her room to try to think. If Ansel really was afraid she wanted marriage, then she’d just scared him off by declaring that she loved him. He’d tell her off, and then never call her again. If he hadn’t thought of marriage, then she’d probably just pissed him off so much that he’d never want to see her again. What was painfully clear, though, was that he didn’t trust her to be able to make a rational decision. It must have been the reckless driving that had convinced him. Or maybe it was because he knew that she’d blatantly disregarded her own mother’s feelings for an entire week? Maybe it was her frequent forays into danger, just to paint a picture? Oh, God, she wasn’t capable of making a rational decision. That’s why she’d fallen in love with him; somewhere deep inside, she knew she was selfish and self-destructive, and she knew that she’d needed his guidance. Kiria stared miserably down at the bed where he’d spanked her for the first time. As much as she’d hated it, she knew she’d needed it. And still did. She’d been damn lucky to meet someone who was willing to take her in hand, someone who wanted to care for her, someone who wasn’t afraid to be in charge… He’d acted so passive on the phone just now, as if he were trying too hard to please her. It hadn’t seemed at all like him. She’d needed firm reassurance from him, not insecure questioning. Now she’d ruined it all, and

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he’d never call her again. The tears began to fall then, dripping silently down her face until she threw herself onto the bed and sobbed into her pillow. Many tears later, Kiria heard her mother come in the front door and close it. Then the bedroom door squeaked, and a cool hand was placed on her shoulder. Kiria began to cry into her pillow again. “Mom, I’ve just ruined everything! Ansel called me, and I swore at him, and I accused him of thinking I wanted to marry him, and I told him I loved him, and now he’ll never talk to me again!” “Yes, he will,” Ansel’s voice startled her, and she scrambled up to stare into his calm, blue eyes. “Ansel,” she breathed, breaking out in a silly grin. He sat down next to her on the bed. She hastily wiped her eyes on her sleeve, wanting desperately to hide her reddened face, but was unable to look away from him. He smiled and held out his arms, enfolding her against his broad chest. “We need to talk about this,” he said, his voice soft and soothing. Kiria hugged him tightly and waited. “I love you, too.” He hugged her tighter. “And I’m sorry I didn’t trust your decision. You were right to get angry. But I can’t accept this role you’ve planned for me. I can’t just stand by when you do, uh… do foolish things. I can’t just ignore your swearing and yelling at me. I think you need a spanking, whether you know it, or not. But I won’t spank you, because I promised you I wouldn’t. So, how are we going to resolve our differences? I’m not going to swear and yell back at you.” Kiria pushed him back from her. “I… I release your promise… I want you to spank me. I need you to.” She turned and lay across his lap, pulling down her jogging pants to her knees. “I’m not going to question your decision this time,” she heard him say, just before the first smack fell.

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He started out slowly and built up to a hard, fast spanking that had her crying from both pain and joy. She never even tried to get away from his hard hand. She lay passive, accepting it all as her due. Then it was over, and he stretched out beside her on the bed, pulling her close. “Thank you,” she cried, “I’m so sorry for everything I did!” “I know,” he assured her. “But, I’m going to spank you every night until our wedding day, and probably some more after that.” “What?” Kiria sniffed and then listened closely; afraid she’d misunderstood him. “I want you to marry me. I want you by my side every day and in my bed every night, for the rest of our lives.” “Really?” “Really. I love you, Kiria. I love you just the way you are, and I’m not asking you to change anything, only to accept your punishment when you screw up.” “Oh, but I will change, Ansel, you’ll see! I won’t do dangerous things anymore, and I won’t swear anymore, and I’ll be more considerate, and…” “No, you won’t. Maybe you’ll improve with time, but I’ve got lots of time, and lots of love, and I’ll never get tired of spanking your butt whenever you need it.” Kiria hugged him hard and buried her face in his neck. “I love you, Ansel.” “I love you, too,” he said, stroking her back gently. “When do you want to get married?” “Right now,” she immediately replied. He chuckled softly. “My parents would kill me if I got married without them and a church ceremony. The only drawback to waiting, is that we’re definitely not having sex until our wedding night.” “No, Ansel…” Kiria pulled her pants up and sat up to look down at him. “I really wasn’t saving

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myself for marriage! We can go ahead and make love, in the meantime.” He shook his head. “I really like the idea of saving it for our wedding night. We’re going to wait.” “But, Ansel,” she began, and then closed her mouth as he sat up to face her. “One more word about it, and I’ll spank you again.” Kiria felt her stomach fluttering as she pictured herself over his knees again, bottom bared to his view. Swallowing back her disappointment, she mumbled, “All right, then,” and leaned into his warm embrace. “Now, do you want a big wedding, or something simple?” Kiria had always wanted a large church wedding, with at least seven bridesmaids to attend her, but now it didn’t seem to matter at all. “Ansel, my mother and I won’t be able to afford very much. Let’s make it really small and simple.” He smiled. “Your mother will want to see your wedding, and my family will want to be at mine. I can afford however big a wedding you want.” She sat up straight and glared at him. “Ansel White, you know that the bride’s parents always pay for the wedding. There’s no way that you can pay for it.” “You want to pay for it? All right then, sell your car, sell this house, and then I’ll buy you a new car and your mother an apartment, as wedding gifts.” “My mother would never sell this house!” “Kiria, she told me last week, that as soon as you had your own place, or were married, then she was getting an apartment. She’s only held onto the house because of you.” Kiria’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?” “Honey, you know your mother’s tried extra hard to give you security, because you didn’t have a father around.”

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“I just thought… I thought she liked this house. She never said anything to me about it.” Kiria felt suddenly left out, with her mother confiding in Ansel and not her. She suddenly realized how her mother must have felt when she’d ignored her all week. “I think I need to have a long talk with her.” Ansel nodded. “We’ll see what she says. But I’d like to have a big wedding, because you’re going to be the most beautiful bride this town’s ever seen.” He hugged her closely as she cried again, this time in sheer happiness. ______________ They spent the next three days at Ansel’s ranch. He taught her how to shoot a rifle. Kiria carefully listened to everything he told her about gun safety, and he gave her a written test, which she aced, even while thinking how silly it was. Every evening after dinner, he settled her over his knees for a long session of bare-bottomed spanking that ended with his pleasuring her to orgasm. Kiria wasn’t sure if he intended it all as a punishment or a reward. She’d begun to look forward all day to the event. On Sunday night, they had dinner at her house. Angela had tried out a new French recipe that they’d all greatly enjoyed. They’d discussed the wedding plans, and Angela had quickly let Kiria know that she was going to host the biggest wedding in the history of the small town. “Kiria, I’ve got over eighty thousand dollars of equity in this house. We’ve been here for twenty years, and the properties around us have sold for quite a lot. I’d always planned to sell the house for your college or your wedding, so that’s what we’re going to do.” “But, Mom, you can’t possibly spend that much on a wedding!” protested Kiria, but her mother simply grinned at her.

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“I won’t. I’ll spend about thirty on the wedding, ten on a cruise, and put the rest up for my retirement.” “A cruise?” “I’ve always wanted to go on one. Once you’re married, I’ll have the time and the money.” Kiria smiled happily. Things were working out so well! She got up to go to her bathroom, leaving Ansel and her mother to talk. ______________ Ansel watched Kiria’s retreating backside before turning to her mother. “Angela, did Kiria tell you that I promised to tan her butt every night until we’re married? She agreed to it, but I don’t want you to be upset if you hear any spanking noises from her room.” Angela smirked and pulled out her cigarette pack. “No, but I’m not surprised. By the way, we’ve hardly spoken since you two got back together.” “Really? She told me she was going to have a long talk with you.” Angela shook her head and smiled. “It doesn’t matter. I’m happy that she’s happy now. You go on and ‘tan her butt.’ I’ll clean up the kitchen.” Ansel smiled back. “Leave it for her to do. I have a feeling she’s going to deserve it.” Angela shrugged and lit her cigarette. “You seem to know what’s best for her,” she replied. Ansel gazed across at her, his face unreadable. Then he said, “You did a wonderful job raising her. I hope you don’t think that I’m overstepping my place, here.” Angela looked up at his sincere expression. “No, Ansel. I think I gave her what she needed, when she needed it. Now she needs something more and you’ve stepped up to the plate. I appreciate it, and you have my blessings. I know you love her.” Ansel smiled and put his hand over hers. “Thank you. I couldn’t ask for a nicer mother-in-law.” They

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grinned at each other, and Ansel got up again to go down the hall. ______________ “It’s time,” he said. Kiria stared up at Ansel, framed in her bedroom doorway. She put down her hairbrush and flipped her hair behind her back. She knew it was ‘spanking time,’ but for goodness’ sakes, how could he be initiating it here, with her mother home? “Here?” she asked. “Yes. Right now.” “But, Ansel, my mom’s here!” she whispered loudly, glaring at him. “And?” “If you think I’m going to let you spank me where she can hear it, you’re crazy!” “Who said anything about letting me?” he calmly replied, moving slowly toward her. Kiria backed away without thinking. “I made you a promise, and I’m going to keep it. There’s no need to feel embarrassed, anyway. I told your mom you were getting a spanking now.” Kiria’s eyes widened in shock. “What!” Ansel took his time as she literally backed herself into a corner. “Maybe, if you’d had that long talk with her, like you’d said you would, then this wouldn’t be such a surprise to you.” A twinge of guilt ran through her. “I haven’t had time yet! What business is it of yours, anyway?” She pressed herself against the wall as he loomed closer, leaning one hand idly on the wall beside her. “Everything about you is my business. And vice versa.” “If you spank me here,” she yelled, “I’ll… I’ll… I’ll bite you!” She darted under his arm and ran for the bedroom door. Ansel caught her around the waist, in the doorway and pulled her toward the bed. She fought him wildly, totally out of control.

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“No!” she squealed, kicking him in the shin. “Stop it!” He took hold of both her wrists. Angela appeared in the doorway just then, wondering if some violent act was occurring. Kiria leaned over and bit Ansel’s arm, hard. But he patiently pulled the kicking, screaming girl inexorably toward the bed. Kiria got one arm free, and began to hit him hard on his chest, and then she kicked him again, but not once did Ansel try to retaliate. He got her to the bed, sat down, and dragged her over his lap. Angela had seen enough. “Need help?” she asked, embarrassed at her daughter’s behavior, but amused at his predicament. Kiria heard her voice and yelled an obscenity at Ansel. Ansel looked up and gave Angela a grim smile. “If you’d just hand me that hairbrush, please,” he looked toward the dresser. Angela smiled and brought it to him. Ansel locked Kiria into place, one leg over hers, one hand on her back, holding her down. He raised her skirt and yanked her panties down to her thighs. “Ansel White, you let me go! Don’t you dare do this!” SMACK! The hairbrush hit her left cheek, and she screamed as a burning pain suffused her mind. She continued to struggle as Ansel paddled her methodically from the tops of her cheeks to her lower thighs. Angela left to watch TV, turning it up loud over Kiria’s yelling. It didn’t drown it out entirely, though, and she was well aware of when the paddling finally ended, some time later. Not long after that, she heard the couple emerge from Kiria’s room, and then the sound of running water came from the kitchen. When Ansel strolled in and sat down on the sofa, Angela turned the volume down. A look passed between them, but no words were needed.

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Kiria wiped her eyes on a paper towel after she’d loaded the last dish into the dishwasher. Now, what was she supposed to do? Join Ansel in the living room? The thought of facing her mother after all that had happened was too embarrassing to contemplate. She gingerly sat down at the kitchen table and idly picked up the daily paper. “Kiria? Are you done in there yet?” called Ansel, and Kiria just couldn’t answer in the affirmative. “No,” she loudly replied, and got up to start washing off the canisters. It wasn’t long before Ansel came to investigate. A week ago, there would have been many things to clean, but since then, Kiria had spent hours scrubbing the floor and counters, and polishing the wood cabinets. Ansel watched her sprinkle scrubbing powder into the already-sparkling sink. “Where are your gloves?” he asked, and Kiria looked up at him in confusion. “Gloves?” she dumbly repeated. “To protect your hands,” he patiently explained, but Kiria saw the disapproval in his eyes. “Um… I don’t have any,” she muttered, and began to scrub vigorously. Ansel calmly walked over, picked up the sprayer, and rinsed the powder from her hands and the sink. Over the sound of the running water, he told her, “Tomorrow night we’ll take care of this problem. You’re not supposed to hurt yourself in any manner, and just look at how red your hands are.” Kiria stared down at her hands, comprehension finally reaching her tired consciousness. “Oh.” “When we go out to film in the morning, I’ll bring you a pair of leather gloves to work in.” He dried her hands on a towel, and looked at his watch. “Bedtime,” he announced. He took her by the hand as he turned and walked toward the living room. Kiria silently followed, letting him lead her past her mother, who thankfully didn’t turn her head as they went by.

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Once inside her room, he shut the door and sat down at her little desk. “Get ready for bed, and then I’ll tuck you in,” he said. Kiria hurriedly pulled a nightgown out of her closet and went into the bathroom. As she brushed her teeth, she thought over his words. They’d discussed the filming on his ranch, but she’d never really agreed to do it. He was just assuming that she would do it, just like he assumed that she would go to bed now at his direction. Kiria stripped off her clothes and put them in the hamper, catching a glimpse of her still-red buttocks in the mirror. They didn’t look nearly as bad as she imagined they would. That hairbrush had stung like a million bees, but really hadn’t damaged her at all. Staring at her red, cracked hands, she finally understood what Ansel had meant when he’d said that the buttocks could take a lot of punishment. She slipped the nightgown on, brushed her hair, and hurried back to her bed. Ansel still sat at her desk, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. His attitude warmed the minute he saw her in the thin, silky material, and he stood up to hug her closely. Gently rubbing her lower back, and then her bottom, he whispered, “That’s my good girl.” Kiria got under the covers and waited while he set her alarm for four o’clock. “I’ll be back at five,” he told her, bending down to kiss her and arrange the covers about her neck. “Make sure you wear jeans and sneakers, and a warm jacket.” Then he was gone, and Kiria was sound asleep within minutes, lost in a world of love and security.

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Chapter Eleven

Kiria was ready bright and early the next morning, dressed as directed, and she laughed when she opened the front door for Ansel. He wore a baseball cap, sunglasses, a warm turtleneck, and a beige vest with many small pockets that were filled with tackle items. A lure was pinned to the cap, and it jiggled as he chewed on a piece of gum. He grinned back at her, turned, and headed for his Jeep. “You look like a redneck,” she teased him. “My many fans won’t complain,” he laughed. “Oh, I don’t know… they haven’t seen this getup yet.” They talked amiably all the way to Ansel’s property. It was as if last night’s drama had never happened. If it hadn’t been for her aching buttocks, she might have thought it all had been just a dream. Ted Stevenson seemed happy to see Kiria when they arrived at the filming site. If he’d been insulted by her hanging up the phone on him, he didn’t show it. She accepted his warm greeting and returned it with her own. Then Mary Lawrence had her sign more papers, including a per-episode payment contract. Ansel walked over just before Kiria was about to sign it. He picked it up, read through it, and made some changes with an ink pen, which Mary agreed to, and everyone initialed. Kiria wanted to know what all the legal jargon meant, but she trusted Ansel to know what was best for her, and she didn’t want to hold up the filming. She signed it with a flourish.

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Then it was time to begin, and Kiria followed Ansel as they hiked across the ranch to the river. Ansel gave her a rifle to carry, and Kiria was surprised but pleased that he trusted her with it. The agenda today was trout fishing. Ansel carried a large wicker tackle basket over one shoulder, his rifle on the other, and two long fishing poles in one hand. As they walked, Kevin stayed just ahead of them with the camera running. Ansel wore a wireless mike, and kept up a running commentary about the different types of trout that could usually be found in the river. Kiria listened closely, amazed at how much he knew without cue cards. “What we’re really after today is a rainbow trout. They’re usually found in the open, faster waters, where they tend to feed at the surface more often than other trout. It’s not a native fish—it was introduced here over fifty years ago. It’s the most easily cultured and adaptive of all trout, and they’ve flourished here. They like to feed under a choppy surface, which is what we’re heading for now.” With that, he stopped at the river’s edge and Bill brought him a duffel bag. Handing Kiria his rifle, he pulled out rubber waders and pulled them on. Then he motioned for two other crewmembers to take the rifles from Kiria and keep an eye out for the bobcats. Kiria hadn’t been introduced to these men, but she’d seen them on Ansel’s show before. Then Ansel pulled out another pair of waders and handed them to Kiria. Okay, she thought, what am I getting into now? Nevertheless, she wordlessly accepted them and tried to figure out how to put them on. “A lot of people never try fly-fishing, because it requires a lot of practice and skill. But the rewards are great, as you’ll soon see. It doesn’t take too long to learn a simple cast, though, so I thought we’d use my friend, Kiria, here, as a guinea pig.” Ansel turned his bright smile on Kiria, and she

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smiled back, waving at the camera. Inside, however, she was mildly irritated at his assumption that she’d learn to fly fish on his whim. Guinea pig, indeed. He hadn’t even bothered to tell her what was going to happen today. “Guinea pig?” mumbled Kiria, off camera. “Okay then, let’s get you into those waders,” he announced, reaching her two strides. He straightened out the material for her to step into the boots, then pulled them up quickly and stretched the suspenders up over her shoulders. “Now, I’m going to set up our rods, and I’ll explain the different parts,” he continued his narration, and Kiria watched closely. “Will there be a test?” she asked, eyes wide and innocent. “Yes,” he clipped, “a big one.” Ansel began to pull out various implements. “Fly tackle consists of seven components—rod, reel, backing, fly line, leader, tippet material, and flies,” he said, pointing to the few parts that were already on the rod. “Here, tell me what parts are on your rod,” he continued, handing one of the poles to Kiria. “Um… I’ve never had a rod before.” Leaving just a short pause for thought, she continued, “This is the rod,” she pointed, “the reel, and the backing.” “That’s right. See how easy this is?” he turned back to the camera, and continued to talk while tying on the leader, tippet and flies. On Kiria’s pole, he tied a small piece of plastic instead of a fly. “Now, I’m going to show Kiria how to make a simple cast. There’re a few basic principles of good flycasting. First, you have to have a good grip on the rod.” “I’m sure I can handle that much,” she told him. “Oh, but it has to be the right grip,” he replied. “Too loose, and the rod will fly out of your hand. Too tight, and your line won’t loop.” “Okay,” said Kiria, “so we don’t want flying rods or unlooping lines?”

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“Nope.” Ansel showed her how to hold it firmly with her right hand, keeping her thumb on top of the grip. “Keep the butt of the rod under, like this, and in line with your wrist and forearm.” “Keep the butt what?” Kiria gave him her innocent look again. “It’s the end of the rod,” he explained, “keep it here, and the rod will stay in one plane while you cast. It you don’t, then the tip will wander and spoil the cast.” “Well, we certainly don’t want to spoil the cast,” agreed Kiria, “we’re probably already getting paid too much.” Ansel rolled his eyes upward, and Ted laughed loudly over a few snickers from the crew. “Okay, now,” Ansel tried again. “Next you’re going to stand like this,” he demonstrated with his feet slightly apart, “and pull about twenty feet of line off the reel, laying it out on the ground, here.” “What are we fishing for, snakes?” teased Kiria. “You have to practice on the ground before you get into the water,” he patiently replied. “Now, make sure that the line on the ground is straight, not in curves. You want to start out with a side-arm cast.” Ansel took the rod and showed her how to do it. The plastic tab on the end of the line looped out gracefully and landed about forty yards in front of him. “It’s kind of like throwing a Frisbee. Keep your wrist firm and then stop the rod abruptly.” Instead of reeling in the line, Ansel then looped it back behind him in a back cast. “Just practice back and forth, like this. Strength and distance don’t really matter here; just concentrate on forming the loop, which comes with good timing. Now, go on out there with Bill, and practice it for a while.” Kiria nodded, forgetting to make a silly retort, and eagerly took the rod as he handed it to her. “Wait a minute,” said Ansel, reaching into another of his pockets. “Put these on, first.” He handed her a pair of thin leather gloves, which she

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pulled on. Then she and Bill went out to the meadow. She tried to do everything the way Ansel had shown her, but her line went spiraling into the air, with no graceful loops apparent. Bill filmed her first few tries, and then went back to cover Ansel, who was now wading into the shallow side of the river. He sent his fly, an artificial yellow hammer, arcing across the river to land delicately on top of the rushing water near a large rock. About twenty seconds later, an unsuspecting trout smacked the fly, and Ansel smoothly set the hook by giving the line a gentle backward pull. He let the fish run about thirty feet before reeling it gently back and guiding it into his net. Ansel held up his fish to Kevin, who zoomed in to show a good-sized rainbow trout, at about fourteen inches. Placing the fish into his basket, Ansel went back to casting. About thirty minutes later, he had caught three more trout, one a brookie, which he released because of its low population in the native waters. Kiria worked continuously on her casting, finally getting a small loop to float through the air and land about twenty feet away. By the time Ansel returned to check her progress, however, her arm was aching and her thighs were sweating inside the rubber waders. “You’re stroking it too hard,” he told her, walking over to help. Kevin followed, setting up his shot. Kiria stopped mid-cast and the line dropped to the ground in a series of “s” loops. She handed the rod to Ansel to demonstrate. He reeled it in and then pulled some of the line out straight along the ground. “Stroke it gently, like this,” he said, curling the line out gracefully about thirty feet in front of them. “Give the line time to straighten out.”

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“You must have spent years practicing stroking,” she observed, her face expressionless as she watched his ears turn pink. Quickly recovering, he replied, “Yes, that’s what’s made me so good at it.” It was Kiria’s turn to blush as his blue eyes caught hers in a seductive gaze. He handed the rod back, and then stepped to her left as she tried another cast. The line flew out nearly straight to the ground. “You’re breaking your wrist,” he observed. “Try it again.” “Well, I’ve never stroked before,” she pouted, but Ansel ignored her comment. Kiria back casted, trying to keep her wrist firm. The line looped out and landed about twenty-five feet away. “Very good!” Ansel’s praise made her want to hug him, but she resisted the impulse. “Now if you can do that forwards… She cast the line a few more times, until he was happy with her stroke. “Ready to go wading?” he asked, already turning toward the river. “Is the water cold?” she asked, hurriedly reeling in her line. “Yes, but you’ll stay pretty warm in those waders.” “No, I want to be colder. These things are really hot; I don’t want to use them,” she objected. Ansel turned and gave her a warning glare, effectively stopping any further argument. She had to remind herself that they were on his turf now. Ansel held her hand as they waded out between the smaller rocks. Keeping one’s balance was tricky through the rushing water and slippery riverbed. They stopped about thirty feet out, and Ansel tied a fly onto the end of her leader. “Now, I want you to cast it over there near those rocks, where the water’s going really fast. Aim the tip of the rod a few feet above where you want the fly to land.”

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Kiria hadn’t seen him fly-fishing earlier, and she made several false starts before getting the line to cast. “I can’t do it,” she complained, “I’m going to look like an idiot.” “Not any more than you made me look, with your smart-ass comments,” he grinned down at her, knowing that Kevin couldn’t catch their conversation over the roar of the water. “You said a bad word,” she replied unconcernedly, trying another cast. Her line looped out and the fly struck the water about ten feet to the right of the rocks he’d pointed out. “Shit,” she blurted out unintentionally. “Don’t say that in front of the cameras,” he calmly replied, and Kiria quickly looked back at Kevin’s camera on the bank. “They can’t hear us,” he laughed, “And if they did, they’d just edit it out. Now, keep your arm in a straight line and try to aim again.” Kiria almost fell on the next cast, and would have but for Ansel’s hand behind her, gripping her suspenders. After about ten more tries, she finally landed the fly near the rocks, and Ansel told her to reel it in very slowly. A few minutes later, he had her casting again. “I’m getting tired, Ansel.” Her arm was hurting acutely now, and her legs were cold from the chilly rush of water against the waders. “I know. It’s not easy trying to stay upright in the river, and you’re not used to casting yet. Just try it a few more times, okay?” “Uh-huh,” she muttered, and tried again. This time, Ansel saw a glint of silver when her fly landed, and he quickly took hold of her line to hook the fish. “You got one!” he exclaimed, and Kiria started to jerk back on the line. “No, let it run a little,” he said, staying her hand. “Now pull it in slowly, and keep the slack out of the line or it’ll break.” Kiria tried to follow his instructions, alternately reeling or letting the fish run as he dictated. After what

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seemed like an hour’s work, the fish was finally in view. Ansel deftly netted it and held it up for the camera. Kiria felt extremely happy until she saw the fish. It was a rainbow trout about ten inches long. “All that work for that little bitty fish?” she exclaimed, amazed at its tenacity. Ansel laughed. “It’s a good sized fish,” he told her. “You did a great job.” She shook her head in disgust, and they waded carefully back to the bank as the crew began to pick up their various belongings. Ted got up from his folding chair and congratulated Kiria, who accepted the praise with dwindling enthusiasm. She awkwardly pulled herself out of the waders and handed them to Bill, who put them back into the duffle bag. The hike back seemed to take forever, as Kiria rubbed her aching arm and trudged along behind Ansel. They were way behind the rest of the crew, except for Ted Stevenson, who was only a few hundred feet ahead. Then she noticed that none of them had any rifles, and that Ansel now seemed unconcerned about any possible danger. Her curiosity aroused, she jogged up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Yes?” he turned and stopped to see her worried expression. “What about the bobcat?” “The bobcat?” “Yes, no one seems to be on the lookout right now.” Her words spilled out as she looked anxiously from left to right, behind them. “And you don’t even have your rifle!” She watched a curious expression form as he gazed down at her wordlessly. “What?” she demanded, suddenly realizing that there was some secret about. “I’m sorry, baby, I forgot to tell you,” he explained. “The bobcat’s gone. We’re just carrying the guns today, for the show.”

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Kiria stared at him in shock. “What do you mean, he’s gone? He was here last week when you were teaching me how to shoot the rifle, wasn’t he?” “Yes. But he started raiding this farmer’s chicken house, so we had to capture him and ship him back to the national park.” “Well, why the hell didn’t you tell me that before now?” Anger once more took over Kiria’s common sense. “You just let me think that all this time we’ve been in danger?” Hands on her hips, she glared up at Ansel. “I’m sorry,” he began, but she cut him off. “So, this was all pretend? Even having Bill go with me to cast the damn fishing line?” “Yeah. I thought you knew it was all an act. Sorry. I just forgot to tell you, that’s all. What’s the big deal?” “The big deal is, I’ve been scared half the day, looking for that fucking bobcat to show up! That’s what the big deal is!” They both turned just then to see Ted looking back at them. “Keep your voice down,” he warned her, “and stop swearing.” “Why? Just because Ted can hear me?” Kiria said, even louder. “Maybe he can and maybe he can’t, but you’re yelling at me and not even giving me a chance to explain what…” “I don’t care if he can hear me, damnit! I don’t give a damn what he might think!” she yelled, and there was no longer any doubt whether Ted could hear her or not. Kiria watched Ansel’s eyes narrow, and then his brow drew down just before he took her by the hand and pulled her to a nearby fallen log, at the edge of the forest.

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“Well, then, you won’t care what he thinks of this, either, will you?” he exclaimed, sitting down and pushing her over his knees. “No!” she yelled, suddenly eye-to-eye with a clump of dried grass. His hand reached beneath her, quickly unsnapping her jeans. He yanked them down to just below her bottom cheeks. “Embarrass me, and I’ll embarrass you,” he said, just before his hand connected with her pantyclad buttocks. Thank God she’d worn real underwear and not a thong, she thought inanely. Ansel spanked her soundly for a full minute as she struggled uselessly to get away. Then he stood her up facing him, pulled her jeans back up, and sat her down on the log. Kiria jumped up to get away from the smarting pain, away from Ted’s probably gawking eyes, and away from the incredible embarrassment flooding through her, but Ansel stopped her with one arm about her waist. “Stay still,” he told her, hugging her close. “You’ve had this coming all day, and I would have waited if you hadn’t been so incredibly rude to me just now. Are you ready to listen to me yet?” Kiria stood unmoving, not that she could have moved if she’d tried. She felt like crying, but the tears wouldn’t come. Her bottom stung, but it hadn’t been a particularly severe spanking, just enough to let her know she couldn’t treat him with disrespect. She turned to see Ted still walking with his back to them, as if nothing had happened. Ansel rubbed her back and held her firmly to his chest for another long moment. “Look, Kiria, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you that we shipped the bobcat out. I’m really sorry, and I wouldn’t have done it on purpose.” Kiria buried her face in his vest as shame coursed through her. Of course, he hadn’t done it on purpose. “Now, I know you were angry, but that’s no excuse to treat me like a dog,” he continued the

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lecture. “And, don’t think that I won’t hesitate to correct you, even if there’s an audience,” he warned her. “I believe you,” she bitterly replied. “You spanked me in front of my mother, too, and I thought that was as bad as it would get…” “Kiria, I’d never have done that if you hadn’t already told her that I spanked you.” “Well, I certainly never told Ted!” “No, but you said you didn’t care what he thought, and you made sure that he could hear you. Why were you rude to him, when you were mad at me?” “I… I don’t know, Ansel, I just lost it. I’m sorry,” she felt tears rising up, then spilling down her cheeks. Ansel fished out a handkerchief and handed it to her. “Will you apologize to him?” She nodded and wiped her eyes hastily. “Let’s hurry and catch up, then.” He kept his arm around her shoulders as they walked, and Kiria managed to get control of her emotions before they reached the crew and camper. She waited while Ansel talked to Kevin for a while, and then Ted approached her, a smile on his face. “Ted,” she began, “I’m sorry for what I said… um, yelled back there.” Her face flushed with heat. His smile never wavered. “That’s all right, Kiria. No hard feelings.” “Well…” she didn’t know what else to say. “Thanks,” she muttered, staring at her sneakers. “Are you okay?” Kiria looked up at his now serious expression, and gave him a small smile. “Yes, I’m fine,” she assured him. “I just wanted you to know I was sorry.” “No problem. I’ve had much worse things said to me, or about me.” “But you didn’t deserve it. You’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

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“Kiria,” he seemed a bit uncomfortable now, “Look, when I heard what you yelled, I was angry for a moment, but what happened afterwards pretty much took care of it, at least for me, anyway.” He grinned as she blushed even harder. Ansel walked up and put his arm around Kiria. “C’mon, brat,” he teased, pulling her close. “Time to go home.” Kiria kicked his boot. “I’m not a brat,” she pouted. Stealing a glance up at Ted, she saw raw admiration in his expression as he told Ansel when the next shoot was scheduled. “We’ll be there,” Ansel assured him, and Ted waved goodbye before getting into the quad cab to leave. “I assume that you apologized,” said Ansel, as they walked hand in hand back through the meadows. “Of course I did,” she told him, “but apparently there wasn’t much point in it.” “Why not?” “He said that what happened after I yelled at you, pretty much took care of it for him.” Ansel chuckled and squeezed her hand. “You know, Ansel, you can’t just spank me anywhere you please; not everyone would approve, and someone might even call the police.” “I suppose so.” “Will you be more careful from now on? I don’t want to see you go to jail, plus it could ruin your career.” Ansel stopped and turned to face her. “Kiria, I do have some common sense. I wouldn’t just spank you in front of anyone; only if it’s a safe situation.” “Oh. Sorry, I just had visions of you hauling me over your knee in a restaurant or something…” she blushed and kicked the grass with her foot. “Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t do that.” He gave her a quick kiss and took her hand to walk

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again. “Unless, of course, you really deserved it,” he added. She laughed and punched him in the arm. “Speaking of spankings, though, you’ve got a big one coming tonight.” Kiria’s stomach rolled over. “What? You just spanked me!” “Oh, no, that wasn’t a spanking. It was just a little reminder that you shouldn’t yell or swear at me.” Kiria wanted to argue, but she knew he was right. It had hardly hurt at all. “Tonight you need to pay for abusing your hands, and for all the swearing you’ve been doing.” They reached the back door, and Ansel held it open for her to enter the kitchen. She sat down wordlessly at the table while he brought out the liniment and removed her leather gloves.

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Chapter Twelve

“Aren’t you going to argue about it?” he asked, surprised. He rubbed her still-red hands with ointment. Kiria shook her head no. “You have no objections?” Again, no. Ansel looked closely into her golden eyes, and saw the slight glistening of a tear. It welled up and slowly rolled out, over her cheekbone and down to her jaw line. He put his finger out and touched it. “My arm really aches,” she said woodenly. It was then that he noticed her legs shivering beneath the table, and that her jeans were damp from ankle to mid-thigh. “Kiria, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Ansel picked her up like a baby and carried her to his bed. He covered her with a quilt and went into the bathroom to fill up the huge tub. Sitting down next to her on the bed, he carefully inspected her arm, making her move it this way and that until he was satisfied that it was only sore muscles. Then with a deliberate detachment, he pulled off her sneakers, her socks, and all the rest of her clothing while she lay passively with her eyes half shut. He picked her up and put her in the hot water of the octagonal tub, watching her lean back and finally relax. “Don’t get your hands wet,” he warned, and picked up the bar of soap himself. He washed her thoroughly from neck to toes, trying to keep his mind off what he’d rather be doing. Her skin was firm but silky beneath his rough hands. With

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passive obedience, she did exactly what he told her throughout the procedure. He put her up on her knees to wash her privates, and he carefully inspected her backside, finding no bruises or other evidence that she’d been spanked with her own hairbrush just the night before. There was only a slight pink tinge from this afternoon. Rinsing her with the removable showerhead, he stood her up and toweled her dry. Then he put her to bed to rest while he took a quick, cool shower. Kiria woke up when Ansel sat down on the edge of the bed a little while later. She smiled up at him and sat up to stretch, stopping in pain when she put her right arm up. “Ooh,” she groaned, “I’ve never had such sore muscles before!” “Do you have any drug allergies?” he asked, and she shook her head no. “Take these, then,” he told her, holding out two tablets and a glass of water. While she washed them down, he left and returned with a cup of hot chicken soup. She sat up crosslegged as he turned on the plasma TV across the room, and then he sat down on the other side of the bed. “For God’s sake, Kiria, cover yourself up,” he exclaimed, watching her bare breasts move every time she took a bite of soup. Kiria froze with the spoon halfway to her lips. “Why?” she blinked at him innocently. “Look, it was bad enough washing your beautiful, naked body without being able to, you know…” Kiria gave him a slow, sultry smile. “No one said you couldn’t,” she purred. Ansel glowered at her. “You know I want to wait for our wedding night! Now, cover yourself up!” Kiria calmly put the bowl down on the headboard. She grasped the edge of the covers, but instead of pulling them up, she flipped them off and stood up at the bedside. Turning to face him, she

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slowly ran her hands down her neck to her breasts, cupping them and then rubbing their nipples together. She threw her head back and moaned like she’d seen in the movies, her eyes half-shut in desire, and her lips slightly parted. She ran the tip of her tongue along her teeth and pinched her nipples. With a growl, Ansel leapt across the bed, grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her down to him. Giggling, Kiria put her face up to be kissed, but instead he flipped her over his thighs. “If you feel good enough for that, then you’re certainly recovered enough for this!” His open hand connected with her bare cheek and she squealed in pain and surprise. “Damnit, Kiria, I will have a virgin on my wedding night!” “What’s the matter with you?” she yelled, “Any other man would be thrilled if I did that for them!” “I’m not any other man, and you know I’m not going to take your virginity yet!” He was thoroughly incensed, and spanked her several more times. “Do not tempt me again until we’re married!” With a few more stinging swats, he let her go and threw the covers back over her naked bottom. Kiria lay still, pouting. “We’ll see if you get a naked dance ever again!” she threatened, completely put out at his reaction. Ansel leaned down and gazed at her intently. “Do you have any idea how much I want you?” he said softly. “I dream of it every night. I burn with it when I wake up every morning. When I’m with you, it’s always on my mind. You’re gorgeous, your body is perfect, and all I want to do is bury myself inside you every time I see you. But we will wait, and you’ve got to accept that.” “All right,” she agreed, now mollified. “I’ll be good from now on.” “It’s my fault, I guess,” he admitted. “I’ve been teasing you, bringing you to orgasm, but never letting you have it all.”

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Kiria felt the heat rush to her loins with the memory of his expert ministrations. It was his fault. Before he’d given her her first orgasm, she’d had almost complete control over her reactions, but now she was helpless to her own needs. “So, I think it’s time for you to pay up.” Instead of stopping her desire, his words seemed to build it stronger. The look in his eyes, and the determination of his jaw line sent shivers across her stomach while the fire between her legs flared hotter. Wordlessly, she watched him get up and bring her the blue bathrobe. “Put this on, and then come out to the living room.” He walked out then, leaving her to slowly rise and don the robe. A delicious feeling followed her to the other room, where she found him sitting in a chair he’d pulled to the middle of the Persian carpet. “Come here,” he said, when she paused several feet away. Kiria slowly approached him, eyes cast to the floor and hands clasping the robe together in front. She glanced up once and melted at the sight of his stern, handsome face. “Why are you being punished?” “I… I said a lot of swear words… and I hurt my hands by not wearing gloves…” “And what do you think you deserve for that?” His tone was low and husky, and Kiria felt her wetness as she stood at his side, smelling his light aftershave scent, and feeling the heat that emanated from him. “A… a s-spanking,” she finally got out, flushing in embarrassment. “I agree,” he murmured, “You’ve been very naughty, and you have to learn to do better, don’t you?” “Yes…” she bit her lip as he held out his hand to her. He helped her get into position, her bottom high over his massive thigh.

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“Are you comfortable?” he asked, stroking her sensitive cheeks gently. “Right now I am,” she said truthfully. “I meant your arm; does it hurt too much in this position?” “No, sir,” she whispered, and then he pulled up the robe and began to spank her, lightly, up and down both cheeks and across her upper thighs. Her legs parted of their own accord, and she wiggled shamelessly against his thigh. The smacks became harder and faster, but Kiria felt no real pain, only a burning desire for more. “This doesn’t seem to be much of a deterrent,” he remarked, as she bucked up against his hand and moaned. “Oh, God, Ansel, please don’t stop,” she groaned, and smiling, Ansel put his hand beneath her and gave her release. He spanked her soundly throughout her writhing, moaning climax, until she lay limp and exhausted across his lap. “Do you think you’ll swear again soon?” he asked, stroking her bottom. “Oh, no, sir,” she replied. “I won’t, because you don’t like it.” “What about hurting yourself?” “No, I won’t do that, either.” “That’s my good girl,” he pulled her up and held her, running his fingers through her disheveled hair. “Because next time, you’ll be getting a paddling.” Kiria hugged him. “Yes, sir.” ______________ They left early Friday afternoon, to go to his parents’ house. Kiria’s behavior had been especially good for several days now, and Ansel rewarded her each evening with an erotic spanking. She went to bed happy every night, and could only wonder at what he did to ease his yearnings. She knew of course, that most men masturbated, but she hadn’t had the nerve to ask him if he did. She didn’t even

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have the nerve to help him out like he did to her; she’d seen penises in print, but had only actually touched one once, the first night they’d lain in his bed together. Guilt began to weigh on her mind over their one-sided sexual activities. Thinking about it yet again during the long drive, she became so obsessed with his attaining release, that she stared morosely out her window and didn’t even hear Ansel talking to her. “Kiria!” his attempts to converse finally reached her ears. “Yes?” she gave him a startled glance. “What are you thinking about? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said,” he complained. She searched her mind for a plausible lie, but then decided to play it his way and blurted out the truth. “I’m depressed because you give me pleasure all the time and I don’t know how to give it back.” She watched Ansel’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Oh.” Kiria watched him curiously then as his eyes narrowed on the road and the corner of his lip began to twitch. “Do you find that amusing?” she asked. “No, of course not,” he replied. Seconds later, he broke out into a wide grin. “I knew it!” she exclaimed, sitting straight up in her seat. “I’m sorry, baby! I’m just pleased that you were thinking of me; I’m not laughing at you.” “Well, then, what are you going to do about it?” Kiria looked at him expectantly. “Do about it?” He tried to concen trate on the traffic ahead. “There’s nothing I need to do about it. I’m happy with the way things are.” “But, I’m not.” “You’re not happy that I’m happy?” “You’re not satisfied. You make me come every night, but you get nothing in return. It’s making me feel like a greedy little pig.”

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Ansel did laugh, then. “Baby, that’s the last thing I’d call you.” “You’re not gay, are you?” He instantly sobered and remained silent as the next exit ramp came up. He took it, braking hard on the curve, and pulled into a side parking space at a gas station. Turning to fully face her, he said, “I think it’s obvious that I’m not gay. It’s also obvious that you’re getting real close to getting spanked.” Kiria’s eyes widened. “Why?” “To brighten your mood.” Kiria thought about that for a moment. “Why don’t you just teach me how to please you, and then I’ll be in a good mood.” “It’s not an option right now.” Kiria looked around them; no cars were near. “No,” he told her firmly. She grinned up at him, and he kissed her before turning back around to drive. “I’ll teach you the next time we’re alone,” he conceded, and pulled the Jeep back onto the road. Kiria’s brightened mood lasted exactly five minutes. “How much longer until we get there?” she asked Ansel, realizing what a childhood cliché it was. “About two more hours.” “I’m bored,” she whined. “Turn on the radio.” “That’s boring, too. I need a drink,” she told him. “We just stopped, and you didn’t get one, then!” “I didn’t know I’d want one. Maybe I should get a pack of cigarettes, too, and start smoking.” “You already smoke.” “Only around my mom, and then only once or twice a week.” “That’s more than enough. You’re not going to smoke around me.” “Why not?” “It’s a nasty habit, and as everyone knows, it can kill you.”

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“Oh, pshaw. My mom’s smoked for nearly twenty years. It’s never hurt her.” “She’s just lucky.” “Fine, then. I’ll bite my nails.” She put her hand to her mouth and giggled as Ansel lightly slapped it away. “No.” “Oh, come on, Ansel, just stop again so I can get a drink and maybe a puzzle book or something to read.” “All right.” Kiria sat quietly and waited for the next exit. Ansel turned off, pulled into another gas station, and waited while Kiria went in. After ten minutes had passed, he got out of the Jeep and marched into the store to find Kiria still browsing the magazine stand. Ansel took the soda from her hand, plucked out a magazine, and went to the counter to pay for them. Kiria went back to the Jeep, muttering to herself until he got in. “Thanks,” she said as he handed her the items. She looked at the magazine. ‘Car Times’ was emblazoned across the front in bold, red letters. Oh great, she thought, and put it down on her lap. Five minutes later, she told Ansel, “I have to go potty.” “What!” She nearly giggled at his glare of exasperation. “Why didn’t you go when we just stopped?” “Well, I was going to, but I forgot to, after you came in the store and took control of everything.” “How can you forget you need to go to the bathroom?” “I don’t know. You surprised me. I was distracted, and I just came back to the Jeep to wait for you.” Muttering under his breath, Ansel again exited the freeway at the next opportunity. He pulled up to another gas station. Kiria hopped out and disappeared inside, only to return a minute later. “It’s too dirty,” she told him, sliding back into the Jeep. Without a glance in her direction, Ansel

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drove to a nearby fast-food restaurant, and Kiria happily went in. When she returned, he asked her if there was anything else she needed before they got back on the freeway, and she shook her head no. “You’re sure? No food, nothing else to read?” Kiria thought he was being sarcastic, and shook her head no again. Five minutes later, however, she was complaining to him about buying the car magazine. “Why would I possibly want to read about cars?” “I didn’t look at the title; I just wanted to get going again.” “Well, how about if we play a word game or something. You know, like the alphabet game?” “I don’t feel like playing right now, I just want to get us safely to my parents’ house.” “You’re no fun,” she pouted, crossed her arms, and slumped down in her seat. She fell asleep only minutes later.

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Chapter Thirteen

Two hours later, Ansel turned into the long drive to his parent’s house, a twenty-four room mansion with huge white pillars across the front porch. He hoped Kiria wouldn’t think she had to act sophisticated again—his parents weren’t at all snobbish. His hopes were soon dashed as Kiria woke up and stared in awe at the handsome façade. “Good God, Ansel, you didn’t tell me they were millionaires!” she exclaimed, anxiety written all over her face. “I didn’t think you’d come if I did,” he replied with a smile. “Come on, now, let’s go in.” “Oh, I can’t possibly go in like this! My hair’s tangled, I have no makeup on, and I’m wearing sweat pants! Let’s go somewhere and change!” Ansel was already getting out, though, and he walked briskly to her door and opened it. “Nope. We’re going in. Come on.” “Not yet!” She snatched at the handle and slammed the door shut. He tried to open it back up, and she locked it. She got her hairbrush out of her purse as he walked around to the driver’s side, but then she locked that door, too. Ansel fished in his pocket for his keys. Kiria held the lock button down with one hand while brushing her hair with the other. “Open this door, Kiria!” he called through the window. She shook her head and put her brush away. Pulling out lipstick, she hastily applied color to her lips, and drew two streaks across both

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cheekbones. She then turned the rear-view mirror toward her as Ansel stalked back to her side of the car. It was as he pounded on the Plexiglas, loudly promising her a spanking, that she noticed an older couple standing on the front porch behind him, their expressions carefully blank. Pretending she didn’t see them, Kiria quickly blended the color onto her cheekbones as Ansel opened the back of the Jeep and began to crawl in over the seat backs. “Kiria, get that hairbrush back out. I’m going to blister your bottom but good!” he growled, as she quickly applied a dash of mascara. One look at his angry expression sent her scrambling out of the vehicle and up the marble steps toward the impeccably dressed couple. The man wore a casual suit, and the woman a black a-line dress that fell modestly to her knees. “Hello! You must be Ansel’s parents!” Kiria cheerily exclaimed, holding her hand out to the man. The woman glanced quickly down at Kiria’s sweat pants and then up again, a smile forming on her lips. “Well, no, ma’am, I’m Charlton, the butler, and this is Mrs. Adams, the housekeeper,” drawled the man, and Kiria’s smile froze as she pumped his hand enthusiastically. “Oh, sorry. It’s nice to meet you,” she said, blushing from her ears to her toes. “Please excuse the way I look just now—I spilled coffee on my pants, and had to change rather quickly.” “Dad,” said Ansel directly behind her, startling her into nearly stepping on the handsome woman’s foot. “Are you playing butler again?” The man broke out into a deep chuckle as Kiria stared at him, speechless. He was Ansel’s father? “It’s wonderful to meet you, dear,” said the woman next to Kiria, giving her a quick hug. “We’ve heard so much about you.” “Oh, well then, I’m terribly sorry,” blurted out Kiria, certain that none of it had been good. With

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graceful agility, Ansel took her by the elbow and guided her into the house, as Kiria stammered out another apology. His parents followed them in, but Ansel continued to propel Kiria forward with one hand, carrying their overnight bags in his other. “I’ll show Kiria to her room, Mom. The yellow one?” Ansel’s mother nodded her head. “She wanted to freshen up a bit,” he added, and firmly led Kiria up a massive stairway, which divided into two sets of stairs at a landing halfway up. Kiria allowed him to pull her to the top of the stairs, where she jerked herself free and stood back to glare at him. “If you spank me for what just happened, then I’ll never speak to you again!” she told Ansel hotly. To her surprise, he broke out laughing. “I can’t believe you thought my parents were the hired help,” he chuckled. “Well, how could I have known? You told me they were serious and religious, not warm and funny.” “And I’ve never seen anyone go as far as you did, just to swipe on a little make-up!” “Well, I’ve never seen anyone go as far as you did to stop me!” “We must have looked like two overgrown toddlers out there.” Kiria smiled. “You almost couldn’t fit through the back of the Jeep—I was hoping you’d get stuck in there!” “Come on, then. Let’s get settled in.” Ansel took her hand and led her down a wide hallway, past beautifully framed oil portraits and antique vases, stopping at last to open one of the many doors set into the wainscoted walls. He gently propelled her into a massive bedroom with a king-sized canopied bed, the drapes, spread and canopy all done in a pale yellow material sprinkled with tiny multicolored flowers.

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“Oh, it’s beautiful!” exclaimed Kiria. “Is this a guest room? Oh, and it even has its own bathroom!” Ansel shut the door, and she turned to see him sit on the edge of the bed. As he caught her gaze, he motioned her over to sit by him. “Said the spider to the fly,” she laughed. “Uhuh.” “I can spank you now, or I can spank you later.” “Whatever for?” “Lying to my parents about spilling coffee on yourself, that’s what for.” Kiria remembered her quickly-fabricated white lie. “Oh. Well, it’s all your fault for not waking me up in time to get ready to meet them.” Ansel was still smiling, but he didn’t reply. Kiria wasn’t sure what that meant. After a few moments, he simply stood up, came over to her, took her hand, and pulled her towards the bed. “No,” she protested, “please?” But she didn’t struggle as he sat down, positioned her over his lap, and pulled her pants down to her knees. The spanking was hard but brief, enough to make her regret the lie, but not painful enough to make her cry. He stood her up and hugged her to him. “No lying,” he said. When she didn’t answer, he gave her one more hard smack. Over the sting, she felt a much stronger sensation—a sharp wave of passion somewhere deep inside. “Yes, sir,” she replied, smiling and hugging him harder. For God’s sake, she thought, she was starting to enjoy this way too much. “I’m sorry I lied.” “I accept your apology.” He kissed her firmly on the lips. “I love you.” “I love you, too.” “Now, you can change clothes, or whatever you were going to do. But please, don’t get all dressed up and covered with make-up. You’re beautiful just

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the way you are. And no one dresses fancy for dinner here. Okay?” “Okay.” Ansel left the room, then, telling her that his room was right across the hall. She got up and unpacked her things in the bathroom, arranging her cosmetics and toiletries across the beautiful marble counter. Did every bedroom in this house have its own bathroom? Just how big was this place, anyway? Were there a hundred rooms? Had anyone in the house heard her getting spanked just now? She stripped off her clothes and caught a glimpse of her buttocks in the mirror. They were still slightly pink. Rubbing them ruefully, she stepped into the shower, where the hot spray stung against them. Washing her genitalia, her body jumped in response as her fingers rubbed over her slightly swollen clitoris. She hastily rinsed the area and soaped her chest, but her nipples twinged and puckered from that attention as well. What the hell was wrong with her? She’d never turned herself on in her life. Ansel wasn’t in the room, so what was making her feel so wanton? The spray hit her bottom again when she turned, and a strong pang of arousal shot through her. Good Lord, she thought, it was the spanking that had done it. All those nights that Ansel had spanked her and then brought her to climax, must have embedded this response in her mind. Just like Pavlov’s dog. Kiria put her fingers to her clitoris again, blushing as her body jerked of its own accord. Could she? Should she? No one would know. The temptation was too strong to resist, and her hand was soon stroking softly, imitating Ansel’s familiar movements. It wasn’t long before she nearly cried out as strong waves of ecstasy pulsed throughout her body, leaving her weak and trembling against the shower wall. As she washed herself again, she wondered if she should feel ashamed of herself now. She didn’t, despite the

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whispered warnings she’d shared with her childhood girlfriends years ago. She’d always washed her privates hurriedly, never lingering to explore. But this had felt wonderful and natural, and she couldn’t imagine why she’d never tried it before. Stepping out of the shower and briskly toweling dry, she tried to ignore the pleasurable sensations of the rough towel against her swollen nipples. She hurriedly put on a pair of black silk bikini underwear and a knee-length black dress with flared sleeves and a drawstring bodice, the latest fashion. Silk black stockings and heels completed the attire, and she carefully but quickly applied her makeup, accenting her eyes with liner and mascara. It took her fifteen minutes to blow-dry her hair into a long, shiny mass, which fell to the middle of her back, and then she curled the ends with her curling iron. Finally, she stepped back and gazed into the mirror, satisfied at last with her appearance. What should she do now? Kiria cleaned up the mess in the bathroom and put her clothes away into an empty antique armoire beside the bed. The room was beautiful, and except for the bathroom, could have come right out of the nineteenth century. She wondered if the rest of the house was decorated similarly, and opened her door to investigate. Ansel’s door was closed. She knocked softly on it. Hearing no answer, she opened it a crack and saw him sprawled on his back across a king-sized bed, wearing nothing but a towel, and apparently sound asleep. Giggling to herself, Kiria closed the door quietly behind her, and sneaked up to tickle him under one arm. Instantly, she found herself pinned beneath him, his bulging biceps on either side of her face as he blinked down at her in surprise. A slow grin spread across his handsome visage, and he leaned down to kiss her.

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“Naughty girl,” he murmured against her lips. Kiria breathed deeply of his minty scent and smiled impishly. “Oh, I’ve been very naughty…” she confessed, feeling a tremor of arousal as he raised one eyebrow in mock severity. “Really. What have you done now?” “I… I kind of…” she blushed; just realizing what she’d almost told him. “Tell me,” he commanded, the twinkling in his eyes dimming just a little. “Well… it’s too embarrassing….” He smiled. “Confess, or I’ll wipe all that makeup off with this towel.” Kiria’s eyes widened in alarm. “Okay, okay… I… I just had my first experience with… um…” she broke eye contact and stared up at a skylight in the vaulted ceiling. Ansel reached down to pull up on a corner of his towel. “Playing with myself,” she said quickly, hiding her face in his neck. Ansel’s grin was as broad as his face. “My little protégé is striking out on her own, eh?” Kiria giggled against his shoulder. “That was corny.” “Yeah, but I’m proud of you! Why did you say you’d been naughty?” “You don’t think it’s naughty to do that to yourself?” Kiria felt strangely disappointed, and turned her head to gaze into his eyes. “Absolutely not. Unless…” He sat up a little and appeared to be deep in thought. “Unless what?” “Unless you did it in the shower. That’s very naughty.” “Oh!” Her heart leaping in excitement, Kiria tried to look ashamed. “You didn’t do it in the shower, did you?” Ansel frowned down at her, his brows furrowed in mock disapproval.

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“I’m afraid so…” She gave him a worried look while trying hard not to smile. With a sigh of disappointment, Ansel got up to sit on the edge of the bed. “You know the penalty for naughtiness,” he told her, patting his thigh. “Come over here and stand in front of me.” Kiria crawled to the side of the bed, her hair swinging gently as she moved. She stood as directed, trembling as he ran his hands lightly up her thighs, feeling the tops of her stockings and then stroking her buttocks through the satin panties. “Turn around,” he commanded. Kiria obeyed, feeling him lift her dress above her waist. His light touch sent shivers down her back as he stroked her inner thighs and then pulled her panties down to her knees. “Get over my lap,” he said, but she turned and took a step back, wanting to draw out the delicious feelings running through her. “But, Ansel,” she pleaded, staring at the carpet as the panties slipped down to her ankles. “I’m too big to get spanked!” “You’ve been naughty, and that’s what naughty girls get,” he told her, crossing his arms against hi s massive chest. Kiria glanced up at him through her lashes. He sounded so serious, but she saw the twinkle in his eyes. Putting her hands behind her back, she shifted from one foot to the other in imaginary mortification. “But you’ll see my bare bottom!” “That’s right. And I’m going to turn it as red as a beet if you don’t put yourself over my knee.” Kiria hesitantly moved toward him then, pausing at his side to give him one last imploring look. “Wait,” he said. She froze. He untied the drawstring, and slipped one breast free from her bra. Stroking it reverently, he then

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teased its peak with the flick of one finger, until she thought she’d come just from that alone. His hand slipped between her thighs, moving up to gently caress her. Kiria’s body jerked in response as she bent over more, pressing her breast to his lips. When he lightly nipped her nipple with his teeth, she came hard, swaying on her feet and nearly falling over. He pulled her over his lap, and she gratefully propped her chin in her hands, not wanting to mar his pillowcase with her make-up. Kiria closed her eyes as he began spanking her with slow, gentle swats that barely registered. She moaned and wiggled her bottom suggestively. The strength and pace of each blow grew progressively, until she was squirming against his thigh. A jolt of pleasure shot through her as he lightly touched her privates again. “Stay still,” he warned, spreading her legs apart while still spanking her. Kiria tried not to move as his fingers worked their magic, stroking and teasing her lower lips with an expert touch. Her entire backside was tingling now; he hadn’t missed an inch of skin with the continuous slaps that were now almost painful. In only a few minutes, another explosive orgasm shook her from head to toe, lasting incredibly long as she squirmed against his magical hand. With one last, very hard slap to her right cheek, Ansel fell back on the bed and pulled her close. “Ohhh… thank you, Ansel,” she moaned, still dazed from the experience. “You’re welcome,” he muttered. She leaned up on one elbow to look down at his muscular form. The towel had slid down to his hips, and a huge lump bulged below it. Tentatively, Kiria put her hand on it, feeling its shape beneath the towel. “I want to make you feel like that,” she whispered.

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Chapter Fourteen

“Easier said than done,” he smiled. “Sometimes it takes me a while to get there.” Undaunted, Kiria pulled down on the towel slowly, exposing his erection. She had seen pictures of men’s erections in a magazine, but the real thing was much more impressive. She’d only seen Ansel’s when it was smaller, and she’d felt it once when it was big. Stroking it gently now with one finger, she smiled when it jerked in response. For the next ten minutes, she experimented on him, rubbing it one way or another, until finally he put his hand down and showed her what he needed. She sat up and tried to imitate his movements. It took a long time and more instruction before he finally tensed, every muscle in his body contracting as his eyes closed in pleasure. Kiria watched, fascinated, as his seed spilled out across his hard, flat stomach. “Thank you,” smiled Ansel, bunching up the towel and rolling to his side. “You’re welcome,” she happily replied. “Did it feel good?” “Yes.” “How good?” “Very good.” Kiria grinned and gave him a quick kiss. “I’m going to do that to you every day from now on,” she proclaimed. Ansel gave her a dubious smile but said nothing. “I’m going to go freshen up, now.” “Me, too. Don’t take long. It’s almost dinnertime, now.”

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“Do you eat at a certain time here?” “Six o’clock, on the dot,” he quoted, as if from a childhood memory. He grinned at her. “My parents keep to a rather tight schedule. They think it’s good for the soul.” Kiria thought about that as she washed herself in her bathroom. Schedules? She and her mother had never had a set time for anything, except getting up for school or work. In their free time, things just happened when they happened, and no one cared what time it was. She suddenly remembered Ansel telling her about his father’s long blessings at the table, and apprehension tickled her neck. What had she gotten herself into? Kiria heard a knock on her door. She quickly smoothed down her dress and brushed her hair before opening the bedroom door to a smiling Ansel, clad in jeans and a casual Abercrombie shirt. “Ready?” She nodded and he led her back down the long hallway to the top of the stairs. Her pulse raced with anxiety as they entered a large, sunny room off the marble foyer. His parents sat conversing with a younger couple. Ansel’s father stood up and held out his hand to her. “I’m sorry we didn’t properly introduce ourselves earlier,” he apologized. “I’m Andrew White, and this is my wife, Selina.” Kiria smiled and shook his hand as Selina rose to do the same. “Andrew… Selina… Ansel…” Kiria said softly as she shook Selina’s hand. “You’ve got a bright one there, Ansel,” laughed Andrew, patting Ansel on the back. “We named him after ourselves, but also after the great scenic photographer, Ansel Adams.” “Pleased to meet you,” intoned Kiria, glancing askance at the other couple in the room. “This is my sister, Miriam,” Ansel told her. Miriam held out her hand, and Kiria went over to shake it.

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“And, her husband, Dennis.” Everyone smiled around at each other for a moment, and then a quiet chiming could be heard down the hall. “Dinnertime!” said Selina, smiling brightly, and they all filed out of the sitting room as cued. Ansel took Kiria’s hand again, and held on fast as they followed the others to a large dining room with a long, mahogany table set for six. There were enough chairs for twelve, and Kiria was mildly surprised that the settings were all at one end of the table. Somehow, she’d pictured Ansel’s parents each at one end of a long table just like this one, formally nodding to each other across the vast expanse. A crystal chandelier sparkled above lit candles, and a holiday atmosphere prevailed as Ansel pulled out a chair to seat Kiria to his left. His mother was on her left, next to his father at the head of the table, and Miriam and Dennis were across from her. A plump lady with graying hair and an immaculate, white apron brought in a huge platter of roast beef and set it down in the middle of the group. “Mmmm,” said Andrew. “Looks wonderful! Thank you, Martha.” Martha preened at the praise, and disappeared for a moment, only to return with two large bowls, one full of mashed potatoes, and another with baby carrots swimming in a yellow sauce. Kiria breathed deeply, enjoying the pleasant aromas. Again Martha performed her magic trick, setting down a huge basket of freshly baked rolls, and a dish of sliced butter. Martha was thanked enthusiastically by the entire family, and then she disappeared again. Everyone then bowed their heads and put their hands together, and Kiria idly wondered if the food would cool while Andrew gave his famous blessing. She was prepared to wait as long as necessary, but the wonderful aromas had her practically salivating.

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“Heavenly Father, we thank you for this food, and for all the blessings you’ve given us this day. We welcome Kiria tonight, and hope she enjoys her visit with us. Amen.” Kiria heard the clinking of silverware and looked up, blinking in surprise. That was it? Just two little sentences? Ansel chuckled quietly beside her, and she surmised that he’d been teasing her about his father’s long prayers. Sending him a quick glare, she took a sip of ice water as the dishes were passed. Ansel’s parents were soon questioning Kiria on everything under the sun, including her childhood upbringing. Kiria ate daintily but heartily, answering between mouthfuls, and being careful to display perfect table manners. Dennis and Miriam barely said a word, eating quietly and smiling now and then. Soon both the meal and the inquisition were over, and Kiria gratefully folded her napkin over her plate when Ansel excused them from the table. “Let’s go have a drink,” he suggested, pushing back his chair. Kiria thanked his parents for the wonderful dinner, and Ansel helped her up. She expected him to take her back to the same sitting room they’d left before dinner, but he headed down another hallway, which led to an enormous den. Stopping short at the threshold, Kiria stared in awe at a huge buffalo head jutting out above a massive fireplace. It stared back, eerily life-like. “That’s Bill,” said Ansel with a chuckle. “He looks so real.” “He’s not, I can assure you.” Taking a deep breath, Kiria skirted around Bill and followed Ansel to a bar that ran the entire length of the room. Ansel went behind the counter and began to make two drinks, while Kiria gingerly sat on one of a dozen padded bar stools. Looking around, she saw that the walls were covered with antique knick-knacks, like a lot of popular restaurants. Two leather couches and a redwood

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coffee table shared the hearth with Bill, while a billiard table occupied the other end of the room. “This is really nice,” she told Ansel, accepting a vodka and seven with lime. “It’s a little eccentric, I know, but my dad likes to party now and then, especially during a football game.” Ansel pushed a button, and a panel opened on the opposite wall, revealing a wide-screen television. Kiria smiled and sipped her drink. “Thank you, this is good. Ansel, why did you tell me your father gave long blessings?” “He does.” “But, he didn’t tonight!” “You’re new; he didn’t want to scare you away. Wait until tomorrow night.” “Oh.” She didn’t know whether to be happy that Ansel hadn’t been pulling her leg, or disappointed that she’d soon have to sit through the long blessings. She wasn’t even sure if they would be boring or not. Maybe they’d be witty and entertaining. “If he’s such a religious man, why does he party? Does he drink much?” “He only has a couple of beers at one time. He believes like I do, that alcohol in moderation is a good thing, and helps you relax.” “I see.” Miriam and Dennis strolled into the den just then and sat down at the bar, Miriam next to Kiria. Leaning over the counter, Ansel drawled, “What’ll it be?” “Texas tea for me,” smiled Miriam, but Ansel shook his head. “Too much liquor in that,” he chided her. One carefully plucked eyebrow shot up in surprise. “Since when do you monitor what I drink?” “Since when have I not?” “Oh, fine, then, I’ll make it myself,” grumbled Miriam, and hopped down from her seat to sashay around the bar. Ansel made no move to stop her, much to Kiria’s surprise, and Miriam quickly poured

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shots from four different bottles of liquor into a tall glass. “What would you like?” Ansel turned to Dennis. “The beer on tap’s fine.” The man’s tone was soft and melodic. “Do you sing?” Kiria asked Dennis. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. How did you know?” “Just hoping. Your voice is wonderful.” Dennis sat up straighter in his seat. “Thank you.” He smiled, and Kiria smiled back. Miriam was back in her seat in a flash, effectively blocking the interaction. She gave Kiria a broad smile before rudely observing, “So, you were raised a free spirit, you’re used to doing whatever you want to do, and you routinely risk your life to get the perfect view for your paintings? I just want to know what you have in common with Ansel.” “Kiria, you don’t have to answer that,” Ansel quickly interjected, glaring at his sister. “Oh, I don’t mind,” smiled Kiria. “We both love the outdoors, and hiking, and fishing, and shooting. I love to eat, and he loves to cook. We also like to play games together.” “What kind of games?” asked Miriam, raising one eyebrow suggestively. “Chess, cards, and trivia, mostly.” “But doesn’t he try to restrict your freedom? I can’t imagine Ansel putting up with any of the things you say you do.” Ansel remained silent this time, but his eyes were stormy with displeasure. “Well,” Kiria tried to explain it nicely, although she was getting annoyed at the girl. “He tries to talk me out of some things, and I try not to do them if he objects.” “My, Ansel, you’ve changed a lot since I lived at home.” Miriam gave her brother a small smile. “If I’d done even one of the things that Kiria does, then you’d have blistered my bottom, but good!” She

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broke out into a knowing grin when Kiria immediately blushed a deep pink. “Miri, if you don’t stop being so nosy, I’ll blister your bottom again,” drawled Ansel. “I think not,” retorted his sister. “I’m a married woman, now, and much too old for that nonsense.” “No woman’s too old for a spanking. Especially when they’re acting like a five-year-old.” “Dennis, isn’t that the silliest thing you’ve ever heard?” Miri’s tone rose a few notes. “Why, you wouldn’t let Ansel spank me, now would you?” Dennis looked up from his study of the foam head on his beer. “Probably not,” he assented. “Probably?” coaxed Miriam. Dennis gazed solemnly at his wife. “It would depend upon the circumstances.” “And under what circumstance would you possibly allow Ansel to do such a ridiculous thing?” “It would depend on how determined he was. He does outweigh me by at least fifty pounds, you know.” Dennis gave a deep chuckle as Miriam hit him in the arm. Ansel smiled, and Kiria laughed lightly, still blushing in embarrassment at the topic. Her discomfort grew as Miriam leaned toward her and asked, “Does Ansel spank you?” “Um…” was all Kiria got out before Ansel cut in. “Miriam Anne, that’s enough.” His tone was stern. “Our private affairs are none of your business. Kiria, let’s go outside; it’s still light enough to see Eagle’s Peak.” With that mysterious declaration, he took Kiria’s elbow and steered her toward the door, barely giving her time to swallow the last of her drink. She heard Miriam laughing behind them, all the way down the hall. Ansel led her back to the front entryway, asked her to wait for him, and bounded up the stairs. He soon returned with their jackets, helped her into hers, and they went out the front door.

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Kiria stumbled through the tall grass of a meadow, trying to keep up with Ansel’s long strides, but her short dress and heels slowed her down considerably. The wind whipped her hair across her face with a soothing coolness, helping to calm her roiling emotions. What was wrong with Miriam? Why was the woman treating her with such disdain? Why hadn’t Ansel warned her about his sister? “Ansel,” she called, “wait up!” With a look of impatience, Ansel stopped still, staring ahead at some unknown point of reference. Kiria immediately assumed that he was angry with her. “Look,” she told him, panting, as she finally made it to his side. “If you want to hike by yourself, I can just go back. There’s no reason for you to have to slow down for me.” “I don’t mind.” He frowned down at her. “I’m sorry, I was just angry with my sister, and walk ing fast helps me to calm down.” “Then go on ahead, I’ll see you when you get back.” “No. I want to show you something.” He took her hand and set out at a slower pace. “Is your sister always like this, or is it just me?” “No, honey, it’s not you. She doesn’t even know you yet. She’s been married for nearly two years now, and Dennis lets her run over him all the time. She’s been spoiled and pampered for too long, and she’s badly in need of being taking down a peg or two.” “Well, I was only being nice because she’s your sister, but if you want me to retaliate, I’d be more than happy to…” “Kiria, if you ever act like her, I’ll take a switch to your butt.” Kiria stopped short, jerking her hand from his. Hands on her hips, she retorted, “It was your suggestion!”

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Ever so slowly, he turned and walked back to her. Kiria held her ground, although the look in his blue eyes made her want to run like hell. Golden eyes blazed into blue until he was so close that her vision blurred. Pulling her gently into a hug, he then smacked her bottom hard. “I suggested taking her down a peg, but I meant that she needed a spanking, not a cat fight.” “But, I want to get even! I can be as mean as she can, and she deserves it!” Smack! “Ooh! Stop it!” Smack! Smack! “You’re not to retaliate, no matter what she says to you. Understood?” Kiria squirmed against his broad chest, her buttocks tingling in anticipation as she spoke. “No, I don’t want her to think I’m weak, it’ll just encourage her. I want to tell her off.” “No. Stop arguing now, she’s my sister, and I’ll take care of it. You just be nice, and I’d better not hear of you smarting off to her.” “But, Ansel, I…” Suddenly, he dropped to the ground and pulled her over his lap. The grass tickled her face and legs as he pulled her dress up and bared her bottom. “Stop!” she cried, pulling down on her hem and struggling to get away. He easily pinned her hands at her sides, however, and proceeded to thoroughly redden her cold cheeks with his big hand. For an Ansel spanking, it had been mild, Kiria mused a minute later as he pulled her up into a big hug. She wasn’t even crying yet. “Are you ready to listen to me, now?” he asked, stroking her back and holding her close. “Yes…” “I just don’t want you to stoop to her level. That’s the easy way out. It takes a lot of courage to not retaliate. I know you want to tell her off, but it won’t help the situation at all. It’ll just make you look as bad as she does.” “I don’t care…”

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Ansel pulled her chin up and gazed sternly into her eyes. “Be honest with me, now. I know you care what people think; that’s why you nearly died of shame when I brought you here in your sweat pants and no make-up. I wouldn’t have done that if I’d known how you’d feel about it.” He watched as she slowly nodded in agreement. “Okay.” “Now, I promise I’ll take care of the problem, and you just have to trust me on this one, all right?” Kiria nodded her head, and he hugged her close. “Let’s go a little further now, so I can show you Eagle’s Peak.” Helping her up, he straightened her dress and jacket before draping an arm over her shoulder. Kiria gazed ahead as they walked, drinking in the beauty of the natural surroundings. They’d started off through a path in the forest, crossed a meadow, and were now surrounded by rocky outcroppings on three sides. The tree line ended far below the crests of the hilltops, lending a castle-like appearance to the towering crowns around them. “Which one is it?” she asked, thrilled at the spectacular landscape. “The tallest one, right there.” “I see it.” “There’s a huge eagle’s nest there, just under that outcrop. The last time I looked, it was about six feet across.” “Really? Are there any eggs in it now?” Ansel chuckled. “Not yet. It’s almost mating season, though.” “The eagles use the same nest all the time?” “Yes. I can only remember one year that it was empty. We don’t usually go up there, but you can see the baby eagles when they start learning to fly, at about three months old. By that time, they’re almost as big as their parents.”

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“Ansel, I want to paint a picture from up there!” Kiria bounced up and down on her toes, like a small child, grinning broadly. “I kind of figured you would,” he dryly remarked, his eyes twinkling at her excitement. “When can we climb up there?” “Tomorrow or the next day, depending on what Dad’s plans are.” “Oh, I can’t wait!” “You will wait. Don’t even think about going up there alone.” Kiria stopped jumping and stood still, her lower lip protruding as she glared up at him. “Ansel White, I wouldn’t do that! How dare you even think I would?” He laughed and kissed her. “Just making sure. Come on now, we’ve got to get back before it gets dark.” Kiria took one last look around her, and then took his hand to walk back. She could hardly sleep that night, tossing and turning both from her slightly sore bottom and her anticipation of the climb to Eagle’s Peak. Finally slipping into a deep sleep, she didn’t awaken until nearly nine o’clock. Jumping out of bed, she hurriedly showered and donned jeans and a sweater. Perhaps they could hike up there today! She ran down the stairs and nearly collided with Selina, who was coming out of the dining room. “Oh! Sorry! Good Morning! Sorry I slept so late! Where’s Ansel?” she chattered, as Selina smiled indulgently at her. “Good morning, dear. He went with his father and Dennis to the hardware store. He didn’t want us to wake you, so we let you sleep in. They probably won’t be back until this afternoon, though. You know how boys are when they get out by themselves…”

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“Oh.” Kiria felt a big lump of disappointment in her throat, but forced herself to smile. “Um… I guess I’ll go back upstairs and…” “Oh, no, dear, Miriam’s been waiting for you in the salon. She wants you to go for a walk with her, if you’d like to. And, you simply must have some breakfast, first! I had Martha keep some things warm for you.” “Oh! All right, then, thank you very much,” stammered Kiria. Selina turned and led the way to the kitchen, where Martha was busily kneading bread on a large oak table. “Here she is, Martha,” Selina announced, gesturing to a chair for Kiria to sit in. A minute later, Martha had placed six covered dishes on the table, and was watching expectantly for the young lady to serve herself. A little overwhelmed, Kiria took a little from each dish, certain that the woman would frown in disapproval if she rejected one. Selina excused herself to parts unknown, and Kiria tentatively took a small bite. Her mind was occupied with thoughts of Miriam, and she really didn’t feel like eating. The woman wanted to take a walk with her? Whatever for? How could Kiria be nice to her, if she started up with her rude comments and questions again? Kiria shifted in her seat, knowing beyond a doubt that she would fail to please Ansel this morning, and she would be paying dearly for it later on. The food tasted wonderful, and she soon found that she’d cleaned her plate of scrambled eggs, French toast, bacon, sausage, grits, and ham. Finishing off a large glass of orange juice, she thanked a broadly smiling Martha, and cautiously approached the salon. Miriam hopped up from a settee as Kiria appeared in the doorway. With a bright smile, she put her hand out and proclaimed, “Oh, I’m so glad you decided to come. I thought you’d hate me for being so rude last night. I really shouldn’t drink so

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much… Ansel’s right, you know. I’m very sorry; can you forgive me, please?” Kiria stared at her for a moment in complete surprise, and then tentatively nodded and shook her hand. Ansel must have had a really long talk with her, she thought; the woman was a completely different person! When would she learn to trust Ansel to take care of things?

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Chapter Fifteen

“Let’s have a picnic!” continued Miriam, and Kiria finally smiled at her. “We’ll bring a bottle of wine, and sandwiches, and we’ll hike up to Eagle’s Peak! Ansel told me you wanted to do a painting up there; you can paint and I’ll talk, all right?” “Um…” Kiria tried hard to remember what Ansel had told her yesterday. He’d said she couldn’t go up there alone, but he’d never said that she had to go with him. Miriam would be with her, and she didn’t think Ansel would want to sit around and watch her paint, anyway. “All right, that’s a great idea. I’ll go get my painting supplies.” “Cool! I’ll get the picnic stuff together.” And so, a few minutes later, the two women set off through the woods and across the meadow. The sun shone brightly, keeping them warm in the cool autumn air. They kept up a conversation on television shows as they walked, but when they started up a steep path, neither was able to say much; it was hard enough just to breathe. Miriam tirelessly moved up the trail, and Kiria found it difficult to keep up. By the time they reached a place to rest, Kiria had a new respect for the girl. She might be spoiled, but she certainly wasn’t soft. Finally, Miriam sat down on a huge log and opened her backpack. “Look, we’ve got all kinds of goodies here. Tuna on wheat, turkey on white, and ham on rye. I’m starving; how about you?” Kiria nodded and looked down at her watch. She’d eaten breakfast only two hours ago, but her

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stomach felt quite empty. “I’ll have the tuna, please.” After a cup of wine, a sandwich, and cheese and crackers, Kiria began to feel very sleepy. They’d talked about their favorite movies and actors, and still Miriam hadn’t said anything rude to her. She was beginning to like the girl. “How much further is it?” Kiria wanted to know. “Only about ten minutes, now.” “Let’s get started before I fall asleep, okay?” “Sure.” They cleaned up the area, continued the hike, and were soon standing on the brink of a rocky outcrop. Kiria gazed out over the gorgeous view in front of them. “It’s amazing,” she whispered in awe. “Look, there’s a river down there.” “That’s the Chattahoochee.” “Oh.” Kiria unzipped her backpack and began to unpack her painting materials. Miriam watched as she deftly set up her stool and easel, then sat down and began to squeeze little blobs of acrylic paint onto her palette. Quickly blending the colors she wanted with a palette knife, she was ready to begin. “Do you want to see the eagle’s nest?” asked Miriam. “Oh! Yes, I do,” replied Kiria. She put her palette down to happily follow Miriam up another small trail, above the tree line. They soon stopped short on top of a huge boulder, and Miriam pointed across a narrow gorge. “Isn’t it awesome? There aren’t any eagles in it right now, but I saw one flying around yesterday.” Kiria admired the huge nest of branches, leaves, and grass. It looked like it was nearly seven feet across, and she wondered at the size of its occupants. “I wish I could see the eagles,” she told Miriam. “Maybe they’ll come back soon. Tell you what, I’ll sit here and watch, while you paint, and if I see one, I’ll come and get you.”

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“Okay! Thanks!” “Can you find your way back to your painting?” “Oh, sure, no problem.” “All right then, if you finish before I get tired of watching, then come back and get me.” “Okay, see you later.” Miriam waved and Kiria started back down the trail, and then paused. “Miriam?” “Yes?” “I think you’re a really nice person, and I’m glad that you’re Ansel’s sister.” “Well, thanks, Kiria. I like you, too.” Kiria smiled and hurried down the trail to begin working on her canvas. The view was so good, that she didn’t even have the urge to inch closer to the edge to see better. She was soon lost in its creation, and was finished just a little over two hours later. Screwing the canvas into its case, she packed up all her supplies and headed up the trail. Miriam was not on the boulder. Kiria retraced her steps several times while calling out for her. Maybe she’d gone up the wrong trail? No, there was the eagle’s nest; there was no mistaking this spot. It was another ten minutes before Kiria realized she’d been had. Miriam had probably been back at the house for some time now, leaving Kiria alone on the craggy peaks. Heart thudding against her ribs, she began the long walk down the trail. After thirty minutes, her shins were beginning to ache. Although she’d had plenty of practice climbing straight up or running on streets, her muscles were unused to the angle she was now descending. She had a lot of time to think on her way back, and she was pretty sure that Miriam would lie about taking her up there. Ansel would be furious, and he’d probably paddle her butt red! Worse than that, he’d think she broke his trust yet again. She was nearly crying by the time she reached the long meadow. Her shins were screaming, her arms stung from numerous sharp

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tree branches, and her bottom tingled with every step. She began to trudge wearily across, stumbling through tangled weeds and thistles, when a movement up ahead caught her attention. Raising her eyes to the horizon, she froze; there was no mistaking Ansel’s athletic form as he swiftly strode through the long grass toward her. With a churning stomach and an aching throat, she stood waiting for him to reach her. All she wanted was to throw herself in his arms, but the look of reproach and disappointment in his expression held her back. She felt suddenly hot with shame, knowing what he must be thinking. She’d ignored his warning. She’d put herself in danger. She was impetuous and immature. Ansel stopped a few feet away to inquire, “Are you hurt?” “No,” mumbled Kiria, staring at her feet. After a long pause, he continued in a cool and distant tone, “Can you make it back to the house?” “Yes.” “Come straight up to your room, then.” Order delivered, he turned on his heel and stalked back toward the house. The last few hundred yards were the longest that Kiria had ever walked. She could think of no way out of the situation, and she no longer had the energy to try. Weakly pulling open the front door, she breathed a sigh of relief that no one was in sight, and then painfully climbed the stairs. Ansel sat on the bed, arms crossed and eyes smoldering with righteous anger. Wordlessly, he nodded toward the bathroom, and Kiria let her backpack slide to the floor before dejectedly making her way across the plush carpet. She stopped short at the doorway to stare in surprise at the hot bubble bath he’d prepared. Gratefully stripping off her clothes, she sank down into its soothing comfort. Even in his anger, Ansel knew just what she needed, she thought, as the heat relaxed her

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muscles. How could he be thinking of her comfort, after what he thought she’d done? Did he really love her that much, or was this just a prelude to his driving her home and out of his life? Kiria’s thoughts were interrupted as Ansel appeared in the doorway, glaring down at her. “Thank you for the bath,” she mumbled, soaping her toes with seemingly intense concentration. “Time to get out,” was his only reply as he stepped back out of sight. Blinking back tears, Kiria rinsed off under the shower and toweled herself dry. She put on a terrycloth robe, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair. Then she stepped into the bedroom, legs trembling, and approached Ansel, who now sat, ramrod straight, on the chair to the vanity. It sure didn’t look like he was going to drive her home. She watched him cross his arms, the dark look on his face leaving no doubt as to her fate. “Do I get to say anything first?” she asked, her body tingling all over in a curious mixture of fear and relief. He hadn’t rejected her, but all that pentup anger would soon be released upon her bare buttocks. “Like what? You forgot I told you not to go up there alone?” Ansel’s bitter tone startled her, and all she could do was shake her head no. “You just couldn’t wait for me to get back?” Again, she shook her head. “You decided I wasn’t smart enough to know what was dangerous for you? What can you possibly say?” “Um…” Kiria shivered as she stared at the muscle in his temple flexing in time with the tightening of his jaw. Although she knew he’d never seriously hurt her, she’d never seen him so angry before, and those massive biceps were intimidating as hell. “I looked at your painting,” he continued on a gentler note. “It’s magnificent. Almost like a

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photograph. Perhaps it was worth the price you’re going to pay?” “No, Ansel, I…” she simply shook her head again, unable to find the words to explain; the truth sounded ludicrous. He wouldn’t believe her, and then he’d punish her harder for lying. It would be easier to just submit. “I don’t think you’d believe me, so just go ahead and punish me.” “Oh, you don’t think so? Why don’t you try me? Just tell me the truth, Kiria, is that so hard?” “Yes,” she whispered, her face flushing in shame as she looked up at him. Suddenly the firm line of his lips softened, and his eyes burned into hers, “One more chance, Kiria. Tell me the truth. Please, tell me what made you go up there alone.” God, she wanted to. She wanted to tell him that Miriam had led her up there, pretended to be nice, and then abandoned her to face whatever danger lurked there, and worse, the one that was now right in front of her. “I… I didn’t go up there alone. Your…” Your sister is evil? It was no use. “I can’t…” Clenching her fists in frustration, she began to cry huge, salty tears that burned her throat. “Let’s get started, then.” Ansel sadly patted his thigh, and Kiria slowly approached him, avoiding his eyes. She draped herself over his knees and grabbed two handfuls of carpet as he lifted her robe and rolled it above her waist. Ansel didn’t waste any time. He began to spank her barehanded, holding nothing back. It wasn’t long before she was crying and pleading with him to stop and let her catch her breath. To her surprise, he did pause for a moment, letting his hand rest lightly on her burning cheeks. “The paddle’s next,” he told her firmly. “It’s going to be hard. I can understand you going up there, unable to resist another daring escapade. I know you’re impetuous, and that you didn’t have the patience to wait for me to get back. A good

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paddling can deal with that. What I don’t understand is why you won’t tell me what happened! It’s the same as lying, Kiria; you know that.” A shiver ran up Kiria’s spine as she realized just how bad this was going to be. “You’re going to tell me the truth, now or later. Do you want to talk yet?” Kiria remained silent. After a full minute had passed, Ansel picked up the paddle and began to apply it firmly across the middle of her cheeks in a fast, hard rhythm. She nearly bucked herself off his lap, but he pulled her hip tightly against him and kept swinging. “Noooo!” she cried, kicking her feet up as hot fire spread across her bottom. Suddenly the door burst open, and Miriam stepped in. “Stop, Ansel,” she yelled. Ansel nearly pushed Kiria off his lap in his haste to get up. Kiria scrambled to her feet, jerked her robe down, and stared in disbelief at Ansel’s sister. “It’s my fault!” Miriam exclaimed, “I took her up there!” “What?” Ansel’s astonishment grew. “You what?” “I took her up there. We had a picnic, and then I hid so she had to come back by herself.” Through several moments of dead silence, Kiria studied Miriam’s expression carefully. She didn’t look sorry, or ashamed, or even embarrassed. She looked… victorious… exalted. At last, Ansel found his voice. “Why in the hell would you do a thing like that?” “Because you wouldn’t tell me if you spank her or not, so I thought I’d see for myself. I heard you tell her not to go up there alone. But, I was right!” she smirked, striking a vainglorious pose. “Where’s Dennis?” Ansel’s tone was deadly calm. A look of unease crossed Miriam’s pretty face, and she took a step toward the door. “Right down the hall,” she hedged, taking another step.

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Ansel put one hand out, and Miriam ran for the door, but he easily caught her and dragged her to the chair. “No!” screamed Miriam, “You can’t do this! Dennis! Dennnisss!” Mortified at this turn of events, Kiria walked over to the door as Ansel positioned his sister over his knees, pulled down the zipper to her expensive leather pants, and peeled them down to her knees. He didn’t bother with a warm-up; he simply picked up the paddle and began to swat Miriam’s chubby, panty-clad cheeks with gusto. Kiria stepped out of the room, but Ansel saw her. He paused and said, “Kiria, sit down on the bed! I’m not through with you, yet.” His words were clear even over Miriam’s cries, and Kiria did as she was told, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Ansel thoroughly reddened every inch of his sister’s backside, ignoring her frantic cries for mercy. Kiria turned her head away, but the sounds reverberated loudly in the large room, and she wondered why everyone in the house hadn’t rushed in to investigate. Finally, Ansel threw the paddle to the floor and hauled a limp and bawling Miriam up to sit on his lap. “Being rude is one thing, Miri,” he lectured sternly, “but putting Kiria in danger was a terrible thing to do!” “But she wasn’t in danger,” sobbed Miriam, “I just hid for a while, and then I followed her down the trail. I never let her out of my sight.” Ansel seemed to calm down a little at that, but he continued to admonish her. “You caused her a lot of pain! How could you be so mean?” “I don’t know,” she cried, “I just get worse and worse, and I can’t stop myself!” “This has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?” Ansel tone was gentle now. He hugged his sister and rocked her, back and forth, in a soothing rhythm.

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“Y-yes…” she cried, “I’ve deserved this for a long time, but no one cares about me, anymore.” “Shh, honey, you know we all still care about you.” “D-Dennis doesn’t. He never even raises his voice to me. He just lets me do whatever I please, no matter how bad it is!” Miriam buried her face in Ansel’s shirt, and Kiria wished she could leave them in privacy. She stood up and took a step toward the door. “Sit down!” came Ansel’s stern command, and Kiria froze, undecided whether to sit or run like hell. Ansel had turned back to Miriam and was gently patting her back. “Honey, I’ll talk to Dennis. He just doesn’t understand what you need,” promised Ansel. “It’ll be all right, you’ll see. Now, I want you to go and stand in the corner for a while, and think about your apology to Kiria.” Miriam stood up on shaky legs and went to the corner, never looking at Kiria, who still stood by the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me what really happened?” Kiria turned to face Ansel’s angry tone. He was still mad at her? But now he knew that she was innocent! “I… I couldn’t.” “Why not? I’m sure you weren’t trying to protect Miriam, were you?” “No, I just… I was just convinced that you’d never believe me, and you’d think I was lying to you on top of what else you thought I’d done, and…” “Kiria, you never gave me a chance to believe you or not. You refused to tell me the truth.” Without warning, a surge of anger hit her, and she blurted out, “Oh, come on, now, what the hell was I going to say? Your sister took me up there and deserted me? Would you really have believed that?” She watched his eyes narrow at her outburst. “Yes, I would have believed it!” he angrily replied.

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“Like hell! Blood’s thicker than water! You spanked me last night, just for wanting to argue back with her! You told me to mind my own business if she was rude to me, and now you’re saying I should have told on her!” Ansel hit his thigh with his fist. “I told you to tell me if she did anything to upset you, so that I could take care of it! Damn it! I would have believed you, Kiria! I would have believed anything that made more sense than what I thought you’d done! The point is, you didn’t give me that option! You didn’t trust me to believe you! You wouldn’t confess even when I practically begged you to! Instead, you let me believe something entirely untrue! Do you know how much it hurt me to have to plan out a harsh punishment for your supposed crime? And then you let me carry it out! You manipulated me into doing something that wasn’t right! I feel like an idiot!” Kiria stared dumbly back as Ansel ended his loud tirade. It was all too much, and she couldn’t possibly answer to any of the things he’d accused her of. She glanced at Miriam’s back in the corner, and a sad calm settled over her. “God forbid you should feel like an idiot,” she muttered, and walked out of the room, leaving a gloomy silence behind her.

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Chapter Sixteen

Vaguely aware that she was wearing only a bathrobe, Kiria hurried to the end of the carpeted hallway and ran down the marble stairs. Jerking open the front door, she sailed through, head held high against any possible observers. The lush lawn beckoned in the early evening dusk, and she began to run, the steady soothing rhythm chasing away any thoughts bold enough to arise. When several acres of grass gave way to the far end of the driveway, she barely noticed the change in surface. Blindly following the pavement around to the highway, she turned right and continued along the shoulder. It wasn’t until about ten minutes later that the pain in her feet reached her conscious thoughts. She stopped by the side of the highway to stare down at them in surprise. They were bleeding from multiple small cuts. ______________ After an interminable silence, Miriam turned from the corner to see Ansel still sitting in the vanity chair, leaning forward with his face in his hands. “Go after her,” she told him. Ansel sat up a little and rubbed his forehead with the palms of his hands. “What?” “Go find her. Tell her you’re sorry.” Ansel gave a deep sigh. “She knows how much I hate lying. She knows that not telling the truth is the same as a lie. Why would she do this?”

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“It’s pretty much black and white, Ansel. No smart woman would pit herself against a man’s family. She didn’t manipulate you; she just couldn’t tell you what I did, even though she wanted to.” Ansel sat silently staring at the carpet for some time, and finally Miriam left the corner to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Ansel, go find her before it’s too late,” she said as she brushed past him and left the room. “I am an idiot,” he said aloud, and then he jumped up to begin his search. ______________ Kiria sat down on a fallen tree at the edge of the road. It was almost dark now, and she would have to go back to Ansel’s parents’ house, soon. She dreaded the thought of facing any of them, but it was the only way she’d get back home. Ansel really believed that she’d manipulated him, and that she didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth. With a heavy heart, she worked at the bark on the log until she’d pulled off two large pieces to strap to her feet with the long grass around her. At least she’d learned a few things about survival from Ansel. He’d filled her head with knowledge and her heart with love, and soon she’d be left with only the memories. She stood up on her makeshift sandals and began to limp back down the side of the two-lane state highway. Each step was painful, but not unbearable. For a while, she reflected on her growing ability to tolerate pain. Physical pain, that is. Emotional pain was still out of her realm to deal with. A car passed by, and she stared straight ahead, oblivious to what the occupants might be thinking as they saw her, outside in only her bathrobe. Several minutes later, another pair of headlights approached, slowed down, and a car stopped just behind her. Ansel had come to get her, she realized, a surge of hope rising within. Unsure of her reception, she continued to shuffle on.

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“Ma’am?” Kiria froze as she heard a stranger’s deep voice behind her. Slowly turning around, she saw a tall man striding toward her, his features indistinguishable against the background of his car’s glowing red taillights. Suddenly aware of the chill night air brushing against her face and neck, she pulled her robe close about her and stood still, fists clenched together beneath her chin. “Do you need a lift? You shouldn’t be out here all alone, and half-dressed at that!” His peremptory tone gave her a shiver of apprehension rather than reassurance. Kiria smiled nervously as the man stopped a few feet away. “Oh, no thank you, I’m fine.” Her thin, high voice was unrecognizable. When in danger, don’t show any fear! Ansel’s words reverberated past her racing thoughts. Look confident! She forced her hands to release their grip and adjusted her pose. A rueful smile flashed as she admitted, “I just got mad at my boyfriend and went for a walk. I don’t know what I was thinking! It’s gotten so cold out here, and I forgot my shoes, and so I just called him on my cell phone to come and get me!” She patted her robe pocket. “I appreciate your offer, though.” His head tilted for a moment as he appeared to ponder the veracity of her words. “I’ll wait with you, then. It’s not safe for you to be out here alone.” Kiria could make out his features now—blond, shortcropped hair, a crooked nose that had obviously been broken more than once in the past, flat cheekbones and sunken eyes, as if he hadn’t slept well for some time. “Come on, sit in the car and get warm.” With a tight, thin-lipped smile, he began to walk toward the glowing taillights, clearly expecting her to follow. Kiria laughed weakly. “No, really, I’ll be just fine. Ansel’s only a minute away.” He turned. “Ansel? Ansel White?”

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“Yes…” “Why, he’d skin me alive if I left you out here in the cold! Now, come on, get in the car, like a good little girl.” Little girl? Kiria shook her head. “He’d skin me alive if I did…” Smiling firmly, she backed away from the man as she spoke, but he advanced on her, his steps in time with hers. “Nonsense.” Suddenly he stopped, his features drawing together in an evil smile. “Honey, I’ll give you one more chance to get into that car, or I’ll just have to put you there myself.” Kiria stared wide-eyed at him. His intentions were now clearly dishonorable. She tried to hold back the rising panic. There was no way she would win if she tried to fight this guy, and running away from him was out of the question with her bruised and bleeding feet. She had little hope that Ansel would suddenly arrive on the scene. Putting forth a respect she didn’t feel, she replied, “Yes, sir,” and humbly approached, skirting around him toward his car. “That’s better,” he said, close behind her. “Just get in and warm yourself up.” “Yes, sir,” she repeated, wanting to give him a false sense of power. Her gaze searched the area visible in the headlights of his car. All she could see were tall trees, one after another. She might make it to one of them before he did, if he wasn’t expecting her to run for them. She was certain she could climb faster than him, and possibly she could go higher than him as well. But she knew that the only real advantage she had was a surprise move. They reached the back of the car, and the man stopped there while Kiria went to the passenger door and opened it. She sat down demurely and shut the door. As soon as he opened his door and slid in, however, she kicked her door open and jumped out; taking several quick leaps toward a nearby tree with low branches. Scrambling up like a

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monkey, she was unaware that her robe had fallen open and was exposing every intimate detail of her body as she climbed. The blonde man wolf-whistled from below. “Go away!” yelled Kiria, pausing to pull her robe back around her. She saw him look around and then walk toward his car to turn off the headlights. Kiria hugged the tree trunk, shivering in fear as she heard his footsteps rustling through the leaves in the dark. Maybe he wouldn’t know which tree she was in if she kept very still. Then a sudden beam of light crossed her face; he had a flashlight. She heard his malevolent chuckle below her. “I’m coming up to get you,” he called in an evil singsong. “Ready or not!” Kiria climbed up higher as she heard the branches below creak beneath his weight. Her hands were shaking so badly that she could hardly hold on. Suddenly, the flashlight clicked off, and she saw a dim glow emerge from around the curve in the road. Headlights appeared, and Kiria began to scream loudly and shake the limbs about her. A branch broke off in her hand, and she threw it down in front of the approaching vehicle. It slowed, and she ripped another branch off, throwing it down as well. She heard it scratch against metal, and then the squealing of brakes immediately followed. “Help!” Kiria yelled as loud as she could, “Up here! Help!” She heard the opening of a car door, and a bright light shone up from below. “Kiria? What’s going on here?” came Ansel’s deep voice. “Ansel! Up here!” she screamed, feeling weak and faint as a wave of profound relief rushed through her. “Your girlfriend got stuck in this tree, and I was trying to help her get down,” called the blond man before Kiria could reply. “Don’t move,” he whispered to Kiria, “I’ve got a gun and I’ll shoot him!” His

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hand then closed tightly about her ankle. “She’s very frightened.” Kiria knew that Ansel was waiting for her to verify the man’s words, but she couldn’t decide what to do—what if he did have a gun? But wouldn’t he have used it to coerce her if he did? “Come on now, you’re safe; I’m right below you,” the man loudly cajoled. “Just step down a little; you won’t fall.” He squeezed her ankle meaningfully. “Kiria?” Ansel’s tone was now more puzzled than alarmed, and she knew that he believed that the man was trying to help her. You let me believe something that was entirely untrue! Ansel’s voice was in her head again, accusing, criticizing, and yet it gave her courage… “No!” she screamed, kicking the man’s arm with her other foot. “Ansel, he’s lying! He chased me up here! He says he has a gun!” Kiria pulled hard on a branch above her, trying to get free of the man’s grip. “Bitch!” she heard him snarl, his fingers digging deeper into her skin. The branch broke off, and she swung it downward into the darkness—where had the light gone? It flashed back on her immediately, and the distinct click of a rifle’s barrel cocking was heard. “Let go of her,” came Ansel’s steely command, “or I’ll put this bullet right through your head. Get your filthy hands away from her and get down here.” Kiria jerked her foot up as the man’s grip loosened, and she climbed up another two branches. “He said he has a gun,” she warned Ansel again, fighting back tears of relief. She hugged the tree trunk tightly and listened to the man below her climbing down. Ansel’s cell phone tones told her he was calling 9-1-1. “This is Ansel White. I’ve got a man under gunpoint who just tried to attack my girlfriend. I’m

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about a half-mile north of my parents’ house, on Route 37… No, no one’s hurt… yet… okay… thanks.” “Sit down right there, hands above your head,” she heard Ansel tell the man. “Kiria, can you get down by yourself?” “Yes, I think so,” she replied. Slowly and carefully, she eased down, one branch at a time, while Ansel held both the light and his rifle on the man. Only a few minutes later, two police cars pulled up, lights flashing, and four officers cautiously approached as Ansel filled them in. They quickly cuffed the blond man and put him in the back of one cruiser. Ansel pulled Kiria into his arms as she made the last step to the ground, hugging her tightly to him. “Oh, thank God,” he whispered into her ear, “I’m so glad I got here in time!” Kiria burst into tears of relief. She didn’t have the energy left to speak as she let her aching arms relax in his embrace. Her legs felt weak, and she started sliding to the ground, but Ansel picked her up like a baby and carried her to his Jeep. “Sit here while I talk to the police,” he said, buckling her into the passenger seat. “Where’s that man? Is he still here?” she asked, her eyes frantically searching the area. “Don’t leave me here alone, Ansel!” “He’s handcuffed in the police cruiser, honey. He can’t get away, I promise.” Kiria nodded and looked at Ansel. She saw that she was gripping his shirt with both hands so tightly, that her knuckles were white. It hurt like hell to relax her fingers and try to straighten them out. “I’ll be right back. You’re safe right here. Okay?” Kiria nodded and leaned back against the seat. She watched as two officers searched the blond man’s car. They carried something over to Ansel and the other cops.

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Soon, Ansel and an officer came over to question her, and she wearily told them everything she could remember. When she got to the part about her feet, Ansel quickly picked one up and unwrapped the makeshift sandal. “We need to get you back and take care of this,” he told her. “We’ll be done soon,” the officer assured them, scribbling quickly on his report. It was another ten minutes before they were allowed to leave, and Kiria burst into tears again, as soon as they drove away. Ansel parked in the driveway and held her close for a while as she began to calm down. “What did they take out of that guy’s car?” Her voice was still shaky. “Drugs.” “Oh. No wonder he was acting so crazy.” “Yes.” “I’m ready to go in, now.” “Good.” Ansel kissed her forehead and squeezed her tightly for a moment before getting out to carry her up to her room. “Thank you for saving me, Ansel.” she told him belatedly, as he laid her gently on the bed. “It was all my fault,” he told her, “If I hadn’t chased you away with my ridiculous accusations, none of this would have happened. I’m so sorry, Kiria.” “You mean, you don’t blame me anymore for not telling you what Miriam did?” “No. I was wrong. I was so angry that you wouldn’t tell me the truth, that I couldn’t see that you had a good reason not to.” Tears pooled in her eyes again as Ansel hugged her. Then he sat up and began to unwind the grass from her other foot. “It’s a good thing you remembered how to do this, or your feet would be even worse than they are.”

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She winced as he pulled off the last layer. “It’s a good thing you thought of climbing that tree, too. I’m glad you’re so smart.” He smiled down at her. “Running barefoot down a highway wasn’t very smart,” she parried. “You were upset. Like I said, it was my fault, and I promise I’ll never upset you like that again.” “Well then, I promise I won’t run away like that again,” she smiled back. After Kiria soaked in the tub, Ansel bandaged her feet and took a quick shower. He fell asleep next to her on the bed. ______________ Late the next morning, Ansel woke up first; his groin telling him that something was different today. Kiria was lying alongside him, her bare buttocks pressed against his swollen cock. Her nightgown had risen above her waist, and it fell open in front, exposing one full breast. His arm was just inches from the round globe presenting itself to him. He groaned silently; just how important was it, really, that she be a virgin on their wedding night? She didn’t want it that way. She’d said she wanted to give herself to him as soon as possible. Last night, he’d been more afraid than ever before in his life. She’d almost been murdered, and if he hadn’t come along when he had… He shivered, remembering the size of the knife they’d found under the driver’s seat of the man’s car. He’d lied to Kiria, seeing no reason to frighten her further. He’d always thought there was never a good reason to lie to the one you love, but now he’d done it himself, and it made perfect sense. He’d been a pompous fool, with his strict views on lying, and from now on, he’d be a little more flexible on that issue. Kiria moved in her sleep, pushing harder against him, and his cock pulsed in response. What if there wasn’t a wedding night? What if fate intervened

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before he got up the nerve to take her? He’d never had a virgin before, and he didn’t want to hurt her, but it had to happen sometime soon. Kiria wiggled against him and smiled. God, he was going to burst if he didn’t have some relief soon. A nice cold shower, maybe… With a yawn, Kiria turned over into his embrace, her warm breasts pressing against his chest as she put her arms around him. One long leg slid along his, brushing across his balls, his cock throbbing against her stomach. Oh, God, he had to get up now, or never… Then Kiria nestled her face against his neck, her warm breath caressing the sensitive skin where his carotid artery pulsed. Her hand slid down his chest to his... That was it. He was only human, after all.

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Chapter Seventeen

Ansel growled and rolled over on top of her, looking down into her now half-open eyes. She smiled and kissed the air between them. He bent down and kissed her lips hard, then broke off and moved to her soft breasts, massaging them, sucking the nipples as she moaned in response. His fingers slid down her belly, through the silky curls, and into her soft wetness. She pushed up against his hand and whispered his name. To hell with virginity, he thought. She wanted him, he wanted her, and nature was going to win. He smiled to himself as he licked his way down to her hidden lips and teased her, until her moans of pleasure told him she was close to exploding. Then, in one quick move, he was leaning on his elbows above her, his cock pressed firmly against her labia, staring down into her golden eyes, now wide-open in surprise. “I don’t want to wait any more,” he whispered, his body taut and ready to spring. “I want you now…” She nodded and gave him her brilliant smile. He thrust hard into her, leaning down to kiss away her sudden cry of distress, pushing again until he was fully seated. He heard her whimper as she tried to wiggle away from him, and he turned his attention to her breasts, kneading and massaging until she relaxed and began to kiss him back. He moved slowly out and in again, once, twice, three times against the hot, smooth, incredibly tight passage.

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Then he came, with a blinding explosion, shocking him with its intensity. Every nerve in his body pulsed with pleasure, like nothing he’d ever felt before. It lasted for ages, leaving him weak and barely able to hold himself up as he regained his senses. He looked down to see her staring up at him in awe, tears filling her eyes and trailing down across her cheeks. Hoping he hadn’t hurt her too much, he rolled to his back, pulling her with him until she lay limply across his chest, legs apart and still impaled. He pulled his knees up and squeezed her buttocks. “Move against me.” Kiria buried her face in his neck and obeyed. He felt her press tentatively against him, and he pushed up from his heels. Her tangled hair tickled his sides; he brushed it down her back with his fingers. She became still again, and he gently stroked her back, her buttocks, and then her breasts, pinching her nipples slightly as her breathing quickened. Where was the wild woman he’d spanked and brought to orgasm with just his fingers so many times before? Ansel smiled to himself and slapped one firm cheek sharply. Her head jerked up in surprise, but before she could speak, he slapped her other cheek. Kiria pressed against him. “That’s right,” he encouraged her, sliding his hands down her back to cup her ass cheeks. He pulled her closer, rubbing against as he pushed up, feeling her vaginal muscles contract. God, that felt so good. He leaned up to kiss her as she experimentally lifted herself up and back down again, pulling her knees up along either side of him. It wasn’t long before she found her own rhythm, rocking and pushing against his groin while he caressed her breasts and buttocks. She suddenly stiffened, her hands gripping the pillow behind his head as she moaned her release. “Oh, yes,” he said softly, “that’s a good girl.” As soon as she relaxed, he rolled over on top of her again, sliding in and out as he felt himself grow

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impossibly hard inside her. This time he lasted much longer, watching her reactions to his thrusts, waiting while she alternately whimpered or moaned, finding the best angle to please her. She soon came again, digging her nails into his back as he rode her harder, his balls slapping against her buttocks until his own pleasure caught him by surprise yet again, throbbing through his mind with an almost violent force of electric sensations. Collapsing onto the bed at her side, he pulled her to him and stroked her back as his ragged breathing slowly returned to its normal rhythm. “That was incredible,” he said softly, pulling up her chin to kiss her lips. She smiled and snuggled up closer. “It was unbelievable,” she replied. “I’ve read that women have better orgasms than men, but the way you acted, I’m not so sure.” “Honey, I’ve never had any like that before. You’ve got a magic spell or something.” “That’s the corniest line I’ve ever heard,” she giggled, and he slapped one buttock in admonition. “You’re right.” He kissed her hard and sat up. “Come on, we’ve got to get up, now.” ______________ Kiria rolled lazily over and perused his naked backside as he went into the bathroom. She didn’t want to move a muscle, let alone get up and walk. Her feet were throbbing beneath the bandages, but the rest of her felt incredibly good. She heard the toilet flushing, and turned back to hug her pillow. Sleep would be good right now, she thought, but as soon as she’d drifted off, a sharp slap to her backside startled her into sitting straight up. “Shower. Now.” Ansel stood beside the bed, giving her that no-nonsense look. “No. I wanna go back to sleep,” she pouted, knowing full well the consequences. Sure enough, he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her

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over his knee. She barely moved as he warmed her cheeks to a rosy glow. “Ready to get up, yet?” He waited, hand held high in readiness. “No, sir,” she mumbled, turning to smile up at him. Ansel began to rub her back. “What’s the matter? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Kiria giggled. “I mean, with the sex.” “Oh. Yes, it hurts like blazes, and now I’m emotionally traumatized.” More giggling ensued, and Ansel sighed, got up, and went into the bathroom to shower. Kiria stretched and then grinned as she heard his off-key rendition of a popular song echoing from the shower. She wondered what one was supposed to do right after losing their virginity. Douche? Take a bath? Maybe Ansel would know. She didn’t feel any different, other then being wonderfully relaxed. It didn’t hurt down there. She felt like they should be celebrating this event, not getting up and joining his family for the day. Maybe they should have waited for the wedding, when they could have spent days in bed, having champagne brought up from room service. Kiria began to feel a bit sorry for herself, and by the time Ansel got out of the shower, she was convinced that they’d made a big mistake. She idly watched through the open bathroom door as he toweled himself dry. He was truly magnificent; muscles flexing beneath tanned skin, thick dark hair curling on his chest… he was looking right at her, his blue eyes seeming to sparkle in the slight mist left by the shower. Kiria felt her stomach muscles tense as a wave of desire rushed through her. She wanted him again already. She wanted his cock inside her, filling her up, making her feel that incredible rush of pleasure that she’d only just discovered. The hell with it; they’d never have

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made it to the wedding date. They continued to stare at each other, neither one moving, until Kiria looked down to his groin—his cock was standing straight up, rock hard and ready. She smiled and he slowly sauntered toward the bed like a lion stalking its dinner… closer… closer… He was suddenly on top of her, and their mouths met, tongues eagerly entwining as he hugged her with one arm while touching her down there with the other. She felt his fingers slide gently against her clitoris, slick and warm, and then only seconds later, he slid into her, stretching her to fit him, filling her with a hot, throbbing sensation—had it been this big an hour ago? Kiria moaned against his lips as he pulled her knees up to her shoulders and wrapped his huge arms around them, his hands meeting behind her neck, supporting her head. This was interesting… His lips muffled her squeal of surprise as he pulled out and thrust into her with one quick movement. Her arms tightened around his neck as he pulled out again, but then he paused and lifted his head to look down at her. “Is this okay?” “Um… I don’t know.” How did one express something so totally overwhelming? “Does it hurt?” His brows rose in concern. “No. It just feels… I don’t know.” “Want to try it again?” he smiled, the sultry look in his eyes persuading her to agree. “Okay.” she smiled back. Ansel pressed his lips to hers and slowly pushed into her. “God, you feel so good,” he murmured, moving his mouth to her ear and licking the lobe. Kiria held on tightly as he pulled out again, thrusting harder this time, making her gasp involuntarily as new sensations filled her mind. “Just tell me if you want me to stop.” She began to pant as he moved in and out, slowly at first, but then faster and harder, plunging

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into her over and over again, making her want to move against him, but she was pinned in place like a butterfly specimen and all she could do was hold onto his neck and feel. His breath was hot in her ear, telling her how good it felt, how incredible she was, how much he loved her. Kiria began to feel her abdominal muscles contracting like they did just before she orgasmed, but he wasn’t touching her there, he was just slamming against her, over and over, and then she screamed as her body suddenly tensed and burst into a million tingling explosions of pleasure. Moments later, she was vaguely aware that Ansel had stopped moving and was pressed tightly to her, his muscles taut and vibrating against her arms and legs. “Kiria.” Ansel’s voice was far away, but when she opened her eyes, his face was only inches above hers. “Yes,” she whispered. “Are you okay?” Ansel brushed his fingers down the side of her face, sending a tremor throughout her entire body. “I think so.” She took a deep breath and shivered when he touched her face again. “Stop doing that.” Ansel smiled and did it again. She dug her nails into his back, and he rolled to her side, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “You have some interesting reactions to love-making.” Kiria studied his pleased expression. “And how do women usually react after you have sex with them?” “That’s a loaded question.” One brow rose as he smiled and slowly shook his head. “I’m not touching that with a ten foot pole.” She rolled her eyes at the cliché. “All right then, how am I different?” Ansel pulled her to him, sliding his arm under her neck and holding her close. “Honey, everything about having sex with you is different. It’s been a

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while since I’ve had sex, but I don’t remember it being anything as great at this.” Kiria smiled and closed her eyes, snuggling against his chest. “I liked it, too.” Ansel slapped her bottom and she giggled. “Come on, you can do better than that,” he prompted. “Okay, I loved it. I want to do it every hour for the rest of the day.” She giggled again. “I wish. Unfortunately, we’ve got to make an appearance downstairs soon.” He kissed her and sat up. “I’m going to fix you a bath, and then I’m going to put you in it while I shower in my room.” “But, Ansel, I’m too tired. I need to sleep for a while.” She closed her eyes again and pulled a pillow to her chest. “What you need is a spanking, young lady.” “No, I don’t. I just lost my virginity ; doesn’t that deserve a vacation, or something?” There was a long pause as Ansel considered that. “Well… I guess that is a momentous occasion…” “I want to go back to sleep.” Ansel looked closely at her. She did look very tired, and there were faint shadows beneath her eyes. “All right. Bath first, and then you can sleep.” “But, Ansel,” Kiria murmured, half-asleep already. A sharp slap to her bottom brought her fully awake. “Bath time.” He got up and went into the bathroom, and Kiria sat up, knowing she’d just won an argument with him for the first time, and not willing to push it any further. She placed her feet tentatively on the floor and slowly put weight on them. It hurt, but not unbearably. She began to walk slowly toward the bathroom, when Ansel appeared at the doorway. With an angry look, he scooped her up and sat her down on the bed. “Just what do you think you’re doing? Let me look at your feet.” Ansel dropped to his knees and

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began to unwind the bandages. He carefully inspected her soles, and Kiria could see that they were bruised and covered with small nicks and cuts. “You’d better stay off your feet today.” “Yes, sir.” She smiled down at him. No argument here. He carried her to the bathroom and left while she relieved herself, and then returned to help her into the bathtub. Kiria looked down at her self just before she submerged, and saw several faded red streaks of blood on her thighs. “That’s funny,” she said, “the doctor told me I probably wouldn’t have any more periods after I got that shot for birth control last month.” Ansel laughed, and Kiria looked up at him in surprise. “It was your hymen, silly.” “Oh! Wow, I never even thought of that!” As he left her in the bath, she wondered again why he always knew more than she did, even about her own body. ______________ Hours later, propped up on the leather couch beneath Bill’s head, Kiria had had enough of staying in one spot. She wanted to get up and explore the mountains again, run through the meadows, find another spot to paint, or just go to the bathroom by herself! Ansel had pampered her all day, bringing her glasses of iced tea, snacks, and magazines, but now she was tired of reading, and Ansel and Dennis were playing a game of pool, as if she no longer existed. Everyone in the household had heard about the events of the previous night, and there was no one left to talk to about it. This was so boring, and she was afraid the huge buffalo would fall on her at any moment. She rolled off the couch onto her hands and knees, and crawled to the bar. No one noticed, which struck her as funny, somehow. Smiling to herself, she sat on the floor and made herself a

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Texas Tea, á la Miriam, and walked on her knees back to the couch with it. It didn’t taste very good, but it was much better than boredom, and she drank it down quickly. A warm fuzzy feeling enveloped her soon afterwards, and she decided to make another one. Just as she rolled off the couch, though, Miriam walked into the den. “What in the world are you doing, Kiria?” she asked, stopping to stare as Kiria began to crawl across the floor. Ansel was at her side in an instant, scooping her up and plopping her down on a barstool. He stood glaring at her, arms crossed and brows furrowed. “I was just going to make myself a drink,” explained Kiria, crossing one leg over the other for balance. She turned to Miriam. “I hurt my feet and can’t walk on them today.” “Yeah, I heard. I’m so glad you’re okay,” Miriam said, sounding unpredictably sympathetic. “I told you I’d get you anything you need,” admonished Ansel as he brushed past and poured her some iced tea. Dennis walked over and gazed sternly at Miriam. “What are you doing down here?” “I was bored up there, and it’s almost dinnertime, anyway…” Miriam looked apologetically at her husband, and Kiria stared at her in surprise. “I told you to stay in your room all day.” Dennis already had the stern tone of voice down pat. “Yes, but the day’s over now.” Miriam put her arms around Dennis’s shoulders and hugged him. “Please let me stay down here,” she cajoled. Easy target, thought Kiria, but to her surprise, Dennis shook his head no and pointed upstairs. Miriam slowly turned and left the room. “It is almost dinnertime,” said Ansel, checking his watch. “Let’s finish this game, Dennis.” Kiria leaned over the bar and added vodka to her tea as soon as Ansel turned his back to shoot at the three ball. It tasted better now. She drank it

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quickly while watching the game, which Dennis soon won. The men approached the bar, and Kiria grinned as Dennis excused himself to go and get Miriam for dinner. “I can’t believe she did what he told her to,” she exclaimed to Ansel, who was watching her curiously. Kiria swallowed the last of her drink and plunked the glass down on the bar. The movement put her off balance, and she leaned precariously to the side as Ansel jumped up to steady her. “Did you put alcohol in your drink?” he asked. “Yes…” she laughed, “jush, I mean, just two drinks… while you were playing pool…” Ansel sighed and picked her up in his arms. “You’re such a lightweight. No more drinks for you tonight.” He carried her to the dining room, where Ansel’s mother was already seated. “I hope you’re feeling better, Kiria.” Selina smiled at her. “Yesh. I mean, yes, thank you.” Kiria smiled back, and the room spun. “She’s so much better that she got bored and made herself a couple of drinks,” explained Ansel. Kiria stared at him in surprise. He was telling on her! Selina smiled again. “Perhaps she should go up and take a nap, then.” “As soon as she eats something, that’s exactly where I’m taking her.” “Ansel,” Kiria objected, fed up with being ignored. “Don’t you think itsh a bit rude to talk about someone ash if they weren’t even here?” Her lips felt numb. She rubbed them clumsily with her napkin. “Shh.” He actually put his finger to his lips. “You got yourself into this situation, now just sit there and be quiet.” Kiria was about to tell him that she would not be quiet, when Miriam and Dennis came in and sat down, and Martha began to pour tea for everyone.

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“Thank you,” muttered Kiria, reaching for the tea. There were two glasses in front of her, and when she closed her hand around one, the other one fell over. She stared at the spilled liquid in surprise as Ansel leaned over to blot it up with his napkin. “I’m shorry,” she told him, staring at her plate, which kept moving back and forth. She heard Ansel’s father sit down and greet everyone. Kiria mumbled hello, but didn’t look up, afraid the room would spin again. “I hope you’re ready for grace,” Ansel whispered into her ear. Kiria obediently closed her eyes and folded her hands together under her chin. She heard Andrew’s voice, as if from a great distance, beginning the prayer. It went on for some time, and she felt herself leaning toward Ansel. The prayer! She must sit upright! She opened her eyes a little to get some idea of which way was up, but her eyes focused only on Miriam, who was staring at her and hiding a big grin behind her hands. She knows I’m drunk, thought Kiria. Then Miriam stuck out her tongue, making Kiria shake with silent laughter, Ansel elbowed her ribs, and she fell sideways onto the empty chair beside her. Andrew continued to pray as if nothing was happening. Kiria pulled herself back up and coughed into her napkin. Squeezing her eyes shut, she managed to stay still until the prayer was over. She even heard and understood the words, which weren’t at all boring. Then, to her surprise, Ansel pulled out her chair and picked her up in his arms. “Excuse us, please,” he told the others, “We’ll be right back.”

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Chapter Eighteen

“Anshel, put me down, I’m gonna be okay, now.” Kiria pushed weakly against his chest, but he strode quickly into the den with her and sat down on a couch. “How many drinks did you have?” he demanded, pulling her chin up to look at him. “Jush two! I made two dwinks like Miri’s.” Kiria smiled unconcernedly at his angry expression bobbing before her. “Texas Tea?” “Yesh! That’s it!” she laughed, punching him in the arm. “That’s like having eight drinks! I’ve never been so embarrassed— you interrupted the prayer!” “Miriam stuck her tongue out at me!” she giggled, demonstrating the act. “Stop laughing. Do you think you can behave long enough to eat something?” Kiria nodded her head, still laughing. Ansel shook his head and Kiria laughed even harder. “You’re mad at me, aren’tchu?” “I’m just really annoyed. I’m not sure any of this is your fault, though.” “I’m shorry,” she said, grinning too widely to be truly remorseful. “I don’t think you’re in any shape to socialize right now, so I’m going to bring your dinner in here.” She blurted out, “But, Anshel, I don’t wanna eat by myself! Please, I’ll be good, I’ll stop laughing, I promise!”

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Ansel studied her for a moment. She actually had tears in her eyes, and was sitting straight up without wobbling. The pleading look in her eyes was irresistible. So what if she laughed too much—the prayer was over, now. “All right. But I want you to sit quietly and eat your dinner, okay?” “Okay,” she smiled, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. Ansel carried her back to the dining room and helped her into her seat. Miriam and Dennis were now absent. “I’m sorry, sir,” Kiria said to Ansel’s father. “I’m not used to drinking.” Andrew gave Kiria a curious look. “Then why did you drink so much?” Ansel interrupted, “She didn’t know what she was doing. She saw Miriam make a Texas Tea last night and tried to make the same thing, and then drank two of them.” “Oh.” Andrew smiled at Kiria. “Learned something new, eh?” “Yes, sir,” Kiria smiled, blushed, and stared down at her plate. Andrew passed a huge platter of lemon-rosemary roasted ch icken to Ansel, who served himself a breast and gave Kiria a thigh, her usual choice. As the vegetables were passed around, Ansel continued to serve both Kiria and himself. Dennis and Miriam returned, the latter sitting down very carefully, her face and eyes red from crying. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” Miriam told Andrew, who nodded to her and began to eat. Ansel surmised that they’d seen her stick out her tongue during the prayer. Andrew began to tell them all a funny story about a recent visit to his chiropractor, and the tension evaporated as everyone laughed. Ansel watched Kiria carefully as she ate—her hand shook, but she didn’t seem to be as dizzy or off balance as she was earlier. She set her glass down too close to the edge of the table and then

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glared at him when he moved it back for her. He knew she was irritated by his babying her, but damned if he was going to stop. As he ate the last bite of food on his plate, he noticed that Kiria had hardly touched any of hers. She really needed to get some food into her stomach, after all that alcohol. “Kiria, you need to eat more,” he prompted, “don’t you like it?” She glanced around the table as if checking to see if anyone had heard him. For God’s sake, she ought to know by now that his family understood who was in charge in their relationship. Finally, she looked his way and whispered, “I like it fine, I’m just not hungry.” Ansel spoke a little louder. “You need to eat some more, anyway.” Kiria put her fork down and coughed into her napkin. “I’ll eat more when I’m hungry,” she whispered. “It doesn’t matter if you’re hungry or not; you drank too much, and now you’ve got to get something healthy into your system,” he loudly told her. Everyone at the table stopped talking for a moment. Kiria blushed and stared incredulously at Ansel. “All right, then,” she stated archly, and picked up a green bean with her fingers. Still facing him, she bit off the end of it and made a production of chewing up the small piece. Ansel wanted to put her over his knee right there, but he knew it was the alcohol affecting her common sense. He turned away from her and served himself another piece of chicken. With peripheral vision, he saw her bite off another little piece and chew the hell out of it, still facing him. Miriam caught his eye and smiled sweetly as she took a bite of chicken. His parents were giving each other knowing looks, and no one was talking yet.

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Dennis asked Andrew what he thought about a recent football game, and Ansel joined in the conversation, ignoring Kiria’s continued exhibition. When the green bean was at last consumed, Kiria picked up a grain of rice with her fingers and began again. No one paid her any attention. When s he slurped her tea, Miriam glanced at her involuntarily, but quickly turned back to pretend intense interest in the football conversation. Ansel smiled as Kiria went back to eating individual rice grains, wondering when she’d finally give it up. It suddenly occurred to him that she must want him to stop her, else why would she persist? As she put her fingers into her food once again, Ansel caught her wrist and pulled her hand over to wipe it off with his napkin, still telling Dennis what he’d thought of the last touchdown of the game. Kiria pulled back, but he held on firmly until he realized that she was now picking up rice with her other hand. This wasn’t going to be easy, but then again, things rarely were with Kiria. He stood up. Kiria ignored him and continued to eat her rice. “Kiria.” “Yes?” she looked up innocently. “Let’s go upstairs. You need to wash your hands.” “I’m not through eating yet.” She turned back to her plate. “Now, Kiria,” he prompted. “No.” “No?” “N, o, spells ‘no.’” “If you don’t get up and come with me, then by God, I’ll carry you up there.” “Don’t be ridiculush.” She calmly took a long drink of water. “You can’t carry me up the stairs; it’s dangerush.”

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“Maybe I should spank you, then, right here and now!” Alcohol be damned, he wasn’t going to put up with this deliberate defiance. “No, you won’t,” she said calmly, picking up her napkin and wiping off her hands. Ansel looked up to see that everyone was avoiding looking their way except Miriam, who was staring unabashedly at them. The line had been drawn, foolishly on his part, but now there was no choice but to follow through with his threat. He pulled his chair back out and sat down, facing Kiria. “Ahem,” Andrew cleared his throat. “Ansel, why don’t you just take Kiria upstairs and settle this there?” “I’m not going.” Kiria stated determinedly, crossing her arms. “I really think it would be best,” Selina prompted, smiling persuasively at Kiria. “If I go upstairs, he’s going to spank me. And I don’t want to be spanked.” Ansel was amazed at how easily that word flowed from her lips—a month ago she couldn’t even whisper it. Alcohol certainly worked well on her inhibitions. “I’m going to spank you. Here or there; it’s your choice.” “Go for it, then.” Kiria sat up in her chair and gripped both sides of the seat with her hands. Ansel sighed and picked her up, chair and all, heading for the hallway. With a short laugh, she wiggled off the chair and ran to the other side of the table with quick, hopping steps. “Dang, that hurts,” she exclaimed, standing on one foot and rubbing the other. “I’m not going to chase you around that table,” Ansel told her sternly. “I’ll just wait here until you come out.” He put the chair down by the doorway and sat in it. Kiria smiled and sat down next to Miriam. “I’ll bet you just got spanked,” she told her.

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Miriam’s mouth made a little “o” as she tried to think of something appropriate to reply with. “I’ll bet you won’t stick your tongue out at me again.” Kiria leaned toward Miriam, smiling, and Ansel figured correctly that she’d forgotten about him. “I ought to stick my tongue out at you, but it is a bit juvenile.” Ansel was right behind Kiria now. He wrapped his arms beneath hers and pulled her up from the chair. She immediately began to kick at his legs as he tried to pull her away from the table. “No!” she yelled, “You are not going to spank me! Let me go!” Ansel managed to turn her around, whereupon she pounded his chest with her fists. “I’ve been through enough in the past few days!” “Kiria, calm down. You’re acting like a two-yearold.” “I don’t care! You’ve spanked me every day since we’ve been here, and I got all scratched up, trying to find my way down from that mountain, and then last night my feet got cut up, and then I almost got killed by psycho! I’ve had enough!” “Apparently not.” Ansel picked her up and slid her over his shoulder, bottom side up. He smacked her twice, and she pinched his back, hard. “Ow! Don’t do that again!” She immediately pinched him again, and he had to pull her back up into his arms, holding her wrists together as she screamed out her rage. Tears streamed down her reddened face; she was totally out of control. “And that’s not all!” she yelled, “Today you spanked me again, and then I lost my virginity, and now I’m drunk for the first time in my life, just trying to copy Miriam, and I hate this! I don’t wanna be drunk anymore!” “Oh, Jesus,” sighed Ansel, feeling all eyes on him. The tips of his ears burned. He put Kiria down in the chair, dropped to his knees, placed both hands to the sides of her face, and turned her to

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him. “Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t spank you. I just want to get you upstairs and calmed down. Okay?” Kiria stared at him in surprise for a long moment. Then she threw her arms around his neck and cried. He picked her up and carried her out of the room, feeling his ears burn even hotter at the thought of what they all might be discussing now. Once upstairs, he brought her into his own room and held her close while she cried it out. As soon as she fell asleep, he took a damp washcloth to her face, leaving it on her forehead after tucking the sheets in around her. He took a deep breath and went downstairs to face the music… Kiria awoke to a blinding pain over her right eye. She struggled to open her eyes, but they felt heavy. She put her hand up to find a damp washcloth over them. Pulling it off, she squinted into the semidarkness of Ansel’s room. How did she get here? She didn’t remember coming in here. She didn’t remember anything since dinnertime, when she’d gotten mad at Ansel for making her eat, because— she’d been drunk! Shame flooded her cheeks. She put the cool washcloth against her face, remembering more of the night’s events. She’d yelled at him in front of his family, and she’d cried in front of them, too. He’d carried her upstairs, and then… had they made love again? Had he spanked her? She couldn’t remember anything after that. She needed to use the bathroom, and she slowly sat up, grimacing at the pain in her head. She staggered into the bathroom and managed to pull down her pants and sit on the toilet. It was several minutes before she had enough energy to get up and go back to the bed. Where was Ansel? She remembered being annoyed that he was taking care of her, but now she fervently wished he were here to do it again. Kiria rubbed her temple with the heel of her palm for a while, but it didn’t help much. Suddenly, the door

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opened and Ansel walked in, carrying a tray that he put down on the dresser. “Hi, baby. I’ll bet you don’t feel very good.” “I feel horrible,” she said, her voice sounding raspy and weak. Ansel took a hairbrush out of the dresser drawer and came over to her side. Kiria stared at it, eyes wide, as he helped her to sit up, but then he began to gently brush the tangles out of her hair. She smiled and sat passively until he was through. Returning the brush to the dresser, he then brought the tray to the bed and placed it over her lap. A large glass of orange juice looked tempting, but when she picked it up and sipped it, it tasted odd. “Drink it up,” Ansel commanded. “What’s in it?” she wrinkled her nose at him. “Something to make you feel better.” Kiria took a big swallow and almost choked on it. “It’s terrible!” Ansel crossed his arms and said nothing, but his expression told her that he’d make sure that she drank every drop of it. She took another swallow and grimaced. Ansel turned on the television with the remote, and tuned in to the Comedy Channel. Jeff Foxworthy was talking about his wife’s first hangover. Kiria groaned in commiseration, and Ansel smiled knowingly. It took her ten minutes to finally empty the glass, and surprisingly, she did feel better. The pain was fading away, and the lines of the room seemed straighter. Ansel pointed out the buttered toast with jelly, so Kiria picked it up to take a bite. She ate half of it while Foxworthy’s subjects ranged from hangovers to Superbowls to kite flying on the beach. Wiping her mouth and hands on a napkin, Kiria leaned back onto the pillows and put her hand on Ansel’s thigh. He looked down at her, turned the television off, took the tray back to the dresser, and lay down beside her.

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“Thank you so much, I feel a lot better,” she murmured into his neck. “Good. I hope your feet are better today.” “I went to the bathroom earlier, and they didn’t hurt much.” “I’ll look at them in a little while. We’ve got some talking to do.” Kiria felt a shiver of apprehension at his tone of voice. “I suppose I have some apologizing to do,” she suggested. “Not really.” “No?” “No. I don’t hold you responsible for what you did when you were drunk. If you ever get drunk again, I will, but this time was an accident.” “Thanks. Well, what did I do, besides having bad table manners and yelling at you?” “That’s about it. Except you told the whole family that you lost your virginity.” Kiria sat straight up in bed. “What?!” “Yep. You listed everything that happened to you since you got here, and left nothing out.” “Oh! I’m so sorry! What do they think of me now? This is terrible!” “Just that you’re the divine princess that can do no wrong, and I’m the evil villain who took away your innocence.” “No! Didn’t you tell them that I wanted you to make love to me?” Ansel gave her an incredulous look. “Honey, around here, it’s the man who makes the choices, and it’s the man who’s responsible for the outcome.” Kiria just stared at him for a moment. “It was my fault, anyway. I made the decision and you just followed along with it. Not that I regret it,” he grinned, “but now we have to make things right as soon as possible.” “What do you mean?” Kiria thought she knew, but didn’t want to say it.

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“I mean, we need to get married right away. It’s going to be a big disappointment to your mother, since she’s got her heart set on a big wedding.” “Oh… well, how long do we have?” “I’d say two weeks at the most.” “Not long enough to send out formal invitations or anything,” Kiria mused. “But, we could call everyone we want to invite. And we could plan a little reception or something to please my Mother.” Ansel smiled and pulled her down to hug her. “If it wasn’t for our parents, I’d be happy to just elope.” “Me, too,” Kiria hugged him back. And so, two weeks later on a cool Sunday morning, Ansel and Kiria were married in her mother’s church, in a long traditional ceremony, with a large reception at a local hotel’s ballroom. Kiria wore a beautiful cream and mauve wedding dress that had only needed slight alterations. Angela had spared no expense on the wedding, putting everything on credit until the house sold and she could pay it off. Andrew and Selina insisted on paying for as many things as Angela would allow them to, which wasn’t much. Nearly all of their relatives and friends attended, even with such short notice. It wasn’t every day that a local celebrity got married. Ansel and Kiria were both surprised at the number of friends they each had, since they’d been ignoring them all for several months now. Neither had known that the other had so many acquaintances. Kiria vowed that she would throw weekend parties at least once a month to make up for it. They stood in the reception line for an hour, and then danced for another hour amid the piles of wedding gifts. After throwing the garter and bouquet, Kiria’s feet were aching in the unfamiliar heels, and her head was pounding with pain. As she smiled wearily at her guests, Ansel suddenly scooped her up into his arms

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and began to carry her out of the room, making their farewells for her. “It’s all over now,” he murmured for her ears alone, and she giggled in relief, waving good-bye to those they passed. “We’ll be alone soon, and you can get off your feet.” And then, thought Kiria, then they would make love again. It had been two weeks since their one day of wild sex, and she couldn’t wait to feel him inside her again. She hadn’t even been to Ansel’s house, having caved in to her mother’s request that she stay at home for the short time remaining before she married. Ansel carried her to the waiting limousine, placing her gently on its soft leather seat as the guests poured outside to pelt them with confetti. He slid in beside her and they rode away, waving out the back window to the crowd. They’d both agreed to postpone the honeymoon until summer, but Ansel was taking the next week off from filming. “Mrs. White,” said Ansel, grinning, and Kiria rolled her eyes at him. “Come here, Mrs. White.” She melted into his arms, realizing for the first time that she really was Mrs. White now, that he was her husband, and that she was his wife. “You’ve promised to obey me, Mrs. White,” he teased. “Yes? And your point is?” “You haven’t had a spanking in two weeks.”

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Chapter Nineteen

“That’s because I’ve been such a good girl.” “I think you need one now.” “Here? I don’t think so!” “We’ve got a whole fifteen minutes. What else are we going to do with all that time?” “Let’s have sex.” She grinned. Ansel sighed and opened up the wet bar. “How about champagne?” “I don’t want to get drunk.” “Mrs. White, drinking is a skill you learn by experience. You can have one or two drinks and then you stop. That way you don’t get drunk.” Ansel popped the cork and poured out two glasses of the bubbly stuff. “Well, Mr. White, what’s the point of drinking, then?” “It’ll give you some energy, because believe me, you’re going to need it.” Kiria laughed and took a glass from him. They’d toasted with grape juice at the reception, but they toasted again now, linking arms and sipping from one glass and then the other. It seemed only a few minutes had passed before they were pulling into his long drive. Kiria sat up and stretched, feeling a wonderful sense of well-being. “Mrs. White?” Ansel held out his hand to her, and she slid across the seat. With one swoop of his arm, he picked her up and carried her into the house. She looked around in surprise as Ansel set her down on her feet. The bobcat was gone and the

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foyer had been repainted in a soft gold tone. A cherry wood and glass console gleamed along one wall. She went into the living room; the hardwood floor had been buffed to a glowing shine, and there were new oriental carpets in shades of blue and cream. The leather couches were gone, and two cream colored overstuffed couches with large pillows surrounded a cherry wood and glass coffee table. There were new lamps and end tables, and curtains, and… Ansel broke the silence. “My parents got your preferences from Angela—she gave them the catalogs you used to circle things in. It’s our wedding gift from them. They didn’t think you should have to live in a bachelor’s décor.” “Oh, my God!” squealed Kiria, finally finding her voice. “I can’t believe it! It’s beautiful! Oh, but I hope they didn’t change the kitchen—I love your kitchen!” Kiria ran from the room and was happy to see that nothing was new in there. “Well, it was remodeled just six months ago,” Ansel reminded her, and then took her hand to guide her back to the front of the house. One guestroom had been converted into a den, and Kiria laughed to see the bobcat peering from one corner. A massive mahogany desk took up one side of the room, and gleaming wood paneling covered the walls. One of the brown leather couches was along another wall, and potted plants blended serenely with the polished woodwork. Beige plush carpeting covered the floor. “This is your den, I assume?” “You know it’s ours, honey, but I did want at least one masculine room to hide out in now and then.” Kiria hugged his neck and then rushed out to see the other guest room. She stopped short i n the doorway. The ceiling had been raised and skylights installed. The windows were replaced with sliding glass doors looking out over a garden of stone pebbles and plants. The carpet was gone, and the

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floor looked like cheap linoleum. There was nothing in the room, except a wall of built-in wooden shelves. Kiria looked askance at Ansel. “Your studio,” he said, beaming proudly as she squealed and jumped into his arms, hugging his neck and wrapping her legs around his hips. “Darn, girl, you’re going to choke me,” he laughed, hugging her back. The last guest room hadn’t been changed, and Kiria held her breath as they walked back toward the master bedroom, wondering what awaited her there. She really had liked Ansel’s blue bedroom, and hoped they hadn’t done too much to it. Upon seeing it, however, she changed her mind. A new king-size bed dominated the room, with mahogany posts rising to a canopy of light blue silk. A dark blue velvet comforter was strewn with red rose petals. The room looked a bit smaller, and she discovered that the old closet had been removed, and a large walk-in dressing room had been added. There were built-in shelves along every wall, and about thirty feet of hanging space. “Geez, I’ll never fill this up,” she laughingly exclaimed. The bathroom had a new cabinet, with a marble counter and two separate sinks, but the octagonal tub and shower remained. Kiria didn’t know how to express her excitement and pleasure, and ended up crying in Ansel’s arms. “I’m sorry, I’m just so happy!” she explained, but Ansel shushed her. “It’s okay, Mrs. White, you’re almost making me cry, too.” Kiria laughed, grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter, and blotted her eyes. Her make-up was coming off. Stepping back into the bedroom, she impulsively threw herself down on the bed amidst the rose petals. “Did you do this?” she asked, raking them up with her fingers and throwing them into the air. “Yes,” he admitted, “I thought you might like it.” With a seductive smile, he lowered himself to lie

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just above her, looking down into her golden eyes. “Remember when we first met?” Kiria blushed and smiled. “As soon as I got over your trespassing onto my property, I remember thinking how you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. The sun was shining on your hair, and it was glowing like… like gold.” Kiria smiled up at him, trying not to laugh at his awkward attempt at flattery. He gave her a quick kiss and sat up beside her, his gaze perusing her from head to toe. “But you’re even more beautiful now.” She sat up and contemplated his handsome form, giving him the same scrutiny he’d given her. “And you’re the most gorgeous hunk of meat I’ve ever seen,” she giggled, and he frowned back in mock annoyance. “Look, I’m trying to make this romantic, and you’re messing it all up,” he complained. “Oh, sorry, well then, you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” she giggled again. With a wry smile, he jumped up from the bed and loosened his bowtie. “I’m going to go get more champagne.” Kiria lay back on the bed to wait, kicking off her shoes and sighing in relief as she flexed her toes. A hot bath would be wonderful right now, she thought. As if reading her mind, Ansel returned with the champagne and two glasses, and then went into the bathroom and turned on the water. Kiria smiled as she watched him expertly uncork the champagne and pour it. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, they toasted again with happy smiles. Then their lips met, and Kiria forgot all about everything except how much she wanted him inside her again. Ansel unpinned her veil, letting loose the long tendrils of her hair, which fell in soft waves to her mid-back. He stood her up and spent several minutes undoing the long row of pearl buttons in back.

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“Do they make this so hard for a reason?” he muttered halfway through. Kiria giggled. “I don’t know.” Finally he got the last one undone, and then helped her pull it up over her head, laying it over the armchair by the window. Next was the wideboned silk skirt over a ruffled slip, and then she stood before him in only her bra, panties, garter belt, and stockings. Ansel took his bowtie and jacket off, and Kiria unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his broad chest. Holding the sides of his shirt, she laid her head against his heart while he unfastened her bra and let it drop to the floor. Even though he’d seen her naked before, Kiria still felt shy, and covered her breasts with her arms as he stepped back to undo his belt. “Put your arms down,” he told her with a wink and a smile. “No,” she teased, shaking her head and looking up at him through her lashes. Ansel pulled his belt from the loops with one swift move, and doubled it up as she backed away, laughing softly. With one eyebrow raised, he snapped the belt between his hands and stepped toward her. “Are you sure you want to be disobedient?” his eyes belied the seriousness of his tone, but Kiria smiled and slowly lowered her arms, standing straight up to face him. “No,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper. “I’d rather—” She didn’t finish the sentence as Ansel dropped the belt and pulled her to him, his lips pressing against hers, his tongue probing against her teeth. “I want you to do everything I say over the next few hours,” he murmured against her lips. “Why?” “Just let me control everything. All you have to do is relax and obey…” “All right,” she agreed, not quite knowing why, except that it felt good.

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Ansel stroked her breasts, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. Then he quickly stripped her panties, garter, and stockings down, picked her up, and carried her to the bathroom, depositing her into the almost-full tub. “Put your hair up.” He handed her a ponytail from a drawer. Kiria tied her hair into a loose bun on top of her head. Then she pulled her knees to her chest and watched as Ansel took the rest of his clothes off and stepped in to sit beside her. He already had a huge erection, its head protruding above the water line. Kiria giggled, not sure why it struck her as funny. “Wash me,” he said, picking up a bar of soap and handing it to her. She smiled and began with his shoulders, and then his back, massaging and rubbing until she’d covered everything but his privates. “There, too,” he instructed, getting up on his knees while she cautiously soaped his shaft and testicles, rolling them around in her hands. When he sat down to rinse off, she realized that she no longer felt shy about their nakedness, having touched every part of him over the past ten minutes. Ansel gave her a quick kiss and stood up, pulling her with him. “Your turn,” he said, guiding her toward the wall and placing her hands above her head. “Don’t move until I’m done.” Kiria closed her eyes, letting the sensations flood her mind. Her body relaxed in pleasure as he rubbed and soaped her from neck to toe. She put her hands against the wall. “Spank me,” she whispered, pushing her bottom out as his soapy hand ran across it. “Not yet,” he replied, his voice low and husky. “I’m running the show, remember?” “Okay.” She smiled and pressed her face to the cool tiles. His fingers now moved between her thighs and stroked her while she shivered in response. Then he pulled up the drain plug, turned

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on the hand-held shower, and began to rinse her off, pausing on her breasts and between her legs until she wanted to impale herself on his still-erect cock that kept brushing against her. “Close your eyes, now, tightly.” The sensual pleasure then dissipated as he began to scrub her face with a soapy washcloth. Kiria wrinkled up her nose and tried to push his hands away. “Stop!” she protested, but then quickly closed her mouth to keep the soap out. “Mmmmph!” she squealed, still struggling to get away, but Ansel held her in place until he was satisfied that every trace of the make-up was gone. A quick rinse with the showerhead, and a towel was thrust into her hands. Kiria dried her eyes and peered into the mirror across from them, relieved to see that no mascara marks remained. Then she was enveloped in another towel. Ansel briskly rubbed her down, and then himself as they stepped out of the tub. “Now,” he dropped the towel and pulled her close. “You’re going to pay for fighting me while I washed your face.” “What?” she grinned and pushed her hands against his chest, but he held her firmly in place. “You said you’d do everything I say tonight. Now just relax and trust me.” Kiria smiled and put her arms up around his neck. Pulling the ponytail from her hair, Ansel ran his hands through its length, straightening the silky strands until they fell softly down her back. He sat down on the edge of the tub and pulled her down across his lap. Her fingernails raked the plush new carpet as he positioned her bottom higher up and began to gently rub her cheeks. One hand reached down to stroke her breast, while the other nudged her legs apart and brushed against her. He played with her for several minutes, lulling her into complete relaxation, but when he pulled her hip toward him, she knew what was coming.

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“You will learn to obey me, won’t you?” His hand hit her right cheek hard, and she gasped. “Yes, sir!” He began to spank her hard and fast, and it was more than she’d expected, but not more than she could tolerate. The rhythmic smacks echoed loudly in the large bathroom, sounding much harsher than they felt. Kiria held fast to the carpet and tried to stay still, but he was now concentrating on her upper thighs, and it was beginning to really hurt. “Please,” she moaned. He stopped, rubbing the sting out with his hand. She started to get up, but he held her down firmly. “We’re not done, yet.” Again, his hand peppered her bottom with firm slaps that increased in intensity until she started to try to wiggle away. He stopped and caressed her swollen bud , sending a warm flood of desire throughout her groin. She could feel his hard-on against her thigh, and the thought of it inside her made her want to disobey and jump on him right then. “Please, Ansel, let’s go make love,” she turned to look up at him, but he only smiled. “Not yet…” Another volley fell upon her already burning cheeks, sending their heat forward into her groin. Kiria relaxed and gave in to the sensations, accepting the sting of one hand along with the caresses of the other. She didn’t know how long it continued; it seemed like an hour, but she no longer had any real sense of time. He never hit hard enough to make her cry, and the longer he spanked her, the hotter she felt. Every time she was close to climaxing, he seemed to know it instinctively, and would stop before she could come. Finally, he pulled her up onto her knees and hugged her as she buried her face in his neck. “What have you learned just now?” he asked, lightly stroking the acutely sensitive, tingling skin of her buttocks.

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“I… I should trust you?” she whispered tremulously, arms about his shoulders. “Yes. What else?” “Um… you can make me feel wonderful.” “That’s good. What else?” “I don’t know,” she hugged him harder. “You need to be spanked.” “I do?” “You need it… you need it every day, and I intend to see that you get it.” “Okay.” Kiria didn’t argue—he was stroking her clitoris again. Her bottom glowed with heat, and she felt almost ready to explode with pleasure. His cock rubbed against her breasts, warm and hard. She let go of his neck to encircle it with both hands, reveling in its velvety texture. Ansel slid his hands up to her breasts, gently pinching and pulling, making her nipples throb almost painfully. “You’ve been very good,” he said soothingly, “Do you want it as much as I do right now?” “Yes!” she whispered, “More than you! No one could want it more than me right now!” With a quiet chuckle, he abruptly stood, pulling her up with him. Leading her to the bed, he yanked the comforter off. They both fell upon the satin bridal sheets, lips meeting clumsily, arms enfolding, and then he was inside her, stretching her, reaching parts of her she hadn’t known were there. Nothing existed but the raw physical sensation of him plunging into her repeatedly until they came together in a fiery rush of gratification. “We can’t kill each other doing this, can we?” Kiria muttered, some time later, as they lay intertwined and exhausted. “No,” laughed Ansel, “but it’ll be fun trying.” Kiria stretched away from him onto her stomach, luxuriating in the sensations of the silky sheets. “Mmmm,” she moaned, “I love these sheets… It’s a good thing I’m not going to bleed on them.”

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“You’re so romantic.” Kiria hit him on the arm. “I haven’t had much practice, you know.” “Easily remedied.” “How do you practice being romantic?” “You devote all of your time to pleasing me.” She hit him again. “One more time and your ass is grass.” “Like it hurts you.” “It’s annoying. Like a little fly that keeps buzzing around… Ouch!” He easily pinned her down and spanked her cheeks bright pink as she laughed and struggled beneath him. “Why resist? You know you wanted it,” he goaded. “I thought you were kidding!” With one quick move, he flipped her back over and kissed her. “I never make empty threats. Besides, that last one hurt. You’ve got sharp little knuckles.” Kiria held out her hand and scrutinized it. She made a fist and held it to his nose. “Be afraid. Be very afraid.” Ansel laughed loudly for several long moments before he replied, “Jeff Goldblum said it better.” “But I gave it more meaning,” Kiria told him solemnly, still looking at her knuckles. By the time she had gone to the bathroom, put on a robe, and come back again, Ansel had almost stopped laughing. It occurred to her as she stared down at his weakened, helpless state, that all she had to do in future to get the upper hand was make him laugh too hard.

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Chapter Twenty

He did recover quickly though, she thought, as he caught his breath and sat up. “Come here.” He smiled broadly, patting the bed beside him. Kiria put her head down, tilted it, looked up at him through her lashes, and bit her fingernail. “Why?” “Do I need a reason?” “Yes.” She backed up a step. Ansel smiled. “Forgotten your vows so soon?” “Yes.” She smiled back. “Need a reminder?” “Yes.” She nodded vigorously. “Come here.” He smiled and patted the bed again. Kiria put her head down, tilted it, looked up at him through her lashes, and bit her fingernail. “Why?” She burst out laughing at his exasperated expression, and then ran from the room. She stopped in the kitchen. Figuring it would take him a least a minute to pull some clothing on, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice. A split-second later, he grabbed her from behind, trapping both arms in a bear hug. The juice carton went ‘ thunk’ onto the floor, wobbled, and fell onto its side. They both stared at the growing orange puddle. “I’m not cleaning it up ,” Kiria said complacently. “Shit,” said Ansel, letting her go to scoop up the carton.

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“Whoa!” she exclaimed, taking it from him. “You cursed!” She got two glasses from the cupboard and turned to watch while he mopped up the mess with paper towels. “I’ve never heard you say that word before.” Ansel stood up, wet towels in hand, silent for once as he contemplated that. There was a tinge of red at the tops of his ears. “The appropriate occasion hadn’t arisen until now.” With a wide grin, Kiria turned back to pour the juice. It was four days before they emerged from the house, driven only by the need for groceries and trash bags. Eight meals, delivered by various restaurants, had depleted their supply of the latter. Ansel, hungry for a home-cooked meal, had proclaimed that it was time Kiria learned to cook… “Why do I need to know how?” Kiria teased him. “You know how.” “Sometimes I get home late, and if you’re not with me, I don’t want you to starve while waiting for me.” He gave her a complacent smile. “I can always order out.” “Not for at least a month. I’ve already told you, I’m tired of eating out.” “Well, I’m not. And you can make something whenever you get here. You don’t have to worry about me.” He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly against him. “You will learn to cook. You will cook for both of us. You will like it.” When Kiria opened her mouth to protest, he kissed her hard, making her forget what she was going to say. “Now, let’s go get groceries,” he insisted, turning her around, and as soon as she tried to talk again, he pressed his lips firmly to hers. His tongue followed soon after, which quickly progressed to sex on the kitchen table…

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Now she sat in silence as Ansel drove the Jeep down the driveway. Kiria turned on the radio and punched up the volume and bass. After a few moments, Ansel turned down the volume. “What?” asked Kiria, blinking at him. “Nothing,” he replied. “I thought you wanted to say something; you turned it down.” “No, I just wanted to be able to think.” “You don’t like loud music?” Her tone was incredulous. “Sometimes, but not while I’m driving.” “But, we always play it loud!” Kiria sat up straight and faced him. “I know. I was being indulgent. But now, I’m not.” “That’s not fair! You never said you didn’t like it!” “I’m sorry! It just didn’t bother me that much, but right now it does.” “What else have you pretended to like?” Kiria asked angrily. She crossed her arms and slumped back down in her seat. Ansel steered the vehicle to the side of the road and put the gearshift in park. Uh oh, thought Kiria. He turned to face her, but she continued to look straight ahead, lower lip protruding. “You haven’t had a real spanking since that night that Miriam left you stranded on the mountain, have you?” his stern tone sent a shiver down her spine. “I’m mad at you,” she muttered, ignoring the question. “That’s obvious.” “And you know you’re wrong, so I don’t know why you’re acting like I did something.” “What you’re doing is juvenile and rude, which is why I suggested a spanking. Why don’t you sit up and converse like an adult instead of sulking like a two-year-old?”

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Kiria looked up at him in surprise. He cocked an eyebrow at her. She hated it when he was right. Swallowing hard, she sat up straight and turned to him. “Okay. I’m sorry. I need to grow up, huh?” The corner of his mouth twitched, but he kept a straight face and nodded. “I’m angry because I feel like you tricked me by pretending you liked loud music all this time.” Her tone was calm. “But I’m not really angry anymore, I’m just… sad, I guess.” He nodded again. “Everything’s changing too fast.” Ansel reached over, unclipped her seat belt, and pulled her into his arms. “I want things to stay the same,” she sighed. “It’s okay, honey,” he rubbed her back. “Things will always change, but we’ll always love each other, and you can act like a two-year-old sometimes, and then I’ll spank you sometimes, and that’ll never change, I promise.” Kiria giggled. “It’s my fault. I forgot to spank you the last few days.” Kiria giggled again. “All I could think about was sex.” Fighting back an urge to fondle him, Kiria sat up and smiled. “Me, too.” “And food. Let’s go.” He put the Jeep into drive and turned to look for traffic before pulling out onto the road again. After a minute or two of silence, he turned the radio on loud and grinned at her. “I guess I could get used to this,” he yelled above the booming bass. After parking at the grocery store and turning off the engine, he said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and the loud music is the only thing I pretended to like. I’m sorry for that.” Kiria gave him her brilliant smile. “That’s okay. I pretended to like your cooking.” She saw a flicker of

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surprise in his eyes before he grinned and then laughed out loud. “Now you’re lying. When we get home, I want you naked in the bedroom corner, waiting for your punishment.” “Does that mean you’re going to put up all the groceries?” “After we put up the groceries, I want you naked in the bedroom corner, waiting for your punishment.” “What’re you going to do while I’m waiting, then?” “I’m going to cut a switch from a tree. Lying is a serious offense.” “Yes, sir.” A tremor of apprehension ran across her stomach, but she knew he was kidding. Later, though, as they played out his fantasy, she found out that he had gotten the switch. But instead of whipping her, he lightly drew it up and down her body, tickling her in some places and making her moan in pleasure in others. ______________ They spent the next two days making love, playspanking, and cooking tons of food. By Saturday night, Kiria felt so overloaded with sensory pleasures that all she wanted to do was sit in the living room and watch TV. Dinner was over, the dishes were all in the dishwasher, and Ansel was opening a bottle of wine in the kitchen. “No, thanks,” she told him when he brought her a glass. “I ate so much of that lobster sauce, I can’t absorb another thing.” She patted her stomach. “I think I’m getting fat.” “Mrs. White, you’ve burned off way more calories than you’ve eaten this week.” He grinned and winked at her. “Seriously, Ansel, I’m stuffed! I can hardly move.”

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Ansel put the wine glasses down on the coffee table and sat down next to her. He put one arm around her shoulder and absently rubbed her stomach with the other. “Some day, I’ll be rubbing a baby in there,” he smiled. Kiria jumped up, knocking over one of the wine glasses. “Baby! Don’t even think of babies yet!” “I’m not cleaning that up,” Ansel said calmly, still relaxed on the sofa. Kiria flounced out of the room and returned with a roll of paper towels. “This is your fault,” she complained, sopping up the red liquid. “Honestly, suggesting we have a baby already! You’ve just got me cooking, and next you’ll probably want me to do the laundry!” Her hair swung back and forth, reminding Ansel of a soft, flowing stream of water. “I didn’t say we should have a baby now, I said some day. And what’s wrong with doing laundry?” “I hate laundry, and don’t change the subject! It’s way too early to even be thinking about having babies.” “Excuse me?” Ansel sat up straight. “Did you just tell me not to change the subject?” Still annoyed by baby thoughts, Kiria nodded vigorously. “Yes! We were arguing about babies and you want to talk about laundry! There’s a huge difference, there.” Oblivious to Ansel’s growing annoyance, Kiria picked up the last of the wet towels and stomped out to the kitchen, still talking loudly. “Like, babies are alive, and they cry, and they poop in their diapers! You have to pick them up, and feed them, and change them, and listen to them yell! All laundry does is sit around until you wash it. Hey! They both need to be cleaned! There is a similarity! I guess you didn’t change the subject!” “Kiria, you brought up laundry first, not me,” she heard him call back to her.

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“No, I didn’t! And I won’t do laundry, and you can’t make me! And I’m not ready to have baby yet, so don’t bring that up for at least another five years!” she yelled back. Kiria hurled the paper towels into the garbage, turned abruptly, and ran into a wall of hard muscle. “Oof.” She looked up into smoldering blue eyes and felt an immediate spasm in her groin. “I don’t like your tone of voice.” Ansel moved forward, backing her up to the wall. He put both hands on either side of her, his face close, his breath warm against her ear. “The feeling’s mutual,” she muttered, then added, “I’m sorry. I got carried away.” “I would never speak to you like that. All full of sarcasm, like… like nagging.” Kiria winced. “Nagging? I don’t want to sound like I’m nagging.” “Good.” He leaned closer and kissed her. Her senses tingled with the smell of sweet wine and Ansel. “Now, go stand in the corner in the bedroom until I come in.” Kiria felt so bad about her loud tirade that she didn’t even try to argue. “Yes, sir.” She waited for him to move out of the way, and then hurried out of the kitchen. Did he want her to be naked? He hadn’t said so, so she simply walked to the corner and waited. Her loud, sarcastic words still rang in her head, and she felt truly ashamed of herself. What would she be doing now, if they didn’t have this odd agreement between them? Would she still be nagging and yelling at him? Would he have been so angry that he left, driving off and spinning his tires? The characters in movies did things like that. Suddenly she wished she’d had a father, and had seen the real dynamics between husband and wife. What if Ansel had been so angry that he’d yelled back at her, or had thrown something? It was really a good thing that they had this way of resolving their problems.

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She changed her mind when Ansel came into the room, ten minutes later. She heard him go into the bathroom, come back out, and sit down on the bed. Hearing the distinct slap of a hairbrush against his hand, her bottom tingled with the unwelcome knowledge of her fate. “Come here,” he said. She turned to look at him. Sensuality exuded from his handsome features as his blue eyes held hers in solemn regard. A ripple of desire coursed through her, surprising in its intensity. She felt her face flush and wondered if he could sense her reaction, as she watched the firm line of his lips soften. It was really a damn shame that he was intent on blistering her bottom instead of making love to her. Wait a minute… Kiria ran her hand through her hair, knowing how much that one move affected him. She approached him slowly, unsnapping her jeans and pulling her shirt up over her head, making sure to toss her hair over her shoulders to brush across her breasts. A few feet from him, she turned and bent over, sliding her jeans down her hips and slowly pulling them off, one leg at a time. She heard a stifled groan, and, encouraged, she unhooked her bra before turning back around. She had him. His pupils were dilated and there was a definite bulge beneath his shorts. Kiria leaned her head back and pushed her breasts together with her hands, rubbing the already-hard nipples against each other. The hairbrush slid to the floor. Ansel stood up, stripped off his shorts and shirt, and pulled her to him. “You’re cruel,” he murmured into her hair, running it through his fingers. Dropping down on his knees, he eagerly put his mouth to one breast. Kiria moaned and slid her hands across his wide shoulders as his teeth lightly nipped her. “You’re incorrigible.” He took her nipple into his hot mouth as she pressed up against him in pleasure.

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“Mmmm-hmmm,” she sighed. “You’re malicious, Mrs. White.” “Okay, Mr. Thesaurus,” Kiria breathed. Ansel laughed softly. She kicked the hairbrush under the bed before they fell upon it. An hour later, Kiria lay soaking in the tub, surrounded by bubbles, while Ansel showered a few feet away. “Don’t think that’ll ever work again,” he called over the noise of the water. Kiria smiled and said nothing. She didn’t intend to earn a punishment anytime soon, and he’d forget to be wary by then. The daily spankings had been fun, and they made her hot and wet, but punishments—it had been so long since he’d punished her—but she’d never forget how much it hurt. She would be as good as gold from now on.

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Chapter Twenty-One

They went back to work together the next day. Ansel and Ted couldn’t agree on how a scene should be shot, so Kiria spent all morning sitting around waiting while they argued good-humoredly. Kevin and Bill mostly walked around and smoked cigarettes until Kiria found herself asking for one. The first draw made her feel a bit dizzy, and she realized she hadn’t smoked in probably a month. The second one felt good. Savoring each inhalation thereafter, she blew smoke rings into the cool, crisp air. The trees were now bare, and she could see all the way to the house, which was nearly a mile away. Footsteps crunched through the leaves, and she turned to see Ansel coming up to her left. He looked angry. “Do I need to call Smokey the Bear?” he snapped at her. “Well, I was bored, and the camera guys are smoking,” she rationalized, flicking ashes off the tip. “They’re only smoking over there, out of the leaves.” “Oh. Well, I’m not gonna start a fire or anything.” She flicked her ashes again, this time into her hand. Quick as a flash, Ansel plucked the cigarette from her fingers and walked off with it. Kiria started to follow him, but then stopped and simply glared at his back. It just wasn’t worth it. Ted called out lunch break then, and several crewmen went to their cars to get the lunches they’d packed. Kiria suddenly remembered Ansel asking her to get their lunch out of the refrigerator

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just before they’d left the house. He’d made sandwiches the night before, packing them into a small, soft-sided cooler with chips and drinks. She’d have to go back to the house and get it. After a quick explanation to Ansel, she got the keys to the Jeep and left. He kissed her firmly on the lips and asked her to brush her teeth when she got to the house. Knowing he didn’t like the smell of cigarette smoke, she agreed with a smile. Kiria got the mail and let herself in the front door. After vigorously brushing her teeth, she sat down to sort through the various junk mail and bills. Her mother had forwarded several letters, and she reminded herself to put in a change of address at the post office. She stuffed them into a kitchen drawer. Then she got the cooler out of the refrigerator and left the house. As she opened the door to the Jeep, she heard sirens in the distance, wailing up from the valley. She waited for two fire trucks to pass before pulling out onto the highway, and then her stomach lurched as she saw them turn down the long dirt road that led to the higher meadows. Her gaze jumped ahead, and sure enough, clouds of smoke billowed up from a grass fire near the shoot. “Damn!” she yelled, slamming her fists down onto the steering wheel. She jerked her arms back up, knocking the rear-view mirror askew. The Jeep veered slightly to the left, and she got back into her lane. “Damn!” she yelled again, incredulous at her own stupidity. “I’ve fucking set the meadow on fire! Shit! Damn! Son-of-a-bitch!” Pulling sharply to the side of the road, she threw the gearshift into park, and put the emergency flashers on. “Oh, my God! Ansel is going to kill me! Oh, my God!” Finally at a loss for words, she sat and listened to her heart pounding for a while. Then, with grim determination, she made a u-turn and drove slowly back to the house. It wouldn’t do any good for her to go up there and witness the dismal

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desecration of irreplaceable wilderness. It would be best to wait at home for the inevitable. She pulled into the drive and parked the Jeep. Maybe Ansel would be reasonable by the time he got home. Maybe the fire would only destroy a small area… Shit, maybe it would destroy the whole mountain, house included! Suddenly she had to know its progress! Grabbing up Ansel’s binoculars that were always stashed in the console, she jumped out of the Jeep, ran to the back of the house, and got the ladder out of the shed. Scrambling up it, she hurried to the roof’s peak, looked out toward the filming site, and nearly fell over with relief. The smoke cloud had almost dissipated, and several firemen stood around it, none of them moving around much. One man was spraying back and forth with a hose, probably making sure that it was all out. Kiria slowly made her way back to the ladder and climbed down, tears streaming down her cheeks. Even though she was glad there wasn’t much damage, she knew without a doubt that the honeymoon was over. The only thing worse than a forest fire, in Ansel’s eyes, was outright murder. If she survived whatever punishment he deemed appropriate, he’d probably never let her go up there again. She let herself back into the house and wandered through each room, idly musing upon the best place to hide for the next week. The phone rang as she entered the kitchen again, and she unthinkingly picked it up. “Hello?” “Kiria, where the hell is our lunch?” Shit! She hung up. Did he think she didn’t know she’d set the meadow on fire? Why was he worried about lunch, of all things? The phone rang again, startling her into smacking her elbow into the doorframe. Her funny bone tingled in pain. On the fifth ring, she cautiously picked it up.

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“Kiria! Are you okay?” She said nothing, preferring his monologue to anything stupid she might blurt out. “Kiria, did you see the fire?” A long pause. “Talk to me.” “Y-yes,” It wasn’t much more than a whisper. “It wasn’t your fault.” “It wasn’t?” she fairly shouted, heart leaping in joy. “No. Ted dumped out the ashtray that the guys had used all day. Not being a smoker, it didn’t occur to him that sometimes filters smolder.” “Oh, thank God! You know, I thought it was me! I saw the fire trucks go by, and then I saw the fire, and then I just couldn’t make myself come up there, because I was sure it was my cigarette ashes that started it, and then I…” “Kiria,” Ansel interrupted. “Yes?” “Just bring the food up here, please? I’m starving.” “Oh! Okay, I’ll be right there!” She hung up and danced around the kitchen, hugging herself with relief. Then she ran outside, jumped into the Jeep, started it up, and then went back to lock the front door. It wasn’t her fault! Incredible. The crew spent the rest of the day kicking around ideas for the next day’s shoot, and ribbing Ted about the grass fire. By the time they all left, Kiria wanted nothing more than to go home and soak in the tub. Wearily climbing into the passenger seat, she waited while Ansel checked the charred patch of ground for any lingering embers. The firemen had soaked it with foam and assured them that there was no more danger, but Ansel wasn’t taking any chances. When he got into the driver’s seat, he glanced over at Kiria’s tired but happy expression, and smiled. “Long day, huh?”

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“Sorry. It was kind of an emotional rollercoaster.” “I wish I’d seen your reaction when you saw that fire,” he chuckled. Her smile vanished. “No, you don’t. It was pretty ugly.” “Oh, come on. Did you yell? Were you angry?” “Yeah.” “You must at least have said a curse word!” “No, I was almost crying, though.” Her stomach clenched at the lie, but she didn’t want him to know about her cursing. He gave her a dubious look. “Were you afraid?” “Of course! Wouldn’t you be, if you’d thought you’d started a forest fire?” “Yeah. I wish I could’ve let you know right away what had happened. We really need to get you a cell phone.” Ansel adjusted his seat and looked up to the rear-view mirror. “What happened to this?” he reached up and moved it back into position. “I think I hit it when I saw that fire.” She heard a low hiss from it. “What’s that?” she asked. “It’s the memo thing. You push the button here, and it records what you say. You push this button, and it plays it back.” “Damn!” the thing said, in Kiria’s voice. Ansel grinned ear-to-ear and looked over at Kiria, who sat spellbound in shock, eyes wide open and mouth agape. The memo recording continued, “I’ve fucking set the meadow on fire! Shit! Damn! Son-of-abitch!” The sound of tires squealing, the gearshift jamming into park, and then the click-click-clickclick of the flashers followed. “Oh, my God! Ansel is going to kill me! Oh, my God!” A few more seconds of the low hiss, and then it ended. Kiria put her hands over her burning ears as Ansel burst out into loud laughter. He laughed so hard that the Jeep shook. Every time he almost recovered, he’d take one look at Kiria’s mortified expression and lapse back into hysterical chortling.

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An hour later, Kiria ruefully stood in the corner of their bedroom, wondering at the vagaries of fate. How had she managed to hit the ‘record’ button when she’d knocked that mirror out of place? She couldn’t get away with anything around here. If only she hadn’t lied about the swearing, as he said he wouldn’t have punished her for that, considering the situation. It was the lie she’d told him… As soon as they arrived home, Ansel sent her to this corner. She stood there, nervously shifting her feet, waiting to find out what he was going to do. Finally, he came in, took her hand, and pulled her over to the bed. He bared her bottom, told her how disappointed he was that she’d lied to him, and proceeded to spank her with her hairbrush. He paddled her until she was sobbing and begging him to stop, and then he put her back in this corner and left the room again. Kiria rubbed her bottom and thought hard about leaving the corner. She was so tired, and bored as well. She wanted a long, hot bath so much that she almost dared to go and fill the tub. Her legs ached from standing so long in one place. Finally, she heard Ansel come into the room again. “Ansel, please, may I take a bath, now?” she asked. “No.” He sat down on the bed. “But, my legs ache, and I’m so tired.” “Kiria, I can’t believe you lied to me again. Do you think that paddling was all you deserve?” “All I deserve? It hurts like hell! I’m really sorry , and I won’t lie again, I promise!” “If you hadn’t been recorded, would you have told me you lied?” “I don’t know.” “You know how important it is to me that you tell me the truth.” “Yes, I know.” “Why didn’t you, then?”

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“Because I thought you’d punish me for swearing. Then, when you said that you wouldn’t, it was too late, because I’d already lied about it.” “So… in future, if you think I’m going to punish you for something, you’ll lie to get out of it?” Kiria sighed and shifted her feet again. “I don’t know.” “Maybe it’ll help if you know that I’ll punish you ten times worse for lying than for any other thing.” Kiria’s pulse began to race. “What’s the punishment for cursing?” “I’d probably have just spanked you, but nothing like the paddling I just gave you.” Several long moments of silence followed while Kiria tried to think of something to say. “Ansel…” “Yes?” “I understand what you’re telling me. I made a mistake by not telling you I’d said all those bad words. I know how much it means to you that I tell you the truth, and I love you, and I don’t want to hurt you, so I won’t lie to you again, no matter what I’ve done.” Ansel came over and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m ready for the rest of my punishment, now,” she sighed, leaning into him. “I really wish I didn’t have to do this,” he said softly into her ear. “I’d rather just forget the whole thing, but if I don’t do it, then I’m afraid you won’t believe me the next time.” “I know,” she whispered, running her hand across his wide forearm. “Please, let’s get it over with. I’m so tired.” Ansel led her back to the bed, pulled his belt off, and placed a pillow on the edge of the bed. With trembling hands, Kiria slid her pants down and lay over the pillow. The belt slapped both cheeks at once, making her yelp. When Kiria began to cry, it was more from

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guilt than pain. After twenty strokes, Ansel sat down and pulled her into his arms. “There’s more,” he said after her breathing returned to normal. Kiria said nothing and waited. “I want you to write, ‘I will not lie again,’ fivehundred times every day for a week. And I don’t ever want to see you smoking a cigarette again.” Kiria nodded, relieved that her tender bottom was spared any further punishment. ______________ Three days later, as she wrote the lines in her notebook again after dinner, she wished he’d just paddle her instead. He sat next to her on the couch, watching football, while she was bored to tears and her hand was starting to ache. Did one little lie deserve all this suffering? The more she wrote, the angrier she became, scribbling harder as her mutinous thoughts grew. Kiria finally put the notebook down, and Ansel glanced at her before picking it up to look through it. He’d already crossed off the pages she’d written the previous two nights. “You only have about three hundred here.” He put it down on the coffee table. “I know,” she agreed, her attention on the television. “But I don’t want to write anymore. You can just spank me, instead.” Ansel snapped off the television with the remote, but Kiria continued to stare at it, ignoring his stern glare. “Oh, I’ll spank you, all right,” he told her, “But you’re still going to finish writing.” Kiria glared back at him, and quickly found herself over his knees, staring at the floor. He pulled her robe up to her waist and blistered her bottom with fast, hard slaps that had her crying in only a minute. It was over as fast as it had started. He pulled her back up and held out the notebook to her. She took it with trembling hands and began to

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write again, sniffing and wiping her eyes on her robe sleeve. Ansel turned the television back on. When she put it down again, he picked it up, looked through it, crossed off the pages, and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said, brushing her hair from her face. “I didn’t want to spank you, but you are going to write those sentences like I told you to.” “Yes, sir,” she whispered, now wondering why she’d ever thought she could get out of something that Ansel had decreed would be done. Once he made up his mind about it, there was nothing she could do to change it. Well, sex had worked once, but she didn’t think he would fall for that again. She could count on his word as written in granite. She knew without a doubt that he’d never lie to her. It was comforting to know that, and as she watched the light from the television play on his features, she realized that he didn’t have the same assurance from her. With a pang of regret, she kissed his cheek and swore to herself she’d never lie to him again. She happily wrote out her lines over the next few days, smiling when she handed them to him to check. When the week was out, Kiria placed the notebook in her lingerie drawer as a reminder to herself. She’d see it every day, and she’d keep her promise this time.

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Chapter Twenty-Two

A few weeks later, Angela signed a contract on the house, which estimated her profit at nearly ninety thousand dollars. The sale closed in only two weeks, enabling her to pay off all of her credit card bills. She rented out an apartment downtown, and Ansel and Kiria helped her move. Kiria nearly cried as she said good-bye for the last time, to the home she’d grown up in. The new apartment had two bedrooms and baths, formal dining and living areas, and a huge gourmet kitchen. New furniture replaced most of the old, but Kiria balked when Angela began eyeing her old dresser, and finally Ansel loaded it into the back of the Jeep and brought it home to be used for her art supplies. Kiria began inviting her old girlfriends and their husbands to the house for weekend dinners, encouraging Ansel to do the same. Before long, they had a group of six or seven couples who all seemed to enjoy each other’s company. Kiria went through Ansel’s cookbooks and learned to make fancy canapés and desserts, while Ansel made most of the main dishes. One Saturday afternoon, as Ansel searched the kitchen for a missing spatula, he opened a drawer stuffed full of unopened letters. With growing amazement, he realized that they were all bills from various credit companies, addressed to Kiria, and forwarded from Angela. They’d been married for nearly two months now, and she’d never mentioned any personal debt

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to him. Wiping his hands on a dish towel, he went to find her. ______________ Kiria brushed on another layer of mascara, blinking into the bathroom mirror at herself. “Kiria.” She turned at the sound of his voice to see him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes solemn. Uh oh. What could she possibly have done, now? “I want you to see something,” he told her, and walked out, clearly expecting her to follow. Kiria hastily wiped the bathroom counter with a towel and tossed it into the clothes hamper. She’d been trying her best to be as neat and tidy as he was, but it was a losing battle. Not that he’d said anything to her about it, but she felt that it was coming, and this was probably it. Taking a deep breath, she went out to look for him. Ansel opened the drawer full of her mail. “Explain.” “Oh.” She felt a surge of unease. “I keep forgetting to put in a change of address at the post office. I’ll do it first thing Monday morning.” She smiled, but his expression didn’t change. “What?” “Kiria, the fact that you haven’t forwarded your mail, thereby causing your mother to hand-write your address onto all these letters, isn’t the point here.” “No?” Kiria tried to guess what else it could be. “Did you need that drawer for something else? Should I ask before using any drawers in here?” Ansel looked like he wanted to spank her right that second, and she took a step back involuntarily. “Kiria! These are bills! They’re from credit companies! Why haven’t you told me you’re in debt?” Kiria stared at him in utter disbelief. “Told you what?”

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Ansel gathered up the letters and began to stack them up on the counter. “We’re married, in case you hadn’t noticed. My money is your money, and your money is mine, and all debts are ours. There wasn’t any prenuptial agreement. Don’t you think I should know about any outstanding bills you have?” Kiria stepped back again at his scathing sarcasm. “Excuse me? You’re angry because I didn’t give you my mail?” Her pulse raced at the thought, and she put her hands on her hips, trying to control her outrage. “Don’t misinterpret what I said! I said I should know about your debt, not that I wanted to read all of your mail!” “How much is the Jeep payment?” demanded Kiria, her tone now as angry as his. “It’s paid for!” “How much is the mortgage payment?” “Four thousand, three hundred and twenty two dollars a month!” Kiria was taken aback at this, but quickly recovered. “How much do you—I mean, we, owe on this property?” Ansel smiled. “About three hundred thousand, I think.” Kiria started to ask another question, but he put his finger to his lips and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry, baby. You’ve made your point.” He stepped back and regarded her at arm’s length. “I’m really proud of you. You didn’t yell at me, you didn’t cry, you weren’t rude; you just outsmarted me!” He beamed with pleasure, and Kiria melted into his arms. “I think it’s time we went over our finances.” “Yes,” agreed Kiria. “And, I really should have paid more attention to those bills. It’s just that all I can think about anymore is sex.” Ansel squeezed her buttocks and pressed against her groin. “Me, too.” Kiria felt him harden almost instantly, and her nipples tingled in response. He picked her up and

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carried her to the living room couch, where he introduced her to yet another sexual position that carried her to a blinding climax a short time later. ______________ The snow came early in November. Ansel and Kiria filmed an episode about identifying and tracking wild animals in the snow. Kiria played, as always, the naïve student of nature upon which Ansel tried to bestow some new knowledge. The first day of filming, Ansel eagerly led her to different tracks in the snow, asked her to guess what creature had made them, and then explained to the audience why Kiria’s answer was wrong. By late morning, she had begun to guess most of them correctly, so he then asked her to guess whether the creature had been moving fast or slow. They were presently looking at rabbit tracks. “Um… slow?” guessed Kiria. “Very good! If it had been running, then the hind feet would land to either side or ahead of the front feet, instead of spaced apart, as these are.” Kiria walked over to another set of tracks closer to the river. “Are these dog tracks?” Ansel followed her. “Red fox,” he said, grinning happily. “See how small the pad of the foot is? Dogs have larger pads. Was he walking, or running?” “Walking. They’re pretty evenly spaced.” “That’s right. Four-footed animals move hind left leg and front right leg together, and then hind right leg and front left leg together. This diagonal way of walking is balanced, since there’s always support on both sides of the body. A child who’s learned to crawl uses the same diagonal walk of a quadruped.” “Oh.” Kiria began to wonder if he’d memorized the nature guides word for word. “Look at all the squirrel tracks here.” Ansel approached a large oak tree. “Bet there’s a nest up there.” He craned his neck to see, and Kiria had a sudden urge to hit him with a snowball. Not on

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camera, she told herself, but the longer he looked, the greater the urge became. Finally, she bent down, scooped up a soft mass of poorly packed snow, and let it fly. His reaction was hardly surprising, considering the wet powder had struck him fully on his right cheek. “Kiria!” he sputtered, hastily wiping off the snow. “I ought to spank you for that!” Kiria’s giggling stopped instantly, and the cameraman turned to catch her flushed expression of shock. “You and whose army?” she finally managed to retort, but he had made his own snowball by then, and she turned too late to run. It caught her right in the forehead, and a full-fledged fight ensued, both parties laughing uproariously, and ending with Kiria hiding behind the oak tree for protection. “You’re going to cut that section out, right?” Ansel said to Ted, who stood by laughing. “Maybe. Maybe not. Have to see how it looks at the studio.” They broke for lunch then, thawing out in the camper with hot cocoa and soup. When Ansel and Ted began talking shop, Kiria went outside and looked around for more tracks. She wandered into a meadow, but nothing marred the smooth, glistening surface of the snow. Idly, she bent down and pressed three fingers together an inch deep, and then four separated fingers above that mark. Trying not to giggle, she made a series of tracks with a wild pattern for about twenty feet along the forest’s edge, masking her own prints in the leaves, and ending them at a large bush. Then she returned to the camper and waited for the others to emerge. “I found some new tracks!” she exclaimed, and Ansel mistook her grinning laughter for excitement. “Great! Where are they?” “Over here in this meadow.” Kiria led the way as the cameraman quickly mounted his equipment on his shoulder and followed along.

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Ansel studied the prints closely for about five minutes while Kiria fought an intense battle with herself for sobriety. She managed to keep a straight face no matter how perplexed Ansel’s expression became. “I’ve never seen anything quite like these,” he told the camera. “They look like a housecat, because they’re small and have no claw marks, but the gait pattern is like a three-legged rabbit.” “I know what it is,” Kiria stated with confidence. Ansel gave her a dubious look. “You do?” “Yes. It’s pretty obvious to me,” she announced, now condescending. “Well, if you can figure it out, then I know I can…” he stood back and looked at the prints, rubbing his chin in thought. “You won’t,” she taunted. Glaring at her, he again inspected the prints up close. “All right then, what are they?” he finally demanded in annoyance, forgetting the camera’s presence. She smiled smugly and bent down to demonstrate her technique. “They’re human.” The camera zoomed in to show that the prints matched exactly. Ted’s laughter could be heard above Kiria’s giggling, but Ansel merely stared dumbly at the identical track sets. When Kiria looked up at him, he gave her a slow smile. “You got me good, I have to admit.” Recognizing the warning in his tone, she tried to stay off camera for the rest of the shoot. Ansel found and explained different bird tracks for the rest of the day, eventually regaining his former good mood when Ted insisted that Kiria interact in some clips. While the crew packed up, Kiria stood next to Ted, stomping her feet to keep them warm. “I guess your ass is grass when Ansel gets you home,” Ted’s remark caught her by surprise; even

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though she knew he’d seen her get spanked once before. “Oh, no, Ansel can take a joke,” she protested, smiling in embarrassment. A quick glance around showed her Ansel was heading toward the Jeep to warm it up. “Kiria, you made him look a fool on his own show.” “But it was just a joke. You laughed!” “Well, tell him I’m cutting that scene, and maybe he’ll go easy on you.” “Oh, for goodness’ sake! Why would you cut it? It was funny—everyone laughed!” “Ansel has an image to uphold. The snowball fight was okay, but misleading him into analyzing false prints… it just doesn’t help the show, that’s all.” Kiria shrugged with false unconcern. “Okay, Ted, I’ll tell him. But don’t worry about me; I’m not going to get in trouble for it.” Ted just smiled and waved good-bye as Ansel drove up and she got into the Jeep. Ansel was quiet all the way home. Kiria got out first, unlocked the front door, and headed for the bathroom. Her feet were numb from the cold. Filling the tub with hot water and foaming crystals, she stripped and eased into it. A few minutes later, she heard the bedroom door shut loudly. Ignoring a tremor of unease, she told herself that Ted was wrong about Ansel wanting revenge. All she’d done was mislead him into… uh oh. Surely, he wouldn’t interpret it as a lie? Hearing Ansel moving about the bedroom, she sunk lower beneath the water’s warm, bubbly surface. A knock at the bathroom door startled her. “I’m taking a bath,” she called out. “Good. I’ve heard that wet spankings hurt more,” came Ansel’s calm reply. “What?” Kiria’s heart began to race. “Why do you want to spank me?”

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“For making me look like an idiot on camera.” “Ansel, Ted said he was cutting that section out! It was just a joke, anyway!” “I’ll be in there in a few minutes, and you’d better still be wet.” “But, Ansel!” Kiria heard the bedroom door shut then, and she was left with nothing to do but miserably contemplate the imminent spanking . ______________ It wasn’t long before Ansel knocked on the door again. “I’m coming in.” He walked in, still wearing his outdoor clothing. Leaning nonchalantly against the cabinet, he admired Kiria’s sleek form for a moment. The bubbles were fading fast, fully revealing her breasts. It was hard to play the role he had in mind, when all he really wanted to do was join her in the tub. “If you do everything I say, I’ll go easier on you,” he told her, keeping his tone stern. She looked up at him then, her golden eyes full of trepidation. With a trembling lower lip, she slowly nodded her understanding. “Drain the tub.” He watched her pull up the plug and sit up, hugging her knees to her chest. “Stand up and face the wall, hands above your head.” She slowly obeyed, rising with her back to him and turning to the wall. The water continued to drain, its gurgling drowning out the sound of her quick breathing, but he could see her chest rise and fall rapidly. “Press your breasts against the wall.” She did so with a whimper at its cold surface. “Spread your legs.” “Oh, please, Ansel…” she protested, but he encouraged her with a loud slap to her right buttock. “Further.” Now she was spread-eagled, her bottom jutting out nicely, its round globes quivering

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in anticipation. Ansel wanted nothing more than to push his rapidly swelling cock between them, but he steeled himself to his plan. “I know you enjoyed fooling me with those tracks you made.” Ansel carefully kept his tone stern and unyielding. “But you made me look bad in front of the crew, and the director, and now you’re going to pay for that.” He waited for her inevitable argument, but she said nothing. Ansel went to the bathroom door and picked up the crop he’d laid on the floor outside the door. “Close your eyes and keep them shut,” he told her. He began to stroke her gently with the crop, up the sides of her legs, over her buttocks, and across her shoulders. The water finished draining and all that could be heard was her ragged breathing. Ansel put the crop down on the bathroom counter. “Since you’re being so good, I’ll give you a warm-up first. Bend over more.” He watched in satisfaction as she obeyed, her still -wet buttocks now within his reach. Placing one hand on her stomach, he began to spank her lightly with his other hand. He increased the strength and pace slowly, watching the smooth skin turn dusky pink. “Stay still,” he warned as she began to squirm around. He moved his hand down from her stomach, reaching between her legs. He felt the hot wetness there—she moaned long and low, and he stopped. Picking up the crop, he again stroked her dark pink cheeks with it. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and husky. She whimpered and her legs began to tremble. “Yes, sir,” she whispered. “Keep your eyes closed,” he reminded her, and stepped back, enjoying the view. He could see her swollen clitoris nestled between her equally enlarged lips. Ansel smiled to himself and quietly walked to the bathroom door, retrieving the full bucket of ice water he’d left there.

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A blood-curdling scream broke the silence moments later. Kiria whipped around, eyes flashing and nipples taught as she shivered in icy shock. Ansel laughed and retreated to the bathroom door, leaving her with one parting remark, “Now, we’re even.” ______________ Ted cut the scene as promised, but he kept the snowball fight in, and the show’s ratings soared when the episode was broadcast a week later. He clipped an article from a local gossip column, which honed in on Ansel’s filmed threat to spank Kiria, and gave it to Ansel, who smiled and shook his head. Ansel’s fan mail tripled a few days later, and Kiria was glad that it all went to the studio, and not into their little mailbox for her to sort. Kiria went out to do the grocery shopping, while Ansel watched his favorite college football team on television. Not that she minded watching football with Ansel, but she thought she’d give him a break from explaining all the plays to her. When she arrived back home, Ansel came out to help bring in the food. “I heard you drive up,” he said, as she turned off engine. “I didn’t think you could hear anything over a football game,” she joked. Her stomach gave a little flip when she saw that he wasn’t smiling. “Turn the car back on,” he said. Gazing at him warily, she turned the ignition. The car started right up. “Hear that clicking noise?” he asked. She nodded. “That means your car’s low on oil. When’s the last time you had it checked?” “Um…” her heart began to race. How could she have forgotten to do that? Especially since that awful spanking the last time this issue had come up.

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“I thought so. I’ll be right back.” She watched him go into the garage and come back out with two quarts of oil. “Turn it off and come here,” he called to her. Ansel showed her how to check the oil and how to add it to the engine. The clicking sound stopped. “Let’s get these groceries inside,” he said. Kiria fought off the urge to cry, as they unloaded the trunk and put the cold items up. She knew her butt was in for a blistering. As she began to take canned goods out of a bag, Ansel came up behind her and put one hand over hers. “What kind of husband would I be if I let you drive an unsafe car?” he said, sending a tingle down her spine. “A nice one?” she suggested, earning a hard slap to her right buttock. “Go to the bedroom and wait for me.” “But, Ansel, I didn’t even know how to check the oil until you just showed me!” “Are you saying you’ve never pulled into a fullservice station and asked to have your oil checked?” “Um…” It would be so easy to lie now, and say she’d never done that. But she had, many times before, when she was a teenager. Her mother had drilled it into her repeatedly, when she’d gotten her first car. “No. I’ve done that before.” “So, you just forgot to do it, right?” “Yes, sir.” “Go to our room.” Kiria knew that this meant standing in the corner, naked except for a nightgown that barely covered her buttocks. With a sigh of resignation, she turned and left, shuffling her feet reluctantly. It didn’t take him long to decide on a punishment, she thought , as he strode into the bedroom just a few minutes later. With a stern expression, he motioned for her to come to him, and she obeyed without hesitation. He sat down on the bed, patting the space next to him. This was

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different, she thought, as he reached for her hand and held it tightly. “Kiria, you know I don’t really want to do this.” “Good, then let’s not do it,” she quipped, but he didn’t even crack a smile. “We’ve been over this before, though, and you know how serious I am about you doing anything unsafe.” Kiria nodded, feeling her cheeks flush with shame. “I love you, honey, and I’ll do anything to keep you safe, even if it means causing you pain.” Tears welled up in her eyes. She did nothing to stop them. “I’m sorry I have to do this,” he told her. He got up and came back with the hairbrush. Kiria lay over his lap as soon as he sat down, now crying in earnest. He rubbed her bare bottom for a few moments before he began. There was no warm-up, just a hard, fast paddling that had her kicking up her feet and squealing in pain as he lectured her further on the importance of maintaining one’s car. It didn’t last very long, to her surprise, and he pulled her up into his arms to cry it out. After her tears subsided, he told her to call all of their friends and cancel dinner. “Cancel dinner?” she dumbly repeated, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “You’re going to be busy. I want you to get online, research what can happen when a car runs too low on oil, and write a two-thousand word essay on it.” “What?” Kiria stared at him in astonishment. “It’ll be a good way for you to understand why car maintenance is so important.” “But, Ansel,” Kiria objected, and quick as a flash, she was over his knees again, squirming and yelling beneath the sharp slaps of the hairbrush. “Okay! Please! I’ll do it! I won’t argue! Pleeeeaaase!” He let her go, and she jumped up,

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hurried to the bathroom, and blotted her face with a handful of tissues. “Phone. Now.” Ansel stood in the doorway, arms crossed and lips firmly set. “Okay, I just need a minute to think… what do you want me to tell them?” “You can’t lie, of course. Just say it’s personal issues; don’t give them details. They’ll all understand.” Kiria had her doubts, but did exactly as he’d directed. It took her three hours to research and write the paper he wanted, but when she’d finished, she knew she’d never forget to take care of her car again. It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford a new one, but she’d found out that low oil could cause the engine to freeze up, or throw a rod that could pierce the hood and even kill the driver! No wonder Ansel was so adamant on this. As they lay in bed together that night, Kiria felt closer to him than ever before. Just when she thought their love couldn’t possibly grow any stronger, it always did. Just when she thought Ansel had run out of ways to discipline her, he always found a new one. Just when she thought that their love-making couldn’t get any better, he did something new that made her every nerve ending explode with pleasure. She’d learned to cook, and to do laundry, and to manage a budget in only a few months. She’d learned how to tag snakes, go fly-fishing, and other outdoor things. And she’d learned to stop lying and be responsible for her own safety. Kiria smiled to herself in the darkened room, listening to Ansel’s deep breathing beside her. Her bottom was still tender, but not enough to be distracting—she slid her hand down his chest, across his flat abdomen, and down to his groin, where she stopped and stroked him gently. He rolled to face her, one hand unerringly finding her breast and the other her buttocks.

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She took the lead this time, riding him hard until he tensed in pleasure, calling out her name. She covered his lips with hers, feeling him pulse inside her. As her own incredible climax faded away minutes later, she fell asleep in his arms, certain that this time was the best it could ever get.

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