Finding Submission (Service & Submission Book 1) (7 page)

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Authors: Megan Michaels

Tags: #Contempory D/s Erotic Romance

BOOK: Finding Submission (Service & Submission Book 1)
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“Good girl. I know that wasn’t easy. Do you think you can remember that the consequences for disobedience in this house are painful?”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll remember.” Avery nodded her head, looking truly sincere.

“Okay. You have one more task.” He extended the spoon to her. “Please grab this spoon and wash your spanking off of it. Put it in the drying rack when you’re done.”

Avery’s eyes widened and then she furrowed her eyebrows, scowling his way. She opened her mouth to argue. He wondered if she would fight the urge to argue this time. He loved her spunk, but it definitely needed to be reined in. He watched closely and saw when the defiant girl inside her lost. She snatched the spoon from his hand, and walked to the sink. She washed it silently and threw it into the rack with a lot of attitude and anger — they’d work on that another day. She turned with sparks in her eyes looking his way, waiting for… something. He wasn’t sure what she was hoping for.

Preston smiled at her. “Good girl. Now let’s show you around the house before you get yourself in trouble again.” He winked at her leaving the room knowing she would follow.

* * *

 

Preston brought her to his den first. “You’ve already seen the den. I’ve been trying to organize this room since I moved here. It’s almost done as far as I’m concerned. I’ve moved most of the antiques and collectibles into the formal living room which is across the hall.” He turned and pointed to the door behind them. “That is the formal living room. It’s a mess and will probably take you a week to organize — maybe more. However, I need you to dust the shelves and tables, vacuum the rug, and wash the windows in this den. This’ll be your first room to work on, starting tomorrow. I don’t want you touching my desk though. I have things organized the way I want. Any dusting that’s needed on the desk I’ll do myself. Is that clear?”

“Yes. Don’t touch the desk. Do you want me touching the books on the shelves? I can organize them by color. I know my father liked his books organized like that in his den.” She was walking toward his floor to ceiling bookshelves. He had quite an impressive collection of law books.

“Sure. That’d be very helpful. I just haven’t had time to organize anything. There are so many areas that need attention on the property.”

She turned, looking at the windows. They were a mess. It would take a couple washings at least to get the dirt and grime off that glass. “It looks like the previous owner liked to smoke in here. The windows are really dirty.”

“I haven’t a clue. I didn’t get to meet the owners. All I know about them I heard from the real estate agent. She said that they were both very old and weren’t healthy for a couple years before their children put them in a nursing home and sold the house.”

Preston sorted through some of his files and slipped a few of them into one of his desk drawers.

“I’ll make a list of things to be done every day. That way there’s no confusion on what the expectations are and no tasks will be forgotten.”

“Lucky me.” Avery rolled her eyes, following Preston out of the room.

She almost bumped into him when he stopped abruptly in the doorway.

“Attitude, Avery.
Attitude
. Keep it in check, please.”

She blushed at his reprimand.

“Very pretty blush. I’m thinking it probably matches the pretty tint of your bottom.”

He brushed his knuckles on her cheek. His head tilted and she wondered if he was visualizing the similarities between the blush on her face, and the one on her bottom.

Dropping his hand, he turned and walked into the formal living room. Avery followed close behind then stopped, her hand over her mouth, stunned at the disaster she saw before her. The room had furniture and antiques along every wall. There were pictures, knick knacks, vases, books, and other antiques on all the furniture. Some areas of the room had things piled three to four feet high.

How in the name of hell am I supposed to do something with this?

She dropped her hand long enough to say, “Oh. My. God. Are you fucking kidding me? This is going to take me the whole six months.”

Turning to look at the pile in the corner of the room, a swath of fire slashed across her backside, and she jumped, grabbing both cheeks with her hands.

“Ow! Oh, that hurt!”

She turned and felt tears fill her eyes as she looked at Preston.

“We won’t discuss language again. Am I clear, Avery?”

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.” She swiped at the tears that were threatening to fall from her lashes.

“You’ll find, little girl, that I’ll spank your naughty bottom as often as it needs it, regardless of how many times you’ve been paddled. Keep it in mind.” He then walked to the corner area that had elicited the colorful response — it was piled high with books and pictures. “I’ll help you with this room. I know it’s overwhelming to look at. On Saturdays, we’ll work together to organize it. I’ve been gathering any items or antiques that I don’t want in this room so we can organize a barn sale at some point. So, in the process of organizing and cleaning rooms, bring whatever you think doesn’t fit in that room down here. If it’s heavy though, leave it. In those cases, you’re to ask me to help you move it when I get home. You won’t carry heavy items down the stairs. I don’t want you hurt.”

“Okay. I’ll wait until you get home if it’s heavy. I promise.”

She smiled at him. He was actually very nice if you could get past the spanking part of him, which… was a big thing to get past at this point. Her bottom was smoldering under her panties. She was avoiding rubbing because she didn’t want him seeing her admitting to the pain. But when she was alone again, not only would she be looking at the damage, she would be rubbing it until the pain eased.

Preston put a hand to the small of her back, leading her out of the room and pointing upstairs. “There are four bedrooms upstairs and two bathrooms, those won’t be as hard to organize or clean. Let’s go outside and I can show you around the rest of the property.”

“But I only have a shirt on and no pants.” Avery pointed to her bare legs and looked up at him.

“You’re fine. My closest neighbor is two miles away. No one will see you, and if they do, that shirt’s probably longer than some of the dresses you wear. Am I correct?” He smiled mischievously at her. “You women amaze me. You wear bikinis that are smaller than your underwear, but panic if your underwear shows. And you wear dresses that show your lady bits if you so much as sneeze, but you won’t go outside in a t-shirt that’s down to your knees.”

“You sound like a grumpy old man, Mr. Harrison. How old are you again?” Avery giggled, enjoying the way his bearing stiffened at her teasing, the blush rising on his cheeks.

“You know very well that I’m thirty six. I’m not a grumpy old man — I’m a realist. And, since you’re so young and hip, you can take your hot little ass outside and I can show you the buildings.”

He patted her bottom affectionately and walked with her outside.

* * *

 

Preston chose to use the back door off the kitchen, leading Avery down the steps off the small back porch and making their way to the first building.

“This is the barn. It needs some work, but overall it’s not in bad shape at all.” He put his hand on one of the vertical support beams and patted it, looking around. “My goal is to get some horses for riding. I used to love riding horses as a kid — it’s so relaxing. Someday.”

He sighed, then continued. “But for the time being, we’ll use this barn for the estate sale, once we can organize it. I’ll set up tables and display areas. C’mon, I’ll show you some of the other buildings.”

He walked out of the barn, seemingly confident that she would follow him. Now that she had been spanked, she actually felt quite calm, even cooperative. She had his curiosity piqued; he was looking forward to learning more about Miss Avery.

Moving away from the barn, they turned right and continued to the next building on the property about fifty feet away, tucked away under some trees. The building was small with a little window that faced the pasture.

“And this building is the woodshed. This is where husbands and fathers in the early part of the century kept the wood for the fireplaces, their tool bench and tools. But it’s also where husbands and fathers administered discipline to naughty bottoms.” He turned around in the middle of the shed, watching Avery take in her surroundings with eyes wide, mouth open in awe.

“This is an actual woodshed? I’ve heard about them, but never actually been in one. Is this what I think it is?” She ran her trembling hand down the thickness of a large leather strop hanging on a hook on the back of the door.

Preston walked up to her, making sure he was close enough to smell her hair and whispered the question in her ear. “What do you think that is, sweetheart?”

“Uhm… a razor strop?” She tried to move away from him, but Preston successfully caged her, placing a big hand on the wall at either side of her.

“Mmmm hmm. Correct. That was the ultimate implement for a naughty bottom, reserved for the worst infractions. If you received the razor strop it was for breaking the law, hurting another person, or hurting yourself. For example, stealing from a house and getting arrested would warrant a session with a razor strop.”

Preston raised his eyebrows and looked at her grimly.

“Y-you can’t be… y-you wouldn’t… are you g-going to… I don’t want that to… ”

Preston watched her quickly let go of the strop and saw the pulse in her neck increase, her breathing becoming fast and shallow.

“Shhhhhhh. Breathe, sweetheart.” Preston stroked his finger on her jaw line, lightly cupping the back of her neck with his hand. “You’re not receiving the strop tonight. You’re paying for your sins by cleaning my house, remember? However, make sure you don’t break the law or injure yourself or others while you’re here — no leaving the property alone, no drinking to excess, no drugs, and no stealing. A session with a razor strop isn’t easily forgotten and makes sitting difficult for days.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience. Have you ever been stropped, Preston?”

“I’ve had a session or two with one. Believe me when I tell you it’s to be avoided at all costs.” Preston smiled. “Maybe I need to hang it on a nail in the kitchen as a reminder.”

“A reminder? For me, or for you Preston?”

Avery, the little flirt, raised her eyebrows and giggled at him. His cock jumped at the sound of her laughter. When she walked by him, laughing, the scent of soap and strawberries wafted over him. To him, nothing compared with the smell of a clean woman.

“You naughty minx. It would be a reminder for you. And that bench in front of you there” Preston pointed to a low sitting bench with an uncomfortable back to it. “They called that the ‘waiting bench’ back in the late 1800s. They were used in railroad stations mainly, but if one was in a woodshed like this one, it had one purpose. It’d be where a naughty bottom would be told to sit while waiting for a spanking. Now that I think about it, that bench may look better and prove to be more useful in my den – for say, the next six months.” Preston laughed, picking it up and going out the door with it. Again, he was confident that she was right behind him.

“You wouldn’t dare. Would you? No! You wouldn’t put me on that little bench, would you?” She was right behind him, wringing her hands together, giving the bench an evil glare then turning her pleading eyes back to him.

He slapped the dust and grime off his hands, securing the latch on the door to the woodshed. “Well, I wasn’t so sure until you dared me. Now the answer is most definitely,
yes
. Yes, Ms. Avery — ‘Attitude Avery’ — if your naughty bottom requires it, you’ll sit with your bare bottom on the cold wood, waiting in a corner for your chastisement. You’ll learn to not dare me, little one.”

Now it was his turn to walk away laughing. His cock was hard just thinking about her sitting with a bare bottom on the waiting bench he was now holding in his arms.

“Wait! We didn’t see that building!”

Avery walked quickly toward him, pointing to the building next to the woodshed. It was bigger than the woodshed, and the construction was much newer. It was made of cedar and had green shutters with several windows that were covered with dark shades. It had a heavy wooden door with metal hinges and a padlock on it.

“What’s in that building? How come you aren’t showing me what’s in there?”

“That building is private. It’s locked and only I have a key. You don’t belong in that one.” He stopped, turning to fix her with a look, “You’ll promise me — right now — that you’ll stay away from that room. You’re forbidden from even trying to enter that building. Am I being clear?”

“Wow. What the hell is in there?”

She stopped abruptly in front of him when he narrowed his eyes at her, putting his hands on his hips and leaning toward her menacingly.

“Okay, okay,” she said, quickly. “I promise. I won’t go near it. Sheesh! Calm down!”

“Attitude, Avery. Watch your attitude.”

He turned, walking toward the house, Avery following and watching him with curiosity. It was imperative that she not go near that building. She wasn’t ready to see it and he knew it would scare her. In due time he would show her, but he needed to secure her trust first.

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