I shivered, the soft breeze raising goose flesh on my arms. My body's reaction wasn't from the cold, however, but from the two imposing men standing before me, eyes filled with...something, as they took their time moving over every inch of me. They waited patiently, almost too patiently, like a rattlesnake, waiting for prey to move just the wrong way so they could strike. It was no use. I could not avoid it further. If I scurried away, they'd pounce most assuredly.
"Sarah," I murmured dejectedly. "Sarah Jenkins."
"Sarah Jenkins," the blond repeated, as if testing the word on his tongue. "I am Garrett Ericksson and this is my brother, Tagg."
"I heard of your father's passing. I'm sorry for your loss," Tagg murmured, his tone respectful.
My father didn't care for my stepmother, Devney, or me. He'd only married her to hide his love for another man. He'd been overprotective of both of us, confining us to the ranch to ensure his secret. I stopped attending school in town when I was twelve and had remained on the ranch ever since, learning from Devney and all the books that filled the vast library. Seven years of isolation. When my father died last week, I considered myself finally free of a man's control. But I'd been wrong. I would not weep for my father; I did not mourn him. Only the life that he'd kept from me.
"If no longer your father, whose protection are you under?" Tagg asked.
"I don't know what you mean," I replied sharply. I looked down at my legs, watched the droplets of water slide down, avoiding their gazes. I could see the dark straps of the harness clearly through the transparent shift.
"You can't live in Liberty and not be under a man's protection. The Jenkins Ranch is quite a spread. I'd worry for your stepmother's safety now that she's a widow. Devney's her name, right?" Garrett questioned.
I could only nod in confirmation. There were only so many people who lived in the area and my father was a prominent, albeit cantankerous, member of the community. Even though Devney and I hadn't step foot in town in years didn't mean people weren't familiar with us.
"Do you refuse to tell us who your protector is?"
I lifted my chin, looked Garrett in the eye. "I do."
He gave a decisive nod. "Very well. Then you will go over my knee and I will spank your ass red until you tell."
CHAPTER TWO
GARRETT
Sarah's eyes widened at my statement. It wasn't a threat. I intended to spank her into compliance. When we discovered her, sitting at the water's edge with her legs spread wide, her shift crumpled up about her waist as she worked frantically to free herself from the harness, our world had drastically changed. It was like she was a mythical water sprite, come to rest on the shore, her red hair in fiery contrast to her alabaster skin. When she'd glanced up at us in surprise, her green eyes flared, and her full lips fell open into an “O” that had me thinking of that same mouth rounded in a similar, yet wider, around my cock.
Standing, she didn't even reach my shoulders. She was so petite. At first glance, she could have been mistaken for a slip of a girl. But up close and with her shift completely transparent, it was more than clear she was all woman. Her hips were slim, her breasts a high, firm and small handful. Her erect nipples, dark pink and large, jutted out against the thin fabric that barely, and not very successfully, covered her. The fabric clung to the dark leather that covered her pussy, yet some of the blatant and bold red hair at the apex of her thighs peeked through. Even her legs, trim and muscled, were clearly defined.
Why was she here on our land? From her evasiveness and falsehoods - she was a terrible liar – we assumed she'd run away. There was no doubt she was under a man's protection; the harness spoke volumes for her situation. Sarah Jenkins. Holy hell. I'd heard of her, even remember seeing her when she was just a child, before her father had kept her isolated on his ranch. Her red hair had always set her apart. But that had been years ago. She'd been a child then, but no longer.
Even if I didn't know who she was, it was obvious she was from Liberty. Nowhere else did a man protect a woman's maidenhead by fashioning a leather belt with a strip that ran between a woman's legs covering her pussy. She'd been confused when I mentioned a dildo and a plug, a clear indication she most assuredly wasn't married. A wife from Liberty would be extremely familiar with both. A maiden would have nothing in her pussy or ass. Only once she was married and rightfully claimed did a husband fill her the way he saw fit.
Sarah didn't seem the least bit distraught by her father's death. Being confined to the ranch for all these years might not have been pleasant for her, but he'd protected her from everything. I could thank the man for that if he wasn't six feet under because here she was, just for Tagg and me.
Her protector was clearly nowhere about, therefore that role fell to Tagg and me by proxy. Once we removed the harness, and we'd have to soon, she'd belong to us. Practically naked as she was now, she already did. Her maidenhead may still be intact, but her virtue was not. Regardless, we needed the name of her protector to tell him of her whereabouts and to claim her properly. She would tell us. I'd spank it out of her, if required.
Glancing about, I found a boulder that would work perfectly for her spanking. Sitting down upon the hard surface, I patted my thigh. "Bring her over, brother."
Her eyes widened and her skin paled even further. As she shook her head, tangles of red hair caught on the damp skin of her back. "No! I don't want to."
"You don't have to want it," Tagg said, his voice gentle, even though his intent was clear as he took her arm. "All you have to do is answer our questions. And tell the truth when you do."
She shook her head vehemently. "No."
It was unclear if she was saying no to the spanking or to answering the questions. Neither “no” was acceptable. It was obvious, at least to both of us, that we would have our way. In this, and everything else. "Very well," Tagg replied.
He easily lifted her up into his arms, small as she was. Placing her over my knees was no hardship for him, even as she struggled against him. Spreading my hand across her lower back, seeing the firm globes of her ass clearly through her wet shift, was no hardship for me.
She wiggled and shifted, fighting my hold, which only made my cock rise beneath her belly. There was no reason to soothe her, not yet at least. Not until we had the answers we wanted. Nothing I could do would put her at ease except turning our backs and letting her run off. But based on her actions when we discovered her, the harness was a hindrance for her. She couldn't perform the most basic of bodily functions easily without it removed.
If we undid the lock at her lower back for her, it was an outright claiming on our part. Whoever put it on her did it for just such situations. Running away, however, changed that. She forced herself, albeit unknowingly, into our protection.
And so my hand came down on her ass with a resounding smack.
She bucked at the surprise of it. "Ow!" she cried, wriggling even more. "You can't do this to me!"