In the Service of the Wolf: Part V

17Aug18

Part I here

Alice was furious. It felt as if all eyes were on her and she almost left the diner. But she knew that would be running away and would have only made things worse. Instead she sat glowering at the table top and fidgeting with the ceramic tray that held the salt, pepper and ketchup. Everyone else in the room also seemed to be fixed on the tables in front of them, all ignoring her with a will.

That bastard, how dare he say that? The heat rose in her face and she supressed an angry exclamation that came out as a loud sigh.

“What can I get you ma’am?” Nancy said pleasantly.

Alice glared up at the waitress and snarled, “Who does he think he is?”

“Ah… Adam Stone, I knew him in high school, always the cold fish, but not always mean though. His brother is the nice one. Best stay away from them. Around here people generally get out of the Stone’s way. Always have.” Nancy felt uncomfortable talking about the Stones, everyone in town did. It was best to stay out of their business. “You want to order now?”

“I met so many guys who say shit like that, as if they would dare,” Alice said under her breath, more to herself than the waitress. She wasn’t really listening to Nancy just then.

“Oh Adam Stone would are all right, he’s done that and worse before now. In this town he would get away with it too. That’s why I suggested you move over here,” Nancy replied in a low voice. “Do you want more time before I take your order?”

The diner had returned to normal and no one was paying her any attention now, not even the Stone brothers. Alice composed herself.

“Coffee and a sandwich, cheese and ham salad, if you have it,” Alice sighed.

“Coming right up ma’am,” Nancy said breezily, happy to bring the conversation they were not having to an end.

Alice shot a glare at Adam Stone and pondered what the waitress had said. The man had just said he would spank her in front of half the town and apparently it was no idle threat. She felt her heart thumping in her chest and a churning in her tummy way beyond anything that such a comment should cause. After all guys came on to her all the time and had said much worse things than that. She usually just blew them off with a comeback.

“Mind if I join you?” an indolent voice broke her train of thought.

Alice looked up to see the scruffy young woman in the beret who had been sitting in the corner. She stood there with an arrogant slouch appraising the lawyer with her eyes.

“Couldn’t help see you had a run in with the twin princes,” Stacy snorted. “Names Stacy Dane, I am new around here too.” She held out a hand for a shake and when one wasn’t forthcoming she sat down in the opposite seat without waiting for an invitation. “What brings you to Pulver? You got business with the Stones?”

“That, Ms Dane, is my affair,” Alice said sharply, “What business are you in?”

“Stacy, just call me Stacy,” Stacy smiled. “Me… I’m a writer,” she waited for a reaction. “Freelance mostly, but I have worked for the Herald, the Times and the Post. I wrote American Vampires, you may have heard of it?”

“No,” Alice said firmly. This woman sounded like a flake.

Stacy shrugged and undeterred she said, “Notice anything strange about this town?”

Alice frowned, “Like what?”

Stacy rolled her lips into her mouth so that they disappeared. It was a habit gained in childhood and made her look froglike and pensive. Then she released her mouth with an audible pop and surrendered her lips to a wistful smile. She tilted her head to one side as if waiting.

Alice shrugged. “No, no I haven’t,” she said at last.

“You don’t think maybe people here are hiding something, the Stones for example?” Stacy said quietly.

Alice looked around. Apart from Adam, the people had been friendly and from where she sat it looked like anywhere in small town America. She shook her head.

“I have some simple, pretty routine business with Garrick Stone…” she stopped, so routine in fact that it would have been completed by now if he wasn’t so hard to approach.

“Yeah and how is that working out for you?” Stacy leaned in and asked conspiratorially. “See what I mean,” Stacy did the lip thing again.

“What can you tell me about the Stones?” Alice asked.

But just then Nancy returned with Alice’s order and both women sat back.

Alice sensed that any conversation around anything to do with the Stone family was not for public consumption so they waited until Nancy had set down the tray and asked if there was anything else they needed.

“No thank you,” Alice forced a smile and Nancy smiled back pleasantly and went away. “What is your interest in the Stones anyway? What was it you said you wrote, something about vampires?” she continued.

American Vampires,” Stacy said in a neutral voice and waited to see which way Alice would jump.

“Is that a novel?” Alice asked, from looks of Stacy she wasn’t exactly making money and for all she knew American Vampires could be just another self-published e-book read by one old lady and her cat.

“No,” Stacy said, her eyes still weighing Alice up.

“What are you then, some kind of supernatural writer?” Alice laughed, “Did you do one on ghosts?”

“I studied paranormal psychology at college and then did my master’s in journalism. My thesis was on supernatural TV investigations, you know, an exposé of sorts,” Stacy explained very carefully. “I thought I was going to get the inside junk on television fakery.”

“So, what happened?” Alice’s interest was piqued now.

“I saw… something and… well anyway, let us just say that no one was faking anything, not what I saw and heard anyway.” Stacy shuddered.

“Are you telling me ghosts are real?” Alice gaped. She didn’t believe, but having someone who wasn’t obviously crazy telling you they did was something else.

“I am not telling you anything, I try to stay away from shades and demons. But the point is…” Stacy paused. “I wrote a couple of articles and someone got in touch and asked me if I believed in vampires. Before my experience on the show I would have hung up. But there was something about the tale I was told… anyway, I did some checking and went through all the usual debunking techniques… anyway, the rest in is in my book.”

Alice was smirking and took a sip of coffee to hide it. “So what is your interest in the Stone family? Are they vampires too?”

“No I don’t think so,” Stacy said seriously. “I was checking out some old Native American folklore and some real accounts of pioneers and… well there was a picture of some early settlers, pioneers from this town as a matter of fact. I was interviewing a woman who comes from here to see if I could get some gen… when she saw the picture she asked me how I had gotten a picture of old man Stone.”

“You mean Garrick?” Alice shrugged.

“Yeah,” Stacy drawled, “Only I already told you, these pictures were from the 19th century, they were of early pioneers.”

Alice laughed a little too loudly. “So you do think he is a vampire?”

Stacy hushed her and anxiously looked around. “No, I think he is something else entirely.”

“Well couldn’t he just be a ringer for his great grandfather or something?” Alice suggested.

“Maybe,” Stacy said unconvincingly, and then as if changing the subject she said, “Did you know that Jared Stone served in the US Marine Corp… during World War Two?”

“Who is Jared Stone?” Alice shrugged, “Garrick’s father?”

“His eldest son,” Stacy sat back and regarded Alice with her sternest gaze.

“So let me get this straight,” Alice was gaping at her new friend in astonishment, “You are saying that… that Garrick Stone is what, at least 120 years old?”

Stacy gave a quick shake of her head. “Apart from the picture I don’t have a thing on Garrick, but he may well be. I am saying that his son Jared Stone has been living in this town since at least 1920,” Stacy leaned forward and poked the table with her finger.

“So he is Garrick’s elder brother… you just mixed him up with…” Alice wasn’t taking this in.

“Have you seen Jared Stone?” Stacy said sharply.

Alice made a face and shook her head.

“He doesn’t look a day over 40,” Stacy said pointedly.

*

Melanie sat on the bed feeling sorry for herself. Occasionally she would throw a glance into the mirror and wince. Why had she thought such a drastic haircut had been a good idea? Jared was right, they had a position to uphold and what amounted to a whim was not only a bit of mischief but a fairly serious breach of pack discipline.

With another look at the mirror she rolled her eyes in self-derision and sighed. What was she going to say to Jared? She thought about toughing it out and standing on her rights. Oh you’ll be standing alright girl, she thought ruefully. She rehearsed an apology in her head.

Melanie was still running her excuses through her head when the door opened and Jared strolled in. The skip of her heart was more than just nerves and for a moment she regarded her husband with longing. In some parts he might pass for a rugged 30-something, his mane of dark hair framing strong features marred only by scar under his eye.

“Well?” he barked, his arms hanging loose like a hunter’s.

Melanie swallowed and answered him with a small shrug.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Jared pressed her sternly.

Damn the man, she thought and shook her head. As she did so she slowly gained her feet and began to remove her denims.

Getting his answer Jared crossed the room and grabbed three pillows from against the headboard and piled them in a pyramid on the bed. By the time he had completed the task Melanie was stepping out of her pants and was already working on her panties.

“Over and up,” he ordered as his hands flipped the buckle of his belt and he drew it through denim hoops.

His second wife sucked in air through her nose and unconsciously tugged at her shirt in front. Then with a sigh of resignation she clambered on to the bed and lay her hips across the pile of pillows.

“I said get it up,” he growled.

Melanie pressed her knees and thighs into the heap of Egyptian cotton and pushed her bare behind backwards and up. He bottom was round and taught now with million dollar curves. Only the pale sun-shy skin gave away its owner as a working woman.

“Oh God,” she breathed.

Satisfied, Jared drew the leather tight in his hands and lined up for a sweeping stroke. It came with skin tearing power that made his woman grunt. She had taken worse. All the same there was now a red swathe across both cheeks.

The steady thwack of his belt on bottom could be heard outside the room and Melanie blushed into the bedding. Tears pooled and then leaked onto the red cheeks of her face while her bare bottom went an even more vivid colour.

For the most part she was silent as the belt landed; only the occasional groan and her rapid breathing gave up her distress. But her backside was red raw now and the scarlet tones had darkened to dusky plum as rubber welts formed in the borders between spanked and unspanked flesh.

Finally she spluttered to a wail and the word “Jared” escaped her lips.

“I’m here,” he soothed, but the sweep of his belt was already telling that story.

Melanie started sobbing now, her bottom and shoulders bobbing up and down as she cried in earnest.

“I’m here,” Jared said again, but not once did his punishing arm stop or even slow in its work.

“I know, I know,” Melanie sobbed, “I’m sorry.”

To be continued



4 Responses to “In the Service of the Wolf: Part V”

  1. 1 e.e.norcod

    Boy, it is nice to have you back after a two year absence. You are one of the best writers in this genera. It is nice to read someone who can construct an extended thematic line.

    e.e. norcod

  2. 2 DJ

    Thank you _ good to be back😀

  3. 3 meganmichaels

    I’m LOVING this story—I posted it to my FB page Friday and I’m going to do it again. Bravo!! Very hot, and a great plot.


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