In the Service of the Wolf (part xxii)



Part I here

Garrick knew that Marsha was strong; more than that she was born with the lupine curse and at least that had some benefits. Ultimately she would bounce back from almost anything that didn’t kill her; not that he intended to go quite that far. In his time he had given a few human women the same treatment without any dire consequences. Not that you would think from the fuss this warrior woman was making, he sighed inwardly. He gritted his teeth and scrutinised her bottom for any real distress. Most of his kind could handle pain too and they healed damn fast. If he held back he risked wasting his time.

Marsha’s bottom was a smooth deep red and was bordered at the curves by firm but gentle standout welts. Shiny enough to shave in, as his Pa used to say after he had whaled on the tail end of one of his sisters. The shaving reference back then was a pun on the strop he used.

“Are you howling for the pack to come running?” Garrick addressed the tender bare bottom still uppermost across the trestle. “I ain’t hardly started,” he added in a tone that suggested genuine puzzlement.

“No Sir, sorry sir,” Marsh panted, “It’s just that,” she drew a breath edging to a sob, “It has been a while.”

“Too long maybe,” Garrick mused and drew back his arm and with an unerring aim brought leather cracking across bottom.

Marsha tried to regulate her heavy breathing, her open mouth hidden under hair in the middle of a wet face. “Maybe,” she sniffed.

Garrick wasn’t convinced at this implied contrition. She sounded somewhat surly if anything. He lashed the leather down again and then taking a half step backwards he brought the spanking strap up and under her bottom to burn her right where she once day hoped to sit.

Marsh screamed.

“Instead of making a fuss you ought to be telling me exactly why I am having to tan your tail,” Garrick scolded her.

Marsha grit her teeth in annoyance and frustration. Damn him, she thought, I am too old to get a licking like a little kid.

“Nothing to say?” Garrick pressed her.

She remained silent.

In response he powered in the strap again and again, making sure to cross the split bottom, top, right and centre. Adding another couple to the under curves where the bottom and thighs met and most often came into contact with a chair.

Marsha broke her silence with a shout and then growled angrily as she rode out the burn.

“Let me tell you how this is going to play out,” Garrick said paternally. “I mean there are options and I can be a bit of an old fart, so you might want to go another way. But I think I am going to tan your hind end for a good while and you are going to wish the gods hadn’t given you a bottom. You are probably going to continue to play dumb and get your hackles all up while you glower into the floor thinking this is so unfair. You going to think what a bastard I am. How am I doing?”

Marsha was panting hard and wished she could think of something neutral to say.

“Eventually Augusta will drop by and watch a while. Finally she will suggest I leave off for now and take you into the house for some of her motherly TLC. Maybe some rubbing alcohol, maybe goose grease. My Ma favoured mustard mixed with olive oil; happy days,” he paused before continuing, “Then instead of supper she will have you facing the wall with your strides around your ankles where everyone can see. Then for the next few days, a week maybe, you will be on laundry duty or some other shit shovelling chores. Finally she will take you in hand and either send you back to me for a further little chat or take you over her knee for a good long talking to. Either way you will end back here answering the same damn question: why am I so pissed at you?”

Marsha drew a deep breath and then let it out in a long mournful wail ending in a true sob. She was crying and properly too.

“Give me strength,” he groaned, “You just want me to send you to Augusta now? Most of the men don’t get a choice, but you can stand down from the crew if you want.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Marsha sobbed, “I screwed up, I should have… I shouldn’t have…”

“Should, shouldn’t, you did it, you made a call,” he bent low and tried to see her face as he spoke. “Why did you let them out?”

“I thought… I thought I would get into trouble if I didn’t,” she sobbed, “I didn’t know what to do.”

Garrick nodded. “You think you’re in trouble for letting them out?” he sighed.

Marsha cried on for a bit and then took a deep breath. If letting them out hadn’t been wrong then… she racked her brains.

Garrick waited. “Letting them out was a good call,” he said at last. “I probably would have tanned your tail for it anyway, but maybe not if you had faced me down and taken responsibility.”

“I was too chicken shit either way wasn’t I?” Marsha sniffed from somewhere under the cascade of long blonde hair that fell over her upturned face.

“Finally,” Garrick sighed, “I just wish you hadn’t needed cue cards.”

“I feel kind of dumb,” she offered. This time she sounded sorry.

“So what do we do now?” Garrick asked. “You want another chance?”

“Yes Sir, please don’t send me to Augusta. I am so sorry. I guess I need my butt leathered and good, I earned it. But…” Marsha sound confident now.

“I make it a rule to finish a punishment on a contrite bottom so we ain’t done yet,” he sighed.

“No Sir,” Marsha said ruefully.

“You’re a strong girl, two or three dozen and then you can face the wall for an hour or two,” Garrick told her.

“Yes Sir,” Marsha said bravely.

“You think that should be a time-out inside or outside the barn?” Garrick asked as he lined up the leather.

“Outside I guess, with my pants and panties down,” she sounded if she was going to cry, “I know I deserve it.” She knew that she did.

“Right answer,” Garrick lashed her bottom and she yelled.

The second she was ready for and held herself to a grunt; her bottom was truly on fire and it was going to be a very long time before she was going to be able to sit down again.

Outside Alice and Stacy watched Marsha’s punishment in horrified fascination.

Alice was aroused and embarrassed that she was. She felt ashamed for her lack of compassion, but God help her she kept seeing John or Adam in Garrick’s place and her in the woman’s. Every time the strapping stopped and Garrick began to scold her, she almost prayed it would begin again.

Stacy’s reaction was more complex. Of course there was eroticism in the scene, she had been around, that was no biggie. The fact that Garrick’s intentions were almost entirely old world punitive and oblivious to the sexual side of this made it doubly so in her mind. But deep inside she felt something else and her own buttocks clenched in sympathy. Almost as if…

Inside the punishment finally ended.

“You’re done,” Garrick said.

“Yes Sir,” Marsha sobbed and got unsteadily to her feet.

“One hour nose to that wall,” Garrick said sternly, “You can stay in here until you are sent for.”

“Yes Sir,” Marsha sniffed, she could have kissed him for the small mercy. “I am sorry,” she added.

“I know,” Garrick smiled, “Be a good girl now,” and then he left.

Alice and Stacy watched him go and then gaped in amazement when the woman took hobbled steps to the barn wall and stood to face it.

“Oh my God, that’s priceless,” Stacy laughed out loud.

“We are in a mad house,” Alice said with distinctly less amusement.

To be continued.

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