saddle on him before. She patted the stal ion, and talked softly to him as she fed him another sugar cube, then without giving it
another thought, she put her foot in the stirrup and mounted his
back in one fluid, graceful moment. Before she had time to get
her seat, the stallion bucked, and she went flying through the air, and landed face down a few inches from the fence. She rolled to
her back just as the stal ion reared, and Bridget raised her arm
protectively to block his hooves as he started to come down on
her. To her shocked relief, she felt herself being pulled under the wooden railing to safety by two strong arms.
In the next instant she was lifted clear off the ground and given a good shake. "Are you trying to kill yourself, little girl?" Flynn O’Riley demanded, his green eyes flaying her alive. "What the hell were you doing on that horse?"
"Now, Papa…" Bridget tried to soothe him.
"Don’t you ‘now, Papa’ me, girl," Flynn scolded, and Bridget was positive she’d never seen him so angry with her. "That there is the stal ion Will told me he’s breaking… Where the hell is that
husband of yours?" He asked, his eyes looking around for any
sign of the younger man.
"He’s not here, Papa," Bridget had to admit.
"Bridget, I’m gonna ask you once, and you’d better not lie to me, girl. What were you doin’ on that horse?"
Bridget swal owed hard, and tried to gently ease herself out of
her father’s painful grip, but he wasn’t having it. "Answer me right now," the words were sharp, and Bridget knew that she had no
choice but to tell him the truth.
"I wanted to try and break him as a surprise for Will," she explained, then forced herself to wince a bit. "I got the surprise, though," she admitted ruefully, hoping she looked and sounded pathetic, and that Flynn wouldn’t scold too much.
"Are you hurt anywhere?" Flynn asked gruffly, personally checking her for broken bones. He ran his hands up and down
her arms and over her rib cage looking for injuries, and was
relieved when there weren’t any.
"I’m fine, Papa. Honestly. Please don’t tell Will. He’ll be so mad at me!"
"I ain’t gonna tell him, little girl," Flynn agreed, and when she smiled in relief, he added, "You’re gonna tell him. And you’re gonna tell him why I whipped your butt, too."
"What?" Bridget backed up a couple steps, only to have her father grab her arm and pull her right back.
"I told you once that if I ever caught you tryin’ to bust horses, I’d tan your hide. Well I caught you, girl. And if I hadn’t caught you at it, you would’ve been trampled to death." He gave her a
shake, then said, "I’m pissed as hell at you, Bridget, and this time you ain’t gonna get out of the tanning you deserve."
"But, Papa! You can’t! I’m married now!" she protested as he pulled her toward the bench in front of the barn.
"Just because you’ve got a husband, don’t mean I’m not your Pa any longer," Flynn reasoned as he spotted a broken crate lying by the barn. He bent down and with one powerful yank, he pulled
one of the slats off. "This’ll do just fine," he announced.
"No, Papa. Please! I’m sorry, and I won’t ever do it again! I promise. I learned my lesson," Bridget pleaded, but Flynn was a determined man. She found herself across his lap, and both her
hands pinned to the small of her back. "This isn’t fair! You’ve never spanked me!" she screeched.
"Made me a mistake, little girl, but I’m gonna fix it right now," he replied, and brought the slat down with a painful crack across the seat of her pants.
"Ow!" Bridget wailed, kicking her legs. "Owwww!!!" her cries grew louder and more desperate as Flynn continued whacking
her defenseless bottom.
"I never want to see you on a wild horse again!" SPLATTT!!!!
SPLATTT!!!! SPLATTTT!!!!! SPLATTTT!!!!
"You won’t, Papa! Owwwww!"
SPLATTTTT!!!! SPLATTTTTTT!!!!! SPLATTTTT!!!!!!!
SPLATTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!
"I’m sorrrrryyyyyyyyy!!!! Papaaaaaaaaaaa…. Stop!!!!
Pleaseeeeeeeee!!! Owwwwwww!"
Flynn continued spanking until Bridget was lying limply over his
lap, and sobbing her heart out. He threw the slat down on the
crate, and then stood the redhead on her feet. "You take yourself in the house, and get out of them pants and into a dress. I’m
gonna unsaddle this horse, and then I’ll be in for a cup of coffee while we wait for Will to get home."
Bridget ran to the house, crying as if her heart would break. How
on earth was she ever going to face Will?
Chapter Nine
Will knew the minute he entered the kitchen that something was
wrong. Bridget had tears in her eyes when she murmured a
polite hello to his greeting. Flynn O’Riley’s facial expression
could only be termed "grim". "What’s wrong?" he asked in dread.
The father looked at the daughter, but neither of them replied.
Finally, Flynn sat his coffee cup on the table with a bang and
said, "Girl, I meant what I said. You’re going to tell Will what you done, and why I done what I did. I’m sitting right here to make
sure you tell it straight, too."
If anything, Flynn’s words seemed to upset Bridget more. Her
face was pink with embarrassment, and the tears were running
down over her cheeks. She kept trying to brush them away with
the backs of her hands, but that did nothing to stop the steady
flow. She made several attempts to speak, and when she finally
did, all she managed to say was, "Papa spanked me, Will!!!" In the next instant she was in his arms, crying against his shirt.
"Don’t you be looking at me like that, son!" Flynn scolded Will.
"The darn girl had it coming to her. Bridget, you start talking and right now… or else!"
Bridget kept her face buried in Will’s shirt, but managed to say, "I did something really stupid, Will. Papa saved my life, then he got mad and spanked me…"
"What did you do, honey?" Will asked in concern.
"I don’t want to tell you… You’re going to be angry…" she whispered.
"Damn right he’s going to be angry," Flynn muttered darkly.
"Damn little fool!" He shook his head. "Girl, I’m close to putting you over my knee again. You tell Will straight-up, and do it now."
"Bridget?" Will held her at arm’s length so that he could see her face. "What did you do?"
She bit her lower lip, and then blurted, "I tried to break the new stallion out in the corral. He was eating right out of my hand, and I wanted to do something worthwhile for a change… and so I put
a saddle on him… and he threw me." She watched as Will’s blue eyes turned dark with anger. "He would have trampled me if
Papa hadn’t pulled me out of the corral when he did." She
shuddered. "I’m sorry, Will, and I promise I won’t ever do it again," she pleaded. "Papa already spanked me," she reminded him, not fooled for one second by the look of intent in his eyes.
His face was set in angry lines of determination, and Bridget was
afraid she was in for another painful lesson.
"She’s had a damn fool idea to do this for years, son. I warned her I’d tan her if I ever caught her at it, but she had some notion that ‘cause she’s married, I couldn’t do it. Well, I did, and I’ll do it again if I so much as hear she’s tried it. And doing it when she
was here all alone… Only a fool little girl would do something
that stupid!" Flynn ranted. "And I thought you told her ‘no britches’, son?" he added as an afterthought.
Bridget wanted to sink through the floor when Will turned his
attention back to her. "You changed into p
ants to ride that
horse?" he asked succinctly. Bridget nodded guiltily. She could see the muscle twitch in her husband’s handsome face, and
realized that he was even more upset with her than her father
had been.
Bridget tried resisting when he pulled her along with him to the
drawer in the cupboard, and felt her eyes widen in fear when he
pulled out the large wooden butter paddle. In just a few seconds,
he’d pulled out a chair from the table, seated himself, and pulled her down over his lap. Without a thought for her modesty, Will
tossed up her skirts until al that was covering her was her thin
cotton drawers, and he brought the paddle down on her sore
bottom with a loud smack. Bridget cried out in pain, and
struggled to free herself, but Will easily held her and continued
paddling her until she was sobbing and begging for mercy. When
he finally stopped, it was to scold and lecture for several
minutes, and to insist that she apologize to her father for her
foolishness, and thank him for saving her life, and for giving her the spanking she so richly deserved.
Bridget thought he was finished when he put her on her feet, but
his next words belied that thought. "Go and change into your
pants, Mrs. Bishop, and come back out here."
"Nooo, Will! Please, I’m so sore already…" she begged to be let off.
"You know the rule, young lady. You wear pants; I set fire to the seat of them… each and every time. Go and change… now!" he
ordered.
Bridget fled for the privacy of the bedroom, crying as if her heart would break.
"Son, I used a stave from that broken crate in front of the barn,"
Flynn said quietly. "I reckon she was sore before you started."
"She’s going to be a lot sorer by the time I’m through, sir. If you want to leave, I’ll understand. I don’t enjoy hurting her, but I can’t be worrying about her every time she’s out of my sight, either. If you hadn’t come by here when you did, she would have died a
horrible, painful death. This punishment has to be severe enough
that she’ll remember it the next time she’s tempted to do
something foolish." Will felt sorry for the older man, but wasn’t surprised when Flynn squared his shoulders and nodded in
agreement.
"She scared me bad, son," he admitted hoarsely. "I’ll keep my peace," he agreed.
Will waited patiently for another couple minutes, and then called
out, "Bridget, quit stalling and get in here!" She appeared almost immediately, and he knew she’d been rubbing her backside in an
attempt to relieve the sting.
The worn denim was stretched tightly over her swol en cheeks,
and Bridget had had a terrible time getting the pants up over her
hips. She was already in so much pain, she honestly didn’t think
she could stand another spanking, but, when Will motioned her
over his lap again, she quickly got into position. It was
embarrassing beyond belief to have her father witness her
punishment, but, she had hopes that his presence would cause
Will to go lightly.
"I’m tired of repeating this lesson, Bridget," Will scolded. "I’m sure I’ll be able to make an impression with my hand today,
young lady, but if I ever have to repeat this again, I will use a
strap on you," he promised.
"Will, I’m truly sorry!" she pleaded. "You really don’t need to do this… Honest. I’ve already learned my lesson."
He ignored her, and started spanking. Bridget cried out in pain
each time his hand landed another sharp spank, and soon she
was kicking, and crying, and begging him to stop. "It hurts! It hurts! Please, Willll…. I’m sorrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyy!"
Will continued until his hand was burning, then he asked calmly,
"Well, Mrs. Bishop? Are your pants on fire?"
"Yeeeessssssssss!" she wailed. "I won’t wear them again, Will. I promise."
Will stood her on her feet, then said, "I hope you remember that promise, honey, because I will remember mine." She nodded
tearfully. He continued, speaking softly, "You know what to
expect now, don’t you, Bridget?"
She raised her tear-filled green eyes to look at him imploringly,
and he was hard put to stay firm. He wanted nothing more than
to hold her close and soothe her, but he couldn’t. He had to
follow through. She knew the penalty for risking her life. He
simply wouldn’t allow her to go unpunished for doing so.
Bridget swal owed hard, but nodded in acceptance. She’d known
ever since her father had pulled her out from under the stallion’s hoofs that this moment would arrive. Will was a man of his word.
"You can tell your father goodbye, honey, then take the riding whip off the wall and go into the bedroom and wait. You know
what I expect you to do," he said quietly.
Bridget walked over and gave her solemn parent a hug. "I’m
sorry I frightened you, Papa. I promise I’ll never do this again.
You have my word on it."
Flynn hugged her tightly, and then leaned down to kiss the top of
her head. "I didn’t like tanning you, Girl, but I did it ‘cause I love you. Same as Will is doing now. You be good now," he added
gruffly. It broke his heart to see her take that small whip off the wall and head for the bedroom, and a part of him wanted to beat
the hell out of the younger man for "hurting" his little girl. He took a step toward Will, and then saw the look in his eyes. "She’s a handful, ain’t she?" Flynn nodded good-bye, and then headed for the door. He couldn’t bear to stand by for the rest of it.
Will watched the older man mount up, and then whispered, "Yes, Sir, she sure is a handful." He took a deep breath, and then
headed for the bedroom. The sooner this was done, the better
he would feel.
arranged pillows on the bed, and the small whip was lying right
there, waiting for him to pick it up and stripe her backside. Right now he was almost sorry he’d retrieved it from the woodpile, but
it had become a symbol in their marriage. He’d promised to use
it only when she put her life in danger, and she’d certainly done
that again today.
"Bridget, come here, please," he called to her. Bridget walked over to stand in front of him. "Tell me why you’re going to be punished with this," he picked up the small whip and held it in front of him.
"Because I risked my life today," Bridget replied without hesitation.
"Do you have any explanation or any reason why I shouldn’t do this?" he asked, willing to let her explain if she could.
"No, Sir," she replied.
He took her hand and helped her get in position. Her poor
backside was a deep red, and he could already see signs of
bruising. This was not going to be a pleasant experience, and
she would feel the effects of it for some time. "I’m going to give you twenty, and I expect you to count them, Bridget, and thank
me."
He gave her the first one across the fullest part of her cheeks,
and Bridget cried out in pain. "One, Sir. Thank you, Sir," she said dutifully. By the time he reached the tenth stroke, she was nearly incoherent, and was sobbing.
"I’ll finish the last ten rather quickly, Bridget. You won’t need to count them," he told her. He placed his hand on her back to
steady her, and gave her the final ten strokes, the last three to
the sensitive area where her bottom met her thig
hs. He sat
beside her and gently rubbed her back while she cried… Then,
when she finally settled a bit, he moved the pillows from beneath
her and tucked her in bed. She was exhausted and needed to
sleep.
*****
Will glanced over at his wife and couldn’t help smiling in good
humor as he watched her waving goodbye to her father and
brothers. She waved until the stage was out of town, and she
couldn’t see a trace of them, then she turned and tried to find a
comfortable position in which to sit for the next several hours.
After she squirmed unsuccessfully for a few minutes, Will
couldn’t help chuckling. "Still hurts, huh?" he asked without sympathy.
"Yes," she didn’t bother to deny what was only too obvious, and she was grateful that they were traveling alone.
"Not going to try riding any more unbroken horses, are you, Mrs.
Bishop?" Will asked quietly.
"No," she quickly agreed. She never wanted a repeat of that day… not ever again!! After the paddling her father gave her, she
was positive she would never sit again… but it was nothing
compared to the one Will gave her upon hearing the news that
she’d nearly been trampled by the wild stal ion. Flynn hadn’t
done one thing to stop the younger man from raising hell on her
backside, either, and in fact, he had seemed pleased that Will
was upset enough to give her a thorough hiding. That had been
the day before yesterday, and Bridget was positive she could still feel every last stripe the angry Will had dealt her poor backside
and thighs with the small riding whip. No, she was NEVER going
to try riding a wild horse again. No matter how bored she was!
Will nodded, and then gave her a little smile. He’d said enough
on the subject, and she’d been punished thoroughly. "It was nice of your father to offer to have someone look after the stock so we could get to the folks’ ranch early and help set up for the
wedding. It’ll give you time to get to know my family before all the guests start arriving."
"Do you think your parents will like me, Will?" she asked for the umpteenth time since he’d shared the "surprise" with her.
"They’ll love you, Bridget," he replied with absolute certainty.