His Scottish Pet: Dom of the Ages
Ryce looked up and stated simply, “Not another word, Avril. Otherwise, I will be forced to spank you.” He continued on with his work, knowing full well what was going to happen next.
“Spank me? Nae! Ah’m nea a bairn!”
Ryce smoothed out the rough edges of the hoof with the file without commenting.
“Don’t you see it’s uneven?” Avril blurted.
Ryce didn’t bother looking up, but shook his head in response.
When he finished with the last hoof, he spoke to her. “You are a naughty lass, and now your master must teach you a lesson.” He cleaned off his hands in a bucket of water and sat back down on the stool, motioning to her. “Lie across my knee.”
She looked at him warily, but moved towards him. “Yer nae goin’ to, ar ye?”
He said nothing, waiting patiently for her to submit.
With the timidity of a child, she lay across his muscular thighs.
Her obedience caused a stirring in his loins and he growled lustfully, “That’s good, Avril.” Ryce slowly pulled up her skirt to expose her round little ass.
Avril gasped softly when his hand began to caress her buttocks through the thin material of her undergarment. “Your master must punish your lack of respect, don’t you agree?”
“Aye,” she whispered.
He rubbed his hand against her ass, warming it up for her spanking. He liked to prolong the moment before the first swat. Avril squirmed seductively, obviously enjoying the tease and anticipation.
“No crying out, Avril. You might spook Bonnie.”
“Aye.”
He lifted his hand and let it fall resoundingly on her right cheek. She squealed softly. “Naughty lass.” He lifted his hand again and swatted the left cheek. This time she was quiet. “Much better, Avril.”
As reward he began to spank her repeatedly, causing her to squirm against his hardening cock. He stopped to admire her shapely ass. Ryce commented as he caressed it tenderly, “Lovely, simply lovely.”
He slipped his finger under the material and touched her moist outer lips. She froze when his fingers grazed her sensitive nodule. “Good lasses get rewarded, Avril.” He rubbed against it with greater intensity until he had her moaning and writhing, then he slowly sank his middle finger into her.
A tiny squeak escaped her lips and then she became stock-still. He explored her inner walls with his finger, pressing deeper. Although she was not a virgin, he could tell she had not been fingered by a man before and the thought excited him. To be a woman’s first with any activity heightened the experience.
He glided his finger over her moist walls, reaching for that swollen spot that would tease her to completion. He rolled his finger over the area and felt her muscles tighten in response. Ryce had her full attention now, so he pulled his finger out and swatted her ass again.
“Nae,” she complained.
“I decide what you need, Avril.” He pulled down the fabric to expose her naked bottom and then swatted the white skin resoundingly. The slapping sound, accompanied by the alluring way the flesh rolled in waves with each contact, aroused Ryce. It was a sensual contact for both the giver and the receiver when delivered correctly.
She moaned on his lap, rubbing herself purposely against his shaft. Again, he was grateful for the comfort and ease of the kilt. With the simple lift of material, he could have her. But he was not a gratuitous lover. He spanked her ass again, appreciating the deepening pink on her skin as her buttocks warmed to his touch.
Then he sought her sweetest spot with this finger. This time Avril cried out when he teased it. She was hot and swollen, ripe for climax. He began rubbing inside with the same motion as if he was taking her with his cock. Her body instantly responded by arching itself to meet him. Such a greedy girl, he thought, enjoying his power over her. He was almost tempted to pull his finger out to tease her further, but this being their first time he chose to be charitable. “Close your eyes and don’t move,” he commanded.
She instantly stopped squirming, but the moaning continued as he increased the pressure of his caress. There came that moment when her body tensed just before the release. She groaned as her inner muscles milked his hand and she covered it in her warm juices.
He pulled his finger out and then slapped her ass hard. She squealed in surprise, causing Bonnie to kick the wall of the barn.
“I told you not to spook her.”
She turned her head and smiled. “Ar ye goin’ to spank me?”
He gently replaced her undergarment back over her pink bottom, shaking his head with a smirk. “No, Avril. Now you must kiss my shaft.”
Her eyes became wide as saucers. Apparently she hadn’t experienced oral stimulation either. It was sadly amusing to think that because of misguided church mandates, the majority of couples fornicated using only one prescribed position, never knowing the limitless possibilities at their fingertips.
Well, there’s a first time for everything.
“On your knees.”
She slowly lifted herself off his lap. He opened his legs and she settled between his masculine thighs. “Lift the kilt,” he ordered.
She cautiously lifted the heavy material, and looked up at him shyly when she saw how erect he was.
He went to caress her scarred cheek, but she turned away. “No, Avril. Do not be ashamed. I find your scars beautiful.”
Avril looked up at him with doubt. She closed her eyes and allowed him to touch her face. He gently traced the scars on her right cheek and then the smooth skin on her left. “Both equally beautiful in their own way. You are a survivor. I admire that.”
“Thank ye, Master.”
He smiled. She’d called him Master on her own. Ryce watched as Avril leaned forward and kissed the head of his manhood with her pink lips. His cock responded by twitching.
She jumped back in surprise and then giggled.
“Kiss it again,” he said huskily.
Avril took his cock in one hand and pressed her lips against it again. He felt his balls squeeze up tight, wanting to release inside her mouth.
“Lick it,” he insisted.
She obediently stuck her tongue out and licked the head of his cock once.
“More, Avril.”
She glanced up at him with a look of understanding and then began to lick his entire shaft, even caressing his balls with her sweet tongue. The momentum was building for an intense climax. Ryce threw back his head and groaned as his come erupted, shooting into the air in passionate triumph.
He was disappointed that Avril let go of his manhood, but he instinctively grabbed onto it to stroke himself to completion. He was remotely aware that Avril was sitting back, observing his actions. After the last spasm ended, he opened his eyes and smiled down at her, thinking, Next time I’m instructing you on how to stroke and swallow.
“Guid?”
He nodded. “Yes, very good.” Ryce motioned to the bucket. “Fetch it.”
She quickly retrieved the water and helped to clean him off. Afterwards, he lay down on the hay and asked her to join him. She snuggled up against his chest and sighed contentedly.
He played with her long auburn hair as he spoke. “I suppose a woman as comely as you must have a line of suitors.”
She looked up from his chest questioningly. “Ar ye lookin’ for a wifie?”
He chuckled. “No, I am not interested in marriage. I was just curious.”
She frowned and laid her head back down on his chest. “There’s not a dunderhead haur I fancy to marry. They ar all too old or too cross. I prefer livin’ in ma own hoose.”
Ryce’s hopes of freeing himself of Chrisselle began to crumble. “Surely there is at least one decent man among them.”
She lifted her head and shook it sadly. “Nae.”
He snorted in disgust. “God’s teeth!”
Avril laughed. “Whit, ye want to marry me off?”
Ryce realized his reaction seemed odd and covered himself, chuckling lightly. “No, Avril, b
ut you deserve a good man.”
“Ah dae fine on ma own.”
“Yes, you do at that,” he replied, kissing the top of her head before getting up. “Thank you for your gracious hospitality.”
She scrambled to her feet, grinning. “Thank ye for ma spankin’.”
He smiled and kissed her hand before starting down the path back to his place.
“Master Leon, were ye serious about needin’ ma help?”
Ryce turned around, feeling a ray of hope. “Yes. I have a niece back in England. Would you be able to fashion her a dress? No, make it two.”
Avril nodded. “How big is the lassie?”
Ryce held up his hand to indicate Buchanan’s petite height and added, “She’s thin like you.”
“Color?”
“Anything but blue.”
She laughed as she headed into her cottage. “I wull dae it fur ye.”
****
Despite Avril’s offer to help, Ryce was not happy as he made his way back home. The distraction of their time together could not make up for the fact he had to face Buchanan without a plan for her departure. It was more than he could stomach.
He took a detour to the MacPhersons’, knowing he would be able to procure onions and turnips. No matter the level of famine, there were always those who ate well. It just took a man of means to part such people from their spoils.
Ryce hoisted the bag of root vegetables onto his back as he opened the door to his cottage. He fully expected to be greeted with the smell of cooking meat. Instead, the fire was dead and he found no sign of Buchanan. He called out her name several times, but got no response.
He set the bag on the table and ran outside, concern overshadowing his irritation. Had he scared her away with his callous attitude? As much as he resented the responsibility of her, he couldn’t abide the thought of her wandering alone.
She’s an idiot to run. God knows what might happen to her…
“Buchanan!” he yelled as he checked the barn and surrounding fields. He reasoned she couldn’t have gone far, considering her health. He saddled Eventide and then went back to the house to retrieve his claymore, the unique two-handed sword he had crafted before he came to Scotland.
She was sitting at the table, preparing the vegetables as if nothing was amiss.
“Where have you been?” Ryce roared.
She smiled up at him. “A’m cookin’ yer meal.”
“Where were you?”
She blushed before she could recover. “Ah… slept all day, Master Leon.”
“You were not here when I returned.” He looked at the unruffled bed for added emphasis. “I do not tolerate liars, Buchanan.”
She put down the knife and fidgeted uneasily. “I followed ye.”
Ryce closed his eyes. Why in God’s name would the girl follow him? But more importantly, how much had she seen? “Come over here,” he said ominously, his anger dangerously close to the surface.
Her hands shook as she got up from the table. She walked over to him, her eyes riveted to the floor.
“Look at me.”
She lifted her hollow face and met his furious gaze with courage.
“Why did you follow me?”
“Ah wus feart.”
“Afraid of what?” he asked evenly, reining himself back in.
“Afraid ye were gaein’ to leave me.”
“And how would following help?”
Her bottom lip trembled. “I dinnae ken.”
He corrected her. “Say ‘I don’t know’.”
Buchanan said in a mere whisper, “I dinnae know…”
He held her chin so she could not look away when he asked, “How much did you see?”
Her whole body seemed to blush a dark shade of pink.
Well, that answers that question.
Ryce couldn’t understand how he had failed to discern her presence. He was an experienced huntsman after all. He should have heard her following. The idea he was slipping unnerved Ryce and he took it out on the girl.
“I do not appreciate being spied on, Buchanan. In fact, it makes me very angry.” She shifted in discomfort and attempted to pull away. His grip became tighter around her bony chin as he snarled, “I will not tolerate it.”
“Aye,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Ye wull get rid o’ me now.”
He snorted in disgust. “I would if I could. Until I find an acceptable home I’m stuck with you.”
Ryce didn’t miss the look of hope that sprang in her green eyes. “But I will find someone, Buchanan,” he added cruelly, “even if it means marrying you to old MacDougall.” He felt her shudder in his hand as he let go of her. Although he wouldn’t marry her off to an old lecher, the girl needed to be put in her place. “I fully expected you to cook the game I caught while I was out. I instructed you to eat it and rest. You have disobeyed me twice today. To make matters worse, you sneaked off and spied on me. There is only one remedy for this.”
“Ah’m sairy,” she pleaded.
He pointed to the food. “Get the meal ready. I will return shortly.”
“Ah’m sairy!” she called after him as he left.
He slammed the door and headed towards the barn. He knew exactly how to handle the waif.
Kegan & the Crop
The next morning he woke up relaxed for the first time in ages. He glanced over at Buchanan. She was curled up on the makeshift bed he’d made her on the floor. Buchanan looked all that that much sweeter with the collar around her neck attached to the long leather leash.
She opened her green, soulful eyes and stared at him.
“Good morning, Buchanan. While I am out today, you will wipe down the place from top to bottom. I will be checking your work when I return, so be thorough or suffer the consequences.”
“Ar ye gaein’ to spank me?”
He shook his head to clear it. Had he heard her correctly? Buchanan’s attempt at flirtation was completely wasted on him.
“You are not worthy,” he replied simply. He got up, grabbed the leftover turnip from the night before and headed outside to get her a bucket of water. When he returned Ryce informed her, “I’ll be out the entire day. I expect the place to be spotless when I get back.” He added with a devilish smirk, “Oh, and there’s a chamber pot in the corner for you.”
He left with a deep-throated chuckle. If he applied just enough humiliation, she would run into the arms of another without looking back. It was a harsh tactic, but necessary. He needed to make her uncomfortable enough to desire escape.
Ryce spent the day hunting deer and eventually tracked down a small buck in a concealed thicket. Ending life, even that of a beast, was not a pleasant task. He watched with a sense of sorrow as the buck took its last breath. “Go in peace,” he whispered, stroking its neck.
Its end was unfortunate, but the animal would fatten Buchanan up and still leave enough for Kegan’s brood. He quickly gutted the beast and threw it over Eventide’s flank before starting the trek back.
After washing the blood from his hands, he entered his home, curious what he would find. Ryce glanced around the room. It appeared she’d followed his instructions, but what surprised him more was the fact that Buchanan was kneeling on the ground with an expectant look on her face.
He had expected defiance, and wasn’t prepared for this. He walked around the room, intending to find something to criticize her for, but she had been thorough. Ryce glanced down at Buchanan, with the skirt of blue pooled on the floor framing her small body. It was… enchanting.
He huffed angrily, “Do not think that following my orders for one day will have any sway over me.”
“Ah ken.”
“And I want only proper English spoken in this house. If you don’t know what to say, answer with a simple ‘yes’, ‘no’, or ‘I don’t know’.”
“Yes,” she answered quietly.
“Always address me as Master Leon,” he admonished.
She looked up at him and smiled hesitant
ly. “Yes, Master Leon.”
Ryce sighed inwardly in frustration. This was not going the way he envisioned. She was hanging on to every word he said. He was about to chastise her for it when he heard a knock at the door.
With lightning speed, he untied her leash and ordered, “Get under the bed and whatever happens, stay there until I say otherwise.”
Once she was out of sight, Ryce opened the door and hid his relief when he saw that it was only Kegan.
“Come for a visit?”
“Yes. I’ve brought you this, Master Leon,” she said in perfect English, holding out a loaf of oatbread.
He hated that she’d sacrificed food to offer her thanks, but knew better than to decline it. “Thank you, Kegan.” He took the loaf and placed it on the table without inviting her inside. “I have in mind something a little different for tonight.” He walked through the threshold and shut the door behind him.
She smiled seductively. “A surprise?”
“Yes. I have had a very stressful trip.”
She swung her hips alluringly. “I like the sound of that.”
Ryce gave her a knowing glance. “I thought you might.”
When they entered the barn he instructed her to undress. He lifted his saddle off the wooden stand and placed it on Eventide’s stall door. The steed moved forward, obviously curious as to why his saddle was suddenly within reach. Ryce tapped his nose lightly. “No chewing on the leather, Eventide.”
He covered the stand with a horse blanket and grabbed a length of rope, directing Kegan to it. “Spread your legs and lean over it, holding onto the legs of the stand.”
She purred as she bent over. “Oh, this is different, Lord Leon.”
He picked up the crop hanging on the wall and snapped it hard against her right buttock. Kegan yelped.
“Master to you,” he reminded her curtly. The woman was predictable—however, he was not. Ryce tied each ankle tightly to a separate leg of the stand and moved to the other side to secure her wrists as well. He stood back to admire his work.
Kegan’s legs were spread wide for him. When she gazed up at him from her helpless position, the look of lust in her eyes was inspiring.