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“You’ve more than earned a spanking, little mouse,” he drawled, and the fabric of my jeans slowly parted beneath his blade or whatever he was using to cut through the thick cloth. As the flesh of my panty-clad ass was slowly revealed, shame crept over me like a suffocating shroud. A chill brushed against my skin, and every one of my senses heightened. The sound of the cutting continued, and before long, he pulled the remains of my jeans from my body and tossed them aside.
Bare from the waist down aside from my panties, I shivered. I told myself it was from the chill, but I knew better. I was afraid, and when his fingers slipped beneath the hem of my panties, I stiffened once again. He curled his fingertips and the sharp points of his nails dug into my bottom cheek, which made me cry out in alarm.
Were those claws?
My brain was being irrational. That was ridiculous. Humans didn’t have claws. I tried to rack my brain so that I could remember what his fingers looked like. Had he had pointed nails before? Was he the kind of guy that got his nails done? I mean, more power to him, but that didn’t feel right either.
He gripped me a bit harder and the mental gymnastics my brain did to try to convince me that he didn’t have claws when he most definitely did was deeply unsettling. The pointed ends dug into my flesh, and a deep ache of pain rattled through me as a result.
“Murtagh, help me!”
“You’re going to get what’s coming to you, Zazie. I suggest you be a good girl and maybe he won’t spank you as hard as I will when we get to New Orleans,” Murtagh answered, and I froze in place, only for Caspian to take my panties in his grasp and yank them down. There was no ceremony to it. One moment they were up and the next they were down, and there was nothing I could do about it, even though I tried. I attempted to press my hand backwards, but he still had it pinned easily behind my back.
Fuck me. New Orleans?
That was when I realized that the car was moving. The driver was driving down the streets of Baton Rouge, fully intent on driving the hour and a half to New Orleans for whatever they had planned for me, and it dawned on me that I had to stop this before it went too far.
“You can’t take me to New Orleans,” I said as if they’d told me they were taking me to the moon, and Caspian chuckled.
“You’re awfully demanding for a girl about to get her bare ass spanked bright red,” he replied, and I gulped so loud that the two of them probably heard it.
My face flushed. This was unfair. People shouldn’t have to deal with shit like this! “I’m going to kill you both,” I warned them, fury pouring through my veins in an instant.
“I’m sure you will,” Murtagh laughed, and it made my fury immediately turn into shame. He was right; not only could I not kill them, but the chances of me even giving them what could be regarded as a boo-boo seemed far-fetched.
“Why don’t you just let me go and have me arrested or something?” I languished.
“Because I’m going to enjoy this far more than a court hearing,” Caspian murmured, and I threw in one last-ditch effort to fight my way out of this position and utterly failed once again. I wasn’t strong enough, and I was at such a disadvantage that getting free was simply a pipe dream.
The futility of my efforts wasn’t lost on me, just like it probably wasn’t on him.
My bare bottom tensed, the chilly air wafting over it unintentionally making me shiver. That same air brushed against my bare pussy, and I was horrified to realize that I was wet, and not just a little wet, but soaked.
Something was truly wrong with me.
“Please don’t,” I whined, as my helplessness finally settled on my shoulders. My muscles stiffened and my heart hammered in my chest, but Caspian’s hand inevitably pressed against my bare ass, and I fully realized that I was really about to get spanked for a second time in my life, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it.
“You stole from me, didn’t you, little mouse?” Caspian said quietly, and my blood rushed through my head like a raging river.
“Yes,” I answered, realizing that there was nothing else to say now. I could deny it, but I was wearing the ring and was honestly wishing I’d stolen them all, since my punishment couldn’t possibly have been any worse. They would have felt good in my hand right about now. He had my hand pulled back and was probably looking right at it, completely certain of my guilt. A judge or jury was not needed in this scenario, and I definitely deserved having my bare bottom spanked like a naughty little girl for getting caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
“Yes, what,” he corrected, his buttery voice taking on a hardened edge.
Oh, he was one of those Alpha-guys. Murtagh and Caspian must have been cut from the same cloth. “Yes, sir,” I muttered.
“Such a pouty girl,” he observed, and my cheeks flushed with heat. I wished a black hole would open up beneath me, swallow me whole, and deliver me somewhere safe with a fully functional pair of pants covering my naked ass.
I wasn’t that lucky.
Instead, Caspian’s broad palm settled on my left cheek, and I noticed that his nails were no longer as long or as sharp as they were before, which was weird, but maybe it was a little part of the crazy still lingering inside my head and taking over my body.
You can survive this, whatever this is.
“You can’t do this. You can’t just kidnap me, spank me, and take me wherever you want. People are going to ask questions,” I tried one last time, and I didn’t even have to look to see Caspian shake his head.
“People will believe anything with the right amount of money attached. That’s something that will never change, no matter how much time goes by or what century it is,” Caspian replied.
What did that mean?
