by Rue Chapman
Kyra glared at the empty dirt road ahead of her, frowning when she saw the gateway. Carefully she braked and pulled off into the dust at the side of the road, then sat for a moment, her fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel.
The early morning sunlight streamed down, already promising the heat that would come as the sun rose higher. She couldn't sit here all day. She had a debt to pay, and the sooner she got out of this car, the sooner it would all be over.
She forced her hands from the wheel and got out of the car, walking with leaden feet towards the gate.
Dammit, why didn't she know when to stop? Why couldn't she ever pull back, let things go, play safe? But everyone was cheering her on, and the cards were running her way, and the bets kept building... until suddenly the luck deserted her and her bets became wilder and more desperate, and then she'd lost everything.
She closed the gate behind her - always leave a gate the way you find it, even now that was automatic - and started along the almost-overgrown old road, now not much more than a track through the bush.
She'd lost to the one person in the world she couldn't afford to lose to. Jarvis Casteel.
She pushed past clutching branches, grimly following the track. She didn't care how long it took to get to the end, but the faster she got there, the sooner it would be over.
The Baughmans' and the Casteels' had been neighbours for generations. They were still arguing over which family had started the first farm in the district. In fact, they were arguing about almost everything, and always had.
She almost tripped over a rock hidden in the low grass. Great, break an ankle, then he wouldn't... Yes he would, he'd just wait till the ankle was healed. He was good at waiting. And he always got what he wanted. Almost always. Up to now.
Kyra grimaced again, how could she be so stupid! Like most families on the land, the Baughmans had formed a company. Her parents owned a 50% share in the property, her brother had 25% and she owned the other 25%. Or she had, till last night. When she'd been drinking at the pub with friends, and been caught up in a fun game of poker, and then suddenly other people joined the game and it wasn't fun any more, it was serious. And then there were just the two of them, Kyra Baughman and Jarvis Casteel, and her luck was gone and she bet wildly, stupidly, desperately... she bet more than she had.
She stopped for a moment to untangle a grasping branch from her hair, impatiently twisting the long blonde locks into a knot at the back of her head, reaching into her pocket for the combs she always carried there to hold her hair out of the way when she was busy. Then she marched on.
She was so sure her luck would come back. She bet too foolishly, and too high.
And he knew it, and he took the bet. And after the game, while she was pale with shock at what she'd done, he smiled his shark-smile and whispered so that only she could hear. "You have a choice. I get your share of the property, or I get you for one day. How far will you go to keep your share?"
She kicked at a stick, wishing it was a snake. It wasn't just losing her share of the property, it was the knowledge that a Casteel owning part of Garrawalt would kill her father.
So now she was following his instructions - his orders - and walking down this track towards the original Casteel homestead, long abandoned for bigger and better things.
And he'd just be loving this, she knew. Over the years there'd been all the usual teasing and rivalry between Baughmans' and Casteels', Kyra's brother and Jarvis Casteel were the same age and were rivals all through school, although after a few years they went from enemies to grudging respect to friendship. But Kyra kept the feud going, never missing a chance for a snide remark or a sneaky trick. Uneasily she remembered years of mean comments and dirty tricks, and knew that this was his chance for revenge.
One whole day, with a man she hated. But she could take it, she was strong, she wouldn't let it get to her. One day and it'll all be over and forgotten.
And suddenly she was there.
The track ran into an open clearing. To her right was the old homestead, once the heart of Loganholme. To her left was a pool fed by one of the few springs in the district, the water always clear and deep and cool. She hesitated, her instructions hadn't gone past this point.
"So you've decided to earn your share back?" His voice was cold, calm, almost disinterested.
She turned slowly to face him, her chin high. "You're not getting my land."
"Then I'm getting you."
She sneered at him. "And this is the only way you can get a girl? Forcing her? That's pathetic."
He stood up and walked slowly towards her. "I won't take you by force. I won't take you till you beg me. But I will teach you some lessons you won't forget."
"There's nothing you can teach me. Just get your jollies then let me get out of here."
In another place and time his smile would have seemed pleasant. But his eyes were grey steel. "You have so much to learn. About humility, and obedience. By the time I'm done with you, you'll know a lot more about yourself."
"That's a lot for just one day." She tried to sound confident, but her throat was dry, her voice harsh.
"I'm a good teacher." He stepped back. "Strip."
She was half-expecting something like that, but the single word sent chills down her spine. Angry words rushed through her mind, but pride kept her silent. Grimly she started to unbutton her shirt.
"Slowly." He leant back against a convenient rock, perfectly at ease. "I want to savour your first lesson."
Unbutton the shirt. Shoes, take the shoes off. Then socks. Drop the shirt. Undo the jeans, hating the way you have to wriggle to get out of them. Bra and panties. Don't look at him, don't bother asking him if you can keep them on, he'll just enjoy saying no. Unclip the bra. Impossible not to hesitate before dropping it on the pile of clothes. Panties. Left till last. Take hold of them -
"Wait."
Impossible not to give a tiny sigh of relief. She folded her arms over her breasts, hoping he'd come to his senses, that he'd finished this cruel game.
He strolled forward. "I think I'll unwrap this gift myself."
She shuddered as his fingers slid down her skin, rough against the soft flesh. He slipped his fingertips inside the elastic. She could feel his breath warm on her stomach as he knelt in front of her. "Pink lace. Who'd have guessed it?" And then, slowly savouring the moment, he started peeling her last protection away. She closed her eyes as she felt the fabric sliding past her hips... then tried not to gasp in dismay as he took the panties lower, exposing her to him.
"Legs apart."
Trying to blank her mind, she shuffled her feet apart a little, freeing the fabric to travel down her thighs, down past her knees, till they pooled at her ankles.
"So, you really are a natural blonde. Very nice." His hands slid up her thighs... and then he stood up and moved away. "Fold your clothes neatly, and put them on that rock. You won't be needing them today."
She shivered, despite the warm sun on her skin, and scrabbled to pick up the discarded clothes, fumbling as she folded them and left them in a sad pile.
"Hands at your sides. I want to see my new toy properly." She stood like a soldier at attention as he walked around her. "Hmmm... nice breasts - just big enough to jiggle a bit. Lovely nipples - just the right size to play with. Golden skin... so smooth." He kept circling her. "And this bottom - all those years of horse riding have certainly shaped a lovely full arse, my dear. Firm and rounded, a man could spend all day just playing with those cheeks." He moved on. "Those thighs - I could stroke those thighs for a long time, lovely and long, just right to spread wide and... oh yes, and here we are again." He was in front of her. "Those lovely little golden curls. And I can just glimpse those little pink lips..." He stepped back. "But first things first. We have work to do, and it's time for your next lesson." He waved a lazy arm towards the waterhole. "There's some old trees over there. With branches that are just perfect for our next activity. Go and pick six of them. As long as your arm, as thick as your little finger. And, for your own sake, I suggest you pick the smoothest ones." He smiled the smile she already hated. "Off you go. You have five minutes. I promise you, you don't want a time penalty."
Trying not to think about what was happening, Kyra turned towards the old building and stepped carefully towards the pool, and the old willows that had been planted there generations before. She could feel his eyes on her, watching as she moved. It felt so wrong to be naked in the sunlight, naked in front of her enemy. Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about anything. Five minutes, how long was left? She tried to hurry, hissing as her bare feet found too many sticks and stones.
Six of them, as long as her arm, as thick as her little finger. Trying to work fast she clutched at the trailing branches, sorting through then until she had some that seemed close enough, then stumbling back to her tormentor.
"Here." She held the branches out.
"Kneel."
She gaped at him for a moment, then knelt down awkwardly. "Here's the sticks you wanted."
He took them from her hands, running his fingers down their slender length. "They seem well enough. And you made it just in time." He stood up and swung the handful of sticks back and forth - they cut through the air with the sound like tearing silk. "Now, my sweet little viper, let's see if we can work on that pride of yours. Time for a lesson in humility, and endurance. Follow me."
Kyra scrambled to her feet and hurried after him. He stopped at a fallen tree, carefully surveying it and choosing a smooth branch that curved up into the air.
"Over."
Kyra's mind froze for a moment, then... "No..."
He took hold of her arm and swung her roughly to face him. "I will not hear that word again today. You will say 'Yes sir' or you will be silent, do you understand?" His voice, his eyes, were chilling.
And for the first time she felt real fear. Up to now she'd been grimly determined, but now she realised she was alone with this cold man. And he owned her for the day.
"Well?"
"Yes ... sir..."
He nodded in satisfaction. "You might be a fast learner after all. For your sake I hope so, although I'll have more fun if you're not." He pointed at the branch. "Over. And I won't repeat an order again."
Struggling to believe this was happening, Kyra faced the branch and leaned forward. It was just at hip-height for her, the curve of the branch hard against the top of her thighs.
"Further. Hands on the ground."
Gritting her teeth she leaned forward and down, reaching for the ground. Finally she had to push herself up onto her toes, wriggling further over the branch until her hands were on the ground, her bottom high and exposed. She tried not to think about the view he had now.
"Oh that's just right. Perfect. Now all you have to do is stay in that position. You have my permission to make as much noise as you want, in fact I'll enjoy it." He leaned forward. "And I must say, you've never looked lovelier than you do right now. Those lovely cheeks parting just enough to show me..."
Kyra desperately clamped her thighs together.
"No no, move those sweet thighs apart." Miserably Kyra moved her legs a little, the curve of the branch making it difficult to keep them close together. "Wider. Keep going... that's better. That's a perfect view."
She knew she was spread wide now, she could see that he was standing right behind her, making the most of her humiliating position.
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