Submitting Sarah (Montana Maiden Series Book 4)

BOOK: Submitting Sarah (Montana Maiden Series Book 4)
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Submitting Sarah

Montana Maiden Series Book 4

 

By

 

Vanessa Vale

 

 

©2015 by Blushing Books® and Vanessa Vale

 

 

All rights reserved.

 

No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

 

Published by Blushing Books®,

a subsidiary of

 

ABCD Graphics and Design

977 Seminole Trail #233

Charlottesville, VA 22901

 

The trademark Blushing Books®

is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

 

Vale, Vanessa

Submitting Sarah

 

eBook ISBN:
978-1-62750-700-4

Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design

 

This book is intended for
adults only
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

SARAH

 

For someone who'd escaped in the dead of night, slipping past not only the town doctor but the sheriff as well, I wasn't as free as I'd hoped. The lightening of the sky was just a faint gray on the distant horizon, the air cool and crisp as if fall were approaching. I shivered in the simple dress I'd donned this morning on my father's ranch. Now, not quite a full day later, my life had changed irrevocably.

Yesterday, my stepmother, Devney, and I, had been taken into town by Doctor Graham, the sheriff, and Mr. Bridger to offer us protection from unsuitable and money-grubbing men. With my father's death a week prior, my stepmother inherited the property and became a very wealthy - and very young - widow. We were very familiar with these vultures rightly enough when Carl, one of the ranch hands, had decided to claim Devney as his future bride, willing or not. Not interested in the union, especially to a cruel and ruthless man, Devney had shot him dead. Then there'd been Mr. Wainright from some far off town who’d been forced to flee after she'd shot in the arm. It had become clear as the glass on the windows we'd been stuck behind that Doctor Graham, the sheriff and Mr. Bridger had been reasonable in their offer of protection; what irked us both was the lack of choice in the matter.

They'd given us an unsavory option - a marriage between Mr. Bridger and Devney - which I'd forbid. She didn't know the man, let alone love him. I'd been on the ranch for six years, yanked from school to stay isolated per my father's wishes, and in that time, Devney and I had spoken dreamily of the men we'd marry, and the love we'd share with those men.

Also in those six years on the ranch, I'd planned my escape. There were no prison bars, of course, but the confinement was the same. With my father dead, leaving Devney alone on the ranch with those men circling to claim her was not something I could do. I'd been forced to remain. But that changed swiftly. With Devney safe under the protection of Doctor Graham, she would be well taken care of.  And based on the way Mr. Bridger had been watching her, I was sure she would be married to the rancher soon enough. Devney was safe.

Because of that, I knew my moment had come. I could finally set off to do what I wanted, be who I wanted to be, and see the places I'd only dreamed about from the confines of the Jenkins Ranch. So with the rising of the moon, I'd slipped fully dressed from bed in Doctor Graham's house, and tiptoed down the stairs and out into the darkness.

Now, a few hours later, it was clear there were some flaws to the plan. In my hasty departure, I gotten no food, no water, and I had a wretched harness about my waist, a veritable chastity belt. Not only did it fit uncomfortably where it covered my woman's core so snugly, it also was positioned between the cheeks of my bottom in a way that was uncomfortable. It was the only constant in my thoughts as I rode the horse I’d borrowed from the livery. Doctor Graham had placed the belt upon me as a protection from unwanted advances; he'd stated that it was to guard my pussy, my virtue. It also made the most basic of life's necessities extremely difficult.

I sighed, savoring the sight of the sky turning pink from a different vantage point, something different than what I'd seen day after day from my father's ranch. In the distance was a smattering of trees in a long line, which I knew meant water. I turned the horse in that direction. As I climbed from the animal, letting it walk to the water's edge for a cool drink, the sun had broken the horizon and I could see clearly.

I knew there had to be some way to remove the leather harness. I'd tried, oh, I'd tried, yet the lock at the small of my back, meant to keep others out, kept me tightly confined within. I would need to find some tool to cut through the tough leather. Perhaps a sharp rock could work. My dress, however, would be quite the hindrance. I couldn't hold it up and work on the leather belt about my waist at the same time. Glancing left and right, I searched for anyone who might witness me in just my shift.

I removed my ankle boots and stockings, undid the buttons of my dress and let it puddle at my feet. I wore my simple white shift and the annoying harness. Devney wore a corset as well, but I was too petite to require one. When I did, it lifted me up and enhanced my breasts in ways I felt only drew more attention to me. My red hair was enough of a burden as it was.

The water was slow moving and shallow, clear and babbling as it was forced around rocks and larger boulders. Finding a tool to use would not be hard. Following the water's edge, I picked up rocks and discarded them, until I found one with just what I was looking for. Pleased, I couldn't help but smile at this first step to escaping the harness.

Finding a patch of soft grass, I sat down on the cool blades still wet with dew, and lifted the bottom of my shift. Spreading my legs wide, I balanced myself as I gripped the leather at my hip in one hand, the rock in the other, rubbing the sharp point across it. Using small motions, I worked one particular spot, hoping to soften and tear through until it broke apart. Then I'd be free. But this wasn't going to be a quick task. As the sun rose, so did the temperature and I became warm.

"This is a sight I had not expected to see."

A man's voice had me jumping in utter surprise, the stone flying from my fingers. Jerking my head toward the voice, I looked up, and up, and up. Although just one man had spoken, two men stood towering over me like giants, I felt as if I were in Lilliput of
Gulliver's Travels
. The men both wore dark pants but one wore a white shirt, and the other light blue. Their hips were narrow, their chests broad and their shoulders even broader. With the sun behind them, I could not see the faces shadowed by the wide brims of their hats.

"A stray cow perhaps, but I never imagined coming across a stray woman." The man's voice was deep, a little rough, and obviously humored.

"Oh!" I gasped, jumping to my feet in a spry, swift motion. As I backed away, I stepped on uneven ground and stumbled, flailing, and crying out. A strong grip on my arm kept me upright.

"Are you all right?"

I looked up at the man who held me close. His pale blue eyes showed clearly now, as did his narrow nose, strong cheekbones and full lips. His hair was close cropped, but very blond. The way his lip turned up at the corner and there were small crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He seemed congenial and found humor in my predicament. Regardless, he was so handsome and striking that I was sure I’d not met a man his equal. Being confined to my father's ranch since I was twelve did not offer me much variety when it came to male presence. My breath caught in my throat just looking at him, and it hadn't been because I'd almost fallen.

"Yes, thank you."

"Is your husband about?" the other man asked as his gaze roamed the landscape.

I squinted into the sun to look at him, but he kindly shifted so the glare was no longer a hindrance. Oh my. Clearly, the two men were brothers. Not twins, for this man's hair was a few shades darker, his shoulders broader and his build stockier. My stomach leapt into my throat and my heart thumped wildly in my chest.

I was attracted to these men.
Both
of them. There must be something wrong with me as I first considered their appearance and not my own personal safety. They were watching me closely, like a coyote and a cornered rabbit. I could flee, but there was nowhere to go. These men could outrun me, outmaneuver me in any escape attempt I might make.

Their eyes moved lower as they appraised my body blatantly, boldly and without shame.  It was then that I remembered I was practically naked – naked! - with two men who were virile, strong and extremely attentive.

"Yes." I cleared my throat, hoping to emit a sense of strength even when there was none. "My husband is...is hunting a rabbit for breakfast."

The fairer haired one hitched a brow. "Really?"

I nodded vigorously. If they thought my husband was soon to return, they'd step back, and give me the deference any man would give someone else's wife. "Yes."

"You've said that already," the other man replied.

"Just passing through, are you?"

"Yes. We've come from Liberty and are headed east." I knew my directions with fair certainty and I'd travelled in that direction from town.

"I only see one horse." The very blond gestured toward my animal.

I titled my chin up, hoping for a show of defiance, but I knew that was not possible in just my shift. I couldn't look formidable in just my unmentionables. "My husband rides the other."

"To hunt a rabbit?"

My claim was absurd and even I knew it. I started to move, to try to step back, but the man had yet to relinquish his hold upon me.

The men began to pepper me with questions.

"Who were you visiting in Liberty?" "Where are your clothes?" "Why did your husband leave you alone?"

"The...the Bridgers!" I said, my voice overly loud. I was beginning to panic at the spontaneous and erroneous answer that popped from my mouth.

Both men silenced and just looked at me closely. The one in the blue shirt put his hands on his hips, the other let me go.

"You're married to a Bridger? Are you Jake's new bride?"

"No." I offered a slight head shake. "I'm not a Bridger bride. Please, just let me go."

I moved to skirt around them, making a hasty retreat toward my dress and shoes.

They, of course, followed. One even grabbed a stocking off the scrubby bush I'd placed it, ran the soft material through his large fingers. Seeing it held in his big hand looked so incongruous.

"There is no husband, is there?"

I froze in place momentarily, then relaxed, trying to appear nonchalant. "Why would you question my word?"

"You're wearing a harness over your pussy. Don't deny it. You're legs were spread and your shift about your waist when we came upon you," the blond replied, his voice shifting to one with authority.

Grabbing my dress, I pulled in close to my chest, hoping to cover as much of me as possible. Retreating slowly, I tried to think of a response. Like the moving water, I couldn't keep up with their words, my lies.

"Perhaps her husband put it on her as punishment, Tagg." He told his brother then turned back to me. "Do you have a dildo or a plug attached?"

I paused and frowned. Confused. "What? I don't know--" I bit my lip, cutting off my sentence realizing I'd said too much, given too much away.

The men glanced at each other, then nodded. It was as if some form of silent communication just occurred without me.

"No husband then. All right, love, tell us your name," the blond offered, his voice rich and deep.

"We're not going to hurt you," the one called Tagg added. "Unlike other men who might have come across you." His jaw clenched.

Their tone changed, their voices quieter, calmer. Slowly, they approached and slowly I moved away. They said they weren't going to hurt me, but the intent look on their faces, the way they inspected every inch of my body, meant they had plans of their own, and those plans involved me. The land angled down ever so slightly and I felt water rushing around my ankles.

I shook my head and put my hands up in front of me, even knowing that wouldn't ward them off. Two long strides and they'd be on me. What were they going to do? I retreated once again, slipped on the smooth pebbles beneath my bare feet and fell back onto my bottom with a ‘oomph.’ Water splashed up around me, then continued on downstream. I was once again sitting with both men looming, although this time I was drenched along with my dress that had fallen into my lap in the water. The river was chilly, but I barely felt it because they'd both rushed to the water's edge in concern when I fell.

"Come on, baby. Climb out of there." The man in the white shirt - the blond - squatted down and held out a hand - a big hand with light hair sprinkling the top of it and up his forearm. He smiled at me, showing straight white teeth. He was even more handsome when he smiled. He looked...safe. Without thinking, I reached out and placed my hand in his big one.

Giving me a gentle tug, he pulled me up and onto my feet, then stood himself, leading me back onto dry land as water sluiced down my body. I tried to pull my hand free, but he wouldn't let go and even took my dress away, tossing it to his brother with a wet squashing sound. I tried to shield myself from their eyes as much as possible, shifting this way and that, but knew the effort was fruitless. They could see...
everything.

"Tell us your name," he said, glancing down at my breasts, which were clearly visible. And my nipples! They were hard little points and the brightest of pink. Why did the fabric have to be so sheer?

I shivered, the soft breeze raising goose flesh on my arms. My body's reaction wasn't from the cold, however, but from the two imposing men standing before me, eyes filled with...something, as they took their time moving over every inch of me. They waited patiently, almost too patiently, like a rattlesnake, waiting for prey to move just the wrong way so they could strike. It was no use. I could not avoid it further. If I scurried away, they'd pounce most assuredly.

"Sarah," I murmured dejectedly. "Sarah Jenkins."

"Sarah Jenkins," the blond repeated, as if testing the word on his tongue. "I am Garrett Ericksson and this is my brother, Tagg."

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