Two Guardians for Little May (10 page)

"I'm sorry,
kid, but I have work to do."

"You always
have work to do," May complained. She plopped on the couch, turned on the
TV, and began channel surfing.

"May? I'm
trying to concentrate. Please look at the channel guide and pick one
thing."

"There's
nothing on."

"Read a
book."

"Not in the
mood."

"Play a
video game."

"They're
lame."

Layton placed his
papers on the coffee table. "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing."

"Okay, well,
until you figure it out, how about you go up to your room."

"I'm going
to take a walk."

"Take an
umbrella along with you and come back in immediately if you see lightning. I
don't want to have to go looking for you. May? Did you hear me?"

"Yeah, I
heard you," May muttered, walking outside. The warm drops pelted her in
sheets, soaking her to the skin within seconds as she stomped through some
puddles and headed in the direction of the lake.

On impulse, she climb
into the little aluminum fishing boat and paddled out from the shore. Closing
her eyes to the rain, May lost herself to the sound of the drops splashing
against the surface of the lake, and the rumbling of thunder in the distance.

It had been two
weeks since the Marshalls had invaded her life. Two weeks since she was
introduced to the sense of safety and love which she now called home. Two weeks
since her last nightmare. She'd never expected to feel the need to have anyone
in her life, other than her horse, yet every day with the 'boys' made her feel
more content and happy.

A loud clap of
thunder startled her, and she looked around frantically. The wind had pushed
the little boat to the center of the large body of water. She snarled as she
looked at the stern; Layton had removed the motor to repair it earlier that
week. Swearing repeatedly, she tossed the oars into the water and began to row
against the wind towards the shoreline.

The waves pushed
against her and May finally gave up. She sat helplessly as the storm fell
around her, jumping every time the thunder roared.

"If the
storm doesn't kill me, Layton will," she bemoaned. The wind and waves
eventually drove her across the edge of the lake, about a mile from the house.
Grumbling to herself, May tied the boat to a tree with the docking rope, and
started on her journey back home. A deafening crack made her turn suddenly, and
her eyes fell to the spot where the seat cushion had been reduced to a
blackened mess.

"Fuck!"
May yelled, taking off in a dead run. Her lungs hurt and her teeth were
chattering by the time she barged into the house.

"Have you
been outside? I thought I told you—May!" Layton exclaimed, tossing
his work down and rushing to her side. "Let me get you a towel. Your lips
are blue."

"S-s-so
cooold." May shivered as he pulled a towel from the downstairs bathroom
and wrapped it around her.

"I'll run
you a hot bath. How long have you been outside?"

"Since I
l-left. I'm s-sorry," she trembled, following him upstairs. "The
cushion is dead."

"What are
you talking about? Sit down," Layton ordered, wrapping another towel
around her body. He started the tub, pouring a cup of lavender bath salts under
the faucet, followed by a cup of bubble bath.

"Remember
when you said to ask you for a spanking if I ever felt insecure with you?"
May trembled.

"I do,"
Layton said, his hands on his hips.

"I should
have asked instead of going outside. I went into the boat and it got pushed
across the lake. I got out and, like a second later, it was struck by
lightning."

Layton's jaw
twitched as he stared down at her.

"Say
something," May begged.

"I'm going
to go make you a cup of hot tea, and you are going to soak that cold out of
your body. Afterwards, I am going to make certain that you never feel insecure
again. Understood?"

May nodded,
hanging her head. Layton lifted her chin and stared into her eyes before he
shook his head. "I'll be right back."

May was still in
the same spot when he returned. "You're shaking like a leaf. Stand
up."

She did not
resist him as he peeled the wet clothes from her body and firmly took her elbow
to help her into the hot water. After making certain she was settled in, he
turned to leave.

"Layton?"

"What?"
He paused in the doorway, his back to her.

"I know
you're mad at me, but could you please wash my back?"

Layton hesitated,
took a deep breath, and turned back around. He pulled the dressing stool next
to the tub. "Turn over."

May tilted her
head, confused. He snapped his fingers. "You heard me, turn over."

May slowly rolled
to her stomach and propped her chin on her hands. She felt her bottom bob above
the water level as he reached down to grab the washcloth. Ever so gently,
Layton ran the soapy cloth over her back, around her shoulders, and down to her
hips.

"It's
okay," she said softly. "I just need to be touched right now. In a
parental sort of way."

Layton sighed
with relief and resumed his washing. He worked his way back to her shoulders
and dropped the washcloth back into the water. He began to knead her muscles
with strong, talented fingers, using the soap to slip easily back and forth
across her skin.

"How's
that?" he asked.

"It feels
nice. I need to sit up. My neck is getting a crick in it."

May turned around
and slumped in the bubbles to hide her body, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.
What was she doing?

"Lean back
and I'll wash your hair."

"Layton?"

"What, baby?
His mood had softened tremendously.

"I don't
want to cause any problems between you and Caine."

"Why would
you worry about that?" The washcloth was retrieved again and worked its
way over her small, pert breasts and across her flat tummy.

"I like both
of you. A lot. It's just…"

"May, I need
to fill you in on a little secret between my brother and myself. We share
everything. Literally." He locked eyes with her.

"You do?
Even women?"

"Especially
women. I made the biggest mistake of my life when I married my ex," Layton
admitted, moving the washcloth across her groin and to her left thigh. "I
got involved with her as a rebound relationship after Caine and I broke up with
a shared lover. I was so damaged by what the first bitch had done to me that I
married another one just like her. I didn't even realize it until it was over.
Never again."

"I'm
sorry," May said sympathetically. She closed her eyes as Layton picked up
her right foot and began to massage it. "You have nice hands."

"Remember
that statement when you feel them later," Layton informed her.
"You'll be wishing that you stayed out in the rain."

"Don't I get
props for confessing my stupidity?"

"Of course
you do. It is because of that confession and the request you made that I'm not
taking my belt to your backside."

May was quiet,
reaching for the tea cup and sipping the fresh peppermint brew. She opened her
eyes to look at the handsome man paying homage to her bubble-covered feet.

"I misjudged
you. I'm so sorry."

"We can only
come to conclusions based on our own perceptions, May. I misjudged you as well.
I'm sorry, too."

"You're
really a special guy. Can I keep you?" May purred.

Layton kissed the
sole of her foot. "Forever, as long as Caine is part of the package."

"I wouldn't
dream of anything less."

Quite wrinkled,
and adequately warm, May was paraded to her room wrapped in a towel. Layton
stood in the doorway. "Get your pajamas on and dry your hair. When you are
done, I want you to come downstairs, pull down your pants and bend yourself
over my knee. I'm right-handed, so make certain you turn yourself in the
correct direction."

"Yes,
sir," May said quietly. She watched him close the door and released a
sigh. Her body shivered, but this time in anticipation. Would the spanking
hurt? Yes, certainly, but how different would it feel compared to Caine's
spanking? She could not ignore the warm rush of fluid between her legs and the
aching of her pussy as she painted a picture of the events to come. She added
the presence of Caine to her mind, watching as Layton spanked her bottom to a
vivid claret.

May leaned
against the wall and closed her eyes, and her fingers drifted to her naked body
as the towel slipped silently to the floor. She drew her fingertips lightly up
to the sides of her breasts before brushing them back down, leaving goose bumps
following the tickling sensation. Her fingers trailed over her stomach and
hips, then returned to her breasts and her stiff, sensitive nipples. She
pinched them lightly and felt her thighs squeeze together, and then started to
roll them between her fingers.

May's breathing grew sharp as her hand
began a second journey, sliding down once again between her legs. She spread
her swollen lips apart with her left hand and dipped her index finger into her
drenched sex. Slowly, she spread her slippery juices over her quivering clit
and began to circle the tiny nub. She stopped using her left hand to hold
herself open, and promoted it to more delicate work. First with one finger,
then two, May began to fuck herself.

Flinging her head against the wall,
May slowly sank to the carpeted floor, burying a third finger into her hungry
sheath. Her right hand tirelessly stroked, pinched and circled her engorged
clit, faster and faster. She rocked her body against her soaking wet hand, the
pressure on her clit growing harder and more intense. May captured a whimper in
her throat as she felt her muscles grab at her fingers, with the need to be
penetrated growing more powerful by the second.

Then it happened. May felt her body
open wide before grabbing her fingers and clamping down in a wondrous array of
sensation. She drew her limbs to her chest and clenched her teeth to prevent
her cry of pleasure from being heard by the man downstairs. The man waiting for
her to come to him. The man who had ordered her to pull down her pants and lay
bare-bottomed across his rock hard thighs for a thorough, old fashioned
spanking.

May's eyes opened slowly as she caught
her breath. Satiated, she stood on wobbly legs, washed off the evidence of her
self-pleasure, and dressed in lavender pin-striped cotton pajamas. She dried
her hair and, on impulse, stuck it into two high ponytails. Satisfied with her
appearance, May ventured downstairs.

Layton beckoned to her when she
appeared. Biting her lower lip, May stood to his right side and flushed as she
pushed her pajama pants to her ankles. The top was too short to hide her
sparsely furred pussy, and she felt her body tense as she began her descent
over Layton's lap.

"You were a very naughty little
girl this afternoon," he said, resting his hand over her warm globes.
"Weren't you?"

"Yes, sir. I'm really
sorry."

"You are going to be sorry, since
I have to be taking the time to spank this little bottom of yours. Do you know
why I am taking the time out of my busy schedule to do this?"

"No, sir."

"Yes, you do. But I will say it.
I'm taking this time to show you how much I really care about you, and your
health and safety. Even though a spanking doesn't feel like it's a loving
thing, I assure you that I only spank little girls who I care deeply about. You
could have really been hurt today, Maybelle. That would have made me very, very
sad."

May felt her chest form a knot.
"I'm sorry."

Layton was not finished. "I've
already lost so many people I cared about. Both you and I lost someone recently
who we loved dearly. I have enough holes in my heart already. I could not stand
to lose you, too."

May felt the tears start to drip, and
Layton had not even started the spanking!

"I want your promise to never do
anything that could take you away from me. My life would not mean a thing
without my Maybelle."

May was sobbing before the first smack
registered in her mind, but when it did, she felt her body jolt. Layton did not
hold back, and the furious slaps upon her delicate derrière fell with rapid
intensity. He no longer spoke, resolute in his endeavor to send his little girl
a message routed from her backend to her brain.

"Layton!" May cried out, pushing
her hands into his legs and arching her back. "Layton! No more!
Stop!"

Her thrashing and flailing was quickly
reduced as Layton secured her ankles by hooking his right leg over them. May
tried to reach back, only to have her hand captured and pinned underneath her.
Layton's palm targeted her fleshy orbs with growing intensity, over and over
again, until he was satisfied with both the color and the muffled apologies.