Two Guardians for Little May (17 page)

"And your willingness to give
us your body. Caine and I have been involved in this lifestyle for a long time.
He desires a warm, loving little girl to nurture, and I want a, well…"

"Pain slut?" May asked,
her eyes crinkling as she smiled.

"I was going to say a woman
who is not afraid of either her sexuality or sensuality. The fact that you have
a remarkable masochistic streak is icing on the cupcake for me."

"I was terrified until I met
you, though. I'm still so broken."

"You are becoming whole day by
day darling. Did you enjoy having the two of us?"

"Oh, yes. I didn't think it
would be so incredible!"

"Did any fear seep in? Any
thoughts or flashbacks from the past?" Caine asked softly.

"None. Not right now,
anyway."

"What do you think of
that?" Layton asked, tracing his finger along her bare thigh.

May lifted her face to the sunshine
and closed her eyes. The trauma seemed so far away from her mind, almost like
she had seen a movie that was fading from her memory.

"I think I want to keep moving
forward. And to get out of the water. I am turning into a prune."

"May? I'm home," Caine called
out from downstairs. "Come down here, please."

May smiled happily, picturing him
shuffling around the living room after tossing his lab coat into the wash. She
quickly brushed her hair into two ponytails, pulled on her Hello Kitty pajama
pants and matching pink top, and then skipped merrily into the large room to
welcome him. She froze at the stern expression that greeted her.

Layton stood next to him, wearing an
equally stern expression. In one hand was a half-empty pack of Marlboro lights;
in the other were two empty packs and a lighter. She stared at the cigarettes
for a moment, dumbfounded, then looked at her gear bag that was still propped
against the wall. The contents were spewed all over the floor. A terrible
feeling crept into her stomach as she began to realize how much trouble she was
in. She knew their feelings about the vice, and the pain they had suffered
watching their mother battle the disease which eventually stole her life. May
swallowed as memories of the repeated warning flooded into her mind—that
she was not to do anything that would risk her health, including drugs, alcohol
and, especially, smoking.

"What's this?" Caine asked.

"Why were you snooping in my
bag?" She glared at Layton.

"I smelled cigarette smoke. What
are these doing in here?"

"It's none of your business. I am
an adult,"
May countered,
unable to make eye contact with either of them.

Caine
waited for a
moment. "Come here."

"Daddy..." May whined.

"I said, come here," he
repeated, a bit more firmly than the first time. He did not wait for her to
move and grabbed her wrist to pull her closer towards him.
"Look
at me," he ordered. May peered up into his eyes, trying to put on her best
'angel' face. "What did I tell you about smoking, Maybelle?" he
asked, holding the pack of cigarettes up.

"I don't remember."

"Maybelle Corinne, do not push
me. This is the one subject for which there is no negotiation. I will not
tolerate any excuse for smoking, and you darn well know it."

Looking him in the eyes, shivering
with guilt and anxiety, May managed to croak out, "They are off
limits."

Caine's look of disappointment, mingled with anger,
made May take two steps back. Before she could utter an apology, her PJ pants
were tugged to the floor and she was left standing in her short t-shirt and
lacy pink panties.

She looked down at the puddle of
clothes on the floor with mortification. "Daddy, no, please, don't spank
me. OW!" She was interrupted by a barrage of swats to the thighs, and felt
her face flush with heat.

"Have you been smoking? Tell me
the truth, Maybelle Corinne!" he said, a little louder and angrier this
time.

She
rubbed her stinging
thighs and offered him a pathetic look. "Caine…"

"Be still, young lady," he
ordered sharply. "Put your hands by your sides."

"I'm sorry! They aren't
mine."

"Really, May? If the cigarettes
are not yours, then why are you sorry?" Layton asked, crossing his arms.

"I mean, I'm sorry because I know
I shouldn't have them, but I found them at the practice yard and picked them up
so the horses wouldn't eat them. I forgot to toss them away."

"Are you seriously going to stand there and lie to
my face?" Layton asked. "Besides the half-filled pack, there are two
empty packets and a lighter. Did you just happen to find these laying around
for the horses to chew as well?"

Caine
swatted her thighs
again, popping them several times, and sending May into a yelping dance as she
tried to avoid his hand. "I want an answer right this minute, young
lady."

Big wet crocodile tears dripped down
her face. May was tired of the interrogation and worried about how bad things
were going to get for her.

"Answer me," he growled.

"I don't want to answer any more
questions," May announced, lifting her chin,

"I've learned my lesson and I
swear I won't do it again," she promised.

"Do what, Maybelle? Pick up trash
or smoke?" Caine
sighed loudly, and reached for her
underwear.

"Nooo," she pleaded,
grabbing her panties so he couldn't pull them down. Her attempt to block him
was useless, and the little protection and modesty that she had was ripped out
of her fingers and pushed down to the floor to meet her pajama pants.
"Daddy! I am sorry," May wailed, as she tried to reach back down to
pull her panties back up.

Instead of
letting her
go, Caine grabbed her upper arm and pulled her over his lap. He locked her in
place and released a flurry of very hard smacks to her dodging bottom.

"Owww! Please stop. Owie! I'm
sorry!"

Caine lifted her from his lap, and
held her hands tightly in front of her to prevent her from rubbing. "Are
you ready to tell us the truth? Were you smoking? "

"Yes, sir," May admitted
weakly.

"What on earth would possess you
to do something so stupid?" Caine demanded. "After everything I've
told you about taking care of yourself, and knowing how livid I would be if you
did something like this. Why?"

May
shrugged. "I
don't know. The guys at the yard were all smoking, and I wanted to fit in. You
know, so I could be looked at as just one of the boys."

"We signed you up to take lessons
so that you could get back into barrel racing, not so you could fit in. I bet
everyone's going to think you're 'one of the boys' when they hear about the
spanking you're getting. Maybe I should bring them all in here to watch
it," Layton snarled, his face red with anger, "What do you think
about that?"

"No! Layton, please!" May
panicked. She looked at Caine. "Please!"

Caine
shook his head at
her and released a sad sigh. "I'm so incredibly disappointed in you,
Maybelle," he said. "So very disappointed. You are smarter than
this." He paused. "Pick up your pajama pants and underwear, and take
them to my room. When we come up there, your nose had best be in a
corner."

Defeated. May said, "Yes,
sir," and turned away to obey, trudging up the stairs.

She hated the corner. It filled her with both dread and
boredom, and was a place for her thoughts to wander regarding her impending
punishment. She tried desperately to distract herself by drawing imaginary
animals in her mind using the indistinct lines
and
marks on the walls. The trick did not work. Nothing did. May was certain that
she was about to receive the worst spanking of her life, and knew that neither
Caine nor Layton would afford her the opportunity to allow her endorphins to
take control. Yes, she was going to really feel this one.

She heard the sound of dual footsteps
coming her way. The door creaked, announcing their presence, but May did not
dare look over at them. Her imagination soared, taking over the image that her
eyes could not see. Were they going through her bag again, hunting for more
contraband? Was Layton going to use his infamous belt the 'right way', a
punishment she had managed to avoid until now? She lamented over her careless,
thoughtless actions, and her stomach twisted with guilt for her lies.

Their silence disturbed her. Her mind was plagued with
paranoid thoughts about how she had failed them both, and fear that the
consequences would go beyond this spanking. Would they ever forgive her?

"Maybelle?" Caine said,
interrupting her thoughts.

"Yes, Daddy?" May said
sweetly, praying that he would find the need to be merciful. After all, it was
her first offense. Granted, an offense that Layton would describe as
'unpardonable'.

"Come here."

May turned around, suddenly
self-conscious. She covered herself as best as possible.

"I don't know why you bother with
that," he said, gesturing towards her movements. "We've been
intimately involved for over two months. I've seen it all before,
remember?"

His comment, just that simple
observation about her discomfort, sent another warm flush into her face.
Caine
pulled the straight backed chair away from the wall and May felt her heart
tumble into her stomach. It was not the pain she feared as much as his
disappointment. The AP relationship she shared with him was precious to
her—even on the occasions where she didn't use the title of 'daddy', it
was always an underlying theme between them. She looked at Layton pleadingly,
swallowing dryly as she met his cold, unwavering gaze. He was Dom through and
through, and she had no doubt that the pain he would likely deliver was
something to be fearful of. Her eyes dropped to the wide, heavy strip of
leather that sat snugly in the loops of his jeans, and May knew that this was
one stupid mistake that she would never repeat again.

"Bring me the wooden hairbrush
that Layton purchased for you, May."

May screwed up her face in confusion. Caine never used
implements! It dawned on her what he intended. She could not grasp why the
concept of Caine using the hairbrush on her was so frightening, given Layton's
penchant for paddles, but she felt her chest tighten.

"I'm begging you, Caine. Please!
If you have to spank me, just use your hand. I swear, I've learned my
lesson."

Caine
maintained an
unsympathetic expression, and pointed towards the bathroom. "You have to
the count of three, Maybelle."

Tears began to fall again and she
stayed put, frozen in shock and anxiety. "Please Daddy..." she
begged. "I'll be good. I promise. Please don't use the hairbrush!"

"You do realize that calling me
'daddy' is not going to make me change my mind about this. In fact, it helps to
remind me of my responsibility to you. I warn you, May, it would not be wise if
you forced me to get up and fetch it myself."

She
stood crying and
wiping the tears away, still pleading weakly.

"You know him better than that,
Maybelle," Layton said darkly. "Once his mind is made up, nothing
will sway him."

"If I count to three, and you
still haven't brought me that hairbrush, it's going to be much worse for you.
One..."

May released a louder whine.
"Daddy pleeease!"

"Two..."

Sick to her stomach, May ran
to the bathroom and grabbed the brush. She glanced at herself in the
mirror. She truly looked pathetic, with wet tears streaming down her cheeks and
a still pink bottom.

"Two and a half..."

"Coming!" May yelled,
returning to the bedroom. She chewed on her lower lip as she looked at Caine,
who was sitting in the chair and tapping his foot impatiently. She tiptoed
towards him, knowing in her heart that there was no delaying the inevitable.

"Hand it over, young lady."
The brush was transferred from her hands to his, and he pointed to an invisible
spot on the carpet. "Stand right here in front of me."

May sniffled as she stared at the
floor, clicking her fingernails nervously.

"So you understand why I am so
upset with you?" he asked, lifting her chin to look into her eyes.

"Yes, sir."

"I want to hear it."

May's lips quivered. "Because you care too much
about me for me to do something stupid with my health."

"Why else would we be upset?" Layton asked,
his voice the lowest that she had ever heard from him.

May gulped.
We?
Oh shit
… "Because I lied to you about it."

"I don't know how many times I've
commented on how smart you are, Maybelle. But to succumb to peer pressure at
your age? I said to look at me when I am talking to you." Caine took her
hands, turned them over, and kissed both her palms. "
Life is not kind to those who go
around doing dumb things in order to feel like they fit in. Sweetheart,"
his eyes filled with tears, "the last time you did something to fit in,
you were raped. Don't forget that lesson. Ever.
"