"This is something that should have been done years ago," Sloan stated, striping her again. "Cry as much as you want; I am not going to stop until you have learned a valuable lesson about safety, manners and consideration. Your aunt did you no favors in allowing you to keep your skirts on when you were punished. Having your skin wet will also make this strapping a bit more unforgettable for you, as well. How dare you disobey me and put your life in jeopardy!" "I'm sorry!!" Blair called out, fighting not to fall onto her head as she kicked her feet wildly. "I am sorry!" "Oh, I promise that you certainly will be one very sorry little girl by the time I am done teaching you this lesson," Sloan's belt landed a third time, searing into the soft flesh. "In fact, I plan on making you so tender that you won't consider picking up another glass of whiskey or talking with strangers again for a very long time." "I beg of you, no more!" Blair sobbed. "No more?" The strap landed in a loud splat across her bright crimson swells, "Your problem is that you have no recollections of a thick leather strap across your backside to help shift your rebellious behavior towards proper obedience. After today, this moment that you and I are spending together will be a permanent part of your memory." "OW! Dear Lord, please …" "Keep up your prayers, girl." Sloan strapped her twice more. "You are gonna need them to help you sit." He swung three more times, splaying the heavy belt over the lighter portions of her trembling bottom. He paused, running his hand over her dark red skin. "These welts are going to be with you for a few days. Do I need to continue, or have you learned something here?" "No, Sloan," Blair wept, sagging limply over the rough barrel. "Please forgive me. It was a foolish thing I did. I am so sorry." "Forgive you?" Sloan repeated, patting her bottom before he slipped his belt back into the loops of his trousers and buckled it closed. "This is not a matter of me forgiving you. It is about you taking care to protect yourself. Better the pain comes from me than from someone who doesn't care. Keep your hands off that bottom. I want you to feel that strapping for a while." "You care?" Blair sniffed as he pulled her to her wobbly feet. "Why would you care about me? I am nobody to you. A nothing." Sloan sat on the barrel and pulled her to stand between his knees. He handed her his neckerchief. "Wipe your eyes. Yeah, I care.
