Page 22 of Shared on the Ranch

Chyanne was now bending over at the waist again, holding her ankles.

He lifted the bar of soap he held and got a nod of approval from Chandler. He approached their wayward charge and put it under her nose. “Open,” he ordered.

“What… but…”

“Language,” he answered succinctly. “And for every second you leave me waiting, you get an extra swat.”

“But—”

Aaron effectively ended her protest by shoving the bar of soap inside her mouth. “Bite down, and don’t let it fall, or else.”

* * *

Chyanne

This was it. She was in hell. Soapy, stingy hell with two of the hottest men standing over her, watching while she struggled to keep the slippery bar clenched between her teeth.They’re enjoying this.She wished she could glare at them, but the acrid taste of the soap was burning her mouth, which in turn was making her eyes tear up.

They might both be hotter than sin, but they were also her own personal torturers.Fuck. If she could turn back time, the second she had seen that ad she would have closed out of it and kept looking. Hell, being a cashier at McDonald’s would be better than this.

That’s what I should have done. I should have applied to McDonald’s and worked there until I got back on my feet. I could be on break right now, eating my fill of delicious, golden fries instead of soap bubbles.

At first, it had been the soap that was the punishment—she hadn’t thought it was so bad to be bent over. But the more that time dragged on, the more uncomfortable the position became. First, Chyanne’s arms grew heavy. Then they began to ache. As she concentrated on staying silent despite this new brand of punishment, she really began to feel the burn in her ass. Having two parts of her body aching, each in its own awful way, made her facade begin to drop despite her first efforts.

Damn, this sucks. How much longer am I going to have to stand here like this?

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, something else began to happen. Her eyes began to prickle, then burn as she tried to fight back the tears that threatened.

I’m not going to do this. They don’t deserve the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

But no matter what her mind might say, her body was telling another story. Her arms began to get heavier and the more they wore her down, the more she noticed the fire moving across her tender rear.

It was too much. This entire day… the way she’d arrived, broke, tired, and penniless, and the drama that had unfolded right after her arrival…

She was wishing with every fiber of her being that she had never gotten that damn bus ticket in the first place. She would have saved herself so much trouble. She certainly wouldn’t be standing here, arms weighing her down like slabs of lead, waiting for some arbitrary permission that now she began to worry would never come.

And then what? How could you be so stupid to get yourself into this kind of position? Only an idiot would wait for—

And that’s when the tears fell. They were an angry, hot torrent streaming down her cheeks before she even realized the first had fallen.

“Now she’s ready.”

She heard the words, but she couldn’t make any sense of them, not even when she was led over Chandler’s lap again. Then his hand was caressing her naked, trembling flesh and she winced.

“Be a good girl,” he murmured in a warm, soothing voice. “Take your spanking like a good girl, and we’ll be done here.”

She didn’t know what he meant—she was crying too hard, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.With each tremor that ran through her body, she had to dig her teeth deeper into the bar of soap for fear of dropping it.

But when his hand came down on her upturned bottom, the picture began to come together real fast.

She had thought she was in sheer agony mere moments ago, but as Chandler resumed spanking her with his Goliath paddle-like hand, she knew a new level of pain. It was different this time, somehow. It felt like she’d had shields up before, and now that they’d fallen she felt—trulyfelt—every butt-flattening scorcher that he delivered.

They piled on atop another until her skin felt singed by the fire she was convinced he kept locked in his fingertips.

Chyanne hated crying. Hated the way it made her eyes puffy, the way it tired her out so completely, the way her nose dripped, the way she was a snot-nosed, wet-haired mess.

But she hated begging even more. In fact, her number one rule for herself wasneverto beg, under any circumstance. It was the first of the only two rules she lived by. But it didn’t stop her mouth from opening and traitorous pleading to begin emitting from trembling lips.

“Please!” she cried out, only dimly aware of the soap falling out of her mouth and to the carpet. She was so desperate to make the pain stop, she didn’t even care. “I’m sorry!” she shrieked as his hand fell again, perfectly cupping one cheek before punishing the next in exactly the same manner. “Please, stop! I’ll do a-an-anything!” she wailed.

---