My Little Runaway

She laughed. "They're building an even taller one. It's like a skyscraper. I guess they're going to let anyone to the top. The name is Stratos...something weird like that. You'll have to come back when it opens."

I stepped up to the window, still entranced with the pyramid. I broke away and observed the street below me. My eyes snapped back to the pyramid when I saw a woman on her knees, servicing a man in the alley.

"Is this city that crazy?" I asked.

It was as if Brittany said those words through me. I remember her asking me that every time she saw something wild in the streets of New York. She didn't seem offended. She just shook her head as if she was used to being surrounded by sin although she disapproved of it.

Lydia joined me. "Believe it or not, these people are the normal ones," she said, referring to the participants in the blowjob in the alley. "There are some here trying evangelize everyone and save the world. I don't know why they keep coming. They're brave and stupid 'cause they keep getting shut out."

A glimmer of a memory flickered in my mind. But it was fleeting, and I couldn't keep up with it.

She kept speaking as I followed the trail of the disappearing recollection. "Like there's this one guy -- sort of a local legend. Preaching Pete. Talk about being on a mission for salvation! He's somewhat nice and reasonable on some days. Others, he's uptight and all fire and brimstone." She smirked. "One of his goals is to get to the top of the pyramid and shout the word to the people."

I turned back to her as the memory I was grasping for became clear.

I remember many sirens had passed by my window. Something exciting was happening a few blocks away. My little fan, turned up to the highest setting, tried to cool Brittany and me. We were both naked and over the sheets. She stroked my chest as she laid her head in the crook of my arm. Neither of us could sleep. My massive boner was preventing me from rest. She suddenly stopped running her nails over my abs and pulled away.

"What's wrong, kiddo?"

She tucked her arm in and cuddled next to me. "Homesick."

"What are you missing?"

It took her a while to answer. "I miss my family."

I closed my eyes. I didn't want to hear those words. I was afraid at that moment that I was going to lose her. "Tell me about them," I said without thought. I just wanted to keep her sweet voice talking.

Her drowsiness was kicking in. Her speech was hesitant. "I wonder if Papa made it to the top of the pyramid."

"What pyramid?" I said and laughed. Her cryptic speech always entertained me.

"The one that's all lit up. We can see it from our porch. He stares at it all the time."

I held her tighter. "Silly girl. Talking nonsense again. Did I whip you a little too hard earlier?"

Her response was to kiss the side of my torso and breathe deeply as she fell asleep.

I understood what she was trying to tell me all along. She was going to go back. Nothing was going to stop her. But the hints she dropped, the sometimes obvious clues that I ignored, should have alarmed me to her intentions. She wanted me to find her. She needed me to search for her.

Lydia was studying me with a strange look on her face. I sat next to her. "Do you know where the preacher lives?"

"On the outskirts but not exactly where..." She saw the look on my face. "Oh! You found her!" Her eyes lit up and smiled encouragingly at me. I stood and pressed my palm to the window. She was somewhere out there and not far away at all. Lydia stood next to me. "Tomorrow I will help you find her. I don't have to be at work until evening." I nodded, submitting to logic. There was nothing I could really do until the sun rose.

~

When I woke up, Lydia was already up. Phone to her ear, she smiled at me and twirled her finger around the cord. I used the bathroom and came out as she put the phone down.

"I made a few calls. I might have an idea where she is." She waved at me to come closer. On the desk was a map of Las Vegas. "There's a huge property, a ranch, where the preacher and his family live. It's just right out of town. No one knows exactly what they do there. But I guess it's huge and hard to miss."

My heart started thudding in my chest. My mind became foggy. I didn't know what to say to her if I found her. My nerves made my mouth dry. I filled a cup with water and chugged it down. Lydia watched me fidget then gave me a warm smile.

"You better hurry up and get decent."

I trembled and sighed. My fear haunted me. What if she denied who I was? What if she ignored me? How would I explain who I was to her father?

My anger of her running away grew stronger. The furs and pearls she stole were my leverage against her. She wasn't expecting me and the fury I brought with me. She had to pay. I had to make sure of that.

I couldn't sit still as we circled Vegas, searching for the ranch. Every once in a while, I checked the strip to make sure the pyramid was still in view.

"Could this be it?" Lydia pointed off the road. I snapped back from the pyramid to the ranch. She pulled up to the front gate. I got out and shielded my eyes from the morning sun. I saw cattle and horses in the distance and a modest house not that far away. I saw a woman, in a plain dress, and carrying a basket walk into the front door. My heart pounded wildly. I had no idea if it was her, but I knew I was in the right place. No one dressed like that in Vegas.

I turned to Lydia, smiling, and leaned in through the window. "Thank you for all of your help."

"No problem." I turned my head back to the ranch. "Want me to wait for you?"

I shook my head. "Naw, it's ok. I'll just walk back to the city. It's not that far."

"I hope everything works out for you."

I reached my hand in and shook hers. "Thanks again."

With a smile, she put her car into drive. "Good luck."

I waved as she drove off and turned to the gate. It was open a quarter of the way. I took that as an invitation to go up to the house. As I walked along the dusty driveway, the desert sun made my already perspiring body worse. I felt dizzy from its heat and from my nervousness. I realized that I would have to explain myself to her father. He suddenly became the most intimidating man on this world.

As I approached the house, I wiped my palms on my pants and took a deep breath. I was hoping she would be the one to answer the door. I was hoping that she was at least there. I rang the bell and hung my head. Twenty seconds later, the door opened halfway. It wasn't the girl of my dreams staring back at me. It was a man in his sixties eyeing me dubiously. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for Angela."

His eyes narrowed and looked me up and down. "What business do you have with Angela?"

As I was about to answer, something caught his eye behind him. He looked back briefly then back to me. The door closed a little more. His body blocked my view into their home.

"I, um, met her in New York." His eyes squinted more, but he waited patiently for me to continue. I exhaled, straightened my back, and looked him in the eye. "I believe she has some things of mine."

His hand tightened on the door. "Like what?"

"Furs, pearls, some risqué attire."

He shook his head. "My daughter wouldn't be touching those things."

I stood taller. "Well, when she left to come back here, suddenly all of those items went missing from my apartment. They were quite expensive. I remember, the day before, she mentioned that she needed money to get back home." Her father turned back again. "I know she stole them. I have no idea what she did with them, but those were several paychecks worth of valuables." His eyes met mine; they were full of disbelief and shock. "I want them back."

The door opened a little more as he turned to the entryway. "There has to be a mistake. My daughter isn't a thief. She knows better than to do something like that."

I looked past him to the interior of the house. My little runaway stood rigid and frightened. When her eyes settled on me, they were full of anger, shock, and fear. I couldn't believe she was the same woman. Her faded, pink dress covered all and her lovely, shiny hair was in a dull braid. She couldn't have been the naughty girl I once knew.

"Did you steal these...items...from this man?" her father asked with wide, terrified eyes. Hers were wider. "Answer me, Angela."

She could have lied and denied who I was and probably would have gotten away with it. Her father was having trouble comprehending that his angelic daughter would do such a thing. But she swallowed hard. "I did, Papa." I swore his eyes popped out of his head.

My anger hadn't subsided at her confession. "Where are they?" I asked evenly.

The fear paralyzed her to speechlessness. "Angela..." her father warned her.

"I," she said in a small voice, "I threw them in the river."

Her father exhaled sharply and ran his hand over his balding head. His lips tightened as he looked at her. He turned back to me. "I am very sorry for my daughter's actions. Please, tell me how much the items were worth, and I will work on paying you back."

"That won't be necessary," I said, glaring at her.

"I believe all debts and sins need to be paid."

She trembled as I spoke. "I want her to pay." Before he had a chance to speak, I cut him off. "Sir, I would like permission to punish your daughter." He raised an eyebrow. I checked on Angela. Her pale skin was whiter than ever. Her father looked back to me. I could see his mind was considering my proposition.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked and folded his arms in front of his chest.

I had to lie. It was my only chance. "I grew up in a very conservative household such as yours. Although I may not seem to be the type, I find myself constantly going back to my family's ways. Now, when I was a child, everyone including my mother, ended up over my father's knee if we broke the rules. That is how we dealt with sins and debts." Angela looked ready to faint. "I don't know what happens in your home, but the debt would be settled if you allow me the opportunity to give her the spanking I believe she deserves."

Her face was flushed. She took a step back. I kept my face as serious as possible. "Please, Papa, don't let him." He turned back to me, head cocked, still contemplating. It was my only chance. I didn't have a Plan B. He nodded, slowly, searching my soul. It seemed that he approved of and trusted me.

"You may use the shed. You have fifteen minutes."

"Papa!" she protested. He turned to her with a glare and let me in. I smirked as I grabbed her arm. "Papa, don't! Please!" With a firm grip, I dragged her out the door. She glanced back at him as if he betrayed her.

I found the shed in the distance and headed for it. "You really got yourself into this one...Brittany," I said, still grinning with sarcasm.

"How did you find me?" she asked, her voice full of disdain.

"You should know. You left me the clues." She exhaled in a short huff and tried to keep her head up. "Why did you leave?"

"Why do you think?" she snapped.

"I thought you were happy with me."

"I was," she said, trembling.

My anger only increased. "Then why did you leave?"

"I had to go back to my family." I shook my head, not satisfied with her answer and kept towing her along. "You seriously aren't going to spank me, are you?"

"What do you think?" I mocked her. "You suddenly just left. I need to get my fix. You need it too no matter how hard you try to repress it." My grip made her yelp. "And I'm pissed that you threw away those gifts."

"Please don't," she whined.

"Stop faking it. I know you're fucking wet," I said and threw her in the shed. I closed the door partly to keep in some light. I saw an old, gone-to-hell couch inside amongst gardening supplies and wood.

Tears in her eyes, she turned to me. "Please don't."

"What are you afraid of?" I asked and held her wrists. She stomped her foot and tried to break away from my grasp. "What?" I asked louder.

"I'm afraid of falling in love with you again!" Her tears fell quickly down her blushing cheeks.

My eyes closed. "Brittany -- Angela -- you broke my heart. It wasn't fair. You have to pay for that."

She violently trembled. "I can't do this."

"Why?"

"Because I'll like it."

"And why is that a problem?"

"I'll want to be back with you."

"So?"

"I can't go back to the sin."

"That's not the real truth. What is it really?"

She managed to break away and wrap her arms around her. "It was fun. But I'm humiliated at the thought that I love being spanked by you." She ducked her head. "It's not natural."

I cupped her face in my hand. "The only one who knows is me. And I don't care. I love it. I love doing it with you."

"And the sex we had..." She moaned, recalling every sinful thing we did together.

"It was meant to be. We were meant to be. And I'm not leaving without you."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not going. And nothing you can do or say can convince me."

I leaned in and snarled into her ear. "Wanna bet?" I equaled her glare and caught her wrist. She tried to tug away as I led her to the couch.

"Nooo ..." she whined knowing her fate was sealed and that I was much stronger. Pinning her down wouldn't be a problem. I sat, and in the same motion, threw her over my lap. Her arm twisted behind her to block me, just as she did the first she was bent over my knees. I held her wrist to her back in a strong embrace. "Don't you dare!"

Her tantrum was wearing on my nerves. I flipped her skirt over her back. Her legs started to kick when she realized I was going to strip away any protection from my open palm. She grunted and squealed, kicked and squirmed, and I hadn't started. I bunched up the slip and yanked her panties down with one hand to her knees. Her perfect, petite ass was exposed and waiting to be colored to a rosy hue. My cock was hardening as it wiggled back and forth.

"Stop struggling, love. It will only make it hurt more."

She jerked violently. "You better not fucking put your hands on me!"

"Whoa! There's the bad girl I remember!" I could see her transform before me. Her internal devil was strongly tempting her to submit. I knew she wanted it. And I knew once I got started, she wouldn't be able to resist. I stuck my hand in between her legs and swiped her slick clit. Her body tensed, and she moaned. I laughed. She was wetter than she had ever been. "I know you better than anyone. Don't think you can fool me."

I lifted my arm, then lifted it higher. It wasn't a sensual spanking. It was punishment. I had to make it hurt. I had to let her know how pissed I was.

I dropped my arm and smacked the left side with a loud crack. She jerked under the first slap and then calmed her body. I heard a soft, drawn out moan. Her breathing then came in quick huffs. I knew her cunt was leaking. My handprint burned brightly on her ass. Before, I would have rubbed it a little to help with the pain. But my anger was still brewing within me. I was determined to make her cry in pain and remorse.

Two seconds later, I brought my raised hand down on the right side. She squeaked and her breathing had not changed. My girl was in heat and welcomed both slaps. I struck her again. After each couple seconds, I landed another spank to her blushing behind. I took my time, gradually building up to a second between each slap. The severity of the spanking slowly increased.

At ten strikes, she started to tremble as her rage returned. "Stop. I don't want to do this." I knew what she was frustrated about. The slow and steadiness teased her.

"I know you like it hard and fast, but I'm not spanking you to make you happy. You're being punished. And I'm going to take my time. I've got ten minutes." I struck her harder than I ever had before. My palm stung. Her yelp was almost a scream. "Don't worry. I'll be going hard and fast soon. And you won't be sitting for quite some time after."

She made an exasperated 'tuh.' It was a challenge. I ignored her rudeness and started in on her again. I smacked her, hard, one for every two seconds. She grunted and shifted. It was already the hardest she had to endure. And her pleasure seemed to dissipate as the whipping got harder. I felt her body jolt. I could feel that she was ready to take off running.

My grip on her arm was tight. I squeezed it as a warning not to try anything. I kept spanking her hard and steadily. I wasn't ready to bring true fury upon her ass.

"OW!" Her cries got louder. I could tell by her voice she was in pain, yet it wasn't close to tears. Solidly continuing, I finished warming her up with three very hard smacks. Her hand gripped my leg. She screamed a little. She trembled and gulped. Her hand let go.

"Are you ready?" I asked.

"For what?" she snapped. Obviously, she felt no guilt. She pressed her palm to the ground, about to push herself up.

"For me to start."

"What?" she squeaked in shock. While she was busy trying to find a way off my lap, I laughed sadistically. "I hate you! I will not just lie here and take it!"

I laughed harder. "No you don't and you will." I leaned over her. "Just submit, Brittany." She sniffled, about to cry in anger. "Angela..." I growled in her ear just as deep and unnerving as the devil himself.

"Go to he-OW!" she screamed as I furiously brought my arm up and down across her marked ass. "No! Stop!"

I drowned out her cries with the quick popping noises of the smacks. My lips tightened. My eyes narrowed on the cherry-colored blotch. I put my full concentration and effort into overlooking my tingling palm.

"I hate you!" she yelled and reminded me at least ten times during the spanking. I responded with strong slaps that promised bruises. No tears had dropped. Her stubbornness was stronger than I had ever imagined. Little petulant screams that perfectly mimicked spoiled four-year-old girls came spewing from her mouth. It fueled me to keep going. Her immaturity and high-pitched wails made me wince. Her heated ass should have produced tears. I underestimated her will. The ugly side of her was unattractive.

My sweet yet provocative young woman was replaced by a squirming, childish, brat who began cussing at me. Her true nature came through with each 'fuck you' she hurled at me. The monster I had pinned over my knee was getting louder. I felt myself losing. I promised tears, yet I was closer to producing them because of the pain in my hand. I focused more intensely.

Smack! "I fucking hate you!" Smack! "Go to hell!" Smack! "You're an asshole!"

I gritted my teeth and blocked out the pain of my numbing hand. I was never going to let her win.

A sharp pain scraped my shin. The brat scratched my leg. Her nails clung onto the wound, close to drawing blood. I yelped and she laughed the most sinister snicker I had ever heard from a woman. I took my beaten hand and yanked on her braid. I brought her hair back, exposing her neck. She shrieked in fear then in pain at the sharp tug. She went silent.

"Want me to take my belt off and spank you with that too?" I screamed loud enough to possibly reach the house. She trembled. It was the signal that meant I won. I felt her submit to my threat. She knew she had nowhere to go. She knew it would only get worse. She knew that I was pissed and wouldn't hold back. Her head shook violently. "That's what I thought." The authority I had over her felt amazing. The playful spankings meant nothing now. The roughness was what I have craved but was too afraid to try with her. It caused a painful erection. I shoved her head down.

My palm was killing me. I shook the pain out and started again. I smacked her again and again as fast as possible. Her yelps reduced to dry sobs. She quivered, trying to cry. I was hearing only smack, smack, smack and very little of her.

"Cry, Brittany," I whispered. "Do it."