Friday, 7 July 2017

Daddy's Rules: The Rescue






Hello,

I have had a wild day!  My divorce is finally drawing to a close, contracts exchanged on my house and I am now moving to my own place and a new life next week.  I did want to write a sequel to Daddy's Rules based on the original characters but after today, I was inspired to write about new ones and events in my own life which I did in the original book.  On top of that, the pic of the model I used for Return To The Chateau seemed to fit more with the male character in Daddy's Rules:  The Rescue.








I hope that you enjoy the first part and if you haven't read the first, Daddy's Rules, remember you can early download the digital version straight to your Kindle and on to any other device now at Totally Bound Publishing's Website.  You can also pre-order the PRINT version and on Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk.  This book will be on general release on the 25th July.


Happy Reading!  Let me know if you enjoy it.

Arabella





Daddy's Rules:  The Rescue

I’d lost my home, my marriage and most of what I’d owned the day I met the man who would rule my existence and keep me safe.  My life had been raped.  All I had left was a pile of money and my freedom after years of confinement with one man since being a teenager.  I wanted to run away and hide, lick my wounds from the humiliation, the pain, loss, hurt and above all the anger.

I hadn’t known what to do with my powerful angry emotions swirling inside my mind until the day, Ottavio Sassano walked in to my world and tamed them with a firm guiding hand.  I am sure my life would have ended if he hadn’t.  I would have taken it just to still the raging noise in my head and stop the ache that swelled in my lonely broken heart.

It was the first night of the cruise around the Mediterranean on the exclusive Cassiano Ship from the world famous luxury Sassano Cruise line.  I had hoped to take the holiday with my daughter but she was busy living it up at a music festival with her friends from University and for the first time I was alone on holiday.  It had taken a lot of courage to book but I guessed I would be safe as a woman travelling alone on a Cruise ship full of people and I wouldn’t feel too alone.  How wrong I was.

I am the type of woman who normally attracts people who want a chat but I suppose my brooding and pain I did my best to hide just as I always did with my joker smile plastered all over my face to pretend it didn’t exist wasn’t quite staying in place this time.  I probably looked grumpy which is not an attractive trait as you know.  So I was alone.  I ate alone and I walked the promenade deck alone.

I think it was the couple kissing and laughing together in their formal wear, he in his black tuxedo and she young, attractive, slender and tall in a long blue chiffon evening dress covered in sparkling crystals that set my mood off.  It was a painful diatribe that went through my head every time the black cloud above me descended.

“I wish I was dead,” my inner voice hissed at me.  “Look at her.  She’s beautiful.  Compared to her you are nothing.  No wonder he left you.”

I hurried away feeling the pressure of tears in my eyes as I listened to the couple laugh and giggle.  In true dramatic style I threw myself in to a dark corner at the back of the ship and clutched at the rail looking down at the sea clothed in black underneath the dark evening sky.  Not even the majestic cluster of brightly shining stars and the large moon gleaming silver on top of the water’s surface could rouse me from the feverish anger at myself beginning to swirl and build inside me.  I fiercely clung to the rail gritting my teeth to stop me from lashing out in anger to slap at my head or scratch at my skin in an angry frenzy.

This need to self abuse hadn’t just been started by a failed marriage but with my long term physical ill health and other complications from my past.  To say it was anger was incorrect, it was pure fury.  I’d really hoped that while on holiday my low mood would have eased but here it was following me in to my new life.

Everything sank inside me.  I couldn’t take anymore.  When would the torture end?  It was all very Titanic I decided as I found myself climbing up on to the rail in my black high heels and long black evening dress.  I couldn’t believe I was actually considering ending my life.  The water churned white beneath me with the movement of the propeller.  If I jumped I wouldn’t just drown I would be caught up in it.  Would I really do that to myself?

“Do it.  Do it.  You are worth nothing.  It’s over.  I can’t take any more pain and rejection.  Please stop hurting me and end it,” the small voice in my head pleaded.

I thought of my daughter but she didn’t need me anymore.  I had done my work.  Now she was off at University and starting her new life on her own.  What did she need me for?

“Do it.”

I was breathing hard as I leaned over on the rail.  This was the closest I had come to letting go and actually ending my life.  The courage to perform the solitary lonely act had never quite been there before but now I knew the grass was not greener on the other side of an abusive relationship and divorce, I appeared more willing to seek sanctuary in it.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.  Despite the warm air out here, the water is freezing,” a male voice said with a trace of light humour in his tone.

I ignored him listening to my heart thud inside my chest.  But he didn’t appear to want to give up.  I heard his footsteps come closer.  It made me frantic.

“Please leave me alone,” I hated hearing the tears in my voice.

“No, I won’t.  Let me help you down from there,” this time I could hear the hint of Italian in his soft coaxing voice.  “What would make you so determined to hurt yourself,” he asked with concern resting his large cool male palm on my bare arm to soothe it up and down my flesh.  I stole a glance at it feeling instant warmth and a small amount of reassurance flicker inside my icy heart.  But it wasn’t to last.  Hadn’t I felt that before from a man only to find it was a lie?

“I asked you to leave me alone,” I almost screamed at him.  I was really losing it this time.  There was no going back.

That was when he tugged at my arm.

“I don’t know who hurt you but it isn’t worth death,” he said firmly.

I turned to glare at him.  He had a beautiful handsome face.  He was younger, classically Italian with his dark looks, raven hair.  The only surprise was that his eyes were a deep blue instead of brown.  I had never seen such a handsome man.  It was a pity he had arrived so late to provide me with attention in my life.  I wanted to laugh at the irony.  Is this what I had to do to get a man’s attention now?

“Come down now or I will lift you down,” he warned as though speaking to a naughty child.

“I will not.  Who are you to tell me what to do with my life?” I questioned with authority leaning further over the rail.

My breath caught in my throat as I leaned over a little too far still unready.  A curious sensation of falling enveloped me and my whole body froze in terror in the moment.  I heard myself cry out but the stranger’s strong arms where around my waist lifting me away from the rail.  He set me down on the floor and started to march me away from the rail.  My anger returned with a vengeance at his rough handling.  I hit out at his arm trying to pull away from his grasp.

“Let me go.”

“No.  You need a drink and to talk to someone,” he insisted.

That was when Ottavio was treated to the first appearance of my temper.  I might as well have turned green and become the incredible hulk.  I hit my fists against his body like a crazy woman but what he did next was to surprise me.  With a heavy sigh he dipped his tall lean athletically muscled frame and pulled me neatly over his shoulder and carried me back out on to the deck in front of everyone walking around the ship.  I was incensed.  Forgetting my audience of sniggering party goers, I kicked like a mule at his chest and screamed at him.

He walked slowly and confidently down the deck in through one of the doors leading to the inside and then in to the lift.  Thankfully we were alone at that point but it still didn’t stop my behaviour.  That was the first time I received a quick spanking.  His hand suddenly slapped at my clothed backside.  The strike was so hard and punishing it managed to make my poor bottom burn through the material of my dress.  I yelped loudly.

“Enough,” he demanded spanking the second cheek of my bottom twice more.  “Keep still.”

“How dare you?” I screamed.

But he was to ignore me.  He carried me along a small corridor and then in through a door.

“Ah good evening, Mr Sassano,” a quipped English male voice said.  “Will you be needing anything tonight?”

“No, Mark. Thank you.  You may leave,” he said elegantly holding on to my still struggling form that was threatening to knock me from his shoulder and us both to the floor.  It would be later before I realised the relevance of the man’s name.

The door behind us opened and closed and we were alone.  Finally, I was being lowered to the floor.  I wasted no time at pushing the man away.  My eyes darted to the door behind him as he stood in front of me.  I lunged to the side trying to escape but he brought me back.

“Oh no.  You aren’t going anywhere.  I am not letting you out of my sight.  You need to be taken in hand, little one.”
“I am not your damn, little one.  Now let me go unless you intend me to scream kidnap,” I threatened.

He laughed.

“You aren’t going anywhere.  Now calm down or I will throw you over my knee and spank you like a child,” he told me darkly, that fatherly tone in his voice once more.

It was the wrong thing to do and I was suddenly flinging myself at him ready to do battle to secure my freedom.  Big mistake.  He caught my fragile body and fought to pull my arms to my side.  Before he could, I swung my hand at him and swiped the side of his face hard.  He let go of me and rubbed his face, his eyes darkening and brow furrowing.  Even then in all of that chaos I couldn’t help how thinking how attractive he looked and if I was honest menacing.  It turned me on to my surprise.  I wanted him to frighten me and he was succeeding.

I didn’t know the man or how he would react.  My natural instinct was to run despite my strange feelings before he decided to take his revenge.  But he was too quick for me.  Before I knew it he was grabbing my arms and forcing them to my sides.  Then he took hold of the front of my dress that dipped across my large breasts and began to tear my dress open from my cleavage down.

“Are you going to rape me?” I screamed terrified as he forcibly tore the dress from my body and I struggled to stop him.

“No just teach you a lesson about living.”

It didn’t take him long to rip the garment from me and I have to be honest and confess a part of me was aroused.  He left me in my black bra and panties completely at his mercy.  I rushed to cover myself dismayed yet elated as his eyes swept over my small curved form with appreciation.  Then he spun me around and with one swift movement tucked his fingers down the top of my silk panties and yanked them down to my knees.  He pushed me over the top of the small dining table in the large room and undid my bra.  My efforts to restrain him from pulling it away from my breasts was in vain.  He appeared to have done this many times before.  My bra was lying on the floor next to my feet before I knew it.  He pushed me down on to the top of the polished mahogany surface.  The wood felt cool next to my breasts as the dark puckered tips became erect and scraped the surface.  He twisted my head to the side so that one half of my face rested on the table and raised his hand. 

My left buttock quivered under the pressure of the first slap from his hand.  Then the spanking really began in earnest and my body and pussy was jumping against the table as he took it in turns to strike first one buttock then the other.  It was so hard my bottom stung with heat immediately.  Every spank forced a tormented cry from my lips.  The rage scorched through my body and erupted out in to the air as he tamed it with each blow.  Once or twice he turned to hit the lower part of my rump with the back of his hand as I sobbed, growled and howled before whipping his palm across the tender backs of my thighs in turn.

“Who are you to do this to me?” I shouted in intervals trying to catch my breath above the pain.

“Ottavio Sassano.”

“A member of the Sassano family who own this ship and the line?”


“The owner.  At your service, little one,” he said removing his hand from my face to pull my hair falling from its pinned prison until my face and chest lifted from the table while he continued to spank the anger from me.

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