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(This is one of two stories I wrote in response to a prompt for a Halloween BDSM story writing contest. It does contain sex as well as spanking. The prompt had to do with knocking in a dark mine.)

Scarlett knew she should leave now that she had what she'd come for--the bottle of Hannisville Rye Whiskey from 1863. Her cousin had offered her $200,000 for it and told her exactly where she could find it.

When she'd learned of its history, she knew she was getting short-changed, but she desperately needed the money. The rye had been aged in oak barrels for 50 years in Philadelphia before being sold off to the US ambassador of Great Britain, John Welsh. He'd passed it down in his family for generations until it was auctioned off. One of the two carboys had gone to Singapore, the other's whereabouts was unknown. But supposedly a single bottle had made its way to California.

Her cousin had assured her that the house was abandoned, but no one went near it because it was rumored to be haunted. She ought to be able to get in and out easily. He was right. This was one of the simplest jobs she'd ever done. The locks on the odd, old hillside house were worn and easy to pick. The cellar, for all the riches it held, wasn't even locked.

When she'd researched the job, she'd learned that the house had been built over the entrance to an old gold mine, now closed for nearly a century. Reynolds Auger, an eccentric millionaire who had retired at age 40 after making it big in Silicon Valley, held the deed.

And while Scarlett knew she should leave, the stone door at the back of the wine cellar enticed her. It was the only interior door she'd found that was locked. It was covered in carvings, with a large triskelion shape within a circle at its center. It was a symbol she felt should mean something to her, but she couldn't figure out why.

Finally, she shrugged and gave in to temptation, determining that a little freelancing couldn't hurt now that she had what she'd been hired to steal. The lock was far superior to the one on the outer door, but after a few minutes, she was able to pop it open.

Entering, she was surprised to find a long corridor with a dirt floor and old, disused wooden rail tracks stretching out into the darkness. Using her cell phone's flashlight, she looked around and saw that the passageway was filled with footprints. It might be old, but it was well-used.

Heading down the passageway, she wondered whether this was some sort of vault that Reynolds used to keep the valuables she didn't find in the house. She'd walked some ways, the darkness of the abandoned mine closing in around her when she was startled to hear a knocking.

It was the banging of wood against stone, a rapping sound. Scarlett swallowed, shivering a bit. It ought to be a warning to turn back, to leave immediately, back to the safety of her car and the paycheck waiting for her.

She then grimaced. She was letting ghost stories and the dark scare her. No, she was in this far, she should see what the knocking was, find out whether there were any treasures or lost gold down here to enrich her trip.

Turning a corner, she saw a door halfway down the passageway, a door that was slightly ajar and blocking the path beyond. Flickering light leaked out from the room beyond. She was certain the knocking was coming from that direction. Moving quietly, she stepped up to the door and peeked in.

Her eyes widened in surprise and alarm. Reynolds was not out of town after all. He was the one responsible for the knocking noise, for it was the headboard of an antique, king-sized bed hitting the wall as he enthusiastically fucked a naked woman who was on her hands and knees on the bed.

At least, she guessed that it was Reynolds, his salt-and-pepper hair cut neatly at the collarbone, sculpted muscles straining from his arms as he held the woman's hips and thrust strongly into her shapely ass.

Scarlett quickly turned, knowing she needed to escape before they were done. She'd not gone more than two steps before she heard the door behind her slam and two hefty hands grab her arms. She struggled and tried to pull away, but the hulking figure behind her had a firm grip and he dragged her back, reopening the door and pulling her into the room.

"Hey, boss," said the gravelly voice of the man who had ahold of her. "Look what I found lurking in the hallway."

Reynolds thrust one more time and then glanced over his shoulder. Frowning, he turned away from the woman, patting her on her ass and getting up off the bed.

His wet, glistening cock pointed at Scarlett, his chest heaving as he walked over with an angry look on his face. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Scarlett set her lips, refusing to say anything.

"Dimitri, search her," he said abruptly, his eyes cold.

With one hand still holding her forearm firmly, Dimitri began a rough search of her. In a matter of moments, he'd flipped out her identification and found the bottle of whiskey she'd stolen.

Reynolds looked carefully at her driver's license and then hard into her eyes, "So, Scarlett Giha, you're a thief as well as an intruder and Peeping Tom. Whatever shall I do with you?"

She met his eyes with a fiery gaze but said nothing in response. A cold smile crept across Reynolds' face.

"Peachy, darling, come here a moment," he said, amusement entering his voice. The woman from the bed walked over to him. He took her hand and kissed it, "Look at what interrupted our fun. What do you think of her?"

"Reynolds?" she asked, somewhat confused, her pale figure glistening in the room lit by flames contained in old-fashioned lanterns.

"Well, we ought to turn this intruder over to the police, I suppose, but..." he turned and stroked Peachy's long red hair, tucking it behind her ear. "Perhaps she could be the reward I've been looking to give you, my girl."

Peachy smiled at him and then looked Scarlett up and down, "I would enjoy that, love."

Reynolds nodded and addressed Scarlett, "My pet finds you interesting, Scarlett Giha, so perhaps it is your lucky day. You get to make a choice. You can spend the next 24 hours down here fulfilling every depraved desire that my pet and I come up with, or my security officer here can drag you to the local constabulary and I'll press every charge I can think of against you in the hopes of getting you a nice long prison sentence."

Scarlett's eyes widened. He couldn't know it, but she already had a long rap sheet and was wanted in several states. He wouldn't even have to press charges for her to end up serving the next several decades in prison. One day of depravity was surely better than a prison sentence. And she was no virgin or prude.

"One day?" she said. "And then you'll let me go? Alive?"

"Oh, yes, very much alive. And while we may play rough, you'll be completely intact, with not even any loss of blood or permanent marks."

Scarlett nodded, "All right, I agree."

Reynolds nodded, "Let her go, Dmitri, but stand guard at the door to make sure she doesn't escape. You can come have a taste of her later."

Dmitri nodded, "Yes, Mr. Auger," he said, releasing her arm and quickly leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. Scarlett heard it lock behind her. She now had a chance to look around the room. In addition to the bed, there was a couch and armchair next to a fluffy, fur rug, and a wooden X against a wall, ropes tied to each extremity.

A bar stretched out across one corner, with old-fashioned glasses hanging above it. 

"Undress," Reynolds commanded abruptly. "Quickly."

Scarlett hesitated for the briefest of moments and then began to undress.

"Peachy, my girl, I'd like you to show Scarlett here what happens to those who behave as dreadfully as she has," Reynolds said.

Peachy nodded and took Scarlett by the wrist, tugging at her, "Come follow me, girl," she said.

Scarlett followed, trying to evaluate her situation and how to survive the next 24 hours. What did Reynolds mean by rough? Perhaps the best course for now was to pretend to desire to please them as much as possible so that they would be distracted from any sort of roughness.

They arrived at the couch and without a word, Peachy sat and expertly pulled Scarlett across her knees so that she lay face down across her thighs, her ass in the air and her face staring down at the wood-covered floor.

"Wait...what?" Scarlett cried out in confusion. "What are you doing?"

Peachy responded by slapping her soundly across her bottom, then following it up with two more slaps, one on each cheek.

"Wait, no!" Scarlett said, confusion washing over her. "You're...you're not going to spank me, are you?"

Reynolds, who had followed the two women over and now towered above them both, "She most certainly is going to spank you--and she'll spank you hard if she doesn't want me giving her a demonstration of how to do it on her own ass."

With that, Peachy placed a hand firmly on Scarlett's back and began spanking harder, raining slaps down all over the thief's bottom, sometimes focusing in a single spot, sometimes moving from cheek to cheek.

Scarlett soon began to squirm, the skin on her ass quickly setting fire. She began breathing heavily, trying to keep control. Peachy had looked slight and delicate, but her hand was firm and she had far more strength than she appeared to have.

After a few minutes, Reynolds stepped forward and Scarlett could hear him kissing Peachy above her. She went limp, hoping this meant her spanking was over. The two kissed long and passionately and then Reynolds said, "All right, my dear, I don't want your hand getting sore, but this intruder's bottom is barely warmed up. Why don't you make use of this lovely rosewood hairbrush of yours?"

Scarlett stiffened. She remembered once, many years ago, she had mouthed off to her older college roommate. He'd grabbed a hair brush and given her the one and only spanking of her life, He'd later apologized, but in the heat of the moment, he'd pinned her over his knee and spanked her long and hard--ensuring she wasn't able to sit for the next couple days. She had no desire to have a hairbrush get reacquainted with her ass.

But it appeared that no one here cared what she wanted and she felt the hairbrush pat her bottom a couple of times. Reynolds moved, and she suddenly felt two hands on her ankles, pulling her legs apart.

"I'll hold onto these, my girl, so she doesn't kick you...and to give you a much nicer view," Reynolds said.

The brush tapped again and then it came down hard on her right cheek. Scarlett cried out just before it landed again on her left cheek.

"Oh, no, please," she cried out, "Please don't use a hairbrush on me!"

"No?" asked Reynolds with amusement in his voice. "Would you rather I find a cane and give you one stripe for every dollar in value of that which you were trying to steal from me?"

Scarlett looked over her shoulder, horrified. Would he really beat her into unconsciousness, which is what that sort of caning would surely do. "N-no, please not that either," she sputtered.

"Very well, then," Reynolds said. "I think you'd better ask...no, beg..my pet to spank you so soundly that I'm convinced I don't need to take a cane to your ass."

Scarlett swallowed, shaking slightly, before speaking up, her voice wavering, "Please, Miss Peachy, I behaved terribly. I should not have stolen from you or intruded on your privacy. Will you please take your hairbrush to my bottom and give me a long, hard spanking until you both feel I've been sufficiently punished."

Peachy practically purred, "Oh, I do so prefer being on this side of the paddling," she said. "I will gladly give you the spanking of your life, one that you're sure to remember."

Before Scarlett could say another word, indeed, before she even processed what the woman holding her down had said, several hard spanks had peppered her bottom. The next several minutes were a blur as Peachy never paused, spanking Scarlett hard with the hairbrush, painting her bottom red and driving all coherent thought from her victim's head. Scarlett knew only that she'd cried out, apologized, begged for relief and then simply sobbed as the spanking continued without mercy,

She barely registered that the spanking was over until she realized Reynolds had let go of her legs and come and knelt on one knee in front of her. He lifted her by the chin and stared deep into her eyes, shadows seeming to flit through the dark pools above his nose.

She wasn't even sure if the next words she heard were only in her head or if he'd said them aloud, but a spooky, threatening voice echoed through her being slow and low, "The next time you even think of stealing something, such thoughts will summon me and I'll give you a spanking that makes this feel like a few love pats."

Scarlett's mouth fell open, but she said nothing. Surely, she thought, that was an empty threat. After 24 hours, she'd leave and never see this man or his "pet" again.

Before she had time to think, he had pulled her off Peachy's lap and was dragging her to the bed. He tossed her face down and again spread her legs, before climbing between them. His hand reached down and squeezed one of her sore, red cheeks, making her yelp.

"You interrupted me with my pet," he said. "I want some satisfaction now and you are going to give it to me. Am I understood?"

Scarlett swallowed hard, but answered, "Yes, sir...what do you want me to do?"

"Good girl," he said. "Lift your ass up. My girl has made it nice and hot for me and I'm going to fuck your little asshole until I'm nice and worn out."

Scarlett gasped, the sight of his long, thick cock still vivid in her memory. She lifted her hips and then said, "W-wouldn't you rather have my pussy? It's warm and wet...surely you'd like it more there."

Reynolds gave her two stinging smacks across both her ass cheeks. "I told you want I want, little miss thief. I don't need you to tell me what I'll enjoy. If I want pussy, then I'll take Peachy's."

He reached down and squeezed both her cheeks, again eliciting a yelp as he pulled them apart. Then he turned and said, "Peachy, darling? Why don't you go fetch Dmitri. We need to find a better use for Scarlett's mouth than having her make suggestions."

Scarlett groaned, but said nothing, as Reynolds took a finger and circled her puckered hole. He'd just pushed his finger in slightly when Dmitri came to the side of the bed and said, "You wanted me, sir?"

"Yes, my good man, this thief here doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut, so I'd like you to fill it with your cock. Give her a good face fucking while I attend to her asshole."

With that, he grabbed Scarlett's hair, wrapped it around his fist and pulled her front half up, "On your hands and knees, girl. You'd better be able to give a good blow job. If you don't finish Dmitri off before I'm done, I'll let him continue in your ass and then he can give you another good spanking for not properly pleasing him."

Scarlett lifted her eyes and blanched as she saw the guard unzip his pants and pull out a cock even larger than Reynolds'. She hoped she'd be able to please him--the last thing she wanted was another spanking on her throbbing ass, especially since his hands looked big and hard.

He knelt before her and Reynolds turned his finger in her ass, pushing in a little further, "I'll even give you a head start," he said, amusement in his voice. "But keep your hands on the bed, I want you using only your mouth."

Dmitri pushed his hips forward, the tip of his manhood bumping against her lips.

Scarlett's lips parted and her tongue darted out to taste him, swirling around him. She began to lick him slowly, hoping to arouse him with her teasing. When his breathing became heavier, she took his tip into her mouth, massaging it with her lips.

Reynolds removed his finger from her ass, replacing it with the tip of his cock, rubbing it back and forth between her cheeks, pushing at her entrance, making her tense up in concern. "Relax, girl. Relax and focus."

She tried to let her nether regions relax and then pulled Dmitri's hardness deeper into her wet mouth, eliciting a moan as she pressed her lips against his skin. She  tightened them around him, sucking, rolling him back and forth in her cheeks as he began to writhe with pleasure, reaching down to comb his fingers through her hair, urging her on with a gentleness that Reynolds lacked.

Meanwhile, the mine's owner pushed at her puckered entrance. He released her ass cheeks to grab her hips and then thrust in hard, piercing her body and filling her tight, hot tunnel.

She first gasped, her lips loosening and almost dropping Dmitri from her mouth, but then, recalling the urgency, she again closed her mouth around him and began to pick up the pace, moving a little faster, sucking, then pulling almost all the way out, pausing and diving back down.

She also surprised herself by finding herself squeezing her ass around Reynolds as her legs trembled at the rough treatment. As her ass twitched around him, he thrust slow and deep, pulling back and then pushing in again, starting a slow rhythm as he fucked her deep, growling low, "You are mine, now and I will soon mark you with my seed."

Scarlett shuddered, and then pulled Dmitri deeper into her mouth, swallowing and opening her throat, taking him in with enthusiastic energy. She pressed her tongue against his cock and felt him grow harder, felt the veins pulsing. He was close, but was he close enough?

Reynolds thrust harder now, faster, ravishing her, moaning as he did so. His fingers tightened on her hips and then, with a few sharp thrusts, he exploded deep inside her body, throbbing and pumping her full of cum. She felt herself burning as his heat entered her, her ass flaming on both the outside where she had been so soundly spanked and inside where his seed scorched through her.

With even more urgency, she thrust her mouth down deep on Dmitri's cock, feeling it enter her throat, to take the place of air. She swallowed hard, trying not to gag. With his cock deep in her throat, he surged, arching his back and letting out a primal cry as he came hard, pumping his juices into her throat and mouth.

She tightened her lips around his hardness, knowing without being told that he would want her to swallow, that letting anything escape would be frowned upon. He pumped and throbbed until his body was slowly drained and he pulled himself out of her mouth, leaning back against the headboard, breathing heavily.

Reynolds was still driving hard, thrusting, pulsing, shaking as he drained himself in her, loud animal moans filling the room. Scarlett lifted her hips, joining him in the percussion of his passion. Slowly, Reynolds began to relax, to still himself, holding himself inside her for a few quiet moments before finally pulling out and giving her a gentle smack on her bottom.

"Are you satisfied, Dmitri?"

The man grunted as he stood and began doing up his pants, "Thank you, sir, yes....shall I go back to guarding the door?"

"Yes, please, I think we'll play with this one a little more before we get some rest. I'll let you know when we have secured her so you can get some sleep as well."

Peachy arrived at the side of the bed, kissing Reynolds and then cleaning him up with a washcloth as Scarlett stayed on the bed, wondering what was going to happen next.

"Peachy, my dear," he said, "Why don't you go behind the bar and bring out those strawberries and chocolate we've been planning to share. Scarlett...go back over to the couch and get on your hands and knees in front of it. You can provide us with a table."

Scarlett groaned, but moved to do as she was told, hoping they would soon tire and her time of service would end.

She took up position and then watched the two of them as they fussed behind the bar, Peachy getting food and Reynolds pulling out two glass high balls. She rose to her knees and cried out in alarm as she saw him pull out the whiskey bottle she had come to steal and begin to open it.

"Stop!" she said, "Do you know how much that is worth?"

"Every penny of its worth," Reynolds said, giving her a hard stare and then continuing to open it and pouring a small amount of the rich liquid into each of the glasses. "Back on your hands and knees, girl. And be still, if you spill these glasses when they are on your back, I'm going to be very angry."

Scarlett whimpered and went back to her hands and knees, moaning inside at the complete failure of her mission and the loss of income that she needed so desperately.

The couple placed their food and drinks on her back, and then stretched out on the couch in each other's arms, kissing and whispering to each other. Occasionally they would reach out for a treat, eating and drinking lightly.

After several minutes, she heard Peachy laugh as Reynolds whispered something in her ear. She sat up on the couch, picked up a strawberry and slipped her other fingers between Scarlett's legs, seeking out her soft folds and beginning to stroke them.

"Remember to stay very still, Scarlett," Reynolds said with an amused voice. "You don't want to spill anything on your back, and you definitely are not allowed to cum. Thieves don't get to enjoy pleasure when they're caught red-handed as you were."

Scarlett stiffened, trying to stay very still as Peachy's fingers pressed in, gently teasing, stroking, seeking out her most sensitive spots. Involuntarily, her pussy clenched around the woman's expert fingering. Peachy laughed and moments later Scarlett felt the woman stick a cold object into her pussy, rolling it around in her juices.

Withdrawing it, Peachy came around in front of Scarlet and held the strawberry before her lips, "Bite it, half of it," she said, her eyes glittering at her.

Scarlett made a face, but obeyed, the mixed juices of her sex and the strawberry squirting over her lips. Peachy then took the other half, placed it between her teeth and went back to the couch. Scarlett turned her head, watching as Peachy brought it to Reynolds lips and they kissed deeply, the strawberry eventually disappearing.

As she watched the two continue to kiss and tease, she felt herself growing warmer, her senses being aroused, wanting to be a part of their gentle, sexy play rather than just be used roughly the way she had been so far.

Finally, Reynolds stood and took another sip of the whiskey and then brought the highball glass to Scarlett's nose.

"Smell what you wanted to steal from me," Reynolds said. "Perhaps I'll even let you have a taste."

He passed the glass back and forth under her nose. She noticed that there was very little in the glass, but she was immediately struck with the aroma of ripe pear and oak. Her mouth began to water.

"Peachy, dear," Reynolds said, "come lick the strawberry off our intruder's lips so that I can give her a taste of our fine treasure."

Peachy knelt down in front of Scarlett and cupped her chin in her hand. She smiled at her and then slowly and sensuously began licking Scarlett's lips. Soon, the two were kissing passionately, and Reynolds took her breast into his free hand, caressing it, teasing at her nipple.

All too soon, they both pulled away. She felt everything removed from her back and Peachy helped her to her feet. Scarlett stretched. She was used to holding still for long periods of time in her line of work, but that didn't stop her from getting stiff.

"Have a sip," Reynolds said, handing her the glass. "But only a sip. This is meant to be savored in small amounts. Just let it wet your tongue and stay there."

Scarlett took the glass, sighing inwardly. At least she could say she had tasted whiskey that was worth more than she made in a decade. She brought it to her lips, taking just the sip allowed. She let the liquid sit on her tongue and closed her eyes. She was no expert, but she could appreciate its complexity--the hay and heather, the spicy nutmeg. It was sweeter than she expected for a whiskey that was centuries old, but it was also smoky, reminding her of the taste left after inhaling the smoke from burning charcoals that have just been doused. There was even a bit of rose.

Finally, she swallowed, the stiff burn traveling down her throat. She started to speak, but Reynolds put his finger over her lips.

"Hush," he said. "Just savor it. Don't ruin it with words. Besides, you and my pet need to sleep. Let the flavor sit on your tongue as you dream."

He led her over to the X-shaped cross and tied her to it, with her face inches from the wall. Reynolds reached down and gave her several hard smacks on her ass, renewing the heat and reminding her of how sore it was.

"Sleep," he said. "And remember the things I have said to you tonight."

At first, she didn't think it would be possible to fall asleep standing, even as tightly bound as she was to the cross, but it didn't take long. Reynolds climbed into the bed with Peachy and doused the lanterns. The slight whiff of kerosene permeated the room and soon, Scarlett was sound asleep, deeper into dreams than she had fallen for many years.

When she awoke, it was still dark. She listened for the breathing of the amorous couple from across the room, but heard nothing. Had they woken and left her here?

She tried to stretch and was surprised to find that the bonds that were so tight last night were now rotted. She tugged at them and they fell off easily. She let herself down and fumbled around the room, searching out where she was sure a lantern had been.

When she found it, she was grateful that there was still an old-fashioned box of matches near it.  She quickly lit it and then looked around in surprise.

Both Reynolds and Peachy were gone, but so was every trace of them. The room was covered in dust, the bed stripped of sheets and blankets. The cushions on the couch looked as though they had been turned into mouse nests.

She felt a bit like Rip Van Winkle except that her hair and fingernails were all the same length and she didn't feel she had aged more than a day.

And her bottom was itchy and sore from the treatment it had received.

Lifting the lantern she looked around the room until she found a pile of her clothing. As she started to dress, she found a bottle under her clothes. It was the bottle of Hannisville Rye Whiskey from 1863, the one she had watched Reynolds open last night. The one that she could still taste on her tongue. She examined it closely. The seal was unbroken and the bottle was full. A note was taped to it that said simply, "Remember."

She stared at it and then shook her head, tucking it away and determined to make her escape. The door had fallen off its hinges. The passageway was dark, covered in cobwebs and all signs of footprints were long gone.

Her heart was pounding by the time she got back to the stone door, half afraid that the house she had entered would be collapsed.

She passed through it and Scarlett felt a bit of her sanity return. Everything in the wine cellar was as she had left it the day before. Heading up to the main level of the house, sunlight streamed in from the grime-covered windows.

Still shaking, Scarlett drove home as quickly as she could, locking herself into her apartment wondering what had just happened to her.

She flipped open her laptop and started running the search she should have done before. Reynolds Auger. Who was he?

She stared at the picture that came up of the Silicon Valley whiz kid who owned the house she had just burgled. He had only the vaguest of familial resemblance to the person who had just spent the night ravishing and using her. But his hair was red and he was slight of build, his face far younger than the person she knew as Reynolds.

She shook her head and dug deeper until she finally found an old feature on him--one that pointed out he was Reynolds Auger the third. Now the pictures in the article sent a shock of recognition through her.

His grandfather, Reynolds Auger the first, a gold miner who'd built the family manse above a gold mine with his own hands--this was the man she had met deep underground last night. Except--he'd been dead for more than 90 years. He and his wife, Penelope, had died in a carriage accident along with their driver, Dmitri Kuznetsov.

Closing her laptop, she stared out the window for a long time.

It would be days before she finally delivered the bottle to her cousin and collected the check that let her purchase a fake passport and make her planned move to Manitoba, where she would be safe from the authorities seeking her.

She'd pushed the incident from her brain, convinced it was a delusion brought on by overwork and stress.

It was late one evening in the remote cottage she now called home when she got an email from a former colleague, one offering her a job that was worth coming out of retirement for. They face-timed back and forth, working out the deal and she had a smile on her face when she closed her laptop.

She'd net a half a million dollars for this theft after her expenses and it was in Costa Rica, far from her new home. She stood up and turned around, freezing in sudden shock as she did so.

Before her, wearing an old-fashioned suit and holding a wicked looking tawse in his hands was Reynolds.

"You...you're...how are you?" she stammered.

"I warned you, girl. I warned you that if you ever even thought about thieving again, I would give you a spanking that would make the other pale in comparison. And that's exactly what I'm going to do--I'll thrash you every night of the rest of your life if that's what it takes to reform you."

"But..you're ...you're dead!" she said. "How are you even here?"

His dark eyes shone and Scarlett swore she saw an aura around him shine brightly, "I told you, young thief. You intruded and saw what you shouldn't. You took what you should not have. You tasted what was mine and I filled you with my essence."

"You're mine now," he growled. "You're mine forever."

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