Annabelle: An Erotic Western Spanking Menage (Doms of Destiny Trail Book 1) Read online

  Annabelle

  Doms of Destiny Trail

  Samantha Madisen

  Copyright 2015 Samantha Madisen

  Thirteenth Line Publications

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, companies, organizations, products and events in this book, other than those that are clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, companies, organizations, events, or products, is purely conincidental.

  All characters depicted in this story are 18 years or older.

  Cover characters are models. Image(s) is/are licensed from:

  depositphotos.com/periodimages.com

  If you enjoy this story, we'd love it if you spent a few minutes checking out the rest of our catalog at Thirteenth Line Join the Thirteenth Line mailing list, to get notified about our releases.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  The smell of burning coal accompanied the massive black engine as it rumbled past the station platform. The thick plume of black smoke belching from the chimney eased, replaced by the sharp hiss of steam being let off as the thing slowed from its crawl to a stop.

  Her journey there had a been a calm one. She'd spent most of the time trying to ignore the other women seated in the train car, though sometimes she couldn't help herself but to glance at them. All of them were dressed much more finely than she, obviously either their soon to be husbands had already paid for them to look that way or they'd come from a different class than she entirely. She couldn't be sure either way but it didn't matter. Whichever one it was it made her feel the same way. The same way she'd always felt around any other women, the odd one out.

  As some of the other women began to rise and straighten their frilly dresses and reach for their umbrellas from the rack above, Annabelle decided that she would best wait in her seat until everyone else had alighted. That way at least none of the women would be paying any attention to her shabby attire and by the time she left the train car, hopefully all the other men except the man that was to be her husband would be otherwise occupied by their future brides.

  As each of the women passed her seat at the end of the train car, Annabelle couldn't resist but glance at the material of their dresses and compare it to the threadbare fabric of her own. The sinking feeling she dreaded, the one she'd known her whole life, began in the pit of her stomach. When she looked up at a pair of women who'd been conversing through the journey, it seemed as if they were pointing at her and whispering. The poorly masked giggling that followed was something she'd grown accustomed to in her life. Nevertheless, as it always did, the sentiment made her straighten in her seat and served only to strengthen the stubbornness of her resolve.

  Amos, the man whom she'd agreed to marry, owned a ranch and cattle and even had farmhands. With a bit of luck he would be generous and kind to her and she would finally be in a position in society that she might not be ashamed to be around other people. The thought reminded her of the purpose of her arrival and she looked out the window, as much to ignore the women passing by as to try and make out to which man standing at the station she would soon belong.

  There was a throng of them there. Each of them seemed to be dressed in what might be considered Sunday best in such a place, though she was fairly certain that such traditions as attending church on a Sunday were not observed this far from the civilized world. She scanned their faces. This one moustached, another clean shaven. Here a scrawny fellow that had his black hat in his hand, nervously glancing along the line of women as they made their way out of the train car. There an older gentleman with a full beard and a growing belly. A panic gripped her at the thought that that might be the man, the man she'd come to, the one she would spend the rest of her life with. She quelled it quickly. So what if it were? Better than a room in the brothel which had been her other choice.

  Then there they were. The four of them looked unlike all of the others. They were thick, muscled men who wore their hats on while they waited. One of them was leaning up against the wooden wall of the station with his hat so low she couldn't see his eyes. The others stood stock still, the two that would come to inhabit her dreams standing in between the two who appeared to be waiting and the others.

  It felt as if her heart skipped a beat when she saw them. They had their arms crossed along their chests, eyeing the rest of the men in the crowd. She'd never been one to pay much attention to men, or have any sort of reaction to them but revulsion and so her body's response took her very much by surprise.

  It was as if the veil of shame and fear she'd worn for the entirety of her life were lifted. Now she wanted to do anything she could to find their attention. She felt her body change shape, her chest pushing forward and her rear pushing back, though she hadn't willed it to do so. Then the first agonizing pang of the ache in her middle stretched through her and she felt herself shudder as she realized what it was her body wanted suddenly, more than anything. She wanted to feel their roughest touch.

  "Miss?" the voice from above shook her from her fantasy and caused her to startle. "I'm sorry miss, I didn't mean to alarm you." She looked up to see the uniformed conductor standing over her. "I do believe though, that this is your station? Destiny Trail? The train will be leaving again soon and I'd hate..."

  "Yes, yes, I know. I'm getting off," she said as she stood and blustered past the conductor, pushing him aside. "I was just collecting my thoughts," she managed to snap before alighting from the train car stairs.

  She was enveloped in a shroud of steam as the massive locomotive let off a cloud of it and for a moment she revelled in its safety, cloaking her from the world she had to face. When it cleared, she found herself staring straight at the two men who had their arms crossed. Her body filled with a hope she'd previously not let herself feel. Could it be that one of these men would be her future husband? Could it be that one of these strong, towering pillars of muscle would be the one to take her home and lay claim to her as his bride? The ache in her middle amplified as two of the men stepped forward and towards her. Her heart raced, she felt the pulse of it in her throat and she couldn't hold their gaze any longer, looking instead down at the station platform as it became more and more obvious that they were coming for her.

  This was to be her future, the loyal wife of a strong frontiersman, fearless and always at her husband's side as they made a life for each other together and tamed this wild west. When she glanced up they were even closer, almost to the spot where she was standing and she held her breath and closed her eyes and waited to hear the sound of her name.

  "Daisy Lou?"

  The words sent a chill through her and she felt the hope she'd let herself believe was real, hardening in her heart. When she looked up at them, they seemed to be staring past her.

  "Excuse me, miss." The soft, brittle voice came from behind her and Annabelle spun around to see a small woman standing there seeming even more shy than she herself was. She looked back at the two burly men then back at the woman behind her and came to realize that quite unintentionally she had been placed in the center of a very intimate introduction. The man who'd spoken the name turned to her and in a deep rumble explained,

  "Miss, I belie
ve there's someone waiting for you over there."

  She followed the line of his finger and the ache she'd felt just moments ago was once again replaced by the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she realized that all of the other women had been escorted from the station. The only person left was the short man with the growing stomach she'd glanced from the window of the train. She turned back to the two men at her side. But surely there was a mistake? There were two of them, after all, perhaps one of them was hers.

  "I'm Annabelle!" she blurted, hoping to see the light of recognition on their faces, or the faces of the men behind them who were still standing with their arms crossed. But none came. Instead, she heard the sound of her name spoken by a raspy voice.

  "Annabelle? Annabelle Atkins?"

  The voice belonged to the man with the fat hands and round belly.

  Annabelle felt her shoulders slump but did her best not to lower her head. It was hardly a death sentence. It was much better than a room at the brothel. Pursing her lips into a smile, she looked up at the two men to her side.

  "Excuse me," she said proudly and walked towards the round man who with each step closer seemed to shrink in stature. She stopped in front of him and held out her hand. "I'm Annabelle Atkins."

  "I'm Amos Evans," the man said, his gaze raking up and down her body as he appraised her. He looked up and nodded approvingly. "You're to be my bride."

  ***

  He'd seen her through the window when she was still sitting in the train car. Just the sight of her had sent his heart kicking in his chest. He'd tried to look away, tried to pretend he hadn't seen her. When he looked at Rem, he knew he'd seen her too.

  No. Please don't let it be so.

  His mind was racing at the possibilities. Maybe she was just in that car because there hadn't been room in any others? Maybe there'd been a mistake and they'd sent her too soon. Maybe she was just here to...to what? Live alone in a lawless town?

  He'd watched as each of the other women had been paired off with one of the men waiting. They'd only come to keep the peace, him and Rem. It was always done that way. It had been a good thing they were there too. As soon as Tex and Mack had stepped onto the platform the others had their heckles up. Hell, he'd sworn he saw a couple of them start to walk over, hands by their holsters until him and Rem were in plain view. Then they backed down. Bunch of savages. One woman for each of them when they could barely handle half of her.

  When she'd stepped off the steps of that train car it took everything he had not to run over there with Rem, take her in his arms and tell that scared looking face of hers she'd never have to worry about anything else because they were going to take care of her forever. What he wouldn't have given to be able to do that.

  Then, the look of disappointment on her face when she'd heard Amos speak her name. He'd have done anything to wipe that look off her face. Hell, he'd have told Amos to get back on his horse and ride on home if the man weren't his boss. Could have been any other man. Why Amos? And why was he walking over here now.

  "Afternoon Blaise," Amos said, tipping his hat at him and nodding before doing the same to the rest of the men. He was a good man, Amos Evans, and a good boss. He was one of the only men around who didn't care about the way they lived, sharing a bride. No, he had no quarrel with him. Except...why did it have to be him?

  "Afternoon Mr. Evans," the four of them replied in turn.

  "Didn't realize you fellas were going to be here today. If I had, I'd have given you the day off with pay. Which one of you are the lucky husbands?"

  "We are, sir," Tex said, puffing his chest out proudly along with Mack. The small woman between them blushed a crimson red. But Blaise only caught it from the corner of his eye. Though he was trying his hardest not to, he couldn't fight the need to stare at the red-haired wonder standing next to Amos Evans. Round in all the perfect places, she filled out her dress with delicious curves that made him want to lift her off her feet and together with Rem carry her home and lay her in their bed...

  "Congratulations to you! When's the big day?"

  "We haven't yet set a date, sir," Mack offered.

  "Fair enough," Amos replied, "let me know when you do. You know, you boys are welcome to use the barn. I reckon there won't be anyone too willing to rent you any space..."

  "That's awfully kind of you, sir. That would be a real help, if you don't mind, that is."

  "You should have told me sooner's the only thing. I'll be marrying next week and I can't let you use it before that," Amos said, scratching at the stubble on his chin with a finger. "That is unless...say Blaise, Rem?"

  "Yes Mr. Evans," Blaise replied, tearing his eyes off of the man's would-be bride.

  "If you boys can come over and start mucking out stalls tomorrow why I bet we could have the place ready for this Saturday instead of next. That way Tex and Mack can use it next weekend. What do you say?"

  Blaise felt his heart leap at the possibility that he might have another chance to see the blushing woman standing beside Amos one more time.

  "We'll be there first thing, Mr. Evans. First thing tomorrow."

  "Good job boys. Well..." Amos trailed off as he looked up at his bride. Her pale skin was a bright red and she stood staring intently at the ground as if meeting anyone's gaze might cause her to catch fire.

  "Congratulations Mr. Evans. She'll make a fine bride."

  Blaise had to clench his jaw at what he'd heard Mack say. Why? This was Mr. Amos' bride, rightfully so seeing as how he'd ordered her. Where was this jealousy coming from? And why the hell couldn't he keep himself from staring at the woman?

  "Thanks Mack. Listen boys," Amos said, leaning in and lowering his voice. "I'd lie low for a little while if I were you. You know I got no quarrel with the way you choose to live, but I know for a fact there'll be some drinking and swearing about the fact that you were here in the saloon tonight. Just keep out of sight for a while, I say. Especially at night."

  "Will do, sir," Tex rumbled.

  Blaise and the others watched as the pair turned around. He couldn't keep his eyes off the sway of her ass as she went and he felt it in between his legs. When he looked at Rem, he knew the two of them had to find some time alone to talk this through.

  "Listen up cowboys," Blaise said turning to the others. Mr. Evans is right. You boys saw the way those savages were looking at us sideways. I swear I saw a few of them heading over this way with their fingers itching over their holsters. No sense playing tough around here, we just need to lie low. They'll forget about everything in a few days and things will get back to normal. For the time being, I say you boys and your new bride stay at home."

  "Blaise is right," Mack said, nodding to Tex. "No sense getting into a shootout about this. Come on beautiful, let's get you home."

  ***

  Rem pulled the bottle down from the top shelf where they kept it and blew the dust off.

  "Probably still good, right?"

  "You're kidding, right? It's whisky?" Blaise asked, cocking his head.

  "Of course I'm kidding, now pass me a glass."

  Blaise handed him two glasses from the tiny cupboard in the kitchen and took a seat on one of the two chairs in the room. Rem poured the golden liquid into the two glasses and re-corked the bottle, putting it back in it's place. It wasn't like them to drink this early, or very much at all, but what had happened at the station had shaken them both to their core.

  "Damn! That burns!" Blaise said cringing after a swig of his booze.

  Rem lifted his glass to his nose and gave it a whiff, then tilted his head back and took a gulp. He winced at the burning heat of the alcohol as it travelled down his throat, but after the sting of pain had died down, he revelled in the warm sensation of relief it brought as it settled in his stomach.

  "Yeah, that stuff's not any better than the day we bought it," he replied, setting his glass down on the table and taking a seat on the other chair, opposite Blaise. He could tell by the way Blaise was drumming his fin
gers on the table that he was just as eager to talk about what had happened at the station as he was. "I guess you felt it too?"

  "Felt it?" Blaise asked, "Damn near knocked me off my feet."

  Rem nodded. "I mean, I know that's how everyone says it happens. I guess I just never believed it. Until now."

  "What in the hell are we gonna do?" Blaise asked, tilting in his chair and swallowing the last of the whisky from his glass.

  Rem shook his head and stared at the table. "I don't know. She's Mr. Evans' bride. That's as true as the night is long. But just the thought of her..."

  "With him?" Blaise offered.

  "Yeah, it's not even so much that, is it? It's the thought of her not being with us," Rem explained.

  "Yeah. You put your finger on it right there." Blaise paused and narrowed his eyes. "You think she felt it too?"

  "I don't know. I just don't know."

  "Isn't that how it's supposed to work or something? We're all supposed to feel it at the same time?" Blaise said, sounding concerned.

  Rem's eyes hardened. "I don't know if it is but you know what? I don't care. I'm not a hot head that's gotta follow his gut all the time, you know that. But this isn't something I can just ignore. I'm gonna find a way to talk to that girl. I'm gonna find a way to talk to her tomorrow when we're up there mucking out the stalls in that barn."

  "How in the hell are you going to do that?" Blaise asked, looking a little worried at the sudden departure of his friends usual stoic calm.

  Rem shook his head and ran a hand across the stubble on his chin. "I don't know. But come hell or high water, that girls at least going to listen to what I have to say. What we have to say."

  "Whoa, hold on a second!" Blaise said, getting up from his chair, "Who said anything about we?!?"

  Rem stood up and met his stare. "Well friend, it's your choice. We both know this hasn't ever happened before and for all we know might never happen again. Are you just gonna stand there and leave that on the table?"