by Lee Savino
“Really?”
He nodded seriously. “Let’s get to work first, though.”
I followed him to the shed where the equipment was kept.
The task was the same as yesterday—take the horses out of the stall and muck them out. I knew the drill now, and I was getting quicker, Steele told me approvingly.
Yesterday’s coldness seemed to have blown away on the wind. Had he just forgotten what had happened between us? It sure seemed like it. I glanced at him when he wasn’t looking, trying to pick up on his body language. He seemed relaxed, and I didn’t catch him looking at me once. Well, he seemed like a guy who made a decision and stuck to it. I just wished that my attraction to him hadn’t quadrupled since he’d kissed me, stripped my clothes off, and sucked on my nipples—nipples that were now so hard, it hurt. I sighed. The only thing that would make them better would be his mouth on them again.
And that wasn’t about to happen. I guess I should take his cue, and try to get over it.
Steele
Carrie did good this morning: up on time, appropriately dressed in her new shirt and jeans, her hair neatly combed. I couldn’t fault the way she mucked out the stables, either. She was trying to please me, and that cheered me up a little.
She wasn’t anything like Victoria. My last submissive had pretended to like ranch life. She liked some of it—wearing four hundred dollar Frye boots she never let get too dirty. Petting the horses. Playing at a rancher’s wife. She even submitted to my darker urges. We both tried to make it work. But in the end, it hadn’t been enough.
My love hadn’t been enough.
This was different, I told myself. Carrie was different. Unconsciously sexy, not manipulative like Victoria. Innocent—too innocent for me.
I hadn’t slept well last night, tormented by the way I’d almost lost control. It wasn’t Carrie’s fault that she tempted my darkness. Hell, the last thing the girl was was a flirt. But that had done nothing to kill my attraction for her. Whenever her back was turned, I couldn’t help running my eyes over her body—her curvy little bottom sticking out so provocatively as she bent to shovel manure.
I’d promised she could stay for a while, but I’d better not lose control—of my heart, or the dangerous darkness that dwelt inside me.
Megan’s stall was the last to be cleaned out. When Carrie had finished, she looked at me expectantly, awaiting my next instruction.
“I’ll give you a lesson on Megan now, if you want?” I said.
Her eyes lit up. “Sure would,” she said.
Leaving Megan tied to the fence, we went to the tack room, and I took a saddle and showed Carrie how to transport it over one shoulder.
I taught her how to lay it over Megan’s back and tighten the girth, and how to persuade the horse to take the bit in its mouth. Megan tossed her head and complained a lot like she always did, but eventually Carrie managed to get the bit in her mouth and fasten the buckle behind her ears. Carrie was a quick study, I noticed. And she seemed to have a way with horses. Somehow, that wildness of hers seem to correspond to theirs.
I slung the saddle over Moonshine’s back, and bridled him.
“All right, hop up, and we’ll go into the corral,” I told Carrie.
At that moment, I picked up the sound of a vehicle approaching down the track. I turned my head, expecting to see my brother, back from his trip early, but it was two Mounties—Dave and Trey, both good buddies of mine. They saluted a greeting.
“Police?” Carrie said.
“Yeah,” I said carelessly, but when I glanced in her direction, I saw the color had drained from her face.
“Why are they here?” she hissed, her eyes huge.
“Guess they’ve come to—” I started to say. But before I could finish my sentence, she’d swung herself up into the saddle. She yanked hard on the rein—hauling Megan’s head around—kicked her in the ribs, and she was off.
“What the—” I yelled.
But it was too late. Megan’s hooves pounded across the yard and off into the open field.
“Something wrong?” Trey called.
“No—uh—I guess Megan’s a little energetic this morning,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
“Want me to go after her?”
I glanced at his police-issue SUV. Whatever Carrie was up to, I sensed a car chasing her down would make things a whole lot worse.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll go find her. I’ll catch you guys later.” I waved casually, and kicked Moonshine into a trot.
The moment I was out of sight of the guys, I took off. Carrie was already a dark spot in the distance. Where the hell did she think she was going? She wasn’t an experienced rider yet. She might make a mistake, take a fall. And I wasn’t there to catch her.
Cold sweat formed on my back as I pushed Moonshine into a gallop.
Megan was in full-on bolt mode, but Moonshine was a bigger, stronger horse, and we were soon on her tail. I prayed that Carrie wouldn’t fall off. She was hunched forward again, clinging to Megan’s neck, but by some feat of determination, she was managing to stay on.
I went out in a wide arc so I didn’t scare her, then circled in, eventually drawing level.
“Pull on the reins,” I yelled to her.
“I can’t!” she screamed.
“I’m going to stop you now. Hold on.” I brought Moonshine in front of Megan, and slowed him down to a trot, so Megan was forced to slow down, too.
In a few seconds, we’d halted. I leaped off Moonshine’s back before he came to a complete stop. Quick as lightning, I went over to Carrie and grabbed her right off the horse. Her legs weren’t strong enough to hold her up, and she crumpled.
“It’s okay, babygirl. I’ve got you.” She was trembling. I pulled her close, and she relaxed somewhat. Relief gave way to anger, and I took hold of her hips, and set her to face me. “What in God’s name was that?”
“They’ve come for me, haven’t they?” she whispered. She was panting, her eyes wild and panicked.
“Come for you? No.” I shook my head. “Why would the police be after you?”
“What were they doing here, then?”
I shrugged. “They’re buddies of mine. They come over often to shoot the breeze.”
She stilled, then she took a deep breath, her small chest rising and falling convulsively. “It was a social call?”
“Yup. A social call, that’s all. Now…” I shook her again. “You’ve got ten seconds to tell me why you think the police are on your tail. What are you mixed up in? Is it drugs?”
She stared up at me, and I gave her another little shake.
“Answer me.”
“No.” But she didn’t explain. Her lower lip trembled, and a tear glided down her cheek. I couldn’t take it anymore.
I caught her chin with my rough fingers. With my free thumb, I rubbed the wet mark away. “Tell me, babygirl.”
“No.” She wrenched her face away and wiped her arm across her tear-stained face. “I can’t. I don’t care what you do. You can kick me out right now, but I’m not telling.” She folded her arms, and stared at me with a mixture of defiance and sadness.
I glared at her. My heart still thumped with adrenaline from having to chase her down. I had half a mind to spank it out of her right now. But this wasn’t the place.
“Get back on the horse,” I told her. Then I climbed back onto Moonshine’s back, and took hold of Megan’s bridle, so Carrie didn’t get any ideas about bolting again.
We walked back to the ranch. I dropped Carrie off at the barn and told her to wait for me there.
The guys had gone already, as I’d anticipated. I untacked Megan and Moonshine and returned them to their stalls, then I walked some circles around the yard until I was calm enough to deal with my little felon.
When I entered the barn, Carrie was standing in front of the hay bale. Her face was pale, but her eyes were still burning with that wildness of hers.
Anger zipped through me like an elect
rical charge. I took a deep breath to get myself under control. The darkness inside me snapped its teeth like a beast, pacing in its cage. Now wasn’t the time to let it out.
“I told you I couldn’t abide liars,” I said slowly; deliberately. “And now I find out you’re in trouble with the police. I knew it. Knew there was a reason why you were so cagey and desperate for a job here. Tell me what you’ve done, right now.”
“I can’t tell you.” She plonked her ass down on the hay bale and tried to yank the boots off. “I’ll give you back all that stuff you gave me, and I’ll just get my things and go.” The boot held fast, and her face got redder and redder.
“Where are you going to go, Carrie?”
“Don’t know.” The first book clunked to the ground, and she went on to wrestle with the other one.
I stalked over to her. “No you don’t, little one. I’m not letting you go so easily. Not until I know you’re safe.”
The second boot hit the ground. She blinked up at me, tears in her eyes. “Why do you care?”
“Because you’re mine now. You gave yourself over to me. To protect. To discipline. But I can’t protect you if you won’t tell me the truth. You’re going to tell me everything, right now.”
A little tremor went through her, but she rolled her lips between her teeth and shook her head.
“All right. If that’s how you want this to unfold.” My hands went to the buckle of my belt. I unfastened it, and slid the entire belt loose from my jeans. “Last chance,” I warned her.
She stared at the belt, eyes wide. “I can’t.”
“You’re going to tell me, or I’m going to punish you, and then you’ll tell me.”
I brandished the belt between both hands, and a strange calm took hold of me. I’d belted submissives before. Sure, we had been in a club and it was all a scene. But this wasn’t play. This was real.
Carrie kept staring at the belt. If tensions weren’t so high, I’d have said she looked mesmerized, almost intrigued. I'd punished her before and it had hurt, but also aroused her.
“Last chance,” I repeated, and gentled my voice. “You can tell me, babygirl. You’ll feel better when it’s all out.”
She shook her head, stubborn as ever. “I can’t.”
“Then you take your punishment.”
Her chin came up. “Fine.” She stood quietly and waited as I took hold of the hay bale and dragged it out from the side of the room.
“Take your jeans down,” I told her, “and bend over the hay bale.”
Carrie stood, looking from the hay bale to the belt in my hand and back again, as if she couldn’t believe I was actually following through.
“Now,” I said, my tone low and threatening.
She opened and closed her mouth one more time, then reluctantly, sulkily, she unbuttoned her jeans. She pulled them down to mid-thigh level, exposing a pair of cream lace panties.
“And the panties,” I growled.
A little quaver cut through her bravado. “Do I have to?”
“Don’t make me take them down myself. You won’t like the consequences.”
Her hands trembled as she hooked her fingers into the waistband. She hesitated, then yanked them all the way down.
I’d expected her to turn her back on me, but instead I was treated to the sight of her blonde pubic hair—a neat, tender triangle, her sex barely visible beneath. My cock surged again, and the memory of having my finger inside her yesterday exploded into my mind.
I indicated the hay bale with a tilt of my jaw. “Bend over it,” I told her in a firm tone.
Her cheeks burned, but slowly, she turned around and began to hobble over to the bale. She clambered over it awkwardly, until her bottom was high in the air. Christ, the sight of those pale, round globes, presented so invitingly… She kept her slender thighs together but her pink lips were just visible beneath the peachy crack of her ass. It was all I could do not to take my cock out and plunge into her.
But I needed to break that stubbornness of hers—to show her I cared enough to discipline her when I said I would.
I kept the belt buckle in my hand and wrapped several loops around my fist, until two feet of cow hide remained. When I snapped it between my hands, she flinched.
I drew it back, and swung it against her ass.
Slap.
She gave a little gasp.
“I’m just getting started,” I warned her.
I gave her six more—slap, slap, slap—until I’d covered her entire ass, barely raising any color from her skin. She made a little sound at each one—like a cat’s mew, more in surprise than anything.
Adrenaline surged in my body, mingled with my anger.
“You don’t go riding off without my permission,” I told her. “You could’ve been hurt.” I drew back my arm, and brought the belt down.
Crack.
She cried out. This time, a red stripe rose to the surface.
“You don’t go lying to me.”
Crack.
I brought the belt down on her right cheek this time.
She yelped.
“You don’t run from the police.”
Crack. Just below her left cheek.
“And you don’t keep hiding things from me, even when you’ve been caught out.”
Crack.
That one was a lot harder, and she yelled out for real. She kicked her legs up—as if that would protect her.
“Put your legs down and keep still,” I instructed her. “Or it’ll only get worse.”
“Please, no more,” she whimpered.
“Tell me what you’re running from.”
“I can’t,” she moaned, her voice choked with tears.
I looked at her ass, half red, half white now. “I’ve only given you four. I’m guessing it’ll take another six or so before you’re ready to give it up.”
Crack.
“I’m gonna find out anyway.”
Crack. Crack. One on each side. She yelled and wriggled, but stayed in position.
I laid my hand on her rosy flesh. It was burning hot. “Come on, babygirl. Whatever it is, it’ll be better once you tell me.”
She trembled under my touch. “Can’t.” She sniffled.
I took a step back, and she made a whimpering sound. But she still wouldn’t give it up. She was as stubborn as a wild mare. But I knew how to tame her.
I raised my arm and gave her two in quick succession—
Crack. Crack.
Two sharp, stinging lashes that drew sharp cries from her.
“Please stop,” she whimpered.
The belt whistled through the air. Crack!
It landed heavily.
“Please, sir,” she yelped.
Crack!
“I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you everything.”
I stilled. “You’ll tell me?”
“Yes—just, no more, please.”
She was properly crying now, in wet, sobbing gasps. Her body was spent, her thighs dropping apart, and I had a perfect view of her pussy, glistening with wetness.
I leaned forward and cupped it with a rough hand. She was drenched, soaked through, and she gave a wild, animal moan of need.
“You’re wet, babygirl. So wet from this. So wet for me.”
I drew back the belt and whipped her once more, all along her crack.
She yowled, but made no move to close her thighs.
“This was supposed to be punishment,” I growled. I ran my finger up her cleft, spreading her juices up to her asshole—which was also exposed to my gaze—a perfect pink rosebud.
I grabbed my cock through my jeans. The urge to take her now was overwhelming. Take her hard. Possess every part of her. Make her mine forever.
She was so slippery, so ready for me, that my finger began to slide into her small hole almost by accident. Blood pounded in my head, in my cock, and I forgot about my anger, about how she’d lied to me, as my finger disappeared into her hot, tight asshole.
She clen
ched around me and let out a ragged moan.
“You like that?”
“Mhhhmm,” she mumbled.
“You going to tell me the truth now?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“This is what you need, huh?”
“Uh huh.”
I slipped a second finger into her tight pussy, and began to finger her like that, sliding in and out of her two little holes.
It felt wrong, but so right. She kept her face buried in the crook of her arm, and whimpered and moaned and arched her back, begging me to go deeper.
I started to go harder and faster, my fingers rough and clumsy, but she took it all, wanting more and more. I reached forward and rubbed the tip of my pinkie across the little bud of her clit, and it wasn’t long before she exploded. I felt her spasming all around my hand, tiny muscles gripping me while her whole body shuddered.
“Good girl,” I murmured, rubbing her back while her orgasm died away.
When she finally lifted her head, her cheeks were tear-stained but her expression was a wonder to see—stunned and ashamed and satisfied, all at once.
She flipped around on the hay bale and sat her bare ass down.
Her gaze floated to the fly of my jeans, to my cock straining uncomfortably beneath the denim. When she reached for me, I didn’t stop her. I looked down and watched as she unbuttoned my fly with inexperienced fingers, and my cock sprang out, massive and rock hard. She made a sound of surprise.
“You’re going to suck my cock, and then you’re going to tell me everything,” I said.
Slowly, slowly, she moved her head toward it. I could tell she’d never done this before.
I held her head gently in my hands. “Open up,” I told her, and brought it to her mouth.
The way her sweet lips parted for me was something I knew I’d never forget. I nudged at them with the head of my cock, and she stretched her jaw and tried to take me in.
I looked down at her, her panties still around her ankles, her sweet pussy exposed…
And I exploded.
I hadn’t meant to do that. But it was too late. My hot seed spilled over her lips in pulsing waves.
She looked taken aback, but wiped her mouth discreetly.