The Cowboy's Babygirl: A dark cowboy romance

by Lee Savino

  Although, he said that if I was a good girl, when we were done shopping, I could choose one tub of ice cream. I picked chocolate and caramel because I knew chocolate was his favorite, and a little caramel might help broaden his horizons.

  He also bought me a new sim card for my phone, and put me on a plan. I was connected to the world again.

  “You’d better not tell anyone where you are, though—at least for a while,” he said.

  A thread of nerves prickled inside me, as it always did when I thought of my life back in Texas. “But you haven’t found anything on the news?”

  “No, I haven’t. But let’s be cautious,” he told me, squeezing my hand.

  I nodded. It had been three weeks since I’d stabbed Enzo. Steele kept assuring me that everything was fine; if he’d died, we’d know about it by now. But I couldn’t stop worrying. I wished I could call up someone from home and find out for sure, but that would be madness.

  No, I’d just have to keep this on my conscience. In the meantime, Steele did everything he could to help me forget about it.

  I installed some apps on my phone, but stayed off Instagram and Facebook. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to get in touch with people from my old life. I missed a couple of my girlfriends. I’d message them one day to let them know I was okay. But everything from my past was like a dream, already fading so fast, while my life here was in high definition. One beautiful day after another, full of new experiences and exciting feelings.

  When the weekend came, we still had to wake up early and take care of the animals, of course, but we didn’t do any other work. Instead, Steele took me for a drive along the river to see the fall colors. The water sparkled so prettily as it meandered through the valley, and the trees burned beautiful shades of red and orange. He told me all about the land, about its ancestral people. And I could tell he loved it, and that it was a deep part of him and his soul. I started to love it, too, because I wanted to be part of him—and him part of me, too.

  I was falling for Steele. But was he falling for me, too? Did him being my daddy mean he’d fallen for me already? It was confusing. He said he was going to be my daddy forever, but did that mean he loved me? More than anything, I longed to ask him. But there was a little part of me that was worried he’d laugh at me. That he’d tell me that wasn’t how things worked.

  That night, Steele took me out to dinner again—to the same place where we’d met Barbara and Tom. He said it would just be the two of us this time, even if every single friend of his was in there. My heart fluttered in delight. He always put me first, always cared for my happiness.

  He’d reserved the best table again, by the window, and as the candlelight flickered and he held my hand across the table, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. It was a perfect, romantic evening. I was wearing the pink dress again. Steele said I looked prettier than ever. But he’d have to get me some more outfits for dates.

  “We’ll go to the city in a couple of weeks,” he said. “There’s nothing special enough for you in the local department store.” Then he frowned, because I didn’t say anything. “Would you like that?” he asked, an endearing touch of uncertainty in his voice.

  I clasped my hands together. “Yes, I would love that,” I said. “But who’s going to take care of the animals?”

  He laughed. “You’re already turning into a country girl. I’ll ask one of the neighbors. That’s what we do around here—take turns helping each other out. It’s a real community.”

  “I can tell,” I said happily, and we started making plans to drive to Vancouver. He said we could stay somewhere fancy if I wanted, and we could go to bars, restaurants, whatever I liked. Shop all day if I wanted.

  “I just want to spend time with you,” I told him, and he looked pleased.

  He raised my hand and pressed it to his lips. “I want you to be happy and have fun, little one. I don’t want to deprive you of anything.”

  “Oh, everything I want is right here,” I assured him, my eyes prickling with unshed tears.

  “Good, baby. I’m glad.” He hesitated before saying, “My last submissive preferred the city to the country. But she didn’t tell me straight. She came to live with me anyway, even though she was unhappy. I thought I was the one making her miserable. I didn’t realize she was lying to me, that we just weren’t compatible because we wanted different things. Maybe she was lying to herself.” He added the last part thoughtfully.

  I squeezed his hand. “I like the country. I’m not lying.”

  “I know you’re not, babygirl. You’re a terrible liar.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him, and he chuckled. “Careful.” The warning made me smile.

  By the time the food came to our fancy table, I was more relaxed. It was nice to know I fit Daddy better than his last lady love. I’d been mentally trying to measure up to her, without knowing anything about her. An impossible task.

  The starter and entrée were as delicious as last time, and it when it came to desserts, Steele looked at the list earnestly. “I’m guessing you’ll be ordering the ice cream medley with a side of caramel sauce?” he said. It was at the bottom of the list, as a suggestion for little ones.

  I nodded, my cheeks warming. “Guess I will.”

  Steele broke into a grin. He liked treating me like a lady, but I knew he really loved it when I was his little one.

  When we got back to the ranch, Steele took me to bed and made love to me. I was learning there were two sides to our sex life. One was the rough, wild fucking that accompanied training in the barn. I loved it; I loved the way I could feel so unrestrained that I didn’t care what screams and cries came out of my mouth. How desperate and helpless I felt. How Steele unraveled me, laid me bare, and taught me things about myself that I’d never even considered before.

  And then there was the lovemaking in bed, which was full of tenderness. Steele looked into my eyes, and murmured sweet words to me. His hands caressed me gently and he went down on me for hours, drawing one orgasm after another from my helpless body.

  When he had given me all the orgasms I could stand, something in him would shift, and he’d fuck me hard as hard as he needed to, before he came deep inside me. In these moments I felt the barely-contained fire inside him. Sensed how much it cost him to hold back.

  Tonight, he lay on his back and pulled me on top of him. As I sat back, with all my weight on him, his cock pushed deep inside me. I couldn’t believe I could fit it all in. He held my hands by my thighs and looked up at me adoringly. “They call this the cowgirl position, you know?” he said.

  I grinned. “They do?”

  “Ride me, baby,” he murmured. “I want to see your sweet pussy sliding up and down my cock.”

  Steele liked to watch. He switched on the lamps on the nightstands, and his gaze fluttered over me as we made love. He loved to see his cock possessing my body, over and over again.

  He was still big for me, but I learned to accommodate him. Learned to love the fleeting shock as he penetrated me, knowing it would soon give way to intense ripples of pleasure.

  I leaned back, as he wanted me to, and he held onto my hips, lifting me up and down on his cock.

  “You look so sexy,” he said. It turned me on that he could see my pussy filled with his big cock. I was learning that I was a bit of an exhibitionist.

  Soon, he pulled me close so I was lying flat on top of him. He held me tight and thrust into me, all the while kissing me deeply. His tongue slipped into my mouth while his cock filled me right up. As his rhythm matched my own, I could feel a climax approaching, coming closer and closer and closer. But he didn’t let me go—he kept kissing me, so when the orgasm hit, I cried out right into his mouth. It was deep and intense and beautiful.

  “I love you,” he murmured.

  I went very still. “What did you say?”

  “I said I love you, Carrie.”

  I blinked. “You said you love me?”

  He grinned. “Yes, of course I do. Why
the surprise?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. I-I love you too,” I stuttered as my eyes filled with tears.

  “Oh, baby.” He held my head in his hands and kissed the tears away. “Of course I do. I should’ve told you already.”

  I laid my head down on his chest and he hugged me tight, his cock still deep inside me. When he started to thrust again, fast and rough, I was on the point of coming again, and for the first time, we came at the same time in a dazzling kaleidoscope of bliss.

  I couldn’t quit smiling.

  My daddy had said he loved me. It was the one little piece that had been missing, and now it slotted right into place.

  Chapter 16

  Carrie

  After that night, our relationship seemed to enter a deeper level. I sensed Steele felt it, too. He was more relaxed around me. Sure, he was still a stickler for discipline, and I understood that was always going to be a part of our relationship. And secretly, I was glad. His hand on my bottom brought me peace, helped push away the past, and drew me fully into my new life, where I knew what the rules were. Where I knew, without a shred of doubt, that I had a daddy who would take care of me and give me all the guidance I needed. He told me I still needed a lot of training. I was only half broken, he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He sometimes wondered if I’d ever be fully broken.

  Sometimes, I got bratty and he sensed I needed a spanking. “Come here,” he’d tell me, out of nowhere, “and lie across my lap.”

  I’d do as he told me, of course, stretching out, positioning my ass across his muscular thighs, half worrying, half yearning for him to take down my jeans and my panties, and lay his hand on my bare cheeks. First, the spanking, until my ass was red and sore, and then the sex—always the sex. Because by the time he’d finished spanking me, my pussy would be wet enough to leave a mark on his jeans, while his cock was so hard it was bursting out of his pants.

  The training in the barn continued, too. He started to let me ride Megan, and that was our routine—a lesson on Megan, then a lesson with me stripped naked in the barn. I understood the two things were related. He always found some fault in my posture, with the aids I was giving the little horse. And when we got to the barn and he made me strip, he always used those as the basis to correct me.

  He made me a collar out of an old horse rein. It was brown leather and well-worn. He attached a buckle to the end of it, and at the start of our training sessions, he fastened it around my neck. “Now you’ll know that your training is beginning,” he told me. “That you need to perform for me, exactly as I tell you.” He ran his hands over my body—my breasts, ass, pussy—reminding me that I was his, to discipline, train, and possess.

  I did my best to go through my paces, doing laps around the room on my hands and knees, ass high, back arched. But more often than not, he’d take the crop to me, striping my ass and thighs, until he was satisfied with my performance.

  He liked to position me on the hay bale and walk around me in circles as if I was an art exhibit. He’d take his big cock out of his pants and run his hand up and down his shaft thoughtfully, as if deciding how he was going to fuck me next. I would pose for him, quivering in anticipation. Whether he decided to take my mouth or my pussy, I knew I was going to enjoy it. He hadn’t taken my ass yet, but he teased it a lot, and every day I longed for it a little more.

  One day, Steele made me take my position on the hay bale. Head and ass lifted high, all wet and exposed for him. He’d been quiet this morning, as if turning something over in his mind.

  He got the crop and trailed it over my body, finishing with some sharp taps on my pussy. Then he went and stood behind me, long enough for me to fidget and shift my position. But I knew better than to ask him questions. Instead, I waited silently, apprehension tingling in my veins. Was he planning to spank me? To fuck me?

  Instead, he told me to kneel up.

  He tapped my inner thighs with the crop, easing my knees apart until they were wide enough for his satisfaction, exposing my bare pussy to him.

  “Now, put your hands behind your back.”

  I did as he said, and he went behind me and bound my wrists together with something—one of his leather straps, no doubt. He’d never done this before. It made me feel hot and vulnerable. My back was arched and my breasts were thrust out.

  He stood in front of me, admiring his handiwork. “I want you to stay right there and not move until I get back, understood?”

  I nodded.

  “If you move an inch, I will know, and you will not enjoy the punishment.”

  I nodded again, acknowledging his words. He took something out of his back pocket—a handkerchief. He tied it around my eyes, and the world went black.

  A dart of nerves shot through me. He’d never blindfolded me before, either. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not. It made me feel hella vulnerable.

  He was gone a long time. Enough time for my wetness to chill on my spread pussy. Enough times for me to wonder if he was ever coming back. Anticipation gave way to boredom, and returned to anticipation again. What is he doing?

  My knees started to ache. I tried hard not to fidget.

  At long last, I heard footsteps on the wooden boards of the barn. The blindfold was pulled off my eyes, and Steele stood in front of me, holding a medium-sized cardboard box, his eyes lit with suppressed excitement.

  It was the package that had arrived yesterday, I recalled. Steele had brought it inside and hidden it somewhere. I’d longed to ask what it was, but sensed I might regret the question.

  Now, he sat down on the end of the hay bale and opened it up. There was a bunch of brown leather straps, with brass rings connecting them. Not the old leather of his horse tack, but shiny new leather, with a rich, expensive scent.

  He held the straps up to show me. “Know what it is?”

  “A… a harness?” I muttered, confused.

  He smiled, pleased. “It’s for you to wear as part of your training,” he told me. He untied my hands and helped me to my feet.

  There were two sets of straps to step into, and then he pulled the harness up, over my body, tightening various buckles around my waist, ribcage, and shoulders.

  He stepped back and admired his handiwork. “Beautiful,” he said in a tone of satisfaction. “Want to see how you look?”

  I nodded uncertainly.

  He grabbed his phone from his pocket, snapped a photo, and showed it to me.

  My breath caught. It was beautiful, really. Kind of like a one-piece bathing suit, made of expensive, intricately finished leather. My body was tightly encased in a series of straps, leaving my breasts and pussy bare.

  “Well, what do you think?” There was the slightest hint of uncertainty in his voice.

  “I like it,” I said. It was arousing to be so tightly constricted, yet exposed at the same time. I felt like some kind of expensive, highly-prized creature. A thoroughbred horse.

  Steele ran his hands over me and I could tell he enjoyed the combination of skin and leather.

  “Lovely,” he murmured, with a catch in his voice. He pinched my nipples hard and slapped my pussy. “From now on, you’ll wear the harness when I put you through your paces. And if I think you need it, I might make you wear it in the house as well.”

  A dart of arousal went through me, so sharp it hurt.

  “Now I’ve got one more thing to give you, but you need to be on your hands and knees to receive it.” He nodded at the hay bale.

  Immediately I climbed onto it, getting into position automatically—ass high, thighs wide apart. He removed the final item from the box almost reverently.

  I frowned. It was a coil of blonde hair. When he held it aloft, it tumbled down into a ponytail, bright and silken. Something was attached to the end of it—a transparent bulb.

  “Know what it is?” he asked me.

  I stared at the bulb, recognition beginning to dawn on me. “Is it for my ass?” I asked.

  “Yup. It’s a butt plug. It�
��s going to train your ass, while I train the rest of you.”

  He disappeared behind me, and I started to tremble. I’d heard of butt plugs. But they’d always seemed like kind of a joke. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have one in my ass.

  The plug brushed against my pussy, and I fought the urge to jerk away, knowing what the consequences would be.

  “Steady,” Steele said soothingly, and he stroked my ass cheeks as he often did when I was nervous. He rubbed the bulb up and down my labia. It felt soft and arousing. Then he pushed it into my pussy. I took it easily. It didn’t feel so big—there, anyway.

  “I’m just going to make it nice and wet for you,” he commented.

  I was wet—wetter than ever. As much as the thought of the butt plug scared my conscious mind, my subconscious seemed to be eager for it.

  He took it out and pressed it against my little hole. It started to go in so easily, I almost didn’t feel it. But it quickly got wider and wider, until it was really big. I could feel it forcing me open, my muscles yielding to accept it. It started to hurt, and I cried out in a panic.

  Then there was a little pop, and it didn’t feel so big anymore.

  “There,” Steele said, and he stepped in front of me again.

  I had a second of confusion. He’s left the butt plug inside me? My ass felt really full but open at the same time, and my pussy burned with a fresh surge of arousal.

  “How does it feel?” he asked.

  “Weird. Hot,” I admitted.

  “Well, you look beautiful. Like a perfect little pony girl,” he told me.

  He took another photo and showed me. There I was in a horse harness, with a blonde tail—the exact same color as the hair on my head—hanging down from my behind. I felt the hairs brushing against my pussy, and squirmed. It was a weird, humiliating feeling, but all the more hot for that.