by Lee Savino
Steele put me through my paces again: walking turns around the barn, first on two legs, and then on my hands and knees. The brass rings clinked, and the leather straps chafed a little at the tops of my thighs, and the tail swished, but that was nothing compared to the sensation of the butt plug in my ass—stretching me open, driving me crazy. I could feel my wetness running down my thighs, and my cheeks burned at the thought that Steele could see it, too, and he knew how much this shameful game was turning me on.
When I’d completed enough laps to Steele’s satisfaction, he told me to get back on the hay bale again. He stood behind me, and I heard the clink as he unfastened his belt, the sound of his zipper being undone, then the soft plop of his jeans and underwear falling to the floor. I liked it when he stripped like this, keeping his cowboy shirt on. It was kind of functional and dirty.
I began to shiver in anticipation, unsure what he was planning next. I heard a rustle of foil, a quiet snap of rubber, and something pressed at my entrance. A moment later, he was pushing himself inside me.
He was going to fuck me with the butt plug still in my ass.
Holy crap, this felt different. The butt plug took up so much space, there was hardly any room for his cock. He pushed harder than usual, until he hit home with a groan of pleasure.
I gasped. I was stuffed. Both my holes were filled up. It was too much.
My insides throbbed and spasmed.
He hadn’t thrust three times before I exploded. An insane, shattering orgasm. It shuddered through my pussy and my ass at the same time. I dropped my head into my hands and gave myself over to it, aware of nothing but the brutal, beautiful sensations.
“God, you feel so good, baby,” Steele murmured as he thrust into me again and again. “So tight.” I could feel his hand on the end of the butt plug, holding the naughty ponytail out of the way as he fucked my pussy. It was rough and dirty and animalistic. He tugged on the straps that encircled my hips, fucking me harder and harder. Wild, jerky, out of control. Slamming into me again and again….
Until, at last, he came with a deep, animal sound of release.
When he pulled the butt plug out, slowly, slowly, I was relieved. But I also knew I’d look forward to the next time he used it to train my ass.
Chapter 17
Steele
I trained her every day—my little pony girl. I couldn’t get enough of the sight of her in her harness. The elegant leather displayed her sweet body to perfection. I was so proud of her. So proud of the way she tried her hardest to please me; obeyed all my orders.
And the training was doing wonders for her. Her posture was transformed. Even in the house, she walked tall and confident. That teenage slouch of hers was completely gone.
I made her take the plug all the time, and she never complained. The sight of the swishy blonde tail hanging down between her legs, brushing her pussy, almost drove me to distraction. It meant trust, and submission.
And it made her soaking wet and desperate for me to take her. Often, I claimed her from behind while she was on her knees on the hay bale, or bent over the couch. I loved how tight it made her pussy, the wild sounds that burst from her lips when she came.
Other times, I liked to pull it out first, and gaze at her sweet asshole while I fucked her, knowing I was going to claim it soon as well.
I knew she was scared of taking my cock there; scared it was going to break her in two.
I was patient, for the most part. Whenever I spanked her—which was most days—and she was lying across my knee, jeans and panties down by her ankles, and her cheeks bright red, I’d finish by training her ass. Sometimes I’d use my fingers, adding one at a time, sliding them in and out, while my other hand teased her clit. Sometimes, I’d use the plug, pushing it in to its widest part, then withdrawing it again. I wouldn’t quit until she came, and when I watched her exploding in an intense orgasm, I’d feel her little hole spasming as well.
But whenever my cock nudged against her opening instead, she tensed right up.
There was no rush, I told her. And, aside from my need to possess every part of her, there wasn’t. It would happen when it happened.
One beautiful day passed after another, in loving, companionable days and hot, lustful nights. The first snow came, bringing peace and silence across the land. Carrie was as excited as a small child. She insisted on making her first ever snowman in the yard in front of the house, then she expanded it into a whole snow family—mom, dad and two kids. I loved to see her so joyous and unaffected—just as she was supposed to be. The sight of her working with rosy cheeks and a big grin on her face touched my heart.
Max had quit bothering me about the ranch when I told him he could have his half if he came and took over my job for the winter. I was calling his bluff, and it worked. He told me he’d be staying in the city for the duration.
So it was just Carrie and me, and the animals, cozy in our winter wonderland.
I allowed myself to start daydreaming. To picture our future together. In my imagination, it was always a riot of color and intensity, as broad and infinite as the plains. I imagined children—not for a long time, of course. Carrie had plenty of growing up to do first. But, in time, maybe two girls and two boys. I’d expand the ranch, maybe build a whole new house for them. Teach them to ride before they were big enough to walk.
But for now, and for a long time, I wanted it to be just me and Carrie, loving each other, deepening our bond every day. It was a happiness I’d never imagined.
Until one day in late November, when everything changed.
I was fixing a broken fence in the farthest field of the ranch when I spotted something in my peripheral vision—a small figure, moving in the distance. I stood up to see better. It was Carrie, hurtling toward me at full pelt.
Something was wrong. I started running, too, my heart jumping into my throat.
I caught up to her in the middle of the next field. She looked panicked, tears running down her face.
“He’s found me!” she wailed.
“Who?”
She held out her phone with a trembling hand, and I snatched it. As I read the words on the screen, a furious rage surged in me:
Where the fuck are you little puta?
You better get your ass back here Carrie!
I mean it. come home now
Last chance if you don't come back now I’m telling the cops what really happened
“That goddarned piece of dung.” I clenched the phone so hard, the plastic crackled.
“I’m going to have to go back, aren’t I?” Carrie choked out. She was sobbing now, almost hysterical.
“What? No.” I dropped to my knees in the snow and wrapped my arms around her. She felt tiny, her chest heaving like a little bird’s. I pushed her hair out of her face and made her look at me. “Listen, Carrie, there is no way you’re going back home. Are you crazy?”
She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “B-but, he’s going to tell the cops. And I’ll go to jail.”
I shook my head. “He’s bluffing. If he tells the cops you stabbed him, he’ll have to tell them why.”
“But he’ll say I’m lying. There’s no proof of what he did to me. Tried to do, anyway.”
I exhaled slowly, pushing my anger away so I could concentrate on her. “Carrie, I’m here to protect you. You have to know I’ll do that with my last breath.”
Her lip trembled. “I know you will. But I don’t want you to get in trouble, either.”
“Hold up. Let’s see what kind of state he’s in.” I took my own phone out of my pocket and refreshed the search I’d done so many times before. I actually hadn’t trawled the news for a few days, thinking it had been long enough.
That had been a mistake.
There he was. I ground my teeth.
Enzo Gutierrez hailed a hero after tackling a burglar. Released from hospital today.
said the Lone Star News article. It went on to explain that he’d sustained a serious knife wound when confr
onting an intruder. He’d endured six hours of surgery, and barely escaped with his life.
Pride was my first reaction—for what my little one had done. A little messed up, but there it was. I was relieved that piece of crap wasn’t dead, for Carrie’s sake, but it looked like she’d put him in the hospital for a month. Maybe he’d think twice about taking advantage of vulnerable women again.
“Let me see?” Carrie demanded. I handed her my phone, and her eyes got bigger and bigger. “He’s okay,” she said.
“A lot more than he deserves.” I stared at the photo of the ‘hero’s’ homecoming in disgust. He looked about as slimy and weaselly as I’d expected.
Carrie’s phone pinged again. She glanced at it and gasped. Her face turned pale.
“Let me see.”
As I read the words on the screen, my sympathy for Carrie overflowed:
Carrie honey, you have to come back. Enzo told me what you did and I forgive you. But if you don’t come back, he’s gonna be real mad. Please baby, I need you.
“Your mom, I presume?”
Carrie’s lip curled. “If you can call her that.” A look of sheer disgust crossed her face. But then she fell apart.
I took her in my arms again. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” I muttered as she sobbed. My throat felt tight and my heart ached for everything she must have endured growing up.
“I have to go back, don’t I?” she whimpered. “When your mom asks, you go.”
I drew back, and grasped her shoulders. “No, you don’t. Not when your own parent willingly exposes you to danger. Carrie, listen to me: I know you’re loyal to your mom, but nothing good will come of going back to Texas. All that will happen is you’ll get hurt.”
She bit down on her lip, which was already red and chewed. “I know.”
“You’re here now, with me. And I’m going to protect you, okay?”
She gazed at me wordlessly for a while.
“Okay,” she said at last. But there was conflict in those big green eyes of hers, and it worried me.
Every time I thought of Carrie’s mother, my skull started to pound. Manipulating her own daughter like that? Allowing her to be abused? I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Enzo was human garbage, that was obvious. But her mom’s own flesh and blood?
A child’s bond with its parent is strong, no matter how little the parent deserves it—I understood that. But I thought I’d managed to persuade Carrie that going back home was a terrible idea.
That evening, I lit a fire and we sat on the couch under a blanket. I snuggled Carrie in my arms, encouraging her until, haltingly, she told me more about her childhood.
“When I was twelve or something,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper, “my mom used to get her boyfriend to babysit me while she was at work. ‘Keep your hands to yourself, Ron!’ she’d say before she left. Because she knew. She knew he was a perv, and so did I. I was so scared of being alone with him, I used to climb out my bedroom window and wait in the yard till she got back.
“And this other guy—he used to show me dirty photos on his phone. My mom used to tell him to quit, but she never actually stopped him. She acted like he was just being a pain in the butt, kidding around, but those photos really freaked me out. They were like, full on. Girls being hurt and stuff.”
With every story, I got more and more sickened, and my admiration for my little wild girl grew. I knew she’d been through a lot, but this was off the scale. It was a miracle she still had her pure heart, and was capable of trust.
“I’m surprised you trusted me so easily,” I said, thinking aloud.
She regarded me seriously. “You’re different, Steele. Nothing like those guys. Believe me.”
Suddenly she looked wise—a lot older than her years.
I lifted her hand and kissed it. “I’ll never betray your trust,” I told her. I saw in her eyes that she believed me.
But it wasn’t enough.
Chapter 18
Steele
Next morning, when I opened my eyes, Carrie was standing at the foot of the bed, peering into the closet.
“What are you doing, baby?” I muttered, not really awake yet.
She turned around, and I saw with a lurch of dismay that her face was wet with tears.
“Hey, come here.” I threw the covers back and opened my arms. She ran into them, sobbing. “What’s going on?” I muttered into her hair.
“Steele, I’m so, so sorry, but I’ve got to go.” She was crying so hard, she could barely get the words out.
My gut tightened. “You mean go back to Texas? Carrie, we talked about this already. You can’t.”
She snuffled loudly. “I got another message from my mom.” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and showed me the screen:
Carrie, I need you to come take care of Destiny for a while. There's no one else.
I frowned. “Who’s Destiny?”
“My baby cousin.” Carrie swallowed hard. “The daughter of my mom’s sister. Who is just as screwed up as she is. She’s left Destiny with us a few times when she’s been in rehab or whatever.”
A sickening feeling began to creep through my veins. “How old is Destiny?” I asked.
“Twelve.” Carrie lifted her head and met my gaze. “She’s pretty, too.”
She didn’t have to spell it out. An even younger girl around Enzo? That was bad news.
I worked my jaw back and forth. “We can find a solution. Speak to child services.”
But she shook her head. “Things don’t work like that in the real world. They won’t do anything. I have to go back, Steele. I have to move back home and make sure Destiny’s okay. Like Mom says, there’s no one else.”
“Carrie, no. You’re not going back. You can’t put yourself in danger while trying to help your cousin out. You know that, don’t you?” My voice was loud, and she flinched.
“I have to!” she shouted back.
“But he’ll hurt you, too. I can’t allow this.”
Her face twisted. “I don’t have a choice. Don’t you get that?”
“You do have a choice. I’m telling you that. And you should trust me, because I’m your daddy. You should trust that I know what’s best for you.”
“I do believe you know what’s best for me,” she said. “B-but I need to think about Destiny, and my useless mom as well.” She tried to laugh, but it came out as a hiccup. “This isn’t real, Steele. It’s a game we’re playing, and… well, it’s time to enter the real world again.”
My veins filled with molten lead. “Carrie, listen to me. You’re not thinking straight. You’re putting yourself in a dangerous situation, and that’s no way of protecting your cousin. I forbid you from going back there. We’ll figure something else out.” My voice rang out in the small room, and she shrank away from me.
“I have a responsibility,” she said quietly, and her eyes were so full of sadness, it cut me. “It’s where I belong. These are my people. I need to make sure Destiny is safe—I need to keep her away from Enzo. And the only way I can do that is by being there.”
“What if her mom never collects her, Carrie? You can’t put your life on hold like that.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Steele, the decision has been made for me. It was made for me at birth. I’m not good enough for you. I’ve always known that, but I’ve tried not to think about it. You deserve someone who is your equal, your match in all things. Not some poor white trash little girl, with a fucked up family.”
All the air went out of me, and I couldn’t speak for a while. “Carrie you’re not trash. Far from it. You’re the most amazing person I can imagine. And you are my equal. You complement me in every way, and we’re so happy together. At least, I thought we were.”
She nodded miserably. “I was very happy, too. But I can’t be happy knowing that Enzo has this power over my mom and Destiny. They’re not strong. So I need to go back and be strong for them.”
“And if I tell you that you can
’t?”
She was silent for a while, her chest rising and falling. “I’m sorry, I have to.”
I ground my jaw back and forth. “This thing we’ve had going on between us. It meant nothing to you, did it?”
She gazed at me, and fresh tears ran down her face. “It means everything. I’ve loved being your little one.”
“But not enough to trust me to be your daddy forever. The minute it gets hard, you cut and run.”
“It’s not like that—” She broke off and clapped a hand over her mouth as she choked up with sobs again. “Steele, this is the worst decision I’ve ever had to make my life. These weeks I spent with you have been the happiest—maybe even the only happy—time of my entire life. But I have to go back and deal with this. I have responsibilities. Being here with you has always been like the most beautiful dream. You’re every girl’s fantasy.” She reached out and touched my thigh. “The best guy imaginable. But all of this—this ugliness—well, it’s a part of me. I’ve got to go and face it.”
“How will you get back?”
She exhaled hard. “I’ve got a passport.”
I shook my head. “What?”
“We were supposed to visit Enzo’s family in Mexico at one point, so we all got passports.”
I frowned. “But you didn’t use it to cross the border?”
“’Course not. Didn’t want them to track me here.”
I scanned her face in the dim light of the bedroom. “You’ve made your mind up, haven’t you?”
“I have,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper. “I’m so sorry. After all you’ve done for me… Maybe one day, I can come back—”
“Sure,” I snapped. A furious torrent of anger poured through me. I pushed her away from me, grabbed the clothes I’d left hanging over a chair, and stormed out of the room, no longer able to contain the emotions welling up inside me.