by Loki Renard
Marnie’s heart was in her mouth as Sam sat in the saddle, tall and straight, proud, like he belonged there. The sun glinted off his muscular torso. Damn, the man was ripped! She could grate cheese on those abs! His skin was evenly tanned. Despite the sun protection advice he drummed into her, he clearly ignored it on occasion.
The muscles in Sam’s arm and shoulder flexed impressively as he raised the whip high above his head, flicking his wrist forward and backward quickly, cracking the whip. It sounded like a gunshot and Marnie jumped, grabbing hold of the barn door to steady herself.
Fred didn’t move.
Sam flicked his wrist again, cracking the whip directly above his head, then he bent his arm, changing the angle of the whip, cracking it behind him, then in front, slicing the long grass next to Fred’s feet. Marnie couldn’t take her eyes off him. The way his muscles jumped with every tiny movement had her mesmerized.
Shifting position against the wall, her arm pressed against something hard against her boob. Her phone! She’d forgotten about that! She was so used to carrying it with her for so long that even though it didn’t work out here hardly at all, it was a matter of habit to just pick it up, tuck it inside her bra, and take it with her wherever she went that she did it without thinking. She did use it to take pictures occasionally, and uploaded them to Facebook when she went into Culverden to use the internet, but that was about it. But now, it was perfect. Scrolling through the home screen quickly, she touched the camera app. This was something she might never get to see again, especially not if Sam gave up fighting.
Bringing the phone lens into focus, Marnie braced herself solidly against the barn, trying to still her shaking hands enough to clearly video Sam. The muscles in his arm and shoulder bulged as he cracked the whip again, building up a rhythm, crack, crack, crack… crack, crack, crack… like the beat of a song. The whip moved so quickly she could hardly follow it, and the whip cracks pierced the air, sending chills through her.
Slowly, Sam started to spin the rope he held, twirling the lasso into a big loop above his head. He spun the rope faster and faster, his upper body moving gracefully in a perfect rhythm. At the same time, he kept up with the whip, cracking it high, low, behind him, in front, slowly, quickly, repeating the same beat over and over again.
Marnie couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move. Her breasts felt heavy, achy, her nipples hard. Her lady parts throbbed with arousal. She couldn’t take her eyes off Sam. The way each arm moved in a different direction, yet in the same rhythm, his pelvis shifting in time with the movements, his muscles flexing, was incredible.
The rhythm was perfect; Sam didn’t miss a beat. Still twirling the rope above his head, he picked up the pace of the whip a bit, double-cracking it on the downward stroke as he flung the long strip of leather out behind him, then brought it back past his body with another crack. How did the rope and the whip not get tangled up? Both of them were in the air at once, moving at high speed, but with so much precision. Once again, Sam was totally in control.
Fred started moving, just a walk at first. Sam’s back was to her now, but he was no less impressive. The muscles rippling in his back turned her on just as much as his abs did, and his shoulders were even better defined from this angle. Marnie was frozen, unable to look away.
They turned then, heading back toward her, and Sam saw her watching. His eyes locked on hers. She had the rhythm of the whip in her head now, and as she returned Sam’s gaze, that rhythm never wavered. Nor did the spinning of the rope. Sam looked more powerful than she’d ever seen him before.
“Marnie,” he called over the cracking of the whip, his voice clear and even. “Come here.”
She sucked in a breath, and took one tiny step forward. Then another. Then another. Fred continued to walk toward her. Sam cracked the whip slower now, in time with Fred’s steps, his eyes still fixed on hers. She wanted to back away, to turn and run… but she couldn’t. The spinning, the cracking, the impressive display of masculine perfection had her hypnotized.
Marnie’s chest was tight and the butterflies inside her were going crazy. Her palms were clammy, the phone was slippery. The gusset of her knickers grew damper with each step she took.
Suddenly, the rhythm of the whip changed. Instead of keeping time with Fred, Sam raised his arm higher and cracked the whip quickly, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack in quick succession. Before she knew what was happening, he threw the rope, the loop landing perfectly around her waist, tying her arms to her sides. Fred backed up, tightening the noose. The whip continued to crack, landing closer and closer to her with each loud report. She could see the grass being sliced just in front of her. She pulled back, but found she was held fast.
She tried to shriek, but no sound came out; she was helpless, powerless. Paralyzed. Not just by fear, but by arousal. The whip, the rope, the muscles, the whole package was the hottest thing she’d seen, ever.
Sam cracked the whip again, landing the lash right between her feet. He tugged on the rope looped tightly around her middle.
“Come to Daddy, little girl,” he growled. “You are in so much trouble!”
Held tightly in the leather bonds, Marnie was dragged to within just a few inches of Sam’s hard body. He glared down at her, his muscles gleaming in the setting sun, playing off the light sheen of sweat and dust. He smelled like horses and man musk.
“I don’t need to tell you that calling a customer a bitch is a bad idea, do I?” He growled the question, his blue eyes so stern she wished she could fall through the earth. Not that it would have worked. He would have caught her with this whip and dragged her right back, even from the gates of hell. There was no way of getting away from Sam once he set his sights on you. That made her afraid and secure all at the same time.
“Well…”
“The answer is no, little girl,” he growled, the muscle in his jaw clenching. “The answer is always no.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
She saw his eyes flash with arousal. He liked it when she called him Daddy, but she didn’t do it often because it made her feel small and embarrassed. Not right now though. Right now it felt right, and a little bit necessary.
“What am I going to do with you?” He purred the question, his blue eyes flashing. They both knew he already had the answer.
* * *
Goddamn. She deserved a whipping for what she’d said to that woman. He’d known Marnie had a mouth on her, but she’d still managed to shock him with that display of temper. Hearing her call a paying customer a bitch would be a moment he’d never forget. He knew she had city standards when it came to her behaviour, and he wasn’t above swearing himself, but not to a woman who was paying their way. That was utterly unacceptable. If she was just an employee, she’d be getting a written warning. As his little girl, she was going to get a whole lot more than that.
Her sudden complete submission threw him off a bit. The word ‘daddy’ coming out of her mouth made his cock rock hard. Unfortunately for Marnie, Sam enjoyed punishing her almost as much as he liked fucking her, and Marnie calling him Daddy wasn’t going to get her out of this. It was just going to make it more satisfying for the both of them.
“I only said that to her because she was trying to get with you.”
The pouty, sulky excuses had begun. He’d wondered where they were.
“You think I’m going to leave you for some random woman who can’t get on a horse?”
“Well, no…”
“So you just wanted to claim your territory?”
“I don’t know.” Marnie looked at her toes. “She was really rude to me, she looked at me like I was nothing, like just some messy, ugly farm girl.”
“Hey.” Sam reached out and tipped her chin back up. “That’s because she was a snob. How she treats you reflects on her, not you, and you know better than to act out like that. At least, I hope you do.”
“Yeah, I know,” Marnie admitted, her eyes sliding to the side. She was doing her best to avoid his gaze. Every
time she looked at him, her cheeks blushed in that adorable way, and her eyes shone a little brighter. This punishment had more than one purpose. He didn’t just need to teach her not to swear at customers. He also needed to teach her that she wasn’t bloody well replaceable with the first overly made-up woman who batted her fake eyelashes at him.
It was just as well Marnie hadn’t been on the ride, because that woman had spent the entire time trying to get his attention. It hadn’t worked. He wasn’t interested in anyone besides Marnie. She was the only woman he thought of, the only one he wanted. And the fact that she didn’t seem to know that worried him more than the swearing.
“You, young lady, are everything to me,” he said, leaning down and drawing her close, so they were nose to nose and there was nowhere for her to hide. “I love you, Marnie. I could take a trek of naked ladies out and I’d be thinking about you, understand? I’m a one-woman man. And you’re my woman. So you don’t need to mark your territory, or tell other women off. I’m the one who decides who gets me. And it’s you.”
She took a deep, quivering breath, and he saw tears forming in her eyes. Happy tears, he thought, given the way her lips were curling up into a little smile.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I really needed to hear that.”
“You’re not out of trouble,” he said. “Not at all. And by the time I’m done with you, little girl, you won’t need to hear this because you’ll know it. And every time you sit down, you’ll be reminded of it.”
“Sam…” Her voice was high and pleading. He shook his head. He wasn’t going to let her off this one. She really needed to understand what he was saying, and take it to heart. And she needed to know that their relationship wasn’t going to be one of those ones with a jealous girlfriend causing chaos and a guy too whipped to do anything about it. He held the whip in this relationship, and he knew how to use it too.
He released the whip with a flick of his wrist, urging the leather to unwrap from her disobedient body. There was a brief moment where triumph—and disappointment—flashed in her eyes, but she was celebrating too soon. He needed the whip off her waist so he could use it on her ass.
“Get into the barn,” he ordered. “And bend over a bale. Your choice.”
“Sam…”
“Go. Now.” He put an authoritative growl in his voice. He wasn’t going to be nice about this, even though it was meant to show her she was loved.
She lowered her head, turned around, and did as she was told. He followed after her, staying close behind as she scuffed her way over to a stack of bales, stopped in front of it, turned around and gave him a doe-like look under her lashes.
Sam stayed stern. “Over the bale, Marnie,” he said. “And you can pull your pants down too. You’re not going to be needing them.”
He stood with his arms folded, the whip firmly clenched and coiled in one hand as he waited for her to obey. She made for a sorry sight as her hands went to her pants and started pushing them down.
“Knickers too,” he snapped when he saw that she was trying to get around baring her bottom for him. That wasn’t going to fly. Naughty girls were punished on the bare, and they were punished long and hard.
She made quite a production out of it, her lower lip sticking out as her ass came into view slowly, her jeans inching down over her ass until she stopped with them just below her beautiful butt. Sam could have watched the show forever, but there was a punishment to give. He stepped forward, hooked his fingers in the back of her jeans and knickers, and yanked them down to her knees, giving her enough of a nudge at the same time that she went face down over the bale of hay and ended up with her ass presented perfectly, two cheeks nice and high, pale for now—but they’d be red soon enough.
“Keep your hands on the ground,” he ordered. “Don’t move them. You move, we start again.”
“Sam…” she whimpered his name again, but Sam wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Right now, he was her daddy. Her very displeased daddy who planned to give his little girl the whipping she deserved.
“Quiet, little girl,” he growled, uncoiling the whip with a flourish that made the tip snap in the air. “The time for you to talk is over. It’s time for you to listen. And feel.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, breaking his rule right away. Sam shook his head and cracked the whip over her head, the tail breaking the sound barrier with a sharp sonic boom that made her jolt in place.
“I said quiet,” he repeated. “I’m not playing with you right now, Marnie. This is the most serious punishment I’ve ever given you, and if you pay attention and learn your lesson, it might be the most serious one you ever get.”
He could tell she was just bursting to talk, to apologize, to plead for her ass, but she managed to keep her tongue in check for once. Good. She was learning.
Sam took a few steps back. He needed space to let the whip run out. This was going to be some precision work on a very delicate target. He’d needed to get his eye in if he was going to whip his little girl into shape. That was why he’d started out with a bit of practice before getting Marnie—not that she’d waited to be gotten, of course. She was impatient for everything, including her punishments.
Marnie was terrified, that was obvious by the way she was trembling slightly. But the dewy wetness glistening from that little spot between her thighs told him that she was aroused, too. Her body always responded in a beautiful way to his punishments. It started responding the second he put the steel into his voice. Right now, her palms were flat on the ground in front of her just as he’d instructed, but he knew that wouldn’t last long. After just a few lashes of his whip he knew she’d be leaping up, twisting and squirming, trying to avoid what she had coming. He smirked. Maybe he’d have to make use of the rope he’d used to reel her in, to tie her in place.
Taking a deep breath, he shook the whip lightly, adjusting his grip. He couldn’t afford to stuff this up. If he missed, Marnie could be hurt, and he didn’t want that. Leaning back, he took careful aim, lining the whip up carefully before flicking his wrist, sending the tip flying to land right in the centre of her left buttock. As expected, she screeched when the lash bit into her tender skin and rocked forward, clenching her bottom. Without a pause he let the whip fly again, this time making it bite the same spot on her right buttock. She screamed the second time too, her whole body tensed up and she lifted up off the bale, nearly straightening up.
Sam strode forward, reached down and pressed her back into position. “No, don’t move. This has barely started, little girl. Hands back on the ground.” She didn’t want to obey him; he had to press her firmly to make her bend over the bale again. Her perfect, pale ass was now marred by two distinct red lines, running parallel, one on each cheek. He tossed the whip lightly in his hand. This strip of plaited leather had been in his life for a long time. It came in handy for mustering stock, he could crack the beat of the national anthem, cut the twine on a bale of hay, slice individual blades of grass, and he’d even entered a few whip-cracking contests at A&P shows. But never before had accuracy mattered quite as much as it did now.
Taking his position further back, Sam sent the whip flying again. It cracked it just above her head, the sound echoing loudly through the barn and making her jump.
“I love you, Marnie,” he told her, letting the whip fly again, making the tip land just beneath the first one, in a stinging kiss that made her squeal in pain and bolt upright, her hands flying to her backside.
“No, keep still,” he growled, coming forward yet again. “Move again, and I’ll tie you in place. And we’ll start this again, from the beginning. You don’t want to make me do that.”
A single tear tracked a solitary path down her dusty cheek and he longed to kiss it away. Instead, he brushed it roughly with his thumb, smiling at her gently. “Back into position,” he reminded her, the steel gone from his voice.
She obeyed him, her vulnerable position displaying her arousal to him. Her trembling thighs indicated she w
as afraid, but her glistening sex proved the pleasure was winning out over the pain.
Again he returned to his position. Raising the whip above his head, Sam cracked it twice, quickly, before flicking it out to bite her beautiful ass again. Marnie yelped, but aside from wiggling her hips, she stayed still.
“Good girl,” he purred, pleased that she remained in position.
“I’m sorry, Daddy!” she yelled, her voice breaking. Her gentle sobbing almost made him halt the punishment, but a quick glance between her legs at her swollen pussy lips, her hungry clit, made him change his mind. Her ass might be on fire, but her traitorous body was enjoying this whipping. Coiling his whip for a moment, he came back to her, reached down and cupped her dripping mound in his palm, flicking her clit with the tip of his finger. She moaned in response, arching her back, offering herself to him. His rock-hard cock strained against his pants at her lewd display of wanton lust. A growl escaped his throat. He pulled his hand away; she moaned in protest.
He still wasn’t done though, not by half. He stepped back into position, leaving her squirming over the hay. Sam flicked out his whip, before raising it high, cracking it above his head, making her jump. It was like a dance where neither of them knew the steps and they had to make it up as they went along, but their bodies flowed together in perfect union, fitting into each other, no matter which direction they moved.
“Such a naughty girl, Marnie.”
The air was electric between them. He cracked the whip again, lower this time, directly over her back. He felt the rush of air against his face from the flying lash. Could Marnie feel it too? As he watched, a shiver rippled down her spine. She felt it.