The Cowboy and the Girl in the Hot Pink Chaps

by Maggie Carpenter

“Nervous, excited,” she stammered.

  “I’m gonna braid your hair, then you’re gonna climb over my knee.”

  “B-braid my hair?”

  “Yep,” he replied picking up the brush and moving it through her long, blonde locks, “and while I’m doin’ that, I want you thinkin’ about why I’m gonna make your bottom sting.”

  “Okay.”

  “Make that, yes, Sir,” he whispered pressing his lips against her ear.

  “Yes, Sir,” she repeated, and as she uttered the words, a fresh flood of longing washed through her pussy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  With every tug of her hair, Dusty felt herself sink deeper under his magical pull. He was capturing her, seducing her, tantalizing her. Kneeling in only her chaps, her bottom naked and waiting for punishment, her skin was aching for his touch, and she longed to feel his cock filling her and riding her forward to the brink.

  “Please, couldn’t you just make love to me now and spank me later?” she whispered.

  He had reached the end of the braid, and was fastening it with an elastic tie.

  “Please?” she repeated.

  “No,” he said firmly, “and don’t ask again. I’m going to blindfold you. Close your eyes.”

  Just the thought made her gasp, and as the black satin touched the top of her cheekbones her heart skipped, and she gasped again.

  “Yep, blindfolds, they can be scary and excitin’ all at the same time,” he muttered as he knotted it at the back of her head. “Swizzle around and face me.”

  His hands gripped her upper arms as she turned, giving her a feeling of support, then slid down to her wrists and lifted them up.

  “Now I’m gonna make sure you don’t try to interfere when that hairbrush is swattin’ your backside.”

  “I won’t, I promise,” she whimpered.

  “This will make it easier for both of us,” he said winding a leather strap around her wrists and buckling it closed.

  Holding her face between his hands, he brought her lips to hers and softly kissed her. “I’m gonna sit back on the lounger, and I want you to crawl over me.”

  “I can’t see,” she mewed.

  “I’ll help you, come on now, come on forward.”

  His hand grasped her arm and guided her over his waiting lap, and as she lowered her body on to his thighs he shifted her into position.

  Lowering her head, she found the fuzzy cover comforting, and when his hand began to caress her upturned cheeks, she took a deep breath and almost relaxed. Almost. She knew his gentle fondling would be short-lived, and soon she’d learn what it meant to be spanked with a hairbrush.

  She’d heard about it of course. Gossip among the students at the barn, tales of a girl in trouble feeling the swat of her mother’s hairbrush on her backside, but she’d never felt such a thing. She’d never been spanked at all until Patrick had done the honors after the episode with Trixie Davenport.

  “You ready?”

  “I guess,” she squeaked.

  “Yes, Sir, or no, Sir.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Gazing at her pale globes framed by the hot pink chaps, the sight was enough to send a fresh sizzle into his loins. Her bottom looked so beautiful, raised up as it was and waiting for his discipline.

  “This view is just as I imagined it would be,” he murmured. “From now on, whenever I have to punish you, you’re to present yourself to me wearin’ these chaps.”

  Before she could respond his open palm landed swiftly, kissing her skin with a hot sting, then continued to bounce from cheek to cheek without pause. Burying her face in the fur cover, she let out some muffled yelps then wriggled in protest.

  “Sir,” she yelled lifting her head, “OW, Sir, OW.”

  “I’m just warmin’ you up a bit,” he remarked without pausing his hand. “I told you, this has gotta count. You’re not gonna be doin’ foolish things like that again.”

  “I won’t, OW! I swear!”

  “I want you to remember this,” he said sternly as his hand rose and fell.

  “I will, I will, OOWWW.”

  “It’s gettin‘ to be a real nice color,” he commented as he stopped spanking. “Feels good and hot. I think you’re about ready.”

  He’d left the hairbrush next to him, and picking it up he rested the wooden back on the center of her right cheek.

  “Dusty, this is gonna hurt. It’s mean to hurt. It’s a lesson. You understand?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she panted.

  “Tellin‘ me it hurts, askin‘ me to stop, it’s not gonna make a damn bit of difference, and I already know how many times I’m gonna land this hairbrush on your tush. Do we understand each other?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “All-righty then, bury your face in that cover again. Here we go.”

  He circled the polished wood across her skin for just a moment, then raising it up just a few inches, he flicked it down. Dusty let out a wail and kicked her feet, but Matt didn’t wait for her to settle before repeating the swat on her opposite cheek. She yelped again, and he quickly brought it to her sensitive sit spot just above the top of her chaps, smacking each side several times before returning to the center of her bottom and dispatching several sharp spanks before pausing.

  She was gyrating her hips from side to side, bleating into the lounger.

  “If I have to spank you for this again,” he said sternly as he rubbed the sting, “I’ll double the count and make the swats harder. You understand me?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she groaned.

  “You will not ever,” he decreed landing an additional, hard swat on each cheek eliciting a loud yowl, “put yourself in the company of anyone, man or woman, who could cause you harm, not in any way, are we clear?”

  “Yes, yes, Sir,” she howled.

  “Not in public, or private, or anywhere, and no ridin’ Licorice where you might be spotted by that lunatic. You sniff danger, you bolt. You’re not sure, you bolt, and you call me, no waitin’. You call me before anyone else.”

  “Yes, Sir, I will, I will.”

  Sighing heavily, he continued to rub until she settled, then slipping his hand between her legs he searched her wetness.

  “That spankin’ sure made you wet,” he crooned.

  “I don’t know why it makes want you so badly,” she bleated

  “I put this soft cover on this lounger ‘cos I knew your butt would be sore, but I’m thinkin’ I wanna take you from behind, and I wanna take you right now. Crawl off me and get on your hands and knees.”

  In spite of, or perhaps because of her burning bottom, her cunt was craving his cock, and as she scrabbled forward she felt him kneel behind her. As his fingers pushed into her saturated channel, she let out a cry and arched her back, begging for his entry.

  Gazing down at her scarlet skin, her legs encased in the pink leather all the way up her thighs, he felt a rush of energy. Grabbing the condom he’d left on the small table, he quickly sheathed himself, and resting his hands on her hot cheeks he plunged forward.

  “Oh, girl, I’m gonna fuck you good,” he groaned, “I know that’s what you want, and I want it too.”

  “It is,” she wailed, “it is.”

  Her visions of being gently laid on her back, his mouth softly nibbling her nipples, and his hands tenderly caressing her, had completely evaporated. She wanted his cock to ride her, to take her, to possess her.

  He was clutching her hips, and plunging himself in and out of her succulent depths, and she suddenly had a revelation. He was possessing her just as she wanted, but it was more than that; she was his to do with as he wished.

  Matt could feel her surrender. It wasn’t just her body yielding to its carnal need, but her being, her heart and her soul, was submitting to him.

  “Matt,” she wailed, “I’m there, please may I?”

  “Yes,” he growled, and closing his eyes, feeling her submissive energy cloak him, he let his cock fire.

  The sharp convulsions jolted
them both, and as the climax delivered its shuddering waves, uniting them in a mutual release, hot tingles sparkled through his limbs. Slowly they dissipated, and flaccid and drained he slipped out and fell next to her.

  She was breathless, repeating his name, and sliding the blindfold from her eyes, and unbuckling the leather strap from her wrists, he brought her into his arms.

  “Hey,” he crooned, “you okay?”

  “Matt, I felt something so big,” she panted as she nestled into him. “I don’t mean the orgasm, I mean…how I felt. How I feel,” she sputtered.

  “I know, baby, and you can tell me about it later. You just rest and catch your breath right now.”

  Holding her in his arms, Matt gazed across the lake at the heavy moon.

  You’re not the only one who surrendered, Dusty girl, I think I just lost my heart to you.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Matt blinked open his eyes. When they’d stumbled from the patio and fallen into bed in the early hours of the morning, he’d set his internal alarm clock for 6:30 a.m. It wasn’t that he wanted to get up early. On the contrary, lolling in bed with Dusty was a temptation almost impossible to resist, but he’d fallen behind at work and he had to catch up.

  Disengaging himself from her limbs, he rolled on to his side and found Jinx’s face resting on the edge of the bed, his wet black nose and dark eyes staring at him.

  “What’s up fella,” he whispered, “it’s early,” and glancing at the bedside clock he was relieved to see that it actually was. Jinx whined, wagged his furry tail, then trotted across to the bedroom door. He needed to go outside.

  Not wanting to wake Dusty, Matt crept from the bed and padded through the house with Jinx leading the way. Letting him out the kitchen door, he left it ajar, then yawning, he set his coffee pot to brew and decided to take a quick shower in the small bedroom off the laundry. There was no reason for Dusty to get up, and he was concerned the shower in his own bathroom would wake her. He’d get some work done in his study, then take her in a cup of coffee when it was time for her to rise and shine.

  Standing under the stream of hot water, he thought back to the divine sight of Dusty wandering on to the patio wearing nothing but her hot pink chaps. The erotic image sparked his cock to life, and lathering his hands, with salacious memories of the night before flashing through his mind, he brought himself to a quick and satisfying release. Leaning against the tile wall, he let out a long sigh.

  “Dusty Anderson, you are under my skin big time.”

  Shaking himself, he stood up and shampooed his thick mop of hair, and as his mind cleared, the inspired idea to deal with Slim Jim, compliments of Mary Jo, began to refine itself. If his plan evolved as he hoped, the entire drama with the nefarious horse thief would be over very quickly. There would be no bloodshed, and no danger of Licorice being hauled away by anyone.

  As he turned off the faucets and reached for a towel he decided to share his idea with Dusty. It was detailed and coherent, and not only did she have a right to know what he was about to do, it might help to ease her mind.

  Using a bath sheet to dry off, he wrapped it around his waist and headed back to his bedroom to dress. Dusty was still in a deep sleep, and stepping into his closet he donned pressed jeans, a white shirt and light tan boots. Moving quietly back to the kitchen, he stood for a moment, deciding what he wanted to eat. Unable to make up his mind he poked his head out the back door to look for Jinx, but his happy, exuberant dog was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, he closed the door and moved to the cupboard where he kept the cereal, and gazing at the boxes he shook his head.

  “No, I don’t want cereal,” he mumbled.

  “How about some pancakes?”

  Startled, he turned around and saw a sleepy Dusty dressed in his robe, leaning against the door frame.

  “Sweetie, I tried not to wake you,” he said moving across to hug her.

  “You didn’t, Jinxy did. He woke me up with a very big, slobbery kiss. It was delightful,” she grimaced scrunching her nose.

  “Oh, no! The only person allowed to wake you up with a big slobbery kiss is me, you hear that, Jinx, wherever you are?”

  The border collie peered around Dusty’s legs and stared up at him, a guilty look crossing his face.

  “How is it you know what I’m talkin’ about,” Matt chuckled, “and as for you, Miss Anderson, how is your gorgeous ass this mornin’?”

  “About how you’d expect,” she muttered dropping her head into his shoulder.

  “So you got the message then?”

  “Well, duh,” she retorted. “You’ll never have to worry about me having coffee with a biker again.”

  “You are such a smartass,” he scolded.

  “I know, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. I don’t cook many things, but I do make outstanding pancakes,” she said nuzzling her head against his chest. “Do you have flour and eggs and-”

  “I sure do,” he grinned interrupting her. “The pantry is through there.”

  “Oh, yes, I remember,” she yawned, and moving out of his arms she began walking across the kitchen. “May I ask why you’re up so early?”

  “A certain someone has kept me from my work,” he remarked pouring himself some coffee, “so now I have some catchin’ up to do.”

  “Ah, I see. Then I’d better not take too long making these,” she smiled. “A bowl?”

  “Cabinet to your left. I’m glad you’re up. There’s somethin’ I want to tell you. Somethin’ important.”

  “Really? Let me guess. You had a dream about being with me on the patio. I was wearing nothing but my hot pink chaps, and you spanked my poor butt with a hairbrush for absolutely no reason at all, then you made mad passionate love to me and stole my heart.”

  “Good guess, except I spanked your poor butt with a hairbrush because you were so foolish,” he corrected her, “then I made mad passionate love to you, and you stole my heart.”

  “I did?” she asked staring at him, her voice soft and low.

  “Uh, yeah, you kinda did, you kinda have,” he replied moving over to her.

  Impulsively he leaned in, and holding her head between his hands he began kissing her fervently, his lips full of the passion and love he was feeling. Breaking away, he silently led her to the kitchen table, sat her down, then settled next to her and took her hand.

  “I’m not sure how to say this,” he began searching for the right words. “I, uh, I meant what I said just now. I dunno if it’s ‘cos I’ve known you for so long, or because we have some kinda natural chemistry, but Dusty, I promise you, you’re becomin’…you’ve become…real special to me. It’s happened kinda quick, and maybe that’s because of all this trouble about Licorice, but it doesn’t matter why it’s happened, it has. Are you hearin’ me?”

  Dusty felt her heart swell, and fighting the lump in her throat she gazed into his deep brown eyes. She could see the love there, and she slowly nodded.

  “Matt, I am, and you know I’ve had a crush on you forever,” she sighed. “Obviously I didn’t know about how you are. The whole control thing, I mean, the discipline thing, and I admit it took me by surprise, but it’s weird, I really like it. No, that’s not true, I love it. I want it. I feel safe, and protected, and really cared for. Am I crazy? I’m sitting here and I’m sore, and I really love it. I must be crazy.”

  “Dusty,” he sighed, “you’re not crazy. We’re a match. If it ever gets too much though, you tell me, you have to. Promise me.”

  “Yes, Matt, I promise,” she nodded. “Last night, how do I put this? It felt real, as if I was being who I really am. Does that make sense?”

  “All the sense in the world,” he smiled, “and it makes me real happy to hear you say it.”

  “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Yep, and somethin’ else as well. I know what to do about Slim Jim, and Licorice, the whole thing.”

  “You’re kidding, really?”

&n
bsp; “Yep, and it’s clean and it’s honest. While you whip up those pancakes I’ll tell you exactly what I’m plannin’ to do, and you can tell Patrick when you see him. Let him know if he has any questions he can call me.”

  “I’m dying to hear,” she said eagerly.

  “Then start crackin’ those eggs.”

  Whipping up the pancake batter, she listened carefully as he relayed his idea, and after pouring them on to the hot, buttered griddle, she turned to face him.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked eager to hear her thoughts.

  “I can see why Silver Streak Saddlery has become so successful,” she smiled. “You’re right, that will solve the whole thing, assuming it goes as planned. There’s one thing that occurs to me though.”

  “Tell me. What did I miss’?”

  “It’s a timing issue. This will take a least a day or two, right?”

  “Well, yeah, of course.”

  “You’re assuming it will take Slim Jim that long to get his act together and rent a rig. What if it doesn’t? He’s assuming Licorice is at Patrick’s. If he gets a rig before we’re ready, and rolls up to Patrick’s barn and discovers he was wrong, he’ll come lookin’ for me. How can we stop that from happenin’?”

  “You’re right,” Matt nodded.

  “There aren’t that many haulers in town. I’ll jump on the phone and alert them that this creepy guy might be in touch and to turn him down.”

  “Will they do that for you? Turn away business?”

  “Sure. Patrick has his own van, but it’s a six horse. We use the two and three horse trailers all the time. I keep telling him to get one of his own, but he says it’s easier to pick up the phone than deal with another rig.”

  “This is perfect. I’ll call the manager over at Circus Stables. He has a haulin’ service, and he’ll work with me. Slim Jim will discover he’s the only game in town. We can determine exactly when he can get that trailer.”

  “I wonder if there are any other smaller stables that offer hauling that I don’t know about.”

  “I doubt it. I’m sure Patrick knows them all,” Matt remarked, “but regardless, I’m gonna push and make things happen quick.”