Goldie & the Three Doms

by Patricia Green

  All through the horse-and-leather-scented stable, Goldie wondered about the man who led the way. He tapped his crop against his booted leg impatiently. He hadn’t smiled; maybe smiles didn’t come easy to him; maybe he was a natural grump. Perhaps it was a mistake to accept punishment from someone she’d just met. But she was on this journey for the adventure. She wanted to experience men with powerful personalities and rigid…demands.

  They reached the breezeway of a sprawling red brick house, and entered through wide double-doors. The interior was black and white with red accents, stark and cold. Everything was positioned at right angles. The air conditioning left things chilly to the point of discomfort. Goldie rubbed her arms.

  “I have a track on the other side of the house,” Raoul told her.

  “Track?”

  “For pony-girls. They amuse me.”

  Goldie stared at his back. “I don’t know what a pony-girl is.”

  He looked over his shoulder and an evil smile played on his lips. “You’ll see.”

  If this guy gets any creepier, adventure be damned, I’m outta here.

  At the other side of the house, he unlocked a red door, and motioned for her to cross the threshold first. Her initial impression was that it was a jogging track. There was a giant oval painted on the wooden floor. On closer inspection, some limited grandstand seating was apparent in the middle of the oval, and in a dim corner there was a little buggy just big enough for one person to ride in.

  Raoul closed the door but didn’t lock it. Goldie relaxed a little. There was a way out if she needed it. “I want you to wear pony tack, so you’ll have to take off your clothes.”

  Naked was no surprise, but equine tack? “You’re going to dress me up like a horse?”

  He nodded. “Yes, and you’re going to pull me in the buggy around the track.”

  “Wow,” she said softly. “You really are kinky.”

  Laughing, he gestured to her body, and she got the hint. Goldie took off her clothes.

  He dressed her up in a fancy bridle—complete with a bit for her mouth—and a leather harness that had straps looping around her chest at the nipples and tight around her waist. There was a band that went from her waist, through her legs and up around the crease in her butt where it sprouted a thick, glossy horse’s tail of palomino gold. She wore towering platform shoes that clip-clopped on the floor, and there was a bright blue plume at the top of her headstall. She looked in a cheval glass and her eyes got wide. The getup was sexy! She looked sporty and sleek, like a thoroughbred.

  “Trot around the track once.”

  Playful and thinking that this was a pretty easy punishment for stealing apples, Goldie trotted around the track. She loved the sound her shoes made and the swish of her tail against her thighs and the backs of her knees. The straps made her nipples ache pleasantly, and the strap though her legs sensitized her pussy.

  Raoul stood there, watching her, and when she got back to him, she could see his riding pants bulge where a thick erection had arisen. “Lovely.” His voice was dreamy and unfocused. After a moment of staring at her, he reached for the zipper in his pants and pointed to the floor. “Get down and use your mouth on me.”

  “Ah cand.”

  “Oh, right.” He took the bit out of her mouth and resumed his stern expression, watching as she sank to her knees in front of him.

  Raoul released his rampant rod and Goldie took it reverently in her hands. She’d done this once before, a long time ago, and only for a few minutes. This is adventure! This is exactly what I wanted. I wonder if he’ll let me keep the outfit.

  Tenderly, she stroked his engorged penis. Her fingers traveled up, down, up again, and lovingly over the velvet head. A drop of moisture formed at the opening, and she touched her tongue to it, surprised and delighted by its umami goodness. She trailed her tongue down his length a few times, then took the bulbous head in her mouth and sucked gently. Her tongue wrapped around it, then slid over the sensitive flesh with surer strokes. Raoul was rapt, gripping his riding crop, white knuckled. She bobbed up and down on him for a while, and he released the riding crop, reaching for her head in order to direct her speed and depth. He wrapped his hands in her golden mane and thrust his hips forward. Goldie cupped his balls and fondled them while he compelled her to take him deep in her throat. It was a little much for her, but it sent a delicious thrill through her middle. In a few seconds, he let up so that she could take a deep breath and continue more comfortably. He swelled even bigger in her mouth, and his balls tightened. Panting, he rocked his hips faster. She was so happy she hummed. Raoul groaned and forced himself deep into her throat again, spurting his happiness like a tiny fountain.

  She gasped and rocked back on her heels. His eyes were half-lidded, his mouth turned up with a content smile.

  After a minute, he tucked himself back into his pants, shook his head a bit and pointed to the buggy. “I know you don’t trust me, but I’ll give you a safe word and I promise that if you use it, I’ll stop immediately. Okay?”

  Goldie nodded.

  He reached down and helped her put the bit back in her mouth. “With that bit in your mouth, you will have difficulty pronouncing anything, so we’ll have a safe gesture. Just wave your arms in the air, straight over your head like a sports fan.”

  Again, she nodded.

  It took a little effort, but eventually she was in the harness of the buggy. It was a chariot-like thing with two wheels, but unlike a chariot, it had a seat for the driver. Raoul attached reins to her chest harness and off they went around the track. It wasn’t hard to pull the buggy. The wheels were big and the floor smooth. She high-stepped around about half-way, when all of a sudden a stinging swat landed on the right side of her butt.

  “Ow!” she exclaimed, although it sounded more like “owl” with the bit in her mouth. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see Raoul smiling and waving his riding crop. As she turned back, he struck her again, this time on the left side. She protested by stopping.

  “Keep going,” he told her, smacking her on her ass again.

  Goldie continued around the track, picking up three more swats as she went. She wondered how she could have possibly been eager to feel that crop. It hurt and wasn’t sexy at all.

  Her rear was well and truly sore by the time she’d been around the track twice. The riding crop hurt something fierce, and she figured she’d paid the price of the apples and then some. When he struck her one more time, she stopped and waved her hands in the air vigorously.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, getting down from his seat and approaching her on the right.

  She shook her head. “O, ah nah ogay,” she said around the bit.

  Raoul removed the bit and bridle. “Talk to me.”

  “That crop hurts! I want to quit. I think I’ve paid for the apples.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I suppose so.” His head tilted to the side. “Say, you’re a good sport. Do you want to stick around for a few days and see if we’re compatible?”

  “No, thanks. That crop is too hard. If you don’t mind, we can just call it even.”

  Raoul’s mouth drooped at the corners. “Would you like some more apples as you go?”

  Goldie dressed, took her apples and headed back for her speeder, roundly rejecting Raoul Ramirez’s roughness.

  Chapter 4

  The orchard path wasn’t marked well and Goldie took a wrong turn on the way back to her ride. The aroma of apples all around her soon made her addled and she wandered until she found the highway. She’d gone much further north than she wanted to, and her speeder was south on the highway. Looking right and left, she saw that if she traveled north further, she’d approach a large stone structure, a lot like a castle, to the north. It wasn’t far, and who knew how far back her speeder was, so she went north on the road, following the middle route of the fork. Maybe she could get a ride back to her speeder from someone at the castle.

  She trudged along until she was about a hundred meters
from the building. It wasn’t a castle, but a rock mansion, with mullioned windows and pennants flying from the roof corners.

  “Hey!”

  Goldie heard the masculine yell, but didn’t see where it came from, until a man waved at her from a window on the second floor. “Hello!” she called.

  “You’re trespassing,” he told her. A dog barked nearby.

  She bit her lip, tired and sore both on her bottom from the riding crop and her feet from the long trudge up the road. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”

  “What do you want?” he yelled from his portal.

  “Would a drink of water be too much bother? I’ve been traveling for quite some time. I need a few minutes to rest and a drink of water before I move along.”

  His brown hair blew in the breeze while he considered. After a few moments, a smile lit his face. “Okay. I’ll let you in. Meet me at the front door.”

  Goldie crunched along the gravel driveway until she reached the tall, wooden front doors. They opened as she approached. The man stood there, still smiling, and she got a better look at his face: square jaw, high forehead, Roman nose, and full, sensual lips. His eyes were deep green, like a summer meadow. Her middle went pleasantly gooey. Returning his smile, she entered the mansion as he gestured her forward.

  “Welcome to Midlin Manor,” he said, his voice low and melodious, now that he wasn’t yelling. A big, shaggy dog ran over to her and put his cold nose in her hand. “Spot, get down.”

  “Thank you,” she said, petting Spot on his head. “He isn’t spotted.”

  “That’s the fun of it!” the man explained. She couldn’t help but smile.

  The interior of the manor was light and airy from many mullioned windows, and the décor was tidy and had a personal feel to it, with art on the walls, in niches and on pedestals. “You have a lovely home.”

  “Thanks.” Offering his hand, he told her, “I’m Markus Masterton.” He pushed his wind-blown hair off his forehead and led her into a sitting room. “Please have a seat. I’ll have some water brought.” As she sat, he pressed a button on a box and spoke into it, asking for a carafe of water.

  When he was done, she gestured to herself and said, “I’m Goldie, and I’m looking for a man who’s just right.”

  He looked her up and down, eyes lingering on her face, and once again, he smiled. Goldie heated from head to toe. “I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for. So, how did you come to be traveling down the road?”

  Goldie related her adventures. His pleasant expression and nods suggested that he was genuinely listening to her. “So that’s how I came to be here.” She patted her pocket. “Want an apple?”

  He shook his head, and thanked the butler who brought the water. Goldie drank thirstily.

  They chatted for a while, then shared a little dinner out on his lanai in the back. His gardens were manicured but natural looking, with fragrant flowers and no forced figures or fanciful frou-frous. The heat had diminished and a few scattered high clouds were scudding through the sky. It was quite pleasant to sit with him and enjoy fine weather and the garden’s beauty.

  “You know,” he said. “You’re a decent sort of girl. Do you play gin rummy?”

  Gin rummy was one of her favorite games. “Yes!”

  He grinned. “We’ll play for clothing. If you win a hand, I’ll take off something. If I win, you’ll do the same. Sound fair?”

  Delicious! “Okay.”

  The manservant brought cards and Markus dealt. At first, the game was one-sided. Goldie won hand after hand, until Markus was down to his boxers. Then, he had a flurry of wins. Goldie found herself naked. But she didn’t mind. She kind of liked being naked with Markus.

  His eyes lingered on her breasts and the curve of her hips. “You’re awfully pretty,” he told her. “What kind of man are you looking for?”

  It was the first time through her adventure that anyone had asked her to describe what she wanted. Her heart beat harder. “Someone firm, but with a sense of humor. A man with self-discipline, who can impose a little discipline on me. He should be handsome, tall, rich, and generous. He needs to like children and animals and give money to charity. Most of all, he should be adventurous in the bedroom.”

  Markus sat back in his chair and pursed his lips. “I think you’ve been naughty, Goldie. You went with strange men, stole apples, and trespassed.” His green eyes glittered with good humor. “Seems to me that you should be punished.”

  “Oh no!” she cried, breasts jiggling as she leapt up. “No more riding crops! No more feathers!”

  “I’m not interested in those things either.”

  She peered at him. There was an open, relaxed look on his face. He was telling the truth. “You’re not?’

  Markus shook his head. “No.”

  “Well…” Biting her lip, she went on. “You are a Dom, right?”

  “Oh definitely, yes.”

  “I guess I have been kind of naughty. What did you have in mind? I’ve got to tell you, I’m not a slut so I draw the line at penetration.”

  “No negotiation, Goldie. If we go forward, you’ll do as I say or use a safe word. Got that?”

  She nodded, wondering what bizarre kink he was into. If he wanted her to wear horse tack, she was outta there. A ballerina’s tutu, though, would be okay.

  “Your safe word is ‘uncle.’” He patted his lap. “Now come here for a spanking.”

  “A spanking?” That’s more like it! A delighted thrill went through her.

  Markus patted his thighs again. “Now, or off you go.”

  Wriggling a little with excitement, Goldie laid herself across Markus’ lap. He had no paddle and wore no belt, all he had was his big hand and a growing erection. Either of which Goldie could get into.

  “You’ll get ten smacks for going with strange men; ten smacks for stealing; and a final ten for trespassing.”

  Her butt had recovered from the riding crop. How bad can thirty spanks be? “Okay.”

  She jumped, startled. That first spank tingled. The second did, too. By the fifth strike, however, her butt was warm. “Ow!”

  “We’re just getting started, Goldie,” he warned her, laying another slap on her behind.

  She whimpered on the tenth strike. It hurts!

  He paused to caress her hot rear. It was sensual, and soon his fingers found her privates. “Wet.” A happy lilt played in his voice. “I guess you’re having a good time.”

  Her ass was hot, her thighs smarted, tears welled in her eyes. But she had electric sparks shooting from her nipples to her pussy with every sharp whack to her bottom. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

  “Don’t stop, ‘Sir,’” he told her.

  “Don’t stop, Sir,” she agreed, enjoying the sound of that appellation on her lips.

  Without warning, he started spanking her again. Fifteen smacks, twenty-five. She was crying softly at thirty. Once again, his hard hand gentled her burning ass. Will I be able to sit after this?

  He helped her reposition herself on his lap, cuddled in his arms. Sitting was a little uncomfortable, but cuddling made it a lot better. “I’m sorry I was naughty,” she told him, noting the firm erection pressing against her hip.

  “I know, sweetie.”

  She wriggled and he drew in a sharp breath. “Aren’t you uncomfortable? Do you want me to give you head?”

  “I can wait until you’re recovered a bit.”

  It was so self-disciplined of him to be concerned about her rather than only focused on his own discomfort. “Thank you.”

  She snuggled in for a pair of minutes, and he touched her breasts as she calmed, making her all keyed up again. His fingers tested her hardening nipples. She sensed that he was watching her reaction. A warm flush stole over her as he pinched the tip of her breast. The pain of his pull and twist sent a lance of excitement through her pussy. Goldie’s clit began to throb with need.

  Markus’ hand slid between her thighs and simply rested on her quim. In res
ponse, she arched, offering more, more of everything and every part of her. How is it that this guy turns me into jelly when no one else can? He drew his fingers through her folds, until he concentrated her slick wetness on her aching clit. As it swelled, he took her sensitive nubbin in his fingers and squeezed, then squeezed harder. Goldie gasped. It hurt, but a thrill of hot flame roared through her womb.

  “You may not come until I give you permission, Goldie,” he told her.

  “But-“

  “Absolutely not. If you do, I’ll punish you with another 30 on the bare.”

  Her bottom was still hot and stung; another spanking sounded unpleasant, no matter that the first one had been stimulating. “Okay,” she agreed.

  “Good.” With that, he rose with her in his arms, carrying her as though she was a feather pillow. They went up a curved flight of stairs, and into a big bedroom. It was a masculine room, with muted blue paisley wallpaper and dark walnut furniture. He sat on the embroidered counterpane with Goldie in his lap, and lowered his head to find her mouth with his.

  His lips were warm and moist, and his tongue teased the tip of hers. He became more aggressive, plunging his tongue into her mouth in a rhythm she recognized, and she teasingly nipped. His answer was to pinch her nipple until she opened her mouth with a gasp and moan. “No teeth, sweetheart,” he warned her, pinching the other nipple hard as well.

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered on a needy whimper.

  He moved her onto the bed and her knees naturally fell open. Cool air was a balm to her swollen and wet pussy, but she didn’t want to lose her excitement level, so she moved a hand to that tender flesh and began rubbing.

  Markus’ frown was immediate, and he swatted her hand. “No! Mine!”

  Was she his? Did she want to be his? She couldn’t remember ever having a beau who intrigued, delighted and seduced her so well.

  Instead of arguing the merits of masturbation with him, she surrendered. His face cleared and a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth. He climbed between her legs and rubbed his hot erection over her mons and the juncture of her thigh and belly.