Taming His Wild Girl (Wild Whip Ranch Book 2)

by Lee Savino

  No! Yes! my body screamed at the same time.

  At first it felt thinner than his cock, but it got wider and wider. Too wide. What the hell is that? I started to panic.

  Then, with a pop, my tight ring yielded and it went right in.

  “There.” Joel stepped in front of me again, but the thing was still there, holding my ass wide open.

  “If only you knew how beautiful you look right now,” he commented. “Mouth and ass trained at the same time—wait—let me show you.”

  He moved away again, there was little click, and suddenly his phone was held in front of my face. I drew in a breath through my nostrils. There I was, chained up, naked except for sets of black cuffs around my wrists, ankles, and neck. There was something black and circular between my ass cheeks, and beneath was my bare pussy, bright pink and glistening. I’d never seen myself like that before. The gag just looked like a leather strap tied around my head. No one would have known how it filled my mouth to bursting, pushed at the back of my throat.

  “Perfect,” Joel said, reverently, and put the phone away.

  He went over to the wall and spent a while examining the different pieces of equipment that were hanging from the hooks.

  I began to shiver from a mixture of anticipation and fear. Now I was all trussed up like this, what was he planning to do with me?

  At last, he returned holding something long and black.

  “Know what this is?” He brought it close, so I could focus on it. It was a stick, with an inch-long leather tag on the end. Some kind of whip.

  “A riding crop,” he supplied, since I was currently incapable of answering. He tapped the tip against his palm and it made a loud slapping sound. “Useful for giving horses a little encouragement when they need waking up.”

  Horses? I shuddered. Their hide was a hell of a lot thicker than mine.

  “Wondering how it feels on bare skin?” He laughed, as if to himself. “I bet you are.”

  I squirmed, kind of freaked out at how much he was enjoying me not being able to reply.

  He touched the leather tag to my shoulder blades, then began to run it down the length of my back. It felt nice at first, soothing, but my skin prickled, anticipating its bite.

  He traced a path down, over the globes of my ass. When he prodded the butt plug, my ass spasmed. Fuck. I was about three steps away from coming.

  Slap! went the crop. I yelled around the gag. I barely had time to register that he’d whipped me before it came down again, slap, on my other cheek.

  Wow, it stung, in a completely different way to his hand.

  Slap! Slap! he went, on alternating sides. Each stroke was harder than the last. Another, and another, and another. Searing white-hot stripes into my flesh. It burned like crazy, and I gritted my teeth against each one. My ass was on fire; my pussy ached like never before.

  At last, he stopped and laid a cool hand on my burning skin. He stroked it gently, taking some of the heat out of it.

  “You look like a tiger. Or a zebra.” He chuckled. “How’d you like to be my little zebra girl?”

  I made a non-committal sound.

  “Oh, I forgot—”

  He came around, and unfastened the buckle behind my head.

  “I think your mouth has been trained for long enough today.”

  When he pulled out the gag, I was embarrassed at how much I’d drooled around it.

  “Good girl,” he murmured.

  His cock jutted out, near my face, rock hard and engorged, and it was no surprise when he pushed it into my mouth instead.

  It went in easier than before—guess the mouth training really worked, I thought as it hit the back of my throat and I managed not to choke on it.

  “Good,” he muttered as he began to thrust his hips, pushing deeper into my throat every time. His velvety skin was a relief after the hard plastic and I sucked on him eagerly, wanting to please him, to take him all.

  He held my head, thrusting in and out, using my mouth like it was my pussy. I loved it, loved the pleasure I was giving him, and I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter.

  Suddenly, he pulled away. When he shoved his fingers into my pussy, I made an animal sound of need. I was so turned on, it hurt.

  “What do you want?” he asked, fucking me with his fingers.

  “To come,” I managed to say. My jaw ached like crazy, and my voice was a croak.

  “I’m not sure if you deserve it.” He took hold of the butt plug and pulled a little.

  I whimpered in anticipation.

  “Nope. Not ready yet.” Abruptly, he took his hands away.

  Fuck. He was determined to tease me today. I wriggled on the bench, trying to grind my clit on the leather surface.

  He clicked his tongue. “Nuh-uh. I definitely did not give you permission to do that.”

  He went over to the equipment and returned with something else. “And for that, you’ve earned yourself a punishment.”

  Crack! went something heavy against my ass.

  It was heavier than his hand, and it shocked me.

  Crack! On my right side.

  “This is a paddle. It’s for very naughty girls,” he commented. “Usually they’re not so naughty afterwards. I’m going to give you ten strokes, and I want you to count them.”

  Count them? What the hell?

  Crack!

  “Ouch, goddammit.” That was a lot harder.

  “You’re going to count ten,” he said in an amused tone. “And the sooner you start counting, the sooner they’ll be finished.

  “One,” I snapped.

  “Good girl.”

  Crack!

  “Two!”

  By three, my tone was no longer sulky, and by five, tears had sprung to my eyes. This was a different kind of pain from either his hand or the crop. It was solid, relentless. I heard the whoosh as it sailed through the air, and kicked my legs up to protect myself from its assault.

  Joel stopped dead, then he pushed my legs down. “That, right there—that’s earned you another two.”

  “What?” I started to say as the paddle came down again.

  Eight-nine-ten were unbearable. Eleven came out in a sob, and at twelve, I was gasping for mercy.

  Finally, it was over.

  “Good girl,” Joel crooned. His hands cupped my ass, and suddenly, his cock was there, right where I needed it.

  He penetrated my pussy in one hard thrust. As he filled me up, I saw stars. The plug was still in my ass, my ass cheeks on fire, and Joel’s big, thick cock was ploughing into me.

  His hands reached around, underneath me, and suddenly, my nipples were on fire again.

  “Just removing the clamps,” he said. “They’ll smart for a couple of minutes as the blood supply returns.

  Smart was an understatement. They hurt like crazy. But his cock was the distraction I needed.

  Four, five rough thrusts, and I started to come. He gripped my shoulders and fucked me hard, mercilessly, as my pussy spasmed around his cock and my body filled with pure ecstasy. Nothing but a galaxy of hot, sparkly ecstasy. Pain and pleasure endlessly entwined, until I was a helpless, trembling ball of gratification.

  My pussy was still throbbing when he pulled the butt plug out of me. He made a sound of satisfaction, like he was pleased with his handiwork. For a second, I missed the stimulation in my ass, and then his cock was entering me instead. My asshole stretched some more as his cock pushed its way in, and he began to screw me with the same relentless rhythm.

  I could take it. I was ready for him. His hips butted against my ass cheeks, and I realized he was all the way in, inside my ass.

  “Want me to come in your ass?” he grunted.

  “Yes,” I managed to say.

  Three more thrusts, and he ejaculated deep inside me. In my dark, forbidden place. His orgasm came with a roar of satisfaction.

  “Good girl,” he muttered. “You did good for your dom.”

  Chapter 14

  Joel


  My cop buddies Dave and Trey were wearing identical serious expressions. They were two of my oldest buddies—we’d grown up together, riding horses, playing ball, and occasionally raising hell. Then they’d gone to the Mountie academy, like their daddies, and I’d taken over the ranch.

  They didn’t know a whole lot about my darker proclivities, but I didn’t hide anything else from them.

  When I mentioned Isabelle’s name, Trey butted in.

  “Wait—that was the girl you used to like?” He broke into a slow smile and jabbed a finger at me. “I remember. You said she was the one, but she was way too young. You had this plan to wait till she was all grown up, then you were gonna go find her. Surprise her at the end of Swan Lake with a bunch of flowers or some shit.”

  Good old Trey, sensitive as ever.

  I told them the whole story of Isabelle’s family tragedy, and everything she’d been through in the past few years, until she wound up enslaved by the Albanian mafia.

  “Shit, that’s bad news,” Dave said. “They’re a vicious bunch of thugs.”

  “So you’re aware of them?”

  He nodded. “They’re out of our jurisdiction, but believe me, all the forces in BC have them on their radar. They crawled over from Seattle when they were getting too much heat from the cops there, and they’re spreading into these small towns, little by little. That’s what they do. They set up these legit—sleazy but legit—businesses. Keep their books clean. They’re not as dumb as they look. But they’re real brutal. They make the Italians and Russians look like kindergarteners stealing cookies.”

  I worked my jaw back and forth. “From some of the stuff Isabelle’s been telling me, that doesn’t surprise me.”

  Dave leaned closer, fixing me with his shrewd expression. “We’ve been looking for a case we can build against them for a long time. Get a bunch of them behind bars, and the rest of them out of BC, once and for all. But we’ve never had the ammunition. This could be it, though. You think she’d be willing to testify against them?”

  I frowned. “Wouldn’t that be dangerous for her? I’ve heard mafia snitches don’t have good outcomes.”

  “She could testify anonymously.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to put her in any danger, period. Don’t want her spending the rest of her life in witness protection or anything like that. The girl’s been through more than enough.”

  Dave cracked his knuckles. “That’s all way down the line, anyway. Imagine how many other girls they’ve enslaved over the years. If she’ll just give us some information, off the record, it could go a long way to getting a search warrant at least—”

  “I’ll speak to her about it,” I cut him off, wanting to focus on the most important thing right now. “But how can I make sure they’re off her back right now?”

  “You could get a restraining order,” Trey said.

  I shot a look at Dave.

  He nodded. “That’s a good idea. It’ll demonstrate to them that if anything were to happen to Isabelle, they’ll automatically become suspect number one.”

  I exhaled slowly. “Okay. Makes sense.”

  Ten minutes later, the order was filled out, and we were fixing plans to go for beers next week so they could meet Isabelle.

  Dave slung an arm around my shoulders. “I’m happy you’re married, man. But I sure wish I’d been invited to your wedding. I’ve been planning my best man speech since we were this high.”

  I snorted. “What makes you think I’d pick you, anyway?”

  Dave rolled his eyes toward Trey. “You were gonna pick him?”

  Trey scowled. “Fuck you. I’d do a good job.”

  I grinned. It was always the same when the three of us got together. Like we were all fifteen again, constantly busting each other’s balls.

  “I’ll give Isabelle a real wedding someday,” I said. “Then you can both be best man. So there’ll be half the chance you’ll screw up.”

  I felt a little lighter as I bounded down the steps of the policing office.

  I’d made Isabelle my legal wife. I’d told the mob to go screw themselves. And now I’d gotten a restraining order against them as well.

  We were in the clear. And her trust fund was safe.

  That didn’t mean things were going to be easy from now on. Isabelle Stevens was a ton more complicated than I’d understood at first. Even more broken and edgy.

  When we played together, everything was perfect. Collaring her had been a stroke of genius. The moment I’d slipped it around her neck, I’d sensed her turn soft and pliant—before she even understood what it meant. She’d slipped right into subspace.

  But the rest of the time, she was as withdrawn as ever.

  She’d seemed to open up to me, back in Shelbrook. A tightly-folded bud finally unfurling. But this morning, when I’d woken her up with a kiss, she’d been all closed in again. All monosyllabic and tense.

  Hot-cold, hot-cold. It was more than a guy like me was used to.

  But I wasn’t about to give up on her.

  Not a chance in hell.

  If she only opened up to me when I made her submit, hell, I’d fuck her senseless day and night. My cock responded instantly, standing to attention. I smiled to myself. She had such a capacity for pleasure and pain. Such a need for my cock. I’d never met a girl like her before. She truly was the kinky partner I’d always dreamed of.

  I looked for her as I pulled into the yard. I’d left her watering the rows of shrubs along the walkways. She didn’t know that I’d been to see the cops. I wanted to see what the guys thought about the situation first. But I’d tell her about it, I decided. Hopefully it would smooth the worry out of that tense little forehead of hers.

  Isabelle

  You owe me something tinkerbel.

  I opened the message and read the ugly words again and again. I wanted to block the number, but that would be dumb. I needed to be able to communicate with them.

  Yesterday, I’d somehow hoped I could ignore them. I’d convinced myself it was just an empty threat.

  Joel said he’d protect me. And I’d believed him.

  For a few beautiful hours yesterday evening, I’d given up my control to him, begged him for everything he had. And I had loved it all.

  Every rough moment. Each stroke of his hand, his whips, his cock.

  I’d lost myself. Forgotten myself.

  But now, the fear was back.

  Of course they aren’t going to quit.

  I yanked my phone out of my pocket and swiped to the message.

  I typed fast with trembling fingers:

  How much do you want to leave me alone?

  I hit send. I locked the screen, but instead of shoving it back in my pocket, I stood paralyzed, staring at it.

  Three minutes passed.

  Ping! it went. You think 600k means shit to me?

  “Huh?” I muttered.

  Ping! Another message: I want u tinkerbel. Its always been about u.

  “What?” My stomach churned.

  I replied: I don’t understand??? I can give you all the money I have.

  Ping! My perfect little balerina. I’m gona take you home to meet my family. Prove to everyone I can get a nice girl. Real American dream.

  I started shaking so hard, I dropped the phone. I grabbed it and slumped down in the dirt on my ass.

  I had to sound calm and sensible. I took a deep breath in and out.

  I already have a husband.

  Ping! went the alert again.

  The screen filled with a photo of Joel. Sitting in his truck. As sexy and confident as ever, but his jaw was set, and there was a strange intensity in his eyes that almost scared me. Was it a selfie? It didn’t look like the kind of photo you took for fun.

  Ping! He’s a dead man.

  Bile rose in my throat.

  Ping! Your choice. You or him.

  I retched, and threw up a little in my mouth. I clamped my hand over my mouth and swallowed hard, gasping for air.


  Where the fuck had they gotten that photo from? They must have been following him. My roommate must have screwed me over.

  I was sickened at how naïve I’d been.

  Joel might be the strongest, smartest guy I’d met, but the thugs at the club fought dirty. They didn’t care that he was my husband. That the money was gone. They were going to kill him anyway.

  In revenge.

  Of course they were.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  It was all my fault.

  I had to fix this.

  I dumped the watering can in the toolshed and hurried to the house, back to the small bedroom where I used to sleep.

  I hauled my suitcase out of the closet, and began stuffing some clothes into it.

  There was a sound of heavy feet behind me. “There you are—”

  I whirled around, heart pounding. And my stomach flipped at the dismay in Joel’s face.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  “I’m going to go stay with a friend for a few days.” Every word killed me, but I forced them out. It was the only way.

  “What? Why?”

  “Sh-she’s been having a hard time. I need to support her.”

  His look of angry incomprehension eased a notch. He frowned. “Okay, I can take you there.”

  “N-no, she lives in Vancouver. I’ll take the bus.”

  He blinked. “I don’t mind. We were going to spend a couple of days there anyways.”

  “No, Joel,” I snapped, way too loud.

  As confusion crossed his face, I summoned every bit of coldness in my soul and straightened up. “I need some time to myself, too.”

  “But why? I thought we were—”

  “This wedding—it all happened too soon. I can’t take it. I need some space.” I stomped across the room, like a spoiled brat. “You think this is the life for me? Ending up here? At this fucking… fucking ranch?”

  “Language—”

  “Shut up,” I shouted. “Just shut up.” I closed my eyes, but all I could see was the picture of Joel. My beautiful savior. They’d kill him.

  Joel caught my arm. “Careful.” He was wearing his dom face. If I didn’t watch it, I’d be over his knee real soon.