Rocky Mountain Discipline

by Lee Savino

  "That's it, Susannah."

  She gripped his lapels, wanting to scratch his smug face. "How dare you drag me around in your plans, and throw me into all of this? How dare you bring me to your family, taking the long route so we spent more time together? Teach me to shoot, buy me a horse."

  "Say it, Susannah. Let it all out. Say what you really want to say."

  "I love you!" she shouted. "I love you damn it, and I never want to leave. How dare you give me something so wonderful, I'm afraid of losing it!"

  "You're not going to lose it, baggage." He lifted her, set her on the bed. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. And you can bet that, after that, I'm never letting you go."

  But Susannah was done talking. Her hands ripped at his clothes, a few buttons flying, scratching his skin as she clawed off his shirt.

  He whipped off her nightgown, wrenched down his trousers, and then he was inside her, hips thrusting into her, mouth on her shoulder, biting until she cried out in happiness.

  "You're not leaving," he said. "You're never getting away. I'll hunt you down."

  "If you let me leave, I'll shoot you myself, Jesse Oberon," she snarled, and fisted her hand in his hair. Her legs wrapped around his violently bucking body, hanging on as he pulled out only to slam into her, a great rocking thrust that sent her head flying back and felt so damn good.

  "That's it, Susannah. Pinch your breasts, let me see you go wild."

  She obeyed, and the pain sent her straight over the edge. Howling her orgasm, she clawed at his back as her husband bucked and finished deep inside her.

  For a long while afterwards they lay panting on the bed.

  "Do you think that, when we fight, it'll always end this way?" Susannah asked as soon as she caught her breath.

  "Damn, I hope so."

  She rolled to face him. "I can't believe you almost let me go."

  "Woman, you torture me. Make up your mind."

  She crawled onto him. "No more robbing coaches. Or joining gangs, even to stop a bad man. Promise me, Jesse."

  "If I promise, do you promise not to try to break my dick every time we fuck?"

  Reaching down, she grabbed his cock. He yelped and swatted her bottom. "Naughty baggage. I promise, I promise. You'll make me an honest man."

  She grinned fiercely. "I could make you into a lawman, if I wanted to."

  "You're the only one who could do it. But I wouldn't bet against you."

  She sat back with a satisfied smile as he drew the ring out of his pocket and presented it to her. "Mrs. Wilder."

  She held her hand out, and he slid the wedding band home.

  "I love you. I'll live and die for you." He kissed it. "I hope you know that, my queen."

  "I know." She cuddled against him. "I'm sorry I called you names. You're not a liar, thief or murderer."

  "A full pardon?"

  She nodded.

  "You also called me a bastard."

  Sensing his seriousness, she lifted her head. "I did. I'm sorry. I should never have said it."

  "It's all right." He shrugged. "My father called me that sometimes."

  Susannah felt apprehension at her husband's flat tone. "He did?"

  "Yes. He didn't trust my mother, thought I wasn't his son."

  "Jesse." She laid a hand on his shoulder. "That's awful."

  "It's not a mistake that my middle name is Oberon for the play. My mother loved a traveling man, an actor. When I left, she gave me the only thing she had of him."

  "The ring?" she guessed.

  He nodded. "She gave it to me when she knew I was leaving. The only thing she had of him."

  Susannah was quiet for a moment, her thoughts swirling. Suddenly her husband's recklessness, his biting humor and the way he held everyone and everything at arm's length made sense. "So Lyle is your half-brother?"

  "I don't know. It doesn't matter. My father never treated me as his own. So you see, I really am Jesse Oberon. And I know something of what it's like to be unloved, and unwanted."

  She stared at him, her stomach twisting on his behalf. "And I said all those horrible things."

  "Yes." He lay back with a half grin. "You should be punished."

  Susannah twisted her ring, and then laid her hand on his chest. "You're right."

  His eyes opened a little. "What's that now?"

  She cleared her throat. "You're right. You should punish me."

  "You're asking for discipline?"

  "If it will clear the air between us, I am." She lifted her chin. "Punish me, Jesse."

  For a moment, he just stared at her. Then he was off the bed and across the room so fast, she started.

  He was back in a moment, quirt in hand. Susannah recognized the braided whip from his saddlebags.

  "You sure about this?" His face was so serious, it frightened her. But she felt she needed to do something, anything, to repair the breach between them.

  Wide-eyed, she nodded.

  "Stand up," he ordered.

  Suddenly Susannah's world was very narrow; there was nothing but the room, Jesse and the mean strip of leather in his fist. Slowly, she got out of bed and let the blanket drop from her naked form.

  "Lean over the bed."

  As she did so, her heartbeat picked up as if readying to run a mile. She settled her body down, feet on the floor and torso on the bed, cheek to coverlet, and hid her face in her arms.

  A large hand touched her back, and she jumped, but his fingers ran down her skin lightly, stroking from shoulder to thigh. "You're so beautiful," he said. She relaxed a little at the reverence in his tone.

  His hands moved to her head, pulling her hair back into a loose braid, then tucking it under her.

  "I'll warm you up with a hand spanking, first," he told her, one hand at the nape of her neck while the other roamed up and down her flesh. He squeezed one globe then the other. "Then we'll try the quirt." He paused, and she focused on trying to breath. "Susannah?"

  "Yes?"

  "Do you understand why you're being punished?"

  "I called you names."

  "You didn't trust me. You said hurtful things to push me away." His touch, feather light on her fair skin, drove her mad. He paused and leaned in. "But most of all, Susannah, I'm punishing you because I want to, and you're mine." His hand dipped between her legs then, and she let out a whimper.

  "Spread your legs," he said hoarsely. She obeyed, and he rewarded her with soft touches up and down the slippery folds.

  "You'll like it," he whispered. "Maybe not all of it, maybe not right away, but you'll feel good. I'm going to take care of you."

  "All right," she whispered back. His hand stroked over her bottom, squeezing one fleshy globe and then the other.

  Then he smacked her. "When I'm disciplining you, the correct answer is 'Yes, sir.' Do you understand?"

  For a moment, she couldn't think.

  He smacked her bottom again, the opposite cheek. "What do you say, Susannah?"

  Face to bedspread, she hesitated.

  He kept spanking her, peppering her bottom with hearty smacks, laying them on one cheek and then the other, angling his hand so he hit upper, lower and either side of her cheeks.

  "I can do this as long as it takes for you to learn." His hand caught her bottom from below and she gasped, surging forward. He did it again, left and right cheek, on the underside of her bottom, close to her pussy. "You will submit and call me 'sir.'" His hand let loose a flurry of smaller swats, like stinging nettles on her bum.

  She squeaked something out, and he paused.

  "What was that, Susannah?"

  Gulping, she repeated, "Yes, sir."

  "Good girl." His large hand cupped her buttocks, kneading the flesh. It felt so good, she sighed and melted into the bed.

  "I love the way you submit to me," he said in his rough voice. "Your body is so beautiful laid out on the bed. Your bottom is just starting to get nice and pink." He laid two more hard strikes on either cheek, followed by the deep massage. "Y
ou'll be red before dawn. And all the way home, you'll sit and think about me, and how much I love you." Again, his hand ventured lower, long fingers trespassing her secret lips, parting them like petals of a flower. He teased her, stroking her lips, pinching them lightly, then circling around the little pearl hiding in the folds.

  As his finger grew closer and closer to her pleasure spot, Susannah moaned into the bed.

  "You like this?" He paused for a moment, then pinched her bottom. She jumped, her legs snapping together, and realized he was waiting for a reply.

  "Yes, sir." It was easier to say the second time. Pain and pleasure melded together in her head, turning her core molten.

  His hand returned to playing between her legs. "You gonna ask for your punishment?"

  She whimpered, not realizing her discipline hadn't begun.

  "Or do you want me to stop?" His hand retreated, and she reached back and grabbed for it.

  "No. Jesse, please don't stop."

  "Is that how you address me?"

  "No, sir. Forgive me." She widened her legs, tilting her bottom to offer herself more fully to him. He would be able to see everything in this position, even her damp pussy. Especially her damp pussy. "Please, sir, punish me. Whatever you want, I'm yours."

  A pause. "As you wish." She could tell by the rasp in his voice that he was aroused. Despite herself, she smiled against the bed, knowing the power she had over him.

  Then her spanking began in earnest, and her fists gripped the blanket. His hand fell over and over, a hard, stinging palm, the smacks echoing around the room. After a while, a warmth spread through her, starting at her poor, heated cheeks and rushing upwards, settling in her cunny like a hand pressing out. Jesse didn't stop even as her bottom shifted to avoid his hand. He seemed to know how she was going to move, and punished her with harder strikes to her bottom's tender underside. She really would feel it when riding a horse, she thought desperately. Closing her eyes, she tried to relax and accept the pain. Little cries escaped her, but she didn't beg him to stop. The rhythm of his relentless strikes told her there would be time enough for pleading later.

  As the spanking continued, tears filled her eyes. She wasn't sad, though. Jesse's hand, his body close to hers, even his determined breathing all blended to tell her how intent he was on delivering this punishment to her, how he wasn't leaving her, how he would be with her, not just in the moment, but days and days beyond when she felt the ache in her backside and remembered how he bent her over the bed. Her body fell away as the pain lifted her upwards, bearing her towards the sky and forgiveness.

  He stopped, and she spiraled back into herself, the sting slamming back into her mind. She gasped, and kicked her legs a little, writhing with the pain. Her face was wet. His hand was working over her flesh again, rubbing away some of the sting.

  Then he sat on the bed. "Up over my lap."

  Fighting the urge to beg for mercy, she obeyed, laying over the hard thighs and tensing in anticipation.

  "Your bottom is nice and hot for me," he told her, settling her. "But it's only a dark pink. I want it red before I whip you."

  She whimpered.

  "Shhh." He continued to soothe her smarting cheeks, easing the pain and preparing them for the next round at the same time. "Your body is warming to me. Soon your mind will accept the pain and you'll fly away."

  He spanked her, hard, and she nearly flew up off his lap. The strike seemed harder than the others.

  "Jesse, please, I'll be good. It's too much."

  "I can feel you. Your body likes it. Your body knows I'm its master."

  She settled back down.

  "You can do this."

  But he continued and she felt the words fall from her mouth, begging him, pleading with him.

  He alternated strokes with little touches between her legs, and that was the most humiliating, that her body would respond to his discipline with desire.

  The pain sparked fire inside her that would burn forever; it would never be put out. She would always crave what his hand could do to her.

  He seemed to understand. "You're mine, now, Susannah. I'll do what I like to you. But I'll never truly hurt you." His hand cracked down, and she almost didn't feel the hits in one spot. The pain radiated out from everywhere.

  "You can let go, Susannah. I've got you." He steadied her with one hand, and wrapped one of his legs around hers.

  Somehow that intensified the feeling. His spanking was lighter now. Susannah closed her eyes and let herself float. Every smack, every blow jolted her closer and closer to a beautiful place. She didn't have to think, she didn't even have to feel, she just had to be. The juice collected and pooled between her legs, running down her thigh and staining her sir's trousers. He wouldn't walk away from this session unaffected.

  He intensified the spanking, and though she shivered and cried, she longed for it to push her forward, to another level. Her mouth parted and she sighed once she reached it.

  "Susannah," Jesse called from far away. "On the bed again." He had to help her flop down on the coverlet, and arrange her limbs. She felt drowsy, almost drunk as she let him tie her hands and legs, stretching her out.

  "I'm going to whip you now." His hands were everywhere, rubbing her back and arms, sliding down her sides to frame her heated bottom, then down her legs.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him lift the quirt. She didn't feel any fear, though, only anticipation, sweet on her tongue, heavy between her breasts and thighs. "I won't be too harsh. I don't want to damage you."

  "I know," she whispered, and shivered as he drew down his hand from neck to thigh, pausing every so often to massage her flesh.

  "I would never do anything to mar this perfection."

  He spent a few long minutes just trailing the line up and down her back, letting the braid bump over the skin of her back and chafe her bottom's already roasted flesh. Her body arched, longing for his touch, accepting the leather substitute. Her nipples hardened against the blanket. Her cunt was on fire.

  She'd just relaxed when he stopped and positioned himself behind her.

  She heard the whip crack, but it didn't register that the lash had struck her until he'd laid the second one down. He painted her backside with lines of fire, and she felt the pain through a wall, separate from her hazy thoughts. She was wriggling and moaning on the bed, pulling a little against her bonds, but as he continued to whip her, she went deeper and deeper into a lovely, warm place. There was barely any pain, just the perfect kiss of the leather, biting her skin just hard enough to make her feel, but too light to give her any real sting.

  As Jesse continued, her bottom rose to meet the whip, offering herself and taking pleasure. The leather beat down on her flesh, a rain of ecstasy that washed away her sins, bathed her in love.

  He struck her behind again. And again. And again. She could lean into the rhythm, and rely on it. She shrank away and returned to the pain as regular as breathing.

  Her body was full of flame, cunt aching, needing release. Words spilled from her mouth, and though her ears rang with them, they were meaningless. All but one.

  "Jesse," she said over, and over, as tears ran down her face from the painful pleasure. "Jesse."

  She was awash in a sea of ecstasy, floating, unable to move. Her limbs relaxed as Jesse released her bonds, rubbing the marks on her wrists and ankles. Eventually she came to herself, and felt him applying balm to her bottom, quieting the sting. She relaxed until she heard him calling her name, and opened her eyes to meet his green gaze.

  "You all right?" Crouched beside the bed, he offered her water, and held the cup for her to drink.

  "Yes, sir," she sighed. Smiling, he stroked her hair back a little, before lying down beside her. The bed sagged under his weight, and he rubbed the back of her neck, letting her stay on her belly. She turned her face towards him, and he rolled to his back, reaching for her until she scooted into his side, lying half over him.

  "It wasn't too harsh, was it?" His
hands moved lightly over her hair and shoulders, careful of her back.

  "No," she whispered shyly. "I liked it."

  "Good. Do you need anything else?"

  "Just this." Throwing an arm around his waist, she snuggled into his warmth.

  They spent the day in bed together. After sleeping until noon, Jesse woke and applied the balm again, wiped her face with a wet cloth, then brushed her hair. She stayed on her belly, gazing up at him with love.

  "We'll stay here another night. A day on your belly is what you need," he told her with a grin.

  "You mean a good hard whipping is what I needed," Susannah said, her voice muffled against the blankets.

  "That too." Jesse laughed and kissed her hair before going down to get a plate of food. He sat on the bed and fed her each bite, dipping his head often for a soft kiss. The kissing led to touching and the touching led to other things, and after it all Susannah slept again, her cheek pillowed on her husband's shoulder.

  The sun was setting when she woke and stayed curled up against him, reluctant to move.

  "Tell me a story." She lay on his chest, ear over his heartbeat.

  Shifting a little so his head was propped on the pillows, Jesse settled back and began. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful fairy queen, who fell under an enchantment and fell in love with an ass. She thought that this creature was so beautiful, she swore her undying love for it, even though he was... well, an ass."

  Susannah giggled.

  "And he did not treat her well. All her friends and family were under the enchantment. One day, a homely beggar came around and he saw through the spell, but no one thought he was worthy of even speaking to the queen.

  But he was really a fairy king. He broke the enchantment on the fairy queen and brought her back to his castle. But the others who had mocked her he cast out, and left them under the spell so they still couldn't tell the difference between a good man, and an ass."

  Tipping her head back, Susannah met his gaze. "Am I the fairy queen?"