by Mia Madison
“Oh,’ she squeaks in surprise, her soft brown eyes huge as a colt’s gazing up at me.
In my mind my mouth crashes down on hers and my tongue plunges inside her, in a replay of the one kiss we shared last summer, in my truck driving back from McDools. In my mind, I claim her lips and her mouth and crush her perky little tits in my fists until she gasps. But in the instant I grab her, her eyes fill with anger and she tries to yank her arm away from me. Yeah, right. It’s like a butterfly tugging on a steer.
“Let me go,” she yelps, jerking away from me harder. Trying to tear herself away from me again.
“No way, Princess,” I growl. My dick pressing harder against my denim as she struggles.
“Don’t call me that,” she snips.
“Why not? You may have hung up your crown but you’re still acting like a little queen around me.”
Her free hand comes up and bashes my bicep, then on my bulge of pectoral muscle. I laugh as she pounds her fist against the solid wall of my chest and that makes her madder still.
“Take it easy, Princess,” I chide her.
“I. said. don’t. call. me that.”
Each word is accompanied by a kick of her little foot on my shin, connecting with the thick old leather boot and hardly impacting my body at all. I let out another chuckle that enrages her further as she struggles in my solid grip.
“You cocky bastard. You think you’re so grown up but you’re just an arrogant ass.”
“That’s it, Princess. I reckon it’s time you were taught some respect for your elders,” I tell her.
“Elder?” she hisses. “You’re more childish than any man I know.”
“Ha, and there have been a slew of them, I’m sure,” I chortle.
As she opens her mouth for another outraged slander, I lift her up in my bare hands and throw her back across my shoulder. She’s hanging down over my back, my cock doing a fucking war dance in my jeans from how her ass is laying right alongside my cheek. It’s tipped up to the darkened sky like a reflection of the perfect round moon.
She kicks her legs and bashes her tiny fists on my back but she’s such a little thing, I barely feel her. What I am fully conscious of though is her firm little tits pressed into my deltoid, the flesh grinding into my layer of muscle with every thump, sending heat through my limbs I’ve never known before.
I’m intending to take her to my house and set her down for a little chat but Abe, the ranch foreman, emerges from his cabin. He might take it amiss that I’m carting around a struggling teenager on my shoulder. I veer off and head toward the barn with my little Princess.
“Put me down, you meanie,” she shouts, her writhing body only increasing the fire charging through my bloodstream.
“Meanie?” I chuckle. “That’s all you got?”
I’ve been called a lot worse by the many women that have gone all bunny-boiler on me for not delivering on their expectations. I’m kinda glad Modesty doesn’t hurl those insults on me.
“I’m going to..”
“What? Tell your daddy?” I laugh. “He ain’t here so I’m your Daddy now.”
She’s struggling so hard and I can’t stand it anymore. Her little body draped over my shoulder, writhing and grinding like I’d wanted to see her do lying on my bed with me over top of her. I’d lived through parting her legs and sliding into her so many times since that night she squirmed away from me, I could almost taste it on my lips. She was a naughty tease back then and she hasn’t changed. That might be okay for the schoolboys back home where she lives but it’s time she learned not to mess with a real man.
I kick the door to the barn back with the flat of my boot the heel it shut behind us. Modesty’s still struggling against me even when I palm her round ass cheeks to still her. That works like a charm. She lets out a little gasp and her body stiffens rigid on my shoulder. My cock does the same, harder than ever, ready to burst right through the brass zipper, because of the warm, soft flesh cupped in my hand. I only meant to still her so I could set her down on the straw covered floor but a spur of white hot heat rises through my gut.
I tip forward and slide her to the ground and as she raises her little fist again, I catch her wrist and flip her around.
“Bend over,” I grunt.
“What? No,” she squeaks out, so I press the small of her back, forcing her forward until the short dress she’s wearing slips up and up her thighs.
I see a ripple of emotion ride up her little body and she reaches her hands out to catch herself on the stack of straw bale horse feed.
“What are you going to do?” she whimpers, a frisson of fear and something else, something tremulous, in her soft voice.
“What I should have done six months ago,” I grit out. “What you desperately needed six months ago.”
What I want to do is yank her skirt up over her head and haul her little white panties down her thighs before freeing my raging wood and burying it inside her sweet caress.
But I promised her a lesson and her uplifted ass is too enticing. My hand rests on the curve of her left cheek and she shivers under me. But she’s stopped all resistance. Her breathing is coming in fast little pants almost as heavy as mine and I know that spanking her through her clothing is never going to satisfy me.
I need her firm little cheeks naked. I need to see her flesh shudder every time my heavy hand claps down on it. And I need to see the heat of desire rising in her skin as it pinkens for me. I don’t know what magic Modesty’s suddenly reeked on my casual take on life but I need all that more than I need anything and I need it right now.
Chapter FOUR
Modesty
I fight Rafe with everything I have, but it isn’t him I’m fighting. It should be, and at first everything in my head tells me I should be resisting a man that’s picked me up with his overwhelming strength and intends to do whatever he will with me. But when he veers off in another direction and I lift my face to look behind us and see the big head of all the ranch hands watching us walking quickly away from him, I don't take my chance to call for his help.
Why don’t I?
In this case, my traitorous body again lets me down. When it comes to Rafe, I’m helpless. Something physical takes over all rational thought and I want him lifting me from the ground like I weigh no more than a leaf on the wind. I crave him tossing me over his shoulder with that filthy chuckle of his that says he’s getting what he wants.
It’s insane that I could shout to that huge boss man for help but I don’t.
“Put me down right now,” I yell into Rafe’s back.
Inside I’m praying he won’t listen to me and am relieved when he doesn’t. Perhaps he was right when he said I was a tease. To me it just feels like lack of confidence.
Now, goosebumps trip up all along my arms and I’m shaking with anticipation when he strides inside the tall barn and kicks the door closed with the back of his boot. When he sets me down on the floor, with a gentle force, I’m quivering so hard that tingles light up the lining of my skin, sending twinkles of light pulsating between my thighs. If he doesn't rip the front of my dress open and I’m going to have to do it myself, then beg him to squeeze this pressure in my breasts until all the tension flows out in a delicious stream from my body. Isn't that how it goes? I wouldn't know but I’ve read a ton of romance books to try to understand what a woman should feel when a man lays his hands on her.
But he flips me around harshly and pushes me forward when he orders me to; “Bend over” and I don't immediately comply. Not because I don’t want to, but because I’m too shocked, strumming with a mixture of terror and thrill for what’s coming next.
I’m so nervous I want to tell him to go gently and not hurt me too much. Except that would sound even more childish and I want him to take me as a woman, even if I'm not exactly one yet.
A moan escapes my lips when his hard hand rests on my bottom, radiating heat through my skin. It spreads the length of my slit, directly around to where the ache is throbb
ing with need. I bite down on it so no more ravenous groans come from my mouth. I don’t want Rafe to figure out how desperate I am for him to take me. I swipe a glance back below my shoulder, where my breasts are heaving up and down with lusty need. I can only see Rafe’s bottom half, from the belt down but my gaze if filled by the massive bulge in his jeans. The same impossibly huge thing that frightened me so much last time I saw him.
I’ve touched a man’s prick before, guys from school I’ve made out with, but I had never in my life laid a hand on a beast as massive as Rafe was hiding in his pants. There was no way I could deal with his monster, throbbing with ravenous heat through the heavy fabric. He was too much for me, too much of a man, too experienced, too hungry. He would have devoured me. And now I’m silently begging him to do just that.
“You’re a bad little girl, Modesty,” he says, his voice rasping as he slides the full skirt of my dress up my legs.
I squeeze my thighs together as he pulls my nice panties, the ones I put on to travel across the country in. The special ones in case anything happened and I had to be taken to a hospital. He drags them down my legs and I can’t avoid noticing the squelch at my slit from how dripping wet I am.
“And bad girls need to be punished, don’t you agree?”
The air licks at my dampness and only makes the tingling more intense as I wait for whatever Rafe wants to do to me.
“I said, don’t you agree? You need to be a good girl and answer me when I ask you a question. Don’t keep me waiting.”
His voices cracks so I hear all the raging lust buried inside him. For me. I feel the heat blazing through his palm direct into my crack and I’m almost coming apart at the seams. I can’t speak, I can’t move, I can’t even breathe. I’m frozen rigid with hunger and fear rushing through my pores as his hand alights on my bare butt, turned up to face him. I’m sure my pulsating clit is pushing out through my folds and the pink bulge is glistening up at him, willing him to slide his fingers just a little lower to relieve my agony. I try to nod, to do as he says and respond but my head won’t move. I’m breathless with expectant desire for what’s next.
The air rushes in to fill the vacancy when his hand lifts off my cheeks. I let out a tiny mewl of protest. I don’t want him to leave me again, I want him to go further. To push me through my fear and resistance and make me into a woman. His woman. If he takes me, if he’s my first, I’ll always be his no matter what happens.
Air chills my cheeks for the brief moment before I let out a yelp. Rafe’s hand rushes back down, slapping the flesh of my cheek so it reverberates in his hand. A sharp pain morphs into blistering heat that expands when he claps down on my ass again. I screech again from the stinging in my cheeks and Rafe stops slapping me. He rests his hand on my swollen butt so I feel the intense heat emanating, even more burning hot than before. We’re both panting hard even though we’ve hardy exerted ourselves. The mix of emotions running around my body is outweighed by the urgent lust pressing at every corner. I want him to continue.
My daddy hasn’t spanked my bottom since I was seven years old and I never would have thought that being treated like a little girl again, being smacked as a punishment for being naughty would appeal to me at all. But the roiling desire rushing at my insides is more than I can stand. Without my permission, my legs seem to move a little further apart of their own volition. A low raw sound emanates from Rafe’s lips.
“You really are a bad girl under that Princess act,” he rasps.
I don’t even bother to deny him. I feel like a little wanton slut all of a sudden and I’m not remotely ashamed of that. I’m sure he’s getting a good view of my soaked spread now and I don’t care. I even start to undulate my hips back and forth urging him to part my lips and delve into me with his fat finger.
Seeming to read my mind, his hand twists around and his fingertips graze across my swollen slit making me shudder and cry out.
“Holy shit Princess, you’re soaked,” he grits out.
I can almost hear the quandary in his mind coming through in his voice.
I want to beg him to fuck me, to unleash that hugeness in his pants and push it all the way into me until I spread wide open for him. But I don’t say a word. I’m still pulling at air but I want him to take me without my asking. I want to know he wants me more than anything else. So I wait, gasping out little pants of breath as Rafe’s hand sits across my cheeks and slides into my slickness. I wait with every cell pleading for more.
Chapter FIVE
Rafe
Modesty is so compliant it makes my heart pound hard and my cock rage with need to be inside her even harder. The perfect girl stands completely still, bent over with her little fingers clenching into the hay bale, tearing loose packed stalks of the straw feed. She half rips the bale apart, waiting to take whatever I give her. I freaking love that. I love that she waits so patiently and when I realize how eager she is, how she’s dripping wet with desire for me, that only makes me want to destroy her body even more. To take her and possess her, until she’s all mine.
My desire for this girl is stronger than I’ve felt in a long time. It’s insane how addicted I am to this little princess. I realize now she’s been lingering in my thoughts since she left last summer, not a thought I find comforting.
But her little pink pussy is pressing out between her lips, slick with her sweetness so that it takes every ounce of my strong will to resist leaning in for a taste of her. She is without a doubt the most delicious thing I’ve ever seen and ever had waiting patiently, eagerly under my palm. She needs to be tamed like any young filly but her hungry yearning for me to teach her is plainly apparent.
“Ten more,” I tell her. “You count for me, Princess.”
I want to hear her gasp with every number she reels off for me in time with the clap of my hand. I want to know the pleasure is clawing at her body and making her wet. I need her to count off the ten because I could easily forget myself and keep her bent over like this while I spank her all night. The feel of the smooth curve of her butt is irresistibly addictive. I also need the distraction, before I go further than I should with this little girl. She can keep me on track as I revel in the shiver of her flesh under the clap of my palm and the way her skin has gone from pale pink to violent pink to blistering red in the last ten slaps I’ve given her. She’s let out little peeps of pain but otherwise hasn’t put up any of her usual resistance.
“One,” she mewls. “Two, three.”
Her ass jiggles perfectly and her clit swells eagerly so that her juice runs down her leg and over my fingers. She counts out her spanking and my dick is ravaging at my zipper, hungry for freedom with every little gasp. I ought to clamp each of her hot cheeks under a palm to spread her wide apart for me but I elect instead to make her wait. To let her discover for herself what desire can do to a man if you withhold yourself for a game. I know it will be the greatest punishment she’ll endure.
“Nine, ten,” she pants with relief as I slap down the final two spanks hardest of all. I can tell she’s pleased with herself for taking it all. She’s also avid with anticipation for what comes next. Her eyes dart back over her shoulder, expecting, no doubt, to see me releasing my length from my pants.
Not this time, sweetheart.
I struggle to finally lift my hand off her gorgeous round butt and tug her panties back up her thighs. I’d prefer to have her bared to me constantly, so I can feast my eyes on her delectable curves. Before I’m finished putting the underwear neatly in place over her red hot cheeks she straightens up to standing and reels around on me, eyes blazing as hot as her butt.
“What are you doing?” she demands, her voice high-pitched but still raspy with want.
“I’m dressing you, unless you want to go running around the ranch without your panties on,” I say, with a filthy grin.
I must admit that idea gives me a lurch of desire to make it happen. I’d never get a stitch of work done if Modesty was wandering about the place with her little
pussy bare under her skirt.
“We aren’t done here,” she whisper-yells at me.
“You saying you want some more of that punishment, little girl?”
“Stop calling me that. I’m not a little girl. You have no idea what I’ve been through since we met.”
“Uh huh, slumber parties, reality TV, ice cream sundaes.”
“You’re an idiot,” she snaps. “People grow up, you know. They change and mature, especially when circumstances force it on them.”
“If you say so, Princess.”
“Argh,” she lets out a howl of frustration that isn’t coming from what I’m saying.
I felt how drenched through she was as I spanked her. I’m sure she’s still pulsating with need for more as much as I am. But I’m way too old for her and I don’t need Shea catching me in the barn with a teenager not ten minutes after she arrived. My reputation with the other cowboys is already wild enough. Let her flirt with one of the younger dudes. Jessop or Lakin are closer to her age and maybe don’t mind being teased and toyed with. Me, I want a woman that knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. One that runs away playing chase me, chase me is okay for the kids, but not for a grown man.
Modesty is still staring me down with fire-fueled disbelieving eyes. In truth I’ve never seen a sexier woman, and that includes the know-everything city types that have been down here recently with their confident sexual games and entrapments. Modesty, even though she’s young, has a tough little exterior that wasn’t apparent last time. Perhaps she has grown up since she was a squealing little girl terrified of everything.
“You can’t just spank me and then expect me to walk out of here like I’m exiting the principal's office. I’m not a naughty child,” she huffs.
“Uh, huh, that’s exactly what you are,” I tell her, even as I’m beginning to doubt it and think there’s more to her than I’m allowing myself to see.
Her perky tits are bouncing up and down with the force of her fast breaths and I can almost feel the need for release coming off her. I want to touch her so bad. I want to tear all her clothes from her this time and pull her down on top of me, sprawled across the hay bale as I claim every inch of her.
