by Lee Savino
She looked over to the window confusedly. “It’s still dark outside. It’s not late.”
“There’s plenty of work to do before it gets light,” I said. “And I’m not waiting around for lazy workers who think they can take advantage of me.” That was all she was. A ranch hand.
She rubbed her eyes. Her lower lip puffed out in a familiar pout. “What’s the big deal, anyway? Your ad said five hours’ work a day. It’s like the middle of the night. There’s plenty of time to get five hours’ work done today, I’m sure.” Carrie blinked up at me, looking sweet and virginal. She caught a glimpse of my angry face, and her green eyes widened. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and my cock thickened even more. Victoria used to try those tricks. I’d let them work before, but not anymore.
I made my voice hard as steel. “Get yourself up and get down that ladder, right now. And bring your things with you.”
She blinked. “You’re kicking me out?”
“I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with you.” I stalked down the ladder, my anger growing with every step. She was late, and she didn’t even give a damn about it. Worse, her presence made me painfully aroused.
I needed to remember she wasn’t my sub. But if she was a real ranch worker, she’d be gone by now.
Carrie followed me down the ladder, that grubby backpack of hers slung over her shoulder, and her hair still tangled like a rat’s nest. Now she looked less sure of herself.
“Can I at least go pee?” she mumbled.
I nodded. “Yeah, go get washed up and fix your hair—it looks like a haystack. I’ll see you back here in ten minutes.”
She scuttled off to the bathroom, and I walked a couple of loops around the house to calm my temper.
I couldn’t abide such sassy, childish behavior. It was the kind of thing I’d punish a sub for.
She wasn’t a bad kid, but she hadn’t had an iota of discipline in her short life—that much was obvious.
What the hell was I going to do with her?
My thoughts flipped back and forth.
On one hand was the possibility of Carrie staying with me a few days longer. On the other was me kicking her out on her ass.
And in the middle…
In the middle was a place I’d gone before. My favorite place. It’d be new to Carrie, but I could see her through it. Maybe we could both enjoy it.
Yesterday, I’d concluded that what she needed was a firm hand. I’d tried to treat her like another ranch hand, and it wasn’t working. She stirred every protective instinct I had—and more. Darker, baser desires.
And I was done denying myself.
Carrie emerged from the bathroom at last. She jerked her chin up when she saw me, still more defiant than apologetic. She wasn’t afraid of me—that was a good sign.
I hitched my thumbs in my jeans and glared down at her. “You going to apologize now?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
I took a step toward her, so she was forced to tilt her head back to look up at me. “That’s not an apology.”
She sighed. “I don’t get what the big deal is, anyway. It’s still dark as shit out there.”
“Language,” I barked, and she jumped. I waited for an apology and she pressed her lips together.
Strike two.
“The big deal is, Carrie, I gave you an instruction and you failed to carry it out.”
“But I’m here now. You could’ve hollered for me.”
“I did holler for you. And you’ve got a phone to wake you up.”
“The battery died.”
I clenched my teeth. “You’re about the thirtieth traveler I’ve had here. All the good ones got up when I told them to, worked a few hours in the morning, then had most of the day to themselves. Riding horses, whatever they wanted. I’ve got no time for little girls who want to lie in bed all day.”
“I’m not a little girl.” Carrie looked mutinous.
“You’re acting like one.”
“Can’t you just chill out? You said the season’s over, anyway. I mean, lighten up, already.” She raised her small shoulders in a nonchalant shrug.
“That’s it, young lady. I told you, if you didn’t obey, there’d be consequences.” I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her toward me.
“What are you doing?” She fought to get away, but I held her firmly by both arms.
The idea crystallized in my mind, fizzed in my blood. It energized every cell of my body, leaving my palms tingling in anticipation.
“You agreed to abide by the rules. And if you agreed if you broke them, you’d pay the price. Now it’s time to pay up and take your punishment,” I said.
Her pale green eyes got very wide. “Wh-what?”
“I’m going to punish you,” I said. “You’ve been very disobedient. And if there’s one thing I can’t tolerate, it’s disobedience.”
She scoffed. “Punish me? What are you talking about?”
I swallowed hard, pushing back on the mixture of emotions racing through my body. “I’m going to spank your behind.”
Her mouth fell open. “No. No way.” Again, she scrabbled again to get away from me, like a cat caught in a net, and this time, I let her go.
“Leave then. Your choice. I didn’t give you a chance yesterday so that you could take advantage of me at the very first turn.”
I strode over to a hay bale at the side of the room and sat down, planting my legs wide apart.
“It’s my way or nothing, babygirl. You either take your jeans down and lie across my lap, or you get your stuff and leave.”
She stood in the middle of the barn and stared at me, arms folded. “No,” she repeated. “Not happening.”
“Your choice, Carrie. I’m giving you one minute to make your mind up.”
Chapter 4
Carrie
I stared and stared at Steele in disbelief. Sitting there on the hay bale, legs apart.
Waiting for me.
He has to be kidding, right? This is just some weird joke of his.
But the expression on his face said different. Those narrow, blue eyes bored into mine, uncompromising. Pitiless.
Subconsciously, my hands drifted to my ass cheeks. He really wanted to spank me? I couldn’t believe my ears. Spankings were for little girls, not full-grown adults. Not employees. My mouth almost fell open. It sounded so crazy, it was almost funny.
“Thirty seconds, Carrie,” Steele barked. “Your decision.”
My eyes snapped from his big, denim-clad thighs to his face, and back again. He wasn’t kidding. He really was going to kick me out if I didn’t agree to this.
I guess I understood why he was mad—I shouldn’t have overslept, but I really hadn’t thought it was such a big deal. Maybe I deserved some kind of punishment. Like—I don’t know—having to shovel an extra pile of horse shit or something.
But physical punishment? On my ass? I’d likely been spanked as a small child, but I couldn’t really remember. But as an adult? That idea just about blew my mind.
“Ten seconds, Carrie.” Steele’s voice cut through my circling thoughts, harsh and unforgiving.
I turned and glanced through the barn door at the outdoors—at the dull gray light that was beginning to chase away the dark. Either I walked out into that, into nowhere. Or, I allowed Steele to spank me on my bare ass.
What a choice to have to make. I bit down on my lower lip; twisted my hands together. Why was I so excited?
“Carrie?” There was a warning tone in Steele’s voice now.
I swallowed hard. Aw, hell.
I walked over to him with slow, dragging steps, coming to a stop three feet away. Head spinning, stomach squirming, I looked at him expectantly.
His gaze dropped to the zipper of my jeans, and he gave a curt nod.
A blast of excitement went right through me, leaving my hairs standing on end. I put my hands on the button, and hesitated.
“I’m not going to do anything inappropriate, Carrie. I
just want to make sure you feel your punishment.” Steele’s voice was softer now.
Slowly, slowly, I unfastened the button and eased down the zipper. My cheeks burned with embarrassment but my stomach flip flopped. Not with fear, but anticipation.
Steele’s eyes raked over my hips and, as if they were laser beams guiding me, I eased my jeans down to thigh level. Now he could see my panties, which were pink with roses on. More childish than sexy, but I’d picked them up cheap in a supermarket somewhere. I hated the fact that he was seeing them. He probably thought I was a little girl—as if he didn’t already.
Now, he brought his knees together and beckoned with his hand. “Come over here.”
My skin tingling with embarrassment and apprehension, I shuffled over to his right side, then bent forward awkwardly until my hands came to rest on his thigh. I could feel the warmth of his skin through his jeans, the bulky muscles beneath.
“Put your weight on me,” he told me, and took hold of my waist, guiding me across his lap. I had no choice but to let my weight fall onto him.
Yuck. This felt very weird.
Then he raised his right leg, and tipped me. I lurched forward and let out a yelp. My feet scrabbled for purchase on the wooden floorboards, but I was unbalanced, dangling perilously across his lap.
“Shush,” he murmured. “Don’t worry about anything.” When he laid his hand on my ass, I squeaked. It was half on my panties, and half on my bare skin. He tapped my right cheek and then my left.
“You’ll feel better after this,” he told me. “This is what you need.”
“No one needs their ass whupping—” I started to say, but there was a whoosh, then a crack as a heavier slap landed on my right cheek.
“Ouch!” I yelled, more in surprise than pain.
“Shush,” he said again, like he was calming a flighty animal. I heard him breathing, slow and deep, several times, like he was psyching himself up for something.
There was a pause, that whoosh again, and another slap! landed, this time on my left cheek.
It stung. I let out a yelp, and wriggled to get away, but I was held fast over his lap, kicking my legs uselessly.
“Please,” I cried out. “I’ll be good.”
His large palm soothed my bottom. “I know you will, babygirl.” The fight went out of me at the warmth in his voice. His fingers continued to rub my ass. “You need discipline. It’s okay, baby, I’ll give you what you need. Hold still, it’ll be over soon.”
There was another slap on my right cheek, exactly where the first one had been.
I yelped again at the sting. A fourth one fell on the left side again. Then a storm of stinging slaps rained down—left, then right, higher then lower—until my entire ass had been covered by his palm. The slaps rang out in between my cries. It hurt.
But when he stopped to rub my butt again, the stinging went away, swallowed up by the ache between my legs.
“You take your punishment like a good girl, and then it’ll be over. You’ll be forgiven.” His murmur made me melt. “You understand?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
A few more slaps, and I gritted my teeth and took them quietly.
“That’s it.” He paused, his hand caressing my ass over my panties. Relief swept through me. He’s done. Thank goodness.
“I want you to count for me,” he said.
“Wh-what?” I mumbled.
“I’m going to give you twenty.”
I went ramrod stiff. Going to give me?
“What about the ones you’ve given me already?” I yelped.
“Those were just the warm up,” he said. “Now, this is your punishment for disrespecting me.”
Crack! A much harder slap landed on my left cheek, right on the spot where my ass met my thigh. It burned like crazy, and I yowled like a cat that’d had its tail trodden on. “Shit!”
Steele went still. Long enough that I lifted my head. “I told you to count,” he said in a hard voice. “If you don’t do exactly what I tell you, these panties of yours are coming down as well.” He hooked his finger in the elastic of the waistband and snapped it.
Alarm jolted through me. “One,” I muttered.
Steele grabbed hold of the waistband and tugged downward.
“One,” I said, in a much clearer voice.
“Good,” he said.
Crack! His hand came down on my right cheek.
“Two!” I shouted out.
Crack, crack, crack!
His hand came down heavily, each slap in a different place from the last. Soon, my entire ass was on fire. I could feel it radiating heat, and hated to think he could see it turning red.
How shameful.
“Seven! Eight! Nine!”
The numbers burst from my lips.
The tenth one was hard to take. The eleventh was unbearable. I wriggled on his lap, trying to predict where the next one would land, desperate to escape the relentless rhythm of his hand.
“Hold still,” he told me again. “The more you cooperate, the quicker it’ll be over.”
I wrapped my arm around his denim-clad thigh. Somehow, the smell of his laundry powder gave me a scrap of comfort amid all this suffering.
Sixteen… seventeen… eighteen. I couldn’t stand it. Wild, humiliating sounds spilled from my mouth, and I squeezed my eyes shut, tears threatening.
“Nineteen!” I yelled in a ragged voice, and, “Twenty” was a sob, tears finally running down my cheeks.
Then it all stopped. There was quiet. I went limp across Steele’s lap.
My body was shuddering all over. My throat hurt; my ass felt hot enough to fry eggs on. But, most shamefully of all, there was a deep, pulsing ache between my thighs.
Somewhere, in the midst of all that pain and humiliation, I’d gotten turned on. I’d felt it before the real punishment had even started. As much as I’d flinched at every blow, I’d also kind of hoped for it. What is wrong with me?
Steele’s hand came down again, and I flinched. But this time, he touched me lightly. He made circles with a featherlight touch, easing the throbbing of my bruised flesh. My skin was so sensitized that I could feel the coarseness of his fingertips.
“There, there,” he murmured. “All done now. You are such a good girl.”
Good girl. The praise lit something in me, but I frowned and fought it. I was shaky with emotion, and my butt was sore. There was no reason for me to feel so good.
“You can get up now,” he said. He tipped me back until my feet could touch the floor again, and awkwardly, I pushed back on his thighs until I was standing up. As I pulled up my jeans, I felt the moisture pooling between my thighs. I kept my eyes on the ground, my face as hot as my ass.
“Now, Carrie, I hope you’ve learned your lesson. I would hate to have to do that again.”
I looked up at him. His expression was calm. I ducked my head, letting my hair fall over my face.
“Have you?” he pressed me.
“Yes.” I nodded vigorously, worried that he might think about going for another round.
His lips formed an uncompromising line. “Then thank me for your punishment.”
My mouth fell open. “What—” I started to say, until the warning look in his eyes cut me off.
I swallowed hard.
“Thank you for punishing me for my disobedience,” I said. Even as the words left my mouth, I couldn’t believe I’d just uttered them. I felt dizzy, like I’d just stepped into an alternate universe.
“Good girl.” He patted the hay bale next to him. “Take a seat.”
I sat down, and he rubbed my back in big, comforting circles while I tried not to sniffle.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Angry, I was about to say, but that wasn’t the truth. The truth was more complicated, and I didn’t yet have the words for it.
“Okay, I guess,” I mumbled instead.
“I think that did you a lot of good,” he said in a low voice. “It might not make sen
se right now, but in time it will, I promise.”
My mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out.
“I’ll go get your cup of coffee.” He disappeared out of the barn, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Chapter 5
Carrie
My ass was still throbbing and it was uncomfortable to sit down. I would have got to my feet except my legs didn’t feel strong enough to hold me up.
Steele whupping my ass was supposed to do me good?
That was some fucked up shit.
And yet, my pussy was burning with need. That had been the weirdest, most humiliating, most arousing experience of my entire life.
If he came back and started to kiss me, I knew I wouldn’t stop him. I was still a virgin, but I still wouldn’t stop him from pulling off my clothes and taking me right there in the hay. I imagined him naked, his huge body on top of me. His cock inside me. How would it feel? He was too big and rough and old for me. But my traitorous body tingled with yearning.
The door banged, and Steele was back with the coffee. I watched him striding toward me with his loose, confident gait. My eyes zeroed in on his crotch. I wondered if it had turned him on to smack my ass, or if it’d only been about punishment for him.
Was it supposed to be sexual? Was it weird that I’d gotten turned on?
I felt awkward as he approached, like I didn’t know how to act around him. I wound up jamming my hands in my pockets, and staring at the floor.
“Here.” He handed me a steaming earthenware mug. I wrapped my hands around it. The warmth was comforting. I wished he’d rub my back again.
“I put an extra spoon of sugar in it. Think you’ll appreciate it,” he commented, blowing on his own black brew.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, still too uncomfortable to look him in the eye.
He was right. When the sugar reached my blood, that nervous shaky feeling left my body.
“You all right?” He bumped his arm against mine. I nodded.
All right was not the expression for whatever I was feeling right now. Confused. Freaked out. Disturbed. About two seconds away from grabbing my bag and running all the way back to the station, however long it took me.
