Daddy's Whip
Page 5
“What about your helmet?”
He never wore a helmet when he was riding the farm bike, or when he was riding the horses for that matter, unless there was a real reason to.
“I’ll be alright,” he said. “Just as long as you’re protected.”
“You’re supposed to wear a helmet.”
She was right. Legally everyone was supposed to wear them. He had one, somewhere. Not a riding helmet like she was wearing, but a bike one. Was it in his office?
“Hold on,” he said. “Let me get it.”
He had an office in the back of the stable where he did the books and signed riders in for treks and things. It needed a clean and a tidy up. He was sure he’d last seen that helmet here. Now where was it…
Five minutes or so later, the helmet eventually turned up beneath a pile of horse rugs.
Marnie looked at him with a disapproving stare as he chased a couple of spiders out of it and settled it over his head, visor up.
“Happy?” His voice was muffled a little by the chin protector.
“Delirious,” she said sarcastically.
His hand was on the whip, twisting it free and sending the length of it out toward her with a flick of his wrist. The lash snaked through the air and found her butt in a heartbeat.
She yelped and jumped, clutching at the affected cheek. The whip had caught her just under those all too short shorts and he could see the pink little mark it had left in its wake.
“Jesus! Stop that!”
He smiled to himself. He could probably work the lash down into her cleavage and have that top off if he wanted. Instead he cracked the whip again, next to her feet this time. She jumped and danced on the spot, yelping even though he hadn’t touched her.
“Stop it! That’s not nice!”
“It’s very nice,” he purred. When she jumped, the sweet curves of her body moved in just the right way. She was a hot little thing and the longer he spent standing in front of her with a whip in his hand, the more he wanted to ply it across her body. He’d been whip-cracking for years, as a hobby and for the odd competition. It came in handy with stock sometimes too, but it had never been as much fun as it was right now.
She looked like she was about to get upset though, and toying with her wasn’t fair. He had to get his act together and be the boss she needed him to be.
“Come on,” he said, looping the whip back up and clipping it to his belt. “Let’s go.”
Marnie followed him back out to the bike. He got on it first and gestured behind him. “Climb on up.”
Chapter Three
She was nervous. Not just about going on a motorbike, which was new to her, but about being so close to Sam. Trying to do as she was told for once, Marnie slipped onto the back of the bike and sat there kind of awkwardly, just barely perched on the seat.
“Snug up,” he said, taking the helmet off to talk to her. “Closer.”
She blushed as she pushed up behind him, her breasts pressing against his back, spread legs making her sex push against the seam of her shorts, and then him too. This was damn near indecent. His powerful, but lean waist and hips meant that it was easy for her to practically wrap herself around him.
“Tighter,” he said, taking hold of her hands. He pulled them around his waist, drawing her hard against him. God. She was practically humping him now. She could smell his scent, deep and earthy and masculine and…
The bike purred into life, vibration shot through her and she knew in an instant she was in trouble. Even before they set off she could feel her clit grinding against the seam of her shorts, the rumbling stimulating her completely indecently. There wasn’t a bit of daylight between them as they set off across the gorgeous green fields.
She couldn’t focus on the scenery at all. All she could concentrate on were the sensations. He’d used his whip on her and the little zip of pain had made her feel a lot like the spanking had—hot and wet. Now she was grinding against his hard back, her breath coming in little gasps as they bumped over a gravel track.
Marnie tried everything she could not to come. She really did, but it was a physical thing she couldn’t help. Every little bump and ridge took her that little bit closer, the steady vibration of the motor ramping her excitement up as she clung to him.
Her body was singing with sensation, her every experience with him up until that point feeding into her arousal. He’d lectured her, spanked her, whipped her, cuddled her when she cried, and now she was arching against him, her helmet pressing between his shoulder blades as her shamefully desperate loins ground on his back.
She came with a muffled cry, biting her lower lip as her hips rocked back and forth, rubbing her wet clit against her jeans. She was soaked between her thighs, totally in heat. Sam’s muscled back flexing as he moved with the bike making her wet slit soak her panties as her orgasm rushed through her, every muscle tightening with the force of it.
Jesus. Christ. She couldn’t believe it. She bit her lower lip as her pussy continued to quiver with orgasmic aftershocks that didn’t abate until the bike slowed and then stopped a minute or two later.
Marnie was still trembling when he cut the engine off and stood up, removing the helmet to look at her. She couldn’t meet his gaze.
“You alright?”
“Uhm hmm… uh huh.” She tried to sound casual while blushing furiously.
“Scared of bikes?”
“Nope.” She tried to jump off quickly, to close her legs so he wouldn’t see the wet spot between her thighs, but instead of a nimble exit, she more or less tumbled off the bike and onto the grass.
Rushing around with a short curse, Sam helped her up, his strong arms wrapped around her as he stood her up on her feet. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you, little girl?” He kept his arms around her as he looked down at her, as if he didn’t want to let her get away too quickly.
Marnie stifled a guilty little embarrassed grin. If he had any idea what she’d just been doing against his back, he wouldn’t be calling her little girl. He’d be… she didn’t know what he’d do.
Although she didn’t want to, she leaned against Sam, grateful for his strength. Her legs were like jelly and with trying to clamp her thighs tightly shut to hide her disgrace and the way her pussy was throbbing, she couldn’t even stand. Her heart raced and her breath came in short, ragged little gasps that she tried to control, but as Sam continued to hold onto her she got the sense that he could see right through her. She could just about feel his brow rising as he figured out what she’d done, what she still wanted to do.
Her whole body tingled from the aftereffects of her orgasm. Sam’s strong hands tightened around her, pulling her in closer against his hard body, making those tingles intensify, rippling down her spine. She wanted him so badly. Twisting her body slightly, she shoved her pelvis up against his thigh, the seam of his jeans catching against the front of her shorts and pressing against her clit, just about sending her into orbit. Sam shifted his leg slightly and it was all she could do to swallow her moan of pleasure.
A low groan sounded deep in her throat when Sam caught a handful of her hair and tugged it, yanking her head back, forcing her to look up at him. She couldn’t look at him, not when she knew her eyes were still blazing with passion and her face was still red. But nor could she avoid his gaze; he held her head still and stared down at her, and it was then that she realized for certain that he knew. She blinked, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. Sam smiled. It wasn’t a friendly, kind smile meant to put her at ease but a smug, knowing one. A smile that turned her roiling insides upside down and inside out. A smile that told her he knew what she’d done. And he liked it. And he wasn’t averse to helping her do it again.
She couldn’t breathe, the air was too thick. And she couldn’t move. It wasn’t just Sam’s hands holding her in place that rendered her immobile but the electricity that zinged through her entire body, pulsing and throbbing, making her muscles elastic, her body helpless under his touch. She froz
e.
“You’re horny, aren’t you, little girl?” It was more of a statement than a question, spoken in a voice husky with arousal.
“Yessir,” she whispered. Every nerve ending was on fire. If she didn’t get some relief soon, she’d self-combust.
Arching her back shifted her body forward and her stomach pressed against his crotch, his impressive erection stabbing into her abdomen. Smiling mischievously, she rubbed herself against him, blatantly coming onto him. She’d never had an orgasm twice in a row before, but she’d also never wanted a man as badly as she wanted Sam right then.
* * *
Sam tightened his fist around Marnie’s hair. The little minx! It was obvious she was hot for him. She was blushing and trying to avoid his gaze, for starters. But once he held her face still and fixed his eyes on hers, the passion shining brightly in their liquid depths was a clear giveaway. Not to mention the fact that he could feel her trembling, he could hear her quick, panting breaths, and he could smell it. The aroma of her drenched sex was unmistakeable and when he prised her thighs apart with his own, he could see her juices wetting the front of her shorts. He’d felt her squirming around on the back of the bike and wondered what she was doing; now he knew.
Looking down at her flared nostrils, her parted lips, the bold defiance in her eyes, made him hard. She was embarrassed, but she was also blatantly provocative. Her come on, big boy! signals were very clear. His swollen cock threatened to tear his pants apart at the seams. Mischief danced in her eyes a split second before she placed her hand against his crotch, cupping his balls through the fabric, sliding her hand back between his thighs, squeezing.
He swallowed.
“Fuck me.” The words were precise, clipped and clear, but whispered.
Sam didn’t need any further invitation. In one swift move he let go of her hair, spun her around and pushed her over the back of the motorbike, slapping her ass hard as she straddled the machine, one leg on either side of the wheel.
“This is what happens to naughty little girls who make themselves come,” he growled, slapping her ferociously again, much harder than he’d done when he’d spanked her earlier. “They get smacked and fucked. Hard.”
“Yessir.”
“Is this what you want, little girl? To be fucked?”
She was beautiful, bent over the back of the bike, the tops of her thighs splotched pink from where he’d slapped her. He could feel her trembling under his hand. Or maybe it was his own trembling that he could feel; it was a while since a woman had come even close to having this effect on him.
“Yessir!” Desperation tinged her words. “Please!”
Reaching underneath her, he fumbled with the fastenings at her waist, silently cursing his clumsy fingers. Finally he undid the button and pulled down the zip, yanking her shorts down over her hips, dragging them and her underwear down her thighs roughly, exposing her fully to his gaze. There was nothing he couldn’t see with her bent over the bike like that; her full buttocks still lightly marked from the spanking earlier, her red, swollen pussy glistening with her juices. He slid one finger along the inside of her slick thigh, then cupped her sex in his palm. She was ripe for him. His index finger found her swollen nub and flicked it; she moaned.
Frantically, he undid his own pants, freeing his cock, before landing another harsh slap to her ass. She mewled, lifting her hips slightly, offering herself to him. Damn, she was gorgeous.
Grabbing her hips, he slammed himself inside her, surging in to the hilt. She felt so good. Hot. Tight. Pulling out, he plunged back in again, taking her roughly, harshly. There was nothing gentle in his movements; it was aggression that drove him now. It was aggression that she needed; she pushed back against him, taking him in further, rocking in time with his movements.
A few more hard thrusts and he leaned back, his cock sitting just at her entrance, teasing her. He slapped her again, with his left hand this time, and watched in satisfaction as a dark pink handprint sprang up almost immediately. Marnie groaned beneath him, arching her back, silently pleading with him to fill her again.
“Do you want to come again, little girl?” he leaned down to growl in her ear.
“Yessir,” she ground out between clenched teeth. “Please!”
Burying his cock deep inside her again, he grabbed a handful of her hair with his left hand, wrenching her head back, and slipped his right hand underneath her to touch her clit. She was trapped between his body and the bike, completely at his mercy. He liked it, he liked her helplessness. Her clit was pulsing; he rubbed it and she bucked beneath him.
“More.”
Bringing his hand back, he tugged her hair sharply and landed another harsh slap to her rump. “You don’t make the orders, little girl,” he growled. “If you want to come, you stay there like that, bent over this bike, and wait for me to fuck you. On my terms.”
“Yessir.” Her reply was little more than a squeak this time; he could hear her submission. It nearly did him in.
This was so wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this. He knew it. But at the same time, it felt so, so right.
* * *
Sam teased her mercilessly, filling her so completely then pulling out, leaving her empty and bereft. He kept his cock right there, at the entrance to her tight cunt, tormenting her, making her hot for him. Every fibre of her being wanted him. His huge palm whacked against her backside, stinging and burning, yet she wanted that, too. Right now, she was like putty in his hands.
She was dripping for him, she could feel it. His powerful body anchored her in place and drove his cock in deeper, driving her wild with desire. She was far from a virgin, but she’d never had sex like this before. It wasn’t just the position that made it unique—bent over the back of a muddy farm bike—but it was the raw power emanating from the man behind her, the man fucking her senseless, claiming her body as his own, taking his pleasure.
His growly voice so close to her ear did wicked things to her. Heat surged to her core in response to his words, the stern tone twisting around inside her, and she offered her body to him in a wanton display of pure lust.
Their bodies moved in unison, a flawless dance, with each stinging slap of Sam’s palm bringing her closer and closer to the edge. One more slap, one more thrust, and she’d tip over. His fingers moved against her clit again, touching her right there.
“Oh, my god. Sam!” She squealed his name as her body shuddered, overcome with racking spasms as the powerful orgasm ripped away any semblance of dignity she had left. The pleasure washed over her in waves, rocking through her body again and again, making her head spin and her insides explode. Sam was next to her, not touching her now, and she watched out of the corner of her eye as he spilled his hot seed on the ground.
Eventually, the waves of intense pleasure subsided and Marnie crashed back to reality. Beside her, Sam stood tucking his shirt into his pants, a sheepish grin on his face.
Fuck. What had she just done?
Chapter Four
So much for not screwing the crew. He’d only just managed to pull out in time. God. What if he’d managed to knock her up in hours of meeting her?
Marnie looked as shell-shocked as he felt. They’d both lost their heads, which was fine for her, a traumatized girl from a broken city, but what was his excuse?
She hadn’t gotten up yet. Her legs were still wobbly. He could see the tremor in her thighs, and her pants were still down. He could see her well-fucked pussy, the wet folds of her sex. She’d felt incredible. Hot and tight, and so fucking wet. He felt his cock twitch again inside his jeans, but his head was clearer now. He knew what he wanted, and what he had to do.
She started to get up, but he reached out and pressed his hand down on the small of her back, keeping her in place.
“Stay.”
She looked over her shoulder, and he saw confusion in her eyes. He had to make this right, make sure she knew he wasn’t just pumping and dumping her.
“Let me up, Sam,” she blushed.
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“In a minute,” he said, enjoying how cute she was with her face flushed from multiple orgasms, and the embarrassment of being out here in the open with her pussy on display. “I want to get a few things straight with you first, little girl.”
She let out a little groan. “We just had sex, Sam, you can’t call me that.”
“Sure I can, they’re two different things. You’re a very attractive woman, Marnie, all grown up, no doubt about that.” He slapped her ass lightly. “But I’m going to look after you too, and that means you’re also my little girl. Get used to it.”
“What? Like I don’t have a choice?”
“After what we did? I don’t think either of us have a choice, sweetheart. I don’t know about you, but I don’t usually fuck chicks I just met.”
“I don’t usually fuck chicks I just met either,” she mumbled, squirming.
He snorted and smacked her ass again. “You know what I mean. We did what we did. It’s going to happen again, so…”
“Is it?”
“You don’t want to do that again?”
“I…” She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.
She didn’t want to admit it. He got that. Chicks were way harder on themselves when they had sex. Nobody was going to judge him for fucking her that quickly, but odds were she was already feeling guilty. She looked it. He wasn’t going to let her slide into that state of mind.
“There’s nothing wrong with what we just did,” he said, his palm splayed across her ass, possessive. “We’re both adults, we both wanted it.”
* * *
Marnie’s head was spinning. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She’d never had sex like that before. She’d never fucked a guy she hardly knew. She’d never been spanked to orgasm, and she had definitely never been held down afterward and given a talking to.
Her pussy was tender from the multiple orgasms, her butt was stinging from the spanking, and the way he was talking to her made her all quivery again. Sam liked to be in charge; that much was obvious. It had been apparent from the moment she met him, and it had come roaring out when he took her. She’d laid there and let him have her and called him sir and loved every second of it, and now he was telling her how it was going to be… her heart started to pound.