“No, you like to break the rules, you can get punished for it.”
“Firstly, I was hungover the first day here and I don’t recall any ‘rules’ and, secondly, you just sprayed the skin off my face with that hose, I think I’ve been punished enough.”
“You’d be wrong. Come on.”
“Where exactly are we going? Because I could be attacked by anything flashing my white skin off in the darkness. The wild animals will think I’m a great big target.”
He doesn’t answer me, he just starts walking toward the main house. I follow him, cursing and tripping, and when he makes a turn for the barn, I pause. “If you think I’m going to ride a horse, naked, you’re wrong. I treat my foofoo with a little more respect than to put her bare on a hairy ass horse.”
He turns to face me, his lips twitching. “While I appreciate your concern for your ...foofoo, I’m not puttin’ you on a horse.”
I huff and follow him.
He walks into the barn and turns on the light. All the horses grunt and huff as the place is lit up. I walk past one, a little white spotted horse, and pat its nose. I go past Diablo’s stall, and he tries to reach over and bite me. “You’re a bad horse,” I growl at him. “Bad.”
He kicks the bottom of his stall.
“Yeah, fuck you too.”
I follow Enzo into the tack room and stare at all the saddles lined up on stands. “Same rules apply for saddles. I’m not putting my foofoo on one.”
He ignores me, walking over to the wall and pulling off a long-handled whip, with a folded piece of leather on the end. My eyes widen.
“And what, dare I ask, are you planning on doing with that?”
His eyes meet mine and he runs the whip over his hands, smoothing it back and forth, before pointing to a saddle. “Bend over that.”
“When I read the brochure for this place, it said ranch retreat, relax, unwind, have fun. Nowhere on the pamphlet did it say you’ll get whipped naked while being bent over a saddle. Aren’t there rules for that or something?”
He studies me. “If you don’t want it, all you have to do is say that and I’ll stop.”
Dammit.
“Well?” he prompts.
I want it.
The sick twisted part of me wants it, and bad. I turn around, wondering what the hell is possessing me to let a stranger whip me. Sure, we’ve been intimate, but we sure as hell aren’t overly familiar with each other. One thing is for sure, I trust him, and that’s a feeling I don’t get often with people I don’t know.
I bend over the saddle, the leather squeaks as my breasts press against it. I can smell the musty scent of horses and leather combined, and it’s rather comforting. I reach down, hanging onto something that is coming off the saddle, and then I wait.
“What part of you likes this?” he growls, walking toward me and running a hand down my bare bottom.
“Probably the same part of you that likes it,” I say, my voice breathy.
“How many strikes do you think you deserve?”
“I thought you were in control of the whip, or do you need to step aside and let someone with experience do it?”
The whip comes down hard over my bottom, which is exactly what I wanted. I cry out, pain bursting across my skin, a burn that’s incredibly arousing in the right situation.
“I ask again, how many strikes do you deserve?”
“Two,” I say, my voice shaky. “One for tipping us off the kayak and one for skinny dipping without permission in the lake.”
“And?” he growls.
“And?” I squeak.
He slaps me again, this time harder. I moan and close my eyes, the burning sensation overwhelming.
“And for letting another man see your naked body without care.”
“Last time I checked, you didn’t own my body to be able to tell me who can see it and who can’t.”
He runs his hand over the marks no doubt becoming clear on my bottom. “Not yet, sweetheart.”
His fingers glide between my bottom and find the entrance to my pussy, slowly, he slides them inside me where I already know he’ll find me aroused. I whimper as he slowly pulls them out, before pushing them back in, creating a friction that is out of this world incredible. He does this until I’m squirming, until my body is on the brink, and the second an orgasm rises to the surface, he brings the whip down on my bottom again.
It's unlike anything I’ve ever felt, the mix of pleasure and pain as I find my release at the same time the leather meets my skin, is unlike anything I’ve had the joy of experiencing in my life. My screams echo through the barn and pleasure explodes in my body.
“Again,” I beg.