Cowgirl - Sex Stories

Cowgirl

... vulnerable. The second stripe quickly followed, and then a third. Still the girl hadn't moved or made a sound. Kenny could feel the men growing restless behind him. In a rage he brought down the crop wildly in a series of harsh blows that stunned the men watching. The whip lashed viciously across the exposed cheeks and thighs of the patient girl, criss-crossing and leaving four dark, swelling weals. Beth Ann gasped, suddenly, during the pause, and Kenny beamed. "Oh, God," groaned the girl, wiggling her bottom a little. "That's an excellent whip, uh, Mr. Foreman, er, Kenny, sir. It smarts something sharp!" The girl's voice didn't even quaver as she spoke, and as the bl**d drained from his face, Kenny swore he could detect amusement in the girl's speech. The last three strokes were the hardest of all, cruelly placed at the same spot, across the base of the girl's bottom, literally lifting the cheeks. The thick flesh quickly puffed and blistered under the beating, and when the last blow landed, the skin split and scarlet bl**d oozed from the wound. The men watching winced and waited for the girl to collapse in hysterics or scream, but she did neither. She inhaled deeply, then shook her head rapidly, as though clearing it. She stepped back from the wheel and gingerly touched her buttocks with her hands. The sticky bl**d got on her fingers and she sniffed at it curiously. "Not bad, for just ten strokes," she murmured to no one in particular . . . * * * * * Part 2 (*****, M12/F, ...

... Severe, humor, severe whipping) A group of lonely cowhands are astonished by the new female worker their boss hires, but she takes her initiation well. (Approximately 5,856 words. Originally published 1997-11.) "Not bad, for just ten strokes," she murmured to no one in particular. She fondled her rump again. "These will be gone in a week, though. That whip of yours is too light to really bruise beneath the skin. I suppose it was designed that way on purpose -- for repeated use." Speechless, Kenny nodded. His belly ached as though he'd been slugged there. He passed the whip to Leroy without a sound and went to the fire where the kettle hung. Not bothering with a rag, he gripped the hot metal handle with his thick, calloused fingers and poured himself a mug of hot coffee. He hung the kettle back and sat himself on the ground, nodding at Danny, the boy who'd given up his pants. "You're the youngest," he said, his face stiff and shapeless like a rocky cliffside. "Let's get going." Danny, his face red, took the razor strop from another man and stepped forward. He felt awkward in his briefs, though the tail of his skirt covered him slightly, and he approached the woman with real trepidation. From the cool way she watched him anyone coming onto the scene without any background would have thought he was bringing the whip for her to punish him. "Ma'am," the boy said, his voice rough. He half-glanced down between his legs, wondering if his stiffness showed. The girl smiled kindly at him ...