Friday, 3 April 2015

Friday, April 03, 2015 -

Dana and the Drifter

by Abigail Armani
Published: Feb 10, 2015
Words: 30,614
Category: western, romance
Orientation: M/F
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"Take off your clothes."

Dana blinked. "What - all of them?"

"Every stitch."

"Oh. But..." She cast him a pleading look which was answered by an impassive stare from midnight-blue eyes and a slight quirky raise to his eyebrow as he waited for her to obey. She pouted and fluttered her eyelashes - it was worth a go - it sometimes worked. Alas, not today.

"Now, Dana." He strode across the room and sat on the edge of the bed, watching her as she resigned herself to the inevitable and slowly began unbuttoning her shirt.

"I said I'm sorry," she ventured, as her bra and jeans joined the discarded shirt on the floor.

"Not good enough. I warned you not to ride Black Jack, yet you disobeyed me - again."

Dana gulped. It was true. Black Jack fascinated her - he was a beautiful, vibrant horse, all muscle and solid bone, with a sleek black coat, a fiery glint in his eyes, and a temperament to match; he responded only to Ethan, a fact proved all too clearly as he whinnied his outrage and reared only moments after Dana struggled to mount him, sending her tumbling from the saddle to land ignominiously in the dirt. Stunned and winded, she had lain there as Black Jack towered above her, thrashing the ground with his powerful hooves. If Ethan hadn't come rushing over to scoop her up out of harm's way ... She pushed the thought aside, tacitly acknowledging that she deserved this spanking.

"Sorry," she repeated, biting her lip apprehensively.

Ethan looked pointedly at the pile of clothes on the floor. Following his gaze, Dana quickly picked them up, folded them, and set them on a chair, where she lingered wearing only the briefest pair of panties. With a sigh, she slid them down her creamy thighs and placed them on the chair.

She stood before him, keenly aware of her nudity, and the fact that her rose-tipped nipples had hardened in greeting. She hated it when she had to strip for a spanking - it was much more fun when he undressed her. But fun wasn't exactly on the agenda right now. She had been disobedient and foolish, and now it was time to pay the price ... on her naughty bottom.

"Come here, Dana." Ethan's left hand shot out and patted the bed. Such a large hand. Hard, like the cast iron skillet she used for cooking pancakes.

Her feet carried her reluctantly forward as her eyes remained fixed on his hand. Then that same hand raised to cup her chin and tilt her head up. His eyes met hers.

"Why am I going to spank you, Dana?"

"I messed up," she admitted. When no immediate response was forthcoming, she elaborated. "I was disobedient, and I put myself in danger. And I'm sorry ... real sorry."

"I know," he said, in a tone that was soft yet firm. "You know the score. Over you go."