Serendipity Ranch (12 page)

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Authors: Breanna Hayse

BOOK: Serendipity Ranch
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Preston, once again, noticed Serena’s failure to emerge from the RV. With a sigh, he went to look for her. She was sound asleep on the bed with Gem cradled happily in her arms. Her face was still red and puffy from crying, and she had never looked more beautiful to him than she did at that moment. All her defenses were stripped away, and she was simply a little girl clinging to her puppy. With a smile, he let her sleep.

Serena sat up groggily, wincing as the mattress pressed against her welted behind. Gem yawned, stretching and flipping to her back to show her tummy.

“I guess we fell asleep. I hope Daddy isn’t mad at us,” Serena said, rubbing the animal’s soft stomach. Gem wagged her tail lazily. “Let’s go find him and tell him we’re sorry, okay?”

Gem followed Serena outside where they were struck by a blast of heat. Surprised, Serena returned to the RV and grabbed some bottles of cold water. She found Preston at the woodshed, trimming the door. He looked up.

“Good nap?”

“Yes. I’m sorry about earlier,” she said, handing him the water. “Gem and I had a long talk, and we’re going to try to be better for Daddy, aren’t we girl?”

Gem wagged her tail and rushed to cover Preston with kisses. Boo stuck her head under Serena’s hand, licking her slowly in comfort. Serena dropped to the dusty ground and wrapped her arms around the larger dog’s neck to hug her. Preston smiled as he ran water over his hands and face, mopping himself dry with a towel.

“I told you my girls would make you comfortable about having a Daddy. Come here.”

Serena inhaled deeply as his long arms encased her. She started to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I was wrong. You don’t smell anything like goat. More like sweaty hay. Too bad the pool isn’t finished yet.”

“Soon enough, my darling. How does your backside feel?”

“Sore still,” Serena blushed, pulling away.

“Let me see. Drop your drawers.”

“No, Preston. It’s in broad daylight and—”

“Are you defying me?”

A shiver ran down the woman’s back as she quickly shook her head. Slowly, she lifted the smock and reached underneath to lower the bloomers. She turned her back to the man as she showed him her well-striped rear. Another shiver traveled over her body as his long fingers gently traced the marks left by the switches.

Serena gasped as he bent her over the tall bale again, his hands not leaving her flesh as he pushed her chest completely down to rest on the hay. He then gently spread her legs wide apart using his foot and knee. She heard the sound of a zipper and the rustle of his jeans as they were pushed away. Preston’s cock stood at eager attention as he gazed upon the pale globes of Serena’s cheeks decorated with splashes of lovely rose-colored speckles and long red lines. Her naked gash beckoned to him. Its smoothness made him want to stroke and lick her, bite her, plunge himself deeply into her. Without hair to obscure his view, he could see, between the pouting lips, every detail of her female anatomy, flushed with excitement and sheened with moisture.

He leaned his long arms to either side of her body and whispered into her ear. “I am going to break my own rules and make an exception right now because I find your bottom completely irresistible.”

The bulging tip of his cock sought its sweet refuge and drove deep within her wanting core. Serena groaned with the sweet invasion, raising herself on her toes and trying to lift her bottom even higher to accept the fullness of his thick manhood. Bracing his arms on the hay, Preston plunged his shaft into her depths, feeling her muscles milk him hungrily. He propelled furiously in and out as she swallowed him whole and clamped down in an attempt to keep him inside.

Serena whipped her head from side to side as he took her from behind, feeling deliciously wicked as they rutted like livestock out in the open. His balls slapped against her thighs as he zealously jutted his massive rod in her hot, throbbing pussy.

“More—Harder—” she begged as she felt the tickling of a climax grow in the pit of her belly.

“Play with yourself,” Preston ordered, gritting his teeth as he slowed his strokes.

Desire overwhelmed Serena’s inhibitions, and she reached between her widely spreads legs to touch the hardened, blood-filled knob of her clit. She felt his cock as it stroked in and out of her, covered with her juices and demanding release. Slowly, she started to rotate her index finger upon the swollen nub, arching her body in rhythm with his and clenching as tight as she could each time he pressed himself into her womanly void.

“I’m—Oh God—Pres—I’m—COMING!” she screamed, the tight walls of her pussy clamping down tightly on his shuddering pole as the colossal surge of pleasure plummeted through every pore of her frame. His grunt joined hers as his cock made its final descent into her womb, buried in the deepest recesses of her body as it emptied itself of steaming, hot seed.

Serena collapsed in a breathless heap upon the bale of hay, feeling Preston’s weight upon her back and his breath on her neck. She turned her face in that direction. “Pres? I really like it when you break the rules. Wanna break some more?”

Preston just laughed. He now knew he had created a horny little monster!

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

Serena sat nervously on the bench outside of the new woodshed Sunday afternoon. She was dressed in a pale blue smock with a white apron, stockings, and little ankle boots. The outfit was cute, she admitted, except for the bloomers. These were split in the middle to allow easy access to her posterior and felt strange under the airy dress.

She watched as Preston thumbed through her punishment book, trying desperately not to break out in a terrified sweat. He looked up from her book and contemplated his next move. “Serena, you have fifteen accounts of swearing, seven of disrespect, three of failing to do your chores, and four tantrums. That is an awful lot of trouble for one little girl to accumulate in just one week, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Serena tried the words on her tongue, surprised to see how easy it felt. She also hoped it would give Preston reason to spare her.

“Yes, Daddy,” he repeated back. “NOW you decide to show submission. Brat,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “This is how things are going to go, young lady. Of all these things, I abhor disrespect the most. For each count, you will receive a taste of the strap—”

“No, Preston! Please—” Serena looked frightened.

“No Daddy now? My, that changed quickly,” he observed. “Cussing is the paddle, failure to do your chores is the hairbrush, and temper tantrums are with my hand. You will always incur corner time as well to consider your punishment.”

“Can’t we negotiate this?”

“Negotiation implies that both of the involved parties have the option to come to an agreement or a compromise. Being that we already agreed that I will make the decisions and you will be responsible to follow them, the subject of negotiation at this point is considered moot.”

“Does that mean the answer is no?” Serena asked. Preston frowned. “I guess so,” she sighed.

“One more thing. The woodshed will be used for your strappings and paddling, but you will go into the RV for the remainder of your discipline. Have you anything to say, young lady?”

Serena looked up at his stern, handsome face from her place on the little bench that he had built especially for her. He teasingly called it the “hot seat” and not because it grew uncomfortably warm in the heat of the day. She bit her lip.

“No, Sir, Daddy,” Serena whispered, suddenly feeling like she was ten years old again.

Preston pointed to the woodshed. “Go inside there and pull up your skirt, lean across the bench, and wait for me. Make certain you have that little bottom high in the air.”

Serena’s legs trembled as she gazed around the special portion of the woodshed. At first glance, it simply looked like any carpenter’s shed—with a sawhorse, a work bench, straight-backed chair, and various hooks and nails on the walls. Her second perusal of the room brought attention to the long-necked, rectangular paddle that rested neatly on the seat of the chair and the thick belt that hung discretely from a hook in the corner of the room.

Gulping back tears, Serena lifted the dress to her waist and draped over the broad platform of the wooden sawhorse. The hard board underneath her pressed uncomfortably into her abdomen, bringing her to the realization that she was not properly positioned. Maybe he wouldn’t notice—

She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard the telltale sound of Preston’s boots outside. The door opened, and she pictured him standing in the doorframe, studying her.

“I’m glad to see that you chose to obey me, my darlin’. Although, not completely,” Preston strolled over to her side. “I told you to put that hind end of yours up. Go on. Mind me.”

Serena bit down on her lower lip as she pushed her stomach forward over the bench, clutching the legs in front of her to keep from tumbling onto her face. With the platform now resting on her pelvis, her bloomers stretched open to reveal her shaking cheeks. Preston reached across to push the material to either side, exposing all her glorious delights. He made no mention of the glistening wetness that shimmered from her womanhood. The little minx, he thought, she doesn’t even know how excited she is
.

“Serendipity Nicole—do you believe in coincidence? Do you think it was fate or destiny that brought you here, to this place, with your beautiful bottom perked high up in the air, waiting to be disciplined like a naughty child?”

Serena did not respond as a rush of excitement raced through her veins. His voice rumbled with a low timbre through the room, adding to the sensation of helplessness, vulnerability, and wanton desire to
feel
. She did not care what she felt, as long as it was something. She felt a hot tear roll down her cheek as he slowly walked around her like a prowling lion.

“You are my very special girl, Serena. It makes me very unhappy to see how you have allowed yourself to come to this sad situation. Why is that? What do you need, Serena?”

He expected an answer. Not just
any
answer, but the
right
answer. Patiently, he waited for the jewels to roll from the young woman’s lips.

“I—I need a Daddy to love me,” Serena choked out, feeling the blood rushing to her face due to her awkward upside down position.

Preston was pleased. She was finally accepting her inner needs, albeit under duress.

“Have you been a naughty girl, Serena? What should Daddy do to help teach you proper behavior? Tell me.”

“Please don’t make me say it. I’m begging you,” Serena mumbled, humiliation flooding every pore of her body. Preston merely waited. He had lots of time to gently break this filly from her self-made corral. His patience paid off as Serena finally conceded. “Daddy needs to discipline me and teach me what’s right and wrong,” she said with a catch in her voice.

“How does Daddy teach the best lessons to his special girl?”

“He spanks me on my bare bottom,” Serena choked back a sob. She had never felt so exposed in her life. Even fully clothed with only her nethermost regions cleared for punishment, she felt completely naked and vulnerable before this strong, dominant man. He had stripped her of her dignity with just a few simple words and left her disturbingly defenseless to anything he desired of her.

“Yes, he spanks your bare bottom,” Preston repeated, running his warm hand across the white span of flesh. Several small bruises remained from the previous days switching. “Why are we here in the woodshed, Serena?”

“Because I was bad and disrespected you,” Serena began to cry from fear as she allowed her inner child to escape the confines of her control. She forgot her pride as she voiced her wrongdoings. “I cussed a lot after you told me not to and called you bad names and insults. I don’t mean to be naughty and rude, Daddy! I’m sorry.”

Real tears seeped from her eyes as she heard her little girl voice admit her faults. Preston patted her back calmingly. “Daddy knows you don’t mean to be, which is why we are here. This lesson will teach you how to be more careful in the future.”

He lifted the strap from the hook and slapped it against his hand, satisfied with the startled jump elicited from Serena’s bottom. “You will receive seven licks from this strap for being disrespectful. Before I start, do you have anything you want to say? This is your only opportunity to convince me that you don’t deserve to be here, receiving this strapping.”

Serena shook her head, grasping the long horizontal plank that ran from one side of the sawhorse legs to the other. She noticed the eyehooks embedded under the wood and balked, twisting to stare at him.

“Ah, yes. Those are just in case you decide to be uncooperative. No reaching back and no moving from your position. This is your last chance. Talk.”

When nothing escaped her lips, Preston placed his body beside her, once again spreading the fabric of the bloomers to either side of her shivering, pale rump. “Very well, seven strokes for disrespect.”

Serena felt leather lightly brush against her bottom as Preston carefully gauged the distance he required for maximum effectiveness. The sound of the first collision between the strap and her flesh resonated through the tiny room, causing Serena to writhe and wail dolefully as a crimson stripe formed in the middle of her upturned hide. With care and deliberation, Preston slashed down the leather strap six more times, but not without allowing a prudently timed and suitable pause between strokes to permit the full benefit of each lash to sink in.

Tears poured in buckets as Serena tried to catch her breath. She felt Preston graze his fingers over the scarlet beacon that used to be her backside. Fear clutched her heart. She had forgotten about the 15 strokes of the paddle! The tearful girl twisted around to give him a pathetic, pleading look. Preston touched her chin and explained calmly that her punishment must continue and not to make things worse by fighting him. He then patted her behind with the flat of the paddle.

“Fifteen I think we said.. One each for swearing,” he repeated.

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