Spanking in the Wild West: Cowboy spanks Cowgirl
Summary:
Abigail was supposed to be taking care of the stables and equipment. Instead, she decided to spend the morning resting. Then, her husband Sam comes by, and he is not at all pleased.
Caught Lazying Around and Confronted: Cowboy and Cowgirl
In the dry afternoon heat, I stood at the edge of the ranch house, hands buried deep in the pockets of my tight jeans. The wind played with the fringes on my checkered shirt, but I ignored it.
I knew I’d be in trouble today.
All morning, I had neglected the stables and equipment. Instead, I’d been wandering around, herding a few horses here and there, completely ignoring my duties. Pure laziness, really.
When I heard his heavy footsteps, I froze. There he was—my husband, Sam. Cowboy from head to toe, with his hat, boots, and that typical gaze that missed nothing.
He had told me a hundred times that there was a time for everything and that he valued hard work. Today, I knew, I had pushed his patience too far.
“Missy,” he murmured with that dangerous smile. His Texan accent always made my knees a little weak, but now was no time for such thoughts. “I heard you’ve been… slacking on your chores today.”
He stood right in front of me, tall and firm. I tried a casual smile, but his piercing look silenced any charming defiance.
“Oh, it was just a small thing, Sam. I’ll do it tomorrow,” I mumbled, trying to brush it off as no big deal. He crossed his arms and let his gaze slowly drift down over me.
“Tomorrow, huh? But today is today.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. “Do you think you can just put things off around here because you’re my little cowgirl?”
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I swallowed. “Sam, come on… I just wanted a little break. It was hot out there, and—”
“And it’s about to get hot here too,” he interrupted me, his voice calm yet full of authority. I sensed trouble. And I was right.
Cowboy pulls down Woman's Jeans and puts her over his knee
With a firm, no-nonsense motion, he turned me around and guided me toward the porch.
The old wooden bench creaked under his weight as he sat down, pulling me into position right in front of him with a quick tug.
“Sam…” I mumbled, trying to pull away. But he simply held onto my hips and drew me closer.
I felt his fingertips grasp the waistband of my jeans. Without a second’s hesitation, he undid my belt, then the button, and finally the zipper.
Each click and rustle made my heart beat faster, and my hands began to tremble.
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“Stop it!” I protested, twisting slightly to the side, but his hands were steady. He slowly pulled down the jeans, inch by inch, until they hung around my thighs, leaving me half-exposed in front of him.
“You didn’t do your work today, Missy,” he murmured, ignoring my protests. “Out here on my ranch, it’s my rules. And if you don’t listen, you’ll get a reminder.”
I wanted to retort, but before I could say anything, he yanked me across his lap with one swift pull.
My upper body dangled over his legs, my hands frantically searching for something to hold onto. His strong arm held me firmly in place, my jeans still around my knees. Uh-oh, this was going to be bad…
Discipline on the Bare Bottom: Cowboy Punishes Cowgirl
“Sam!” I cried, but he already had his eyes on my backside, letting his hand glide over my skin, barely covered by my skimpy underwear. “This is unfair… I’m not a child!”
“Then don’t act like one,” he growled, and before I could protest, he slid the thin fabric of my panties down.
The wind made me shiver for a moment, and I felt my legs nervously twitch. Lying helpless and exposed over his knees… I was so embarrassed that I wished I could sink into the ground.
“Stop it, Sam! Let me go!” I begged. But instead, I felt his strong hand, patting my bottom and moving steadily along my hips before he took my right arm and held it firmly behind my back.
“All right, Missy,” he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Now you’ll learn what happens when you don’t do your work.”
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The first smack landed with a loud, solid slap. I flinched as a burning sensation spread across my skin.
He held me firmly as his arm swung again, landing on the other side. My legs kicked, but he held me steady, controlling every movement with a calm, unwavering authority.
His strikes were steady and firm, the rhythmic smacking echoing across the empty ranch. Each impact made my bottom tremble slightly. I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lower lip. “Sam, please… I get it!”
But he was relentless. “Not so fast, cowgirl. Tomorrow, you’ll remember this lesson.” His hand was strong and determined, and the skin on my bottom began to sting and tingle with heat.
Spanking in the Wild West: Husband Disciplines Wife with Riding Crop
After a few firm smacks, he reached for the riding crop lying next to the bench.
He let the narrow tip slide over my bare skin. The feeling was cold and sharp, and my muscles tensed instinctively.
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“Sam… not the crop…” I murmured, but he only smiled.
“Seems you’ve forgotten who’s in charge here, hm?” He snapped the crop with a sharp strike across my backside. The air whistled, followed by a burning sting.
I gasped and tried to pull away, but his hand held my arm against my back, making it very clear that there was no escape.
He used the crop with precision, stroke by stroke, until my skin was hot and I was blushing with both shame and pain, not knowing where to look.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally stopped and lowered the crop. My bottom was tingling and throbbing, and I lay breathless across his lap. I tried to sit up, but his hand still held me firmly in place.
“Are you ready to take your work seriously now, Missy?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. I nodded and murmured a “Yes.”
Then he lifted me up, sat me on his lap, and wrapped his arm around me. For a moment, the sternness was gone, and he looked at me with a hint of pride.
He cupped my face in his large hands, stroked my cheeks, and finally pressed a tender kiss to my forehead.
“Now you know how things work on my ranch, hm?” he whispered with a slight smile.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered back, resting my head on his shoulder, grateful for his strength and the clear order he gave me—even if I’d never admit it to him.
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