He climbed into his truck and carefully sat down in the driver's seat. The burning sensation made his face flush, and his arousal became more prominent the farther his mind wandered back to the events of the previous night. He scolded himself and tried to switch his thoughts to something else, but the persistent pain every time the truck bounced wouldn't allow it.
He had never been hit before. Not as a child for punishment or as an adult for pleasure. It wasn't something he had ever given much thought to, and all his normal sexual encounters had never led to an opportunity for experimentation. They were usually short, abrupt, and rarely even remembered.
Why had he gone back? Twice he had gone back. The first time he blamed on his pride. The second time was the usual bad decision alcohol often subjected him to. He couldn't stand the thought of some random woman rejecting him, especially in the way she had. He had sailed through life on charm and good looks, and he still couldn't figure out why this woman made him feel so inadequate.
There was something about her, though, that made him feel powerless. The authoritative way she spoke, the way she looked at him like she owned him, the way she had dropped her coat and stood over him as he cowered. He could have fought back. It would have been an easy victory, but at the time she had seemed untouchable.
He was now fully erect and more confused than ever. Last night he had thought he was a victim of Alcohol Arousal Syndrome, a term his friend Trevor had come up with as an explanation for when he managed to get hard for a woman who was less than attractive. But he wasn't drunk anymore.
When he pulled into his driveway he quickly ran into the house and into the bathroom. He pulled his clothes off, jumped in the shower and wrapped his hand around himself.
He imagined her standing over him in her sheer dress, running the leather strap through her hands as she looked down at him. Her voice kept running through his head. Good boy, she praised him, bending down to run her hand down his back. He turned away from the running water. When the hot stream hit his buttocks the sting felt like she had just hit him again. He came hard, putting the palm of his hand against the tile for stability.
After his shower he pulled on jeans and a button up shirt then wandered into the kitchen where his sister stood washing dishes.
"Good morning, Sunshine," she greeted him, her eyes not moving away from their task. Kim was the only one left in his family willing to tolerate him in her house, which was why he had moved in with her two years ago.
"Morning," he replied, pouring himself a bowl of cereal.
"You didn't come home last night. Where were you?"
He rolled his eyes, sensing the start of the normal interrogation. "Out," he answered curtly.
"Out where?" she drilled, turning to face him.
"Why does it matter where I was? Why do we have to have this same conversation every fucking morning?" he shouted.
"You know why!" she fired back. "How much more of your life are you going to throw away? Which addiction were you feeding this time?"
"I wasn't feeding anything! Fuck you!" he yelled, getting up from the table.
"Don't leave that bowl there. I'm not going to clean up after you in my own house."
He ignored her and kept going, slamming the door on his way out. He pulled on his boots then climbed into his truck. Though he knew he owed his sister an apology, he started his engine and drove away. She would accept his apology when he eventually offered it. Everyone always did.
A few minutes later he was following the narrow driveway that led back into his parent's place. He backed up to their stock trailer then climbed into the bed of his pick-up to hook it up. After his horse was saddled and loaded he drove back down the driveway. Cowboying was the only job he could maintain and his uncle owned enough land and cattle to keep him busy.
It took about thirty minutes to get to the main ranch from his parent's house. As usual, when he drove over the cattle guard at the entrance, he was the last to arrive.
"You're late," his Uncle Clay said as he got out of his truck.
"I'm always late," he replied, then went to go unload his horse.
"Where'd you end up going last night?" his friend Conner asked, riding up to him and waiting while he climbed on.
"Home," he lied. He grabbed onto the saddle horn and pulled himself up, trying not to wince when he sat down on the roughout seat of his saddle.
"Did you hear they hired a hot new bartender at Tiny's? I call first dibs but you can have the seconds if you want when I'm done," Trevor said as he rode up beside them.
"She's only a six but that just makes 'em more eager to please," Ryan said from behind them.
All the men burst into laughter, except him. He managed a half smile as he ran his hand down his leather reins.
"What's wrong with you," Trevor asked. "You're being way too quiet."
"I'm just tired," he said, avoiding his stare.
"Hey, you get the number of that girl you brought home the other night? I wouldn't mind the sloppy seconds on that one. Fuck she was hot. Where the fuck did she even come from?" asked Conner, turning around in his saddle to look back at him.
"You know we went to school with her?" he asked, curious if anyone else remembered her since even her name didn't sound familiar.
"No we didn't," Conner replied. "Did we?"
"Yes, we did. She even lives here down Cherokee Road," he said.
"Huh. So was the pussy as hot as the rest of her?" Trevor asked.
"I don't know. She wasn't the kind." It was a half truth. He was too embarrassed by the full truth.
"What the hell do you mean she wasn't the kind? She went home with you after five minutes," Ryan said with a laugh.
"And nothing happened so fuck off."
"Oh shit. Please don't tell me you're gonna date this girl and get all whipped actin' like fuckin' Johnny," Trevor whined.
"I'm not dating anyone and I thought Johnny and his girl broke up," he said, trying to change the subject.
"Yeah, I think they did. Good, 'cause that girl was a bitch," said Trevor. Conner and Ryan mumbled in agreement.
It took them a few hours to ride through all the cattle and he spent the time trying his hardest to remain focused on the task at hand. When he got back to his trailer he dismounted and loosened his cinch. He unbridled his horse and went to load him up.
"See you tonight!" Trevor and Ryan waved out their windows as they drove by him. He waved back but didn't answer, still undecided where he would end up tonight.
*********************
"I wasn't sure what to wear," he said shyly as he walked into her house.
"What you have on is fine," she told him, assessing his jeans and button-up shirt. A black limo pulled up and parked in front of the house. "Let's go," she directed him. "We can go over the rules on the way."
"A limo comes to pick you up?" he asked incredulously as they walked down the driveway.
"One of our slaves owns a transportation business and likes to treat his mistresses well," she answered.
He sat across from her then began to squirm uncomfortably when he noticed her eyes watching him.
"I don't want to participate in anything," he said, wanting to make it clear he was only going out of curiosity.
"That's fine, but you will have to wear a collar."
"Like a dog collar?" he balked.
"Yes, with my emblem on it."
"Why?"
"Because then the other dommes will know you're there as my personal slave, off limits to them," she explained.
"Can't you say I'm just there to watch?"
