Heiress: Tamed

Sitting tall in her saddle, Zoe Martin cast a restless gaze over the surrounding terrain. She hadn't been in these parts for years, not since her early teens when she'd frequently gone riding with her older sister in the semi-forested terrain beyond the family ranch. She was surprised at how much things had apparently changed, and it didn't that she'd ridden off in a great hurry, desperate to clear her mind of the immense frustration that her father had again refused to pay for the upcoming and much-anticipated round-the-world trip she had keenly planned with a group of close friends. The father had strongly disagreed with her decision to put off college for a leisurely sabbatical, and had been increasingly unwilling to sponsor the comfortable, some would say luxurious, lifestyle that Zoe had come to take for granted. When one of many rows on the matter had yet again descended into shouting, she had left in a huff, found her riding gear and, without another word, set off into the brush on a brown mare taken from the stables.

And now, after a good half hour of angered and absent-minded riding, Zoe was lost. She cursed under her breath. She had ridden off to calm herself, but in truth she was still seethingly angry at her father. A successful businessman and congressman running for re-election, the money she needed for the trip was nothing to him, and she loathed the fact that he used her legitimate needs to punish her when she'd gone against his wishes. Not only rich but a fiercely independent young woman, Zoe did not like being under anyone's control, yet she was far too intelligent to be able to ignore her apparent dependency on the family patriarch. And so she sat on her animal, deep in the woods, frustrated and lost. The mare stirred suddenly under her, prompting Zoe to yank angrily at the reins.

"Where do you think you're going?" she demanded venomously of the horse.

Again surveying the trees to her left side, and the long brush-covered hill that extended away in a curve on her right, she decided to follow the latter, hoping it would lead her to more familiar ground. Kicking her heels into the horse's sides, she urged it up along the hilltop, and when she found it was possible to ride along the height for some distance, she picked up speed. Zoe liked riding fast, and if she was going the wrong way, she'd rather find out sooner than later. The hilltop curved to the left, its path winding between young trees and green bushes, and Zoe pressed on, nearly at a gallop, until suddenly the path was no more. The hill had come to a sudden end, prompting Zoe to pull desperately at the reins, but she'd gone much too fast, and it was too late to stop. Going over the hilltop, the horse neighed loudly as it crashed down a steep slope and then suddenly over a fence that had come out of nowhere. Rattled, it was all Zoe could do to hang on, but as the horse came to a sudden halt she eventually lost hold, slid out of the saddle, and with a thud and a grunt, found herself on the ground all the same.

Bruised, with the wind thoroughly knocked out of her, Zoe remained on the forest floor for a moment, before pushing herself up from the young tree plant she had crushed when the horse threw her. Furious, she threw herself at the horse, screaming in its face.

"You fucking beast! You nearly killed me!"

Shocked and scared, realizing full well that on a less lucky day she might have ended up seriously hurt, the teenager was livid. She snatched up the riding crop she'd kept strapped to the saddle. With an indistinct shout of blind anger, she hit it hard across the animal's side, first once, then again. The horse whinnied and tried to pull away, but Zoe took hold of the reins with her left hand as she again raised the other to strike the beast once more, only to find the riding crop yanked suddenly out of her hand from behind.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she screamed, turning around to face the broad, bulky man she'd had no idea was there until he'd snatched away her whip. "I should ask you that, miss," the man, perhaps twice her age, snapped back. "I saw you come thundering along the hilltop like a fool. You clearly rode far beyond your ability to handle the horse. You're at fault, not the animal, and you're a coward for shifting the blame."

Zoe stared in disbelief at the man, whose age she'd put between forty and fifty. He wasn't very tall, around her own height, with short, brown hair and blue eyes, chin and cheeks covered with several days worth of stubble. And he'd dared reproach her! No one talked to Zoe like that, not even her father.

"Listen you prick, when I want the opinion of a filthy redneck, I will ask for it," she snarled at the man, eyes dripping with contempt. "Now give me my crop, and go crawl back into whatever hovel you came from!"

The man's eyes flared up in return at the insults.

"You need a lesson in manners, girl," he replied, spitting out the final word. "Not to mention in reading a map. You've been trespassing on my property for the past ten minutes, and now you've also ruined my fence and several newly planted trees. Yet you stand here spouting off, like you own the world. Well, you don't own anything here! You're nothing but a stupid, spoiled brat."

Zoe had a short temper at the best of times, but few things made her so furious as being called spoiled. Rattled by her accident with the horse, she found herself now entirely unable to control herself, and without conscious thought she sent the palm of her hand flying across the man's cheek with a loud clap. For a brief second, the man only stared at her, clutching his face where he'd been struck. Then, he grabbed the young woman's wrist and yanked her violently towards him.

"You'd beat me like you beat your horse?" he snarled, voice laced with fury. "There's no talking to you. If beatings are the only language you speak, then by God I will teach you in a way that you might understand!"

Before she could react, the man pushed Zoe up against the horse facing it, yanking her arm around and pressing it against her back, keeping her firmly pinned against the side of the powerful animal, and then pulling her back towards him, wrapping his other arm around her waist and speaking directly into her ear from behind, in his raspy countryside dialect.

"Bend over," he ordered. "What? Let go of me!" Zoe protested, struggling hopelessly to free herself from the unexpected assault. "Oh I'll let you go," he growled in her ear, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath, "but not before I've taught you how to behave as a civilized person! Did you know I have two children, and I never beat either of them? Never had to. But you, by God you need it badly. Now, bend over!"

Not giving her even a second to comply, the man let loose Zoe's arm and instead grabbed her neck, his fingers clutching blonde hair and white skin, pushing her head down so that she stood next to the horse, torso bent over forwards, staring helplessly at the black riding boots climbing up her legs to where the beige, tight riding pants relieved them. Shocked at being manhandled like this, she tried to wring herself free, only to feel the man's grip on her neck tighten, keeping her firmly in place.

"If you don't let go of me right this minute, I swear to God..." she began. "Be quiet and accept your punishment, girl!" he snarled back, before pausing for a grim chuckle. "I'd tell you that this will hurt me as much as it will you, but that's plainly not true."

Zoe, mind now racing, heard the man chuckle again, and then a sudden whoosh as leather split the air behind her. Then, a sudden twitch cut through her body as the length of the riding crop made contact with the seat of her pants, across the full width of both buttocks. For a split second she was in total shock, convinced this wasn't real, that she was dreaming, that she'd hit her head when she fell, or any other explanation infinitely more likely than that Zoe Martin, heiress to what the media had dubbed the "Martin millions", socialite and in some circuits an already well known figure despite her mere 19 years of age, straight A student and valedictorian, stood bent over in a forest meadow and had just had her ass struck with a riding crop. When the briefest moment's denial was shattered by the piercing rush of sharp pain and humiliation that followed the lash, she screamed outright, as much from baffled astonishment as from the pain itself. She jerked instinctively, trying desperately to free herself, but it was futile. Behind her, the man snorted out a mocking laugh.

"Not so fun being on the receiving end, is it?"

He struck her again, the crop making a loud crack as it clashed again across the tight, full ass, this time impacting it only with the extended leather flap at its head known as the keeper. Zoe was on the slender side of a medium build, with a nice pair of B-cup breasts and a pretty face, but as sex appeal went, it was her toned, round backside that stood out. Zoe herself found it too big, but she knew a lot of guys loved the tight, broad curves, emphasized as they sat just below her much narrower waist. Certainly her most recent boyfriend had been much more an ass man, and loved to take her from behind. More than once since their breakup, she had mused over the fact that the ass man had also been a real asshole, sleeping around whenever he got the chance.

The man who stood over Zoe now, holding her down by the neck while using her own riding crop to whip that same bottom, certainly had no objections to its curves. A widower since two years, Ben Bryce had in truth not seen a lot of action since the passing of his wife. At first, he'd been grieving. After that, it just felt too weird to get out there again after so many years. He hadn't honestly felt much in the way of need either, but now, seeing the young woman's rich curves, snugly packed in under the tightness of her riding pants, Ben couldn't help but feel his libido stirred. He was still more angry at the woman's demeanour than anything else, but that didn't prevent his cock shifting in his pants as the seat muscles tightly hugged by those pants struggled in front of him. "Damn it Ben," he thought to himself. "She's young enough to be your daughter, a mere spoiled kid who needs a lesson. Get it together!" He struck her again, drawing another scream.

Zoe still couldn't believe it, but the continued whipping at her bent over ass had dispelled any notion that her situation was not real. She really was getting her ass beaten, with her own riding crop to boot! Her mind was racing, trying to cope with the reality of it, as new strokes landed across her buttocks, prompting her each time to let out a new loud cry of pain and humiliation. Zoe Martin wasn't only used to getting whatever she wanted; she took it for granted, and had all her life. When her family's money and position didn't win out, her strong will ensured she got her way. Yet this man had not only refused her, he'd taken it on him to beat her ass like she was some disobedient child!

"No! Stop!" she demanded, calling out loudly now, and finally also articulating words. "Fucking stop, you asshole, do you know who I am!?" "I know you're a stuck up little brat who likes to blame others when she fucks up, how's that? Or would you rather be something else? Why don't you pretend you're a horse?"

He hit her again, landing a particularly forceful lash across her ass, drawing another scream. The way he'd seen the young woman mistreat her animal had really riled him, even more so than the damage she'd done to his plants, or her bad attitude. Ben was of a mind, that if you couldn't get an animal to do what you wanted without beating it, it was your own damn fault. He'd applied the same idea to his kids, and had never had reason to be anything other than pleased with the outcome. This young girl hadn't been his to raise, but whoever had done it had clearly not done a very good job. She so very much had it coming. He shifted his grip on the woman's neck, but kept her firmly in place, before striking another blow across her buttocks. Ben could see her jerk and twist every time the crop made contact, and in doing so even more emphasizing the delicate, rich, meaty curves of her posterior. He imagined the skin of her ass must be getting red by now. The thought made him realize his cock was fully erect. "Dear Lord, Ben..."

"You got anything to say, girl?" the coarse man demanded, after yet another pair of lashes. "Have you learned your lesson yet?"

Zoe was panting heavily, no longer struggling for the sheer futility of it, though she had continued to cry out every time the riding crop impacted her buttocks, and she'd been unable to keep the tears out of her eyes. Staring down at her boots, feeling the cruel, burning sting in the skin of her butt, she was fighting to control her seething rage, but also to come to terms with the remarkable sense of helplessness she found herself in. She'd never felt anything like this. She'd never been spanked as a child, and when her asshole ex had tried to slap her butt her during sex, she'd told him off for it. Gasping, feeling her whole nether region aflame with the soreness of the repeated blows it had taken by the whip's keeper, and even by its shaft, which hurt even more, she realized the man was expecting a reply.

"Yes," she panted. "Fuck you, and fuck your lesson."

She knew the moment she spoke that she'd suffer for those words, and in truth she felt a lot less cocky than she'd done when first meeting the man, but she'd been unable to hold back. What was she going to do? Beg him to stop, swear she'd learned a lesson for life? Promise to be a good girl from here on out? Not fucking likely. She braced herself for an expected barrage of renewed, no doubt harder, lashes across her rear. She'd scream and she'd cry, but she could handle it. She knew she could.

To her surprise, instead of unleashing further blows across the teenager's ass, the powerful man released her neck. She began to straighten her back, thinking that the stranger had perhaps finally regained his senses, only to find him right up close behind her again, wrapping an arm around her waist. Zoe froze, wondering just how far the man would go with this. Could she stand a chance to fight him off, if he tried to rape her? She couldn't see how.

Her heart nearly stopped when the man's hand reached her taut belly, and in a swift motion undid the button of her riding pants before tearing the zipper down in one, brisk movement.

"Please no," she whispered, suddenly meek and scared. A whipping, degrading as it was, was one thing, but this... "Please don't."

The man's hand stopped for a moment, before he shrugged. Placing a thumb under the lining of the beige trouser fabric, he spoke in her ear, calmly now.

"I'm no rapist," he said. "I guess I understand why you're afraid, but I give you my word, whatever else happens, I won't do that. I could never do that."

Zoe exhaled, still afraid, but something in the man's voice made her believe him, at least until he seconds later slid a second thumb under the lining her of pants, and yanked the riding trousers down all the way across her buttocks. The suddenness of the jerk together with the tight design of the pants made the red lace string panties Zoe had been wearing underneath get pulled along, leaving the 19-year-old's round ass suddenly entirely naked and exposed to the world.

"No!" she screamed, terrified, panicking now. "You promised!" "I promised I wouldn't rape you and I won't," the 40-something man growled in her ear. "But I also promised to teach you a lesson, and it's clear now to me that's not really working out so far. When my old man spanked me, he took his hand to my bare ass. Maybe that's what you need too, huh little girl? Maybe the feeling of leather kissing your bare skin is what it'll take to teach you how to behave like a decent person. How about it, huh?"

Zoe struggled feebly, her mind swimming now, but to no avail as the much stronger man yanked her pants further down onto her thighs, fully baring the entirety of her buttocks. When he had first bent her over and whipped her ass, Zoe had thought it the highest form of humiliation imaginable, but this? Not only were her most private parts being unceremoniously disrobed, but she was going to get whipped on her bare ass. She whimpered in shock as she again felt the strong hand grab her neck and force her head down, the young woman being bent over once more for the continuation of her punishment.

"Please," was all she could muster, feeling a gust of wind stroke her naked, hairless pussy, equally exposed by the forced baring of her bottom, though if the man's words were to be believed, not at direct risk. "Please, you're going to hurt me. I'm... I'm naked. You are going to hurt me real bad," she pleaded. "Hardly," the man scoffed. "Oh it'll hurt alright, and you'll scream, and I'll bet you won't spend much of the coming week sitting down. But you're not in any more danger than that, and it's for your own damn good. Besides, was the horse wearing pants when you took your anger out on her? Did I wear them on my face when you slapped me? This is just punishment, it is going to happen, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Now bend down and take your medicine, girl!"

Ben raised the riding crop again, holding it firmly in his right hand. Having largely given up her struggle, the young blonde instead produced a whimpering sound as she inhaled and apparently tried to steel herself for what was to come. Pausing for a brief moment with his hand hanging in the air, Ben took in the scene. He'd gone out that day to tend the forest, expecting to be alone, but had run into this arrogant young woman, and after one thing had lead to another, she now stood bent over between him and her horse, her pants pulled down to reveal her naked ass. And what an ass it was. Ben was sure he'd never seen anything like it, the way its full, rich flesh seemed to curve perfectly, the way the smooth, perfect skin looked so tight and appealing... No small part of him wanted to get down on his knees and bury his face in between those lush buttocks, but that wasn't what this was about. He reminded himself of the young woman's insolent words, her lashing that innocent animal... and then he brought the crop down with force.

Despite having prepared herself as best she could, Zoe just screamed outright when the riding crop crashed against her naked ass, the leather flap at its end marking her right cheek. It stung like hell, and her cry had scarcely echoed back between the hilltops before he struck her again, and then again. In her rational mind, Zoe knew the crop was designed not to do damage, but only to cause pain, prompting obedience from the animal it was used on. She also knew the design had been intended for horses, not for the naked buttocks of young, upper-class women. In any case, with her riding pants a jumbled mess around her knees and her body receiving a severe castigation, Zoe's mind was far from rational by now. She struggled and twisted, but it was no use. She screamed and she cried, tears rolling down her agonizing face, a far cry now from the photoshopped heiress who had appeared on the cover of a prestigious magazine no more than a month earlier. Meanwhile, the crop she had taken to her horse in anger mere minutes before, continued relentlessly to rake the soft, naked skin of her young ass.

Ben's heart was pounding so hard he thought it might leap out of his chest. Triumphant, he felt he was truly beating the insolence out of this young woman one lash at a time. When he'd deprived her of the protection afforded by those thick, expensive pants, he'd immediately noticed that her ass was already striped with straight, reddish lines, marking her previously milky white, smooth skin where the first round's lashes had hit it. Now that the teenager's curves were fully unprotected, each blow painted it with a new red stroke, fiery in colour, until in no time at all, the entirety of those defenceless, lush buttocks were glowing with a sore, blossoming red tint.