Belinda (10 page)

She slid stiffly off the horse, letting her dress drop back into place, and stared at him red-faced and with tears in her eyes. She half hated him and half loved him.

‘This is all your fault,' he said solemnly.

‘Yes, well, it was,' she retorted sulkily. ‘But now I've been punished accordingly.'

‘No,' he said, and patted the front of his denims to demonstrate his giant erection. ‘I mean this.'

The heat from Belinda's bottom immediately rushed to her vagina.

‘First time I've seen a beautiful woman as bare as that since I got married, let alone had the close contact of whacking her backside. Now you've gone and filled me with craving.' He undid his belt and then his jeans. ‘I can't go home like this,' he continued, ‘so you better give me some relief.' He pulled his penis out into the open.

Belinda had felt it yet never actually seen it, but it was as handsome as she had imagined it to be.

‘Lead me over to that tree,' he said a little hoarsely.

Belinda, suitably chastened and obedient, meekly took his penis firmly in her hand and used it to guide him to the large tree he had indicated. She stood with her back against the rough trunk and pulled his cock closer until it was pressing at her mons Veneris through the flimsy dress. Suddenly consumed with desire she feverishly hoisted her skirts high above her waist once again. Tom gripped the backs of her thighs, lifted her off the ground, and squashed her stinging backside against the knarled tree.

The tip of his penis probed at the highly sensitised lips of her vulva. She tried to suck him in. He moaned and pressed more firmly. She felt the pattern of the bark imprinting itself on her tender bottom, and gave a scream of absolute bliss as she felt his incredible instrument ply its glorious way past her clitoris to fill her until she felt she would surely burst. He kissed her fervently and fucked her with great passion, his bodily spasms increasing with each smooth thrust. Her head lolled from side to side against the tree. Tom panted and strained, and Belinda mumbled deliriously as she squeezed her thighs around his hips and jerked up and down on his erection.

When they came they came together, and she felt as if the combined force of the two orgasms had forced her right through the tree. And then they slumped together down the trunk until Tom was kneeling, and she felt him pulse the last vestiges of sperm into her.

Before they moved off down the hill Tom half-turned in his saddle.

‘Belinda,' he said like a shy boy. ‘I sure hope you understand I did everything I could to be faithful to my darling wife.'

Belinda felt a surge of sentiment and fought back the tears as she whispered, ‘Of course, Tom. Of course I do.'

As they moved away Tom reached back and squeezed her leg; a simple and heart-warming act that filled Belinda with immense affection for the man.

This new heaven continued to augur well when Tom introduced his wife Rachel. She was a big blonde in her thirties, and so beautiful that Belinda fully understood his faithfulness, even if it was only partial. She was a bright and cheerful woman; a real farmer's wife, except there was nothing homely about her face or her figure. Her blondeness was emphasised by a long pale blue dress, and her hair was delightfully curled in a most expensive way. The whole home was equally stylish; everything simple, nothing pretentious, but all of the finest quality.

Rachel greeted Belinda warmly, and expressed shock and sympathy as Tom repeated Belinda's tragic tale from her landing in Virginia right up to her night with the Indians. He also told her that he had asked Belinda to consider staying on as housekeeper, and that his business trip had been eminently successful. So successful, he went on, that he had to carry on riding straight after he had eaten to tell all his neighbours to start rounding up and sorting out their stock for the big drive east that was going to make them all rich men. He would be away for another two days or so. Rachel was disappointed but did not complain, and she was bright and chatty in an intelligent way all through dinner, with Belinda feeling human once again having bathed in hot scented water and dressed in a fresh wine-coloured dress that Rachel had dug out for her. When Belinda agreed to accept the position as housekeeper Rachel clapped her hands with delight and beamed brightly at her throughout the meal.

When the finely cooked steak and potato dinner was over Belinda and Rachel cleared the table while Tom sat by the log fire pensively smoking a cigar. Eventually he rose, gathered his hat, kissed Rachel warmly and bade farewell to Belinda, saying he would see them both in a few days.

Belinda sighed contentedly, but received a terrible shock when Rachel closed the front door and turned back to her. The warm smile was gone and there was a somewhat sinister glint in her eyes. ‘Is something the matter, Rachel?' she asked in bewilderment.

‘What makes you think I need a housekeeper?' she sneered, making Belinda blink in astonishment.

‘B-but…' stammered Belinda, ‘Tom told me you needed help… and he offered me the job.' She was truly alarmed by this turn of events. Rachel pulled a dining chair out from the table and coldly told her to sit. As she respectfully obeyed Rachel pulled out another chair and placed it in front of the first, but did not sit herself. Instead she stood close to the confused Belinda, staring down at her.

‘You want to know why Tom gave you a job?'

Belinda shook her head, and then nodded; she didn't know what she wanted. She started to speak and then judged it best not to. Rachel ignored her anyway.

‘A few months ago me and Tom got drunk here one night, and he got me telling him all my dirty little secret thoughts. Know what I mean?'

Belinda nodded. She knew of such thoughts, but did not know what form Rachel's took.

‘I told him that back east before I met him I used to have a certain bit of fun every now and so often. And while I loved him and my life on the ranch dearly, I sure did hanker after some of that fun.'

Belinda wondered what the ‘certain bit of fun' was, as she looked up at Rachel's full bosom and deep cleavage bulging attractively from the low-cut dress. Moreover, what did it have to do with her?

‘You see, Belinda, I'm a normal healthy woman, and I have my needs – especially when Tom's away on his long rides.'

‘What…' Belinda hardly dared ask, ‘what sort of needs?'

‘I adore beautiful women,' Rachel answered confidently.

Belinda's jaw dropped.

‘I adore spanking beautiful women,' Rachel qualified her particular penchant.

Belinda was utterly speechless. She had been spanked many times of course, and two of her regulars in England had been women… but Rachel?!

‘So you see,' continued the confident woman without respite, ‘that is why my husband offered you the job; to be my beautiful plaything.'

Belinda's head was in a spin.

‘Well?' demanded Rachel. ‘What d'you say?'

Belinda was actually relieved that she wasn't having to face the wrath of a jealous wife, and she had no desire to swap this warm and comfortable ranch for the hostile night outside. She looked up at her domineering host and nodded.

Rachel's eyes lit up triumphantly. ‘Excellent!' she breathed, and went to a corner of the room. She moved aside a casual table and lifted a floorboard. She reached in and retrieved a short cane made of tightly rolled black leather. As she returned to the uncertain Belinda she also picked up a wooden hairbrush from another small table and, from a drawer, a leather strap that looked as if it were made from one of Tom's belts.

Rachel sat on the vacant chair before Belinda and put the instruments on the dining table. They sat facing each other with their knees almost touching through their long dresses.

To begin with Rachel simply stared at Belinda, until the latter became embarrassed and lowered her gaze. She sighed sharply, making Belinda look up again.

‘Show me your legs,' she ordered quietly but firmly.

Belinda nervously gripped the dress and, staring solemnly at her mistress, gathered the material up to her knees.

‘I said show me your legs!' hissed Rachel, and Belinda hastily and wisely bunched the rustling skirts up around her narrow waist so that her white knickers were on display as well as her legs. Rachel breathed slowly and savoured the beautiful sight. Her bosom swelled even more precariously over her dress. She reached forward and pushed the young woman's legs apart. Despite her trepidation a thrill coursed through Belinda's body. She felt a powerful attraction to this strong and beautiful lady of the house, and the implements on the table took her breath away.

Rachel started to explore the silky insides of Belinda's thighs, staring deep into her plaything's eyes as she did so. Belinda luxuriated in the sensual attentions, favourably comparing sitting in the warm with a bisexual hedonist to hanging from a frame in an encampment of murderous savages. She moaned softly, closed her eyes, and leaned back as far as the upright chair would allow. Rachel's hands drifted further along her thighs towards the crisp white cotton and the succulent promise hiding within.

‘This what you liked Tom doing to you?' she coaxed, and when Belinda opened her eyes to answer she saw that Rachel had a hand resting on the leather strap.

‘He didn't touch me anywhere,' she whispered desperately.

‘You liar,' insisted Rachel in a calm but chilling tone. She cruelly held the strap for her victim to see. ‘Cane for long range. Strap for medium range. And brush for close range.'

Before Belinda could ponder the science of it all Rachel raised the leather to her shoulder and then lashed it down on a diagonal course that struck the inside of her left thigh. Belinda didn't need to pretend – it was agonising and she howled in despair. She longed to rub her scorched flesh, but Rachel ordered her to keep the dress held high. Again the strap raised, and again it lashed down spitefully. Poor Belinda howled again as tears welled up in her eyes and burst onto her flushed cheeks. Rachel grinned cruelly at the sight of them.

‘Stand up, you little temptress!' she hissed.

Belinda rose instantly, sniffling and keeping the skirts gathered beneath her breasts. As she stood with her thighs burning and her clitoris tingling Rachel pulled her close and swapped the strap for the hairbrush. She then tugged the crisp white knickers down and gazed upon her triangle of soft chestnut curls. Inserting a finger she toyed with the juicy clitoris that hid there. She inhaled deeply the sweet scent of her plaything, before turning her around and feasting her eyes on those glorious buttocks. Her fingertips traced the red weals from the whipping Tom had administered, but to Belinda's relief she made no comment.

Then she started using the back of the brush. She worked systematically, spanking each calf in turn and gradually working her way up both legs. Belinda was teetering on the edge of a shattering orgasm when the chastisement abruptly – and to Belinda's secret misery – ceased.

‘Take your dress off, darling,' Rachel whispered with a tenderness that totally confused the poor girl. When naked, Rachel made her kneel between her thighs, raised her own blue dress, and dropped it over her plaything's head.

It was warm and dark, and Belinda closed her eyes as hands urged against the back of her head and drew her towards the source of the warmth. Soft thighs caressed her cheeks, and her nose nestled into delicately scented hair.

‘Kiss me,' she heard the muffled instruction through the enclosing skirts. She tentatively licked and kissed the moist labia. Slowly relaxing, she was even beginning to enjoy the task and apply herself more diligently when a strip of heat exploded agonisingly across her bare bottom. The cane rained down on her relentlessly and salty tears mingled with Rachel's flowing juices on her tongue. Desperate to appease her tormentor she sucked and sucked and sucked, and did not scream until the very last vicious swipe of that thin rod landed not on her blazing buttocks but on the upturned sole of her foot.

Thankfully, that was the end of the beating, and they made passionate love for another couple of hours before falling asleep. Rachel instructed Belinda not to let on to Tom, but to act as if she really was a housekeeper, just in case that had really been his intention.

When Tom returned two days later, Belinda rather nervously announced that she wished to continue on her trek to find her uncle. She had come to the decision during the second night, following another torrid session with Rachel. It had certainly been an exciting and sexually fulfilling interlude, and she now knew without a doubt that she could take a deal of pain – even though her innate innocence still left her puzzled as to why so many people wanted to treat her in such a way. But she also knew that she wanted more out of life than being stuck on the ranch forever, and she was certainly opposed on principle to voluntarily following a lifestyle based on sexual gratification, especially as she always had great difficulties in saying ‘no'.

Rachel was, of course, quietly furious at the loss of Belinda – a dream that could surely never be repeated in that remote wilderness – but could say nothing in front of her mildly disappointed husband. It was obvious now that Rachel had concocted the story about his giving her Belinda as a sexual gift. He wished Belinda luck, and arranged for one of his ranch hands to take her to the nearest neighbour, who would then relay her to the next, and so on until he had helped her as far on her journey as he could.