Goldie & the Three Doms (2 page)

He gently tied the blindfold on her, and Goldie shivered with delicious fear. A thrill-of-the-roller-coaster kind of scared. Once her eyes were covered, he kissed her lips, gently at first, then with a more demanding pressure.
Now we’re getting to the good part.

Their kiss ended. She listened to him walk away, open a drawer, and then his footsteps led him back to her. She could feel his warmth as he approached, and heard the scuffing of his pant legs rubbing together. Something soft touched a nipple; the sensation pleasant but not as satisfying as teeth would have been.

“If you want to orgasm,” he told her, “that’s okay. You don’t need permission or anything.”

She wasn’t even wet yet. “Okay, Bob.”

The light touch flitted over her other nipple, then continued down her belly toward her navel. She squirmed at the tickly sensation. It traveled over her lower belly and then up the side of her body toward her smooth armpit. When it stopped, she quivered with anticipation.
Any minute now he’ll make me melt with sensation.

But, alas, Bob Bentley’s idea of the good stuff was to tease her more, tickling her until she giggled, then more, until she was out of breath with laughter.

“You have a lovely laugh,” he said, laughing along with her.

More tickling and then he kissed her once more.

“That was nifty, Bob,” she told him. “But where’s the slap to go with the tickle?”

“Hmm. I have just the thing.”

He rummaged in the chest while she waited.

“Now, don’t forget your safe word,” he warned. “This is going to be forceful.”

Forceful is good!
“I’m ready, Bob.”

Her muscles tensed as a puff of air blew by her naked bottom.

“That was a warm-up,” Bob told her.

Something soft and light hit her behind. “You okay, Goldie?”

“Sure.” She wondered how bored she’d become in Bob Bentley’s bonds.

“I’ll continue,” he said through gritted teeth. There was another touch of tails on her butt, and then another and another, until she thought she might be polished, but she sure wasn’t stung.

“You’re not orgasming, are you?”

“Um. No, Bob.”

She felt his hands behind her head and the blindfold fell away. After she’d blinked for a few seconds, he held up his torture implements for her to see: a long marabou feather and a velvet flail.

“Wow, Bob. You are scary.” She couldn’t think of anything more gracious to say.

He nodded. “I know. I warned you, though.”

“You sure did. You know, I’m not sure I’m the right girl for you.”

Untying her hands, Bob sighed. “Well, you didn’t come.”

“No. I’m sorry. Maybe the next girl will be just right.”

“I haven’t given up hope. Want to take a loaf of bread with you as you leave?”

Goldie dressed. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. Not even the weather had any starch. She waved to Bob as she hurried away in her speeder, hoping that the next fellow she met would be the one for her. Bob Bentley bored her beyond belief.

R
eturning to the main road, Goldie once again confronted the trident fork in the path. This time, she chose the eastern thoroughfare. She went a few kilometers down the yellow cobbles and an apple scent drifted through the air intake. It was a nearly overwhelming smell and made her stomach growl, despite the chunk of bread she’d had that Bob Bentley’d baked.

Apple trees surrounded her. She stopped and got out. The clouds had cleared and sunshine beat hot and stifling against her back. As she gathered a pair of apples, she wondered at the weird weather on the island and chalked it up to global warming.

She hurried back to the speeder, and once she got in, she turned the air conditioning all the way up and sat back to enjoy her lunch.

The apples were delicious, and she was wiping juice off her chin when a man rode up on a roan horse. His dark hair blew in the hot wind.

“You’ve got some nerve!” he shouted. “Stealing my apples!”

“Oh!” Goldie took in his riding crop and tall riding boots. “I’m sorry, Mister. I’ll pay you for the fruit.”

“You sure will. Get out of your speeder.”

Goldie considered hitting the accelerator and zipping away from the bronze-skinned guy, but she loved his take-charge attitude and woodsy look. She got out and offered her hand with a smile, trying to diffuse his anger. “I’m Goldie, and I’m looking for a man who’s just right.”

“Hmph.” He hesitated over her hand. Finally, he shook it vigorously and introduced himself. “Raoul Ramirez,” he said. “You owe me for the apples.”

“How much?”

“You’ll see.”

“What?”

“Don’t you like mysteries? I assure you, it’s safe.”

He was good looking, in a rugged kind of way. She shivered, despite the heat, as she imagined the sting of his riding crop on her pristine behind. It was just too alluring. “Okay, but I’m not a slut, so I draw the line at oral sex.”

He nodded his agreement as he got back up on his horse, offering his hand to help her up. “Ride behind me.”

“But what about my speeder?”

“It’ll be safe here. Climb up!”

Thinking that she was going to get chafed as she rode along without jodhpurs, or even panties, she settled behind him and put her arms around him securely. He spurred his horse and they took off through the trees at a trot. It wasn’t long before they approached a stable. Horses tossed their heads as they baked in the sun.

Raoul’s stiff posture relaxed as they headed into the stable. It was quiet there as the afternoon heat made everything and everyone move slower. Raoul tossed his reins at a groom, dismounted, and reached up to help Goldie down. Her knees were a little wobbly, but she recovered quickly.

All through the horse-and-leather-scented stable, Goldie wondered about the man who led the way. He tapped his crop against his booted leg impatiently. He hadn’t smiled; maybe smiles didn’t come easy to him; maybe he was a natural grump. Perhaps it was a mistake to accept punishment from someone she’d just met. But she was on this journey for the adventure. She wanted to experience men with powerful personalities and rigid…demands.

They reached the breezeway of a sprawling red brick house, and entered through wide double-doors. The interior was black and white with red accents, stark and cold. Everything was positioned at right angles. The air conditioning left things chilly to the point of discomfort. Goldie rubbed her arms.

“I have a track on the other side of the house,” Raoul told her.

“Track?”

“For pony-girls. They amuse me.”

Goldie stared at his back. “I don’t know what a pony-girl is.”

He looked over his shoulder and an evil smile played on his lips. “You’ll see.”

If this guy gets any creepier, adventure be damned, I’m outta here.

At the other side of the house, he unlocked a red door, and motioned for her to cross the threshold first. Her initial impression was that it was a jogging track. There was a giant oval painted on the wooden floor. On closer inspection, some limited grandstand seating was apparent in the middle of the oval, and in a dim corner there was a little buggy just big enough for one person to ride in.

Raoul closed the door but didn’t lock it. Goldie relaxed a little. There was a way out if she needed it. “I want you to wear pony tack, so you’ll have to take off your clothes.”

Naked was no surprise, but equine tack? “You’re going to dress me up like a horse?”

He nodded. “Yes, and you’re going to pull me in the buggy around the track.”

“Wow,” she said softly. “You really are kinky.”

Laughing, he gestured to her body, and she got the hint. Goldie took off her clothes.

He dressed her up in a fancy bridle—complete with a bit for her mouth—and a leather harness that had straps looping around her chest at the nipples and tight around her waist. There was a band that went from her waist, through her legs and up around the crease in her butt where it sprouted a thick, glossy horse’s tail of palomino gold. She wore towering platform shoes that clip-clopped on the floor, and there was a bright blue plume at the top of her headstall. She looked in a cheval glass and her eyes got wide. The getup was sexy! She looked sporty and sleek, like a thoroughbred.

“Trot around the track once.”

Playful and thinking that this was a pretty easy punishment for stealing apples, Goldie trotted around the track. She loved the sound her shoes made and the swish of her tail against her thighs and the backs of her knees. The straps made her nipples ache pleasantly, and the strap though her legs sensitized her pussy.

Raoul stood there, watching her, and when she got back to him, she could see his riding pants bulge where a thick erection had arisen. “Lovely.” His voice was dreamy and unfocused. After a moment of staring at her, he reached for the zipper in his pants and pointed to the floor. “Get down and use your mouth on me.”

“Ah cand.”

“Oh, right.” He took the bit out of her mouth and resumed his stern expression, watching as she sank to her knees in front of him.

Raoul released his rampant rod and Goldie took it reverently in her hands. She’d done this once before, a long time ago, and only for a few minutes.
This is adventure! This is exactly what I wanted. I wonder if he’ll let me keep the outfit.

Tenderly, she stroked his engorged penis. Her fingers traveled up, down, up again, and lovingly over the velvet head. A drop of moisture formed at the opening, and she touched her tongue to it, surprised and delighted by its
umami
goodness. She trailed her tongue down his length a few times, then took the bulbous head in her mouth and sucked gently. Her tongue wrapped around it, then slid over the sensitive flesh with surer strokes. Raoul was rapt, gripping his riding crop, white knuckled. She bobbed up and down on him for a while, and he released the riding crop, reaching for her head in order to direct her speed and depth. He wrapped his hands in her golden mane and thrust his hips forward. Goldie cupped his balls and fondled them while he compelled her to take him deep in her throat. It was a little much for her, but it sent a delicious thrill through her middle. In a few seconds, he let up so that she could take a deep breath and continue more comfortably. He swelled even bigger in her mouth, and his balls tightened. Panting, he rocked his hips faster. She was so happy she hummed. Raoul groaned and forced himself deep into her throat again, spurting his happiness like a tiny fountain.

She gasped and rocked back on her heels. His eyes were half-lidded, his mouth turned up with a content smile.

After a minute, he tucked himself back into his pants, shook his head a bit and pointed to the buggy. “I know you don’t trust me, but I’ll give you a safe word and I promise that if you use it, I’ll stop immediately. Okay?”

Goldie nodded.

He reached down and helped her put the bit back in her mouth. “With that bit in your mouth, you will have difficulty pronouncing anything, so we’ll have a safe gesture. Just wave your arms in the air, straight over your head like a sports fan.”

Again, she nodded.

It took a little effort, but eventually she was in the harness of the buggy. It was a chariot-like thing with two wheels, but unlike a chariot, it had a seat for the driver. Raoul attached reins to her chest harness and off they went around the track. It wasn’t hard to pull the buggy. The wheels were big and the floor smooth. She high-stepped around about half-way, when all of a sudden a stinging swat landed on the right side of her butt.

“Ow!” she exclaimed, although it sounded more like “owl” with the bit in her mouth. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see Raoul smiling and waving his riding crop. As she turned back, he struck her again, this time on the left side. She protested by stopping.

“Keep going,” he told her, smacking her on her ass again.

Goldie continued around the track, picking up three more swats as she went. She wondered how she could have possibly been eager to feel that crop. It hurt and wasn’t sexy at all.

Her rear was well and truly sore by the time she’d been around the track twice. The riding crop hurt something fierce, and she figured she’d paid the price of the apples and then some. When he struck her one more time, she stopped and waved her hands in the air vigorously.

“Are you okay?” he asked, getting down from his seat and approaching her on the right.

She shook her head. “O, ah nah ogay,” she said around the bit.

Raoul removed the bit and bridle. “Talk to me.”

“That crop hurts! I want to quit. I think I’ve paid for the apples.”

He nodded. “Yes, I suppose so.” His head tilted to the side. “Say, you’re a good sport. Do you want to stick around for a few days and see if we’re compatible?”

“No, thanks. That crop is too hard. If you don’t mind, we can just call it even.”

Raoul’s mouth drooped at the corners. “Would you like some more apples as you go?”

Goldie dressed, took her apples and headed back for her speeder, roundly rejecting Raoul Ramirez’s roughness.

T
he orchard path wasn’t marked well and Goldie took a wrong turn on the way back to her ride. The aroma of apples all around her soon made her addled and she wandered until she found the highway. She’d gone much further north than she wanted to, and her speeder was south on the highway. Looking right and left, she saw that if she traveled north further, she’d approach a large stone structure, a lot like a castle, to the north. It wasn’t far, and who knew how far back her speeder was, so she went north on the road, following the middle route of the fork. Maybe she could get a ride back to her speeder from someone at the castle.

She trudged along until she was about a hundred meters from the building. It wasn’t a castle, but a rock mansion, with mullioned windows and pennants flying from the roof corners.

“Hey!”

Goldie heard the masculine yell, but didn’t see where it came from, until a man waved at her from a window on the second floor. “Hello!” she called.