My Cowboy.

He walked in like he owned the place, a smirk on his face and a swing in his step that just was aching to be taken down a notch. Boots he hadn’t worn for more than a week, barely any dirt on em. 

He was new to town and he needed to be broken in. I couldn’t help the smile that spread over my lips, because this happened to be my specialty. All 5 foot of me was bred to be a man eater, my hips a trap and my tits the bait. It was my favorite thing to do to bring a man to his knees until he was begging me to tell him to cum.

But this one…I felt like maybe he’d give me a run for my money. He was confident as he approached the bar, slow enough that the women could get a good look at his jaw, his auburn curls and boyish charm- but fast enough not to linger near the pool table, where money was on the line and one misstep would break out a fight. This was not his first time. Where had I been?

He approached the bar and leaned over, looking down the bar and meeting my eyes. As the bartender approached, he winked at me and just as quick ordered two shots and flashed a bright smile to the bartender.

He slid down the bar to me and looked me up and down. The smile that crossed his lips looked genuinely surprised, and pleased to see me. “Sophia.”

Then I realized the face I didn’t recognize. This was Adrian, my college sweetheart that skipped town and left me brokenhearted with no goodbye. And what were the odds he was in fucking Tennessee? 

“You motherfucker.” I threw the shot in his face, staining the suede in his fucking hat and hopefully ruining that stupid fucking leather jacket. He hadn’t changed a bit, that bastard. 

I walked out of the bar and was both glad and disappointed to not hear him following behind me. I wasn’t one to walk away from a challenge; hell, I never walked away from a fight, but I didn’t know what I would do if I had the chance to lay out Adrian Holmes. I didn’t want to go to jail for that. 

Fighting back tears, I walked home to my condo in the newer part of town. I wasn’t from here either, but I didn’t try to hide it. I knew I was a northern girl, I knew I was an urbanite, but I also knew how to play my part. I never hid who I was. With my dark hair piled high and my dress tight and black, breasts pushed to the limit of physics and leather, I was the definition of the mysterious big city dominatrix the town had come to know me as. Nashville wasn’t a huge place, and word had gotten around to everyone pretty quick when I came on the scene. 

As I strode down the street, the end of summer wind picked up and whipped around my heels. I felt the warmth of the baking sun fading from the air as the sun set and the clouds rolled in. I felt a storm coming, the air heavy and crackling with energy. I reminded myself what an amazing woman I was. Without him, I grew the confidence to move across the country by myself, and made a name for myself in a year or two. I wiped the tears from my eyes, careful not to smudge my mascara, and took a deep breath. Fuck that guy- this was my night off and I wasn’t going to dwell in the past. 

As I rounded the corner I saw a car come up to the corner. Straightening my back, I walked with more purpose as I watched the window roll down out of the corner of my eye. My pepper spray was primed in my hand, and it was only because I saw his tequila-stained hat that I resisted spraying. 

“Sophia,” Adrian asked through the window. His hat covered his face, and he kept his eyes down to the street curb. 

“Leave me alone. Stalker,” I spat, striding away. A part of me lit up at the idea that he had followed me after all, but I was still wondering what I would do if I had him under my hands. I wouldn’t have to wonder long; his car, low to the road, was slowly following behind me, hazards flashing red and orange on the buildings up and down the street. It was quiet for a Friday. 

“Sophia, please. I need to talk to you.”

“Then talk. But I don’t have to listen.” I picked up the pace, trying to get away before the lump in my throat became a flood of tears. I couldn’t have my reputation ruined like this. 

“I’m sorry I left. I didn’t have a choice! And when I came back to town, you were gone. Is there any way I can make this up to you? Please! I hate that I hurt you. Please tell me…” 

I stopped at that. One thing I couldn’t resist was a man begging for any reason. I was overcome with a feeling of power that made me hungry for more. I blinked back the tears, straightened my posture, and turned around. 

“I have one thing you could do.” I could feel my smile returning. 

And that was how Adrian Holmes came to be tied to my bed frame, his ass in the air and a leather mask covering all but his mouth, held agape by a hollow gag. His wrists were bound above his head, his legs spread with a spreader bar.

The light in my room was dim and red, my whip flying through the air to mark his beautiful ass with my marks, claiming him with a smart for all the years he left me broken. His moans filled the room and his squealing, writhing body was enough to nearly send me over the edge. But I held it together.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Adrian?” I brought the whip down.

WHIP!

His muffled cries were music to my ears. I swung again.

WHIP!

“Do you want me to stretch you with my cock?” I teased. “Do you want me to fuck you until you cum like the Good Boy you are?”

The whip came down, the redness glowing in the candle light. He moaned and writhed, pushing back his ass until his hole was nearly perfectly presented. He was practically begging. I grinned, throwing the whip to the side, and smacked him with the palm of my hand. He groaned and pressed against me again. I loved the heat of his body, and was fighting the urge to be closer to him.

“Desperate, aren’t we?” I laughed instead. Pulling the lube from the bedside table, I applied it to his asshole, adding more to the tip of the strapon which I had slung tightly against my pussy, slowly working the lube up and down my pink silicone shaft. 

“Are you ready, darling?” I whispered, pressing myself over his back, my tits scraping against his sensitive skin, puckering at the touch. 

He nodded and quietly moaned. I looked down at him, his mouth forced open by the gag, but still somehow so beautiful. I kissed it, and he pushed forward to try and press his lips to mine longer. 

I pulled back and instead pressed the tip of the silicone cock to his puckered ass, enjoying the slow stretch as I watched him take its girth, listening to the long groaning moan as he felt me move inside of him. It felt like eternity until I was completely buried inside of him, my hips flush with his ass. I held his hips and reveled in the sounds that came from his throat as I pulled back, slowly and teasingly, until all that was left was the tip, before slowly thrusting back in again. 

“Are you enjoying this, my pet?” I knew he was. I would never get the image of this beautiful, muscular man tied up and ass fucked out of my head. 

He groaned low and gruff, each thrust of my hips forcing air from his lungs, and he cried out as his asshole began to clench around my strapon. I could see his cock twitching, and reached my hand around to wrap my fingers around his velvet soft member, hard and already beading precum from the tip. With the pad of my thumb I swirled the warm precum around the head of his cock, teasing him more. He yelped at the sudden sensation, and I started to slowly grip from the tip to the base, jerking him off as I quickened my thrusts. 

“Cum for me, honey. Cum for me, pet.” I wanted him to remember this moment. I wanted him to think of me every time he came, from now on. 

He growled and moaned and gagged, and as his asshole gripped my cock, his own thrashed and came with a violence I hadn’t seen before. He bucked against me and I held him hard, ensuring my toy never left his ass. 

Finally he collapsed on the silk sheets, his chest heaving and his body shaking. 

I praised him. I told him I forgave him, that he was beautiful and such a good boy to let me fuck him however I wanted. That he did so well, that he looked so beautiful. I untied his binds, removed his mask, and massaged his body. He was putty in my hands, and I felt that he had more than made up for leaving me all those years ago. 

When I got up to change, he sat up, a worried look over his face as he searched for me in the dark. “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom, honey.” I put a little twang in my voice, just for the fun of it. He accepted this, flopping back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut.

Just as I closed the door I heard him whisper. “Don’t leave me, I’ll never leave you again.”

The next morning he was draped across my chest, his warm body perfectly fitting into mine. I smiled to myself, imagining all the fun we would have today, just the two of us…

He was broken in, all right. And now he was all mine.