Page 45 of Shared on the Ranch

Chyanne’s entire body was confused. She could feel a ball of lust in the pit of her belly and her pussy pulsed with excitement. She pressed her legs together hoping to hide any evidence of her humiliating arousal.

She locked eyes with Aaron—God, they were like pools of molten chocolate. A shiver ran through her, and as though he’d seen it, the corner of his mouth lifted.

He brandished the whip, watching for a reaction.

Show no fear.She clenched her fists tighter at her sides, determined to appear just as casual as he did.

Thwack.

The flails bit into her tender skin, and her teeth dug into her bottom lip to keep from verbalizing the pain.

It stung. It ached. Itthrobbed.

And as her poor breast was punished, she couldn’t help but think of the other part of her that was throbbing, too. She knew she shouldn’t—giving into one thought led to another, and before long the hard slaps began to feel… different. Different in a way she’d never experienced before—in a way that proved that her body wasn’t the only thing confused. She was losing control of her mind, too.

Because as those wicked flails fell again, it almost felt…good. It added to the ache, it sent a pulse all the way from her breast to her womb. And she damn near tasted blood as she prevented herself from gasping.

I’m losing.She gazed into Aaron’s eyes, and she knew he knew it, too. His mouth was arched into a cocky smile that proved it.

Smack.

Her fingernails dug into her tender palms as she refused to give in.

Whack.

She squeezed her eyes shut, just barely swallowing back the cry that longed to break free. Equal parts plea and lust, it stayed trapped in her throat, but for how long?

And then there were hands behind her. Large, warm hands.

Her eyes snapped open just in time to see Aaron flick his wrist, making the whip lash out toward her. As it landed, whipping her poor, pebbled nipple, a growl lodged in her throat.

Then Chandler cupped her breast, kneading it gently between his strong, pliable fingers.

She was undone. The gentle pleasure after the punishing lashes made her unlock her mouth and moan after moan spilled forth.

Then his hand was gone, and her breast was cold for a second before the harsh flails punished it once more.

“Ahhhhggg,” she moaned, tears forming in her eyes.

Then Chandler’s fingers were back, gently stroking her tortured nipple. Were they loving? Cruel? How could she ever decide? As soon as they were removed, Aaron delivered swift, hard punishment.

“Please!” she pleaded, eyes squeezed tightly shut while her breast ached unbearably. “Please, no more.”

“Sorry, spitfire, we’ve just gotten started.”

Chyanne’s eyes snapped open, her brow furrowed and her lips turned down in a snarl as she glared daggers at him. “My name’s not—”

Before she could finish, before Aaron could even flick that horrible instrument of torture, Chandler reached over and flicked her nipple, hard.

A gasp wrenched from her and then her head was being tugged back by a firm hand on her hair. She looked up into Chandler’s earnest blue eyes. He looked impossibly stern. “I think you need to remember who’s in charge here, little girl.”

Surprised into silence by his blatant authority, she nodded meekly.

“I want to hear you say it,” he ground out.

Eyes widening, she stumbled over the words. “Y-you are, sir.”

He gave another firm, insistent tug, making her wince.

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