Four Tamings: A Novel of Erotic Domination

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

After Christina's narcissistic father more or less disappeared from her life, her world settled into a routine of intensive schooling, both at selected private schools and by individual instructors. She lived on the Woodside estate during the weeks, and was flown with her Mama and Nana by the family helicopter down to Hidden Valley on the weekends. There, she was taught all that needed to be known to run the ranch, as well as receiving world-class instruction in all of the equestrian disciplines. This had become the usual rhythm for the Hidalgo family by the 1980's, since their primary business interests were in the burgeoning computer and biotech industries of Silicon Valley. The fact that all of the offspring for over a century had undergraduate degrees as well as MBAs from Stanford naturally put them at the center of the developing technologies that emerged from that institution. This meant that economically, at least, the Rancho Arroyo Escondido was financially irrelevant to the family fortunes, and in fact, was carried as a loss on the books. Indeed, many of the male offspring elected not to travel down to the ranch once they had the option. But anyone in line to be the Matriarch could expect to board the helicopter every Friday that weather permitted, returning on Sunday evening both exhausted and refreshed.

Their instructor in horsemanship was also a role that was carefully cultivated by the Matriarchs and passed down from generation to generation with painstaking instruction from each retiring teacher to his successor. This job was always assigned to a man, and never of the family, since from Mamacita onward the Hidalgo women secretly mistrusted the handsome but too often dissolute men of their lineage for any important roles. The Foreman, as he was always called, occupied a position of absolute authority over the Ranch, and was answerable only to the Matriarch. Hiring and firing decisions were his alone, as were purchases and sales of livestock. As well, each Matriarch left the discipline of her daughters in his hands, at least as it involved any issues regarding horsemanship or the other Ranch duties that they were always assigned by him.

Mamacita had believed that her successors needed to know every job in their domain by first hand experience, so Christina found herself with at least one afternoon each weekend, and more in the summers, of chores assigned carefully to suit her age and maturity. These were often difficult and frustrating, chosen to stretch the limits of each future Matriarch as much as she could tolerate. And when the normally well-behaved blonde gave vent to her frustration in an uncharacteristic display of insolence, she discovered that Nana was not the only employee empowered to administer corporal punishment. The mortified young lady found herself bent over the Foreman's rock-hard knee so fast her head was swimming. In a flash her Levis and underpanties were around her knees and she was sharply bent double, her bottom cheeks mortifyingly naked to his implacable gaze. His leathery palm then proceeded to administer a fearsome spanking to her naked buttocks, whose rosy color rapidly deepened to a near purple by the ferocity of his assault. The powerful old man spanked far harder than Nana, even though she always used an implement to deliver her own behavioral messages to the very same squirming rear end. As you can imagine, the need to sit a saddle the rest of the day drove home the lesson doubly. Not a minute went by during which the penitent girl was not reminded by her tender rear end's contact with the hard leather of the saddle, even through her panties and Levis.

When the chastened girl and her doting Mama were having their customary cuddle and story time that evening, Christina recounted her backside's adventures. Estela stroked her ashamed daughter tenderly, and replied: ‘The Foreman knows his work very well, dear one, and only gives us as much punishment as we need to help us be better people, just like your Nana. I'm sure you'll take his lesson to heart, and not repeat the same mistake.’ And indeed, though the Foreman only chastised her naked buttocks this once when she was his student, the lesson drilled into her backside held steady until she was an adult. Then the further amendments that form part of our story turned out to be required.

The Foreman that administered Christina's only spanking by a man during her girlhood was nearing the end of his career at the time he turned our heroine over his knee. Several years later, a disturbingly handsome young man was selected by Estela to take over that key role. The transition involved a five-year apprenticeship under his predecessor during which the intricacies of this unique job were carefully passed on to yet another generation. Rafael Fernandez was a transplant from Texas where he had assistant managed a spread even larger than the Ranch with glowing reviews from all concerned. He arrived for his final interview with Estela with considerable doubts about how well his own ideas about the mastery of horses and people would play in what he imagined to be the liberal hotbed of California. But as it turned out, his disturbingly pretty new potential employer (whose husband seemed nowhere in sight) seemed to share his own rather old-fashioned ideas about such things. He was hired on the spot, and promoted when Christina was a teenager after his predecessor's retirement.

The Foreman of the Ranch was automatically slotted into the local equestrian community, which was no easy matter to break into for outsiders. But if he passed muster, this meant an officership in the local Mounted Patrol, an adjunct of the County Sheriff's Department that conducted search and rescue operations in the rugged back country. Of course, their wives contended that their real main purpose was demonstrating pretty horsemanship and showing off their cowboy bling in local parades. Rafe was immediately welcomed by the Sheriff and local Judge, both of whom were leaders in the organization. They found the tall, well-built young man to be cut from the same cloth as themselves: conservative, hard-working men who respected authority and felt rather strongly about those who did not. The fact that his predecessor gave him high marks for his entire apprenticeship didn't hurt, and Rafe was proud to become a Lieutenant in the Patrol in tandem with becoming the Foreman. He was well aware that the two roles placed him in the very upper echelon of local power, and was secretly proud to have been affirmed in this way.

Rafe had been educated in modern agriculture at Texas A & M, after which he had served with distinction in the Special Forces in Iraq. There he had been an intelligence officer, using cutting edge IT techniques to try to stay one step ahead of the jihadis in the never ending cat and mouse game of counter-insurgency. His searching intelligence leant itself well to that work, and while in the service he also found an unexpected bonus that spectacularly enhanced his private life. It seemed that there was a coterie of women, some young and some approaching middle age, who greatly enjoyed subjecting their bent and bared bottoms to the punitive (and, of course, eventual erotic) attentions of handsome, dominant servicemen like Rafe.

A buddy sensed that the future Foreman might be the sort of man who would warm to such activities, and an introduction was made when he was home on leave. The young soldier was fascinated to discover that his darker side could find a totally consensual outlet with a surprisingly attractive and even more shockingly avid woman ten years older than him. She moaned in anticipatory pleasure as he raised her skirt and lowered her panties to reveal a fulsome feminine pair of dimpled nether moons. Their intriguing pallor his hard hand rapidly changed to a nice rosy cerise. The s*x they had after her spanking was sizzling hot, and a budding dom was born. She told her friends in the b**m scene about her handsome new Green Beret find, and soon his leave time was delightfully spiced by more kinky s*x than he knew what to do with.

Less fortunately, once Rafe left the service to take the assistant manager's job on the vast West Texas spread, he lost touch for a time with the b**m world that was so accessible surrounding military bases. There was no shortage of attractive young women more than happy to spread their legs for a handsome young man who was clearly going places. But to his disappointment, our hero had lost his zest for what the b**m scene termed 'vanilla' s*x. When he hinted to several of his wilder partners that bad girls like them might benefit from a bit of intense attention to their bottoms, they looked at him like he was some kind of psycho, and he quickly dropped the issue.

But the bottom line, so to speak, for the new Foreman at Rancho Arroyo Escondido was that he hadn't had any s*x that was more than perfunctorily enjoyable for a few years. Then the same buddy who had initiated him into b**m mustered out of the service and took a security job less than a hundred miles away. Within weeks, Rafe was accompanying his oldest and closest friend Jack to San Francisco, where they both visited a very private club for aficionados of painful pleasures. There the gorgeous young Foreman and his even more massively muscled blonde friend became mainstays among the dominant males. It seemed that the two men shared an insistence that their submissive partners always experience the extremes of erotic pleasure as the climax (so to say) of any painful scene. This was quite endearing to the avid coterie of attractive women of all ages willing to subject their bottoms to just the sorts of painful attention the two men adored giving.

But down at the Ranch, it was bachelor living or vanilla s*x alone for the handsome young Latino, who channeled his erotic frustration into killer workouts that made him even more hunky. Then this state of affairs (or the lack thereof) changed in an almost unimaginable way, and totally unexpectedly. Rafe was just finishing up a Mounted Patrol meeting when the Sheriff and Judge drew him aside and asked him to wait around until the rest of the members had departed. The Sheriff looked uncomfortable for the first time in their six year friendship as he muttered: ‘Rafe, I've got a god-damned mess on my hands, and I think you may be the man to help me out. You know Emily and I always wanted kids, but it never worked out for us. So her sister's kid, my niece Nicole, sort of became the daughter we never had...spent most summers with us growing up, that sort of thing. Well, as a teenager, she fell in with the wrong crowd, and one thing has led to another down a very dark pathway as she enters her twenties. She came to visit a month ago, and broke up with her girlfriend over the phone, since trying on the lesbian lifestyle is her latest little shenanigan. Then she got picked up by one of my deputies totally drunk and tweaked out on speed after totaling my wife's car. She's sobered up in jail, and is all contrite and willing to do anything not to go to prison, just as she has every other time when we've ponied up for rehab. I think she needs a different kind of rehabilitation, and I've watched you gentle the wildest horses in an almost magical way. She claims she'll go along with any kind of behavior modification program, and it seems to me that the Ranch might be isolated enough that she won't be able to make a connection with a pusher. The Judge here is ready to divert her sentence if you'd take this on, or else he's got to send her to State Prison since this is her fifth strike on DUI alone. What do you say?’

Rafe had often wondered if some of his ideas about corporal punishment might be usefully carried over to the treatment of wayward young people. He had never met Nicole, but had seen her pictures up on the wall at the Sheriff's home, and she was an absolute knockout--a fiery redhead like her Uncle with the voluptuous body of an Irish country girl, fitting with her family heritage. Her father had apparently been from the old country, where he had learned to drink and charm pretty women in approximately equal measure, while never finding a way to prioritize actually holding a job. The thought of having carte blanche to try out his rather kinky theories on such a tempestuous beauty excited the handsome Foreman greatly, though he was careful not to show it.

Instead, he took a moment to ponder the request, and replied: ‘Damn, I'm sorry to hear about this, Sheriff. I'd be happy to help, but I'd need to okay it with my Boss, and I'd need to meet Nicole and see if she's truly willing to go along with my program once she understands exactly what that entails.’ The two older men gladly agreed with these conditions, and a meeting was arranged at the jail in the county seat. Rafe was led into an interview room, and soon a slender young woman who seemed to be in her mid twenties dressed in an orange prison jump suit was led into the room and took a seat across a small table. She was indeed a stunning beauty, with dark red hair shading into auburn, and enormous blue eyes in a pretty, overtly contrite Irish face. She looked far thinner in the jumpsuit than she had in the family portrait he'd seen, which made sense if she'd been tweaking. She looked at him imploringly and gabbled: ‘Please, Sir, I'll do anything, submit to any discipline, do any work you want, if you'll give me a chance!’

Rafe looked at her squarely and replied: ‘Well, we'll see about that, young lady. My understanding is that even the Betty Ford couldn't straighten you out. So I'd be employing far different methods than they did, and it would involve you submitting to a different sort of behavioral therapy. I've learned from many years of breaking horses that they need to be shown in no uncertain terms who's in control, and that needs to happen physically. So if you chose to accept release into my custody, it would mean that you willingly agreed to submit to corporal punishment whenever and however I deemed it appropriate. What do you think about that?’

Nicole had some experience with being spanked, as her father had believed that sparing the rod spoiled the child. But he had been around for only the first eight years of her life, and it had been confusing to her that too often when he had perhaps had a few too many drinks she seemed to end up over his knee having her bottom painfully warmed. Her mother had stopped all such behaviors once her Dad had fled back to Ireland to escape a check kiting charge that he knew was about to be filed by the DA. Her memories of being spanked was that it hurt horribly but that there was also some kind of secret benefit in getting to be close to her Dad and getting his full attention (which rarely otherwise came her way).

And now this gorgeous man not all that much older than her was apparently offering to bust her out of jail if she let him spank her. Well, no matter how much that might hurt, it was hard for the desperate young addict to see a good reason to look this gift horse in the mouth. So she looked into Rafe's ironic grey eyes and said with all the sincerity she could muster: ‘I'll gladly let you do anything to me that you think I need to help me get better, Sir. I promise to be good and try really hard, and to take my medicine like a big girl if I fuck...I mean mess...up. Just please give me a chance, and I'll prove that this time I'll make it work!’