I Shot Annie

I put my hand tenderly on her face and stroked, it, "It will be okay."

Annie relaxed.

The next day we saddled up. Annie was on Blue Boy, I was on Rebel and I was taking her out to an outer house. The original overflow bunkhouse for the seasonal workers.

Years ago I had turned it into a little art studio for me. Drawing board, easel, paints, a palate, a place to paint. I'm no Picasso, but it gives me pleasure.

"Where are we going?" Annie asked with a touch of anxiety in her voice.

"Relax, I said." "My special space. My art space. I think you will enjoy it. You can see some of my paintings. They are not very good, but they are mine.

That made her smile and relaxed her and we rode out to the bunkhouse on a beautiful day.

We arrived. The bunkhouse is a rectangular building, old style farm, bat and board, the windows were shutters closed. Everything had been locked up for a while.

I directed us to the windows and said, "Annie, we want to open a few of these and get some fresh air in here. It is going to be pretty stale and musty. Probably a bit like a horse farm. And I started going around opening shutters. Annie took the hint and started to do the same thing.

I opened the barn doors to create cross circulation, reached in, and flipped on the ceiling fans, and we chatted outside for a bit as the space aired out.

I had painted all of the walls white except one on the far side. I left that the original wood. I thought it made the room pop.

On one side was my painting, artistic space. The rest was open. A couch, table, a few comfortable chairs. A conversation grouping. And a flat-screen TV. Not one of those 70" ones, but large enough. Some would call it a man cave" but I have always loathed that term and would not.

"Wow," she said. Johnny this is great."

"Thanks, it's my special space.

I showed her some of my paintings. Landscapes. I hadn't matured enough as an artist to have people in them yet. Scenes from horse country and around the great state of Kentucky.

Annie said, "I had no idea! These are wonderful. You didn't tell me you were an artist."

"I'm not. It's a hobby."

"You are and I'm impressed."

"Thanks."

"You didn't paint in New York."

"No time and no space."

We sat down on the couch and I said, "Drink? Soft or spirits?"

"What are you pouring?"

"Dr. Pepper or Maker's Mark."

"Better make it a Maker's."

"Good," and poured two on the rocks.

We sat on the couch and toasted.

"To a fresh start," I said and clinked glasses

"To a fresh start."

And we drank silently for a while.

I leaned over and pulled Annie into me and we started to kiss and then makeout heavily. Our hands all over each other.

I looked at her and said, "Please stand up."

She did.

"Take your clothes off but leave your bra and thong on.

She did and she did.

I led her over to the wood wall where I had attached four black-iron D-rings. Two high and spread at wrist height and two below spread at ankle height.

"What the fuck?!" she gasped.

"I created this yesterday. It is where your punishment is going to occur," I stated.

"But Johnny, I told you I was sorry, that it was the biggest mistake of my life, and I'll never do it again."

I looked at her and said, "Why to you keep peeing on my head and telling me it's raining? I watch how you look at him in the corral. Your brain might be telling me the truth, but your pussy is lying."

"No! That not true."

"Shut up and stand against that and lift your hands up."

"What the fuck?!"

"Annie it is quite simple. Do as you are told or leave the ranch this afternoon. Your choice."

She did as she was told, and I rapidly secured her arms and legs.

"You have been a bad girl and I am going to punish you for that."

"Yes. I have. What are you going to do, Johnny?"

I reached up and ripped the bra and panties off and threw them on the floor. Rendering them torn and useless.

I picked up a silk whip and hit across the thighs.

"Oww. That hurts."

"Silence!" and the whip hit twice more.

She shut up.

The whip hit a few more times and I said, "Call me Sir."

She did not respond Three more whippings.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl. I am going to punish you for being a bad lover and then fuck your ass because that is what bad lovers deserve."

What?!

And I shoved an oversized vibrator up her ass making her jump in pain

"Does that hurt?" I asked.

""Fuck yes, Johnny!! Please take it out."

"Hurt like what you did to me with Hank?"

And I whipped her again.

I said, "We need a safe word."

"Huh?"

"A safe word something you say to me when it becomes too much."

"How about right now?!"

"No, that is not going to happen. Give me a safe word."

She did.

"This is a nice, light start. It is silk and won't sting in the same way the leather will later. "

And I whipped her pussy.

""Please stop," She begged.

''Why?"

"Because it is too much."

"No, it is not. Not until you cry and apologize to me and God for what you did."

My whipping started again, moving up and down her body. First the breasts, then the stomach and sides, my pussy again, and her thighs.

As I punished her I put my thumb on her clit.

I watched it. Suddenly, she entered into that trance-like euphoria of overtly intense emotions that is called "the sub-space." The instantaneous rush of endorphins and adrenalin made you feel like your was drunk, or high. The pain was gone and for some reason, your mind is dizzy with pleasure and joyful feelings.

Annie was there.

The whipping, stroking and edging continued. She bucked against my restraints but was imprisoned. And came! Screaming at the top of her lungs.

"I waited for her to return back to earth.

"We are not done yet, you know," I said.

"I do not want to and will not."

"Have you learned your lesson?"

"What lesson? I screwed up. I'm human it happens. Get over it already.

"Get over what?! You screwing Hank and it is okay? No."

"I don't want any more please."

"Okay, but you understand you must leave the ranch."

"I don't want that either, please Johnny."

"No. Not yet."

"Okay," and she hung her head.

We continued two more times until Annie finally hung her head and said, "I am really, really sorry, Johnny. I admit. I fucked Hank. It was wrong of me. I am sorry. I have learned my lesson, and I will never do anything like that again."

And she hung her head.

"Okay."

And I unstrapped her, took her into my arms, and tended to her wounds of which there were many.

"Yes, I love you, Annie."

Daddy:

I went to daddy to talk about Hank. I knocked on his home office door and let myself in.

"Daddy, may I come in and talk?"

"Of course, Johnny. Yes, of course! Come in. Sit. What do you want? I'm glad to be able to help you, again. That pleases me."

"Well, err this is difficult to talk about, actually."

"Oh come on now Johnny, you are my son, we can talk about anything."

I took him at his word, "Dad, Hank slept with Annie, my fiancé in the stables and I want you to fire him. My finance!"

"Fire Hank?!"

"Yes. To be blunt he fucked my fiancé."

"And whose fault is that?" Not Hank's!"

He looked me in the eye, hard.

"A man is supposed to hunt. That is what God and nature expect of a man. He needs to spill his seed like the bible says. It's not Hank's fault. It is her fault. The city girl. I knew she had no morals. Opening her legs for a man like Hank and you want to marry her and give her my farm. I will not fire Hank. He did what any man should do. A man is supposed to hunt pussy. We conquest! If she was a country girl, she would have said no. She would have said, 'Bless your heart." But your slut is a city girl. A city girl! She simply opened her legs to any man who approaches her. No conquest. A whore. Plain and simple. She is never going to get my ranch! Never"

That was the moment I decided to kill my father. Not then and there, but I was going to plan patricide. I was going to kill him. I had to kill him. I had no choice. I loved my dad, but he had been a shit to me my entire life and was stepping once again into my way to happiness, and this time I was not going to let that happen.

I was going to kill my father.

Our relationship with our parents is always complicated. That is how many, many shrinks earn their livings.

Mine was no different. I know there are many sons who love and adore their fathers.

And there are people in Hell who want ice water.

My father had spent my life hitting me, abusing me, and being a nasty alpha male towards me. His only son. That is why I left for New York despite the love of my ranch.

I knew the relationship between him and mother was stained and she had a lover. I was pretty sure it was the 30 year old son of the ranch next door.

I'm sure he had many too.

All I had to do was figure it out.

And it hit me! I suddenly knew how to kill my father, Hank, the walking prick in boots, was going to take the fall.

The Gun:

Hank fancied himself a marksman and a crack shot. He had a Cimarron replica Bat Masterson pearl handled, Laser Engraved Frontier 5.5".45 Colt.

He would spend hours twirling it around his fingers showing off, trying trick shots from his holster, and fast draws at a target. There were hundreds of his fired bullets in the wood siding of our stables.

He was good. Really good. Especially with the twirling tricks. And he loved that gun.

He kept it in the stables in his office. In his desk, unlocked.

We had rolled into Thanksgiving. The holiday season was always big on the ranch. Or should I say the farm since that was technique what it is. A horse farm as I've mentioned before even though everybody called it the ranch.

Two huge meals. The first, hosted by our family for all of the hands and their families made by Josie and her wonderful kitchen staff. A wonderful, and festive meal loved and appreciated by everyone.

In many ways always my favorite holiday meal since I loved how we treated everyone as family, not as employees or beneath us like so many of our friends and neighbors did with their staff and crew. The farm and the business couldn't work successfully without these folks. They were good at what they did and loyal to the family I loved them all.

Dean Martin said you can't forget the people It is the people, the fans that give you success and fame. And he never did. A working ranch is only as good as it people. Forget them. Lose your gratitude and you are in the toilet. Especially with animals.

Living creatures. We are not filling Coke bottles. Without the right personal with the horse, we were dead. We were lucky we had the right folks and happy to break bread with all of them on Thanksgiving.

Unlike our first Thanksgiving, our family Thanksgiving was catered and Josie and her staff joined us at the table along with my mother's personal assistant and my dad's, Hank as the foreman, and the rest of the house staff.

The ranch was run as a family and we were one. Thanksgiving was always a wonderful time and feast and one of the three times of the year we all could let our hair down and put the tasks of the day aside.

After all, the horses and other animals needed to be fed, but not milked like cows!

Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter.

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. It is non-religious, all about gratitude --- which I consider an important feeling since no matter your circumstances, we all have a lot to be grateful for -- and its purpose is not to celebrate The Lord Baby Jesus, but to eat, drink and generally pig out.

Great holiday.

And when I went to the bathroom to supposedly "take a leak" I went into the stable and stole Hank's gun replacing it with another Cimarron Bat Masterson I had purchased. For the two days that it was there in his desk, he would never notice.

The afternoon moved to the family room for football. Perfect, Cowboys vs. the Steelers. My dad loved the Cowboys. I hated them more than sin. The Steelers were my team and considering my plans the game could not have been better.

Everybody took sides and made bets. It was close, yet the Steelers won on a last minute field goal.

I picked up a couple of hundred, but better than that, I took it as a good sign.

I moved out to the veranda for a mint julep in the old school copper glass and a victory cigar. To my surprise, mom joined me.

"Want a mint julep," I asked knowing that she never drinks during that day.

"Yes, that would be nice. Thank you."

Surprised, I went over to the sterling silver drink cart on the porch and made her one.

I brought it over and we clinked. "To future happiness," she said."

"To future happiness!"

"Mom, I'm surprised you're having a drink before nightfall."

"Well, it's Thanksgiving, my work is done." She lifted her glass. "Cheers."

I did the same.

"Did you have a good Thanksgiving, Johnny?"

"Yes, it was great. Thanks, mom. I don't know how your and Josie outdo yourselves every year."

"Aw, honey. I wanted it to be special. We are welcoming Annie into the family and I wanted her to feel at home."

"Thanks. I wish the old man felt the same way."

"Give him some time, Johnny. You know how he is. He is never good with change and has always had the old time country versus city grudge. He can't help it. He has rebel blood flowing through him. Let me work on him. Okay?"

She put her drink down and looked at me with that "mom look." "I was hoping to have a heart-to-heart talk."

"Okay. Err, yeah. Sure. Okay. Um, what about?"

"Johnny, please pardon a mother intrusion, but is there trouble in paradise? My woman's intuition is ringing a very loud alarm."

I took a long hard sip, finish my mint julep, and moved over to make another before I sat down to answer.

"Mom, your spidey-sense has always been uncanny. How do you do it?" -- She also never seemed to get mad at anyone. Defusing fights and arguments with a cool voice, and somehow managing to convince the other party that she was right just by opening her mouth. Every single time.

She waved her hand and took a delicate sip.

"Jonathon Benton Jackson! What's going on."

"Ok," I sort of lied. Well, misdirected actually."

"I was riding the fences with dad, and he said if I marry Annie he will disinherit me and give the farm to Hank,"

"Oh, he'd never do that. He loves you and has been waiting for you to come home and take over."

"Well. He seemed pretty serious to me and I've known him my entire life! And what if he does that?"

"I won't let him."

"How? Kentucky isn't a community property state. What if he says no to you? Do you have a community property trust?"

She hung her head just a bit. " No, he won't allow that on the ranch."

"So how are you going to do that mom?"

"Johnny, I am a Southern woman. Never underestimate a Southern woman. Got that son?!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

And I gave her a nod, a clink of our glasses and we moved on to nicer things.

Thanksgiving moved into the Christmas Season, the seasons of love and giving, but there was no gifting from Annie. At least in bed. We didn't have sex for a month.

I fought back the resentment. Hell, she had cheated on me, but I still wanted to marry her and start a family. Hoping to right the ship, I decided to go big for Christmas. I gave her the biggest, matching, diamond earring, and necklace set I could find at Cartier. Annie gushed and went crazy over them as everybody oohed and aahed.

She leaned into me, put her hand on my face, and said, "These are lovely, Johnny," and gave me a warm loving kiss.

That night we fucked like bunnies.

The Cabin:

The next morning I woke up with Annie in my arms again. I was so happy. I kissed her gently as she woke up and we made sweet morning love.

"Let me make you breakfast. Bacon and eggs okay?!"

"You know it. You know, I like it over hard."

"Yes, I do in so many ways!" I winked and got up, brushed my teeth, put on a robe, and made breakfast.

Sitting at the table eating breakfast, I said, "I think we should get away and go to the cabin for the weekend."

"The cabin?"

"Yeah, the family has a hunting cabin up in the hills. We call it a cabin. By now you have finally figured out it is a house. Let's sneak up there and getaway and we can re-find ourselves. There is a lake, a boat, a hot tub we can soak in naked, and four bedrooms with four beds to try out. And the staff stocks the fridge. What do you say"

"Sounds great."

And we left.

It was a glorious day. We hiked, took the boat out, and soaked in the hot tub with white wine for an hour or so. Then we moved into one of the bedrooms to make love. Annie took off her clothes. Still, the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen.

As I said, about 5'-4" tall, with pert B-cup breasts and a tight athletic ass,

Not just B-cup breasts, the prettiest, tightest nipples I have ever seen, and an ass worthy of the cover of a "Sports Illustrated" cover. I mean world-class.

And surprisingly for a shorter woman, legs that would have knocked Busby Berkeley off his rocker. It's an old school term, but what glams! Boobs, perfect tummy, world-class ass, and model legs, Annie was fine. Really fine.

If I had to find a single word for Annie, it would be slender. Actually, what made her so amazing, is she was slender and voluptuous at the same time. All the parts fit.

And her neck. There was something about it when I looked at her as she sat beside me that I found mesmerizing and completely arousing. It was long, slender, and looking at it was an open invitation to the wonder that lay below it. I couldn't resist.

I threw her on the bed. I was already rock hard. Ripped my clothes off, spit on my hand and lubricated the head of my cock, and entered her wet and luscious pussy.

"Oh Johnny," she said as I landed balls deep. "Fuck me harder than you ever have before."

It was the best night in bed in a long time.

I also took her ass and came deep inside her.

The next day we grabbed a couple of rods and reels and went out on the lake to go fly fishing. I was teaching her how to cast a line.

"What are we fishing for?" Annie asked.

"Good question! Probably trout and catfish, but hopefully bass. Then we'll have a great dinner."

"Okay! Let's do this."

"First you have to learn how to bend the rod. Don't cast your line by moving your arm wildly. You need to load your rod. Watch me. Not like a windshield-wiper blade. More like hammering a nail into a wall."

I cast a line in a demonstration.

"See? It how the rod bends and then unloads as you stop? The way I was taught by my father is to imagine spearing an apple on the end of a stick on a tree. Don't move so fast you lose your grip and the apple falls behind you. Accelerate as you throw it and then stop abruptly to throw the apple. Got it? Watch again."

And we started to cast our lines except for when Annie was texting. Texting constantly.

"Annie! You can't text while you a fly fishing. Haven't you seen "A River Runs Through It" with Brad Pitt? Fly fishing is about quiet, the water, the rod, the fish. Give it a chance. Put down the phone and let the fishing it put you in a beta state."

"I'm sorry, Johnny. Connie is in a state. I think her marriage is breaking up. I'm just trying to help a friend in distress. Sorry."

"That's okay. I understand. But can you put the phone down please?"

She did, and we had a lovely day on the boat fishing and eating the picnic that Annie made for us. She even caught two fish a catfish and a spotted bass!

We got back to the dock and I said, "I'm going to clean these fish. We'll have a great dinner! Want to make a salad and some potato salad?"

"Sure. We can fire up the grill. Hey! Do you mind if while you do that I take a hike on my own and stroll around first? I want to check the woods out for myself. Okay?"