Prize Bull Ch. 03

"Be still, Travis!" I admonished. "It's been a week and things may be tighter than you expect." I continued talking, slowly circling his opening, which pulsed from time to time, opening and tightening in expectation of what was to come. Travis's knuckles were tight as he gripped the bar of the pen, waiting for me to give him what he wanted, what he needed. Well, he was going to have to wait.

I dropped my hands from his body, reaching over to shelf attached to the pen where I kept my supplies. I pulled out a moist wipe and, without warning or explanation, grasped his shaft and pulled back hard, spreading his piss slit open. Travis breathed in sharply, but didn't speak. He had long since learned that pleasure followed pain; in fact, pleasure often was mixed with pain. I wiped around the corona of his cock forcefully, then scrubbed the wipe deep against his slit, noticing he stayed silent even as he winced with the force of my onslaught.

Applying more lube to my fingers, I tickled my way up and down his shaft before grasping it firmly and beginning to pump him. "Does that feel good?"

"Yes, Miss Dara."

"Which feels better, when I rub you, or when you rub yourself?"

"When you do, Miss Dara."

"Would you like me to make you come you now?"

"Yesssssss." His answer came as an exhalation of breath as the waves of pleasure from my hand moving up and down his cock in a smooth rhythm moved him closer to the orgasm he had been without for a week.

"Yes, what? Tell me what you want me to do." I knew he hated this part, telling me what he wanted, but wanting it enough that he would say it anyway.

"I want you to put your finger inside me and rub that spot that feels so good. Please Miss Dara, please do it," he begged.

I stopped jacking him for a moment while I lubed up the fingers on my other hand. I still got regular manicures, but I kept the nails trimmed short and smooth at all times. What had developed between Travis and I had turned even a trip to the nail salon into a sexual experience. As I watched the manicurist shape and file my nails, I pictured them at the end of fingers wrapped around his beautiful cock or slipping into his warm dark hole, feeling my panties grow damp at the thought of it. One week I had even ruined the nail polish, pulling over before I got home then slipping my hand under my clothes and into my panties to masturbate before the paint was even dry. The paint was dry now, but every inch of my first two fingers were covered in shiny lube. I held my hand up for Travis to see. "Does that look wet enough to slide into your little bottom nicely?"

"Yes, Miss Dara, oh please, please. Please be inside me," he begged.

As I slid in a finger, eliciting a moan of satisfaction, I asked, "Did you have time to read everything I left for you?"

"Yes, Miss Dara." He could barely get the words out as I plumbed his ass, rolling across the prostate with the precision that had come from much practice.

"And do you think you can put what you read into practice?"

His head snapped to the side, looking me full in the face. It was as if the fingers in his ass and the hand on his cock were forgotten. "Oh, yes, Miss Dara. If you'll let me. I want to make you feel good like you do me."

"Settle down, Travis. Focus on what we're doing. Plan on staying tomorrow night for dinner and you can show me how much you've learned." With that, I slid a second finger into his ass, burying the both as deep as I could.

"Oh, Miss Dara. Yes, Miss Dara. Yes." Travis was one big moan as he rocked between the hand on his cock and the fingers in his ass. I wasn't even moving, just holding on as he fucked himself back onto me and then into my waiting hand. Faster and faster, he moved, his muscles straining tighter, his jaw clenched as his body told him my fingers on his prostate were the ticket to the release he was chasing, a series of animal grunts escaping him. My fingers were deep in his ass, the warm flesh of him wrapped around me and clasping me tight, the skin of his cock almost as soft but not so hot. Travis pulled one of the plastic specimen cups he always used when I stimulated him up, putting it over the end of his cock as he pushed back hard onto my fingers one last time then thrust forward, the cum making a smack as it hit the bottom of the cup and splashed back a bit.

Sometimes I was tender with him after, holding him, praising him, but tonight I left him there, holding onto the metal bar of the bull pen as he gasped for air and regained his composure. He was still standing there, his head resting against the top bar, his curly dark hair in sweaty ringlets, when I finished washing my hands and putting my supplies back in the locked cabinet. "Goodnight, Travis," I called. "I'll likely miss you by morning chores, but I'll see you tomorrow night for dinner. Take care that you do a good job!" And then I was out the door. Another 20 minutes later, I heard him shut the barn door and drive away.

The next day, I must confess, I was a bit of a mess. I knew I wanted what I had planned for that night, but my thoughts were running in circles. I managed to do a good job at the doctor's office, but my head was somewhere else entirely. I was comfortable telling Travis to do things, but having him service me was new territory. Honestly, I was worried. Would letting him bring me to orgasm change the balance of power we had established? In the end, I decided that since this was new for him, I still had an advantage. He had only read about giving a woman pleasure orally. I would still be the teacher.

I had prepared a meal I knew Travis liked: breaded chicken breasts, oven fried, with a side of quinoa and chopped vegetable salad. I rushed through my preparations: a quick shower, blow-dry of my shoulder-length brown hair, just a touch of mascara around my dark brown eyes and lipstick. I saved my time for selecting my underwear. I had silky emerald green top that perfectly matched the necklace Travis had given me and a fitted brown khaki skirt that I knew would unzip and fall to the floor easily. The outfit accentuated my breasts with the help of an underwire bra and showed that my hips and waist were still slim and supple. I pulled out a few garter belts, but decided in the end to go with a pair of lacy pink bikini panties. The lace was see-through in every spot, which I decided would be perfect for the night's activities. I had trimmed my hair closely the night before using an electric hair clipper with a blade guard—I'm not a fan of women looking like 12-year-old girls, but I do think a pleasant environment is important in these matters.

I know we talked during dinner, but I honestly can't remember a much of what we said. I was too busy thinking about what was going to come next. We cleared and washed up together, then I settled down in my favorite Morris chair while Travis stood, nervous and awkward, shifting his weight from one foot and then the other. I let him stew for a moment as I glanced at a book I had started reading earlier in the week but had gotten too busy for, before I called for him. "Come here, Travis, I want you to kneel down here by my feet."

He was there in a second, kneeling, looking up at me in anticipation, a bit like the cat that swallowed the canary. That wouldn't do at all. He needed to come down a notch or two. "Now tell me again, Travis," I began, "what it is you did with your prom date? Not what she did for you, but what you did for her."

There it was: Travis dropped his head, his smile gone, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He mumbled a bit, but didn't answer.

"I'm sorry Travis, I didn't quite catch that."

"I touched her Miss Dara, on her breasts some, and between her legs, both over and under her underpants."

"Panties," I corrected.

"What, ma'am?"

"If a woman is permitting a man the pleasure of touching her between the legs, she generally has taken the time to put on panties, not underpants. Underpants," I continued, looking him in the eye, "are white or sometimes colored, but are always cotton and quite plain and functional. Panties, on the other hand . . ." At this I stood, and reaching behind me, I unzipped my skirt and let it slide down my legs and to the floor, revealing my lacy underthings, "panties make it clear that a woman has given some thought to her appearance. So, your date, she was wearing panties, yes?"

"Yes, Miss Dara." As he said this, Travis was still on his knees, his lips now less just inches from my crotch.

"And did you make her come?"

"No, Miss Dara," Travis said with a hang-dog look and tone of voice.

"Well, you will learn to satisfy me, or you will have a consequence. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Miss Dara. I'll do my best, and I'll take my consequence if I have to."

"Very good. I will teach you what I like, and what signals a woman will give you to tell you if you are doing what she likes. But one more thing, from this moment forward, if you see my panties, even a flash of my panties, I expect you to be on your knees between my legs with your shirt off, pants on, within a minute, or there will be a punishment. Do you understand?" Travis nodded.

"Excellent." I settled back into my chair, spreading my legs slightly. Travis' eyes were glued on the patch of pink fabric between my legs. "Now, for starters, this isn't a swimming pool. You don't just dive in. Take your time to kiss my legs, my ankles, my feet, if you wish, working your way up toward my panties."

Looking down I could see Travis' cock in his uniform pants. Poking straight up, the dark pink head was almost peeking out of the waistband, which was already showing a dark spot from the wetness of his pre-cum. His hands were steady as he slid them up and down my legs, his rougher skin a contrast against my smooth flesh, but I could see a slight tremble of nervousness in his shoulders as he licked, kissed, and sucked from my feet up to my thighs. "Just fine, Travis, you're doing just fine. I just thought of one thing I need," I said, interrupting what was a very pleasant interlude. He looked up at me, confused. "The keys to the locked cabinet are on the key rack. I need you to go down to the barn and bring me back the leather riding crop from the cabinet. Make sure you lock it behind you."

Trying somewhat vainly to shove his hard form back into his pants, Travis grabbed the keys and hurried out the door. He must have run, because he arrived back at the house with the riding crop in his hand in record time and out of breath.

"Now, where were we? Oh yes, you were on your knees in front of me, admiring my panties." With a quick step, Travis was back in position. I walked around behind him, leaving pants on, but pulling the back of his uniform trousers down to expose his ass while keeping his cock trapped by the fabric. I continued to circle him until I was in front of him, sinking into the Morris chair and spreading my legs again. Once again, Travis began kissing and licking my thighs, working closer to my cunt with every passing second.

"Can I kiss you, please, Miss Dara?" Travis begged, his face still nuzzled in my thighs.

"Kiss me where, my sweet boy?" I never tired of asking him questions I knew he hated to answer.

Travis swallowed hard, his cheeks flushing red, "Between, between your legs Miss Dara. Where your panties are." His voice quavered.

"Go ahead. Let's see what you've learned." Travis kissed and licked me softly, the silky lining of my panties moving across my clit as he explored the territory. It had been so long since I had any touch there except from my own fingers or a vibrator, even his amateurish technique was enough to flood my panties with sticky wetness.

"Do you want to taste me, Travis?" He swallowed hard again and nodded. "All right then. Stand up so I can get my panties off." He stood and I noticed the wet spot on his pants had grown bigger. I grasped him through the fabric, his own slippery lubrication making the pants slide all around his cock. "You come from so many things, don't you Travis? You come when I touch you, and when I spank your bottom. I wonder if you'll come in your pants just from licking me. Keep your hands firmly on the chair." I made a bet with myself that his pants would be sticky with his cum before we were done. After sliding off my bottoms, I sat back down and slid down in the chair, allowing my legs to fall more widely apart.

Tentatively, Travis began licking me. I could tell he had paid attention to the book I'd given him. He started down at the entrance to my cunt, working his way up my slit so my own juices slid across my clit. "Oh, Miss Dara, you taste so good. I never thought anything could taste so good," he moaned into my crotch before he went back to flicking his tongue across my swelling pussy.

"That's a good boy. I can tell you studied. Now, show me how well by making me come." I laced the fingers of one hand through his hair as I spoke. But then, just as things were going so well, we hit a problem. Travis' licking was simply too rough. Maybe later, it would get the job done, but it was too soon. I used my grip on his hair to pull him up and away.

"Stop, listen, and learn. You fail this and you may not get a second chance." Tears began to form in Travis' eyes. "My clit is not a cock, so don't treat it like one. You need to slide your tongue across me, using the friction to build up sensation, not press down and flick like you were alone in bed jerking yourself off."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry ma'am. I'll do better," Travis said as tears spilled from his eyes.

"I know you will. Experienced men can tell when they are doing the right thing by the way their partner's breathing changes, or the way her muscles tense. Since you're not experienced, I'm going to use the riding crop. If you do the right thing, I'll give you a smack, sort of the way a jockey encourages his mount. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you ma'am."

Travis began again. He had clearly taken my words to heart as his tongue teased across my clit, skittering a bit as he found a rhythm of larger, then smaller, then larger circles, teasing and teasing as the blood filled my clit and it swelled out from between my lips. SMACK. I brought the riding crop down on Travis' exposed ass time and time again as he moaned his approval into my cunt. When he worked his tongue back down to my opening, sucking on the juices that were flowing from me, I gently ran the end of the riding crop between his ass cheeks, the leather rubbing up and down against his anus, reminding him of other pleasures we shared, before SMACK, I brought the crop down hard again on his ass.

Travis was moaning almost uncontrollably now, his pelvis rocking back and forth as his strokes across my clit became more forceful. I gave him the go-ahead with the smack of leather on bare skin as he began flicking my hard button of a clit back and forth, then sucking it full into his mouth before circling it again, with me egging him on with the leather crop and my own moans.

Then he found the motion, the spot, the perfect pressure, all at once. "That's it Travis, that's it. Just like that. Don't stop until I come, just do that until I come." I couldn't remember being so wet, my leg muscles tight, my ass muscles tighter as a focused on the small fire in my crotch that was waiting to burst into a flame. "Yes, yes, yes," I moaned, each yes accompanied by the swish and crack of the riding crop moving through the air until it found Travis' naked ass until the small fire burst into flame, the orgasm ripping through my body, radiating out from my cunt through every tightened muscle. I heard Travis' moaning, but from very far away, then felt the weight of his head collapse on my lap.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, but my thighs were still wet when we finally stood up. The front of Travis' pants were wetter. I had won that bet, it seemed. "Did you come, Travis?" I asked, looking him in the face.

He looked down before telling me he had. "I'm glad," I said, as I slid my hand into the waistband of his trousers and brought out my fingers slick with his juices. I lifted his chin with my free hand and made him watch as I slowly licked his cum off my fingers. "There's no rule that says only one of us can taste good. And now I have an idea for your birthday present."

"In any case, you'll need to leave those pants here for washing. Go ahead and strip them off." When he turned around, I couldn't believe what I had done. "Oh Travis, why didn't you say something?" His entire ass was a mass of red, some areas welted, some areas red and purple where blood vessels had broken under the skin. "You have to say something if it's too much. We talked about that!" I cried, even as I rushed for the drawer where I kept the healing salve I had used when I had paddled him before in the house. Finding it, I returned to where he still stood, and began rubbing the healing balm into his skin as gently as I could, knowing it would still be days until he would be himself again. "Okay, as soon as I finish this I'm going to get you some Motrin to bring the swelling down. Oh, Travis, I'm so sorry."

Travis grabbed my hand, "Miss Dara, I liked it. It hurt a lot at the end, but you were so close I didn't want to ruin our first time."

My head was swirling. I couldn't believe the damage I had done to him. He'd be lucky to sit down normally for days. "First time and last time," I shouted at him. "You can still work here if you want, but this," I kicked the riding crop across the room, "is over!"