tagNonConsent/ReluctanceA Ranch Owner's Sin

A Ranch Owner's Sin


"Chelsea, I really don't think you should be on that tractor," hissed Stacy at her drunk-as-a-sailor friend.

"Shut up, Stacy! God you're such a prude! Why don't you just go back home, I bet it's past your bedtime anyway," sneers Chelsea, her mouth forming words without her brain editing them. Dylan had just broke up with her and she'd wanted to forget the pain. So knowing everyone, or rather nearly everyone, would be at the town meeting Chelsea had gotten out her stash of alcohol she'd secretly been buying and drunk as much of it as she could by herself. Of course, just her luck, Stacy, one of the worker's daughter at the farm, just had to stop by to see if Chelsea was okay. She never wanted the goody-two-shoes to tag along but the girl did regardless.

"Chelsea! Please, you'll hurt yourself! Please, get down from there," begged Stacy watching the blonde holler as she finally mounted herself into her Daddy's tractor.

"Chelsea!" cried Stacy, horrified as Chelsea started the engine and jolted the huge machine forward. Not wanting to be flattened, Stacy leapt to the side and kept calling the spoilt girl's name until her throat was raw. Tears started flowing as she thought about how the reckless drunk girl could get hurt...but then Stacy stopped crying, it's not her fault if Chelsea gets hurt, she tried to warn her!

Chelsea felt the fresh country breeze whistle through her long honey strands, fanning it back. Wo-ho! She thought. Suddenly the tractor crashed through something. The engine began spluttering before jolting to a stop. Annoyed, Chelsea jumped down from the tractor only to have her head spin from the motion. Carrying on despite seeing double, she noticed she'd crashed through a fence. Her shoulders slumped at her ride being cut short and before she could climb back in the tractor to fix it, blackness seeped her senses and she passed out.

Her brain seemed to be trying to escape her skull with all the pounding it was doing. Bright blue eyes squinted at the piercing Texan sun and her body felt exhausted. Groaning she looked over to the bedside table to spot two Aspirin tablets and a glass of water. Gulping it all down she snuggled back in bed, facing away from the glare of the sun and succumbed to sleep.

When she awoke it was due to her father shouting her name. She sat up, feeling much better and softly padded downstairs.

"Yes Daddy?" she asks in her sweet, melodious voice.

"Oh no you don't young lady!" bellows her dad. She watched his furry eyebrows set straight and a scowl adorn his lips. He was in his usual attire of a loose plaid shirt, tucked into a pair of bootcut worn jeans, a chunky belt to hold it up, and sturdy cowboy boots on his feet. Chelsea on the other hand knew she was still in the pink tank top and blue jean shorts from last night. How she managed to get home she didn't remember-in fact she didn't remember much of last night.

"Just what in all that's good, were you thinking getting drunk and joy-riding my tractor?!" yelled her father. She'd never seen him so mad at her. He never had much reason to be. She was a good kid, who wished to be rebellious only never had the guts to be. Until she'd had the belly-full of alcohol that is.

"I-I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to," apologised Chelsea. Remembering yesterday, just brought back all the pain for why she drank in the first place. Her son-of-a-bitch ex had the nerve to dump her because she 'was a lousy fuck'. Chelsea had said to hell with that! It wasn't her fault the damn boy couldn't last more than a measly few minutes or that he just wanted to stick it in, do a few quick thrusts, explode and leave; leaving her feeling like a fucking blow-up doll. Heck, she thought, a blow-up doll would probably receive more attention than she had. And then the bastard had the nerve to dump her!

"Sorry's not going to cut it this time, Chelsea," spoke her father bringing her out of her wonderings.

"But Daddy-" she starts. What more can she do but say sorry? It's not like she can just mend the tractor. She's not a mechanic.

"No. I don't want to hear it. Besides, it's not just my property you've damaged," her father said. She looked at him confused for a moment before remembering the fence! Oh Lord! She thought, who's fence could that be?They had three neighbouring farmers and ranch owners and she waited in anticipation at who's property she'd damaged.

"The fence?"

"So you do remember that? Do you know who's fence it was you crashed my tractor through?" questioned her father only to receive a small shake of the head from his daughter.

"It was Mr Callaghan's," he stated. Chelsea's eyes went wide for a moment. When she was younger, around 15, she had the biggest crush on Brandon Callaghan. She had seen him as a hot, mascular, older gentleman and so he became perfect for her to focus her adolescent crush on. But now at 19, she didn't see much of him and expected herself over the crush. After all, he's probably around 30 now and being more mature she had no doubt that she'd only found him hot due to her fluctuating hormone levels.

"Oh gosh! I'll tell Mr Callaghan I'm sorry," gasps Chelsea.

"I told you, it's not enough...But he has made a kind offer though. His maid is away on maternity leave so he's suggesting you fill in for her to repay the cost of the damages-"

"What? No, Daddy, please! There's got to be something else!" she cries. She'd normally play the school card but she couldn't right now, not since she'd graduated and after summer she'd be going to college.

"Chelsea, I already told him you'd do it! It's about time you learned to take responsibility for your actions! Now after you've eaten something, you will go get dressed, something suitable please, and then make your way to Mr Callaghan. I will be ringing him to ensure you did go! Mr Callaghan's a fair man and has said you will receive an hour for lunch when you can come home and eat something. You will go there each morning at 8 precisely and return at 7. He will tell about the tasks he wants you to complete and you will do it! Understand?"

Chelsea sighed in defeat and mumbled a "yes dad."

"Good. And Chelsea?"

She looked up.

"If I hear even one complaint from Mr Callaghan about you, you can forget college."

Chelsea gasped about to protest only to see the steel determination in her father's eyes. She swallowed her words and went to get dressed.

The mud coated her boots as she scraped her feet along the ground. She didn't know what her Daddy meant when he said appropriate but she'd gone for blue skinny jeans and a red plaid top, tied at her navel. Her hair had dried within minutes after her shower due to the heat of the sun. Although it wasn't that bad for summer. She spotted ranch hands already busy at the broken fence on the far side and felt a stab of guilt. Still, she thought, he could have just asked her to pay it back. Not demand she be his maid!

Knocking at the door, Chelsea stood back with her hands crossed and hip cocked.

Her knees nearly buckled when she saw the man who greeted her. Holy...shit. Just like that she seemed to transform into her 15 year old self. The man before her was...gorgeous. It seemed age had not altered his handsomeness, only heightened it. He'd always been tall but even so he towered over her with his 6"2 frame to her 5"6. His shoulders were as broad as ever with his waist being slim. He had his own fair share of laugh lines from many years working under the sun with friends, but the marks only emphasised his masculinity. His lips were neither plump nor thin and were coloured a pale pink. He had a full head of soft sandy brown hair and a lighter shade of stubble over his cheeks, jaw and upper lip. Coffee brown eyes pierced down at Chelsea before he wordlessly side-stepped and let her pass. She caught a faint whiff of aftershave sliding by and gulped, knowing she'd have to stop herself being a fumbling, mumbling mess.

"This way. Take your shoes off," he grunted already heading down the hallway. Chelsea hurried to grasp her feet out of her boots and once doing so she rushed behind him.

On their own accord, her eyes travelled south of his body to focus in on a cute ass. Alas the jeans bagged and she could not see the shape of them.

So captivated by him, Chelsea didn't realise the room she'd walked into was pitch black until the door slammed shut and two large, rough hands drew her in. She let out a shrill cry of surprise until one of the hands clamped over her mouth.

"Shh," whispered a familiar voice, "don't scream," it then whispers before releasing her mouth.

"Mr Callaghan, what's going on?" breathes Chelsea wondering if there was a robber or something. Suddenly she was drawn further back into his body only to feel solid, hard parts of him that had her heart beating louder.

"Chelsea...oh sweet, little Chelsea. My, my, you certainly have grown," teased the man, his tongue flickering at her neck.

"Mr Callaghan, please, let go of me," softly said Chelsea tugging at his strong hold.

"You've definitely filled out..." he continues ignoring her protest. His hand move up her body to cup her breasts.

"These are certainly bigger than I remember...tell me, what size are you, sweet Chelsea?" he teased groping and squeezing the mounds through her shirt and bra. Chelsea's heart thudded a little faster and her breathing picked up. Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! She panicked. Sure she thought the guy was hot, but she never wanted this! She liked to admire him. She doesn't want to actually do anything with him!

"Tell me," he warned roughly squeezing her breasts.

"Ah!" gasped Chelsea before answering him, "34D."

"Very nice," he purred in appreciation.

"You've also filled out nicely down here," he said running his hands down the side of her body to rest at her hips, one hand reached her ass and squeezed.

"Mmm..." softly moaned Brandon running his nose up the column of her neck before placing a small kiss at the base of her ear.

"I look forward to playing with you, my pretty toy," he whispered in her ear before pulling away.

Chelsea wanted to protest at being called a 'toy' and felt angry by his wandering hands and words but suppressed it all. She'd felt too much fear. She was scared by him.

He switched on the lights and returned to his no-nonsense, business mode. Chelsea stood there still paralysed by terror when he instructed her to sit down.

She realised they were in his living room and quickly shuffled to perch on one of the leather couches. Brandon took a seat in the one opposite her. She gazed up at him and his stiff posture. His once lustfully body, now just frightened her. Chelsea had been groped before but only by teenage boys. Boys she could easily just throw a punch at or kick in the balls and slap...but she knew deep in her she could never beat Brandon. With his hard-earned, rippling muscles and quick eyes, she'd never be able to fend him off if he attacked and from his whispered words it seemed he intended to do a lot of groping.

"I'm sure your father has told you that you are to be my maid for the next two months while Lucinda is on maternity leave. After I have gone over your tasks to be completed you may set about your duties. I work on the ranch so you will most definitely find yourself alone in the house a lot of the time. The doors that are locked, needless to say should not be entered, the same goes for the basement. I'm sure I don't have to tell you not to steal from me, the consequences would be dire..." he sardonically grinned, a grin that caused shivers of fright down Chelsea's spine.

"Now, your duties..."

By sunset Chelsea was exhausted. The huge house took some effort to keep clean and she wondered how 1 maid could do it all! But at 7 precisely she waited in the foyer to be dismissed.

Brandon arrived a short while later carrying a plastic bag.

"Inside there is your uniform. One I expect you to wear when working here. You may change into it when you arrive and change out when you leave. I expect you to keep it clean and wear only the contents in that bag. I will not tolerate alterations or 'accessorising'. Now you may leave."

Before she could say a word the man just turned his back on her and strode away. Fumes were almost coming out of Chelsea's ears from such rudeness but she managed to slip out of the house before cursing him all the way back home.

The next morning at 7 in the morning her father came to wake her.

"Please, Daddy, please, don't make me go back there," she pleaded having pondered over yesterday and shuddering in disgust at being groped. The nightmare had replayed itself again and again, causing fear to spread through Chelsea.

"I told you Chelsea, you are doing this!-"

"But Daddy please! I'll do anything else! Anything! I just don't want to work with Mr Callaghan...he scares me."

Her father just chuckled.

"Oh princess, you don't need to be scared of Brandon. The boy's just all business when it comes to his ranch. His father died when he was young and the poor boy had to take it on all by himself. Now, this is the only proposal Brandon's willing to accept in compensation for the fence, and I'll be damned if I owe anybody anything, and as my daughter you are going to see to your obligations, got it?"

Chelsea sighed softly.

"Got it."

"You've remembered your uniform. Well done. You may change in there."

Chelsea nodded and slinked into the en suite bathroom. She hadn't looked inside the bag yet and now she wished she had. Taking the contents out dread filled her as she saw it all.

Brandon was knelt against the bedpost waiting for his toy to enter. She surprised him though by poking her head out first.

"Mr Ca-Callaghan?" she nervously called.

"Yes doll?"

"I-I um think it's the wrong size."

"Get out here and let me see."

Chelsea dropped her head in embarrassment and shame before lightly tip-toeing her way to him. Surely, he'd see the uniform wasn't right, she reasoned. For one, the twin layered skirts were too short on it. The frills and tightness of the dress was inappropriate and then the bust of the dress cut way too low. If she wasn't careful peaks of her navy lace bra could be seen. Last was the frill collar thing. The whole thing looked a mess, she just knew it! And worse still she felt like she was on the set of a porno not working as a maid.

"It's fine," declared Brandon having circled around the nervous girl. Then he remembered the silk tie in his pocket.

"Well almost," he then whispered coming up behind her. Chelsea stood a little straighter, frozen in fear and awaiting his assaulting hands.

Sure enough he started with smoothing her hair back. Then reaching for the tie in his pocket he wrapped it around her mouth.

"Open your mouth," he commanded and when she does he lodges it firmly between her parted lips before tying firmly at the back of her head.

"That's better...I don't know why you were complaining doll. This looks perfect on you. It certainly shows off those nice, round, breasts of your's," he breathed one hand running over one breast before he pried down the dress along with the cup of her bra. And then repeated with the other. Her tits burst open at the freedom but Chelsea only felt scared.

"Very pretty-"

Chelsea struggled in his grip unable to speak but only to mumble. Brandon just chuckled and took a breast in each hand.

"Don't act like you don't like me touching you doll-"

Chelsea screamed her distraught over the tie, trying again to push his hands away. But like she'd thought she couldn't fight a strong man like him.

"Oh please. I know you like me, little girl. You think I didn't see all those times you'd stare at me? All those cookies you used to bake for me? And what about that pretty pink blush at your cheeks when you look at me? You know what I think? I think..." he whispered pinching her nipples this time, "I think you damaged my fence on purpose."

She shook her head, mumbling over the tie in denial, but he only softly laughed whilst rolling her buds with his fingers. As much as Chelsea wanted to deny her natural body's reaction to it, she couldn't, so she remained ignorant to it.

"Look your body seems to like me," proudly stated Brandon feeling the nipples rock hard beneath his touch. Still his toy denied it so he had to make sure.

"Okay well let's check with the judge then, shall we?" he grinned. One hand clamped at her waist again for restraint and the other trailed along her inner thighs. She quickly clamped her legs together but when he bit at her shoulder she couldn't help but squeal and reopen her legs. He seized the oppertunity to slip his hand into her lace panties and slide his fingers down her pussy lips.

"Well, well, you're soaking wet, doll," he smirked.

All she could do was choke out a few sobs with tears trailing down her cheeks.

Once again Brandon pulled away and got into his cold business facade.

"Put your tits away and stop crying. This morning you'll go about your morning duties then this afternoon, we'll have some fun. The tie is to remain around your mouth all of this morning. Now go," coldly directed Brandon watching her scuttle away. He couldn't wait for the afternoon.

Chelsea nervously tugged at the skirt waiting in the foyer for Brandon. She'd gone home for lunch and changed back into her uniform as soon as she arrived back. But she wasn't sure what to do with the gag so it was just in her hand for the time being.

"This way doll," said Brandon leading her down some stairs in a dark room. Realising it was the basement she wondered what he'd do to her and when the lights turned on, she got a pretty good idea.

"No! No! No, let me go! I won't do it! Let me go!" she wailed trying to make a dash for the stairs and back out the door but he caught her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder. She pounded on his thick back screaming her protest but he only took her to the wire frame bed and dropped her on the mattress. Attaching her to the cuffs and binds he'd prepared earlier for her, he secured her to the bed rails before staking back.

"You can't do this to me! You can't! I'll tell my Daddy! I'll-I'll tell the whole town! I'll get you arrested for this!" she screamed thrashing against her binds. Brandon only chuckled and stroked at her shins.

"Go ahead, try. But your Daddy knows you've got a crush on me. I'll just tell him you got upset because I wouldn't play to your advances. I'll tell the whole town that. And who do you think they'll believe? A horny teenage girl who got drunk and took her daddy's tractor for a joy-ride, or me? The ranch owner who's family's been here since the birth of the town and to this day has not caused one ounce of trouble?"

Chelsea quietened hearing his words. He's right. No one would believe her! She swept her eyes over the room again, taking in the one side filled with various weapons it seemed and the rest of the area was pretty open except for the bed she was tied to.

"Please, please don't...Please you can't," she sobbed the futility of the situation finally getting to her.

"Can't?! I can do anything I want to you pet. You're mine from 8am to 7pm. I can do whatever I like to you," he sneered, gripping the back of her dress and loosening it.

"For example, if I want to undress you, I could do that," he told her unbinding one wrist to loop her hands over the dress and her bra strap before binding it back up and repeating with the other hand.

Then with one swoop he had pulled the dress clean off her body. Now laid bare with just the frill collar and her lacy undergarments, she felt scared and uncomfortable.

"Why are you doing this to me?!" she screamed at him, tears still rushing down her cheeks. Brandon's hands hesitated for a moment at her back before he replied with, "because I want to."

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