The Trouble with Cowgirls


cowgirl trouble2Jake Harmon swung the horse around and scanned the horizon. It wasn’t a very big column of smoke but it was definitely in the vicinity of the ranch and he felt sick. There hadn’t been any Indian trouble in these parts for years and besides he hadn’t heard any shots, but all the same he was crushed with dread.

Amy was no great shakes as a shot and he hadn’t let that brat Sarah near a gun. He knew Emma could shoot well enough; he had caught her with his rifle over at Bear Creek the previous summer. That day he had whaled the tar out of the youngest for it but he had to admit that she was quite good.

The trouble was, he had the rifle. He patted the stock for some reassurance and then broke into a gallop.

On occasions like this he wished he was leaner. The years hadn’t been kind and his solid muscle, so useful for ranch work, did sometimes slow him down. Not that he was old, but at 36 he was a good five years older than Amy and lucky to have her.

What he wasn’t so lucky to have were the girls. Amy called them cousins, but they weren’t really kin. However his wife had grown up with them and when their folks had died she had moved from the role of big sister to more like a mother.

Both girls were a handful with not a hatful of horse sense between them. Sarah at near 21 was a brat and a half; just itching to fly the nest. Emma having just turned 18 was in some ways still a kid. She even swung by the prairie school when she had a mind to, and took a licking when she didn’t. She never seemed to resent it overmuch. Jake remembered her saying ‘a spanking was just an occupational hazard of being a kid.’ Still he wished that she would prank less and grow-up some. That darn girl never seemed to know when to stop.

Before he reached the house and stockade the smoke had seemed to dwindle and it eased his mind some, but he wasn’t satisfied until he broke the ridge and looked down. From the crest he could see Amy beating at some smouldering straw with a horse blanket and the other two were dashing back and forth with buckets. There was still smoke wafting from the barn but with no apparent damage he eased back and walked his horse in.

“What happened?” he called out once he reached the picket.

Amy mopped her brow and kicked at the last of the ashes. She was a handsome woman with long raven hair piled on her head to reveal her delicate neck. Not that she was slightly built, at a spit over average she was a curvaceous women with full curves and dark smiling eyes that spoke of words unsaid.

“These damn girls,” she growled, “I don’t know where the hell they got tobacco from anyway.”

“They were smoking?” Jake gasped.

“In the barn,” Amy said sourly and shot a glare at both younger women.

Jake wheeled his horse and let it dance eagerly as he too eyed the girls. Then he dropped from the saddle and took a towering stance before them and folded his arms.

Sarah glared back at him for a moment before her face collapsed in a pout and her deep sapphire eyes dropped to find the ground. Emma was already looking rather sheepish and was biting her lip. One blonde curl, not as golden as her sister’s, dangled across her forehead as if lost adding to a general look of almost tomboyish dishevelment that often clung to the girl.

“Where the hell did you get tobacco?” Jake snarled.

“I only had a bit,” Sarah protested, “It was Emma.”

Half way between cheeky and apprehensively embarrassed, the younger girl stifled a laugh and tentatively offered him a wincey smile as if her teeth were teasing beans in the hopes of not breaking their tender skins. Although it might have been another skin she was thinking off.

“You gonna spank us?” she carefully ventured.

“A spanking!” Amy exclaimed, “They nearly burned down the barn, they were smoking for darn’s sake. I hope you are going to do more than just spank ‘em. You darn well ought to switch them 10 ways ’til Sunday and… and… heck you ought to raise welts like worms as thick as my thumb. If they can sit down come church time then Jake Harmon you ain’t no man of this house,” she went on spitting with rage.

“You can’t spank me, I’m 21… well damn near,” Sarah said indignantly, “As for a switching… it was all Emma’s fault.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. He hated women cussing, but he was pleased to see Emma duck her head and take the blame without complaint.

“You ain’t 21 yet and besides you should know better,” Jake drawled, reserving the bulk of his ire for the elder sister. “Smoking is enough to get you a bottom blistering by itself, but the barn… you… you… Christ alive, I almost expect this from Emma, but you.”

“Please Jake, it was all my fault,” Emma put in. Her voice had a quaver with a sad tone mirrored in her eyes.

“Yes well…” Jake growled, “Don’t think I have forgotten you so don’t make those cow eyes at me. Come here.”

Jake seized the girl’s arm and tugging her over to an unburnt hay bale he tossed across his lap and rucked up her skirts and petticoats. Her draws opened at her hip with a string, once tugged they slid over her hips and down her pale white thighs easily enough. Resigned to her fate Emma even raised herself up some to allow the operation, not that she didn’t feel a head rush as her creamy bare bottom was exposed to Jake’s gaze, even her ears burned from the shame.

Jake swatted her tail hard for a score of swats, placing a sharp sting there as he drew some healthy yelps. In short order the once white behind turned sharp pink and then a deeper red. Then spying a short handled horse brush at his feet he snatched it up and lay a sounder thwack to her seat with the flat side.

“Nyah,” Emma squealed and kicked her legs in redoubled distress.

The brush spanked down a dozen times and then again with a biting efficiency that even had the hardened Emma bawling for pity. By then her bottom had transcended mere red and between burgundy blotches it had an almost purple hue.

Amy watched the action with a satisfaction usually reserved for haggling at the market and she pursed her lips to obscure her smirk.
Sarah stood bug eyed with her hand pressed to her mouth. There was something primeval, if not actually thrilling about the scene and even the vague suggestion that she was next couldn’t quell it. And vague prospect it was for at nigh on 21 she was certain Jake’s threats had been empty. Besides, it was all Emma’s fault.

Emma had been spanked too often to care what entertainment value she was giving, all she knew was that her bottom was a blaze and there was nothing, but nothing she wouldn’t do to make it stop.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please Jake,” she sobbed. She took comfort from the words and even from the futility of them as she endured the cleansing pain.

Jake spanked her soundly for a good while yet. He knew that the art of a good spanking was that it should not truly begin until the spanked one wanted it to stop; else there was little point to it at all.

“This is for smoking,” Jake told her, “You hear me?”

“Yes Sir,” Emma wailed.

“You still got something for hazarding the barn, you hear?” he continued.

“Sir, yes Sir,” Emma bawled.

By then of course Emma’s bottom held two purple pads of blistered welts, rubbery and raised at the cleft and curves. She was also a broken mess of sobbing regret.

Jake let her slid to the floor where she clawed at her hind parts and shook the ache out of his arm.

“I want that pretty nose of yours touching the barn wall with both your hands firmly on your head,” he said with an edge.

Miserably and slowly, Emma obeyed, remembering of course to fix her skirts at her hip in a knot so as to leave her bare bottom cooling in the breeze.

“Now you,” Jake told Sarah.

“No come on, Jake, you c-can’t,” she whined.

As Jake took her hand she dug in her heels and tried to pull away. But it was easy enough to haul her up and dump her without regard face down across his lap. Then with only slightly more difficulty than he had with Emma, he rucked up her skirts and dragged her draws down the same.

Sarah’s bottom was less chubby than Emma’s, but was prominently well-defined with dimples above her deep-set cleft.

“Amy don’t let him,” Sarah wailed.

Jake snorted derisively and shot a glance at his wife who just shrugged. Then again taking up the brush and swatted it against Sarah’s proffered bottom.

“Yiii omigosh,” Sarah squealed.

In Jake’s view Sarah didn’t get spanked half enough, not that it seemed to matter to her, she did take on so during every spanking. But undeterred, Jake brought his arm down again and again with a biting thwack that ricocheted off the barn walls until sounded like they were under a volley of pistol shots.

“Lemmy up,” she squealed , her legs kicking wildly, “You can’t do this…” she continued to wail and bleat on into something like boo-hoo.

As the spanking went on her bottom went a brighter shade of red than her sister and despite her cries, it more firmly resisted the assault. In any case in Jake’s mind she was the more culpable of the two and coupled with her seemingly unrepentant attitude she was far more needful of a good sound spanking. Determined to make sure she had it, he spanked her for some minutes beyond what Emma got until she too was sobbing out regrets and utterly defeated.

“Don’t think I am done with either of you,” Jake snarled as he spanked on.

“That’s the way,” Amy said with grim satisfaction hanging on every word, “You both need a good leathering as well as the switch.”

On this occasion Jake was of like mind but by this time the sun was low and although the chill might have been welcome on the girl’s naked behinds, he decided that the family should retire to the house.

“Alright, we’ll continue this discussion tomorrow,” he said bringing the spanking to a halt.

Sarah tumbled into a heap of tears at his feet and immediately regretted the contact her bottom made with the ground.

“Ooh, she squealed and grabbed at her behind.

“There is a corner for both of you up at the house,” Jake sighed, “I suggest you get your tender tails and noses correctly positioned before I get there or else you’ll get another hiney dusting instead of your supper.”

As the two girls scurried away, two naked smouldering bottoms bobbing in the twilight and Amy glowered after them. If she had her way they would go to bed without supper. She was still watching after them when Jake came alongside her and put his arm around her waist. With a grin he nodded his head in the direction of the fleeing girls and shrugged.

Amy chuckled dryly and rolled up her eyes. Another chore handled, she supposed, then she sighed and looked about her.

Where the sun had disappeared the sky had come alive in a blaze and already the early stars were breaking through the deep dark blue. The cattle too mooed and lowed around them, shuffling six dozen sets of hooves as they set for the night. For Amy with her man beside her it was the sights and sounds of home.

“Come on, you can fix supper and the girls can take theirs off the mantle,” Jake chuckled.

Amy dropped her head to his shoulder and cuddled in hard as arm in arm they ambled towards the house. Then looking back at the barn Jake to make sure everything was indeed okay he remembered something.

“I have to see to the horse,” he groaned.

“I’ll do it, you check the barn one last time for any lingering sparks,” Amy said with a final squeeze of her man.

By the time they finally got to the house both young women were standing in opposite corners of the kitchen-parlour with their skirts duly plied into the small of their backs. Emma was standing dutifully and meekly at the furthest point from the door trying to be as small as possible. Sarah on the overhand was sobbing copious hard-done-by tears and making little shadow stomps with her feet as she loudly sniffed.

No one spoke as Amy busied herself with the supper and Jake sat thoughtfully in a chair watching her. If the girls had hoped to escape their penitent vigil anytime soon, then disappointment awaited them. For despite their variously meek and snivelling presence the rancher had put them from his mind as he pondered something.

“Amy,” Jake asked carefully, “Tell me again about how you discovered the girls smoking?”

Amy had just been placing the first of the food on the table and she stopped to frown. She shrugged. “I was out in the barn looking for something when I heard them out back,” she said.

“So they weren’t in the barn?” Jake pressed her.

“Well just… you know by the side back door. They must have dropped a lit one just inside.” Amy was frowning. It had been all settled hadn’t it?

“What about the storm lamp?” Jake said casually.

Amy’s nose wrinkled up as if she was puzzling at some forgotten thing.

“I-I took it out to the barn… you know, with the late afternoon sun it gets dark some out in there.” Amy suddenly felt her tummy tighten. She was missing something and there was something about Jake’s demeanour that seemed worryingly familiar.

“So you had a lit lamp when you discovered the girls?” Jake said sharply.

“I…” Amy couldn’t remember. She had seen the smoke and heard giggling… then…? But the smoke had been from a drag and had drifted high. There had been no fire at that point, had there? She shook her head and shrugged.

“The fire was over by the tack boxes. It had been started by the storm lamp,” Jake explained. “Looks as if it had fallen off one of the crates; maybe set down carelessly while someone dashed off to attend to something urgent.”

Amy felt sick and the heat rose straight to her face. Then she swallowed. The girls too had heard. Sarah stopped her sniffing and Emma risked a look over her shoulder.

“Did you know that the fire was your fault?” Jake asked in a slow firm voice.

“No I… it wasn’t… I mean they were smoking,” Amy whined. “I just didn’t think.”

“No, I guess not,” Jake sighed. “Girls, I guess you have been spanked enough on account of the smoking. It seems I have another culprit for the barn fire. Girls, get to bed.”

“But… Jake? What about our suppers?” Emma asked.

Sarah had been about to round on Jake and Amy for getting a spanking, but she figured they were still mad about the tobacco and perhaps she should quit while she was ahead. She hadn’t been looking forward to eating super of the mantle in any case.

“Take it to bed with you,” Jake snapped.

The two women didn’t need telling twice and after snatching a plate and some bread they skedaddled up the ladder to the loft where they usually slept.

“Jake?” Amy said uneasily, “Why are you looking at me like that? It wasn’t my fault.”

Jake slowly got to his feet and turned around the chair. Then shucking off his coat he cross the room to take up a bath-brush hanging by the hearth. It was usual to bathe before the fire in winter and the only tub was a tin one hanging out back. Once in his hand he patted it firmly and then crooked his finger in a summons to his wife.

“Y-you can’t, Jake, please, the girls,” she said pleadingly as she backed away.

“Oh I think I can,” Jake growled. “For being so careless and then blaming the girls you’ve got a good sound spanking coming. As for hazarding the barn… what was it you said, a switching, ‘raise welts like worms?’ Someone I know won’t sit down for a week.”

“J-jjjaaaayke,” Amy wailed as she backed up even further.

Tired of waiting Jake reached out with a stride and seized Amy’s wrist. Then hauling easily back he sat down and hefted her across his knee.

“Jake,” Amy squealed.

Her skirts tumble dup and over her back along with her other fripperies, leaving her white cotton draws to be tugged down to a pool below her knees.

“Jake,” Amy screeched again, “You wouldn’t dare.”

He snorted and pressed the flat side of the brush to his wife’s bare bottom.

Amy gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes back like a wild pony as she tried to gauge when and where the first spank was coming. Then it came.

“Ah Jake,” she yelped, but most of her energy was needed to ride the pain and she was forced to grab at his calves so as not to reach back.

As with the girls, Jake delivered a fast furious spanking that landed a good 50 or 60 swats in as many seconds leaving his wife groaning through her clamped jaw and raggedly breathing from the strain. It was a story well told on her bare bottom, which quickly stained dark strawberry welts.

Above in the loft the sisters had opted to lay face down facing the rail overlooking the main room below. The stew was good and hot, a good match for their twin domed bottoms peeking above the blanket’s edge to cool off. Neither minded that too much now, the show below was such a fine distraction.

“I reckon he’s spanking her good,” Sarah giggled.

“I reckon she deserves it,” Emma agreed.

Sarah made a rueful face as she reached back to rub at her own bottom. “I know she does,” she said.

“To be fair, we deserved our spankings too,” Emma whispered at the implied criticism of Jake or Amy.

“I suppose,” Sarah said with a pout, and she winced to make sure Emma knew she still suffered.

Below the spanking was gathering pace and a red-bottomed Amy had given up gritting her teeth and her laboured breathing to give over fully to howls and hollering. This was unsurprising given the rapid and heavy pace of the spanking. Jake’s arm was like a piston on a jenny machine or one of those fairground steam engines.

“I don’t think he’s all that set to stop,” Emma said with a note of awe.

“I reckon not,” Sarah smirked as she took a health dollop of stew. “I was so dreading supper, but this is rather good.”

Emma gave her an old-fashioned look and tried to appear superior. She knew full well that Sarah wasn’t talking about the stew.

“Jake, aieee,” Amy was screaming; “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” she wept.

“Now that’s a spanking,” Sarah said emphatically.

“Indeed it is sister,” Emma said with a mock formality and they both regarded each other for a moment and then nodded in unison.

The spanking went on for a good while and long before Jake had finished Amy’s bottom was as raw leather and blistered to hell and gone. Then finally he pulled her into his arms while she collapsed sobbing into them.

“I’m sorry,” she wailed when at last she could draw breath.

“I know, I know,” Jake soothed.

“You still gonna take a switch to me?” she asked in the voice of a little girl.

“I reckon tomorrow I will,” Jake told her.

“Fair enough I suppose,” Amy said through rueful tears.

“Now young lady, you can go stand in the corner while I have my supper,” Jake ordered her.

“Yes Sir,” Amy groaned.

Then remembering something, she shot a glance up at the loft, but the impromptu theatre lovers had already ducked back into the shadows with supressed giggles. God if they looked down and saw her in the corner she would just die, she knew she would.

“Corner, now,” Jake barked.

Amy hustled to it furiously blushing as there was no way the girls above hadn’t heard that. It wasn’t even the end of it, tomorrow she had to cut a switch for a real hiney blistering. There was no way the girls would miss that, damn and blast, me and my big mouth.

cowgirl trouble

4 Responses to “The Trouble with Cowgirls”

  1. Even though the spankings are severe, otk and brushes are so much more intimate than the cane. I also love it when justice is served. Great work!

  2. True that.

  1. 1

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