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The Devil’s Cowboy by Kallista Dane – Sample

The Devil's Cowboy by Kallista DaneChapter One

“It’s time for you to go work on one of your hot spanking stories. But this time, I’m going to make sure you’re writing about what I like. Come here.”

Selena moved hesitantly toward her husband. This commanding tone in his voice was new… and she found it exciting.

“Bend over my lap,” he ordered. Hesitantly, she did as she was told.

Jason pulled up her tight skirt and yanked the black bikini panties down to her knees, baring her ass. Selena shivered as his rough palm stroked her bare flesh. Then she yelped at the first harsh whack. As he methodically began spanking one vulnerable cheek, then the other, he told her to start plotting her next story. She could barely concentrate on his words. Each time his hand descended, it set off another agonizing lick of fire on her naked bottom.

“You’re going to write this one and all the others from now on with your ass hot and red from a good spanking. Then tonight you’ll dress up for me. Wear that tight purple corset you bought that laces up the front with your black stockings and garter belt. Nothing else—except your black stiletto heels, of course. You’ll read me what you’ve written so far. If I hear anything I don’t like, you’re going to get spanked again, even harder. Then you’ll have to rewrite it to include scenes that you know will get me horny. And you’d better not dawdle. Because when you’re through, we’ll spend the rest of the night acting out whichever dirty part is my favorite.

“Just to make sure you’re thinking as slutty as I want you to while you write, I’m going to give you a little extra inspiration.”

Jason pulled her up and led her over to her desk in the adjoining sitting room, already set up with laptop open and ready to go. Selena hobbled along, her panties still around her knees.

He shoved the desk chair aside.

“Bend over the desk and pull your skirt back up to your waist.”

Selena did as she was told and felt Jason move away. The cool air on her burning bottom sent a little shiver down her spine, meeting the molten heat radiating from between her legs. She heard a drawer open and close in the bedroom, then his footsteps returning.

Suddenly she felt something smooth and hard rubbing against her ass. She jerked up and was immediately pushed back down and held there with a firm hand on her back.

“Don’t move.”

She caught a glimpse of the object in his hand and gasped. It was a gleaming stainless steel butt plug, small and rounded at the tip, then gradually flaring out to a frightening width until it narrowed again right above the flat base—just like the one she wrote about in her last story. He ignored her shocked reaction and shoved her legs wide apart. Then he began rubbing the cold tip of it back and forth, teasing her ass. After the spanking, she was so hot that she couldn’t stop squirming around.

Selena cried out in shock as she felt a hard swat.

“I said don’t move.”

In one agonizingly slow motion, Jason slid the tip in, penetrating her tight hole. She tensed, expecting pain, but he’d coated it with lubricant to ease its entry into her virgin ass. He pulled the smooth toy back out abruptly and she groaned, feeling suddenly empty. He laughed, wicked and low, a sound she’d never heard before, and began sliding the cold hard plug in and out, each time burying it deeper inside her ass, stretching her tight opening wider and wider. She moaned, struggling to stay in place.

He pulled it out completely and she sagged against the desk top, half relieved, half shamefully disappointed. Then she felt the hard tip again, probing her slowly, relentlessly. She shivered, savage desire building inside as he thrust the plug into her ass, invading her deeper and deeper, increasing the pressure until he finally rammed it in all the way to the hilt. This time Selena couldn’t help herself. She cried out, wiggling frantically.

Jason held her in place bent over the desk, leaning forward to murmur in her ear.

“Sooner or later, you will learn that things have changed around here. I mean what I say… and you will do as you’re told from now on. Or your ass will be mine to torment or tease on a daily basis.”

Jason disappeared back into the bedroom and Selena heard him open a drawer in the nightstand. Too soon, he was back. His fingers roamed over her stinging bottom, past the hard object protruding from her ass, to dip into the velvet heat between her legs. She bit her lip and clung desperately to the far corners of the desk, forcing herself to stay still. He laughed again, as though enjoying her struggle, and fingered her clit as he grabbed the base of the plug in her ass, moving it back and forth a few times. She cried out, grinding her mound against the hard rounded edge of the desk. Suddenly, he plunged it all the way back in. Selena let out a scream.

He reached forward, showing her the object in his other hand. “Now all that wiggling around you did after I told you to stay still earned you ten good swats with this brand new wooden paddle you bought me a while back,” he went on. “You’ve been aching to feel it, haven’t you? Well, tonight you will. And if you move again before I say you can, you’ll get ten more.

“Now count,” he ordered.

Selena gasped as she felt the raw sting of the paddle.

“No, stop. It hurts!” she protested.

“How many times do I need to tell you—from now on, it isn’t going to be all about how you feel or what you want. I want to hear you count… and until I do, I’m just going to keep spanking you. Then we’ll start all over on the ten swats you’ve earned.”

The paddle whacked her ass again, covering every inch of her burning bottom with one harsh stroke. Selena drew in a rough breath.


“That’s better.”

He grabbed the base of the plug, twisting it in her ass. Selena moaned, fingernails digging into the wood, desperately trying to stay in place. He followed with another stinging whack of the paddle. Selena cursed the day she’d brought it home a few months ago, handing it playfully to the man who had always been so gentle… until tonight.

“T… two,” she managed to stammer.

The long wooden paddle cracked down on her ass over and over. Selena forced herself to concentrate, her voice breaking, till she counted to ten. Each stroke of the paddle drove the butt plug deeper. Her legs trembled with the effort to maintain the wide stance he demanded. Between the hard, cold object invading her ass, the wicked sting of the paddle, and the sheer thrill of having her normally mild-mannered husband act out a fantasy straight from one of her stories, Selena was dripping wet.

Jason pulled the chair back to the desk. He pushed Selena down into a sitting position, making sure her skirt was still tucked up around her waist.

“Now write your story. Every time you move even a little, you’ll feel your bare ass stinging against the hard chair and you’ll rock that nice hard toy that’s still buried inside you. You’re not getting up until you’ve written a new story. When you’re ready for me to hear it, call me. I’ll be waiting. But this time, it will be our story you write… or you’ll have to start all over, beginning with another session across my lap.”

Jason headed for the bedroom, then stopped.

“By the way, I want you staying hot. You’re not allowed to play with yourself while you sit there, except to wiggle around so you feel that big butt plug I rammed up your ass. If your story is really good… or really, really bad… I may have to replace it with this.”

He stopped in the doorway and unzipped his pants to display the cock she knew so well. It was already stiff with desire, throbbing with need. To her surprise, he stood there and stroked himself openly, making sure she watched, before disappearing into their bedroom.

Selena moved experimentally in the chair. Jason was right. The rough fabric on the seat of the chair served as a constant reminder of how much her bare bottom stung. The plug sat firmly in place, deep in her ass, but if she squirmed around in the chair, she could tease herself, feeling it move inside her. She felt a stab of raw lust. It was all she could do not to reach down and slip a finger into her dripping slit. But that would be against the rules. Selena smiled a tiny smile… and began to type.

* * *

Wow! This was shaping up to be her hottest story yet—a hero with enough dom coming out in him to keep things edgy, lots of spanking, and this latest scene featuring ass play. Ellen pushed a limp strand of hair off her forehead and slumped back in the chair, rolling her shoulders to ease aching muscles. She sat up straighter, tightened the belt of her fuzzy brown bathrobe and scrolled back to reread tonight’s pages. She changed a few words, added a detailed description of how red Selena’s poor ass was getting while she was being paddled, and hit Save.

Suddenly she was starving. She glanced at her watch, surprised to see that it was nearly midnight. She’d been planted in front of the computer for hours.

“Come on, baby, let’s find ourselves something to eat.”

The gray cat rose effortlessly from the easy chair near the desk and padded along behind her to the tiny kitchen. “How can you sit in one position for hours and hours and never seem to mind?” she asked him. “Every muscle in my body is screaming at me right now. I really need to start going to the gym again.”

The cat ignored her as usual, wandering aimlessly around the room as if he wasn’t the least bit interested in what she was doing. Until he heard the can opener. Then he was all over her, rubbing sensuously against her bare ankles, purring as he wound his fur-covered body back and forth between her legs.

“I wish I had a guy who was half as interested in me as you are right now, JayJay. I’d love to have a guy like Jason—or any one of my male heroes, for that matter.”

Ellen split the can of tuna between them, dumping half into a bowl to mix with mayo and relish and adding a few slivers of water chestnut. The rest of the tuna she put on the floor in front of the cat, who immediately went back to ignoring her, focusing all his attention on the can.

She grabbed a fork and polished off her half of the midnight supper standing up, then headed back to the alcove off the living room where she’d set up her desk. Time to check the mail. Ellen was disciplined about that, never opening her emails until she’d finished writing the day’s quota. It was too easy to get sidetracked. Before she knew it, she’d be wasting hours reading the latest missives sent by other single friends who had nothing better to do with their evenings than Photoshop funny captions onto pictures of their cats, none of whom were as cute as her JayJay.

“Oh, great, here’s an offer to exchange dirty webcam pics with a Russian slut. And tonight we have three guaranteed penis enlargement ads.” Ellen scrolled through the day’s emails, keeping up a running commentary for the cat, who was once again ensconced on the soft cushions of the armchair nearby.

“That’s the trouble with going to all those X-rated sites to research my stories,” she muttered as she marked a whole row of emails and hit the delete button. “I’m telling you, JayJay, they must sell my email address to a whole array of smut peddlers. Otherwise why would I get a fresh load of this crap every day?”

At the mention of his name, the cat glanced over. When it didn’t look like any more tuna was forthcoming, he went back to licking himself. Ellen scrolled down, stopping when she recognized a familiar address. Eagerly, she opened the email from her best friend Melanie.

EL… I NEED U DESPRATLY read the misspelled caption.

“Okay, okay,” she muttered aloud. “You don’t have to yell. And what’s with the lousy spelling? This isn’t Twitter.” Normally her friend wouldn’t dream of sending out an email without going back over it and correcting any errors. Ellen could tell something was seriously wrong before she even opened it. Scrolling down, her eyes widened as she read.

El, you have to come to Dallas. You’re the only one who can help me. I’m sending this email instead of calling because I don’t want the kids to hear any of what I’m about to tell you. They cling to me every waking hour. I try to pretend everything is all right for their sake, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the act. They’re afraid to be alone in our home… and so am I.

The beautiful old house we just spent all our savings on is possessed by evil spirits. I know I teased you a lot about your psychic ability when we were young. Frankly, that was my way of dealing with something that scared me. But I’ve seen your abilities and now I’m glad I’m one of the few people who know what you can do when it comes to woo-woo stuff.

David is away on business nearly all the time and the kids and I are alone in this big old place. We have four bedrooms but Amy and Adam sleep in my room every night. If they spend any time in their own beds, they come out screaming or sobbing. Adam says there’s an enormous dark shadow with big wings hovering in the corner of his room and Amy complains about a lady who keeps her up at night because she’s crying so loud.

The spirits don’t come out when David is home. It’s as though they know he’d scoff and his disbelief keeps them at bay. But the minute we’re alone, they’re back. I know he’s becoming weary of my hysterical phone calls when he’s on the road. Not only that, I’m afraid he’s beginning to doubt my sanity. He’s made a few remarks about how I need to pull myself together because my ‘irrational outbursts’ are beginning to affect the kids. If he only knew!

You need to come here and bless this house or perform some ceremony to drive away the demons or whatever it is you do. Dave has lots of air miles stacked up from all the traveling he does. I got him to agree to let me cash some in to get you a ticket, so it won’t cost you a dime. He’s willing to do just about anything if it means I’ll quit freaking out all the time.

Please—come as soon as you can, El. I really need you.


Ellen sat back in her chair and took a deep breath. Then she read the email again, looking for details that might give her a clue as to the type of spirits she’d be dealing with. Huge winged dark shadow that hovers—that could be a fallen angel stalking Adam, following him into the present from a past life. Or, given the fact that Melanie lived out west, it could be an ancient Indian spirit lingering on what was once sacred ground.

As for the crying woman, Ellen knew the options were far more numerous for her. War widow, grieving mother in the bedroom of her long-dead child, or even a lonely woman who had never been able to conceive and was now confronted with the presence night after night of healthy young toddlers who would never be hers.

Adam was six and Amy nearly three, both still at the age when the wall between this life and the world where spirits dwelt was easy to breach. Ellen knew they could be capable of seeing and hearing entities that were invisible to adults… at least to most other adults.

Ellen had the gift—the ability to connect with the spirit realm. As a child, she’d calmly accepted the wide array of strange beings inhabiting the world with her, not realizing for years that everyone else couldn’t see angels or play dollhouse with children from the past like she did. Her parents were indulgent at first, humoring her when she insisted on setting a place for her ‘imaginary’ friends at the dinner table. But as time went on and she showed no sign of giving up what they saw as her delusional behavior, they became worried.

They dragged her to a variety of specialists, from neurosurgeons to psychologists. Brain scans and blood tests showed no anomalies. The psychologists said she seemed to be a normal, well-adjusted child—except for those lengthy conversations she carried on with invisible playmates. They predicted she’d outgrow her fantasy world and recommended that the child spend more time with her peer group.

Eventually, Ellen learned to keep her contacts with otherworldly friends a secret. For years she hid her abilities from everyone, feeling like a freak. When she was a freshman in high school, she finally confided in her best friend Melanie. They were having a sleepover at Melanie’s house and Melanie’s grandmother joined them. The old lady was sweet, but she just wouldn’t quit talking, telling Ellen endless stories about what an adorable baby Melanie had been.

Ellen was having a hard time concentrating on what Melanie was saying. Something important about the cute new boy in math class and how he’d been asking Melanie about her. Finally, in exasperation, she turned to the empty corner of the room and said “All right already! Melanie, your grandma wants to know why you never wear that pretty heart-shaped locket she left you.”

Melanie stared at her, mouth agape, and Ellen suddenly realized the danger in what she’d done. She tried to cover it up, but Melanie pestered her relentlessly and Ellen finally confessed her secret. Her friend took it well, asking endless questions and telling her how cool it was. But the next day, Melanie seemed nervous, backing away from any further discussion. Ellen figured she was scared. She discovered that most everyone was when they found out she talked to angels and dead people and even to otherworldly creatures she didn’t have a name for. So she went back to hiding her gift from everyone, never mentioning the assortment of ethereal spirits who wandered in and out through the walls of whatever room she happened to be in at the time.

A few years ago, she’d read a magazine article about Asheville, North Carolina, a picturesque mountain community filled with folks who supported and even sought out people with her unique skills. Two weeks later, she packed up her few belongings, crammed a furious JayJay into a pet carrier, and drove twelve hours straight through from Michigan. She rented a tiny cat-friendly apartment on Craigslist, one within walking distance of the vibrant downtown area. Then she made the rounds of crystal healing stores and psychic gatherings, offering her services to the locals as well as to the throngs of curious tourists who flocked to the mountains.

Now she scraped by performing psychic readings to support her real love—writing. She had half a dozen romance/adventure novels on Amazon, selling her work under a much more glamorous name than Ellen Jacobs. There’d been some minor successes. She even had a few loyal fans who read everything she wrote and left reviews that kept her spirits up on long lonely nights. But she didn’t make enough money writing to keep both her and JayJay in tuna.

Although Ellen was able to predict passionate love affairs for her growing list of clients, her abilities didn’t extend to seeing what the future held for her. It was as though the Spirit had put up a curtain. She could sense it, even feel it. But she couldn’t see what lay beyond it, no matter how hard she tried.

So far, her wildest romantic interludes had all been within the pages of her books. There were a few casual boyfriends in her past. But they had all reacted very much like Melanie—intrigued at first, then backing away when they discovered her gifts were real.

Except in the end, Melanie hadn’t backed away. She stayed a loyal friend… just as long as Ellen promised never again to bring up any of that ‘spooky shtick,’ as Melanie referred to it. That’s why her email came as such a shock. Ellen figured her friend must be seriously frightened to even broach the topic that had been taboo for years.

She checked the flight schedules out of Asheville’s airport and emailed back, telling Melanie there was a flight available that would put her in Dallas the day after tomorrow. Then she made a list of the clients she’d have to reschedule in the morning. When she finally went to bed she tossed and turned for hours, only to dream of a dark, malevolent winged serpent carrying Melanie’s screaming children off into the clouds while she watched, helpless.

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