The Blacksmiths' Arms

My daughters both wanted horses. Well, ponies first, then horses. Naturally we indulged them and, for a while I enjoyed the Gymkhana circuit and they actually did quite well winning the odd rosette and even a cup once. I not only enjoyed the riding action but I also found some of the people rather attractive, particularly tightly clad bottoms. Also, a regular treat for me was shoeing time. You know when they're worn out or they've thrown one and our not-so-local blacksmith would turn up in his Land Rover and put things right. The girls were always surprised when I volunteered to wait around whilst he plied his trade so, often as not they didn't even come to the stables when he was due. This rather suited me. Let's make no bones about it - I fancied him rotten and was very keen to progress something but, no matter how much and how blatantly I flirted he never showed a glimmer of interest in me so I was pretty gutted during most of his visits. In fact it was becoming a recipe for self-flagellation of one's self-image.

I'd almost given up but it was on one of his visits in late spring that I got a first ray of sunshine from our beefy, burly blacksmith when I noticed the way he slapped each horse's flanks. They seemed to like it and he certainly seemed to enjoy the sound and feel. It seemed to be more than a statement designed to control the horse as the caress had a slightly pervy edge to it. The next time he visited it was because Daisy had thrown a shoe so we were lone at the stables in our field. I was dressed slightly provocatively in flouncy little skirt and a rather low cut top with a 'present everything as best you can' bra giving me the full scaffolding treatment. As he was bending down to lift Daisy's hoof he gave the horse a solid whack, followed by a seemingly longing caress. 'It's now or never' I thought.

"You seem to be enjoying doing that to that lovely rump." I stuttered out as quick as a rat after a piece of chicken. There was a deathly hush and I felt a tingle up and down my spine like a little blast of electric current. Something akin to a twin pole battery being applied across a nipple (Yum). He slowly turned, rising to his feet and saving making any eye contact till he was towering above me.

"I do." His eyes bored into my soul. "I do." He repeated. His focus slowly lowered to take in my whole form, pausing on the way down at my cleavage and then again on the way up. I felt myself flushing with embarrassment.

"Turn." Was the only word he said and I knew that I had a choice. If I turned I was his there and then. If I fought I might blow the moment and miss out altogether but it might result in a harder spanking. After all, winding a big brute of a blacksmith up ought to have an effect don't you think? I paused but settled on a course of action and I put my hands on my hips glaring back at him.

"And why would you want me to do that?"

"Because I like to see what's on offer before I use the goods."

"And what makes you think there's anything on offer?"

"Because you've been watching the way I treat those rumps for nearly a year now and each time wearing less and less. Now turn." His voice was beautifully commanding. No more the soft-voiced blacksmith but now the man in charge. I looked him up and down then made my move. I reached forward and picked up one of his hands in mine turning it as I raised it and examining it carefully, running my fingers through the creases and over the hardened, calloused skin. I raised it further then dropped a little kiss in the centre then let it drop and turned. I looked over my shoulder and thought for one little moment that I might be gutted yet further should he choose to take this no further.

"Hmmm." Was all he said then produced the faintest smile. "Hold the reins for me." The only way past him was between his rather impressive chest and the horse so, choosing to remain slightly distant from the latter my breasts could do no other than brush against his overalls as I moved to the forward end of the animal to do as instructed. It didn't take him long to nail on the shoe and then file the hoof and all those bits but I wasn't prepared for the conversation he brought to the party.

"I like spanking rumps because they respond so nicely." At this point you couldn't really tell whether he was talking about horses or women. The word 'rump' sort of indicated horse but the word spanking was a definite come-on and his tone, so seductive and really laying the emphasis on the words 'spanking' and 'rumps' led my knees to grind in that uncontrolled way.

"They wriggle at first, sometimes wobble but always respond." This was getting more explicit but then, between grunts as he hammered nails home...

"I like the fillies best." Which was a definite move in the wrong direction. He started filing and I knew there wasn't long to go before I found out for certain whether he was teasing or tempting. He'd be finished soon.

"I suspect most fillies love it but you can't be sure." This was beginning to get to me. I needed what he seemed to be offering but it could so easily end with him just leaving. He duly finished and started to put his tools into the back of his Land Rover.

"Must go, this is my last job and I don't want to be later for the wife, you've already made me half an hour late." He shut the rear doors of the Land Rover then looked down at me as he picked up his phone.

"I'd better tell her why." I was crestfallen, so many hopes, so much teasing, such lovely hands, strong arms, great body and who knows about down below but here we were all over.

"Hi love" he said into his phone "I'm going to be late I'm afraid... Yes, something's come up... a thrown shoe..." I was heart broken but he continued "yes, a thrown shoe... oh and a very sexy lady who needs her bottom spanked and I'm the man to do it..." he was staring at me "yes a bit stuck up but a good body... I will love, I'll roast her buns for you."

He walked up the little concrete path leading Daisy behind him and returned her to her stall then bolted the door and turned to me.

"You ready." I was in shock.

"Um, yes, I suppose so."

"Been spanked before?"

"Yes."

"I'll bet you have." He sat on a low wooden mounting block and beckoned me over. I followed his waggling hand to his right and there in the open air I draped myself across his lap and waited. I felt my skirt being flipped up and a very gentle stroking sensation as he caressed my bottom through my thorough white panties. This went on for some minutes so the first spank was a real shock, so suddenly applied and so immediately harsh. Then the stroking again and a few minutes later another hard wallop blistering into my backside. The stroking diminished and the spanking increased both in tempo and level. It was blistering but I couldn't wait for him to get my knickers off. He duly obliged and then started the whole process again and I was in a heavenly place as the blows rained down I raised my bottom encourage him further.

"You'd better stand up and take that silly top off." I pushed myself off his lap, rubbing my bottom as I went then slowly undid the buttons on my blouse, watching his every flinching glance. I dropped it over the gate behind us.

"And the skirt." He sat back as I unhooked it and put it over the gate as well.

"And the rest." I reached behind my back and unhooked the catches on the scaffolding and slowly removed it, covering my breasts with my arms.

"Shy, are we?" I didn't reply but dipped my head a little. He stood up. "Bend over and grip the bar of the gate, the second from the bottom." I looked at it and slowly released my upper assets as I gripped as instructed. He came up to my side and leaning heavily into my leg gripped the opposite hip with one hand running the other over my naked buttocks. WoW, I could feel his stallion like 'presence' against my leg and I felt myself swooning as the first blows started to land and his meat jerked back and forth against my leg. Such sexy few moments one is rarely allowed and treasuring them is my speciality, writing of them here is my tribute and as ne spanked me I was in a heady place so when it stopped I was deeply sad.

"Stay as you are." I remained silent as he went into the next stall, which was empty and returned with a rather lovely riding crop. It was one of those with a broad, double leather tip that I knew would be more 'sound than fury' but I was amazed how he managed to make it really get to me. I was loving it whilst, at the same time fearing the mess my bottom would be after he'd finished his ministrations but I lost count at forty eight and it must have been double that had been delivered when he finally stopped. I was stoically silent and still. He regained his former position and started to rub the mess he'd made and his 'bone' rubbed once more in that lovely jerky way. I felt the callouses on the palm of his free hand rubbing over my nipples and that just set me off. I could feel a slow build up beginning in my breasts as he changed from one to the other. I removed one hand from the bar and reached up to his cock, feeling it through his overalls.

"Would your wife mind if I emptied that?"

"She'd consider it a favour well earned." I turned my naked body pulling my skirt from the gate and knelt on it in front of him. His overalls were buttoned up the front and I deftly undid them wasting no time at all in revealing his large, broad, deep and hairy chest then, with nothing on beneath his lovely uncut penis, semi hard yet still very large. The garment fell around his ankles and my lovely blacksmith, almost as naked as me thrust to the back of my throat with gay abandon. Beneath me, my bottom turned me on as I rubbed my sore buttocks against the hard skin of my heels, one hand made helped the process by making the most of my breasts, one of his helping further but it was his lovely, now rigid and deeply veined cock that put the seal on it and as he started to come I felt my own urgently sought release flooding through me just as his seed gushed into me. As flaccidity took over and his thrusting reduced I felt happy, content and fully aware that this would be a regular gig, just got to make sure shoes were regularly thrown - and they were.