So I'm having a ball with this ageplay romp, working title "The Cowboy's Little Reporter," suggested by my editor. Here's a taste of tough-as-nails reporter Victoria Mason's very first whipping:
Just as the fingers of his right hand found the button, while his left hand held her firmly down on the bed, the resistance went out of Victoria. She wailed, "Please. . . I'll. . . I'll take them down, okay? I'll do it."
Ross let go, and stood up from the bed. Victoria shuddered as she reached her hands down in front of her waist, and undid the buttons of her fly. Being careful to show him nothing but the pert ovals of her bottom, she pushed her tight jeans and her lacy black panties down. When they had reached a point just below the tops of her thighs, Ross said, "That's enough, darlin'. Now put your hands out and hug the pillow. That'll help."
Her face had been turned into that pillow while she pulled down her pants and panties. Now, as she took it in her hands, Victoria turned her right cheek so that it rested there, and she could see Ross, who smiled to reassure her. He reached to his belt-buckle, and Victoria gave a little whimper.
"Please. . ." she said, "not too hard, Mr. MacGregor." A very different note had come into her voice. That note was very well known to Ross, but he couldn't help feeling surprised to hear it in Victoria Mason's words. A hint of littleness had entered her demeanor, and thus also their dynamic--not only could he hear the sound of the scared little girl in the way she spoke to him, but her face had set itself in a sweet, penitent expression that seemed to him utterly foreign from the hard journalistic set of her eyes and her chin when she had first entered under his roof just an hour before.