Howling at the Moon

“But tomorrow’s spanking night.” Jett Montgomery glanced at the clock on the wall. “I can’t make it to Bear Creek and back in time for spanking night. If I leave tonight I’ll be driving on winding mountain roads after dark. Can’t this wait until Monday?”

“You’ll be staying all weekend.”

Jett’s mouth dropped open. First he wanted to skip spanking night, and now he was kicking her out of town for the weekend? What the heck was going on? She stared at him, wondering what to say that would not make her sound like a child who was not getting her way.

“Jett, I need you to do this for me.” Stan Hollings, her boss, got up from his desk and walked toward her. “These papers need to be signed and filed before Monday at five.”

Jett’s heart sank. Tears welled up in her eyes but she fought them back. “Can’t you send Cassidy? Or Marta?”

“I’ve given you this assignment,” he said. “You’re going to Tres Lobos Lodge, which is between Bear Creek and Angel Fire. You’ll also be going through Las Vegas tomorrow to pick up papers from the bank there, where our client has an account. That means you’ll be taking the 518 from there to Angel Fire. Make sure you leave early, because according to the weather report we could get an early fall snow.”

She had so many questions, so many things she wanted to ask, but it was after four now, and if she was going to stay for the weekend she needed to get home and pack a bag and get to bed early. Why was he doing this? “Sir, have I offended you in some way? I know our relationship is not exactly normal, but—I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”

Stan crossed to her, gently touched her arms and kissed her forehead. “I’m not angry. I trust you to get this done for me because it’s very important. Now, please go.”

Jett nodded, crossed to his desk and picked up the expandable file and headed toward the door.

“The places I need signed are marked,” Stan said as she turned the doorknob. “I’m sure he’s going to want to read the papers before he signs them, even though we’ve discussed it before. That’s why you’re staying for the weekend.”

“Tres Lobos Lodge,” she said.

“Owned by Griffin Flack. We went to law school together, but he decided raising horses and catering to tourists was a better way to make a living.” Stan snorted. “Some days I think he made a better decision than I did.”

The wistful tone of his voice pulled at her heartstrings. Stan never sounded like that.

Jett turned away from the door. “Something is wrong. Tell me.”

“Nothing is wrong, unless you don’t leave now and start getting ready.” Stan crossed the room. He reached around her and opened the door. “Scoot.”

Jett was barely out the door before Stan shut it behind her. She went to her desk and gathered her things, thinking all the time about anything she could have done to upset him. She and Stan had a strange relationship, that was for sure. She’d started seeing him before she’d taken a job at a legal firm near downtown Santa Fe. When she found out he was one of the partners there she’d freaked out. She hadn’t wanted to date Stan, who was technically her boss, so they’d broken it off. Until they’d realized they both missed the great sex, and the incredible spanking and bondage.

While they missed things, they both knew they were not meant to be together as in together forever. Their’s was not a love match, they both knew that. So they’d made a pact that there would be no sex between them, but he would spank her twice a month, and that would be all. No bondage. No sex. Just spanking. That had been eight months ago, and they hadn’t missed a night. Until now.

She stopped at her desk and put things away before she picked up her purse and headed toward the door. This was just so odd. Why was he being this way, pushing her away from him on the night they were supposed to have their thing? As she entered the parking garage, the cooler weather seeped into her. It had been a hot summer, so going to the mountains and enjoying the trees and open skies would be nice. But she hadn’t planned on going there this weekend.

This was the first time Stan had ever sent her out of Santa Fe on an errand. The farthest she’d ever gone from the office was to the courthouse. She wondered what she was going to find at the end of her trip, and what she was going to do for the weekend while Griffin Flack read the papers in the folder.

Angel Fire was part of the Enchanted Circle, named because it circled around Wheeler Park, the highest point of the state. There were many quaint towns around the circle where tourists shopped, skied, ate, drank, and soaked in the mountain air. Jett had visited the area many different times in her life, spending weekends with boyfriends – when she had one – girls’ weekends, and with her family.

But it was way too early for skiing, which meant that was out. Maybe she could go shopping in Red River, or pop over to Taos and visit a few art galleries. Or maybe she would hole up in her room at Tres Lobos Lodge and read a book.

It took a moment for her to dump the folder and her purse in the backseat before she sat down, buckled up and hit the button to start her SUV. She backed out of her space much faster than she should have, because if she didn’t she would go back upstairs and demand to know why he was ignoring their date, why he was pushing her almost a hundred and fifty miles away.

If he didn’t want to continue their arrangement he should tell her, not just flounce her off on some errand that any one of the paralegals could do.

“Don’t go back, don’t go back, don’t go back,” she chanted as she left downtown and headed toward her condo on Calle Del Resplandor. If she went back right now she would probably say things she shouldn’t, and she would end up losing her job, the one that kept her in the nice condo. That, she supposed, was the bad idea about messing around with the boss. If things turned wonky, staying at the job would be awkward. She and Stan had talked about it before. She hoped that wasn’t what was happening. Finding another job in Santa Fe would be tough, and she didn’t care to give up her life in the city she’d come to love.

She entered her code at the gate, drove to her spot and parked. “Just do your job,” she said to the empty car. “You can spend the weekend coming up with scenarios about how to approach the elephant in the room. Just remember to keep hold of yourself when you talk to him.”

She banged her hand against the wheel. She had places to go, and daylight was fading. She knew he’d told her to start out tomorrow, but she was going to pack as quickly as possible and head down the Interstate to Las Vegas. She’d have a nice dinner at the hotel on the plaza, and then head to the bank, and up to the Circle tomorrow. Leaving town tonight would keep her from going back to the office. She’d have a margarita, or two, with her dinner. That would help her to relax, and, hopefully, get a good night’s sleep.

***

Stan watched as Jett’s car exited the parking garage and headed out of downtown. He felt horrible about hurting her feelings but things had to be done; he had to make sure things moved in the right direction.

Once her car was out of sight, Stan sat down at his desk and picked up the phone on his desk and dialed.

“Flack.”

“Hey.” Stan pictured his friend sitting in the main room of the Tres Lobos office, papers strewn over his desk. If it had been after five he imagined Flack with a woman near his desk, naked and kneeling, waiting for instructions.

“One sec.” There was a great deal of noise, none of which Stan could decipher, and then Griffin was back on the line. “What’s up?”

“Don’t tell me what you were just doing,” Stan said.

“Okay, I won’t.” Griffin chuckled. “I take it you’re calling to tell me she’s on her way?”

“She is.” Stan toyed with a pen on his desk. “She should be there around four tomorrow, depending on stops. She was not happy when she left.”

“Well, as you said she expects a spanking every other Friday, and she left the office knowing that wasn’t coming.” There was a long pause. “You should tell her the truth, Stan. I don’t mean to sound like a greeting card, but the truth is the best way to go. Tell her, Stan. Call her now.”

“Thanks for the advice, Dad, but I’m not letting the news out just yet,” Stan replied. He knew Griff was telling the truth, but he didn’t want to let his secret out. He needed more time. “You agreed to this, remember?”

“I should have had my head examined.”

Stan heard the frustration in his friend’s voice. He felt guilty for pulling him into it, but it was the only solution he could think of right now, and he had little time, really.

“Let me know when she gets there,” Stan said.

“Yup,” Griffin said. “Got to go. I have things to take care of to free up my schedule so I can do what you should be doing.”

The line went dead, and Stan hung up the receiver. Griffin was right. He should have sat Jett down and explained things. He was being a chicken-shit. He still had the receiver in his hand, and he could call Jett and tell her the truth. If she was his collared sub he would do just that. But their relationship was different. That didn’t mean, though, that he could treat her like crap and not answer her questions. She probably thought he had another woman he was meeting with this weekend, which wasn’t the truth. He hadn’t had a collared sub in two years.

His life hadn’t turned out as he’d planned. He was forty years old, single, childless, and ready for a change. When he announced his decision, there would be anger, and hurt feelings.

The only person he worried about in this process was Jett. She was thirty-three years old, and she’d expected more from him. Then things had come crashing down, and she’d wasted the last two years on him, and he intended to set her on a path that would, hopefully, give her a better life. Either that or he would think of himself as a royal ass.

Hopefully things would work. He reached into his desk and pulled out a bottle of scotch. He needed a hit to make it through the rest of the day so he didn’t worry about what was going through Jett’s mind.

***

Griffin Flack hadn’t had a blind date since high school, which was twenty-five years ago. He especially hadn’t had a blind date with a sub whom he was expected to spank, and seduce. He preferred taking his time with new subs. If one of them wanted a weekend of fun he had Doms he employed for just that reason.

He hadn’t had sex in so long it was a possibility his body would react like he was a teenager again and he’d come in three seconds flat. For a Dom trying to prove his dominance that was not a good thing.

It was also one of the reasons why he’d worked at turning down Stan’s stupid idea, and by stupid he meant the one that would arrive tomorrow afternoon. Not that the woman was stupid, it was just that it was a stupid, stupid idea. There was a huge part of him that was just going to look over the fake papers she carried, sign them, and send her on her way. Of course he could keep his word and take her over his knee. But there was that wonderful problem of him rising to the occasion.

Griffin knew that Stan’s idea was that Griffin would fall in love with Jett at first sight, but he would work hard to make sure that didn’t happen. He didn’t want to break his streak of being celibate.

Griffin looked up at the knock on the door to see Burt Woodland standing in the doorway.

“Hey, boss,” Burt said. He had his cowboy hat in his hand, and was turning it round and round. “I think we might have a problem.”

“Don’t bother me unless it’s a true problem,” Griffin said.

“Okay, we have a problem,” Burt said. “That dick from the next ranch, he climbed the fence near the cabins again.”

“That SOB.” He stood and paced for a few moments, then grabbed the landline phone on his desk and dialed. When a voice came on he said, “Let me speak to Tricky.” He paused and said, “Find him, and tell him to get out to Tres Lobos ASAP.”

He was about to slam down the phone before he realized how rude he’d been and said, “Sorry I was short with you. Tell him Griffin Flack needs to see him. I have a problem that needs taken care of.”

The young girl on the other end of the phone murmured her assent, and he let her hang up first before he slammed down the receiver. He liked using a landline for just that reason; when he was angry it felt good to slam down the phone.

“What did he see, Burt?”

“He saw a naked woman in cabin three, bound between the columns with a plug up her ass and weights on her nipples. She was riding a dildo held up by the post.”

“Fuck!” Griffin sat down in his chair.

“Stretch sat next to her, flicking a riding crop against her ass and telling her to fuck it faster. Portland ran onto the porch and tried to throw his jacket over the sub. She freaked out. Stretch calmed her down afterward.”

“That asshole!”

“Don’t get mad at Stretch,” Burt said. “He was just doing his job.”

“I’m not talking about Stretch,” Griffin said. “I’m talking about the dick from next door. I’m going to have to file a restraining order against him. Please tell me he didn’t have a camera with him.”

“Stretch didn’t mention it,” Burt said. “He chased him off with an unloaded shotgun.”

“Tell him to load it with buckshot,” Griffin said. “If the SOB comes back, shoot next to him. Maybe that will keep him away.”

“You got it, Boss,” Burt said. He put on his hat and left.

Griffin picked up a pen and tapped it against the desk. His new neighbor, Nick Portland, had offered to buy Griffin’s land on the west side of the road. Griffin had told him it wasn’t for sale, and that caused tension between the two. Portland wanted to start a dude ranch, much like the one Griffin ran on the east side of the highway. Tres Lobos West was a BDSM dude ranch, where ladies hired the services of Doms for a few days. There were three cabins, and they were far away from each other.

He had built eight-foot fences around the land to keep out the curious. Ever since Portland had moved in he’d been scaling the fences, or wading down the creek to see, as he’d told Griffin one time, what sort of illegal activities required such high fences.

Griffin wasn’t sure if filing a restraining order against his neighbor would work, but he promised the ladies who came out here for painful pleasures privacy. He couldn’t have Portland ruining the business he’d built up for the last six years.

“Burt!” he called out as an idea came to him. He heard Burt, one of his most requested Doms, run back toward him.

“Put some razor wire on top of the fence,” he said. “Then put out a sign that says it’s electrified.”

“Do you want it to be?” Burt asked.

“No.” Griffin continued to tap his pen against the desk. “But I want that ass to stay off my land.”

“Got it,” Burt said, just as Griffin’s cell phone rang.

Griffin looked at the display, and after he clicked it on he said, “Tricky, I have a huge problem. I need your help.”

“Oh my way,” his high school friend said. “Tell your chef to fix me some lunch, please. I haven’t had any yet, and I’m starved.”

“So you call your sub my chef?” Griffin said with a laugh. “You can’t just say tell my wife to fix me some food?”

“Celeste loves to be reminded that she serves me in all ways,” Tricky said. “Tell her Master wants a huge plate of food.”

Both men laughed, and they hung up. Griffin called the kitchen to order a meal for Tricky, then sat back in his chair. He had two problems to deal with now, the sub coming from Santa Fe, and his neighbor who couldn’t keep his nose in his own business.

Who said weekends were supposed to be fun, because the way this one would start tomorrow, he was sure it was going to be a disaster.

Jett piloted her car on the winding roads through the mountains, her mood much improved from yesterday. She’d had a good dinner last night, read a book, and had been up early this morning and made it through her bank errand in record time. She’d been surprised they’d given her the papers since she wasn’t on the account. The only thing she could decide was that Griffin Flack must be a good customer, and they bent the rules for him.

At the rate she was going she would be at Tres Lobos just after noon, and she was afraid that was too early. She hadn’t called Stan to check-in, nor had she really wanted to. The more she thought about his pushing her off with no real explanation, and the fact that she wouldn’t be spanked tonight, the more she didn’t want to talk with him. She would miss the spanking. It was something that, sometimes, got her through the two weeks until the next one.

Spanking helped her to release stress, and it got her hot. When she and Stan had made their pact not to have sex she’d understood; but she always needed the release afterward, so she’d go home and get out her battery-operated boyfriend and go to town. But after a while, masturbation became tedious. It produced an orgasm, but it was a bit boring. It was almost routine now. Spanking, drive home, orgasm, sleep. There was no zing to it now, no spark.

When she served a man, took his orders and let him play with her body, her orgasms were incredible. They made her tingle, they made her soar. Not anymore, and that was a shame.

Maybe that was why Stan sent her away. There was no excitement anymore, and his way of not letting her down by telling her she was boring was by sending her away.

The more she drove, the more she thought she was right. But she was concerned that Stan hadn’t mentioned it to her. Why hadn’t he just said their arrangement was over? That had been the deal they’d made, that if either one of them wanted out they would just tell the other. There would be no pressure since there was no love between them. She had feelings for him, but not the type that were happily ever after stay with a man for the rest of your life feelings.

She was beginning to think she’d never find that sort of love. All her high school friends were married, and the few whom she’d made since school were also married. She went to movies on her own, or was the third wheel at dinners with friends and their husbands. At dinner parties her friends always invited an unattached male, hoping she would make an instant connection to them and they would get to be bridesmaids at the wedding. But that hadn’t happened yet.

It would probably never happen.

A green sign on the road said Angel Fire was thirty miles away. That meant Tres Lobos was not more than five miles ahead. She turned her attention away from Stan and to the road and scenery, which was absolutely stunning. She turned off the air and rolled down the window. There was the sound of running water to her left, which meant there was a stream, or river, to the west.

Another mile down the road the sound disappeared, which meant, she thought, that it was winding, sort of like the road she was on. She passed a closed gate on the left, and then slammed on her brakes as the sign for Tres Lobos appeared on her right. It was a good thing there was no one behind her, she thought as she turned and drove through the open gate.

The meadow on either side of the road was beautifully green. She’d barely made it through the gate when a woman riding a horse burst through the trees. She was heading for the main road, but Jett watched as she reined in the horse and waved at Jett. When the car passed the horse, Jett watched in the rearview mirror as the woman turned the horse and started to run in the same direction.

The woman bent down, a huge grin on her face as she spurred her horse to run faster. Jett pressed down on the gas, but she had to take a slight curve so she braked, and when the lodge came into view, horse and rider were already there. The woman laughed and took off in the direction she’d been going before she saw Jett. By the time Jett got out of the car, the rider was already gone.

The first thing she did was inhale the clean, cool mountain air. It was invigorating, and her already improved mood shot even higher. This was so much nicer than living in town, smelling the exhaust of cars and listening to horns and squealing brakes.

“Hello.”

Jett turned to a young, handsome cowboy who had his hat in his hand. “I’m Burt, and you are?”

“Jett,” she said. “I’m looking for Griffin Flack.”

“Ah, the boss man,” the cowboy said. “He’s in his office right now, meeting with a neighbor. Do you have a reservation, ma’am?”

“I suppose,” she said. “I’ve been sent from Mr. Flack’s lawyer in Santa Fe, and I’m expected to stay the weekend.”

“Yes, I remember that.” He grinned, which made him all the more handsome. “I think you’re booked for Babbling Brook.”

“Excuse me?” Jett said, a smile on her face.

“Your cabin, it’s called Babbling Brook.” He offered her his arm. “Let’s go inside and check. Babbling Brook is set apart from the other cabins, so you’ll have a bit of privacy.” He leaned in closer. “It also has a jetted tub, and a bar stocked with lots of liquor and wine.”

“Is there a blender for margaritas?”

“Of course,” Burt said. “All the cabins have one. All of the cabins also have fully stocked kitchens in case you don’t want to come to the lodge for dinner.”

“There’s a restaurant?”

“A fine one,” Burt said. “Our chef is one of those school-trained ones, who makes food that is sometimes hard to pronounce.”

Jett laughed. They were climbing stairs to the lodge now. Burt rushed ahead and opened the door for her. She went inside and her eyes widened. The rustic lodge was decorated in wooden furniture and marble tables. The only person in the room was the woman manning the desk. Her head was down, focused on something. When she lifted it and saw Jett and Burt a grin broke out on her face.

“Hi, you must be Jett. Welcome to Tres Lobos!”

She was so bubbly that Jett wondered if the woman, who looked to be in her early twenties, was a cheerleader in her earlier life. She made Jett smile.

“I am Jett,” she replied. “And you are?”

“Nan,” the younger woman said. “Now, you’re in Babbling Brook, and Burt can take you up there. There’s a parking space for your car there, or you can leave it here and walk if you like. Dinner is served from five to nine. We have horseback riding, swimming, a pool hall, a movie theater, and a library. You can choose whatever you want to do.”

“You have a movie theater?” Jett asked.

“Well, we call it that.” Nan giggled. “It’s really a big screen TV with streaming movies, or DVDs. We decide what to show through a show of hands from those who show up. There is a TV in your cabin with streaming services, too.”

“Sounds nice, but what I need is to talk with Mr. Flack. He and I have an appointment at four.”

“He’s expecting you,” Nan said. “He’ll be ready at four.”

Jett had hoped that he might be ready a little earlier, but she decided it would be nice to get settled in, maybe take a nap. She had three hours before she was set to meet with Griffin Flack.

“If you haven’t had lunch the dining room is still serving,” Nan said. “The chef prepared Chinese food today. Mine was delicious. She serves until three. Oh, that reminds me, I forgot to tell you that breakfast is served from seven until eleven, and lunch starts at noon until three.”

Nan took a breath before she continued, “Of course you can always go into Bear Creek, Angel Fire, or drive into Red River to eat. Lots of fun things to do in those towns.”

“I think I’ll wait for dinner,” Jett said. “But thank you. Do you need a credit card to secure my bill?”

“All taken care of,” Nan said. “Burt, please show Jett her home away from home until Sunday. Jett, if you need anything just dial zero from your room and we’ll do our best to fulfill your every wish.”

“Yes, anything you need you let us know.” Jett turned toward the new voice, and her heart nearly stopped. Where she’d thought Burt was a handsome cowboy, the man standing behind her was, without a doubt, so handsome he could pose for statues and pictures. He had dark hair and a beard, both of them close-cropped. His eyes were a beautiful hue of green, and there was a dimple in his chin that made him look like a movie star.

“Ms. Montgomery?” He held out his hand. “Griffin Flack. I wanted to come out and say hello. It looks as if my staff is taking good care of you.”

“Definitely,” Jett managed to say. She wanted to tell him to call her Jett, but for some reason she couldn’t speak except for the one word she’d just managed to eke out.

Her knees were now weak and her nipples were hard.

“I hope you’ll let me escort you to dinner tonight,” he said. “I’ve asked the chef to make her specialty, green chili enchiladas. They are delicious.”

“Sounds… delicious.” Jett wanted to smack herself upside the head. Couldn’t she have thought of a different word besides the one he’d just used? What was wrong with her?

“Well, I have a phone call conference in a few moments.” He inclined his head in her direction. “I will see you at four for our meeting, and dinner will be afterward.”

They said their goodbyes, and when they were heading toward the cars, Burt said, “Sorry if Nan gave you too much information. She always wants to serve.”

“I like her enthusiasm,” Jett said. I like your boss, too, she wanted to say. He made me wet. Very wet.

“She has that in spades,” Burt said. “You want to follow me down?”

“Sure.” Jett got in her car and fell in behind him as he drove down the road into the trees. She needed to push the image of the handsome resort owner away from her mind and pay attention to where they were going. They passed the first three inlets, and at the fourth one he turned right. When she saw the cabin her eyes lit up. It was not what she’d expected. She’d thought it would be rustic, but it was a log cabin that looked like it could be lived in year round.

“I expected camping style cabins,” she said as she got out of the car. She headed for her trunk but Burt beat her there. “I’ll carry.” He took out her luggage and they headed up the stairs to the front door.

“We do have camping spaces available for those who want it more rustic,” he said. He set down her luggage and unlocked the front door. “Most people like the luxury of the cabins, though.”

When she was in the living room she wanted to say most people with money. This place didn’t come cheap, she was sure of that.

“I put your bags in the master bedroom,” Burt said. “There is a folder of information near the landline in the bedroom. It includes the password for the WiFi, and password for the satellite dish so you can watch TV if you want. The refrigerator is stocked with the staples. If you need anything else just dial zero.”

“Thank you, Burt,” she said.

The cowboy inclined his head, put his hat on, and left. When he was gone, Jett took a tour of the cabin. There was a bedroom with a twin bed and a set of bunk beds. The bathroom had a tub and a walk-in closet. The kitchen had top of the line appliances and marble countertops.

But it was in the master bedroom that she stopped and her mouth dropped open. There was a California king bed that looked as if it would sleep five people. She closed her eyes and imagined having sex with Griffin Flack in that bed, rolling around and being taken in every way possible. There were no posts so the bear of a cowboy couldn’t tie her to the bed, but she was sure he would figure out a way to bind her.

She imagined the cowboy standing over her, riding crop in hand. “Are you a naughty girl?” he asked, tapping the crop against his thigh.

Jett’s pussy seized, and her clit pulsed. She knew what she needed to do before she met with Griffin Flack; she needed to take care of herself so she wasn’t tempted to jump the man’s bones the minute she walked into his office.

Her clothes hit the floor in a tangled mess as she stripped. Once she was in the center of the bed she spread her legs and rubbed her bare mound. In her mind, Griffin Flack stood at the end of the bed, watching.

“Open them,” he demanded.

“Look at that beautiful ring,” fantasy Griffin said. “Only nasty girls have pierced clits. Are you a nasty girl?”

“Yes,” Jett said as she pulled on the ring.

“Yes, Sir,” he said, his voice demanding, yet soft. “If you want to serve me you have to learn your place.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jett said. She was right on the edge. She wanted to come, but then again she didn’t. If she did would the image she had of the man she’d just met disappear? Nan had told her she could call the desk and get anything she wanted.

She brought her breasts into play, twisting her nipples as she did the same thing to her clit as she imagined the phone call.

“I’d like Griffin to come fuck me,” she said into the imaginary phone.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” imaginary Nan said.

“I want his cock in me!” Jett screamed.

“Where?” Nan asked. “He’ll want to know before he gets there. Tell me, client in Babbling Brook, where do you want Mr. Flack to put his cock.”

“He can claim any of my holes,” Jett said as she rubbed harder.

“Then Mr. Flack will claim them all,” Nan said.

Jett tugged on her clit ring and she came, her hips shooting into the air and pumping back and forth as if she were being fucked. She saw stars, and her body quaked as her orgasm surged through her. It was incredible. The only thing that would have made it better was if he had been true. If Griffin had actually been there, watching.

It had been far too long since she’d had sex. She collapsed onto the bed, her thoughts turning to Stan. She was used to getting herself off after Stan spanked her, but she hadn’t come as hard as she’d just done in ages. Maybe Stan knew what he was doing pushing her away on spanking night. Maybe he knew it was time for her to find a new man.

She just wished it were someone like Griffin Flack, who lived three hours away from her.

Damn it.