Stormy Night Publications Publishers of BDSM and Kink Erotica
He leaned down and kissed my forehead gently. Then he took my backpack off my shoulders and grasped my upper arm firmly enough to let me know that it was no longer up to me whether or not I went with him. He led me all the way back to where we’d camped the night before without saying another word. My mind was racing the entire time, wondering what he might do or say.
Would he yell at me?
Images of the old photos flashed before my eyes. The last time I’d gone over his knee, it had been with curious arousal. I had a feeling this time was going to be very different.
“Ryker, I can explain…”
He simply shook his head, letting go of my arm and gently turning me back to face him.
“You defied me, Naomi,” he scolded, his voice dropping once more into a quiet, dangerous rumble. This was different than anything I’d heard from him before.
“I wasn’t trying to…” I whispered, my hands playing at my stomach. I didn’t know what to do with them. Straight at my sides felt odd, so I finally crossed one arm over my chest and grasped my shoulder. My fingers dug in hard enough to ache. I meant to distract myself, but it didn’t work.
There was something playing across his features, something I didn’t quite recognize, and it scared me a little bit.
“I’ve spanked you before, little girl. You also know what my belt feels like on your bare bottom, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I answered meekly, blushing a bit as the words fell off my lips.
“That was a spanking. I haven’t punished you yet, little girl,” he warned.
“You haven’t?” I asked, furrowing my brow anxiously.
“No. I haven’t, but soon, you are going to understand the difference.”
The finality in his tone made my stomach drop straight down to my toes.
Without another word, he pulled a thick blanket out of our camping gear and laid it over a fallen log. He turned to me, beckoning me to come closer. I didn’t know what else to do other than to go to him.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, more nervous than anything now that he’d confirmed my fears once and for all. He squeezed my shoulder a bit tighter.
“I know, sweet girl.”
For a long moment, he just held me before he took a step back and grasped the bottom of my shirt. He lifted it up and over my head. Slowly, he stripped me of each piece of clothing, but this time felt different. This time I was a little bit afraid.
My clit pulsed anyway.
When he finally reached for my bra and panties, he paused for a moment, running his fingertips over my skin. Fiery tendrils raced over every inch of me like a wild blaze. Then he reached behind my shoulders and unclasped my bra. He slid the straps unhurriedly down my upper arms, baring my breasts slowly but surely. My nipples pebbled in the cool breeze, and I raised my hands to cover them. I looked back and forth, knowing we were all alone but nervous someone might see all the same.
“You may either keep your arms at your sides or on the back of your head,” he directed, and the anxious flush only heated my face even further. When I didn’t obey right away, he knocked my hands out of the way and grasped both nipples in his hands. He pinched them far more fiercely than he’d ever done before, causing shivers of agony to radiate out across my breasts. I cried out, immediately pressing my fingers to the back of my scalp. A second later, he finally released them. They throbbed even harder after he let go.
He grasped my panties and pulled them down to my ankles.
“Bend over the log, little girl.”
I glanced from him back to it, chewing my lip anxiously. I imagined what I would look like bent over such a thing in the middle of the woods, how much I would be on display for him for what was to come.
“I…”
He lifted a single eyebrow and I stopped speaking almost instantly.
“Do as you’re told, little girl. This will be much easier for you if you are obedient for me,” he said tenderly.
“Will it hurt?” I whispered fretfully.
“The punishment will sting, yes, but you know I would never hurt you, don’t you?”
“I do know that,” I murmured, dropping my gaze to the ground. Gooseflesh popped up all over my body and a cold nervous shiver raced down my spine.
“Good,” he answered. He reached out, cupping my face in his palm. I leaned into his touch, not wanting it to end but it eventually did. When he pulled away, I sighed and padded over to the log. The thick moss beneath my feet was soft. I pressed my hands against the tree trunk, noticing that he had folded over the blanket twice. I climbed over it, thankful for the thick barrier between me and the hard surface beneath.
In a strange way, it was sweet.
The tree supported me lengthwise, but it was angled downward so that my head was much lower than my bare backside. My thighs were spread open around the thick trunk, putting my pussy on complete display.
His palm caressed my left cheek.
“I’m going to cut a switch, little girl. You will wait here for me and think about what you did until I return,” he instructed.
My eyes opened wide, terror racing through me as I slowly digested his words. He couldn’t be serious, right?
A switch?
I’d only read one book that mentioned a switching. I knew enough to know that it would sting very much. Anxiously, I lifted my head, watching as he walked the perimeter of the clearing, testing several branches before he settled on one. He used his knife to saw it off. With practiced hands, he trimmed off the excess twigs and leaves still attached to it. When he was finished, he had a long thin branch in his hands. He whipped it through the air and the whoosh I heard made me jump a little against the log.
A very real panic started to develop inside me.
“Please, maybe just use your hand this time?” I tried. I pushed up against the log and his palm on my upper back slowly pressed me back down. There would be no escaping this.
“Little girl, you were about to set out all on your own. You were going to cross the bridge by yourself. If you had fallen, I would have had no way of knowing. Even if you had made it across, you could have gotten lost in the woods. What you did was very dangerous and that needs to be dealt with harshly enough so that nothing like it ever happens again.”
His scolding made me squirm. The longer it went on, the more I realized my nervousness was turning into a strong sense of arousal.
I shifted over the tree, knowing that I was wet and that he could probably see it.
Did he like that? Did I?
His hand slid down the length of my spine, settling just over my lower back. He pressed down slightly and a part of me was grateful just to feel his touch on my skin. I turned my head and glanced back at him. His eyes caught mine and the warmth I was accustomed to seeing was there once more.
“You were a bad girl and I’m going to punish you for it,” he dictated.
He laid the switch on my bottom. It was cool against my skin, and I started, but he didn’t use it just yet.
“It’s time, my bad little girl,” he murmured.
I took a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for what was to come.
It wasn’t enough.
The switch was flexible, whipping across both sides of my bare bottom. The rush as it cut through the air was audible and by the time it hit me, my body had braced itself. The impact stung so much more than I thought it would. It was like my flesh had caught fire, smoldering, and then building into a scalding blaze as the welt started to rise on my skin.
Oh. Fuck. It hurt so much.
It was far different from his hand or his belt. That pain was spread out over a greater area, which made it almost duller in a way. Not like this. This was much sharper, the entire sting from the branch all centered in a very thin line across my backside. Before I was ready, he thrashed me with several stinging strokes in quick succession. All the air billowed out of my lungs, and I stopped breathing for a second as the fierce sting took hold once again.
I bit my lip, realizing for the first time that this was real.
Ryker was punishing me for a very real thing.
I sucked in a mouthful of air and the switch whipped me several more times. My thighs tensed around the fallen tree, holding on as the pain took over my body. My spine arched, the vicious wave of agony building as it rolled through me.
I rocked back a tiny bit and gasped in surprise.
There was a raised knob on the tree trunk. If I moved just so, I could scrape my clit against it. I squeezed my eyes shut. It might even be enough to make me come.
The switch rained down on my bottom several more times, immediately taking my focus from the needy little bundle between my thighs and turning it back to the burning state of my backside.
“Oh!” I cried out.
He whipped from the tops of my cheeks all the way down to the bottom of my ass, but he didn’t stop there. He switched both thighs hard enough that I knew they would burn long after this was over. I cried out, trying to bite my lip. I didn’t want to be too loud in case someone might hear, but soon, I stopped caring. There was no one here. There was only the two of us.
The sting built.
And built.
And built some more.
It became a fiery ball of agony that consumed my entire being. Soon, the lines of fire melded together into a burning blanket that refused to quell even just a little.
“Please!” I begged.
The more I squirmed, the more my clit rubbed against the bump on the tree. I was much wetter than I had been when he’d first stripped me. My arousal was building at a dizzying pace, quickly catching up with the stinging ache that was burning across my naked ass.
He paused for a moment, and I took the opportunity to catch my breath.
“I’m going to give you ten more with the switch, then I’m going to finish your punishment with my hand.”
My pussy clenched hard. Knowing he was going to use his hand should have been a relief, but the way he said it just made me more nervous.
“Please. I’ve learned my lesson,” I pleaded. I didn’t know why I’d started begging. It just seemed like the best thing to do, that maybe he would listen and know that it already stung.
That I knew this wasn’t a role play that was meant to get my pussy wet and that I knew that he would spank me for real when I was a bad girl.
I shifted against the knob and gasped. My clit pulsed needily.
“This next part is going to sting very much, little girl,” he warned. His fingertips traced over the rising welts on my bottom, and I whimpered faintly, his touch making each one simmer with even more heat. I reached back tentatively to touch them myself and he grasped my wrist, pinning it against my back. My panic surged even more viciously than before. Begging had changed nothing. He was doing exactly what he said he would and there was nothing for me to do but take it.
“Please,” I pleaded again, hoping that maybe I hadn’t done a convincing enough job the first time and that maybe he would hear me this time. I waited with bated breath. It changed nothing.
I heard the switch before I felt it.
The first of those final ten hurt more than all the previous strokes combined. The intensity had seemingly gone from fifty to one hundred with little warning. The second came down just as cruelly. There was no keeping count after that.
I didn’t take them gracefully. I didn’t even try.
It stung so much more than I thought possible.
Full-throated cries escaped me as the switch thrashed down on my backside and the tops of my thighs. Several strikes landed directly in the crease where my ass met my legs. I closed my eyes, suddenly on the cusp of tears and not knowing whether or not they would fall.
Just when I thought it was all going to be too much for me to take, he threw the switch to the ground.
His hand settled on my left cheek for a brief second before it slapped down hard.
It hurt more than that first spanking with his hand, maybe because I was already sore from the switch or maybe because this time, he was punishing me.
This wasn’t a spanking meant to make me wet. This was supposed to teach me a lesson.
He didn’t spank me quickly, but slowly and methodically. Each smack went deep, spiraling down with a painful ache and settling in my core. My inner walls flexed needily, and I told myself I wasn’t supposed to be liking this, but I did anyway.
There was no one like him back home, no one that would take what he wanted from me and make me feel the things that he did. Even when he punished me, I felt how much he cared for me with every vicious stroke of the switch and each hard swat of his hand.
Knowing that he cared made me even wetter.
When I thought the spanking couldn’t get any harder, it did. My hand snaked around his wrist as he held mine, holding on as his palm peppered my very sore stinging bottom.
“I’m sorry,” I pleaded.
“The next time you think about defying me, I want you to remember what this feels like. I want you to think about how much your bottom is burning and how much harder I’m going to spank you if I have to teach you this lesson again,” he scolded.
“Please! I’m so sorry!”
Despite my begging, he didn’t stop spanking me. It continued with his hand for a long while and when he punished my thighs, my eyes watered at the terribly intense sting. I blinked several times, trying to hold back tears. When the spanking finally ended, I gasped with relief.
My breath wavered at the brutal agony burning across my bottom.
Oh. That hurt.
I wiggled my hips the tiniest bit in an effort to shake out the sting and was instantly reminded of the rough knuckle of wood underneath. I chewed the inside of my cheek and tried to bite back the moan that threatened to emerge, but it slipped out anyway.
The continuous simmer of my punished backside started to fade, only to be replaced by the rampant arousal surging through my veins. My toes curled and my hips shifted, just rocking against the tree enough to tease my clit. My body shuddered with pleasure.
Did he know what I was doing?
His hands released my wrists and I tentatively pulled them forward, curling them underneath my chest and using my thumbs to graze my pebbled and very sensitive nipples.
My clit throbbed harder, begging for his touch. I had no idea why I was reacting this way. He’d just spanked me hard enough to where I almost cried. I should be angry. I shouldn’t be turned on right now.
The jostling of his belt buckle caught my attention and I turned back, opening my eyes wide when I realized that he was freeing his cock.
I swallowed anxiously, squirming on top of the tree trunk. My pussy clenched in excitement.
Was he finally going to fuck me? Was this it?
I’d seen his cock up close. I’d even taken it in my mouth, but despite all that, the size of it still startled me.
Would it hurt when he fucked me?
An even more shameful thought popped into my mind.
Where would he fuck me?
I blushed furiously as he moved beside me. I opened my thighs, unsure of what I wanted or even of what he wanted but needing to find out all the same.
“Sir?” I asked.
“You were a bad girl, weren’t you my Naomi?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” I whined anxiously. One of his hands palmed my left cheek before squeezing hard enough to make me gasp out loud. He did the same on the other side, digging the tips of his fingers into the welts the switch left behind. A fresh wave of pain washed over me.
I loved and hated it at the same time. I wanted him to do it again.
“Look at how wet you are for me,” he observed, and I blushed even harder. His hand reached down, sliding over my wet folds. I lifted my hips excitedly, hoping that maybe he would touch me where I needed him to the most. He didn’t.
“Bad girls don’t get to come.”
My heart sank, my mouth going dry with disbelief. He couldn’t be serious, right? I was so aroused, and I didn’t know how to fight it. His palm smoothed over my bottom, and I rocked my hips the slightest bit, hoping to entice him into fucking me.
Frustration rattled through me when his fingers didn’t reach down between my thighs. I looked back over my shoulder to see his fist clutching his cock instead.
“But…” I protested.
His hand stroked up and down his cock and he squeezed my bottom again.
“You were a very bad girl, weren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I wailed. I shifted over the log again, hoping to bring myself relief and the hand squeezing my ass slapped my pussy. The sharp agony was harsh at first, but it only made my arousal even worse.
His hand pumped up and down his cock and I watched it with a pout. I wanted to reach for him, to take him in my mouth, to touch him, for him to fuck me. Anything, but he just continued to use his own hand on himself instead of me.
Did I want him to use me? Even as I asked the question of myself, though, I already knew the answer.
I wanted to be used so much that it hurt. My core spiraled with need, throbbing painfully enough to make me cry out.
His fingers moved faster, squeezing tighter toward the head of his cock. My pussy stung and my inner walls fluttered with frustration at his blatant denial. I rocked my hips again but was quickly punished with a stinging spank directly on top of my pussy.
“Your ass is so very pretty when it’s so thoroughly welted, my bad girl,” he murmured, tracing his fingers across my sore bottom. He slapped it lightly and groaned with pleasure when I whimpered at the sting.
“Sir,” I mumbled, blushing.
“My seed is going to look even prettier on top of them.”
With a roar, his cum splashed on my burning cheeks, one spurt after another painting my aching flesh. It was so shameful that I could think of nothing to say. No ‘yes, sir.’ Not a single word.
My pussy broiled with need. My arousal was dripping down my thighs in spades. One drop after the next exposed how much I needed him right now, how much I needed to come.
“Please, sir,” I begged.
He said nothing.
“Please let me come, sir. Please. I’ve learned my lesson. I’m sorry for defying you,” I pleaded.
“Bad girls don’t get to come like good girls,” he said.
I swallowed hard. My pussy was burning hotter than I could stand and it was just getting worse. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take before I reached between my thighs and make myself come right there in front of him.
I blushed furiously at the thought.
“May I come like a bad girl?”
Anxiety brewed over the edge, and I held my breath. His fingers flittered slowly across my welted ass.
“Please, sir?” I added, hopeful.
He twirled his fingertips in his seed, coating them in a thick layer of it.
“You want to come like a bad girl?”
The prospect of an orgasm was too tempting to back away from. I should have been more apprehensive, but I was so aroused that I couldn’t think of anything other than the sweet release that I needed so much.
“Please let me come,” I begged.
His fingertips lingered in the remains of his seed for a long moment until he pulled them away. He used his free hand to part my bottom cheeks and a squeal of panic escaped me.
He couldn’t mean to…
No… He wouldn’t.
He would.
Vicious shock barreled through me the moment his slickened fingertips pressed against it. I froze, but then he forced a single finger inside me before I could do anything to stop it. My muscles clenched around him, and cruel agony radiated deep in my core, hurtling up and down my spine with savage intensity.
I keened.
He pumped that single finger in and out of my bottom ruthlessly. It hurt. It felt wonderful. At a punishing pace, he fucked my bottom with his finger so hard that it stung. I tried to squirm forward and escape him, but he didn’t let me. His other hand grasped the side of my hip, holding me in place so that he could punish me more mercilessly than before.
I cried out. I moaned.
My hips rocked, trying to escape him, and inadvertently rubbing against the rough blanket beneath me.
His fingers moved faster, more punishing and more terrible, and my body reacted in kind. Heat spiraled through my system with ruthless abandon and nothing I could do or think would make it stop. My pussy grew even wetter, my need greater, and I cried out.
It sounded like a strangled moan.
I shouldn’t like this. I shouldn’t want to come like this. Having his fingers in my bottom was wrong, right? It felt dirty and wicked and entirely too taboo, but I wanted more of it.
I should want it to stop, and I didn’t.
When I opened my lips, I told myself I was going to tell him this was wrong, but I didn’t say that either.
“Please. Harder,” I begged.
“Such a bad little girl. Are you going to come for me?”
My entire body shuddered with raw need. His finger pumped inside me faster. It hurt, but it aroused me even more. My body started moving of its own accord, lewdly riding the tree. I imagined it was his cock, rocking my hips back and forth in a way that teased my clit enough to drive me wild.
I cried out, rising higher and higher until I finally approached the edge.
“Come hard, my bad little girl.”
My body rocketed toward orgasm as if his words had been all I’d needed all along. My core imploded, squeezing so tight that I screamed.
I came so hard that I saw stars.
I tried not to think that it was because his finger was in my bottom, but I failed. My inner walls fluttered hard, almost as if they were frustrated that another hole was being filled instead.
Blinded by white-hot bliss, my legs trembled. In front of me, my fingers dug into the tree trunk, clawing on for balance and support. My hips writhed back and forth, practically riding his finger as I came for him.
When my orgasm finally began to fade, I slumped over the tree.
“Thank you, sir,” I whispered, enjoying the buzzing satisfaction as it made its way through every limb.
“We’re not done, bad girl,” he demanded.
Before I knew what was happening, he thrust a second finger into my bottom. At once, the burning stretch caught me off guard. It was hot, terrible, and so wrong it was right. His other hand slipped beneath me, cupping my overly sensitive clit. Overwhelming sensation hurtled through me, and I tried to lift my pussy away from his hand, but I only succeeded in taking his fingers deeper in my bottom.
I whimpered, the burning stretch hurting more than before. My muscles tightened reflexively, which only made the cruel agony worse. I tried to force myself to relax, but it was impossible no matter how hard I tried.
Eventually, the pain crested, and I sucked in a breath. What was happening?
“Wait! I already came,” I begged. I hadn’t expected him to keep going. Was he not going to stop now?
“Bad girls come the hardest when their tightest hole is sore,” he warned.
A vicious spike of fear drove through me straight down to my clit. His fingers danced over my pussy with merciless intent. I couldn’t escape them. No matter how I squirmed, lifted my hips, or rocked them back and forth, his fingers were there inside a place they weren’t supposed to be.
Real fear simmered deep inside my core. I knew that he’d made me come more than once before, but this time felt different.
This next orgasm was going to be a part of my punishment. I whimpered at the realization and then he fucked me with his fingers even more fiercely. I cried out. My orgasm rose unabated, and I shuddered. It was like waiting for a hurricane to hit knowing that there was nowhere to hide.
It started in the tips of my toes, rolling up through my legs. When it finally crept into my core, it billowed out and every muscle in my body went rigid.
I couldn’t escape his fingers on my clit. With almost rabid intensity, they glided over my clit and forced me over the precipice despite everything inside me fighting against it.
I screamed.
My body clenched tight, causing fierce volleys of agony to radiate around my asshole. He didn’t stop fucking my bottom. Somehow, it got faster and more painful and that made me come that much harder.
He’d been right.
Euphoria the likes of which I’d never known took hold of me. I arched my back, took his fingers deeper, riding his hand harder in the process. I screamed and moaned, writhing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed into me.
There was no escaping even a second of powerful ecstasy like this. Delicious pain seared through me. I suffered through it as much as I enjoyed it.
I closed my eyes, trying to keep myself together. All of a sudden, a falling sensation hurtled through me, and I gasped, losing myself in the endless chasm of merciless passionate desire. There was no fighting it.
A single tear dripped down my cheek. Another followed.
I wasn’t sure why I was crying. All I knew was that it wasn’t from the pain, but maybe from the soul-shattering intensity of coming so hard in the first place.
His hands drew away as I started to sob. His arms were suddenly around me, cocooning me in their warmth and lifting me off the log. He sat down and gathered me in his lap. I curled into his chest, pressing my tear-streaked face into the crook of his neck. The warmth of his embrace surrounded me, letting me know that it was all over and that I was safe, if a bit sore.
My clit pounded hard at the thought.