“I don’t want to do this movie anymore,” she said, stopping dead in the babbling stream, her boots soaked through. “I’m just going to sell everything and move to a ranch in Montana.”
Paul stopped ahead of her and looked back with a crooked smile. “Is that right,” he said. “Giving up after less than an hour?”
“Yeah,” she said. “What are you going to do about it?”
It was a rhetorical question. She didn’t really expect an answer, but she got one anyway.
“I’m going to cut a switch from one of these trees and whip your butt,” Paul said without missing a beat. “You don’t have a choice, Chloe,” he explained. “The last choice you made was the choice to come here and put yourself in my hands. Do you understand?”
Chloe scowled at him. She did not at all appreciate the tone that seemed to imply she was either simple or silly or both.
“I can always change my mind,” she said. “I’ll just go to those men. They’ll take me back home. They’ll have no choice.”
“Those men will put you in a cell until they find me. Didn’t you read the terms of your contract, Chloe? I wasn’t playing when I said you’re mine for the next two weeks. There’s no way out of this.”
Of course she hadn’t read the contract. She never read the contract. That was Chase’s job.
“That can’t be legally binding.”
“Yes and no. You quit on this and they’ll bring in another actress. You’ll go back to your spoiled, shallow life; the life you were so desperate to get out of, you threw your career under the bus.”
He wasn’t being very nice, and he also wasn’t playing. She didn’t know how he was so perceptive, but then again, he wasn’t really saying anything hundreds of people weren’t saying on the internet. The comments on articles about her revealed a widespread bent of the psychoanalytic kind. Chloe had read about how she was a narcissist, a borderline, a bitch, and everything in between. Those comments didn’t hurt as much as Paul saying she’d had a spoiled, shallow life.
“Why don’t you fuck off and judge someone else,” she scowled. “You’ve got no right to talk to me like that. This was a stupid idea. And you can’t make me do a damn thing I don’t want to do.”
There was a smooth sound as a knife was flicked from its case. Chloe stood on the bank of the river and watched as Paul made good on his threat and cut a long, whippy branch from one of the nearby trees.
“You’re not going to use that on me,” she told him defiantly. “No way am I going to let you…” Her voice trailed off as she headed back into the water with Paul following after her, stripping the smaller twigs from the main branch.
His legs were so much longer than hers, and the slippery, watery rocks made a getaway pretty difficult. Paul caught up to her before she reached the other side of the river, his strong hand gripping her wrist and hauling her out the other side.
Her shriek made him clamp his hand over her mouth and pull her hard against his body.
“Be quiet,” he growled in her ear. “We don’t have good enough of a lead for you to go screaming around the hills.”
“Then let me go,” she said in a muffled voice.
“The only place you’re going is over my knee,” he said, moving them both toward a large flat rock at the riverside. He sat upon it and managed to manhandle her over one thigh, her head just inches from the ground, her hands supporting her against the mossy rocks.
Paul wasted no time pulling her leggings and thong down in one easy motion. His arm was wrapped around her waist in a tight locking embrace that made it impossible to get free. This time wasn’t anything like the first time he’d spanked her. There was no tender patting, no gentle introduction. There was just the quick swishing sound of the switch and then a sudden burst of sting in a thin line across her backside.
Her resulting squeal earned her another stroke of the lash and a stern censure from Paul. “Quiet,” he said. “They’ll hear you.”
It was so, so deeply unfair. To be lashed with a piece of tree and to be expected to remain stoically quiet and accepting of the punishment! The switch landed again, this time it somehow landed across the first two strokes, creating two burning nodes of heat and pain where all three intersected.
“Cute, but keep it down,” Paul reminded her. “Cover your mouth if you have to.”
“I hate you,” she informed him with a snarling voice. Her backside was aflame, she was perched precariously over his thigh, she was embarrassed, she was sore, her pride was in tatters, and he expected her to make his life easier. “Let me up,” she said, “or I’ll scream and we’ll both get caught.”
The threat did not go down well. The lash landed six times in quick, hard succession. She opened her mouth to scream, but he reached down with the arm that had kept her locked over his thighs and covered her mouth instead as she bucked and flailed, somehow keeping her bare bottom in perfect position for yet more ruthless cuts of the switch.
Intense, concentrated sting broke her resolve to disobey. As the lash landed for what felt like the dozenth time, she began to whimper and plead in much softer tones.
“Please… Paul… I’ll be good…”
She didn’t know quite what words he wanted to hear, but those were the first ones that came to mind.
“Being good means not complaining, means following my orders, means not being a spoiled little brat,” he lectured harshly.
She had never seen this side of Paul before. He was a demanding disciplinarian. All the niceness of their initial meetings had faded into a hard, demanding presence that didn’t allow for any kind of misbehavior.
By the time he righted her and allowed her to pull her leggings up over her sore bottom, she was flushed from top to toe. It was more confusing than it had been painful. From the beginning, she’d found it difficult to get a read on Paul, and now there was even more to try to understand. Her heart was pounding, perhaps from the struggle of being spanked that way, but more so from a rushing of emotions that were too powerful and swift to name.
“We have to get moving,” he said, his eyes running over her in an appraising fashion. “Ready?”
She nodded, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. It was running for some reason, as were her eyes. Some people might have said she was crying, but Chloe refused to cry in that moment. She wanted to, but her acting training was good for one thing—hiding one emotion behind another. Maybe she wasn’t strong. Maybe she wasn’t ready. But she could pretend to be.
“Let’s go,” he said, waving her on. “There’s a spot with some shelter about half an hour from here. We’ll make camp for the night.”
It wasn’t even close to nightfall, but the prospect of making camp cheered Chloe up. It shouldn’t have. An hour of tramping with a sore butt was not fun. She didn’t dare complain again in case he decided to whip her ass.
She wanted to feel bitter and angry toward him, but weirdly that wasn’t actually how she felt. She felt sort of safe, and surprised. Nobody else on earth would dare to do what he’d done to her, she was pretty sure of that. Most guys treated her like a goddess. Paul treated her like she was very much earthbound, just a girl like any other. He’d spanked her because that was the way he dealt with bratty women under his command. It had been so long since she was treated ‘normally’ that being normal was almost more disconcerting than being punished.
Chloe followed in his footsteps, putting one foot in front of the other until finally he called a halt. They had not spoken since the thrashing he’d handed out to her, and Chloe wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to him anyway. By the time he stopped, her mood had deteriorated into a deep and profound sulk. She would do as he said, but she didn’t have to like it—and she definitely didn’t have to be nice to him.
The sheltered spot turned out to be a thicket surrounded by thorny bushes, and a couple of tall trees overhead. It was cooler, thanks to the shade of the trees, which did provide some kind of relief. Paul put his pack down and began setting up a small tent. Chloe dumped hers down on the ground and followed after it, sitting cross-legged in the dirt. It wasn’t totally comfortable, thanks to the stripes on her bottom, but she didn’t want to make any sound of discomfort that would let him know she was feeling it.
“How long were you planning on sulking for?” The question came out of the silence.
Chloe didn’t dignify the question with a response.
Paul went back to work, doing whatever it was. She ignored him pointedly as the sun slowly sank ever closer to the horizon.
She was starving. But answering him would mean talking to him, and she definitely wasn’t talking to him. He’d just have to get used to the fact he couldn’t control absolutely everything. If she didn’t want to talk to him, she didn’t…
Chloe let out a yelp as she was picked up more or less by the scruff of her neck. He sat down on a fallen log against which he’d pitched the tent and held her in his lap. Damn, he was strong. He didn’t have the steroid physique some actors had, but she was willing to bet he was stronger than any action hero. In one casual movement, he’d proved that he could handle her as easily as he could a kitten.
That didn’t stop Chloe from struggling against her surprise capture. Not that it did her any good. His arms wrapped around her waist as she wriggled, making muted sounds of protest.
“Let me go!”
“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not going to have you sulk your way through this. A bad attitude can be dangerous. It means you’re distracted by your own negative thoughts. That could get you killed in a war zone.”
“This isn’t a war zone. It’s a park.”
She looked at him with ferocious rebellion and saw nothing but firm determination in his gaze. They locked eyes in a silent battle of wills, conversation taking place on a deeper, biological level.
The light exertion hadn’t taken any real toll on Paul, but she could smell his scent. His sweat. It should have grossed her out, but somehow he smelled good. Masculine. Attractive. She felt that traitorous little trickle of arousal starting up again between her thighs and willed it to stop. It ignored her.
“What am I going to have to do to you to improve this mood of yours, hmm?”
The question, drawled close to her ear, sent little tremors through her flesh. What he would have to do, he would never do. He’d already turned her down. He was too professional. Too strict. Too by the book. His hands were on her hips now, holding her locked in place, stopping her from squirming. She hadn’t even noticed how much she was wriggling around until moving was no longer an option.
“Nothing, huh?” His hand shifted a little and his long fingers were angled down toward her crotch. There was nothing untoward about it, but the feeling of his hand so close to her sensitive regions after all he’d already done made her clit throb.
It wasn’t fair how much he turned her on, or how easily he did it.
“Stop teasing me.”
“Who says I’m teasing you?”
She shifted on his lap and felt a hard ridge pressing against the soft round of her cheek. His hardness. He was erect. Chloe looked at him in surprise and found his eyes focused on her, his pupils dilated with desire as he gazed at her.
He was a military doctor. She was a famous starlet. But those were just labels that distracted from what they really were. A man and a woman, alone in the wild with nothing between them but a few fragile scraps of cloth.
Instinct had more sway out here with nothing but rocks and trees and flowing water to witness them. Their mouths drew closer and before Chloe knew what had happened, his lips were on hers, firm and warm. He was kissing her, and she was kissing him back. Her lips parted to allow him entrance to her mouth even as her thighs spread and his hand slid down to cup her mound. She felt his powerful fingers press hard against the sensitive lips, holding her tight and secure as his kiss became deeper and more possessive, his tongue lashing hers into submission on and on until her head began to swim and her breath grew short.
Paul broke the kiss, but kept hold of her between her legs.
“You look happier already,” he noted with a rakish smile. “I think I should fuck you.”
The rough, almost brutish words startled her a little.
His hand squeezed her mound, then patted it lightly. “I think I should fuck this naughty pussy. What do you think?”
She’d never been asked the question so bluntly before. Chloe could barely believe what she was hearing.
He began massaging her between her thighs with little circles of his hand that left her in no doubt as to his intent. He’d already made her come with her panties though, so maybe this was just another tease, another distraction. That didn’t stop it from feeling good. And it didn’t stop him from pausing for a moment, putting his hands to the waistband of her leggings and thong and pulling them down over her bottom, shimmying them down her thighs and leaving them around her knees. She was hobbled by her own clothing as he slid his hand back between her legs and found the wet, willing center of her body.
She let out a little moan as he began to kiss her again, his seduction devastatingly effective and swift in equal measure. There was the sound of the fly of his pants sliding down, and then she felt his cock pressing against her bare butt cheek. She was sitting across his lap and the position didn’t allow him to push it inside her, but it did allow him to sink two fingers into the hot welling tightness of her pussy and begin thrusting in and out with a slow, pumping motion that left her moaning into his mouth.
Paul knew precisely how she was constructed. He knew that her pussy needed to be filled, he knew that the tight little bud of her clit wanted to rub against the heel of his hand. His mouth left hers and he placed a swift love bite on the back of her neck as she writhed against his hand, feeling his fingers going as deep as they could go… but not deep enough.
“Please…” she moaned softly, “please…”
“Tell me what you want…”
She reached back and let her fingers wrap around the shaft of his cock. He was thick and he was long, and he was very hard.
Paul let out a soft growl, picked her up, and slid her down to the ground on her hands and knees, one hand in the back of her hair to keep her in place as he rose up behind her, pushed the large swollen head of his cock to the apex of her thighs, and slid into her pussy in one long, forceful stroke that filled her all the way up.
Chloe let out a cry of surprise and desire as she felt herself spread open around his hard flesh, taken in a primal, dominant way she’d never experienced before. Paul’s fingers tightened at the nape of her neck as he began to ride her, thrusting long and slow in and out of her tight pussy, drawing his dick almost all the way out of her before plunging it back as deep as it could go.
“Is this what you needed? You sexy little brat?” His question was growled down at her, half adoring, half lecturing as he fucked her.
“Yes!” There was no point lying. Her body was screaming yes, and her lips wanted to scream the same word too. Being taken from behind had never been one of her favorite positions. It had always felt a little too impersonal. She usually tried to be on top, but Paul had her well in hand and there was nothing impersonal about the way his hot, long cock was sliding in and out of her tight pussy.
He reached around her, cupped her chin with his fingers, and pressed his thumb into her mouth. She suckled dutifully, not knowing what he was doing until he pulled it out of her mouth and put the pad of his now nice and wet thumb to her anus.
She squealed and tried to move forward, but the grip in her hair kept her in place, impaled on his cock as he started toying with her bottom in a way that lacked all of the medical plausibility of their first such encounter.
“Next time you disobey orders, you’ll take my cock here,” he warned, sounding stern and strict. His cock was pulsing deep inside her cunt, and at that moment Chloe would have agreed to almost anything. Everything felt good. She was high on arousal, caught in an erotic haze that made her want to be as submissive as he was dominant.
He started to fuck her harder, his cock pistoning inside her wet channel, the sounds of her juices soaking his rod mingling with the babbling of the stream, her moans, and his more masculine growls of pleasure. His thumb stayed pressed against her anus, reminding her of his dominion over that part of her too.
Chloe came hard, her pussy clenching his cock. She heard Paul let out a strained growl behind her, the effort of riding her through her climax without giving into his own orgasm almost too much. He wouldn’t come inside her, would he? The thought gave extra charge to the pleasure rolling through her tender flesh. She felt like every nerve ending in her body was flashing with erotic fire, her muscles clenching hard and then relaxing with the pulsing waves of her climax. And through it all, Paul’s cock slid in and out of her, the hard rod pounding her through to an elevated state in which the world seemed to drop away entirely and she no longer cared about anything. Not the gritty leaves and twigs beneath her clenching fingers, not the way her knees were pressed against the dirt, not her discomfort or the residual sting on her bottom where the lines of her switching were tingling. For one glorious moment, she was free of everything. Most of all, she was free of herself.
Being able to let the stress of the fame and the fall from grace go was almost better than the physical pleasure that was still coursing through her as Paul reached his own peak, pulled out of her pussy, and held her in place with one hand on her hip as his cum came spurting over her bottom, marking her as his.
“Good girl,” he praised, the two simple words making her feel warm deep inside. He wrapped his arms around her and picked her up, cradling her in his lap. His cum still decorated her bottom, making her skin sticky against his thighs, but he didn’t seem to mind and she was beyond that kind of concern.
Slowly, the erotic haze faded from her mind, and slowly, Chloe realized that a boundary had been crossed. A big one. She’d wanted him so badly, but now her desires had been satisfied, she found herself filled with anxiety. He’d refused to have sex with her earlier; why now? Had she baited him into it? What did it mean?
“I’m not… a slut.”
Her words made his brows lift in surprise. “I didn’t say you were.”
“But maybe you thought it?”
“I didn’t think it either.”
“We barely know each other and I’ve been…” She trailed off. “I slept with you. I just don’t usually do that. And I know everyone says that they don’t, even if they do, but I really don’t and I don’t know why I did…”
“You needed it,” he said, sitting up and pulling her into his lap. She sat, cradled between his crossed legs as he reassured her. “And it’s okay to need contact.”
“That was more than contact,” she said with a little smile half hidden against his broad chest.
“It was, but I think you needed it like you need discipline. Not just the kind where you get your butt warmed and it’s all over. You need more than that. You need to be commanded in every way. You need to have me inside you. To belong to me. You crave it, don’t you, Chloe?”
“Yes,” she admitted softly, her lips against his. She wanted him with everything she was. It felt to her as though there wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t want to touch him, be held by him, be owned by him.
The connection between them was as passionate and intense as it was swift. She’d felt it the moment she met him but not known what it was. She’d thought it was simple lust, but it was so much more than that. It was a desire that was coming from deep in her soul.
She belonged to this man. It wasn’t an abstract concept. It wasn’t a fanciful idea. It was a truth so deep it may as well have been embedded in her DNA.
He kept her in that close embrace, their eyes meeting for a timeless moment in which the sun and the stars spun around them in a dance that no longer mattered. Chloe felt an intensity of existence, an excitement and happiness that flooded her body from head to toe and made her voice tremble and her hands shake, her knees so weak she was fortunate his strong arms were able to keep her aloft.
“You also need to eat,” Paul murmured in her ear. “I have one of those sandwiches. Do you want it now?”
“Yes, please,” she said, humbled. The food she’d refused hours earlier now sounded like manna from heaven.
She heard him rifling around behind her, and then his hand appeared in her face with one of the sandwiches. This time it turned out to be ham and cheese. Though it was not any more appetizing than the one she’d tried earlier that day, she wolfed it down in under a minute. Her hunger was much sharper than it ever had been before. Back at home she could skip meals and not notice, but out here, her body was demanding that she feed it. The emotional and physical stress were already starting to take a toll, and she hadn’t even been out there for twelve hours.
As soon as she finished her sandwich, sating another need, she realized just how heavy her eyelids were. She could easily have fallen asleep in his lap, but Paul had other ideas. He unrolled two sleeping bags, zipped them together, and they both slipped inside. It was a tight fit, their barely clad bodies pressed together against the warm surround of the bag.
Stuffed in the bag, Chloe felt like one of the vacuum-packed sandwiches, all snugly contained with Paul’s strong body wrapped around her, his arm snaking over her waist, pulling her back against the strong, sheltering curve of his body. She usually slept alone and at first didn’t think she’d be able to sleep like that, but again her body surprised her by settling in to sleep with far less trouble than she usually had at home.
Some flight of fancy made her imagine that this was how women must have felt in the very old days, before civilization, before cities and governments, when all anyone had was their strength and their wits. Some primal part of her was moved by the situation in a way she’d never been moved before. At first she’d been attracted to Paul because he was handsome. Now she was attracted to him because he felt like her protector. He was making parts of her feel safe that had never felt safe. She closed her eyes and let her body sink back into his as sleep took her through the night without waking once.
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