To start this story I will tell you about three young women. I could describe them in painstaking detail: the beautiful dresses they wore; their earrings, large and fanciful on one, missing on another; their skin soft and smooth, pale, bronzed and dark; their voices; their hair; and so much more. But I won’t. I won’t even tell you their names. Except for one, only one of these women is really important in this story anyway. Her name is Emma. Emma is the one in the long red dress that hugs her hips yet hangs loosely around her legs, nearly reaching the dirty cobblestones of the shopping street. She is the one with the long brown hair, stuck up in a knot now, though usually it hangs loosely over her shoulders; her husband prefers it that way. She is the one with the silver earrings that are not nearly as large as her friend’s and a silver necklace, sort of like an amulet; the unknowing observer would compare it to a yin and yang symbol, but with three parts instead of two. She is the palest of the three and she is wearing a hat with a wide brim to protect her sensitive skin from the sun.
Emma is the main character in this story and now that you know her from her friends, I can tell you more about them and what they were talking about. I could tell you all about the subjects women talk about when they are not around men or gossiping about them. I could tell you about Emma’s day at work, about her friend’s tuition, about their favourite place to eat or that new fancy bar that just opened. But I won’t. This story is not just about Emma, it is also about a man and these three women did talk about him. Before I tell you more about him however, let’s listen in on the conversation Emma was having with her friends.
It was a warm day in the spring and Emma and her friends were out together, just to have a drink and visit some of their favourite stores. The weather was finally turning for the better and the three women sat outside a local bar enjoying their beverages.
“That’s so romantic.” One of Emma’s friends exclaimed, a hint of jealousy clearly present on her face. “I don’t think we’ve ever been out for a picnic like that.” Emma had just told them about her husband’s plans for the coming weekend. They were going to a nearby nature reserve, a large forest with many secluded, romantic spots to be discovered.
“What do you think he will make?” Her other friend asked before she could reply.
A slow smile crossed Emma’s face. “He asked me to prepare the food.” She said. “I was thinking about some French baguettes, cheese and some sausages; possibly a fruit salad as well.” A look of disappointment crossed her friends face as she told them her husband wasn’t preparing the food for their date himself. Still they were quickly smiling again, to them it still seemed like a more romantic date than they’d ever had for themselves. They didn’t know what would really happen of course.
Emma blushed slightly at the thought and had to fight it down before she turned so red that she would have to explain her wandering mind. This trip to the woods wouldn’t be their first and it wasn’t a date, not specifically. You got asked on a date, this was more of a … summons.
For now however, with her friends, Emma could pretend it was just a romantic outing with her husband, she could forget for a while what was actually waiting for her out there.
This was how Emma spent her day with her friends. They talked about many things unimportant to this story, but every once in a while, something reminded Emma about her little secret. The truth is that Emma was enjoying herself. She enjoyed the feeling of naughtiness that came with keeping this secret, the chance of being caught out no matter how small.
Maybe an hour before the three women sat down to drink, they had visited a small store that sold everything from kitchen utensils to gardening supplies, all in wood, glass or metal. Emma had wanted to buy a new wooden spoon, possibly for that fruit salad she would make for their picnic. The store had many wooden spoons in different shapes and sizes, but even for a selection this large, Emma took a very long time to make her choice. If her friends hadn’t known her so well – known that Emma always had trouble deciding what she wanted – they might have wondered at this. They should have, because this spoon was not going to be used in any kind of salad.
This afternoon that Emma spent with friends is not really important to my story either. I’m just telling you about it to show you how Emma was looking forward to what is to come. Despite what you might think when you hear the rest of the story, you must understand the anticipation Emma felt to these events. Emma obeyed this ‘summons’ willingly; she chose this wooden spoon knowing its purpose; she couldn’t wait for her husband to take her out to the woods. She couldn’t wait for him to punish her.
But more about that later. Let me tell you about Emma’s husband, Perrin. He is the second main character in this story, as you might have guessed. Now please forget what I just said about Emma’s near future, it might give you the wrong impression on the kind of person Perrin really is. I would call Perrin an ordinary guy, though he would find the term insulting. He believes nobody should want to be ordinary. Yet his life would seem exactly that for the casual observer: he’s a married man, works five days a week, recently bought a house with his wife and spends his free time on a few hobbies or just simply watching TV.
Of course, anyone who knows Perrin would know these things, they’re not very interesting for this story. So let me tell you something very few people know. Perrin enjoys dominating his wife. He enjoys setting rules for her to follow. He enjoys setting tasks for her. He enjoys controlling what she does or what she wears. But most of all he enjoys punishing or rewarding her for the things she did or did not do.
I feel I should explain that Perrin does not enjoy these things because he feels in any way superior to Emma. You will find a lot of stories and histories about the superiority of men over women, but neither I nor Perrin believe in such a thing. In fact, Perrin enjoys his dominion over Emma because they are equals. Emma’s submission to him, is – by its very nature – a gift that can only be given by an equal. If you understand this, you will understand and agree with them, that there is nothing wrong with the parts they play in their relationship.
Understanding this simple thing about Perrin should show that he’s not so ordinary after all, as the rest of this story will undoubtedly prove.
I hope you’re not getting impatient with me. I understand the urge to get to the so-called ‘juicy’ parts of this story. But just like that which Perrin and Emma are set out to do during their picnic trip; a story is well served by a healthy dose of anticipation. Don’t worry, we’ll get there soon enough. First however, a story needs a build-up, some background information, something to prepare its listeners for what is to come. So let me first tell you a little bit more about Perrin and about the way he prepared for their ‘date’.
You might think a punishment is just that: a punishment. But Perrin could take his wife across his knee any day of the week to spank her bottom. No, once in a while she needed just that little more: an experience she wouldn’t easily forget, something to remind her who was in charge, something to enforce her submissive mind-set. Perrin would prepare well for these occasions. Some men go to lengths to surprise their wives and girlfriends, to arrange the perfect romantic date. Perrin showed his devotion to Emma in much the same way, with the exception that which he prepared was a disciplinary session.
Perrin would often write his wife a letter, carefully detailing not only the bad, but also the good he had noticed in Emma’s behaviour. He would decide on which implements he would use: the hairbrush, his belt, the leather whip, the riding crop, … He would decide how long he would spank her and how hard. He would consider having her stand in the corner, tying her up, gagging her or using any other form of punishment fitting the many crimes she had committed since their last session. He would decide whether she deserved a reward. He could pleasure her or just demand pleasure for himself with none in return. He could fuck her or they could make love. He could make her beg or be generous. Perrin would imagine and prepare into the smallest of details.
This is what he did for this session as well. These things rarely go as planned however and thus I will not tell you about any of his preparation or how Emma’s sassy mouth earned her much more than Perrin had initially planned.
With Perrin’s preparation to be ignored and Emma having already picked out the food and a new wooden spoon, it is time for the actual story to commence. Perhaps one more thing first. You might be wondering why Emma so desperately wanted a wooden spoon to take along on their picnic. The answer is simple of course and you might have guessed it when I told you Perrin liked setting tasks for her. Just like he had ordered her to prepare the food, he had ordered her to make sure to fit a spanking implement in the picnic basket as well. There had of course, never been any doubt between the two of them on the real purpose of their trip to the woods.
They made the trip by car and on the road the anticipation Emma felt had reached a boiling point. She fidgeted in her seat as the skin of her body tingled all over, her breasts, her buttocks, her thighs and everywhere in between. “Sit still.” Perrin commanded. “Don’t make me stop by the side of the road for a little preview.”
Emma huffed, but did her best to keep quiet. She had seen the grin on Perrin’s face – it had been hard to miss – she knew he enjoyed teasing her like this. Still, she was never sure whether or not he meant such threats. He would surely not spank her in such a public setting. She wasn’t sure she didn’t want him to, but for now she’d rather not find out. From the corner of her eye she saw the picnic basket on the back-seat, inside was the brand new wooden spoon she’d bought. Unconsciously she pressed her legs together and rubbed the sides of her thighs. Perrin changed to the outer lane and slowed down. “Sorry, sorry.” Emma said quickly in a startled voice. Perrin just laughed out loud and picked up speed again. Emma did her very best not to stick out her tongue.
You’ll be happy to hear Emma and Perrin reached the forest without further incident – or maybe not, if you were hoping for an actual preview to the story. A small dirt-road led them right to the edge of the woods, three more cars were parked in a field and several trails led off into the forest. I could tell you know how they took the most obscure of these paths, to make sure they wouldn’t be bothered; how they walked a long way in the shade of trees and enjoyed the fresh air and the sound of birds and mammals. But I will not. Just like Perrin, I have teased you long enough, so I will skip to the part where they found a small clearing in the forest, where sunlight fell through an opening in the canopy, left by a large tree fallen during a storm long ago and where soft grass grew on the forest floor beneath their feet.
It was the perfect spot and Perrin gestured for Emma to hand him the picnic basket. It was time for that which they had really come here to do. He placed the basket near the fallen tree and opened it. It was nearly empty now, they had already eaten. The wooden spoon however was still clean and unused, he placed it on the baskets lid and looked at his wife standing just a few steps away. She wore a thin blouse for the warm weather and a fine skirt reaching just to her knees. Her legs were bare, not ideal to go trudging through a forest, but it was at his request, trousers would just get in the way of the things he had in mind. There were some traces of red where the undergrowth had snapped at her lower legs. With a grin Perrin decided that could serve as part of the experience. The only thing slightly spoiling the picture where the heavy walking shoes she was allowed to wear. But then again, those just served as a reminder that she had accepted – by her own free will – to walk all this way, just for her punishment. “You know why we are here.” Perrin said, it wasn’t really a question.
“Yes.” Emma replied. She looked at the same time abashed and yet proud.
“Do you want me to explain again why you need to be disciplined?” Perrin asked. “Or do you remember all the things you’ve done or forgotten, all the rules you’ve broken since the last time you found yourself in this position?”
Emma blushed but bravely replied: “I’m sure I’ll remember while I’m across your knee.”
Perrin grinned at her cheeky answer, he could make her account for it, but he had made her – made himself – wait long enough. It was time he got what he wanted. He sat down on the fallen tree and reached out with his hand. “Ok.” He said. “Come here.”
Emma did not blush, she did not hesitate, she didn’t do any of the things other girls might do when they are about to be spanked. She had been waiting for this just as long as Perrin had. She wanted this just as much as he did. She let him guide her across his lap. It was not until he slowly lifted her skirt, baring her bottom to the touch of his hand that she felt a slight hint of apprehension. She could never really forget how much one of his spankings could actually hurt.
Before I tell you how Perrin’s hand reddened his wife’s bottom, how Emma kicked and squealed; let me first tell you in more detail about the position she found herself in. Now that she’s still mostly composed. Face down across Perrin’s knee, Emma couldn’t see more than a few tree trunks in front of her, appearing out from the undergrowth. Her hands were resting in the soft grass, she could smell it: the grass and the forest. The only sound she could hear was the twittering of birds in the treetops far above her. Perrin was like an unyielding bench beneath her hips, she could already feel his excitement in his growing erection against her lower belly. His one hand rested on her lower back, holding her in place firmly even though she wasn’t trying to escape … yet. The other hand rested loosely on her left buttocks, it felt warm, but so did the warm forest air. When that hand took down her panties, all the way to her ankles, she was very much aware of where the air touches previously covered skin. Skin that was now exposed to anyone who might pass their way. It was enough to make her blush, even though she knew chances were slim anything else than a squirrel would be watching.
Perrin savoured that moment before the first smack fell. His hand caressed his wife’s bare bottom. Right now, she was completely under his control. He felt a kind of perverse satisfaction in the sensual act of tracing her curves with his fingers. She had accepted his power over her because she deserved to be disciplined. But instead he could take advantage of her to satisfy his sexual desires by touching her so intimately. Of course, spanking her would be just as satisfying and thus he raised his hand. Emma raised her bottom expectantly and Perrin let it come down with a soft smack.
He did not hit her very hard, not at all, and Emma’s moan was one of disappointment if anything. But today Perrin wanted her to last. His hand moved quickly, the smacks alternating between her buttocks, making sure he didn’t miss an inch of her voluptuous bottom, but never smacking her hard enough that it would actually sting. Emma’s bottom was raised high, begging him for more, enjoying the sensation brought by his gentle hand. Perrin could see her exciting building, he could see the hidden wetness between her legs, he could nearly smell it. He knew she’d have to wait a long time before he’d let her have what she desired. It was time to put some more force into his swing.
Emma bit her lips to stop her moaning as the gentle spanking increase a hundred-fold the tingling sensation she’d been feeling all day. After a while she forgot why she was there, about the punishment that awaited her. She could only enjoy the arousal brought by her husband’s hand. It was at that moment that the first stinging smack landed.
It didn’t hurt, it was still softer than much she had experienced in the past. But the soft sting spreading through her buttocks was a preview of what was to come, a reminder of why she was face down across her husband’s knee. All she wanted right now was for him to touch her intimately once more and let her cum. Instead a second stinging smack hit her other buttocks. Emma groaned dutifully, letting her husband know she had felt the difference in force. She also knew full well this would only encourage him to keep going.
Each smack on her bottom came slower now, there was a longer build-up for each smack and more force behind each of them. The tingling sensation in her bottom was replaced by a soft stinging one. Still, she did not feel naughty yet, this wasn’t yet a punishment, it was much too enjoyable for that.
When Perrin’s hand stopped to rest on her bottom, she knew he was preparing for another increase in intensity. “That should be enough of a warm-up.” Her husband said. Emma closed her eyes and awaited the first smack.
It came quickly and hard. The sting was many times that of what she had endured up to that point. The sound of it echoed against the trees around them, followed shortly by her yelp of surprise. Emma had little time to be surprised at how hard Perrin could hit her when he really tried. The next few smacks came in a flurry; not as hard as the first, but still enough to graduate the soft sting in her bottom to a fully evolved red hot stinging pain. After this quick but short assault on her bottom Perrin followed up with slow measured strokes, hard and unyielding, nothing like the soft smacks of her warm-up. They came at a speed that gave her just enough time to think between moans and yelps. She thought of the colour of her bottom, it must surely be more than just pink by now. She thought of the echoing sound of each smack, any hikers out there would hear those long before she could hear them approach. She thought of being spanked and the reasons why she, a grown woman, should endure such pain and embarrassment; remembering of course that she had agreed to it willingly; remembering all the rules she’d broken and all misdeeds done.
Perrin swung his arm tirelessly. You would think the repeated motion would tire you out, but Perrin felt he could keep this up for hours if he wanted to. He savoured each smack: the feeling of Emma’s sensitive skin glowing beneath his fingers; the way she moved as he held her down; the sounds she made each time the palm of his hand connected with her bottom. He knew it hurt, he heard it in her moans and yelping. Earlier I told you Perrin enjoyed dominating his wife, but he also enjoys hurting her. It was proof that this was more than a play. His control was absolute even to the point of such physical discomfort. It isn’t even just about control, actually causing the pain and hearing and feeling her reaction to it turned him on. This might sound wrong, but when others like Emma can enjoy receiving pain, why would it be wrong to enjoy being the one giving it? There is of course a limit to this enjoyment. Perrin loves his wife and he can only hurt her so much. In fact, he knows that if he’d ever hurt her for more than she can handle, the guilt he would feel would vastly overwhelm any pleasure he could derive from such an act. But this is yet another reason why he enjoys punishing his wife, how he can test her limits, flirt with the edges of what he can and cannot do and give them both that which they want and need.
And what Emma needed right now was a good firm spanking, so Perrin picked up the pace, no longer giving her that time to think between each smack. Her bottom coloured a wonderful red between his fingers.
Emma crossed her legs as Perrin suddenly increased her punishment once more. She knew he loved it when she squirmed and kicked her legs. He longed for that show of discomfort, that inability to control herself. She wouldn’t give it to him. Not yet.
Her bottom was burning however. It felt like it was on fire and she needed all her concentration to accept what he gave her. She barely made a sound, needing all the breath she could gather in order to breathe. She was not sure of how much more she could take and he hadn’t even picked up the wooden spoon yet. For a moment she feared he might have forgotten. But no, he would not. They’d never used a spoon before, there was no way he would miss the opportunity to experiment with it. This brought another fear however, she had no idea how much it would hurt, or if she could even handle being spanked with a spoon. It had such a tiny zone of impact on such a long handle…
When the smacks stopped, Perrin’s hand felt hot and heavy, resting on her glowing bottom. “Are you okay?” He asked her.
‘No.’ Emma wanted to say. ‘My bottom is on fire.’ But she knew his concern was genuine and not something she should joke about. “Sorry, I was just distracted.” She said.
Perrin softly scratched her sore buttocks with the back of his nails. It was a sensation she both loved and hated, it seemed impossible how much such a simple act could hurt. “I must not be doing my best if you have time to feel distracted.” He said.
“Oh no.” Emma managed after her gasp at the sudden pain. “I was just thinking of the wooden spoon. Wondering when you wanted to use it.”
She felt Perrin bend over to pick it up. He rubbed the smooth wooden end along the top of her buttocks. “I guess I can give the lady what she wants.” She could hear the grin on his face from the tone of his voice.
Perrin used the wooden spoon as an excuse to give Emma a moment to recuperate. The spanking had grown intense and he knew she was close to her limit. He took advantage of the pause to play and tease. He stroked her softly with the spoon, the wood barely touching her skin. He traced the curves of her bright red behind and let it slip down between her buttocks. His eyes followed it to her most intimate areas and noticed the wetness hidden there when his wife raised her bottom in an appreciative motion. It always surprised him how aroused she became from even the most intense spanking, with a bottom so sore and painful. Himself, he had been erect from the moment she’d let herself be draped across his lap.
Perrin had no idea how long he’d been sitting like that, on the fallen tree with his wife across his lap. He had been so absorbed in the act that he had ignored his surroundings. Now, as he let her rest, he looked around. The clean smell of the forest surrounded them, it was eerily quiet now that the sound of the spanking was no longer echoing against the trees. If anyone had heard them before, he wouldn’t have known; if anyone had seen them, he would’ve been too busy to notice. The thought lit a spark of excitement. He had often imagined them being caught and even fantasized about spanking his wife in a more public setting. He would proudly announce that yes: he spanked his wife, she deserved it, she wanted it and trusted him to be fair and just, yet strict when he did. Emma would be embarrassed of course. She should be, embarrassed for her naughty behaviour that got her into so much trouble, embarrassed that she needed her husband to spank her for her misdeeds. Emma enjoyed the threat of being caught, but Perrin was unsure whether she could handle the actual embarrassment of being seen. He respected that and would never take that risk until she indicated otherwise. In the meantime, he took her out here into the forest, where no-one could find them, but where they could both enjoy that feeling of danger. It was time to continue.
While the air had felt warm before, now it felt cool in comparison to her burning behind. As she rested across her husband’s lap and managed to catch her breath, Emma tried to prepare for the second part of her punishment. She knew the worst was yet to come. From what I have told you, you should realize that Emma enjoys these spankings, physically and emotionally. You might wonder then, how they could be in any way useful as a form of discipline.
The truth is they aren’t. Not in the traditional way that punishment is meant to instil fear into you. Emma does not follow her husband’s rules because she is afraid of punishment. She follows his rules because she wants to. She submits to him because it turns her on, it turns him on, it makes him happy just as it makes her happy. The discipline is not meant to make her fear; it is meant to encourage her to try harder. The traditional form of discipline would prove its shortcomings after a few repeats, if she hadn’t improved her behaviour after a couple of spankings, she never would. But no matter how much you improved, there is always room for more and more encouragement besides. Those encouragements could be harsh and painful lessons, or long and sensual sessions. No matter how well she behaved, she’d get them eventually. But when she tried her best, they were more enjoyable then when she didn’t. That’s how they worked.
When Perrin lifted the wooden spoon from her bottom, Emma knew her time for such thoughts was up. Her behaviour hadn’t been too much to her husband’s approval these last few weeks and today’s session would not be without its share of pain. She clenched her teeth and grasped at the grass in front of her as the first stinging smack landed on her already sore behind. Already a lot off the grass had been pulled from the ground where her hands rested.
Unlike Her husband’s hand, the wooden spoon set just a tiny spot in her buttocks ablaze and not her whole buttocks in one single stroke. It was like a single spot that stung just a bit more than the rest. A moment later it was joined by another spot on the other buttocks, stinging even more. Perrin got into a slow rhythm and set the spoon to connect with her bottom harder and harder. He was testing how hard he could swing the new implement before she reacted. Emma knew he wouldn’t stop increasing his force before she made a sound. Bravely she kept still and quiet until over a dozen sharp stinging spots covered her bottom. When she finally let out a soft yelp, she feared she had waited too long. That last smack stung much more than before and from now on she knew her husband would consider this the proper amount of force to use. Before she could chide herself for her stubbornness, a flurry of smacks spread across her bottom. The many stinging spots combined into one fiery stinging sensation that set her legs kicking and made her squeal and curse.
The wooden spoon made a satisfying swishing sound as Perrin swung it. Well he didn’t really swing it, not with his arm like he had when spanking Emma with his bare hand. He made a single motion with his wrist, using the spoons long handle for momentum. It made it easier to land many quick smacks in rapid succession. Which is exactly what he did after he found the best angle and strength to use.
The result couldn’t have been more satisfying. Emma started to kick and struggle, finally losing that last bit of self-control. She had given up control to him when she let herself be put over his lap of course, but Perrin enjoyed exacting every last bit of it, until she was not even in control of her own body. He had wanted to let her rest after that first initial burst of pain. But when he paused, he heard the noises she made were not just grunts and moans, but curses as well. “Emma. Those words are not proper for a young lady. Especially not for one in your current position.” He said.
The kicking and struggling stilled. “I think it’s perfectly normal for someone in my current position.” She replied.
Perrin bit back a laugh and tried to sound stern. “Very well.” he said, it seemed she was ready for more. Now swinging with his elbow, he put a bit more force behind the smacks as he paddled his wife’s bottom with the wooden spoon.
“I’m sorry.” Emma said after her initial surprised yelp. “I didn’t mean that, please wait.”
But Perrin didn’t. Emma knew well enough the risk of her own cheekiness and now she’d have to pay for it. She squealed and howled as he peppered her bottom. She kicked her legs and struggled. But she no longer cursed, she probably needed her breath for these first actual cries of pain.
By the time her husband stopped, Emma was out of breath and no longer able to resist in any way. Had her bottom seemed on fire before? It couldn’t have been anywhere near as hot as it felt now. Her mind switched between a feeling of injustice that she had to let him do these things to her, disbelief that she let him do so again and again; and a promise to herself that she would try harder, would be a better submissive to make sure their next session wouldn’t be this bad. Still, when Perrin told her to stand up, she felt – despite her discomfort, despite the pain, despite knowing she couldn’t possible take any more than what he had given her – a sense of disappointment that it was over.
“Did you learn anything today?” Perrin asked her when she stood in front of him. Her skirt had fallen down and chafed against her sore skin, she winced as she thought of the long walk back.
“Yes, sir.” She replied dutifully.
Perrin smiled. “I guess these next few days we’ll see if that’s true.” He looked her up and down. “Now, get on your knees please.”
Emma’s heart jumped to her throat, but she quickly obeyed her husband’s orders. Almost all sessions ended like this, she would prove to him she was a dutiful submissive. She would pleasure him to thank him for his time and the valuable lessons and encouragement he gave her to help better herself. Truth be told, she loved it. Kneeling in front of him now, she knew exactly what he wanted. She could already feel him in her mouth, already taste him. It was odd that this gave her a sense of power, her ability to pleasure her husband in this way. She was also wrong.
Perrin moved to the side and patted the fallen tree he’d been sitting on. “Bend over.” He said.
Surprised and now unsure of his plans, Emma obeyed.
“Do you remember what I asked you before we started?” Perrin asked her.
“No.” She admitted.
“I asked you whether you remember all the naughty things you’ve done since your previous disciplinary session. Do you remember how you answered?”
A cold realisation dawned on her and Emma shook her head. “Was I cheeky?” She asked.
“You were.” Perrin replied. “And do you know what happens to cheeky girls?”
‘They get chocolate.’ Emma wanted to say. But no, her bottom was already sore and she had promised herself to try harder at following the rules. “They get spanked.” She said meekly, quickly followed by: “I’m sorry.” She didn’t point out that he had already spanked her, that spanking had been planned long before her cheeky reply. This next one was for the things she’d said today.
“They do indeed.” Perrin said as he raised his hand. The rush of excitement he had was almost overwhelming. He had set it all up of course, toying with her head, planning this last bit of her punishment after she would’ve thought it was all over. Ever since he’d seen this fallen log he’d wanted to bend her over it. The arch of her back, the way her red bottom stuck up in the air, it was a perfect way to end it. He used his hand to spank her now, slow and firm smacks. Her bottom was sore and hadn’t had much rest, his wife moaned each time his hand connected with her behind. The sound set his blood boiling and Perrin could no longer help himself. After just a dozen smacks he slid off the tree and knelt behind her. He undid his belt and lowered his trousers. Emma waited patiently until he grabbed her by the hips. After all he had done to her, she was still wet and ready for him. Perrin slipped into her easily. It wasn’t soft sensual love-making. No, Perrin fucked his wife hard, right there on the forest floor, bent over a fallen tree. If her moans are to be believed she enjoyed it just as much as he did.
When he climaxed and his thrusting came to a sudden stop Emma moaned softly, begging for more. “No, not for you.” Perrin said, roughly grabbing her sore buttocks. “You’ll have to earn it first.” He stood up and pulled up his trousers.
Emma stood up as well, rubbing herself against her husband in a hug. “What do I have to do to earn it?” She begged.
Emma looked up pleadingly at her husband, trying her most submissive llok. She was so horny she could barely contain herself, her buttocks were sore, her skirt chafed, her knees were sore as well now and she was wet from his juices between her thighs. She wanted nothing more than his permission to cum.
“You’ll need to prove that you will honestly do your best to improve your behaviour from now on.” Her husband told her. He had a mean grin on his face and Emma realized he wasn’t going to make things easy on her. “Turn around.” He said when Emma did not reply.
Emma turned quickly, showing she could follow orders seemed prudent if she was going to prove herself properly submissive. Perrin rolled up her skirt to her lower back and tucked it behind the elastic, once more exposing her red bottom to the warm air, yet protecting it from the touch of her skirt. “You’ll walk in front of me while we return to the car.” He said. “Whenever you have an errant thought, a desire to do something naughty; or an improper idea; you will stop and ask me: ‘please sir, could you spank me?’ I will carry the spoon and will happily oblige.” Emma’s face turned red as her husband unfolded his plans, but he did not let her interrupt. “If, when we reach the car, I think you’ve been truthful, I will see to it personally that you get a reward.”
Emma blushed and took a few breaths before she could reply. “You can’t punish me for what I’m thinking.” She protested.
Perrin smiled. “I’m not punishing you.” He said. “You’re asking me and I’m just helping.” Then he grinned. “How hard can it be, you can’t possibly be feeling up to any naughtiness so shortly after your recent discipline.”
Emma reached behind her to rub her bottom and with a wince pulled back her hands quickly, reminding herself once more of how recent that had actually been. “Fine.” She said. To tell you the truth, she didn’t want to argue. She loved the idea of walking in front of her husband, proudly displaying her red bottom, knowing he’d only have eyes for her and her swaying walk. She also felt giddy at the idea that a bare-bottomed walk through the forest increased the chances of being caught by a lot. Of course, if they did get caught, all she had to do was pull down her skirt. She just hoped that should that happen, Perrin would still give her the reward he’d promised. He wouldn’t want her to keep her red bottom on display if anyone could see, could he? Doubt, anxiety and excitement ate at her as they made their way back through the forest the way they’d came. They didn’t encounter anyone on their way.
It had slowly grown darker as they found their way out of the forest. To Perrin’s surprise he’d had the pleasure of swinging the wooden spoon at Emma’s bottom another seventeen times. That was a lot more than he’d expected and while he was rewarded with a soft moan for each of them, he couldn’t help but wonder what things his wife had been thinking about when she stopped and asked him: ‘please spank me’.
When they returned to the field where they had parked, he freed Emma’s skirt from its elastic before they walked to their car. Only two vehicles remained, including their own, the other was quite dirty, as if it had been there for a while. “Put your panties back on.” Perrin commanded. “You know the rules for a proper young lady.”
Emma blushed and looked at him expectantly. “Don’t you have them?” She asked.
“Why would I have your panties?” Perrin asked in confusion.
Emma shrugged and a slow blush crept up on her face. Perrin suddenly realized. “You forget them, didn’t you?” He asked.
Emma nodded. “I guess, yes.”
Perrin wanted to laugh but suddenly had a much better idea. “Well that will be an interesting find for the next hiker passing our spot.” He said with a stern voice. “You should be more careful. Not only are you littering the forest and leaving behind inappropriate mementos, you’re also breaking one of the rules by not wearing any panties for the long ride home.” He smiled wickedly. “Luckily, I know exactly what to do about that.”
He took Emma by the wrist and walked her to the car. Then he made her bend over the hood of the car and lifted her skirt, exposing her bottom in the dark field outside the forest.
Emma could feel her heart thumping beneath her breasts. The car’s hood was warm beneath her hands from standing in the sun all day. The air in comparison was cool against her glowing bottom. The long walk back had cooled it down considerably. It was probably more pink than red by now, ignoring a few round spots that might show a bruise. She was not afraid of another spanking. It always surprised her how quickly she recuperated from one and how fast she could feel ready for more. There were limits of course, after what she’d already gotten it wouldn’t take long before the stinging pain came back as hotly as it had been before. She waited breathlessly as Perrin walked around the car to put their basket in the trunk, wondering whether he’d keep the spoon or not.
She felt very exposed out here. Inside the forest where the view had been limited, her fear of being seen had been manageable, but out here, with a strange car parked right beside their own, where anyone could come and go, they were at a much higher chance of being seen. You could see a long distance across the fields, luckily it was nearly completely dark by now.
The relief she felt when Perrin returned without the spoon was quickly smothered when she saw him undo his belt. “Oh no, please.” She mumbled, but not loud enough for him to hear.
“Six lashes with the belt.” Her husband said. “And you revoke your right to a reward. Or twelve lashes and you get your reward right after, out here where anyone can see what a naughty girl you’ve been.”
Emma blushed but did not hesitate. “Twelve, please sir.”
She heard her husband positioning himself to her right and then heard the belt swinging before it hit. She cried out softly. She’d been wrong, the pain didn’t come back quickly, it was already there! She yelped and squealed as the thick leather belt set her bottom ablaze for five more lashes. The sound of her voice carried far across the open fields. Then her husband switched sides for the second half. Bravely, Emma took her punishment, keeping her bottom up high in the air as she leaned on their car. Proudly she presented her sore red bottom to her husband. He rewarded her with six more hard, painful swats with his belt.
Perrin dropped the belt and was suddenly beside her. His hand pushed her legs apart. “Good girl.” He said and pushed two fingers deep inside of her. Emma moaned loudly as he thrust them in and out. His second hand swatted her bottom. Normally they would have been playful swats, but with her bottom so sore, they renewed the sting again and again. Emma buckled her hips and arched her back, begging for more. The first hand slid down, the two wet fingers finding her clit as his thumb took their place inside of her. With just three fingers he held her in place and she was completely under his control once again. A few more smacks with his other hand and she was shaking uncontrollably. “Please sir, can I cum?” She managed just in time.
“Yes.” Her husband said, just a single word and Emma finally got her reward.
I could end the story here I suppose. I could leave you with this last image of Emma, bent over the hood of the car, sweating and moaning, her red bottom thrust in the air, her husband’s fingers deftly bringing her to a climax. But I prefer another image, the image that Perrin remembers the most when he thinks back on this particular day.
It was in the car on their way home. Both of them were satiated and exhausted. But for Emma the trail wasn’t really over yet. It was a long ride home and there is only one proper way to sit in a car. Her bottom was pressed firmly in the car seat for the long ride home. She had lifted her skirt all the way in the back so that her hot bottom was in direct contact with the cool leather of the seats. It didn’t help much, but it did give her husband a nice view of her bare legs and thighs. Emma was constantly aware of her sore bottom and Perrin could see it in her face. Emma fidgeted and moved as if there was a possible position in which she could sit comfortably.
“Emma, what did I tell you about sitting still?” Perrin asked her.
Emma blushed and tried her best not to move or show her discomfort. That is the image Perrin remembers most fondly. His lovely wife with her face blushing red, an adorable pout on her lips and her legs bared to cool her bottom from a well-earned spanking.
This was a preview.
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