The Dark Forest: A Collection Of Erotic Fairytales

by Zoe Blake

  “Do not make me pull the confession from you, Little Red. It will only increase your punishment.”

  “I had three… no four glasses of wine. I’m so sorry… it wasn’t your fault... I made a bad decision…”

  “Yes, you did,” he agreed, his tone stern. “You know you are only allowed alcohol when I am with you. Why do we have that rule, Little Red?”

  “Because it… it makes me sick to my tummy when I drink too much and I… I make even more bad choices.”

  “That’s right. Choices that will always earn you what?”

  “A… a hot, sore bottom.”

  “Again, correct. I believe that by the time you’ve been introduced to the tawse, you’ll lose all desire to lie to me again.” When he stood, she knew it wasn’t going to go well for her. “I want you on the ottoman, titties and head down, that naughty ass well up.”

  She nodded and stood, waiting until he’d moved the ottoman to the front of the chair and then climbed on it, taking the same position she had when receiving her enema. Except this time, her hands were free for which she was grateful. Clutching the edges of the ottoman, she whimpered as she felt the leather sliding across her aching bottom. “Daddy?”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “I know.”

  “Is… is it going to hurt really bad?”

  “Yes, Little Red, it’s going to hurt pretty bad but let it teach you that drinking isn’t something you are allowed to do unless I’m there to keep an eye on you.” He paused and then asked, “How did you get home?”

  “I took a cab. I already felt guilty about lying and drinking… I knew you’d kill me if I attempted to drive myself home.”

  He squatted down beside her, rubbing his hand over her back. “No, not kill you but you’d definitely not sit for a week. Just know that decision was a very smart one.” Bending, he brushed his lips over hers and then stood.

  He was right… as he always was. And so was every poor naughty soul in those books who’d felt the devil’s toy slapped against their bare bottoms. She wailed with the first stroke, those leather tongues biting into a bottom that was already sore, adding yet another layer of pain. Her bottom wagged from side to side, bouncing up and down but all her squirming didn’t stop a single stroke from finding its target. His hand moved to press against her lower back. “Bottom still and well up or would you rather take the rest on your thighs?”

  “No!” she screamed, “I mean, no, sir!”

  “Then obey me and accept your punishment like a good girl.” Sobbing, she pressed her bottom as high as she could, spreading her knees apart, opening herself to his discipline. Her obedience didn’t stop the tawsing, just kept every horrid strike on her padded heinie instead of her thighs. When it finally ended, she knew she’d never ever take a single sip of alcohol without him knowing and without him being right beside her.

  She sobbed, her bottom still wagging in a futile attempt to cool its burn after he stepped away. Her sobs had turned to sniffles by the time he squatted down beside her again, his hand rubbing her punished posterior. When she calmed, he helped her to her feet and after she’d drunk a full bottle of water, he led her to the corner. She was very grateful to see it empty, no stool waiting for her to take a seat. Stepping into the corner, she made sure her nipples were pressed against the wall, her bottom pushed out, her legs spread.

  Chapter Seven

  Drake picked up the red cape and folded it, setting it aside on another chair. Pulling an afghan from the back of the settee, he draped it over the arm of his chair. Glancing at the corner, he was pleased to see that his naughty girl was properly positioned, her little red bottom practically glowing. He picked up the implements already used and tossed all but the brush into a wicker basket on the hearth.

  “Sir, supper is almost ready.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Grimm,” Drake said, “If you’ll bring it on a tray, please. Then you may leave for the night.”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  Drake had kept his eyes on Regina during his conversation with “Granny Grimm.” He had seen her pull herself closer to the wall as if wishing she could step through the plaster. His pride in her grew when after doing so, she then pushed her bottom back out, accepting the shame of Granny seeing that she had been spanked quite thoroughly and was spending time in the naughty girl corner to contemplate her behavior.

  “Little Red, come here.”

  She immediately turned and once he opened his arms, she flew into them, burying her face in his shirt. “I’m so sorry, Daddy. Please forgive me.”

  “I already have,” he said, picking her up and moving to the easy chair. Taking a seat, he wrapped the afghan around her as she snuggled into his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin. Holding her close, he kissed her curls. “I love you, little one.”

  “I love you so much, Daddy.”

  He held her in silence until Mrs. Grimm carried in a tray and placed it on the coffee table. She smiled and nodded, leaving quietly. Drake knew she would return the next day to continue her role… hopefully as the loving, fun, playful Granny whom he knew his little girl would enjoy far more than the stern, paddle wielding, enema giving grandmother she’d met tonight.

  “Come on, let’s get some food into you,” he said, “it’s not much but we aren’t yet done and I don’t want your tummy to get upset.”

  “It… it smells delicious,” Regina said, allowing him to help her slip off his lap before kneeling beside the coffee table. Drake took a seat beside her after setting a bowl of tomato soup and a plate containing a grilled cheese sandwich, cut on the diagonal before her. He grinned as she dunked the tip of her sandwich into the soup.

  “Good?” he asked after she’d taken a big bite.

  “Mmm-hmm,” she said, her eyes closing in bliss.

  He loved watching her pleasure at such a simple thing. He could offer her most anything she desired and yet he’d discovered she preferred things such as cuddling on the couch, eating popcorn and watching a movie on television rather than going out to some fancy restaurant. She was most comfortable in leggings and an oversize t-shirt than the designer dresses he’d bought her to wear to business events. They’d traveled to exotic places and her favorite activities were snorkeling or splashing in the sea before walking hand-in-hand with him along the beach. But he knew her favorite times were when she walked through the door to discover that it was going to be a special Little weekend. The moment he removed her “big girl” clothing, she giggled and squirmed as he tickled her tummy before pulling on a frilly dress or a pair of overalls with the big buckles at her shoulders. She was an amazing woman and he knew he was blessed to call her his own.

  Though he finished his meal, she wasn’t able to eat all of her sandwich or soup. He knew from experience that her appetite would return once she knew she was fully forgiven and didn’t insist she eat more. Wiping her mouth with a napkin, he stood and carried the tray to the kitchen. Upon his return, he moved to the chair before the fire and called her to him. Once she was standing between his legs, he guided her to kneel. Reaching for the ribbon adorning her pigtail, he pulled it free and began unweaving the braid that Granny Grimm had used to keep her hair contained. With her locks free, he reached for the brush on the side table and began to pull it through her hair.

  “The rest of your punishment will be given to Miss Redd,” he informed her, letting her know that her persona was now that of the adult she was and he was no longer Daddy but Master.

  She looked up at him and nodded her understanding. “Yes, sir,” she said and he noted that even her voice had changed. There was no trace of the lilt or tone his Gigi took on when she was deep into the role of his little girl.

  “Drop the afghan, Regina.” She let it slide from her body. Running his fingers through the strands of her curly hair, he arranged it over her shoulders to fall down her back. “You’ve confessed a lot of transgressions and yet kept the naughtiest one to yourself, haven’t you?
”

  Little Red would have squirmed, her lip would have disappeared between her teeth, her eyes pleading not to be made to confess such naughtiness. Regina, on the other hand, only showed her hesitancy with a lowering of her eyes for a brief moment. Once she met his gaze again, she said, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Not the answer I was looking for,” Drake said, shaking his head. “Take out the remaining items from the basket and put them on the table.”

  Regina did as instructed, placing the nipple clamps, the dildo and the butt plug on the table, her face coloring as she lifted the last item out, emptying the basket. He reached for the flogger, running the falls through his fingers. “Though the lie you just told me is going to have me removing my belt, I’m going to give you another chance to confess. Look at those items,” he instructed, motioning to the table. Consider where each will be placed on or in your body and tell me, do you still wish to deny your naughtiness?”

  She swallowed hard, her eyes moving from the flogger in his hand, to his belt buckle and then back to the table. He knew the moment she understood when her eyes locked onto the dildo standing on its base.

  “I… God, I’m so sorry. I missed you so much…” Pausing, her eyes returning to his, she seemed to remember attempting to justify her naughtiness with his absence hadn’t worked the first time she’d attempted it. “How… how did you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “That I… I played with myself that morning?”

  “Played?”

  “I mean I masturbated, Master.”

  “I can tell you that as your Master I know all and yet I do not lie… have never once lied to you. Regina, you know there are not only cameras all over my house, but I have a very good staff. The next time you decide to be very naughty and touch what is owned by me, I suggest you remember to not leave the evidence lying around. Though Mrs. Sampson is not required to clean our toys, she did so when you left that dildo in our bed.”

  Regina groaned, her eyes again flitting to the dildo on the table. “I’m sorry, Master.”

  “I’m sorry that instead of making a proper confession, you choose to lie to me.” Laying the flogger aside, he watched her eyes drop to his waist as he unbuckled his belt and she flinched a bit when he pulled it free of its loops. “If you’d been honest, the last item used to punish your bottom would have been the flogger. Instead, you will go to the back of the chair and bend over it. I want you on your tiptoes, your heels turned out, your legs spread and your hands beneath the cushion.” When she didn’t move, he folded the belt in half and then snapped it. The sound had her moving quickly to take the position he required.

  “You’ll count these.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “How… how many?”

  “As many as I deem necessary,” Drake said, knowing that her mind would stay more focused without knowing when her whipping would be over. Lifting his arm, the belt whirred through the air and landed with a sharp crack against her bottom.

  “One!” He gave her another, slightly beneath the first.

  “Two!” Her voice didn’t waver until she reared her head up and shrieked, her feet dancing as her knees bent, her bottom bobbing up and down. “Six! Please… I’m so sorry!”

  “Head down and back up on your toes. If I have to tell you again not to break position, we shall add the cane. Is that clear?”

  Her body stilled, and she groaned. “Ye… yes, sir.”

  Crack! “Seven!” Crack! “Eight!” Her bottom wagged, each stroke having her flesh flare white for the briefest moment before color rushed to fill the paleness. Crack! Crack! “Nine, Ten!” As the fifteenth stroke landed across the spot where her ass met her thighs, she shrieked, rearing up and dropping to a squat, her hands rubbing frantically across the wheal the belt had raised.

  Drake simply waited, the belt hanging from his hand. Just as quickly as she’d dropped, she bounced back up, her eyes wide as she found his. “Oh, God… I’m sorry… I-I didn’t mean…”

  Nodding towards the chair, he heard her sob and watched her drape herself over its back, smiling when she spread her legs even wider, lifted her ass higher as if that might have her Master ignore her transgression. It wouldn’t but he’d finish her strapping before addressing her newest naughtiness. The sixteenth stroke was placed exactly where the previous one had been delivered, testing her resolve to submit… to prove her contrition. “Sixteen! Please…” She was sobbing, the whipping testing her obedience with every stroke. Her voice quavered as he continued, the numbers becoming less clear and yet she didn’t break position again or miss a single count. Crack! “Twe… twenty-fi… five!”

  Drake lowered his arm and stepped close, running his palm over her welted, flaming bottom. She didn’t attempt to pull away though he knew her ass was beyond scorched. Moving even closer, he pressed his groin against her and leaned over. “Do not ever lie to me again for the next time it will be fifty. Understand?”

  “Ye… yes, sir. I’m so sorry, Master.”

  Stepping back, he threaded his belt back around his waist. He was pleased that she didn’t attempt to rise while he moved across the room and reached into an antique umbrella stand and withdrew a rattan cane. Swishing it through the air, he heard her groan at the unmistakable sound and saw her ass twitch. Returning to stand at her side, he began tapping the cane against her bottom and then rolled it against the wheals that painted her sit spots red. “Was that rubbing worth it, Regina?”

  “No… no, Master. I’m so sorry that I broke position.”

  “I’m sure you are.” After a final tap, he lifted his arm. The whirring sound preceded the sharp thwack and was followed by her shrill cry as the thin red line instantly bloomed against her already crimson flanks. Though she didn’t push up, her ass jiggled and bounced, only stilling when the cane tapped again. “Please… please…” The plea was muffled as her face was buried in the leather of the chair. There was no need to rush. She’d been warned and needed to feel each individual bite of the implement he loved and she truly abhorred. Whir… thwack! Scream. The cycle was repeated, each of the half-dozen strokes given only after the lewd, erotic gyrations of her ass had stilled.

  “Rise.” He stood close in case she faltered, giving her a moment after she stood to regain her equilibrium. She lifted her tear-streaked face to his.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Nodding, he handed her the cane after telling her to return it to its place. “If I have need to have you retrieve it again tonight, the next set will go on your thighs.”

  “Yes, Master.” As she walked to the stand, he admired his handiwork. It never ceased to amaze him how many hues of red there were. Her ass was a mottled swirl that ranged from red, to scarlet, to crimson, the backs of her thighs a rosy shade of pink. Six distinct wheals decorated her bottom, each one a fraction of an inch beneath the previous one painted. Still, her atonement was not yet complete. When she turned to walk back to him, he moved to pick up the nipple clamps.

  Chapter Eight

  “Play with your titties.”

  “Wh… what?”

  “You heard me. Come now, don’t pretend you haven’t played with them before. As you seem to enjoy touching what is mine, do so now. Get those nipples nice and hard.”

  “Please… I… can’t you just… whip me again?”

  “No. You don’t get to decide what punishment you are given and, Regina, let me remind you that there are many ways a girl can regret her naughtiness. I want your fingers twisting and pulling on those nipples until they are swollen and hard.”

  He watched as she slowly lifted her hands, covering her breasts for a moment before her fingers took her nipples and began pulling. Despite her hesitancy, it didn’t take but a few seconds before both puckered, becoming tight as little berries. He’d seen her cream slipping down her thighs when she’d been bent over the back of the chair receiving the cane. He had no doubt the pain had been severe and yet it wasn’t only the cause of the tears she’d shed, it w
as also the cause of the arousal that seemed to grow with every stroke of each implement he’d used.

  “Harder,” he instructed, letting her see him opening and closing the clamps, hearing her soft moan as she tugged her nipples harder, smelling her unique scent wafting on the air. “Present your titties.” She moved her hands beneath her breasts, lifting their weight, her face flushed as he approached. Opening the first clamp, he placed it over her right nipple, watching her eyes drop to her tit. “Eyes on me,” he ordered, and once she met his gaze, he released the clamp, seeing the surprise in her eyes first, quickly followed by a flash of pain.

  “Oh… God…”

  He captured her left nipple, having to reach up to give the already seated clamp a swat to keep her from squirming away. Now knowing what to expect, she whimpered as he pressed the clamp around her taut bud but didn’t yet allow it to bite, making her wait, watching her eyes widen and then hearing her cry when he released the clamp.

  “Go lay down on the table.” Stepping back to allow her to pass, he watched as she sat on the coffee table, hearing her soft hiss as her punished bottom took her weight. “On your back, heels to your ass, legs wide.” Once she was in position, he reached for the dildo.

  “So you like playing in places where your fingers don’t belong?”

  “No… no, sir. I mean I did masturbate but… but I didn’t really enjoy it.”

  “No? Tell me, did you cum?”

  Her eyes closed briefly and she nodded, whispering, “Yes, sir.”

  “Women don’t cum because they don’t enjoy something now do they?”

  “No… no, sir. But… I prefer when you touch me.”

  Drake knew that she did and also knew that he wasn’t really punishing her for masturbating. Hell, he often instructed her to do so for his enjoyment. But he was punishing her for doing so without asking permission… permission he would have granted had she but asked. He knew she was a sexual woman, one who truly enjoyed giving and receiving pleasure. She’d only needed to ask and yet she hadn’t and then, surely knowing he knew of her transgression, she’d still chosen to lie. For that she was going to be sorry.