by Monica Belle
‘She gets very excited when I spank her. It turns her on like nothing else. Not that she can help it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a real punishment, does it, darling?’
I didn’t answer, too angry, too humiliated, but most of all, too aroused. Julian carried on with my spanking, but he wasn’t prepared to accept my silence, demanding a response.
‘Come on, darling, answer me! Is this a real punishment?’
He began to spank harder, perhaps mistaking my speechless humiliation for obstinacy, and after a moment the words were spilling from my mouth in between gasps and yelps.
‘Yes! It’s a real punishment ... a proper punishment, and I deserve it!’
I’d said it, and I meant it, but the emotion of acknowledging my own feelings was too much for me. My eyes went misty and I’d started to cry, at which Julian stopped immediately, to pull me up and take me in his arms, cuddling me as I let my emotions out in a great flood of tears. He held on, whispering into my ear to soothe me until, at last, I had calmed down enough to remember that we had an audience, my blushes rising hot once more as I turned to where the snail man had watched my spanking.
He had fled, perhaps able to cope with the thoroughly rude display of my bottom as I was spanked but not with the far more intimate display of emotion I’d given when I broke down. It was just as well he’d gone too, because Julian had taken me to that special place where normal conventions simply don’t matter, and being watched wouldn’t have stopped me as I went down on my knees to free my lover’s cock from his trousers and take it in my mouth.
Julian accepted what I was doing as his due, stroking my hair as I sucked on his cock, which was already more than half hard. It was all I wanted, just to be allowed to pleasure him in return for my punishment, but I was his completely, to do with as he pleased. When he took a firm grip in my hair and pulled me off his prick I didn’t resist, nor as he stood up to ease me gently into position over the willow branch. My dress came up once more to leave my bare red bottom thrust out towards the empty fens and I was ready for whatever treatment he chose to give me. I thought he’d fuck me from behind, maybe after a good whipping with twigs from the willow tree, but as I felt the head of his cock press between my bottom cheeks I realised he had something else in mind. He was going to bugger me.
I just hung my head, completely surrendered to him, even as I felt his cock touch my anus, knowing he’d put it right up and deal with me properly, just as he always did. It wasn’t easy, my mouth wide and my breath coming in sharp, urgent gasps as he pushed himself gradually up my bottom. My hands were clutched tight to the rough bark of the willow branch, my body shaking, with fresh tears rolling down my cheeks, but I wanted it, and when at last I felt his balls squash to the flesh of my vacant sex and knew he was all in, my sigh held as much pleasure as relief.
He began to push inside me, slowly at first and then faster, until the hard muscles of his belly were slapping against my hot bottom cheeks. I took it as best I could, dizzy with reaction and lost in an ecstasy that came as much from my surrender as the motion of his cock in my bottom hole, but when he reached under my belly to find my sex and began to rub my body took over in an instant. A few light touches to my clit and I was there, coming in a welter of dirty ecstasy so good I screamed out his name, begging him to bugger me harder and promising to be his for ever until my words gave way to a shriek, then another, as he gave a single rough grunt and I realised he’d come.
I was biting my lip as he withdrew, which was what made me raise my head just in time to catch a glint off among the reeds. Instantly I thought of the snail man and light reflected from the glass of a lens, but there was nothing I could do until Julian was free of my body, leaving me babbling and kicking my feet in panic until I was finally able to get up. I jerked my dress down in a pointless attempt to cover my modesty, but my sense of utter abandonment had fled.
Julian had also seen the flash of light and was scanning the sea of reeds all around us. I could see all the way back to the folly, where a distant figure in a red top could only be the snail man. He was walking along the bank, in quite a different direction, and I began to wonder if all I’d seen was a reflection of sun on water. Then came the sound of an outboard engine, coughing to life just yards away, where tall reeds hid the open water of a minor channel. Julian rushed forward, barging through the undergrowth, only to break out in time to see a punt pull out from among the reeds. In it was seated a man in combats with a camera slung around his neck. He turned, saw us, the look of triumph on his face changed to shock, then, as he realised he was safe, to dirty, lust-filled glee.
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