Off of the Beaten Path

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “I thought that was over and done with,” she said.

  “You think that? You don’t know me very well. I recall telling you we’d deal with the issue later.”

  Something jogged her memory that Nick had snapped off an irritated retort to that effect. But now? So far removed from the day? She was surprised.

  “So, what’s Davis doing here?” she asked, getting very concerned over her boyfriend’s intentions.

  “I think you can figure that out. He’s going to help me blister your ass,” Nick said.

  “Oh no you don’t!” She was jerking away from him.

  “No games, Ashley Bloom. You have a bad habit of getting too big for your britches,” he said. “And we’re going to take care of that.” He had somehow grabbed her wrist and was holding it tightly in his hand. At the same time, Davis had popped up from the sofa, casting Ashley a reprimanding look, as if he’d was completely in Nick’s corner, as determined to correct her behavior as her boy friend was.

  “Nick, NO!” Ashley tried the direct demand, but neither man was balking, neither paying any attention to the firm set of her jaw, or the furious spark in her blue green eyes.

  “We can do this without a lot of fuss, or I can get some rope and tie you down,” Nick suggested.

  “No, please,” she pleaded, even as she was fascinated by the thought of being tied down to take a punishment.

  Davis, knowing exactly what he had in mind, had pulled one of Nick’s dining room chairs from the other room. “You said you hadn’t tried the classical approach, Nick? Perhaps it’s time she had the whole treatment.”

  Sitting down in the chair, Davis looked at Ashley with a severe look. His pale eyes had the strangest way of boring into her, which was especially startling when the struggling penitent realized that she was looking into Jess’s eyes, at least a fair similarity to the provocative ones, that displayed the same stern resolve when she’d pissed him off.

  “She’s all yours, friend,” Nick said, much to Ashley’s surprise.

  “What are you doing?” Ashley blurted out. It seemed hardly consistent with the man who admitted to a wide jealous streak.

  “I’ll get as much pleasure watching you get punished, as I would doing it myself. Let’s just say that tonight, you can let another man take charge and we’ll both get what we need.”

  Ashley was too startled to say a word, and turning back to Davis, she found herself readily responding to his focused attention on her.

  “Come here, Ashley,” he said.

  At that instant she was ready to run off, but rather than acting on her better judgment, she found herself rising from the sofa and taking the short few steps to Davis’s side.

  “You know, making lots of protests and acting like a rebellious kid just makes it worse,” he reminded her. “Now, take off your T-shirt.”

  “What?” she gasped, very quietly.

  “A good submissive doesn’t question,” he said.

  He was so calm, so collected, and curiously fatherly, not like her own father who’d never spanked her, but authoritarian like a strict father or stern uncle. He wasn’t hard and cruel, it was more like he was admonishing a naughty child. And that’s exactly how she felt. Pulling up the bottom of her shirt, Ashley had it over her head, revealing the black lace lingerie she was wearing.

  Davis stared at her briefly, but then moved on to other things.

  “Now the jeans,” he said.

  Staring him straight in the eye because she couldn’t take her eyes off of him, Ashley unbuttoned the jeans and pushed them over her hips to the floor. The lace garment was all that remained, the one piece tight fitting lycra clung to her body like a second skin. It was cut high at the thighs, so that her long tan legs were beautifully displayed (after all, she was supposed to have seduced Nick in it), and her neatly trimmed pussy was hidden beneath a small sliver of lace that attempted to cover her pubic mound.

  “This too?” Ashley wondered aloud, as she was about to pull her arm from the lacy garment.

  “No. I think that will do for now,” Davis said. He didn’t seem to be as interested in a seduction as he was in the spanking ritual. Reaching out for her, he pulled her closer to him. Before taking her over his lap, which was clearly what would happen next, he looked up at her. “I don’t do this often, but for a friend as close as Nick, I agreed. Let’s not forget what it’s about, however. I’m going to punish you Ashley because you’ve behaved like a recalcitrant brat, and you need a strong firm hand to keep you in place. I’m not punishing you because Nick couldn’t do it himself, but sometimes having another dominant take charge makes the message a more vivid. You understand that?” he asked. He had an amazing calmness about him. Where she’d been spanked in the throes of erotic lust, and in heated anger, this was so deliberately old fashioned. He might as well have marched her to a woodshed first. In the middle of the wildest uproar inside her, Ashley couldn’t stop it.

  “Yes, I understand,” she replied to his question.

  “Good,” he said. “Now go to the kitchen and bring back the widest wooden spoon Nick has.”

  Ashley padded off like a dutiful child, realizing that the perfect implement to imitate a paddle was hanging on the wall, probably deliberately placed there for this very reason. Grabbing the six inch wide butter paddle hanging on a nail by the stove, she returned to Davis’s side and handed it to him.

  “Perfect,” he said, looking at the implement. “This will do just fine.”

  Ashley was beginning to feel as if she was going to be tortured forever with the long ritual beginning. Each word from Davis, each new instruction just added fuel to the fires burning in her. Now, she couldn’t wait to get started, she thought she’d simply burst, if he made her wait any longer. Her prayers to hasten the start were thankfully answered, when the compelling dominant briskly took her by the wrist and pulled her down over his lap, his firm strong thighs, so reminiscent of her old boyfriend’s lap. For a moment, Ashley was back in the jungle, in a hut. For an instant, she was in the woods, stretched out, kicking and screaming over Jess’s very similar lap.

  Ashley was brought back from her time warp to reality with the first smack of the paddle, leveled squarely on the middle of left rear cheek. Davis followed it with brisk alternating smacks of the butter paddle, first on one cheek and then on the other, until he must have laid a dozen on her behind. That accomplished, he paused.

  Without thinking, Ashley was whimpering, the intense sting of wood against her bottom was a new sensation. Being used to leather, she wasn’t accustomed to the ungiving nature of the hard flat surface.

  While she recouped from the first flurry of smacks, Davis laid the paddle down for a moment, and attended to the black lace garment that still covered half of Ashley’s bottom. It was a very provocative look, but the stern disciplinarian was more interested in the punishment than eroticism. Lifting the edge of the body suit, he pulled the slip of material into the crack of her ass, first on one side, and then on the other, so that both rear cheeks were completely bare, all the pale pink skin of Ashley’s behind bared for the remainder of the session.

  Picking up the paddle again, Davis resumed the spanking, quickly applying the butter paddle on one cheek several times; and then changing to the other cheek, he laid it on that one too. Not so methodical this time, the erratic changes from cheek to cheek were completely unpredictable, taking Ashley off guard. He’d lay a half dozen smacks on one side, and only one on the other, and then switch so quickly, the poor woman never knew what would happen next. The unforgiving paddle came down everywhere from the top of Ashley’s butt, to the sides and bottom, and then even on the tops of her thighs.

  “Oh no, please!” she wailed, when one especially nasty smack caught the soft side of her bottom.

  “Pleeeeese no more, I can’t…” her garbled cries rose into the air. But the paddle’s staccato beat just kept on going.

  “Yeeeeeawwwwwww! Noooooooooooo!!!” she wailed. But Davis was not hearing her, j
ust the sound of the paddle, and the red of her bottom was all that mattered to him.

  “Noooooooo, nooooooooo, pleeeeeeese!” she howled. But the only variation in this madness was when Davis smacked the paddle against the back of her thighs.

  “Stop, pleassssse!” she answered him. That wicked sting was by far the worst. And yet, unmoved by her torment, Davis laid at least a half dozen more across her thighs, before he moved back to her rosy bottom.

  By then, her entire ass end all the way down to mid thigh was a bright burning red.

  All the while of Ashley’s punishment, Nick sat back and watched, hypnotized by his girlfriend’s bouncing red cheeks. She was kicking, but not madly. And even though she was screaming more wildly than she ever had with him, there was something very submissive about her attitude. She fought him, but she was also as erotically charged as she was in pain.

  All in all, Nick witnessed a glorious sight, seeing the willful woman get exactly what she needed, in a way she needed it most. Over the past few weeks, he’d begun to think that she was too much of a brat for him to control. A lesson from Davis was a good way to see if she would really develop into the submissive women he wanted. So few women had the kind of disposition to yield. If he could tame Ashley Bloom, he’d have quite a find.

  When Davis finally stopped Ashley’s ordeal, she was at her peak of anguish. Never, never in her life had she had anything so ghastly rip through her as the abiding pain Davis produced with the paddle. And when it was over, never had she felt such relief, mixed with incredible erotic body heat. It was so hot, she thought she might orgasm with another simple touch.

  With the butter paddled dropped to the floor, Davis laid his hand on Ashley’s hot behind, not fondling it, not even the simplest caress suggesting anything sexual.

  “I think for the finale we’ll do it completely in the buff,” he said.

  It took some seconds for Ashley to realize what Davis was implying.

  “Finale,” she whispered softly, as a few final sobs were escaping her lips.

  “You’ve had the cane before, haven’t you?” he asked.

  “Oh no!”

  “I never end a punishment without it. I expect a naughty bitch needs the reminders, a few marks to last a few days, just to let the message linger.”

  “Please no!” she cried mournfully. She hardly had any spunk left, and what there was attempted to cajole him into changing his mind.

  “Get up, Ashley, and take off the suit.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “My that’s too bad,” he replied calmly. “I don’t appreciate rebellion. You’ve just earned twelve cuts instead of six.”

  She was about to blurt out another protest, but the man was dead serious. Where would it end!

  Rising from Davis’s lap with the help of a gentle nudge, Ashley stood before the two men, her entire body, mind and soul swimming in the highly charged heat. She looked at Nick, still hoping for some sympathy from him. Even as she wished for a reprieve however, there seemed to be some inherent logic to the ending, a perfectly good reason why she needed the finality of the cane.

  “Go on,” Nick prompted her, when she hesitated to remove the lace garment.

  It was a remarkable moment of resignation for her, something she would later wonder about, how she could surrender to these two men without the fight she was accustomed to? The fight was still there inside her, but somewhere in the inner reaches of her herself. For that instant, it was as if another woman had come forward, one, that for all the spit and fire of the real Ashley, existed in her too. For just one small space in time, this other woman needed to be exposed.

  The body suit just a heap of black lace on the floor, Ashley stood naked before both men.

  Nick’s expression was filled with lust, though Davis’s remained as cool and detached as ever, not even the tiniest wrinkle in his expression, as he looked at the sensuously aroused woman.

  From out of nowhere, there appeared a long thin wooden cane. Unlike the one Jess had used, which collapsed down into a smaller piece, this one was a single polished cane of supple wood.

  Davis held the implement in his hands, as Ashley staring at it with her gaze fixed on the powerful hands, the firm grip, the shiny surface, thinking as she was dwelling on the compelling piece, how Davis might look applying the implement to her offered bottom. She saw his arm raised, the sudden swoosh though the air, even the set of his jaw as he watched the impact of the each cut.

  “Bend over the coffee table, palms on the surface,” Davis said, knocking Ashley from her reverie.

  Nick’s low coffee table was perfect for her to strike the right submissive pose. With her palms against the surface to support her weight, she was bent over, her breasts swaying underneath her and her back side, all the way down to her feet, exhibited and waiting for the first cut. Both men could see, that while the blush on her bottom was fading, it was not gone all together. The cane would raise the burn again, but this time leave the added impact of distinct red lines.

  “It would be better not to tense and flinch. Believe me, the pain will more severe that way,” Davis advised. A immediate swoosh through the air of the menacing implement, and a sharp pain shot though Ashley’s body everywhere.

  “Yeeeeeaaawwww!”

  Another and another, the man was not making it a long drawn out affair, this finale. Each snap, each cut, Ashley yowled loudly. Another three, and half of the chastisement was over. If she’d been smart enough to hold her tongue, the whole thing would be behind her.

  Hearing yet another swoosh, Ashley felt the next cut land, on her tender upper thighs. The cry she raised was as devastating, as the pain shooting through her. It was the first time she was tempted to race away, but before she could even tell her limbs to move, the next cut hit its mark.

  “Yeeeeeeeawwwwwwwww!” Everywhere the cut attacked her.

  The criss-crossed lines on the blonde woman’s behind stood out remarkably from the red blush the paddle had put there. The surface of her ass end was raised in welts, though there was no breaking of the skin. Davis was an expert in the art of a good caning.

  The final four strokes were less offensive than the others, landing with a quick thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack; the collective anguish producing one frenzied blast of pain, which made Ashley collapse to the coffee table, unable to hold herself up any longer.

  Davis, descending on the woman’s back side, pulled her to her feet, one arm about her waist, his other hand at her behind fondled it with a insistent but gentle caress. The act only enhanced the pain, but not so she was crying from any further agony. Pushing her toward the sofa, he held her limp willing body close to his, as the remarkable dominant felt for a moist willing home for his erect penis.

  The sex was part of the finale too. Some necessary justice served them both. Ashley needed the strange affection of Davis’s pounding groin against her backside, while Davis needed the last act of this classic theatre properly played to the finish. It tied up loose ends, and raw feelings between dominant and submissive. The climactic explosion in both their loins, a marked and righteous end.

  “You’ll be behaving yourself, Ashley Bloom,” Davis said, as he was withdrawing his cock from her. She knew it would only be replaced by Nick’s. Though for that instant between the two men, a startling revelation descended on her crystal clear. For a moment in time, she’d been in unison with the supremely cool and rational dominant, and though there was no real affection between them, she was aware where the real affection of her heart resided. It took a man like Davis, so much like Jess, to drive that fact home.

  Ashley might have taken a dozen men that night, though she took only two. The submissiveness went so far inside, so very deep, touching a place she would rarely allow herself to go. It was too bad that she had to go through such agony to find it, but she was not about to lose the feeling again.

  It had just been the wrong man that helped her find it.

  And that was something to promptly rectify.r />
  Chapter Fourteen

  Ashley decided to remain in the city another few nights, but she was moving out of Nick’s apartment. The man didn’t understand her reasoning, and Ashley wasn’t particularly inclined to cite all the reasons why she was leaving his flat. To her dismay however, he demanded an explanation as he stood over her watching her pack.

  “It’s not going to work,” she stated flatly.

  “You’re upset about Davis, aren’t you?” he asked. He was so close to her, it was hard to breath.

  “No, in fact that’s one thing I’m not upset about at all. I enjoyed last night,” she said. “At least part of it.”

  “You don’t make sense to me,” he said.

  She felt his rage simmering under the cool veneer. It was time to diffuse the situation before he tried to exert his control over her. She wouldn’t consent again.

  “I think we want different things,” she said, trying to be as sweet as possible. “I’m not sure of everything myself, but last night, and that butter paddle, and Davis clarified a lot of things.”

  “I wish you’d said something sooner,” he said.

  “I didn’t know sooner, Nick,” she answered him kindly. A hand in his hand for just an instant seemed to calm him.

  “It’s over then?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Kissing his cheek, it was a sisterly act, and nothing more.

  ***

  Renting a car that morning, Ashley was glad for a little space from the close confines of the city. Driving across the Bay Bridge to Berkeley, she felt a exhilarating freedom surge through her. The hills on the other side of the Bay were beckoning her. Jess was beckoning her.

  She wondered if Jess still thought about her, if maybe that very instant, his mind was pondering their relationship. Did he have the same longing she was feeling? Could he be calling out to her, drawing her to him?