“Supper,” he said, smiling at her through the rear view. “I thought we’d go up to Montridge View, look at the fireflies and the city lights, such as they are. We can eat a little supper (or a lot of supper, considering how I packed that basket) and maybe do some talking.”
“Sounds good.” She started to unwrap the white blanket that covered the food, but stopped when Colton loudly cleared his throat.
“No peeking.”
She made a face, her stomach starting to rumble, and then changed the topic. “What’s DD-inclined mean?”
Was it her imagination or did the bus just swerve a little?
Clearing his throat, Colton shifted in his seat. “I guess that answers whether or not you’d seen the ad.”
“If I knew what it meant, I might consider replying to it?” she teased and stole a peek inside the basket while he wasn’t looking at her.
“It means domestic discipline.”
“As in foreign or domestic?” She stole a little crispy skin off a piece of fried chicken. It was halfway to her mouth when he looked at her in the mirror and caught her. She smiled and ate it anyway.
“Uh huh,” he said, a knowing look in his eyes and promissory smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Actually, domestic discipline, in my mind at least, refers to wives submitting to their husbands whenever a good spanking is required.”
“What about girlfriends?”
“Girlfriends, too. Especially girlfriends who go digging into picnic baskets when they’ve been told not to.”
Mindy giggled and stole another piece of chicken before covering the tablecloth back over the food.
“We’re going up into the woods, you know.” He said, tossing her a rakish grin. “Where switches and bamboo stalks abound.”
Mindy perked. “Like in that farmer/daughter scenario? Where he marches her down to the barn and bends her over a hay bale and he switches her until she’s got all these bright red stripes poking out from under the hem of her short, short shorts?”
“Note to self,” Colton said with a rueful chuckle. “You are way too excited by the prospect of switches for that to ever be a successful threat.”
Mindy grinned back at him, but she was thinking now not of the mouthwatering chicken practically melting in her mouth, but rather of blue cut-off shorts being lowered to reveal black thong panties and a tangle of swollen switch welts cris-crossing one another all across the blushing surface of that howling ‘daughter’s’ bottom. She’d looked oh so penitent by the time ‘daddy’ was done with her. She’d stood in the center of that barn, clutching and squeezing and rubbing in an effort to put out the fire he’d lit within the tender flesh of her sorely mistreated backside. Mindy shivered delightedly.
“I think it was supposed to be a woodshed,” Colton said.
“Do you have a woodshed?” She tried not to sound too hopeful. After all, she didn’t want the man to think she wanted him only for his implements and spanking paraphernalia.
He wasn’t fooled. “As a matter of fact, I do. But you’re going to have to be a very good girl if you ever want to see the inside of it.”
Mindy laughed. “Isn’t that backwards?”
“For every other woman in America, yes.” He shook his head once. “But not for you. You’re one of a kind; you like it too much.”
“Aww!”
“Nope,” he said brightly. “No more spankings for you, young lady, until you learn to behave yourself.”
“No!” she laughed, but she also put the picnic basket back where she’d found it.
He slowed the bus to turn off the main highway, venturing down a road that more resembled a sparsely traveled trail, unpaved with grass growing up between twin tire tracks that wound their way through the trees, gradually climbing the gentle hillside. They came to a stop at the top of a bluff. A well-known necking spot, it had seen just enough teenage traffic to turn a section of the grassy meadow into a bare-dirt parking lot.
It was dusk but not dark when he shut off the engine and climbed from the bus to set up their supper table. Finding a plush grassy spot, he spread a blanket out on the ground not far from a heavily laden oak and a purple-leafed maple tree. Setting the picnic basket in the middle, he beckoned her over. “Take a seat. Unless, of course, you’ve eaten enough of the chicken that you’re not hungry any more.”
“Not a chance.” Mindy came onto the blanket and eagerly knelt across from him. “I’m starved.”
They had chicken, potato salad, corn on the cob, cheese and crackers, grapes and strawberries, and thin slices of German chocolate cake for dessert. Just about everything could have been purchased at the deli in town, but that didn’t make it taste any less good. And Mindy really enjoyed the company.
When they’d eaten their fill, Colton patted a spot on the blanket and said, “Put your butt here.”
She scooted over, putting her back to him and glancing over her shoulder at him questioningly. When he lay down a short distance behind her and patted his stomach, she lay down too, pillowing her head and shoulders upon his midriff. They looked up at the indigo sky, watching as the stars came out and the near-full moon began to shine. It washed the whole countryside in a soft, silvery glow. It was a beautiful night, neither hot nor cold, and the conversation wasn’t bad, either.
“When I was a little boy,” Colton said, his fingers combing softly through her hair. “I used to play with these two girls that lived on my street: Bobby Ann Barker and Michellinda Ewing. I can’t believe I still remember their names. They were the cutest girls, too. Blonde hair, blue eyes. We’d play house and I was always the daddy. There wasn’t a half hour that went by where I didn’t find some really good reason to spank one or both of my girls.”
Rolling over onto her side, she looked up at him. His hand felt heavenly, endlessly stroking her hair. His head was pillowed on his other arm, and while he watched the winking, sparkling stars, she watched him.
“I grew up; they grew up. Little girl behinds became womanly behinds. Round butts, bubble butts, wobbly and heart-shaped butts, and every last one of them looking sexy as hell with a pair of bright pink handprints on them. Yeah, I think it’s pretty safe to say I’ve been a butt man from the beginning.” He gave her head a playful pat and a scritch, grinning up at the stars. “What about you? When did you know?”
Her head still pillowed on his stomach, Mindy reached up to toy with one of his shirt buttons. It was infinitely easier to look at that then to look up at him as she confessed a secret she’d never ever told another living soul.
“When I was fifteen, my best friend and I played hookie from school. We were back at her house exactly when the bus would have dropped us off, but the school must have called her father because he was waiting for her when we opened the door. He grabbed her arm and right there in the hall—he didn’t even close the door first—he just bent her over his hip and started smacking away. He spanked her, and I mean he really spanked her. This was my best friend, and she was kicking and wailing like I’d never seen before in my life. And the whole time I was standing there watching this, all I could feel was…well, a little scared in the pit of my stomach, but also kind of excited. He sent her running up to her room in tears, and then he looked at me. I’d known that man since I was five. I used to play at his house every week, if not every day. He used to help me with my homework and even bought me a cupcake for my birthday one year. So when he looked at me like that—with this...this...Look...I honestly thought he was going to spank me next, too.”
“He didn’t?”
“No.” She tried not to sound too disappointed, especially not after so many years. At the time, she remembered feeling exceedingly grateful to get out of that house unscathed. “He threatened me with a good whipping if we ever did it again, then sent me home and called my mother. I got grounded for a month, but unfortunately spent that whole time sitting down quite comfortably.”
She glanced up at him then. He was smiling. “What a crime.”
She laughed softly. “Yeah, well. It was a long time ago.”
“Few reasons beat out playing hookie where good spankings are concerned.” He was twining his fingers in long strands of her hair. A soft night breeze rustled through the old oak tree, shivering the leaves over their heads. “Was the switching scenario your favorite from the last magazine?”
“Yes, but it ran a close second with the bad-tempered girlfriend who got her attitude resoundingly adjusted with that hairbrush.” She giggled, sitting up when he nudged her.
He got up slowly, digging a penknife from his pocket and unfolding it with a snap before holding it out to her. “You ever cut your own switch before?”
Holding that knife in her hand, Mindy felt the butterflies stirring back to life. “No.”
“All right.” When she made no move to stand, he offered her a hand up, patiently waiting until she took it. “I’ll show you how it’s done, but pay attention because you’ll be cutting the next one on your own, and there will be penalties for not picking one sturdy enough to count out a decent licking.”
She tried to laugh as she followed him to the tree, but although he’d been smiling as he said it, there was a delightful ominousness to his words that made her giggles choke to a stop in the back of her throat. In the moonlight, he felt along the length of several thin branches until he found one to his liking.
“Nice and green,” he said, snipping it from the tree. At the thickest end, it wasn’t any bigger around than her smallest finger. He quickly pared away the twigs, leaving only the slender branch. It made an evil hiss when he cut it twice through the air. “Here you go.”
He made her hold while he went back to the bus long enough to turn the headlights on. They weren’t trained on her, but it lit up the bluff anyway and gave her ample opportunity to study the lithesome switch, bending it experimentally between her fingers until he returned. He was still smiling and that gave her the strength and confidence she needed to extend that switch back to him, but instead of taking it, she felt Colton’s fingers catch the waist of her jeans, pulling her those last few inches towards him.
Her fingers turned to rubber when she felt his playing along the button and zipper, and she almost dropped the switch completely. The snugness of her jeans eased a half second before his bare hands slipped in between the denim and her skin, smoothing down her hips to cup her bottom. Gazing into her eyes, he squeezed them, bringing her up on her toes again, before shrugging her pants down her legs so that they puddled around her knees.
“Turn around, put your hands on the tree,” he said, his voice husky and low as he finally accepted the switch from fingers that had gone limp and almost numb. When she turned to obey, his free hand settled light and warm against the small of her back. “Don’t let go.”
He lay the switch against her flanks, the cool length coming to rest partly across her bare skin and partly as little more than the softest caress over the thin cloth of her underwear. He held it against her, letting her simply feel the flexible length before giving the switch a flick.
And a flick was exactly what it was: a snap of his wrist, a whisper of sound and the barest whisper of answering sting that streaked across the fullest curve of her panty-covered bottom. Mindy sucked a sharp breath. He could have hurt her, but he didn’t. He used very little force at all, just tender wristy strokes as he followed that first stroke with a second, third, then fourth, an endless soft rain of them that kissed all the spankable surface of her bottom and lingered for a brief eternity, flicking lightly repeatedly into the crease where her buttocks met her thighs and the skin there was so tender than after two she couldn’t hold still for the third and she clenched, tucking her bottom in as if that might protect it.
It did stop the switching, but only just long enough for the warm palm of his free hand to rasp down over the stinging surface of her skin. “Push your bottom out, Mindy.”
And Mindy did. Her hands shifted against the rough bark of the tree, coming in close together as she leaned in to press her forehead against the backs of her fingers. The length of the switch returned to the upper part of her bottom, resting there lightly for just a heartbeat or two before he began again.
She caught her breath and held it, closing her eyes, each flick of his wrist—ever so slightly harder than before—making her bottom bounce and her hips twitch. Soft as they were, the sting very quickly grew teeth and Mindy’s little twitches became outright squirms. Her hips twisted, softly bucking from one side to the next, unable to hold still but reluctant to evade as he worked his way down to the crease that topped her thighs. She took three quick snaps there before her silence was broken by a ragged gasp.
He paused, and the tip of the switch moved down to tap at the back of her knee. “Spread your legs apart. Wider.”
She shifted her feet as far apart as her puddle of jeans would allow. Her ragged breaths were tiny gasps of uncertainty when he hooked the waist of her underwear and pushed those down now too, albeit only midway down her thighs.
As lightly as he’d spanked her, there was still a flush of warmth to her flesh and heightened sensitivity when his bare hand rasped a caress, circling the mound of first one smarting buttock and then the next.
It was so light and so brief, that when his two middle fingers followed the curve of her bottom down to skim between her thighs, she almost thought she imagined it. There was no missing, however, the sheen of wetness that she felt cooling against her breeze-kissed skin when he let his fingers trail back up and over the curve of her right cheek again.
“More?” he asked, sultry and low.
She couldn’t speak. She just nodded instead.
His hand found its place in the small of her back again, so warm and strong and sure, and then it began again. Sharper this time. Strokes of pain-tinged fire that lanced lines into her flesh. Lines beyond counting, beyond holding still for, beyond being quiet for.
“Oh!” Her hands became fists against the rough bark of the tree, and again she tried to twist her hips away, still pushing back into the sting even as she fled from it. Except this time, he didn’t let her. His hand left her back, reappearing below her belly, moving down to boldly cup her sex, arching her hips back and holding her there for the switch to sting with endless, fiery lines.
It was bitterness and sweetness, painful and pleasurable, unbearable and arousing all at once. She arched up onto her toes, pushing her fists against the old oak, unable to take it and yet crying out sharply when it stopped too soon. Too soon!
She was moving on his fingers, hardly aware of what she was doing until the heat of his mouth pressed hot kisses down the slope of her neck.
“I like switchings,” she said, startling her badly when her voice came out sounding so shaky with the pain of it and yet husky with the rawness of her need for more.
He laughed softly, sounding every bit as aroused. “Only because you’ve never felt the real thing.”
“That wasn’t real?”
“Not by a long shot.”
She turned her head to look at him, awash in moonlight and the yellow glow of the headlights. Her bottom was throbbing lightly, caressed by the lithesome switch from behind. Her sex ached even more, his fingers stroking up into the wet hot folds until her hips twitched to ride them again.
“Please?” She didn’t have to specify; he knew full well what she wanted.
“It’s going to hurt,” he warned.
“Just one?” Her whole body shivered as he stroked her, both before and behind, two different sensations, both arousing in the extreme.
Colton took his hands away and stepped back, measuring the slender switch once against the fullest swell of both rosy cheeks.
For one split second, Mindy knew what it was like to be the farmer’s disobedient daughter. For that one single stroke, he put a taste of real punishment into the fire that cut across the naked hills of her buttocks.
Her shout echoed all over that bluff. She forgot about holding onto the tree or holding still. She v
aulted stiffly upright, grabbing herself and dancing in place, stamping her feet in the grass as she bouncing frantically up and down. But just as quickly, completely unmindful of the show she must be giving him, she turned quickly into the light, twisting back her head in an attempt to see the resulting welt that she could already feel swelling beneath the tips of her fingers.
“Oh ow!” she whispered, rubbing and soothing and craning her neck back the other way to see if she could glimpse it any better from the other side. “Oh! Oh ow!”
Dropping the switch into the grass, Colton came up behind her, forcibly pulling her hands away and pressing her forward until they were once more against the tree. The rough denim of his jeans were a scouring abrasion against that single growing welt. But even more breathtaking was the conspicuous bulge that pressed up between her buttocks from behind.
“Now,” he breathed, hot and sultry against her ear. “Aren’t you glad to be such a good girl that you won’t have to stand here like this, taking a dozen more just like that?”
Trembling, her hips pushing and rubbing back against him just to feel the aching friction against the fury of the weal, all Mindy could think to say was, “Could I be just a little bit bad and have a few more?”
Laughing softly, Colton shook his head in wonder, “You really are one of a kind.”
He kissed the back of her neck, and then he bent to pick up the switch once more.
Chapter Four
The next day, Mindy still had three perfect lines bisecting the width of her bottom. They were tender where the elastic of her panties rubbed them but she liked the feel. Every time she sat down, a little of that old heat flared and the throb would begin anew. It took two full days before they disappeared completely, but sometimes if she sat just right she imagined she could still feel some tenderness and it would make her smile. And then she’d smile even more as she remembered the hard bulge of Colton’s unapologetic arousal, still safely confined within his jeans but pressing up against her wealed buttocks, seeking its own entrance into the warm wet heat of her. He’d wanted to make love to her, but in the end he refrained. It was only their second date, after all—although maybe his reluctance had more to do with Nana’s forty year old condom.
Blushing Cheeks Volume Two Page 13