Author's note: The characters in this story are consenting adults with prearranged limits, safewords, and hand signals. Only truly safe sex can be truly kinky!
The porch was shrouded in darkness. From its depths the glowing ember of a joint winked on and off like a firefly. The front faced the street, where during daylight hours traffic liked to flow, but now there was nothing to see but a moonlit tree. Its shadow blanketed the yard, reaching towards the end of the driveway where a mailbox and a scarecrow stood watching the road. The fields were still. The chimes on the porch were silent. The entire world seemed dead. Dead, that was, except for the scarecrow, dancing on its post...
________________________________________________________
Lisa was already in trouble when she said: "Are you really going to park here?"
It wasn't the first snide comment to leave her lips. All night, she had been needling him. All night, there had been flippant remarks and nagging questions. At home: Why was the reservation for so late? Was he really going to wear that shirt? In the car: Don't play that song, put on something else. He should have made a left, this way took longer. At the restaurant: The music was boring. The room was hot. The food was bland.
Jason had been patient. Yes, the reservation was for an evening seating, and yes, he wore the shirt, it was a polo, it was fine. Their dinner had been perfectly acceptable, yet Lisa had found something to complain about every step of the way. Now, it was late. He was tired, and more than a little frustrated about how the evening had gone. They had finally made it home, and just as they pulled up to the house Lisa decided to lay one more straw on the back of a very weary camel.
"Are you really going to park here?"
Jason turned to explain that yes, he was going to park here, they were in front of the house so what the hell did it matter, when he saw a thin white ribbon tied in Lisa's hair, and suddenly everything changed.
Had she been wearing it this whole time? No, that was impossible. He had been looking at her the entire evening and it hadn't been there. And it wasn't something he would have easily missed. Though small in size, the ribbon was massive in its implications. It was a sign that they were no longer their everyday selves, that they had assumed new roles in their relationship. For him, the ribbon was a symbol of power, and permission. For her, trust, and surrender.
And now there it was, staring at him innocently from atop her head, asking what he was going to do about it.
She must have put it on in the bathroom
, Jason thought.
Or maybe as we were getting in the car.
It didn't really matter; all that mattered was that it was there. It explained everything: the snide comments, the rolling eyes, the inexhaustible brat that had nipped at his heels for the past three hours. She had pushed him as hard as she could, and now she was letting him off the leash, just to see what would happen.
It was obvious what would happen: she was going to be punished. The question was...how?
Then, without thinking, he knew.
"No," he sighed. "I guess not. But I need to move something from the trunk, can you help me?" It was an odd request, one that should have set off alarm bells, but the defeat in his voice threw Lisa off guard, and when he got out of the car, she followed.
They made their way to the trunk. He popped it open. It was empty, save for a small bag they sometimes brought while camping. Lisa said, "Wow. You really need help moving this?" No response. It was only when she glanced up and saw the look in his eye that red flags began to wave, but by then it was too late. He wrapped his arms around her, wrestled her into the trunk, and slammed it closed.
There came a muffled cry: "
Hey! Let me out, you jerk!
" It was cut off as the engine roared to life and the car pulled away from the curb.
It was the middle of the night. The moon shone down on an empty road. Jason cracked his windows and drove slowly, savoring the wind whistling across his face. It was a warm night. The air felt good on his cheeks. Eventually he pulled over and killed the engine. The wind disappeared, and the world fell quiet. Gravel crunched underfoot as Jason stepped out and walked to trunk. It opened. Lisa looked up at him, mouth agape.
"Get out."
Lisa frowned. She hadn't spoken. But Jason had, and his tone confirmed what she suspected: he had seen the ribbon in her hair. She thought he would not notice until they were inside the house. She thought wrong.
She climbed out of the car, moving carefully so as not to tear her dress. For a moment it seemed he would help her out, but when she reached for his hand he swatted her away, instead grabbing the camping bag that had rattled next to her as they flew down the road. As soon as she was standing Jason grabbed her throat and pulled her face up close to his.
"You've really been on one tonight, haven't you?"
"I don't know what-"
He slapped her. Not hard, but hard enough. He patted her cheek. "You don't get to feign ignorance with me. Not after the shit you've pulled." The hand on her throat tightened, and he pressed his lips to her ear. "Say, 'I'm sorry, daddy.'"
"I'm sorry, daddy." The response came a little too quick, and Lisa added, "...that you slap like a little bitch."
There she was. There was the smarmy brat who had been poking him all night. They had unfinished business, and now that she was here, they could see to it. Or rather, see to
her
.
He slapped her again, this time not holding back. Then he shoved her head into the trunk, and slid her dress above her waist. What followed was one of the most intense spankings he ever had to administer. By the end he was panting from exertion, and both his hands were wore. At first Lisa laughed, but by the end the laughs had turned to sobs. There were tears in her eyes, and not just from pain; the spanking brought Lisa a release that rivaled any orgasm she had ever known.
When the spanking came to an end Lisa felt her panties being pulled to the side. Two of Jason's fingers reached down and felt for the entrance of her vagina, found it, and were thrust in as far as they could go. Lisa screamed.
"That's what I want to hear," Jason said, wiggling his fingers inside her. "A screaming brat is a healthy brat. It means she's taking her medicine. Now then..." He removed his fingers, grabbed her dress, and pulled down. Her boobs bounced in her bra as the gown was yanked to her waist.
"Take off your underwear."
"But...daddy...then I'll be naked."
As with the rest of the night, it was the wrong thing to say. He grabbed her hair, pulled her close and whispered: "That skimpy dress suggests a certain desire on that front. And you'll still be wearing it, so no, you won't be naked. Now give me your bra, and your panties, and say, 'Thank you, daddy,' before I decide the dress comes off as well."
She slid off her panties, then unhooked her bra, spilling her breasts into the moonlight. Despite the warm air her nipples were hard as stones. "Thank you, daddy," she said, surrendering her undergarments.
Jason threw the bra and panties in the trunk and slammed it shut. Then he opened the camping bag and removed a length of rope. A minute later her arms were bound behind her, pulling her shoulders back and thrusting out her bare chest. Something else was removed from the bag: a collar with a long leather leash clipped to its side. The collar went around her neck, and he gave the leash a tug. "Okay, princess, let's go."
"Daddy, wait! Please pull up my dress."
He thought for a moment. "Okay." He pulled up her dress. Only to her stomach, leaving her tits out and the hemline dangerously high on her thighs, but pulled up all the same.
They began to walk. At first Lisa dragged her feet, but soon found herself on a much shorter leash, being whipped along by its leather end. Thank god she had passed up heels for sneakers. They were a mile from home, and this walk would be torture enough without having to worry about her feet.
The moon hung low in the sky. It illuminated the surrounding farms, their fields of wheat and corn dotted with the occasional orchard. It also spotlighted Jason and Lisa as they made their way down the straight and narrow lane. They were the only ones out and would have been impossible to miss from a passing car, or from the windows of any of the houses tucked amongst the fields. All of them were dark and still, but that didn't mean sleepless eyes weren't gazing out from the shadows.
The collar at her neck gave a tug. Lisa came to a halt while Jason moved to face her. He lowered his head to her chest, pulling one nipple into his mouth while pinching and rolling the other between his fingers.
Lisa's mouth fell open and her eyes pinched shut. The breath she let out had the full force of a scream bubbling just below the surface. She leaned towards him, feeding him as much of her breasts as he would take. The sucks became nibbles. The pinches grew sharp. Then he switched sides. One nipple was covered in spit and had to be gripped extra tight to keep from slipping away. The other, hard and sore, was sucked within an inch of its life. Now the scream came rushing to the surface.
"None of that, now." Jason lifted away from her chest, placed the leash in her mouth, and wound it tight around her head. As the gag took affect her scream was cut to a whimper. He said, "That's better. You were a good girl just now, so I'm going to let you choose: do you want me to pull your dress all the way up?"
Lisa's eyes went wide, and she nodded eagerly. Jason grasped the sides of the dress and lifted it up her body, stopping only to tuck away her breasts. Now her chest was covered, but the dress, already short to begin with, had scrunched up as it was raised and lowered, and now only hid half of what it was supposed to. Her stomach, ass, and pussy were out in the open, a second act for whatever audience gazed at her through their windows.
"
'aady! 'at's 'ot hair!"
"Of course it's fair. This is exactly what you asked for." He gave her a wicked smile. "I'm happy to pull it down again if you want, but if not then we better get moving. We still have a long way to go, and unless you want to be out here when the sun comes up..."
She took his meaning and set off at a hurried pace. With her lower half exposed the night air suddenly took on a whole new feel. A warm current swept through her legs, and she realized just how wet she was as the air cooled the glistening patches of cum coating her thighs and clit. The wind tickled her pussy, and teased her asshole as it raced up between her cheeks. Lisa giggled. Here she was, arms bound behind her, force marched half-naked down the road like a sexual prisoner. She had never felt more alive.
Jason had no problem keeping up with his excited girl. Every now and then he would wrap his arms around her, bringing her to a stop before reaching down to play with her pussy. His fingers made short work of her sanity, massaging her labia and teasing her clit before working their way into her vagina. She was powerless to stop him, but the moans emanating from her gag and the way she leaned against him suggested that she didn't want to. An orgasm had been building inside her ever since that tremendous spanking, and with the help of his fingers she was creeping ever closer to it.
"
'aady?
" she said through the gag, "
'ay I 'leass 'um
?"
"Sorry love, couldn't hear you."
"
