The Dark Forest: A Collection Of Erotic Fairytales(39)

Beatrice turned back to finish saddling the horse. She was unprepared for the strong arm that wrapped around her waist, pulling her off her feet.

“Let me go you…you beast…you liar…you prince!” she raged as she scratched at his hold on her.

“Congratulations, I believe you are the first person to ever use the title prince as a curse,” chuckled Rhys as he ignored her cries. Pulling her fighting and twisting form over to the saddle he’d prepared.

Despite her struggles, he managed to remove her dress and underthings. Beatrice was left in only her lace stockings and riding boots. Seeing her naked in such a wild, natural setting aroused him to an almost painful degree.

“On your knees.”

“You’re insane! Give me back my dress!” cried Beatrice as she crossed her arms over her breasts and thighs.

Rhys flicked his wrist, whipping a thick leather strap around her upper thigh.

Beatrice screamed in pain as she started to back away.

Rhys cracked the leather strap again, this time catching her on her right buttock.

“On your knees,” he growled.

Beatrice turned to run but the moment she got to the stable door, she realized she would be unable to lift the iron bar. It was too late, Rhys was behind her. Taking a fistful of her tangled locks as they tumbled out of her loose chignon, Rhys held her body still as he slapped the leather strap across her bottom cheeks several times.

Beatrice cried out as the hard leather made contact with her soft bottom. The pain was sharper more intense than when he had spanked her with his hand.

“Stop! It hurts! Stop!”

“On your knees.”

Seeing no other escape, Beatrice scurried over to the saddle he had prepared. Kneeling on the blanket.

“Good girl.”

“You can spank me all you want. It won’t change my mind,” she rebelled.

“Oh, I’m not just going to spank you,” said Rhys ominously. “Lay over the saddle.”

“But…you can’t…”

“I’m waiting, Bea,” he said with an edge to his voice.

Beatrice laid across the saddle. The cold leather causing her nipples to harden.

“Why am I punishing you?”

“Because you’re a brute and a bastard,” she seethed.

Rhys swatted her bottom with the leather strap. Watching as a crimson stripe rose on her creamy skin.

“Ow! Ow! Because I ran away!”

Rhys strapped her again, this time lower. The leather kissing her skin on the upper thigh just below the full curve of her bottom.

“Ow! Please! Stop!” she cried.

Rhys swatted her a third time, the leather making a threatening crack in the mostly silent stable.

“I broke my promise. I was going to ride astride,” she offered through her tears.

“You denied us. You denied this. I will be your husband. And not because of some trivial marriage contract and not because of my father and definitely not because of yours. Because of us. Because you need this. You need me. You need someone strong to rein in your tempestuous ways.”

Beatrice refused to acknowledge the truth of his words, petulantly keeping her lips shut.

Rhys applied the leather strap several more times. Not stopping till her bottom glowed a bright red.

Beatrice bit down on the thick leather saddle flap to keep from screaming out. The intense burning. Her bottom felt swollen. The skin tight and strained.

Rhys lowered the leather strap as he knelt behind her. Placing his hand on her bare bottom, he delighted in the heat radiating off her skin. Moving his hand in large circles, he felt her body shiver and wince from the contact.

Each sweep of his hand brought a fresh onslaught of agony. Beatrice tried to focus on the tangy taste of the leather in her mouth as she ground her teeth into the saddle flap.

“Bite down harder, love, because your real punishment is about to start,” warned Rhys.

Beatrice whimpered as she tried to look over her shoulder. Rhys spanked her bottom.

“Eyes up front. Shift your hips back and lean forward.”

Before she could even try to disobey, Rhys splayed his large hands over her smaller hips and adjusted her position for himself. She was now lying over the leather saddle with her head closer to the ground, her punished bottom at a mortifying angle in the air.

Rhys pushed two fingers between her thighs, sliding them along her slick passage. She could deny them, deny him, deny everything all she wanted, but her body would always tell the truth.

Beatrice moaned and unwittingly shifted her hips, grinding them down on his long fingers.

Rhys opened her bottom cheeks wide, exposing her pink, hidden passage. Rubbing the pad of his thumb in small circles, he watched as her passage clenched and twitched. Using her own dew, he pushed his thumb in till the first knuckle.

Beatrice whimpered. It felt strange and wrong. She tried to shy her hips forward away from the intrusion but his strong grasp wouldn’t allow it.

“You have to stop. It feels wrong,” she whined.

Rhys pushed his thumb in further, feeling the tight clench of her body. Knowing it would soon be gripping his cock.

“Oh! Oh! Stop! Oh god! That hurt!”

Rhys pulled his thumb free. Watching as her small hole, slightly opened from his thumb, clenched closed again. Placing a hand on her lower back, he pressed down, forcing her bottom up even higher. Rhys leaned down. Her pretty cunny was on display between her pinkened thighs. Using the tip of his tongue, he flicked her sensitive bud.