The Dark Forest: A Collection Of Erotic Fairytales(69)

“Now!” he barked, in a tone which brooked no nonsense.

Desperate to please him, she leapt up, her breathing shallow, her heart hammering against her ribs. “A-all right,” she stammered.

“The correct answer is ‘Yes, Sir,’“ he said sternly.

“Y-yes S-sir.” With trembling fingers, she pushed up the miniskirt and leaned over the arm of the sofa. Her head was almost in Zainon’s lap and another wave of hot shame flooded her cheeks.

For an interminable length of time, he simply sat there, his jean-clad thigh so close to her head it was almost touching her hair, and she waited, hardly daring to breathe.

Then, at last, he got up and moved behind her.

“Are you owned?” he said suddenly.

Ella was finding it difficult to concentrate as he was running a single fingertip down over her buttock. “I—what?”

“I see faded marks here. Do you belong to anyone?”

Only my stepmother. Somehow sensing that wasn’t what he meant, she shook her head. “No. I mean, no, Sir.”

“So who spanked you last?”

“Nathan.”

“And who is he?”

“My stepbrother,” she whispered.

“But he doesn’t own you?”

Despite herself, she let out a faint giggle. “No, Sir. Definitely not.”

“Very well. Then let us begin. Remember your safeword.”

As Zainon’s nimble fingers dug into the waistband of her panties and began to draw them down her legs, Ella’s trembling increased until she was clutching the arm of the sofa so hard her knuckles ached from the strain.

But it wasn’t fear. Well, not just.

I’m excited, she realized with a start, once again focusing on that pulsating, aching spot between her thighs as a rush of cool air swept over the now bare flesh.

The whole situation was so bizarre, so surreal, and yet despite her shame, her nerves, and her dire lack of understanding as to why he was about to spank her, it all somehow felt right.

In an anonymous warehouse, bending over the arm of a couch in a back room, her skirt rucked up around her waist and having her last vestige of modesty removed by this mysterious, saturnine, gorgeous man, Ella realized she didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Smack! She jumped at the first slap of his palm against her bare ass but it didn’t really hurt. It was nothing compared to what she was used to. Nor was the second, or the third…

In fact, as Zainon began to spank her in a steady rhythm, alternating swats, she closed her eyes and began to relish it. Every time his broad hand met her naked flesh, that delicious ache between her legs grew more acute, until she was arching her back, thrusting her ass out, desperate for more.

‘And do you enjoy it?’ Zainon’s question returned to her mind and she realized what he had meant. Ella was enjoying it. More than she ever could have believed possible. She couldn’t understand why, and she didn’t want to think about it. Not now. She just wanted to experience, to enjoy. To surrender.



This petite blonde girl was an enigma, Zainon thought as he peppered her gorgeous behind with smacks until the skin began to take on a slightly rosy hue. And she was tough, too, as she wasn’t giving any kind of sign that there was any discomfort.

Yet. But then, I enjoy a challenge. Reassured that there had already been fading bruises on her backside before he’d even begun, he felt able to increase the strength of his swats—and did so—until he was spanking her hard and fast.

Still she remained silent. Still she pushed back as if begging for more. That tiny arch of her back and the way her breath came in short little gasps were the only signs that she was even feeling anything.

And it definitely wasn’t pain.

Her size and meek demeanor, the way she didn’t argue or mouth off, all combined to feed the sadistic streak he was always so careful to suppress.

He wanted to hurt her. He wanted make her cry out.

After several swats to the backs of her thighs—which she also took without a murmur—he paused and undid his belt. As he slid the leather from the loops on his jeans, he feasted his eyes on her formerly pale flesh and the glistening between her thighs. It was truly a breathtaking sight, and he couldn’t wait to sink deep inside that secret, hot, wet place…

But not yet. First, he would unleash a little more of the beast within. It was partly curiosity—she was so damn obedient. And there was something else, too; this girl was appealing to his dark side more than any he had encountered in a while.

Folding his belt in half, he gripped the buckle and the end firmly and raised his arm. “Do you like leather?” he said, not giving her even a second to answer before he slashed it down across both her ass cheeks.

“I like you,” she whispered, not giving so much as a hiss of pain.

He whipped her again, harder.

Then again, where her buttocks met her thighs.

Still nothing. Christ, the girl was as infuriating as she was mysterious.

“Spread your thighs,” he barked, astounded when she did so without hesitation.

It had been a while since Zainon had been able to play hard and he savored the old familiar rush as he raised the belt again, assessing his target, wondering how far he could push her. Wondering how far he had to go before she’d even show the slightest bit of pain.

Over and over again he brought the folded leather down over her butt, her thighs, each stroke a little harder than the last… and still Ella arched her back, presenting herself perfectly, her thighs spread, her pink, glistening sex winking invitingly at him.