When she told him he was a pansy for letting her brat him so much, he decided it was time to teach her a lesson. He didn't take it personally - in fact, he smiled at the audacity of the little slut, but he also knew that it was time she understood that, although he patiently allowed her barbs and jabs, he also was her Dominant and her place was at his feet.
He called her Monday afternoon - she had been traveling for business, and had sent her little pokes at him via e-mail or text message. Much easier to brat your Dom when you are a three-and-a-half hour flight away. Her return to town gave him the opportunity to set up her punishment.
"What are you doing Thursday afternoon, my dear?" he asked, voice pitched just the way he knew made her knees weak.
"Whatever you tell me, Sir," was her response. What she did not say, but he could hear in the tremor of her voice, was that she knew she had pushed him too far and he was not going to allow her to get away with it.
"You will meet me at the trail head off of the Martin Highway, then. You know the one just past mile 23? I will see you at one." He hung up. He did not give her the opportunity to respond.
Sir, are you mad at me? She texted him three hours later.
No, my dear. I am not. Was all he replied.
Thursday came and she spent the morning hiding behind the door of her office, trembling each time the phone rang, hoping it was him and dreading that it might be. She was a supervisor and set her own hours with the company, and as she had just finished a week-long trip for some sales-meetings, she had Friday off and was free to leave early this day for a "long lunch."
She closed her office door and changed into hiking clothes. A favorite pair of running shoes, a pair of running shorts, sports bra, T-shirt and sweatshirt. She pulled her thick, dark mane into a ponytail and put on her favorite pair of sunglasses as she headed out the door.
"I think I'll go spend some time on the trails," she commented to her secretary, tossing the comment over a shoulder as she headed for the stairs rather than the elevator. Seventeen flights down and still her knees trembled. What was he going to do to her for her misbehavior?
Living in a city on the edge of the mountains gave both he and her ample opportunity to spend hour after hour in the outdoors. Thick woodlands, icy streams, wildflowers, steady sunshine. Even when they were not together, the two of them spent time out of doors enjoying the magnificent nature around them. The trail he had directed her to was a perfect example, skirting the side of the mountain that embraced their small city, and rising up to meet the taller mountains of the range behind it. If you hiked far enough, you came to a pristine lake, a jewel resting in the folds of the mountain. They had picnicked there often.
He was standing next to his car as she pulled in to the trail head. There were no other cars there. Not on a Thursday afternoon. The trail belonged to them, and she got even more nervous, realizing that there probably wasn't another human around for at least ten miles. In a forest like this, no one could hear her scream.
Her greeting "Hi," was tenuous at best. The look on his face as he shouldered a little day pack said that this was not the time for banter.
"Hello."
His voice was flat. Uh, oh, she thought.
"Shall we hike then?" she managed.
His only reply was a nod toward the trail and a gesture indicating she should proceed first.
He did not comment as they made their way into the tree line. He did not comment when they reached a little clearing and she paused to sip from a water bottle slung at her waist. In fact, he did nothing but stoically march onward while her mind clamored to escape her lips with an apology for her transgressions.
When she did manage a "Sir, I ..." he simply said, "No," and brushed past her. He had NEVER not spoken to her like this. What had she gotten herself in to?
They could no longer hear any sounds from the highway they had left behind when suddenly he was beside her. Before she realized what was happening, he had grabbed her right wrist and effortlessly twisted her arm behind her back. His right hand dug into her thick ponytail and yanked her head back. She sucked in her breath, her eyes widening in fear as she realized he had begun her punishment.
"You've been naughty, haven't you, slut?" he growled into her ear. "You forgot who is your Sir, and how to speak respectfully to him, didn't you?"
She muttered a reply of some sort, her mind racing with fear at his sudden, powerful assertion of control.
"You'll have to do better than that, slut," again in her ear. He held her so close she could smell the light spice of his cologne and the faint hint of cigar smoke that he wore like an aura, just enough to tantalize her.
He turned her off of the trail then, marching her in this awkward position, arm forced painfully behind her back and hair firmly in his grasp. She stumbled, as her eyes were pointed upward and she could not see the ground in front of her, but he held her up by the hair mostly and moved her toward his goal, a large, flat rock about the height a coffee table in a little glade less than 100 feet from the trail.
She flushed as she realized she was completely aroused. She could feel her nipples harden and the heat between her legs was almost unbearable. She wanted to come right then and there.
Roughly, he spun her around, pushing her down to her knees. The thick mat of pine needles dug into her pale flesh and she nearly lost control as he ripped down the back of her shorts, exposing her ass.
