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“I’m not sure, Rick. It looks… nasty,” said Leah. She might have been too eager for her spanking.
“It’s quite light. See?” He handed her the driftwood and she had to admit it wasn’t a plank; it was two feet long and four or so inches wide at the maximum. It certainly had little weight to it, considering its size.
“Alright,” she said nervously.
“Down there,” He pointed to the little valley between the dunes. “Kneel down there on all fours.”
Leah did as he requested. Her knees and lower legs pressed into the fine grains, sinking past the layer of heat into the colder one. She spread her fingers, watching the sand seep around them, covering each one in turn until they nearly disappeared. Her heart pounded and the sun beat down on her back.
“Undo your shorts’ button.” He came to kneel next to her.
“Rick!”
“If I’m going to spank you, you’ll do as I tell you,” he said in a sharper tone. It made it easier for her, not harder, as if his demeanour had importance. It was a pretence at discipline, but it helped her find the right spot in her mind. She had asked, now she was required to submit.
She undid the button. His hand reached round and lowered the zip. He tugged her shorts over the curvature of her bottom and down her thighs. To her surprise, he then lowered her knickers too, baring her bottom completely.
“There, such a gorgeous sight.”
He stroked her rump, small circles on each cheek with his hand. Something wet spread across one cheek—his tongue!—and she lurched forward with astonishment. He licked her, curling his tongue about her lobe, tickling and moistening her skin. Rick continued his oral exploration, tasting her skin, the salty sea air adding to the flavour, she guessed, because he made noises of appreciation. Throughout, his fingers traced around her exposed clitoris, neither applying pressure nor tickling, a slow waltz of his fingertip, causing her to judder and pant.
Rick ceased his teasing and knelt back, chuckling slightly at her panting. Leah’s hands had disappeared completely into the sand. She had been oblivious to their vanishing act; they were encased in cold granules, anchoring her to the spot, just like her mind had been. She began to control her breathing, lengthening her breaths until she felt calmer.
“Now, listen carefully, Miss Leah,” he said quietly into her ear. “We have to be quick, just in case anyone comes. No time for a warm-up. I’m going to give you twenty swats with this driftwood board—rapidly, one after the other and then stop. You have to be very quiet and keep still, so I don’t land it too high or low. Understand?”
She tried to nod her head.
“Say it,” he said firmly.
“I understand,” she repeated. Between her legs, her pussy already seemed to be leaking. Each time he spoke to her, she clenched her muscles, fighting the impulse to orgasm. Nervous about the pain—would it hurt more than she could bear?—and the fear of discovery, she swam in a pool of adrenaline. The only observers were the seagulls, darting and dive-bombing from above.
Rick stayed on his knees, but lifted himself up taller. One hand on her shoulders, the other poised ready, measuring the distance. Leah closed her eyes tight, scrunched a handful of cool sand between her fingers, fisted her knuckles tight, and tried hard to breathe.
The driftwood landed with a thud. A deep smack against her flesh. At first she didn’t feel anything, then came the heat. She grunted.
“Alright?” he asked, tapping her back.
“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Here come the twenty, just like that one,” he warned and she inhaled deeply, ready to receive his offering.
They came like machine-gun fire, one every second, harsher than a firm tap, softer than a swinging blow. In between, Rick had found the perfect pace, power, and strength. She stayed firm on all fours; only for the last few did her hips give and ease away from his improvised spanking tool.
She let out a long groan at the end. The heat had grown rapidly, turning her bottom sore and as hot as the sun on her skin. To her it was perfect—the spanking she had craved for weeks.
His finger plunged into her hole, moving rapidly in and out.
“You’re so wet,” he said excitedly. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“Yes, yes!” she gasped.
He knelt behind her, and she heard his frantic attempts to obtain the right angle. His tip nudged, pushed, and then banged into her with one massive swing of his hips. The weight of his body knocked her down onto her forearms and her forehead hit the sand. A sudden rush of breeze caught the sand, blowing it over her head and arms. She had to keep her mouth shut, her eyes too. The tiny sandstorm passed over her, dusting her skin.
Her vagina stretched as he plundered deep, harder, almost rampantly in his urgency to complete. Fired up by her spanking, her nerves had brought all of her senses alive. She smelt the seaweed, the marram grass, even the sand had an aroma. Flaring her nostrils, she sucked more air into her lungs. The sand had started to rub abrasively on her knees and elbows. Leah didn’t care; she had all of her mind focused on her sex.
Gripping her waist tightly, he didn’t stop thrusting into her, a rapid, continuous fucking, slapping hard into her sore bottom and she soared like the gulls. Away in the distance was the low rumble of waves crashing one after the other onto the beach. A gentle roar that had become more apparent now her ears were closer to the ground. It reverberated and soothed, creating a hypnotic rhythm; another one to add to the one Rick was perpetrating with his rocking motion.
“I’m coming!” she screeched.
