CHAPTER 8
Valerie
My whole body went hot and cold at once.
“See that fallen log?” He gestured to a thick trunk lying across the path ahead. “Go bend over it.”
“Chris, please?—”
“I said bend over it. Or I can make you, and then the punishment will be twice as long.”
My feet moved without my conscious permission, carrying me to the log. My hands trembled as I leaned forward, bracing myself against the rough bark.
“All the way,” Chris commanded. “Lay your chest flat on the log.”
I obeyed, the bark scratching through my shirt as I lowered myself down. The position left my bottom raised high, vulnerable and exposed.
I heard Chris move behind me. Heard a sound I thought must be a knife being unsheathed.
Oh, God.What was he going to do?
There was a sharp crack, and I turned my head to see him cutting a thin branch from a nearby tree. He stripped the leaves from it methodically, creating a long, flexible switch.
“Chris… sir… no, please?—”
“Be quiet.” He moved behind me again. “I’m going to take your jeans down now.”
I felt his hands at my waist, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my jeans. The button popped open and then he was pulling them down, the denim sliding over my hips, down my thighs, bunching at my knees.
The cool mountain air hit my legs and I squeezed my eyes shut, my face burning with humiliation. At least I still had my panties. At least?—
“Please,” I gasped, feeling his fingers at the waistband of my underwear. “Please don’t take down my panties. Please, Chris, I’m begging you?—”
“I have to take down your panties, Valerie.” His voice was maddeningly calm. “A wife always gets it on the bare bottom. You should get used to that.”
“Please—”
But he was already pulling them down, exposing me completely. I felt the fabric slide over my bottom cheeks, felt the air against my most private places, and a sob tore from my throat.
“Interesting,” Chris said quietly, and I heard him step back slightly. I knew he was looking at me. Inspecting me. Seeing everything. “You have a very strong reaction to being bared and inspected, don’t you?”
I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t admit that he was right, that having him look at my exposed bottom and pussy made something clench deep inside me, made that terrible heat bloom between my legs.
“I can tell,” he continued, “so don’t bother lying. I think I’m going to have to do this frequently. Bare you and inspect you regularly, to train you to be the wife I’m entitled to. The wife who doesn’t lie to her husband or run away from him.”
Oh, God.He was going to make this a regular thing. Make me bend over and pull down my panties and let him look at me whenever he decided I needed it.
The thought made my pussy clench and I bit my lip hard, trying not to whimper.
“Stay exactly like that,” Chris commanded. “Don’t move.”
The anticipation was almost worse than the punishment itself. I lay there bent over the log, my jeans and panties around my knees, my bottom completely bare to the mountain air and my husband’s eyes. Birds sang in the trees above us. Somewhere in the distance I could hear the spring burbling. Anyone could come down this trail and see me like this.
The mortification felt overwhelming, but the arousal it brought seemed much worse.
Finally I heard the crunch of Chris’s boots again. Then I heard the whistle of the switch cutting through the air as he tested it.
“You’re going to count each stroke,” he said. “If you lose count, we start over. Do you understand?”
