Paddled In the Boondocks

Copyright 2011 Christopher D.B.

This story is the second part in a series.  The original story is tilted, Off-Road Goddess.  You will find it here at bdsmlibrary.com.

Driving for a while east of the city on a two lane state highway, I easily found the turnoff I was looking for onto a secondary road.  Several miles later and just past a cluster of grain silos, I found the next turn which led down a narrow winding road.  I had no GPS system in my old car and hadn’t bothered to look up the location on any internet map before I left my apartment, as the directions she had given me were quite clear.

It had been about a month ago when I was on an overnight four-wheeling trip with a buddy and his friends where I was introduced to Julia.  A stunning brunette who I quickly learned had a taste for dominating her boyfriends.  When I had told her that was a fantasy of mine, Julia and I soon found our selves conveniently away from the others for a spontaneous session of female domination.

I had cleaned and worshipped her muddy boots, had my bare ass whipped with her belt, and was then teased and denied of sexual relief.  Rough as it had been, submitting to Miss Julia, as she insisted on being called, had been my fantasy come true and was more arousing than I could have imagined.  Unfortunately our session was soon over and the next morning she departed before I could give her my phone number.

Early this Saturday morning I had received a call from Julia.  It seems she managed to get my phone number through some others who had been on that trip.  Oddly enough one of the first questions she asked me was whether or not I had dated anyone in the weeks since we had met.  When I told her the answer was no, she asked if I still had an interest in being dominated.  Of course my answer was yes, and then she insisted that I drive out to the country and visit with her for a few hours.

My anticipation had been building over the miles to the point where it was tough to concentrate and I was constantly glancing at the directions I had written down.  Julia had told me during our initial session that she owned a pair of thigh high spike heeled boots and I hoped she would be wearing them.

Over the crest of a hill I spotted the number I was looking for on an oversized rural mailbox protected from baseball bats with a rusty metal cage, and I made my final turn into a gravel driveway.

There was a modest white farmhouse here, set back from the road, and in the large side yard I saw an elderly man and woman working in a garden.  The man was driving a small ancient tractor that was pulling a tilling machine, and the woman was unloading flats of seedlings from the bed of a rusty pickup.

I was somewhat surprised to see anyone else here, but as they gave me a casual glance and half a wave, I now realized why Julia had asked what my car looked like.  She must have told the old folks that company was expected.  It occurred to me that they might be her parents and Julia lived here on their property.

Following the directions, I stayed on the gravel driveway which continued past the house and small pole barn which I could see through the open sliding door was used as a workshop.  At that point the drive narrowed and entered a wooded area.  I passed a small pond on my right, the far bank of which was nicely cleared and had a picnic table and a blackened fire pit close to a small fishing pier.

After rounding a sharp bend in the road I entered an open spot in the woods where a mobile home was parked.  While the gravel drive continued on, perhaps circling to the far side of the pond, Julia’s yellow jeep was parked here so I pulled up beside it.  Although the jeep sported the cocky spare tire cover I had seen before, ‘Jeeps are for girls,’ there was something different about it that I could not place.

The mobile home was old and similar to one that a friend of mine had rented several years ago in college.  A ten by fifty, he had called it, and this one had the same angular front end, jalousie windows, and round porthole on the front door.  The big difference was that this trailer looked as though it had been well cared for over the decades and may have even been recently painted.  A large wooden deck had been built out front and sported some lawn furniture and a covered barbecue grill was off to one side.

No sooner had I stepped out of my car when the front door opened and Julia stepped out on the deck.  She was as beautiful as I remembered, with her long wavy dark hair looking freshly styled and her face wearing a provocative smile.  Dressed in a low cut red tank top with narrow black lace trim, a denim miniskirt that was well above her knees, and what looked like the same black rubber riding boots I had licked nearly one month ago.

“Get inside, Eric” she ordered.

“Yes, Miss Julia,” I answered and hurried up the short flight of steps and onto the deck.  Julia followed me inside and closed the door behind us.

“Strip naked, fold your clothes neatly, and place them next to the door,” she commanded.  There was evidently no time for small talk and our session had already begun.

Casually glancing around as I removed my clothes, I saw a few mounted deer heads on a living room wall and an empty gun rack by the front door.  The sparse furnishings looked rugged but comfortable, and there was a noticeable lack of any personal clutter.  I quickly assumed that this was not where Julia lived and that this trailer served as a hunting lodge and weekend retreat for friends and family members of the elderly couple who were probably planting their garden at this moment.

Julia leaned a hip against the counter which separated the living room from the small kitchen and ordered me to kneel in front of her.

“You remembered to address me as Miss Julia,” she said.  “Do you remember what my number one rule is?”

“Yes, Miss Julia.  Do as you say,” I replied.

“Very good.  You said you hadn’t dated anyone since we last met.  You by chance gotten laid?” she asked.  My response was no.

“I suppose you’ve jerked off a few times,” she said mockingly, lightly brushing the toe of a boot against my hardening cock.  “You been jerking off at work?” she demanded to know.

“No, Miss Julia,” I answered truthfully.  Around the waist of her denim skirt was the same wide black leather belt with twin rows of large chrome grommets which she had whipped me with on our last encounter as punishment when I confessed to masturbating in the restroom at my job.  Exciting as it had been to live my fantasy of being punished by a dominatrix, the whipping had been very painful.  I was willing to submit to more punishment but at the same time dreaded the thought of her removing that belt.

“Were you thinking of me when you were jerking off?” she asked, grabbing a handful of my hair.

“Yes, Miss Julia,” I answered.

“You thought of me every time you played with yourself?  You didn’t look at any porn?” Julia questioned.  “I find that hard to believe.”

“Sometimes I thought of you, Miss Julia.  Other times, yes, I did look at porn,” I confessed, though I assumed that would be an offense I would soon be punished for.

“You were pretty eager to come out here all this way to spend some quality time with me,” Julia said in an accusing tone.  “Have you been pining for me?”  I responded,

“Yes, Miss Julia.”

She reached for something on the counter behind her, saying that she had some pine for me, whatever that meant.  When she ordered me to stand up and walk into the kitchen I saw that she was holding a small wooden paddle, presumably made out of pine.

Julia pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and told me to bend over the back of the chair, my hands resting on the seat.

“This is a special paddle,” she explained and stood beside me, holding the paddle down low so I could see it from my vulnerable position.  It was about the length of a ping pong paddle, but narrower and much thicker, as if cut from a piece of one-by-four.  The corners were heavily rounded and a single large hole had been bored in the face of the paddle to cut down on air resistance.  The light wood had a soft glow as if sealed with a thin coat of varnish.  Though the design was simple and could have been made with a minimal amount of tools or skill, I had no doubt that in Julia’s hands it would hurt as much as her belt, and possibly more.

“An ex-boyfriend of mine made this for me years ago,” Julia explained.  “It was a gift and he quickly regretted giving it to me.  It’s small enough to fit in a purse so I often have it with me.  Consider yourself warned.”  She walked slowly behind me, the rubber soles of her boots quiet on the linoleum floor.

“Every boyfriend of mine since then has learned to fear this paddle.  If you want to spend any quality time with me I think it’s only reasonable that you and this paddle are properly introduced,” she said as she rested one hand lightly on the small of my back.

I knew what was coming next but there was no way I could have mentally prepared myself.  The thick, heavy, yet aerodynamically enhanced paddle landed squarely on the left cheek of my ass with a loud smack.  Gritting my teeth I gave a low grunt, knowing that she would be angry if I cried out.

Expecting the next swat to land on the opposite cheek, I was painfully caught off guard when she struck me again in exactly the same spot.  It was only after several more swats that I was somewhat relieved to be repeatedly paddled on the opposite cheek of my buttocks.

When Julia started spanking me on the left butt cheek again, the blows came quicker and felt harder.  After she had paddled me for what was probably just a short time, I found that I couldn’t take it any more.  No safe word had been agreed on, as I thought would be customary, but I knew of one that seemed to be common.

“Mercy!  Miss Julia,” I cried out.

The spanking stopped abruptly and she gave a heavy disappointed sigh.

“Can’t take it.  Huh, bitch?” Julia said, though I don’t think she expected an answer.  All I could do was shake my head and squint back the tears that had started to well up in my eyes.

“There are dirty dishes in the sink.  Wash ‘em,” she ordered firmly.

Grateful that the paddling was over I quickly embraced the menial task.  Liquid soap and a sponge were by the kitchen sink and an empty drying rack was on the counter.  Perhaps she had planned in advance to have me do this chore.

There were only a handful of dishes in the sink.  What looked like the remnants of a supper and breakfast for one person.  As a bachelor I would know.  So it seemed that Julia had spent the night here.  She had wandered into the living room but I didn’t dare look over my shoulder to see what she was doing.

Once the dishes in the sink were finished I turned my attention to the stove where two dirty skillets sat on cold burners.  Although I had not been ordered to do so, I took the initiative and washed the dried film of egg from one, and some type of sauce with bits of remaining ground beef from the other.

I wiped down the counter and stovetop when I was finished.  Julia seemed to be a neat cook so there wasn’t much splatter, but I wanted to do a thorough job as well as stall for time since as long as I was working it seemed I wouldn’t be paddled.

“You’ve done enough,” Julia said.  I turned around to see her standing by the end of the counter.  For just a moment I was disappointed that she hadn’t worn her thigh high boots and began to wonder if she really owned such a pair.  That’s when she raised the paddle in one hand and pointed at the chair, which was still pulled out from the table.  “Bend over that chair again,” she ordered.

My ass was still burning and I’d have done just about anything to not be paddled again.  Standing where she was, Julia was effectively blocking me in the kitchen, the front door out of the trailer behind her.  A quick glance and I noticed that my clothes, which I had folded and placed neatly on the floor beside the door, were now gone.

  “Let’s go!” Julia said, slapping the face of the paddle against the palm of her other hand.  “Do as I say,” she said slowly.

Trapped and naked, I had no choice but to take my position bent over the kitchen chair.  I heard the sound of her boots as she walked up behind me and remembered the warning that my friend Mike had given me.  It was he that had introduced me to Julia on that overnight trip and he told me not to pursue her because she was crazy.  A loud and painful swat of the paddle landed on my ass.

“Does that hurt?” she asked sarcastically.

“Yes, Miss Julia,” I obediently answered.

“It’s a spanking.  Spanking is a punishment, so it’s supposed to hurt,” she explained nonchalantly.  “Submissive boys like you think it will be fun.  I take discipline and punishment very seriously.  You will obey me or suffer.”

With that she began to paddle me again.  I don’t know if she was swatting me harder or it was the fact that my backside still hadn’t recovered from the earlier spanking.  Either way, it hurt much worse, and it didn’t seem like she would ever stop.

I cried out for mercy, knowing that Julia would be angry but thankfully she stopped spanking me.  She gave a heavy sigh of disgust and told me to stay where I was.  I heard her walk over to the kitchen counter and pull something out of a drawer, which made me very nervous.

“Put your hands behind your back,” she ordered.  I then heard the sound of duct tape being peeled and torn from a roll.  Julia crossed my wrists over one another and secured them together behind my back with several strips of the heavy tape.  “I have another task for you, Eric,” she explained.  “I’ll have to get some things together first and I can’t have you playing with yourself while you wait.”

Then Julia had me stand up and walk through the living room and down the short hallway.  The first door on the right was a small bedroom and she directed me inside.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” she said, and then I heard the sliding door close behind me.

The bedroom was very small.  There was only room for a set of heavy bunk beds constructed of a two-by-six frame bolted together, then maybe a few feet of space clear on one side of the bunks.  The opposing wall had a built-in closet with drawers below.  One small window was on the exterior wall.  My friend in college who rented a similar trailer had used this small bedroom as his study room, placing a desk where the bunks were in this room.

Looking behind me I saw that the sliding door to the hallway was ajar by a few inches.  I had expected it to be closed all the way and possibly locked.  There were the sounds of her rummaging through some cabinets in the kitchen, and then I heard the front door open and close as she apparently went outside.

The bunks only had mattresses on them and no sheets or pillows.  This room must not see regular use.  There were several tackle boxes on the floor under the bottom bunk, and a disassembled fishing pole with an open face reel.

Testing the tape that bound my wrists behind me, I found it secure though there was a hint of stretch when I pulled at it gently.  An escape may be possible, though without my car keys or clothes I’d end up running naked through the woods.  Perhaps there was an old pair of heavy coveralls in the bedroom closet that I could pull on.  Being that this was the hunting lodge they would most likely be camouflage, which could be handy.  There may also be a pair of heavy shit kicker boots.  The elderly couple might be willing to help me if I could make it to their house by the main road.

Then again, was it necessary to escape?  If Julia intended to keep me here for the day, alternately paddling me and assigning chores, I could probably endure that.  I briefly wondered why she had chosen to hold our session here.  She might have roommates or live in an apartment with thin walls.  Perhaps she lived in the farmhouse with her parents.  The old mobile home in the woods was a comfortable and discrete location where anything could happen and no one could hear me scream for help.

The closet had sliding doors.  I thought I should at least take a peek inside and check for some clothing, so I backed up to the closet, found the recessed hand hold and slid the door open a few inches.  Turning around I saw sheets and blankets stacked in clear plastic bags on the closet floor.  Empty hangers hung on the rod above.  I would have to open the door some more for a better look.  Then there was the sound of the front door opening.  Julia was back.

I couldn’t get the closet closed before she slid open the door to the bedroom.  Thankfully she stayed in the hallway and simply ordered me to go into the living room.  The spankings I had gotten had been brutal enough.  If she found out I had been snooping in the bedroom closet, a punishable offense, I didn’t even want to imagine what she’d do to me.

Julia momentarily held my bound wrists and I briefly felt cold steel as she cut the tape loose.

“Put your shoes and socks on and then step outside,” she instructed, and it was then I noticed that my shoes and socks had been taken out of hiding and were now back by the door.

Outside I saw that a garden hose had been uncoiled from somewhere and run out by her jeep, where a bucket and some rags were now waiting.  I was not surprised when she ordered me to wash her jeep.

Although I felt awkward being outside and essentially naked, I was glad to have another duty to perform as opposed to being paddled, and washing the jeep would take longer to accomplish than cleaning the handful of dirty dishes.

Although the sun was shining, the clearing we were located in was surrounded by tall trees so it I was relatively cool in the shade.  Light mist from the hose, carried by the wind as I hosed off the jeep landed on my bare skin chilling me further.  Once I started scrubbing the vehicle down with soapy water I started to warm up from the physical effort.

It was then that I realized what was different about Julia’s jeep since the last time I saw it.  On the trail she had put a set of oversized knobby tires on it.  Play tires, she would have probably called them.  Now the jeep was fitted with what looked like all season radials on aluminum rims.

Her jeep had full doors but was fitted with a black convertible top.  I wasn’t sure if the plastic rear windows needed any special care against scratching.  Daring to catch a glimpse of Julia, I saw she was sitting on the deck in one of the lawn chairs reading a book.  I recognized the author, Janet Evanovich, as one that an ex-girlfriend read all the time.  Julia seemed to be relaxed and enjoying the small patch of sun that shone on the deck.

The jeep didn’t seem like it had been off-road in a while and had been fairly clean when I started washing it.  It would have been nicer for me if it had been coated with mud and taken a while to clean.  I didn’t dare to work too slowly.  Perhaps I would next be required to put on a coat of wax or vacuum the interior.  I spotted a small shed with an open door partially hidden around the back end of the trailer.  Most likely that was where the hose had been stored and it wouldn’t be too surprising if there was a small shop vac in there.

The washing was only half completed when I heard the rumble of an engine approaching on the gravel driveway.  I thought that Julia might order me to go inside, but instead she just casually flipped a page in her book and pushed back a lock of hair.  The old man I had seen earlier drove up on the small tractor.  Though I tried to get out of his view, I’m sure he saw that I was naked and no doubt my ass cheeks were still a dark red because they still stung.

He turned off his engine and got off of the machine.  Paying no attention to me at all he simply walked up onto the deck.

“Julia, honey,” I heard him say to her.  “I got a call from Daryl.  He said his latest batch of wine is ready.  On your way back to town you might want to swing by and pick up a couple bottles.”  She agreed that was a good idea, and then the old man told her about some other dude that had recently cut down a tree and might have some wood split already that she could take for her fireplace.

At that point I couldn’t hear much more of their conversation.  Before long the man got back on his tractor, again ignoring me as he walked by, then fired up the engine and drove back towards his house.

Judging by the conversation it seemed that the old man was not submissive to Julia, and evidently it wasn’t unusual for a naked man to be washing her jeep.  Although I heard the man refer to her place in town, that could have meant back in the city or any one of the small towns in the immediate area.

Giving the jeep a final and thorough rinse with the hose, I would have dried it off but there wasn’t a chamois lying around or even any old towels.  Julia must have seen that I was done as I heard her get up from her chair.

She came down the steps and ordered me to dump and rinse out the bucket while she inspected my job.  I had paid close attention to hosing out the fender wells but the jeep’s body was loaded with places that caught dirt and grime.  Julia would know where to look, and would probably find a spot that I missed, resulting in more punishment.

Julia spent an agonizing amount of time looking over her jeep.  When her back was to me, she bent over a few times allegedly trying to get a close look at some detail, but given the subtle tilt of hip and flourish of her inspection, I suspected that her intent was more to tease me.

Instead of ordering me to coil up the hose and put away the bucket, Julia told me to go inside.  Entering the trailer directly behind me, she placed one hand on my shoulder and steering me into the kitchen ordered me to bend over the chair again.

“Miss Julia, please, no more spanking!” I pleaded.  “If I missed a spot on your jeep just tell me where it is and I’ll clean it.”

“Silence!” she commanded.  “You washed the jeep just fine.  I just don’t think you’re familiar enough with my paddle yet.”  The tone of her voice was taunting, as she had to know I was all too familiar with her paddle, and learning to fear it as her previous boyfriends had.

The swats landed hard and square, but her pace was slower, though that wasn’t much of a relief to my already aching buttocks.  Gritting my teeth I didn’t want to cry for mercy again, and I closed my eyes tightly as they began to water, trying to stifle my groans after each loud painful swat.  Then she paused.  

“Do you want to be spanked some more?” she asked mockingly.

“No, Miss Julia,” I said, practically sobbing.

She ordered me to get down on my knees, and then she spun the chair around and sat down in front of me.  Raising one boot in front of my face, the uppers lightly splattered with water and a light film of grit on the sole from having walked on the wet gravel around the freshly washed jeep.

“Lick my boot clean, or I’ll have to spank you some more,” she ordered.

When I had licked her boots a month ago, it was after I had meticulously rinsed all the mud and grime from them.  Though not completely dirty, the thought of licking the soles of her boots now was not as appealing, however I submitted to the task rather than face another painful spanking.

The light film of mud felt gritty on my teeth and in my mouth, and it had a faint taste of soap from the wash water rinsed off of the jeep.  Although I wanted to spit it out, all I could do was swallow the dirt and continue cleaning her boot with my tongue.  She had me lick her entire boot, all the way to the top of the shaft even though that part was clean, the black rubber smooth on my tongue.

Though her legs were crossed, I thought that I might be able to catch a brief glimpse up under her short skirt, but then I thought it best not to risk a peek.  I wondered if she was wearing any panties.  If she was I assumed they’d be damp and musky by now as she clearly enjoyed being in control.

My cock started to grow and harden.  That is when Julia playfully crossed her legs the opposite way, presenting me with the dirty sole of her other boot.  Having already been through the distasteful routine of licking a dirty sole, I now took my time.  It wasn’t any more pleasant to lick off the soapy grit, but it might buy some extra time as I assumed I’d be paddled again.

“You seem to be useful for cleaning things,” Julia said softly as I slowly licked my way up the side of her boot.  “Dishes, jeeps, and of course my boots, but I think you’re a real wuss when it comes to taking a paddling.  You may not believe it but I’ve been pretty easy on you this morning.  If I have you over again and you don’t want to be spanked you’ll have to be obedient and do your best to please me.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss Julia,” I answered, though in the back of my mind I thought that if she invited me out to the country again I might suddenly have other plans.  While she was sexy and I enjoyed being dominated by her, I wasn’t sure if I could handle another session of being paddled in the boondocks.

She stood up from her chair and reached for something in a cabinet under the kitchen counter.  My clothes, packed in a neat bundle.  Julia walked over to the front door and dropped them with a soft thud on the deck outside.

“It’s time for you to leave,” she pointed a commanding finger out the door.  “Don’t ever come out here unless I invite you,” Julia warned.  “The old man has been known to shoot first and ask questions later.”

I got up from the floor, thankful that I was being released, but at the same time shocked that our time together was suddenly over.  To my surprise, as I was about to step out the door Julia lightly grabbed my shoulder, turning me to face her.  Embracing me with one arm she gave me a long lustful kiss, her tongue probing deep inside my mouth while her free hand slowly and lightly traced the route from the base of my balls up to the tip of my now hardening penis.

Daring to place an arm around her waist I was met with no resistance.  Her body was warm and her tank top lightly damp with perspiration.  Our kiss passionately continued as our tongues intertwined and her fingers lightly brushed my straining erection.  Then she gently pushed me out the door and closed it.  I heard a faint click inside as she locked the door.

Undoing the bundle of clothing I saw that my boxer shorts were missing, obviously taken by Julia as a souvenir.  Slowly putting on my clothes, I expected her to open the trailer door and pull me inside, then lead me down the hallway to the back bedroom where I had earlier gotten the glimpse of a full sized bed.  Sex would probably be on her terms, but at the moment I didn’t care.  Of course that didn’t happen so once I was dressed I got in my car, started the engine, and drove off.

The drive home seemed to go quickly.  It always does when you are familiar with landmarks and don’t have to constantly refer to a map.  My ass still felt warm from being paddled multiple times and I envisioned I would spend the rest of the day either standing up or laying on my side on the couch in front of the TV.

It was probably safe to assume that Julia would call me within a week or two and want to get together, but what would her intentions be?  Her kiss had sent mixed signals compared to all the spankings and perhaps that was intentional.  Bait, as an incentive for me to return, and she had firmly set the hook, ready to reel me in whenever she pleased.  Given Julia’s enthusiasm for spanking me, it was probably safe to assume that no matter what happened the next time we got together, she would find some reason to get out her paddle.

Turning into the parking lot of my apartment complex, I saw my friend Mike out by his pickup truck.  The passenger side door was open and he was pulling out some bags of groceries.  I parked close by.

“Looks like you’ve been out with Miss Julia,” he said as I slowly got out of my car, my aching backside having stiffened up a bit on the ride home.

“What made you guess?” I asked, stretching before walking over to his truck.  “And how do you know she likes to be called Miss Julia?”

Mike explained that she had called him earlier in the week to get my phone number.  He knew she’d be calling me soon and that I’d want to get together with her. 

  “I know she’s hot, but I can tell from the way you got out of your car that she beat your ass today, and it will only get worse if you keep seeing her,” he assured me.  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you once before.”  It was true that he had told me not to pursue her, about a month ago on a camping trip where Julia and I had first met.

“Sounds to me like you know from personal experience,” I said, leading him to elaborate with more detail.  Laden down with grocery bags, Mike pushed the door to his truck closed with his elbow.

“I went out with her a couple times, that was a few years ago,” he said as if confessing to a crime.  “Come over to my place later tonight and we’ll have a couple beers and watch the game.  I’ll tell you a little bit about it my times with her, even though it probably won’t scare you off.”  Then he walked away.

I went to my apartment where I inspected myself in a full length mirror, my buttocks still a faint red and I thought I saw a few bruises starting to form.  It would be interesting to hear Mike’s story later tonight.

A word from the author:  If you enjoyed this story, the next one in this series is titled, Lunch With A Dominatrix.  You will find it here at bdsmlibrary.com.