The Lake

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

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The Lake

(**, M/f, Intense, n/c caning)

A young lady picks an unfortunate time to go skinny dipping and pays the price. (Approximately 1,544 words. Originally published 1994-10.)

She walked along the lake, alone. It was night, though the moon was bright, and the water looked cool and inviting. She paused. The night sounds were quiet and friendly. There was no one but them on the island, and the others were all back at the cabin.

Without another thought she slipped off her shirt and set it on the rock beside her. She was sleek and smooth skinned, though now she was slightly damp with perspiration. She felt the cool breeze against her bare skin and shivered.

She felt awkward, being naked out in the open. But she was alone, and a swim sounded so lovely. She bent over and jerked off her shoes. Still nervous, she took a quick glance around and then pulled down her sweat pants.

Underneath she was all smooth and sleek, skin evenly-tanned from long hours at the salon, svelte. She place her pants on top of her shirt and headed for the water. Her skin gleamed in the moonlight, and her graceful figure was silhouetted against the moon's reflection on the water.

She walked out into the water. It was gorgeous. So smooth and cool and wonderful. She felt natural and clean. There was something naughty about skinny-dipping, even alone, she thought, but it made her feel so alive. She decided she'd do this every night they were here, if she could. This was heaven.

Finally, she could tell it was getting late, so she headed back for shore. As she came up out of the water, suddenly cold and dripping, and conscious of her nakedness, she realized she had come up on the wrong beach. Her clothes were not on the rock were she had left them.

But wait, there was the crooked tree, and she could see the boathouse from here. This had to be the beach. The island wasn't that big, and she couldn't have drifted far.

She headed up the beach a bit, and found the rock. Her shoes were there, but no clothes. A chill went down her back and she shivered. She was not alone.

Shit! It had to be one of the guys from camp! He had followed her, and probably watched her undress. In fact, he could be watching her this minute.

She turned about suddenly, covering herself the best she could with her hands and arms, crouching. From the woods she heard a low laugh. "Nice ass, Catherine. You should bare it more often."

Eric! She recognized that voice! "Shit, Eric, this isn't funny. Give me back my clothes. I'm freezing." She hoped that if she didn't seem bothered by her nudity he would be more inclined to return her clothes.

"Oh yeah? For what?"

"What do you mean for what? They're my clothes!" She had oriented on his voice now, and was trying to see him in the darkness.

"I've got to get something for these clothes. I won't give them up for free."

Great! Eric was going to be difficult. She knew he had a mild crush on her. Perhaps it wasn't so mild. At any rate, he wasn't going to make this easy.

"What do you want, Eric?"

"I want to see you naked."

"I am naked!"

"Exactly!" He laughed as though he was hilarious. Catherine didn't think he was the least bit funny. She really was getting cold, and rather irritated.

"Put your hands behind your head and step into the clearing where I can see you," Eric said, calming down.

Catherine hesitated. She could try to rush him, but her eyes weren't used to the darkness of the woods. She'd never catch him. Even if she did, what then? She'd be better off just heading back for the cabin and hoping everyone was asleep.

"It's not worth it," she said, heading for the cabin. Eric watched her pretty ass rotate as she walked.

"They just started a game of monopoly when I left. I doubt it'll be over for a few hours."

Damn him! Catherine stopped. He was right; she had heard Susan asking people to play as she was leaving. "All right, you win."

Catherine turned and headed for the clearing near the top of the beach. She stood in the moonlight, her hands behind her head, her naked body shinning.

"Now turn around, slowly."

Catherine did as he asked, and he watched, his eyes sucking in every detail of her perfect figure, her full breasts, round ass, curved hips, and smooth skin. I can't believe I'm doing this, Catherine thought. This is stupid.

"You are incredible, Catherine. Do you realize how beautiful you are?" Eric stepped out into her frame of vision. Her clothes were nowhere to be seen.

"Where are my clothes?"

"In good time, in good time. I think you still have some bills to pay." Eric came closer, ogling her body. "Even though it is night, I think you need some suntan lotion on you, don't you? I'll be a gentleman and apply it on you, of course."

The next thing she knew Catherine found herself lying face down on the sandy beach, Eric's palms perusing her body. His fingers caressed her bottom, patting the roundness of it. His hands slid down her hips, and over her thighs. She had to hold her breath to keep from gasping with what he did next. But she refused to say a word and give him satisfaction.

"What the hell is going on here?" The deep voice boomed out over the water.

Eric was up in an instant. "Mr. Sharer! Uh, I, uh, we, uh..."

Catherine stood to her feet, her face bright. She was saved! "Mr. Sharer! Thank God you're here. Could you get him to give me my clothes back?" Catherine was really upset now; she didn't care if Eric fried for this; he deserved it.

"So, Catherine and Eric. I hadn't figured you two, but this is not the place for this sort of behavior. I think a little frontier justice is in order." Mr. Sharer held up the wooden rod he was carrying. "Who will be first?"

Catherine stared at him in amazement. He couldn't think! But he did think! But how--? It was then she realized that Eric DeBrama was as naked as she was. Her story wouldn't wash. She had absolutely no proof.

"But Mr. Sharer," she began, desperately.

"Catherine be quiet or I'll have to add to your punishment."

"Mr. Sharer, please. Eric stole my clothes. I was just taking a little swim..."

"Catherine! Be an adult. Just for that outburst, you may go first. Besides, skinny-dipping is forbidden, anyway."

Oops. Catherine had forgotten that. She was busted either way. Now she desperately wished Mr. Sharer hadn't discovered them.

"Come, on, step up. and bend over." Catherine hesitated. "Alright, that's one extra. Now hurry up."

Catherine stepped forward and bent over. "Keep those legs straight, dear. And count for me."

The first blow cut right across the center of her butt, and Catherine felt as though the wind was knocked out of her. "One," she breathed. The second landed just below the first. "Two." The third was a bit off and was so low it almost struck across her thighs. The pain was excruciating. It was all she could do to mutter "Three" through clenched teeth.

The fourth blow made her want to dance. Her ass was on fire and stinging like crazy, and she wanted to shake it. The fifth blow stifled that urge, but instead made her want to grab her ass with her hands. "Five," she whispered.

"Stand straight," ordered Mr. Sharer.

Catherine complied, and almost jumped when the sixth blow caught her by surprise. "Six," she hissed. How many were there to be? She was to get one extra, was that it?

Her answer was a seventh blow, high across her buttocks, a fresh wound. "Seven." Her voice was higher pitched than usual. When eight hit she could barely stand in place, but what seemed to bother her more was the fact that she was sweating profusely. Nine struck her mostly on the right cheek, right near the bottom, and she could feel the skin trembling after the blow. She was now standing with most of her weight on her right leg, her left leg trembling involuntarily.

"Stand still or the next one won't count."

Somehow Catherine froze. The fear that a blow wouldn't count was incentive indeed. The tenth blow landed fully across both cheeks, and she knew her rump was on fire. She pressed the palms of her hands against the sides of her butt in an effort to dull the pain without actually reaching back to touch her bottom. "Ten," she breathed, praying it was the last.

"All right, now lie down on the sand, face down." Catherine almost collapsed. "You get one, extra, remember?"

The last blow came down from high as though it was on its way to China, but was stopped by the presence of Catherine's ass. A shriek escaped Catherine's clenched lips, and she turned into a small shout: "Eleven!"

And it was over. Catherine watched with delight as an extremely reluctant Eric DeBrama stood up to take his medicine. This, at least, would be enjoyable.

The End