A Girls’ Holiday – BDSM

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All characters are 18+

Ellie Wakefield and I had been friends for as long as I could remember. We’d met at college, age 4, and now it was twenty years later and we were living together in a little terraced London flat with the world at our fingertips — or so we hoped. Really, adult life was a drudge — I was temping in some office and she was managing a failing bar. It wasn’t what we imagined when we graduated together. When we were 4, I’d wondered of her as the prettier of us and I still felt that way — I was curvier, my hair mousy brown and my face just a little too chubby, while she was slimmer, more athletic, with long auburn hair and pale skin that shone like starlight. In the old days, at college, I’d been riddled with acne while she stayed perfect — and she also stayed my best friend. She’d dump people from her life if they looked at me the wrong way. I’d never met anyone like her. Maybe there wasn’t anyone else.

Throughout our many, many years together, Ellie and I had been through just about every emotional up and down that two decades can throw at you. Included in that was a strange, indefinable attraction which went past friendship. Neither of us, so far as we knew, were particularly interested in women — yet there’d been moments a little beyond our explanation for pretty much our entire friendship. We’d touched each other, more out of curiosity than attraction, at sleepovers, or kissed in nightclubs and even gone skinny dipping together in Greece. But there was nothing more to it. Then came our trip to Scotland.

When you’ve been stuck in a tiny London terrace for as long as we felt like we had, renting a cabin in the Highlands can feel like stepping into paradise. We took Ellie’s little hatchback on the nearly ten hour journey to Inverness, chattering about whatever the whole way with me too excited even to nap, and found our snug little wooden cabin on the edge of a forest just as the sun was dipping beneath the distant mountains. Our one week stay was planned to be uneventful — which was exactly what we needed amid life in London — and so we watched films, went for walks in the cold misty air, played board games, and just revelled in our splendid isolation. Sharing a bed each night was unremarkable — it was like being kids again — and, as we lay next to each other one night, we got to talking about our sex lives. Ellie had recently broken up with her fiance, James, whom I’d at all times hated for his condescension, and I hadn’t been with anyone for over a year.

“I just need someone who’ll spank me,” I muttered, half-seriously.

“What?” Ellie laughed. “Is that your new fetish?”

“I dunno,” I said, truthfully. “Just been thinking about it. Sounds fun. I’ve been way too vanilla all my life — need to get a bit kinky from time to time.”

“Interesting.”

Come the cold morning, we woke to discover the landscape transformed — snow had fallen overnight to repaint the Highlands into a vision of white. Excitement overcame us — we ran outside, like children, not at all dressed for the setting. We quickly realised this and returned inside to put additional layers over our pyjamas. Then, as a herd of shivering sheep watched from a nearby field, the snowballs started to fly.

Rose-faced and sweating, yet giggling and scampering about nonetheless as we dodged each other’s shots, it was a moment to feel like children again. Eventually, we went back in — Ellie microwaved us chicken soup and we sat by the window, watching the snow begin falling again.

“So,” said Ellie, eventually, “feeling like going back outside?”

“Sure,” I replied. “But I don’t know if I can keep running around. Had no idea you could get so sweaty so fast.”

“Well, you’re unfit.”

“That could be the case,” I laughed.

So we went outside and, instead, returned to our well-trekked walk between the fields and past a nearby loch. The cattle looked very cold and ice was forming on the shallowest edges of the lake. As Ellie stood at its edge, prodding the ice with her foot to test its strength, I was seized by sudden inspiration/stupidity. I ran up behind her, having gathered a fistful of snow in my gloves hands, and dumped it down the back of her coat.

“Grace!” Ellie shrieked. “You prick!”

She span round with a furious look — I met it with a smile. Her eyes narrowed.

“You’ll never catch me,” I teased.

“Wanna bet?” Was she smiling? “You’re in big trouble — you bad little girl.”

“Huh?” I hesitated, surprised at her words, and that was my downfall. Ellie leaped at me and, as I turned to run, was already on me — she dragged me to the ground, stronger than she looked, and pinned me to the hard, frost-covered ground. I struggled as she sat on my back, keeping me where I was, facing towards my kicking feet.

“Gotcha,” Ellie sniggered.

“Okay, okay!” I hissed, finding her too heavy to lift. “Sorry! Get off!”

“Nah,” she said. Suddenly, I felt her cold fingers under the hem of my coat, then under my jumper, and then eagerly creeping under the waistband of my grey thermal trousers.

“Ellie!” I yelled. “The fuck are you-“

“You be quiet, young lady,” she growled. In an instant, our conversation from last night materialised in my head and I realised what was happening. It said a lot about me, I wondered, that I obeyed. “You want the whole village to know?”

Immobilised and obediently silent, I squirmed as Ellie pushed my bottoms down, leaving my panties the only thing protecting my rear from her gaze and the chill January sky. As the cold hit me, again, I tried to protest.

“Ellie, come on, it’s freezing.”

“Don’t worry, bad girl.” I could hear her smile through every word. “I’ll warm you right up.”

Her hand striking my bottom cracked in the cold air, passing over the lake, the sharp pain shooting over me. I became certain people would hear us from miles away — all I could do was hope they mistook the sound for a farmer shooting at crows. Biting my lip, trying not to try out, I still struggled, but Ellie had me at her mercy. My face burned with embarrassment — we’d seen each other naked a thousand times but never had I been restrained like this. And not by her. By the fifth or sixth strike, I began yelping, even wailing, on the very edge of sobs.

“You’re a bad girl, Grace,” whispered Ellie. “And you know it.”

“Ow…” I whimpered at the next hit, my rear already burning, my boots thumping into the hard frosty ground. “Ellie, come on, please…”

“I’m not stopping ’til I know you’re sorry,” she said. “You deserve to be punished, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I whispered, ashamed but, despite it all, hoping she wouldn’t stop too quickly. Her hands on me, her weight on my body, felt too good to lose.

Without warning, Ellie grabbed my panties and pushed them down below my buttocks, leaving them at the top of my thighs. I gasped at the cold, not just the air on my bare butt, but the snow against my groin. I felt myself tighten, tingling bursting up into my tummy, and my legs pressed together as if trying to hold the feeling inside me. The humiliation of being pinned and exposed, of course, also squeezed me — but I was finding myself enjoying it.

Ellie didn’t let up. She spanked my bare bum with no hint of slowing or stopping. Each smack sent a loud clapping sound, letting me know just how soft my rear was, and I tried to tense to protect myself but it did nothing. My butt was on fire. My girlhood freezing. I squirmed and cried and struggled, still, to get away — but only because I knew I couldn’t. Each time, Ellie adjusted on my back, and kept spanking my bottom scarlet.

Suddenly, the weight lifted as Ellie stood up. Taking my chance, I scrambled to my feet, trying to yank up my underwear as I did — before I could finish, my girlhood covered but my butt still exposed, Ellie pinched me by the ear.

“Ow, ow, ow,” I whimpered, holding up both hands in surrender, as she led me back down the path.

“Come with me,” she said, quietly.

“Ellie, please, someone’s gonna see!”

“So move it.” We returned the few paces back to the cabin, my trousers having fallen to my knees, and Ellie hauled me inside. The cabin was, aside from the bathroom, one small room — she pushed me into a corner where I stood with my nose against the wall, my face burning from embarrassment and my groin throbbing with excitement. She swatted my still-bared rear, hard, and I jumped, grunting in about as embarrassing a way as feasible.

“I’m all wet because of you, you bad little girl.”

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered.

“I think it’s a bit late for that.”

Behind me, I could hear her opening drawers, could hear the rustle of fabric as she changed. My stomach was in knots with the anxiety of waiting and was still desperately cold, almost hopping from foot to foot to try and warm up. I knew doing so would only earn me further punishment but, still, glanced over my shoulder to look. Ellie had her back to me, naked from the waist up, her torso pale and gorgeous as she pulled on another jumper, turquoise with a hood. She rarely wore bras as it was and, being as isolated as we were, hadn’t even brought any on the trip. I quickly turned back to the corner before she caught me peeking.

“There, that’s better.”

I felt her presence behind me — I tensed up.

“I’m gonna spank you, Grace,” she whispered, her lips a few inches from my ear. I shivered. “Do you wanna tell me why?”

“Because…” I sniffed, rubbing my sore bottom. “Because I dumped snow on you. But you already spanked me.”

“I know. And I’m gonna do it again.”

“But why?” I whimpered. I felt her tongue against my ear and, suddenly, my groin burst into a million different colours. This was new.

“Cause it’s fun. Now, come here.” She took my ear again and, despite my squeak of protest, led me towards the bed. I hoped, desperately, that Ellie wouldn’t notice was wet I was. She let go of my ear, which kept stinging long after she released it, and sat on the bed to face me. I realised she expected me to go over her lap and, again, a wave of hot embarrassment crashed over me — but it wasn’t enough for me to call it quits. I knew I could. I knew that, really, this was all a game which we were both in on. But that didn’t change its effect on me. The tingling refused to stop. I thought if she felt it, too.

Before I had a chance to bend over Ellie’s lap, her hands came to either side of my underwear — before I could object, she peeled them down my thighs and, with my trousers, took them down to my ankles. I’d been naked in front of her before, many times, but never like this. Context changed everything. It almost felt like the first time all over again.

She noticed, surely, what sort of state I was in — as I crossed my thighs to try and cover myself she just smiled and, looking up, said, “now, bend over my lap, little girl.”

I did as I was told, balancing on her thighs and squirming with embarrassment that she must have seen my wetness, but feeling a strange comfort at Ellie’s warm hand on my cold bottom. Then, it left, and I tensed. My teeth clenched. Then came my punishment. Ellie spanked me quickly, rhythmically, each hit producing another loud SMACK. My whines picked up and, as the burning grew, they turned to howls and cries. Tears burst from my eyes.

“I’m sorry!” I wailed. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Ellie growled, her hand coming down again on my butt. I put my hands over it, trying to cover myself and trying to relieve the pain, only for Ellie to restrain them behind my back. “This is what happens to bad girls.”

It didn’t take long for me to be overcome by sobbing. Ellie stopped soon after, her warm hand rubbing my bottom and going up my shirt to rub my bare back, and I soon calmed down enough that it faded to still-embarrassing sniffles. With a hand on my shoulder, Ellie guided me back to my feet — with my trousers and underwear at my ankles, I hobbled to the bathroom, Ellie’s hand now between my shoulders to lead me. She took me into the bathroom where, still sniffing, she knelt down to pull my boots and socks off, before pulling off my trousers and black panties. Being undressed like this was new and somewhere close to humiliating — I’d helped a very drunken Ellie out of her clothes more than once but never been on the receiving end, and certainly not while being made to feel like a child.

“I can do it myself,” I mumbled. Ellie raised herself back to my level, her hazel eyes close to mine. I could almost see my reflection in them.

“I think you need a bit of help. Lift your arms up.” I obeyed, feeling the hot blush on my cheeks, and she pulled off my jumper and shirt in one go, then put her hands behind me to unclip my bra. Everything fell into a heap on the floor and, while I stood there naked and trying to cover myself, Ellie, almost seeming disinterested in my body, turned to switch on the shower before leaving.

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” I mumbled.

“Okay. Oh, before I forget.” Ellie turned back to me and, before I could even think of a reaction, her lips were on mine. I kissed back eagerly, desperately, our tongues playing with each other, her hands gripping my hips to pull me against her until we could have melded into one. All the while, the room slowly filled with a mist of steam. I wanted more, so much more, I wanted my best friend to join me in the shower and I wanted her to fuck my brains out right there and then. But, instead, she pulled away, smiled, and turned to leave. The door closed and I stared at it.

Stepping into the shower was like being reborn. The cold was banished but, the whole time, that wasn’t the relief I was thinking of — it was the relief of Ellie touching me, I mean really touching me, in a way I’d at all times wanted her to but never realised I did. Stood in the shower, leaning against the cold tiles, my rear still burning, my hands ended up between my legs seemingly all on their own, and it barely took a few moments to rocket myself to a first shuddering orgasm.

When I was finished, hoping the length of the shower didn’t betray anything about what I was up to, I emerged wrapped in a fluffy white towel. Ellie was stood at the kitchen counter, pouring us both glasses of white wine. She offered one to me.

“It’s eleven in the morning,” I mumbled.

“We’re on holiday.” I just smiled as I accepted the glass.

“So…” Ellie said. “Have fun?”

“I think you could tell.” She just smirked, and glanced out of the window. “Now I just need to find an excuse to punish you.”

“I’m sure I’ll find you one.”

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