“Well, you were taking too long… heeyyy!”
Another volley of hard thrusts is my reward for that flippant remark, followed up by several hard smacks.
“I am going to paddle your ass for this,” he says affectionately, kissing my cheek as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me all the way down, going back to fucking me more slowly. “I am going to make you cry for me.”
“Nuh-uh,” I say, even as my pussy clenches, and a fresh flood of arousal engulfs his cock.
“Yes, I am. And you’re going to love it. I can feel your body reacting to me, Lydia. I know how you like to be treated.”
He pulls out of me and stands me up, leading me over to a blue plastic barrel that once contained god knows what. He bends me forward over it, and starts spanking my ass with his hand.
“Such. A. Naughty. Girl,” he lectures, emphasizing each one of those words with another hard slap to my ass.
The spanking goes on until I am kicking my feet and leaning on the barrel in an attempt to escape, but he keeps me there and keeps spanking me until he gets what he wants from me. Tears start leaking down my face, a natural response to being harshly disciplined by the tall, handsome lover of mine who is actually somewhat pissed at me for getting involved.
“You were not supposed to take the formula. Anything could have happened to you. And a mouse? Lydia! A mouse is one of the most vulnerable creatures on the planet, and you voluntarily chose to make that the creature your DNA aligned with?”
Another stern barrage falls on my hot bottom. I kick and squeal because those are the impulses that come first when my bodyis flooded with sensation that it cannot escape. I am so fucking sore, and so fucking wet. He stopped fucking me just to do this and it isn’t fair because it is making me need his cock so bad…
“Sorry!” I gasp. “Please…”
“Please what?” He grips my head and pulls me closer to his mouth. “What do you want?”
“Fuck me?”
“You don’t deserve a fucking, naughty girl,” he says, spanking the back of my thigh. “You were disobedient.”
I don’t think he is really angry at me. I think he’s afraid that I could have gotten hurt and he wants to teach me not to do it again, but I’d do it a thousand fucking times and nothing he does to me now can change that.
“Please?” I whimper again.
“I spoil you,” he says, nudging my legs apart so he can thrust back inside me again, this time fucking me over the barrel until my entire body is shaking with orgasm and his cock is knotting inside me, and I am taking another dose of his potent seed inside me.
Simon keeps hold of me when we are done, and it is good that he does because I feel slightly faint, and very, very hungry. Coming down off such an intense series of experiences is taking everything out of me.
“We need food. And clothes,” he says, kissing the back of my neck as we recover. “Fortunately, I have both here.”
“This is your place?”
“I started to realize I was going to need somewhere to hide once Veronica started getting too intense about things, and once the formula’s effects became less predictable,” he says.
Breakfast is what a growing wolf needs, dried meats and plain water. Not exactly delicious, but clearly not planned for me. He does have clothes for me though, a pink jumpsuit and matching pink and white sneakers, as well as some underwear.
“Are we supposed to go undercover as a couple of jazzercise dancers in the 90s?” I tease him a little. Really, I’m just glad to have something in my stomach and something on my back.
“We are going to go now,” he says. “I’ve booked a private charter to the end of the world. We’re going somewhere nobody will notice or care if we turn into animals occasionally.”
I clap my hands over my mouth. “Are you serious? Are we going to…”
“Yes,” he says. “We’re going to New Zealand.”
“People don’t care if you turn into a wolf there?”
“Not unless you start chasing sheep. It’s a very live and let live society. I’ve bought an old power plant in the very deep south.”
“Sounds amazing.”
“Mhmm,” he says, reaching for me. “And you know what else?”