The following short erotic fiction sees a British woman celebrating her first American Thanksgiving by giving thanks to her Dominant boyfriend for a good spanking. Read on…
The idea of Thanksgiving had always sat a little uncomfortably with Alice, as a British woman from a Catholic family living in America. She was embarrassed by it all somehow, as though she was somehow personally responsible. But nothing made her feel worse than spending Thanksgiving with a new boyfriend’s family – the first time she had ever met them.
Her boyfriend, John, was a good person. Good Christian morals, a decent upbringing, respectful, considerate, understanding… but in many ways distant, unemotional, unknowable. So it came as a surprise to Alice that he had invited her to Thanksgiving in his parent’s lodge in the mountains after being together for only a few months. Perhaps, she thought, he sympathized with her being alone at such an important cultural event.
Alice had been nervous on the long drive out of the warmth of the city, John at the wheel, chewing her hair and staring at the landscape blend from concrete grey to Fall brown, and eventually into the white of the snowy hills.
The car finally crunched over the fresh snow on the driveway to the lodge, black-grey smoke chugging peacefully from the chimney. It was exactly how Alice had imagined it: all wood and glass, enclosed in trees, chopped logs in a pile round the side, but bigger than she imagined. Before she had stepped out of the car, the front room of the lodge swung open and John’ appeared, waving emphatically and cheerfully.
Alice took a moment to brace herself and control her nerves, and then followed John meekly into the house.
John was very obviously his father’s son. His father was straight-backed, measured, stern and deliberate. His mother was warmer, but quieter, a little bashful and overwhelmed by the relative size of her husband. To Alice, it was like looking at a reflection of her and John in the future. She was surprisingly happy with it.
Inside, the smell of good food hung in the air, and a log fire crackled in the living room. Members of John’ family mingled and greeted and laughed and drank, and Alice’s nerves slowly fell away. It was warm, restrained and grown up.
“So how long have you been in the US?” asked John’ sister, June.
“Three years now”, said Alice.
“Ah, still fresh off the boat, huh? So is this your first proper Thanksgiving?”
“Yes,” Alice replied. “As a Brit, I’m never quite sure whether I’m welcome. It seems like you guys have the monopoly on being grateful.”
John eyed her suspiciously.
“Yeah, well the English don’t have much reason to be grateful. They take without asking, so there’s no reason to be gracious. We’re just a more thankful country than you”, said June, smiling a teasing smile.
“You should be thankful. We did give you a country, after all”, joked Alice.
“Well, hopefully you’ll find something to be thankful for this weekend,” said June, looking playfully between Alice and John.
“We need more logs for the fire,” a voice from the kitchen interrupted.
“We’ll go”, called John in response.
He stood and grasped Alice’s hand, pulled her to her feet and led her out of the room. When they were out of earshot, he stopped and leaned closer to her.
“I’ll give you something to be fucking thankful for”, he breathed, and reached between her legs.
Alice jolted at the welcome attention.
“But it’s not this”, John hissed again.
John led her firmly by the wrist out the front door and round the side of the building, the thick snow crunching beneath their feet. Alice had become small, her shoulders shrunken and her head bowed, her cheeks warmed by a confounding mix of shame and excitement.
He had never spoken to her like that before. He had never asserted himself like this. He led her silently to the pile of logs piled horizontally at the side of the lodge and demanded she lay over the peak of the pile.
“Say ‘thank you’ every time you’re spanked. Do you understand me?”
Alice opened her mouth to respond but no sound emerged. She was stunned, thrilled, paralyzed with desire.
“Do. You. Understand?” repeated John, more sternly.
She nodded and he lifted her skirt, rolling it up over her back. Without hesitation and almost in the same movement he pulled her panties down and left them halfway down her thighs. He raised his hand to shoulder-height and brought it down in a swift swing.
The smack of his palm thudded against her cold ass, causing her to draw in the freezing air with a sharp gasp, the warmth of the impact numbing her to the frost and snow beneath her knees and between her fingers on the logpile.
“Th-thank you”, she said through gritted teeth.
Has hand swung back again, and then forwards and landed with a smack hard enough to send electricity through her whole body. Another gasp fought its way out as she threw her head back.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment.
John wrapped a handful of her hair around his fist and spanked her again with his other hand, this time eliciting a wince and a yelp.
“Thank you.”
She was oblivious to the cold now, the snowflakes quickly melting on her reddening cheeks. She heard him open his zipper and moan as he removed himself from his pants. He was enjoying it so much that he had become the most aroused he’d ever been with her. This was his relief. Spanking Alice was his exorcism.
He continued spanking her, she obediently thanked him. Slowly. Deliberately. With measured power he alternated between thudding smacks and self-pleasure, his moans accelerating and intensifying parallel to her yelps and thanks.
Eventually she heard the crunch of snow under his shoes as he shuffled around behind her, still bent over the snowy logs. He widened his stance and positioned himself securely, and then pushed inside her with ease. She hadn’t noticed how wet she had become and her body accepted him without hesitation. He fucked her as he spanked her, roughly, powerfully, growling obscenities at the back of her head, language she had never heard from him before, building and building in ferocity.
Everything was becoming a blur for Alice, a heady mix of sensations: hot, cold, pain, pleasure. She was overwhelmed, overstimulated and entirely lost, all inhibition gone, unaware that she was now saying ‘fuck me’ over and over again instead of ‘thank you’.
John felt the first waves of orgasm grip him and his pace suddenly increased, no longer able to stop what was about to happen. As the first and second waves crashed over him, his entire body beginning to clench, he ripped himself out of her and pointed his cock down between her thighs, coating her innocent white panties with streams of cum, filling them with his mess.
After a moment his orgasm subsided, and he regained his composure, his breath hanging in the winter air. He reached down and slid her now profaned panties up and she enjoyed the warm wetness against her skin.