Chapter 7
Chris
I had plenty of time to think during our drive upstate. I felt like I needed it.
The car was quiet except for the hum of tires on asphalt and the occasional whoosh of passing vehicles.
Valerie sat beside me in the passenger seat, her hands folded primly in her lap, her eyes fixed on the scenery rolling past her window.
She looked small and fragile, her blonde hair catching the morning sunlight, her delicate profile tense with anxiety.
I didn’t want to push her too hard. Last night had felt…
intense. More intense than I’d planned, honestly.
Mrs. Chen, one of the New Modesty Authority counselors, had warned me that Valerie would need a firm hand, that her biometric readings showed she was highly submissive but also prone to resistance born of shame and fear.
They’d told me to be patient but unyielding.
To discipline her consistently but not cruelly.
Still, seeing her touch herself when I’d walked into her room yesterday—catching her with her hand down her panties, her face flushed with obvious arousal and even-more-obvious embarrassment at what she was doing—had stirred something primal in me.
And then feeling how wet she got when I spanked her, when I touched her pussy and made her come over my knee… God, it had felt like almost too much.
I shifted in my seat, feeling my cock starting to swell at the memory. Tonight I would fuck her. Actually fuck her. Push my cock inside that tight little virgin pussy and make her mine completely. The thought made me even harder, my jeans growing uncomfortably tight.
I adjusted myself discreetly, trying to focus on the road. I needed to think about how to approach tonight. How to teach her about her duties in a way that would help her accept them rather than just terrify her.
Mrs. Chen had been clear: be very firm with her. Discipline her as often as necessary to ensure obedience. Don’t let her resistance or tears deter you from what needs to be done. Her body knows what it needs even if her mind resists.
I thought about my conversation with Mark last week, when I’d gone to his house for advice. Mark had been married to Valerie’s friend Megan for two years now, and he’d offered to share some wisdom about handling a New Modesty bride.
“You’re going to need to buy a paddle,” he’d told me over beers in his garage. “Trust me on this. Your hand works fine for the first few months, but eventually you’ll want something with more authority. Something she can see hanging on the wall and know what it means.”
He’d shown me the one he used on Megan—a solid wooden paddle with holes drilled through it to reduce air resistance. “Makes a hell of an impression,” he’d said with a grin. “Megan straightens right up when I take this off the hook.”
I’d nodded, filing the information away.
I’d probably need to get one myself. Valerie was already proving to be willful despite her submissive nature.
The bedroom stuff, with the lingerie—like putting on those little-girl panties with her sexy nightgown—that was one thing.
Lying to me, though: that was another. I could see a paddle being necessary sooner rather than later.
I glanced over at Valerie again. She had started to worry her lower lip between her teeth, her hands clenched tighter in her lap now. The anxiety radiated off her in waves.
“Have you been to the mountains before?” I asked, keeping my voice gentle.
She startled slightly, as if she’d been deep in her own thoughts. “What? Oh. No. No, I haven’t.”
“My family used to come up to this area camping when I was a kid,” I said, steering us onto the exit that would take us into the foothills. “My dad loved it up here. We’d spend whole weekends hiking and fishing.”
“That sounds nice,” Valerie said softly, though her voice was still tight with tension.
“There’s a spring near the resort,” I continued, watching the road begin to climb. “It’s supposed to have healing properties. The local tribes considered it sacred.”
“Really?” She turned to look at me for the first time since we’d left the hotel, a flicker of genuine interest in her blue eyes.
“Yeah. There’s this legend about it.” I smiled, remembering my dad telling me the story around the campfire. “A Cree woman was captured by another tribe—enemies of her people.”
Valerie was listening closely, her posture softening slightly. I kept going.
“She prayed to the spirits of the spring for help. And according to the legend, they answered her. When her captors caught up to her at the water’s edge, she began to transform.
Her arms became wings, her body became covered in feathers.
Right before their eyes, she turned into a bird and flew away, back to her own people. ”
I saw Valerie’s throat work as she swallowed. “She escaped,” she whispered.
The word hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. I felt my jaw tighten.
Was that how she saw herself? Trapped? Captured?
My hands tightened on the steering wheel. She was my wife. We’d stood before God and our families and made vows. She’d agreed to this. She’d said yes when I proposed, yes when her father asked if she accepted me as her suitor, yes at the altar yesterday.
But I remembered the fear in her eyes last night. The way she’d begged me not to fuck her. Please, can we wait? Just a day?
I’d given her that day. But tonight there would be no more delays.
Tonight I would take what was mine.
* * *
Valerie
I couldn’t stop thinking about the story Chris had told me in the car.
The woman who transformed into a bird and flew away. Who escaped.
The image wouldn’t leave my mind as we pulled up to the resort—a charming collection of log cabins nestled among towering pines, with the mountains rising majestically behind them.
Chris handled the check-in while I stood in the rustic lobby, my eyes drawn to the large windows that framed the wilderness beyond.
Somewhere out there was the sacred spring. The place where the woman had found freedom from men who must have wanted to use her body.
“All set,” Chris said, returning with a key. “Our cabin’s just down this path.”
I followed him outside, my heart beginning to race with an idea I didn’t fully understand yet. The cabin was beautiful—all warm wood and soft lighting, with a stone fireplace and a large bed covered in a thick quilt. But I barely noticed any of it.
“Chris?” I heard myself say, my voice sounding oddly bright. “Do you want to go on a hike? Maybe there’s a trail to that spring you mentioned?”
He turned to look at me, and I saw hope bloom across his face. Beautiful, trusting hope that made my stomach twist with guilt even as something darker stirred inside me.
“Really?” he asked. “You want to go hiking?”
“Yes,” I said, forcing a smile. “I think the fresh air would be nice. And I’d like to see the sacred spring.”
The lie felt strange on my tongue—exciting and terrible at the same time. Because I did want to see the spring, but not for the reasons he thought. Not to enjoy nature with my husband.
I wanted to see the place where someone had escaped. Maybe I could escape too. On some level, I understood that the idea forming in my mind made no sense at all. I didn’t have any use for rationality at that point, though: all I could think about was getting away, somehow.
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart.” Chris’s whole face had softened. He thought I was trying. Thought I’d overcome my anxiety about tonight. “Let me just change into hiking boots.”
As he rummaged through his bag, I felt a rush of something I couldn’t quite name. It was troubling and intensely exciting all at once—this feeling of deceiving him. Of having a secret plan.
Do I even have a plan? I asked myself.
I knew I didn’t—or part of me knew that, anyway. I definitely didn’t think I would change into a bird and fly away.
Somehow, though, this felt like a way to avoid what was coming. To delay the inevitable. To postpone the moment when Chris would push his cock inside my body and… and…
Fuck me.
Maybe I really am a naughty girl. The thought made my face heat and my pussy clench. Maybe I’d always been naughty, underneath all my attempts to be good.
Part of me knew I was being foolish. Acting without thinking. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
“Ready?” Chris asked, lacing up his boots.
“Ready,” I lied.
The trail began just beyond the resort grounds, winding up through dense forest. Chris walked ahead of me, pointing out different trees and birds, clearly pleased that I’d suggested this. His happiness made the guilt worse, but it also made that dark excitement grow stronger.
We’d been walking for maybe twenty minutes when I saw the trail fork ahead. There was a sign pointing right that said, Cree Woman Trail. The main path continued straight.
“Chris?” I called out. “I need to pee.”
He stopped and turned around. “Oh. Okay. There’s probably some bushes—”
“Could you turn around?” I asked quickly. “And maybe I can walk ahead a bit? I’m embarrassed.”
His expression softened with understanding. “Of course, sweetheart. Take your time.”
He turned his back and I continued up the main trail, pretending to want privacy.
My heart hammered as I looked over my shoulder to make sure he couldn’t see. Then, without letting myself think about it too much, I darted down the right-hand path as silently as I could.
I moved quickly, almost running, following the narrow trail as it wound deeper into the forest. Behind me, after a minute or so, I could hear Chris calling out.
“Valerie? You okay up there?”
I pressed my lips together, not answering. My pulse raced. The trail began to descend, and I could hear water ahead—the sound of a stream or spring.
“Valerie?” His voice was louder now, tinged with concern. “Answer me, sweetheart.”
I kept going, ducking behind a large boulder near where the trail opened onto a small clearing. And there it was—the sacred spring. A pool of crystalline water surrounded by smooth stones, fed by a small waterfall cascading down the rocks above.
It was beautiful. Magical, even.
“Valerie!” Chris’s voice had changed now. He sounded worried. Frustrated. “This isn’t funny. Where are you?”
I peeked around the boulder and saw him emerge onto the clearing, his head swiveling as he searched for me. His jaw was tight, his hands clenched at his sides.
“Valerie, answer me right now!”
He loved me. I could see it in every line of his body, in the genuine fear in his eyes. He wasn’t angry yet—he was scared something had happened to me.
The realization made my chest ache.
He turned in a circle, calling my name again. Then his whole body went rigid and he turned back the way he’d come, breaking into an almost-run.
He was going to get help. Going to start a search.
Oh, God, what had I done?
“Chris!” I called out, stepping from behind the boulder. “I’m here!”
He spun around, and the look on his face made my blood turn to ice.
The fear was gone. So was the love, at least from the surface. What remained was something cold and hard and absolutely terrifying.
He walked toward me slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I thought…” I stammered, my heart pounding so hard I could barely breathe. “I thought we were playing a game?”
The lie was so transparent, so obviously false, that I couldn’t believe I’d even said it.
Chris stopped a few feet away from me. I watched him close his eyes and take a deep breath. Then another. His hands flexed at his sides as he visibly worked to control himself.
Part of me wanted him to lose that control. Wanted him to grab me right here, to punish me immediately for what I’d done. To my horror, the thought made my pussy clench with shameful need.
But he didn’t. He kept breathing, kept working to calm himself down.
I felt a wash of disappointment that I didn’t understand.
Finally, his eyes opened. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and measured.
“Valerie, I think I need to make it completely clear just how unacceptable lying is in my house. I’m going to punish you right here.”