5. Milo
Milo
We walk side by side along the narrow trail that leads back toward the perimeter of Connor’s land.
Connor’s long strides are easy, but he keeps them shortened so I can keep up.
And for once, he’s actually talking: not grunting one-word answers, but real sentences. He asks about my coffee-bike plans, about how I got into baking, even makes a dry comment about how my cupcakes are dangerous weapons.
I kind of like this version of him.
And I can’t help the giddy little smile that keeps tugging at my lips.
“It must be the sugar from the cake,” I tease, glancing up at him. “Combined with the caffeine in that coffee I made. I bet you’re not usually this chatty, Mr. Grumpy Mountain Man. Well you certainly weren’t with me, that’s for sure.”
Connor lets out a short, surprised chuckle, the sound low and rough, like gravel under boots.
It vibrates through me and settles somewhere warm and low in my belly.
For the first time since I met him, I feel like I’m seeing the real Connor King.
Not the scary legend the town whispers about, but a man who can laugh, even if it’s rare.
A man who ate my cupcakes and let me sit on his deck.
A man whose presence makes my skin tingle and my briefs feel way too tight.
I’m still floating on that warm feeling when I open my stupid mouth again.
“We’re getting close to the lake now, right?” I blabber, immediately regretting it.
But the words are out before I can stop them.
Oh crap.
Crap crap crap.
Please don’t pick up on that…
But with barely a moment passed, Connor stops walking. The forest around us goes suddenly quiet. He turns slowly, towering over me, those dark eyes narrowing.
“How do you know about the lake?” Connor asks, his almost cheery tone now nowhere to be seen.
My heart slams against my ribs. Heat floods my cheeks. I try to play it cool, but my voice comes out high and squeaky. “Just… a guess? I mean, there are lakes everywhere in Hardrock Park, right ?”
Connor doesn’t buy it for a second. One thick eyebrow lifts. “Try again, little boy.”
The way he says “little boy” does dangerous things to me. My thighs press together and I feel my special place harden just a touch. I look down at my sneakers, twisting the strap of my backpack.
There’s no way out of this. Not with him staring at me like he can see straight through me.
“I… I got a little lost on the way to your cabin,” I confess, voice barely above a whisper. “I took a wrong turn and ended up at this beautiful hidden lake. And then I saw…”
My face burns hotter.
The memory slams into me: Connor rising out of the water completely naked, water streaming down his powerful body, every muscle carved like stone.
His broad chest, ridged abs, thick thighs…
and that big, heavy Daddy dick hanging between his legs, thick even when soft, swinging as he charged out of the lake calling for his dogs.
I squeeze my thighs tighter, but it doesn’t help the sudden hardness between my legs as I blush and attempt to splutter something to cover my tracks.
“I didn’t see anything big,” I say, dizzy with nerves. “I mean it was big. I mean I didn’t see anything .”
Connor steps closer.
“You saw me,” Connor growls. “You were where you shouldn’t have been. Again. And you’re still attempting to pull the wool over my eyes.”
I nod, too embarrassed to speak.
His hand lands heavy on my shoulder. It’s so large it nearly covers the whole thing, and the weight of it glues me to the spot. Heat radiates from his palm straight through my whole body. My breath catches.
“Were you spying on me, Milo?”
“No!” I shake my head frantically. “I swear I wasn’t! I was lost, and then you were just… there. I didn’t mean to look, but I couldn’t exactly look away either.” My voice drops to a mortified whisper. “You’re… really huge. I just couldn’t turn away.”
A dangerous silence stretches between us. Then Connor’s grip tightens.
“You’ve got one hell of a habit of ending up where you shouldn’t be,” he growls. “I warned you more than once. Clearly that wasn’t enough.”
Before I can protest, he marches me off the trail toward a freshly cut tree trunk lying on its side at the edge of a small clearing. My heart is racing so fast I feel dizzy. Part of me is terrified. The bigger part—the needy, secret Little part—is throbbing with dark excitement.
“Connor! Wait!” I plead.
But it’s no good. Not now. It’s way too late for me to try and talk my way out of this.
He sits on the wide trunk and yanks me forward, bending me over his thick thighs in one smooth motion. Cool air kisses my bare legs as Connor hooks his fingers into the waistband of my jeans, unbuttons them, and yanks them down to my knees in one firm tug along with my skimpy baby-blue briefs too.
“Oh my God!” I gasp.
“Safeword,” Connor barks.
“ Balloon ,” I reply, my heart thumping and every inch of my body turbo-charged with adrenaline.
Connor’s huge palm smooths over my bare ass, almost gentle for a second. Then he cracks it down hard and sharp.
“ Owwwww !” I holler, kicking my legs involuntarily.
Connor doesn’t hold back. Each heavy swat makes my ass jiggle and burns hotter than the last. I squirm over his lap, but his free arm locks across my lower back, holding me exactly where he wants me.
My hard cock presses down on Connor’s strong legs but right now all I can think about is the increasing heat I’m feeling on my ass.
“ Owweeeee ! Connor, please!” I yelp, but my voice cracks with something that sounds way too much like a moan. “ Ow-ow-ow-oweeee!”
But as painful as the spanking is, my cock is now rock-hard. I can feel my erection throbbing in uncontrolled joy and the ache is almost unbearable. Without thinking, I slide one hand underneath myself, desperate to squeeze my shaft, to pull on it, to work it hard and fast.
Connor’s hand freezes mid-swat.
He catches my wrist and pins it against my lower back.
“None of that ,” Connor growls. “You take your spanking like a good boy. No touching that needy little cock until I say so.”
The words hit me like another spank. A helpless whimper escapes me. I go limp over his lap, submitting completely.
“Good boy,” Connor rumbles, almost approving.
Then he really lets me have it.
A fast, merciless flurry of hard spanks rains down on my bare, burning ass: left cheek, right cheek, right in the middle where it stings the most. I cry out with every loud crack, tears pricking my eyes even as my dick pulses and my balls ache for some attention.
The pain and the heat and the overwhelming arousal mix together until I can barely tell which is which. By the time he stops, my ass feels like it’s on fire. I’m panting, whimpering, completely limp over his strong thighs.
Connor’s big hand rubs slow circles over my punished cheeks, soothing the burn just enough to make me moan again. Then he gently pulls my briefs back up, covering my glowing red bottom and my now semi-hard cock. He pulls my jeans up too and helps me stand on shaky legs.
I can barely look at him. I feel humiliated, aroused, disciplined, but altogether super-stimulated in a way that feels close to being overwhelming.
“You must never, ever return to my property again,” Connor says, voice rough and serious. “I hope you’ve truly learned your lesson this time, little boy.”
My mind is spinning—still super-embarrassed, sore, ridiculously turned on, and something deeper that feels dangerously close to attachment. Before I can stop myself, the words tumble out soft and breathy.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Connor’s eyes flash with raw heat. For a split second I see something wild and possessive cross his face.
Then I turn and run.
I don’t look back. My freshly spanked ass stings with every step, my flimsy briefs rubbing against my over-stimulated cock as I sprint down the path toward the public trail that will take me back to town. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.
Yes, Daddy.
I just called the most dangerous, gruff, secretly wonderful man in Hardrock Park Daddy .
And the worst part?
I meant it.
I want more.
Even as my burning bottom protests with every hurried step, even as I know I should be terrified… all I can think about is the next time I see Connor King.
Because something tells me this isn’t over.
Not even close.
* * *
I don’t stop running until I reach the edge of town, cheeks burning almost as hot as my poor bottom. Every step makes my denim shorts chafe against my tender, freshly spanked skin, sending little sparks of heat and humiliation straight to my manhood.
By the time I climb the stairs to my apartment above the laundromat, I’m a mess—flustered, aching, and so turned on I can barely think straight.
I lock the door behind me, drop my backpack, and head straight for the bathroom.
The light is soft and warm as I flip it on. Without hesitation, I peel off my jeans and briefs, leaving them in a puddle on the tiled floor. I whip t-shirt off too. Completely naked, I turn sideways in front of the full-length mirror and look over my shoulder.
“Oh… wow ,” I whisper.
My ass is still bright red. Two perfect handprints stand out clearly on each cheek—Connor’s huge palms branded right into my skin.
The color is vivid, almost glowing, with a few darker spots where his fingers landed hardest. I reach back and gently touch the heated flesh. It’s warm. Tender . A sharp little sting flares when I squeeze, and I let out a shaky moan.
The memory crashes over me again: bent over his thick thighs, jeans down, briefs around my knees, completely exposed while he spanked me like a naughty brat.
The loud cracks of his hand.
The way I cried out.
The way I tried to touch myself and how he immediately pinned my wrist and told me to take it like a good boy.
My cock hardens and lengthens at the thought. Before I know it, I’m throbbing all over again.
I shift my weight from foot to foot, watching in the mirror as my red bottom jiggles slightly. A fresh wave of embarrassment floods my cheeks. I can’t believe I let him do that.
And most of all… I can’t believe how much I loved it.
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, I spread my legs a little and grip my dick in one hand and hold my balls in the other. The sting in my ass mixes perfectly with the pleasure building as I begin to work my shaft, slowly at first but then quicker.
On the bathroom shelf, Flappie, my fluffy brown owl stuffie who I’ve had in my life pretty much since Day1, sits watching with his big, unblinking eyes and slightly crooked beak.
I giggle breathlessly, still stroking myself. “Don’t look at me like that, Flappie. I know . I’ve really got myself in a fix this time, huh?”
I glance back at my glowing red bottom in the mirror and bite my lip.
“Connor King just put me over his knee and spanked me bare. Like a proper naughty Little. And I called him Daddy before I ran away.” I let out a nervous, excited laugh. “What am I even doing?”
Flappie just stares, as judgmental as a stuffed owl can look.
I lean closer to the mirror, admiring the handprints again. “Do you think I’ll dare cross him again?”
The answer comes instantly, bright and certain in my chest.
I already know it.
Deep down, I knew it the second I baked those cupcakes and decided to hike up to his cabin.
A mischievous little giggle bubbles out of me. “Yeah… I’m definitely going to cross him again. Probably soon.”
I pull on my balls, imagining Connor’s deep, growly voice telling me I’m a bad boy who needs another spanking. My sore bottom throbs in time with my dick as I work myself faster, my legs hardening as I feel myself getting closer.
“Oh god… Daddy…”
The word slips out again, even though I’m all alone. It feels so right. So dirty and perfect at the same time.
My orgasm hits me hard—sharp, sudden, and overwhelming.
I groan, my knees buckling as waves of pleasure roll through me. All I can see in my mind is Connor’s powerful naked body rising from the lake, that thick Daddy cock swinging between his legs, and the dark, hungry look in his eyes when I called him Daddy.
I slump against the sink, panting, aftershocks still tingling through me as I look down to my stomach and see myself covered in my own thick, ropey seed.
My red bottom glows back at me in the mirror like a naughty badge of honor.
I smile, soft and dazed and already plotting.
Connor thinks he taught me a lesson.
But all he really did was make me want to be his bad little boy even more.
I pick up Flappie and hug him tight to my bare chest.
“Wish me luck, buddy,” I whisper, kissing the top of his fluffy head. “Because I’m definitely going back up that mountain.”
And this time?
I might not run away so fast… no matter how painful my punishment is.