A short story for you

Make a cuppa and settle in for this short, steamy read

December is the start of summer, here in New Zealand. And summer means beaches! Being an island nation, we’re never far from the beach. I was lucky enough to grow up on a little peninsula, surrounded by beaches in every direction, and the beach is what I miss most, now I’m inland, in Southland. I have to drive for an hour to get to a beach now, rather than 10 minutes :(

This is a steamy short story set on the beach that I spent a lot of time at when I was young. The sand is black (another thing about living in Southland that I miss - beaches have white sand down here) and the waves are big - coming off the wild Tasman Sea. Piha is probably one of the most famous beaches in NZ, maybe because of iconic lion rock. Can you see it? I haven’t been there in 25+ years…. but one day I’ll get back there again!

Photo by Bill Fairs on Unsplash

This short story spent the first seven years of its life in an anthology by Black Velvet Seductions called “First Submission”. I’ve now got the rights back and am sharing it with you all! Because we all need to take time out to read and relax in this busy time of year, right? Pull up a chair, grab a cuppa, and enjoy :)

Subdued by the Lifeguard by Kelly Dawson

Lisa fanned herself with her book, to cool down the heat in her face. Was it hot? Or was the flush in her cheeks brought on from watching Zane in action? He was sexy, no doubt about it. She’d been watching him all summer; paddling out through the surf to catch the waves, his skill impressive as he rode them back into shore, his body bent low, arms outstretched as he balanced on his board, riding the crest of the wave.

She watched him now as he rode the swell the whole way into the beach, jumping off his board lightly to land in the white foam splashing onto the black sand. He emerged from the water, pulling the wetsuit off his upper body as he did so. She licked her lips hungrily at the sight of the tanned, muscular body; water droplets glistening in the morning sun on the tanned, ripped torso. He shook his head, his long, shaggy blonde hair flying wildly; spraying water in a wide arc. What a divine specimen of a man! She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

He turned his head in her direction and, seeing her perving, winked rakishly at her. She felt her face colour in embarrassment, but she smiled back at him.

He walked up the beach, the muscles in his back rippling as he tucked his board under his arm. She followed his footprints along the damp black sand, having to take two strides for every one of his; his legs were so long.

Spreading out her towel, she pretended to read, but from behind her romance novel, she was watching him. He dried himself roughly, pulling the red and yellow surf lifeguard t-shirt over his head, the fabric stretched taut across his broad shoulders. Hiding under the towel he wrapped around his waist, he stripped his wetsuit from his body, replacing it with the red shorts that completed his lifeguard uniform. The uniform wasn’t sexy, but the man inside it surely was.

She’d spent the whole summer watching him monitor the beach, directing swimmers to move back between the flags, rescuing those who got into difficulty out in the surf, flirting with pretty girls in bikinis, chatting and laughing at the lifeguard station with his fellow beach heroes. Often he came and sat beside her, and they conversed easily, like old friends, laughing at each other’s jokes. He knew her name, she knew his. They talked a lot. They smiled and flirted. This was the whole reason she came to the beach – she came for him. To watch him, to lust after him; he was the stuff fantasies were made of, and she had plenty of fantasies, every single one of them featuring him.

Over the weeks they learned a lot about each other, forming a bond that seemed to get deeper every day, although they never saw each other away from the beach. They’d walk together along the sand to the dairy to buy double-scoop chocolate-dipped ice cream in a waffle cone. A tingle shot up her arm every time their fingers touched over their shared portion of hot chips slathered in tomato sauce. He would laugh at her bad jokes; he would keep her entertained telling her funny surfing stories. But always, he was watching the beach, doing his duty.

There was an assertiveness to him when he was dealing with people, a sternness; he was unmistakably a dominant man, and the submissive in her felt faint at the knees, watching him.

She never heard him raise his voice, but he could command obedience out of everyone he instructed. He could be stern when he needed to be; when someone didn’t listen the first time, and she felt a tightening in her breasts as he watched him scold the disobedient beachgoers for ignoring the flags and putting their lives in danger. A dull ache settled between her legs – he was so sexy when he was stern.

She could imagine him directing her back between the flags, scolding her when she didn’t comply, and she felt a dampness growing between her thighs. More than anything, she wanted to get into trouble with him and have him deal with her like she was nothing more than an errant child. She lay back on her towel as he issued a stern lecture to a group of reckless teenagers, a half smile on her face as his deep voice rumbled through her. It was so easy to imagine that she was the one getting in trouble, that she was the one getting scolded. Would he take the consequences further than a scolding? He certainly seemed dominant enough – maybe it was time to find out.

Are you crazy? Her inner voice screamed at her. What kind of idiot intentionally risks drowning simply to get the attention of a man? She had to admit, her sub-conscious had a point. There was a very real possibility she could drown out there; she was a hopeless swimmer after all, but she didn’t know what else to do. She’d been talking to Zane all summer, flirting with him, building a friendship with him … and nothing had happened. She had to take it to the next level. Her instincts told her he was a dominant, that he would punish her if the circumstances were right. And she desperately wanted him to spank her. She’d wanted it since she first set eyes on him. It had been her fantasy all summer to resist his authority, to cross that unwritten line and face his wrath … to submit to his punishment, to submit to him.

She forced her rational mind aside. The summer was nearly over; she had to do this.

Her mind made up, she waited until the end of the day when the beach was all but deserted and the other lifeguards had all gone home. He’d caught her watching him several times that day and flashed her a rakish grin. They hadn’t had a chance to talk much, but she knew he was aware of her; his smile had told her that he knew she was there.

The flags were still out, marking the safe area on the beach to swim. She knew there were dangerous rips out there; the current was fierce in places, making the water treacherous, but she knew she’d be safe enough edging out into deeper, dangerous waters with Zane patrolling the beach.

There were only two other people in the water with her, and a surfer way out in the depths, but she was the only one who ignored the safety of the flags, swimming off to the side, heading for the point. She watched him get up from the sand, his eyes on her, and walk down to the water.

He waved his arm, signalling for her to move back between the flags, back to safety. Eyeballing him, she shook her head. No. A silent refusal.

It was a reckless, stupid move. She wasn’t a good swimmer, and she would have no chance of saving herself if she did get dragged out by the current, but she knew he would save her. He was watching.

He walked right to the water’s edge, ankle-deep in the foam, waves splashing his shins. He frowned at her, a hard ‘you need to obey me now’ frown, and pointed to the flags. His message was unmistakable, but she shook her head again, half smiling as she did so. She felt so deliciously naughty! It had been a while since she had listened to her inner rebel, and doing so now gave her such a thrill. She threw her head back and her arms out, laughing in delight. It felt so good to be naughty!

He yelled something, but she couldn’t hear it over the noise of the breakers crashing on the beach, but when a wave hit her from behind and knocked her off her feet, she figured he must have been shouting a warning. She struggled to right herself, but she was thrown upside-down and sideways, tumbling over and over, her lungs burning as she fought to surface in the wild water. She saw daylight momentarily and gasped for breath seconds before another huge wave crashed down on her, nearly drowning her again. She felt herself being dragged along with the current, but whether she was heading for the beach or back out to sea she had no idea. She swallowed a mouthful of the filthy, salty water and started to panic. This wasn’t quite going as she’d hoped it would.

Her feet scrabbled against the sand, trying to get enough purchase to propel her upright when another wave knocked her flying again, and she disappeared under the water once more. She came up momentarily, coughing and spluttering, then she was knocked violently down again, pulled under, and dragged with the current, heading out to sea.

“Help!” she screamed, fighting to keep her head above the salty, churning water. Her lungs were burning from the sea water she had inhaled and her legs were turning to jelly, struggling to keep her afloat in the deep water that had her ensnared, ripping her away from the beach. This is not good, she moaned, desperation and panic threatening to overwhelm her. It was all she could do to keep her head above the water; she certainly didn’t have the strength or the ability to fight against the current that was dragging her swiftly away.

“Help!” she screamed again, but a wave in her face muffled her cry, filling her mouth with the ocean water, threatening to drown her. I’m going to die, she thought, strangely calm, waiting for her life to flash in front of her very eyes, just as it did in the movies. But, instead, strong hands gripped her arms and lifted her, hauling her free of the water. Zane! He’d come! She clung to his shirt frantically, scared of going under again, terrified the angry water would cause him to let her go.

“Are you all right?” his deep baritone voice rumbled through her, the expression on his face a mixture of concern and fury.

“I am now.” She tried to smile, but coughed up a lungful of water, spitting sea water all over him as she gagged and retched pathetically.

He slapped her back enthusiastically; a bit too enthusiastically, she thought, but it helped.

“Just relax,” he instructed. “If you can float it will make it easier for me to get us back to the beach. And then, my girl, you’re going to get it.”

A tingle went through her at those words, heat gathered in her loins, and although she assumed his words had meant to be a threat, she hoped they were a promise.

His powerful arms and legs cut through the water effortlessly as he swam sideways, clutching her to him, dragging her along too. The current stood no chance against his strength. What a man! Another wave washed over them both, ducking her under again, drenching them, but he held her tight and carried on swimming while she snorted another lungful of the foul-tasting sea water.

Finally, they reached the beach. He sat down beside her on the sand, just out of reach of the rushing tide, and she coughed and retched again, expelling the water she’d swallowed, while he slapped her firmly on the back.

“You all right now?” he asked her, worry marring his handsome features.

She nodded. “I am now, yes.”

“Good.”

There wasn’t a trace of ire on his face as he stood up and extended a hand to help her, and she felt a tiny sliver of disappointment; was he not even going to scold her? What about his words – ‘you’re going to get it’? How had she managed to misread him so badly?

“Wait here,” he ordered her. “My shift has finished. I’m going to take in the flags and close the beach. Try and obey orders this time, huh?”

He winked, and was gone.

She sat back down again, stretching out in the sand, his words ticking over in her mind. She was confused. Was he a Dominant, or wasn’t he?

Her gut instinct told her he was, and what she’d read on the internet backed up her suspicions. He was assertive and commanding without being domineering and bossy; confident without being arrogant, and stern without coming across as a total jerk. Most men instantly took advantage of her submissive nature, using her willingness to please for their own ends. And although she’d only known him for the summer, she knew in her heart that Zane wasn’t like that. He was different.

The first thing she noticed about him when he reappeared was how he was dressed. He’d shed his wet lifeguard clothes and was clad in a pair of black cargo pants that hung sexily off his hips and a black t-shirt that hugged his broad, muscular frame. He didn’t say a word to her, but the stern look in his eyes spoke volumes as he reached out his hand to help her up.

“Thank you,” she told him gratefully as he pulled her up. “I would have drowned if it wasn’t for you. I’m not a good swimmer.”

“So I noticed,” he said wryly. “If you were mine I’d turn you over my knee right now and spank you until you couldn’t sit down.”

Heat shot through her loins at that statement; a tingle starting in her breasts, tightening them, swelling them, and travelling down her body, igniting an aching need deep in her pussy. Her buttocks clenched involuntarily as relief flowed through her. She’d read him right.

“Would you?” she asked him, smiling; her green eyes sparkling.

He nodded. “I would.” He looked stern, but underneath that stern façade, he, too, was smiling.

“Go on then,” she dared him, winking, a twinkle in her eye.

Smack! His large hand smacked against her bikini-clad bottom, hard enough to impart a slight sting, especially on her wet skin, but still light enough to be playful. A thrill went through her.

At her shocked gasp, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You are a very naughty girl!” he scolded. “You need to obey the lifeguards and swim between the flags.”

“Yes Sir,” she whispered, naturally submissive, her eyes downcast. Her heartbeat raced, her breathing was ragged.

“Would you like me to show you what happens to naughty girls who disobey lifeguards?” he whispered seductively, his eyes flashing with desire.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He led her, his hand resting gently, possessively, in the small of her back, to the empty clubhouse. He locked the door. “You sure you want to do this?” he questioned, as he pulled a chair off the stack at the side and positioned it near the centre of the room.

She nodded. “I’m ready for whatever you can dish out,” she challenged him.

He smiled at her challenge, then his face turned stern as he crooked his finger at her, beckoning her. “Come, then.”

As soon as she was close enough to grab, he pulled her to him and guided her gently over his lap, positioning her bottom high over his left thigh, his right leg trapping both of hers under it. He held her in place with one hand on the back of her neck.

“I’m going to spank you,” he told her softly. “If at any stage it gets too much for you and you want me to slow down, you say ‘yellow’. Got that? And if you want to stop, you say ‘red’. Don’t be afraid to use those safe words if you need to; they will stop proceedings immediately. Understand?”

She nodded.

“I need to hear you say it,” he said. “Your consent is paramount. I need to know that you understand, and are comfortable with this.”

“I understand,” she whispered. “I submit myself fully to you. But I will use my safe words if I need to.” She was breathless, she hardly dared to believe it was true – she’d been beginning to wonder if men like this actually existed or if they were only in books; erotic words written purely to provide entertainment, to fulfil fantasies. And yet here she was, over the knee of quite possibly the sexiest man ever created, about to get her bottom spanked.

“Good,” he murmured, giving her bottom a gentle rub. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him raise his hand to shoulder height. “This is what happens to naughty girls who don’t follow instructions,” he scolded.

She smiled, wiggling her backside provocatively, until his hand connected with her bottom in an almighty wallop that made her shriek in both pain and shock. How had that one smack hurt so much? The smack on the beach had been a love pat by comparison.

“Ow!” she yelled. “That hurt!”

“It’s a spanking,” he told her drily. “It’s supposed to hurt. It won’t do much good if it doesn’t, will it?” He smacked her again, every bit as hard as before, across the fullest part of her buttocks, making her whole body shudder with the blow.

She clenched her teeth, determined not to cry out again, but, by the time he’d spanked her four more times, she was yelping. She was cold, she was wet, and he was strong. Every time he flattened his hand and brought it down hard across her backside he was igniting a fire on her skin that was burning hotter and hotter.

“Ow! Stop!” she demanded, attempting to kick her legs wildly but finding them very much hindered by his heavy leg that restrained them.

“Let me go!”

“Not so much fun disobeying orders now, is it naughty girl?” he mocked her, spanking her again, a bit lower this time, right on the crease where her bottom met her thighs, down below where her bikini bottoms would protect.

She hissed in pain when he spanked her again, then she sucked in a breath as his finger traced a line up the gusset of her drenched bikini. Could he tell that it wasn’t just sea water causing that moisture? His hand lingered on her pussy, his fingers pressing lightly against her swollen nub. Her breath caught in her throat; she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t speak. She squirmed against him as he rubbed circles over the fabric covering her pussy. The sensation was exquisite! She moaned. If he kept that up …. Oh! She was right on the brink … His fingers slapped against her bikini-covered pussy sharply that made her gasp in pain.

“You may not cum,” he informed her gruffly, his voice throaty with desire. “Naughty girls aren’t allowed to cum. Naughty girls are punished.”

He spanked her bottom hard again, first on one cheek, then the other, maintaining a slow, even rhythm. He squeezed her warm globes gently between spanks, digging his fingers into her tender skin.

She groaned. She was right on the precipice between pleasure and pain; right at that point where the most intense sensations were invading her body, ripping through her core.

“Have you had enough yet, or do you need some more?” His voice was husky with arousal, even deeper and sexier than usual.

“More,” she gasped.

She squirmed as his fingers reached into the waist band of her bikini bottoms, sliding them gently down over her hips, down her thighs, pushing them past her knees, leaving them gathered messily at her ankles, effectively hobbling her kicks.

She gasped as his fingertips traced down her spine, down in between the cleft of her buttocks, the pads of one finger pressing against her tight virgin rosebud, before continuing down on their journey, down to the very core of her. He played with her pussy lips gently, flicking his finger against her clit, his whole hand rubbing over her pussy. Erotic shivers went through her as her breasts puckered in her bikini top, feeling achy and hot, and her pussy pulsed with need. He inserted one finger inside her very gently, dipping it in her juices, spreading her sticky wetness all over her pussy.

“You are very wet, little girl,” he breathed.

Raising his hand, he spanked her bottom again, spanking hard and fast on alternate cheeks, a dozen whacks that made her cry out.

“Little girls who disobey orders get punished,” he scolded her in a voice that was barely more than a whisper, punctuating his words with another harsh slap.

“Yes Sir,” she whimpered.

“Little girls who are reckless and endanger their lives, requiring rescue, get their bare bottoms spanked.” He smacked her bottom again.

“Ow! Yes Sir!” she yelped.

He trailed his fingers over her pussy again, rubbing her clit in slow, gentle circles that nearly sent her wild with desire. Her breathing was ragged, short and sharp; the desperate need in between her legs was building to a deep ache. She moaned. He slapped her pussy with his fingers, just hard enough to impart a slight sting. She was nearing the edge again. Zane seemed to sense this, and pulled his hand away. She groaned at the removal of his gentle touch and ground her hips against him, showing him her need.

“You are a very naughty girl,” he scolded in that dreamy, husky voice of his. “And these next ten whacks are to show you what happens to naughty girls. They will be hard. You will count them. And you will thank me for each one.”

Smack! His large hand caught her at the fullest part of her bottom, landing with enough force to impart a fierce sting.

“One, thank you Sir.”

Smack! Even harder, this time, and landing slightly lower.

“Two, thank you Sir.”

Smack! This time Zane’s hand connected hard with her sit spot, that juncture where her bottom met her thighs.

“Ow!” Lisa wailed. “Three thank you Sir!”

Smack! Right cheek.

“Four! Thank you Sir!”

Smack! Left cheek.

“Five! Thank you Sir!” she yelled, starting to struggle to remain in control now. Zane was spanking her hard, and it hurt. The fire in her backside was over-riding the pleasure. His authority, his firm hand, and the erection she could feel pressing into her hip all combined to make her submission complete; she lay limp over his lap, giving herself over to him fully.

“Your submission is beautiful,” he murmured. “Good girl, you’re doing well.” He rubbed her bottom gently for a moment, his light touch easing the burning slightly. With the heel of his hand still cupping her heated globes, his fingers snaked down to brush over her pussy again; the very tips of his fingers just reaching inside her; delving in ever so slightly, sending shivers of erotic pleasure coursing through her body.

A whimper escaped her lips. He continued to rub, the same hand that could impart such a sting, not soothing her. Then he stopped rubbing and squeezed.

“Are you ready for the rest of your punishment?”

“Yes Sir,” she whispered, barely able to breathe.

Smack! This one fell right in the middle of her bottom, directly over her bottom hole.

“Six, thank you Sir,” she gasped out.

Smack! Another one in exactly the same place, his outstretched fingers darkening the handprint he’d left there previously.

“Seven, thank you Sir.”

Smack! This time his hand caught her low again on the underside of her buttocks; his hand hard scorching her tender flesh.

She gasped. “Eight! Thank you Sir.”

Smack! He spanked her left cheek this time, smacking already spanked skin.

“Ow!” she yelled, wriggling in a futile attempt at escape. “Nine, thank you Sir.”

Smack! The final smack fell on the other side, making her bottom uniformly red.

“Ten. Thank you Sir.” Her knuckles were white from gripping his pants leg so tightly; she released the fabric and clenched and unclenched her fists a couple of times, relaxing her hands. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was over, she had survived. And submitting to Zane so completely felt so good.

Zane rested his hand on her bottom, squeezing her warm globes gently. “Have you learned your lesson?”

She was breathless with desire as she lay there, delighting in his expert ministrations, enjoying the sensation of his strong, warm hands caressing her.

“Yes, Sir, I definitely have,” she murmured. The fire in her bottom had built to a fierce crescendo, but her breasts were tight and achy, and her pussy was throbbing with need. Would Zane give her release, or was orgasm denial a part of her punishment? She’d read online about orgasm denial being used as a punishment in BDSM relationships, but she’d never submitted to a man in this way before, and it was all new to her. New and scary, but also so exciting! The connection she felt with Zane was intense.

He helped her to her feet, and took her chin in his hand, holding her face still, forcing her to look at him. His breathing was ragged and his eyes were sparkling with arousal. His thumb brushed gently over her cheek, the roughness of his skin in stark contrast with the softness of hers. She thought he was going to say something, to continue his lecture maybe, but he didn’t, he just looked at her, gazing into her eyes, the touch of his hand soft but commanding against her skin. She couldn’t look away, she was mesmerized.

Subconsciously, her hands went to her bottom to try to rub out the sting, but he pulled them away.

“No rubbing.” Bringing her hands to his lips he kissed her knuckles gently, blowing across them, sending an erotic tingle coursing through her.

She pouted, and he chuckled.

“Your submission is a beautiful gift to me,” he murmured, his eyes still on hers.

She lowered her eyes demurely, but she couldn’t hide her smile. Being praised by him, complimented by him … it felt so right. Right now, there was nowhere else she’d rather be than right there in the surf lifesaving clubhouse, in Zane’s arms.

She tried to bend down to pull up her bikini bottoms, to cover herself her, but he stopped her.

“Now that you know what kind of man I am, are you up for more?”

His husky voice had a slightly nervous edge to it; he was clearly worried about something. She wondered what he was afraid of. Did he think she would turn him down? Think him a creep?

“I always knew what kind of man you are,” she informed him. “Why do you think I went out there in the water, beyond the safety of the flags? It was intentional.” She blushed furiously; it seemed so wrong, admitting that to him. It was such a stupid thing to do, and now that she’d actually admitted her reckless actions out loud, she was embarrassed.

“I know.” He slapped her bare bottom again, little more than playfully, and winked at her. “That’s why you got spanked. I could tell you were a submissive, desperate for discipline, right from the start.” He smiled at her.

“How?”

“The way your lips parted when I gave an instruction, the way you watched me, the way you hold yourself … it’s in your whole demeanour. You’re a naturally submissive woman, and that’s beautiful to me.” He held her face in both hands, looking directly into her eyes. “It’s very beautiful.”

“Oh.” She didn’t quite know what to say; she’d had no idea her desire had been so obvious. She’d been a closet submissive all her life, fantasizing about sexy men scolding her and spanking her … but that’s all they’d ever been: fantasies. She blushed. In real life, it was far more exciting than her fantasies had been. Actually lying over Zane’s lap while he spanked her had been incredible. Of course it had hurt, but it had been so erotic, and had felt so naughty … a shiver ran through her.

Zane’s hand trailed gently down her back, down the cleft of her hot bottom, and his fingers gently rubbed her drenched pussy.

“Bend back over my lap and we’ll finish your spanking.” His order was abrupt, and his tone was stern.

“But …” she protested. “I thought my spanking was finished?”

“The naughty girl part of your spanking is finished, yes,” he reassured her. “But you’re so aroused; your juices are all over my finger! We need to do something about that.”

She smiled, but blushed at the same time, embarrassed. “I thought orgasm denial was part of BDSM?” she asked.

He nodded. “It can be, yes. But your submission is so hot, I want to reward you.”

She nearly groaned as she imagined those lips on hers, trailing hot kisses down her body, his mouth caressing her all the way to the juncture between her thighs, to the core of her where she was yearning for him.

Stepping out of her bikini bottoms that had puddled on the floor at her feet, she lay back across Zane’s lap, breathless with excitement.

His hand slapped against her bottom, lightly this time, before his hand moved down between her thighs and his thumb rubbed her swollen, protruding clit. Her pussy was pulsing as he eased his fingers in and out of her, his thumb stimulating her clit, his index finger reaching deep inside of her to find that special spot.

She parted her legs to give him better access and he leaned down and blew across her pussy gently, the hot air from his mouth contrasting with her wetness, teasing her, torturing her, making her gasp.

His fingers continued to stimulate her, bringing her right to the very edge, and just before she let go, he removed his fingers and slapped her pussy lightly, over and over. The soft splatting sound of his fingers hitting her juices was her undoing and she arched her back and screamed a primal scream as the earth-shattering orgasm engulfed her. Waves of pleasure wracked her body for several long seconds, and when it was over she lay there, spent, completely sated; shuddering.

“Wow.” Her quiet exclamation said it all. “That was amazing.”

“You’ve never done this before, have you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“So, this was your first submission? What a privilege. Thank you.”

He helped her up, and ecstasy rocked through her again as he kissed her passionately, long and hard.

“Yes,” she confirmed when they broke away from each other. “My first submission.”

The End.

Did you notice the hero in Her Fake Fiance shares the same name? I only just noticed now. Oops! I try not to use the same name for my characters, but I’m running out of names! If there’s a name you like, and you’d like to suggest it for a character in a book, please reply to this email or comment below.

Thanks for reading! I’m grateful for each and every one of you with me here on my writing journey.