The Scotsman and The Porcelain Fox Pt. 3

[in****]

The Scotsman continued to hold a python-like grip on her wrist, though his warmth remained intact as he invaded her private space as if he owned the place. Within seconds he had entered, closed the door and enclosed them in the apartment alone, all without breaking eye contact once - a gesture that served only to soak The Fox's already drenched thong further. The door was now locked automatically to any other holidaymakers, but housekeeping, or dare she even think it… her husband, could enter at any moment; a madness mixed with *** had taken over however, and those trivial inconveniences were the last thing that caused her any alarm. Her focus was now solely on The Scotsman. He was scanning the room intently with stern eyes. He is looking for something, she thought, as he fixed his stony glare on the doorway to her and her husband's master bedroom. They locked eyes once more, and for the briefest of moments, quicker than the flutter of butterflies' wings, he almost seemed to grin. The Fox inhaled.
Before the basic bodily function of exhaling had even registered, The Fox was being marched across the open plan living area toward the bedroom. She thought for a second of protesting, but she simply could not breathe, let alone speak. She continued to hold her breath as The Scotsman ushered them both into the bedroom. The d***s and sliding doors to the balcony were left wide open and a blaze of sunlight penetrated the gap. The searing intensity made her giddy and finally exhale to gasp for breath. She remembered her hangover from last night's exuberance and thought for a minute that she had now been marched into hell for her sins and she was being led by the devil himself, suddenly manifested in the image of a well-chiselled, stern-faced stranger. Get a grip, she tried to command herself, but in truth she had lost control long ago. Just go with it, whatever he has in store.



As she struggled to regulate her breathing and clear her head, The Scotsman pulled one deft movement that made her gasp and inhale sharply again. He had been holding her left arm with his right hand so far. But with breakneck momentum, he switched to holding her left arm with his own left hand, and the grip felt stronger: more determined and ***ful, like a king snake instead of a python. She felt his right-hand palm now press gently into the small of her back. So soft, yet with the *** of a truck behind it there was no denying that wherever it prompted her to go, she'd do it. His mere touch on her back sent a tingle to her clit sharper than the relentless sun that was ***ing her senses from outside. She felt unsteady again but remained resolute not to show weakness. And so, with his left hand leading her by the wrist and his right hand steering her so confidently from behind, she found herself at the foot of her bed. The very same bed she'd shared with her husband since their stay began. They stopped. The Fox had still not exhaled, as if the fundamental task of breathing had abandoned her, but her mind was on autopilot now. She knew without need of further prompting. She knew exactly what was expected of her next. And she knew she was going to comply.
With only the slightest bit of guidance from the Scotsman, The Fox timidly clambered upon the edge of her bed. She knew that's where this was headed. She knew the instant he began to shepherd her to the room and through the door. With her free right hand, she was able to complete the task without looking too awkward due to the giddiness engulfing her brain and the limp feeling in her body from the insanity of the ordeal. The bed felt soft against her knees. For a moment she yearned to lay down on her tummy and bury her head in the pillows to sleep it off as if it was some sort of hangover-induced fever dream. But there was no chance of that, she knew; this was real, and this was happening and there was no escaping it. Part of her delighted in that, and she decided to embrace this wild ride, despite the growing feeling that she was doing something very wrong. That she was a bad girl.
The Fox began to shimmy up the bed, as she thought that's where sex usually happens, is it not? Up by the pillows, that's where he will want me surely. But The Scotsman's grip tensed, and he let her move no further. He means to take me over the end of the bed, she mused, and the thought comforted her somewhat. At least he won't see my face as I look a state in this heat, The Fox reassured herself. At least it will be different than the times she and her husband had fucked in recent times, which had been traditional missionary and simply a chore of habit more than anything nowadays. So, resigned to her fate, but thoroughly looking forward to hopefully being fucked good and proper for the first time in as long as she could remember, The Fox knelt on the edge of the bed. Her ass was in the air, exposed, with only the thin line of fabric of her white thong the last line of defence between her soaking, pulsating pussy and this stern dark stranger who had come to invade her private space. Her dirty feet soles hung just off the edge of the bed. The soles he had showed so much interest in, The Fox suddenly remembered. Will that entice him further to take me even more urgently? Will he touch them? A foot massage right now would be the best thing in the world. She hoped he'd touch them now. That he'd touch her. She wondered if his cock was raging inside his shorts at the sight of her offered up to him, soles, ass, pussy and all.

It dawned on her that the room was almost deathly silent but for The Scotsman's breathing and the faint sounds of outside. Something had to happen. It felt like an age had passed. Touch me, she silently pleaded. End this turmoil and touch me. Take me. Fuck me. Have me as your own if even for this once. She let the quiet silence of the room wash over her once more and wondered if he was ever going to fuck her and this wasn't just some game of despicable mental *** to punish her for whatever reason he had of his own. But then the silence was shattered. The silence in her head. The peace of the room. The vibe that had encompassed them in their own private bubble. Everything just imploded right then. She had felt a sudden movement from The Scotsman, and it had jolted her so much it frightened her.
The Scotsman had been standing there completely immersed in The Fox's submitted body and energy. He was enchanted by her dedication to her fate as he knew she must be struggling after last night's wine. Such strength in the face of this new adversity was to be admired, and he was quite smitten. The sight of her soles however had sent a rush of *** throughout his body, like lines of electric current coursing through him, and he simply could not control his urges any longer. Although he toyed with the idea of showing her mercy, he was resolute in his determination that this needed resolved, and in proper fashion. Never one to hesitate too long when action was required, The Scotsman cocked back his right arm and let fly with all his might, a thundering impact across The Fox's ass cheeks that turned this into a situation that there truly was no going back from now. Past the point of no return. How The Fox reacted would shape how the next scenes of their life would unfold together. Complete chaos and misunderstanding, or connection and understanding. As these thoughts swirled in his head and his right-hand palm burned as red as The Fox's ass cheek, the slap echoed and reverberated around the room until it finally faded…
The Fox felt numb all over. Paralysed. Her head spun terribly, and she thought for a second that she may vomit and blackout. She knew she'd been struck. The first thought was why? She was certain he desired her and meant to fuck her, but now she wondered if she'd found herself in real danger. The echo of the impact across her ass cheeks had made such a clean, piercing sound that bounced around the room she wasn't even sure if she'd made a sound herself. She must have, because her ass hurt like a bitch, she cursed to herself. Before she could process all this information properly, another savage jolt tore through her senses. And this time she did yelp. Loud and clear. If he means to hurt me, he'll know about it. Staying silent would be a task in any event, she knew. Sure, as night follows day, another lashing from his powerful hand came thick and fast. She let out another yelp. This time The Scotsman tensed his left hand and held her tighter. He doesn't like me screaming, she knew instantly. As shocked as she was at the insanity taking place, what The Scotsman did next surprised her. His next touch was gentle and strangely reassuring. He caressed her left foot sole, then her upper thigh, and ran his warm palm across the curve of her ass cheeks so softly she began to tremble as goosebumps ran riot across her blazing hot flesh. Her heart was beating out her chest like demon's hooves trampling her from inside now. Along with the tender sensation of The Scotsman's strokes, it was all becoming too much to bear.

She dared to look around. The Scotsman's gaze was fixated on his hand travelling across her reddened flesh, but when he saw The Fox look around his eyes met hers. She felt as if her heart had skipped a beat and would possibly stop if this madness continued. She needed something from his eyes. What was the purpose of all this? The answer came quickly. The reassurance from his soft strokes was now confirmed in the depths of his ice blue eyes. He doesn't mean to do me lasting harm she now knew. Without the need for words, as if they were connected in mind and soul, she now felt that no matter where this was headed, she was safe in his energy.
A captive of his of sorts, sure, as she was certainly going nowhere until it was over, but it felt safe at least, although if she ever tried to explain 'why' in the future, she knew it'd be a hopeless exercise. But the feeling was all that mattered now, and she began to understand the reason behind all this as The Scotsman flashed that devilish grin once more as he cocked his muscular tattooed right arm back to send his hand crashing back down across her scorched skin. He is punishing me, she confirmed in her head. This is punishment. All those flirty moments they had shared had been *** for him just as it was for her, she now realised. He is letting his frustrations out, and due to the part she'd played in their dangerous flirtatious dances of the mind and eyes, she decided to give herself to his disciplining with all her heart, mind, body and soul. Resigned to her fate, The Fox took every strike now with newly born resolve. She winced slightly less each time, and the yelps that once bounced around the room now rattled around the inside of her clenched mouth and teeth.
The Scotsman had read the scene perfectly and knew now they were on the same page completely. The connection had been made and now they were both partners in crime on this wild adventure. The way she knew how to follow his wishes without a word spoken endeared her to him so much more, and there was no doubt that his arousal toward his Porcelain Fox would only continue to heighten intensely from here on out. As the *** rushed from every area of his body to his cock, he knew it was time. A few moments passed as the echoes of the last lashing and muffled yelp faded to nothing and the room returned to peace. The Scotsman reached into his pocket and took out his leather pouch. The sight of the bunch of black tie-wraps protruding from the slightly open zipper sent yet more jolts of electric current through his body and mind. The veins in his hands and arms bulged due to the heat outside and the relentless hammering he'd given his fox. He was on fire inside and out. And this was only the beginning…
The Fox dared to look around once more. She knew something else was in store as The Scotsman had stopped her punishment, but what next…? She caught sight of the pouch and marvelled at the undoubtedly expensive leather. He has class, she thought, but it was hardly surprising. The clutch of black tie-wraps sticking out the zipper, however, was a surprise. She pondered what new devilry he had in store for her for a few heartbeats, but it was short lived. There was now an urgency in The Scotsman's movements that showed his mind was set on some new plan of action. Before she could blink, The Fox was removed from the bed. Her legs were weak, and it took all her power to not collapse to the floor in a heap by The Scotsman's knees and hug into him. No, not yet. He's not finished with me yet.
As before, the power behind The Scotsman's guidance at the small of The Fox's back was like a *** of nature, and she knew there was simply no point in fighting against where he wished to lead her. She was in too deep now to ever look back. Ever. But when they began to approach the sliding doors that led to the scorching balcony, a fresh wave of *** hit The Fox like a tidal wave, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead that left her messy hair stuck to her scalp. She knew he was a daring and ***less type just from their interactions so far, but the balcony... what could he possibly want with me on the balcony…? Her ass ached and had handprints emblazoned across them like burning hot brands. Her white thong was nothing more than a drenched piece of skimpy fabric that housed a throbbing, raging, soaked pussy. She was a sweating, heavy-breathing hot mess and couldn’t even fathom her stern stranger finding her attractive now. But… she had come this far and was seeing this the whole way through, no matter what trouble it would get her into or how much of a bedraggled mess she felt like. And so, with a long gulp and inhale of breath, The Fox crossed the threshold into another depth of the blazing hot hell she had found herself feeling strangely at home in. Her last thought was, I really am a bad girl…

[aimee16x2]

I appreciate the tension and build up here, the Fox's understanding and acceptance of her fate but also internal acknowledgement that she is being quite literally manhandled and loves it is really well written. As is the subtle conveyance that despite her confidence in her physical safety, she is definitely being pushed beyond her usual boundaries.

You have a lovely way with words and I'm excited. Also excited for pt 4. See what I did there? 

 

[in****]

  8 minutes ago, aimee16x2 said:

I appreciate the tension and build up here, the Fox's understanding and acceptance of her fate but also internal acknowledgement that she is being quite literally manhandled and loves it is really well written. As is the subtle conveyance that despite her confidence in her physical safety, she is definitely being pushed beyond her usual boundaries.

You have a lovely way with words and I'm excited. Also excited for pt 4. See what I did there? 

 

Expand  

Thank you so much for taking the time to comment. Really appreciate that, and the feedback and compliment. And yes, I see what you did there. I’m glad 😉

[Cr****]

💜💜

[in****]

  8 hours ago, CrazyAF said:

💜💜

Expand  

🙏 Thanks for the comment. Appreciate that.

[Farney]

Ho

[in****]

  12 minutes ago, Farney said:

Ho

Expand  

Thanks for the comment. All feedback welcome. And feel free to elaborate further on the comment if you’d like.

[MsWheel]

Lucky woman! I am enjoying this story and can’t wait to find out what he is going to do next.

[in****]

  2 hours ago, MsWheel said:

Lucky woman! I am enjoying this story and can’t wait to find out what he is going to do next.

Expand  

Thank you so much for commenting, which I’ll take as positive feedback for sure! 😉. Part 4 will wrap things up. But I said that about part 3…

[x-****]

  On 2/5/2025 at 6:35 AM, intellectualruffian said:

The Scotsman continued to hold a python-like grip on her wrist, though his warmth remained intact as he invaded her private space as if he owned the place. Within seconds he had entered, closed the door and enclosed them in the apartment alone, all without breaking eye contact once - a gesture that served only to soak The Fox's already drenched thong further. The door was now locked automatically to any other holidaymakers, but housekeeping, or dare she even think it… her husband, could enter at any moment; a madness mixed with *** had taken over however, and those trivial inconveniences were the last thing that caused her any alarm. Her focus was now solely on The Scotsman. He was scanning the room intently with stern eyes. He is looking for something, she thought, as he fixed his stony glare on the doorway to her and her husband's master bedroom. They locked eyes once more, and for the briefest of moments, quicker than the flutter of butterflies' wings, he almost seemed to grin. The Fox inhaled.
Before the basic bodily function of exhaling had even registered, The Fox was being marched across the open plan living area toward the bedroom. She thought for a second of protesting, but she simply could not breathe, let alone speak. She continued to hold her breath as The Scotsman ushered them both into the bedroom. The d***s and sliding doors to the balcony were left wide open and a blaze of sunlight penetrated the gap. The searing intensity made her giddy and finally exhale to gasp for breath. She remembered her hangover from last night's exuberance and thought for a minute that she had now been marched into hell for her sins and she was being led by the devil himself, suddenly manifested in the image of a well-chiselled, stern-faced stranger. Get a grip, she tried to command herself, but in truth she had lost control long ago. Just go with it, whatever he has in store.



As she struggled to regulate her breathing and clear her head, The Scotsman pulled one deft movement that made her gasp and inhale sharply again. He had been holding her left arm with his right hand so far. But with breakneck momentum, he switched to holding her left arm with his own left hand, and the grip felt stronger: more determined and ***ful, like a king snake instead of a python. She felt his right-hand palm now press gently into the small of her back. So soft, yet with the *** of a truck behind it there was no denying that wherever it prompted her to go, she'd do it. His mere touch on her back sent a tingle to her clit sharper than the relentless sun that was ***ing her senses from outside. She felt unsteady again but remained resolute not to show weakness. And so, with his left hand leading her by the wrist and his right hand steering her so confidently from behind, she found herself at the foot of her bed. The very same bed she'd shared with her husband since their stay began. They stopped. The Fox had still not exhaled, as if the fundamental task of breathing had abandoned her, but her mind was on autopilot now. She knew without need of further prompting. She knew exactly what was expected of her next. And she knew she was going to comply.
With only the slightest bit of guidance from the Scotsman, The Fox timidly clambered upon the edge of her bed. She knew that's where this was headed. She knew the instant he began to shepherd her to the room and through the door. With her free right hand, she was able to complete the task without looking too awkward due to the giddiness engulfing her brain and the limp feeling in her body from the insanity of the ordeal. The bed felt soft against her knees. For a moment she yearned to lay down on her tummy and bury her head in the pillows to sleep it off as if it was some sort of hangover-induced fever dream. But there was no chance of that, she knew; this was real, and this was happening and there was no escaping it. Part of her delighted in that, and she decided to embrace this wild ride, despite the growing feeling that she was doing something very wrong. That she was a bad girl.
The Fox began to shimmy up the bed, as she thought that's where sex usually happens, is it not? Up by the pillows, that's where he will want me surely. But The Scotsman's grip tensed, and he let her move no further. He means to take me over the end of the bed, she mused, and the thought comforted her somewhat. At least he won't see my face as I look a state in this heat, The Fox reassured herself. At least it will be different than the times she and her husband had fucked in recent times, which had been traditional missionary and simply a chore of habit more than anything nowadays. So, resigned to her fate, but thoroughly looking forward to hopefully being fucked good and proper for the first time in as long as she could remember, The Fox knelt on the edge of the bed. Her ass was in the air, exposed, with only the thin line of fabric of her white thong the last line of defence between her soaking, pulsating pussy and this stern dark stranger who had come to invade her private space. Her dirty feet soles hung just off the edge of the bed. The soles he had showed so much interest in, The Fox suddenly remembered. Will that entice him further to take me even more urgently? Will he touch them? A foot massage right now would be the best thing in the world. She hoped he'd touch them now. That he'd touch her. She wondered if his cock was raging inside his shorts at the sight of her offered up to him, soles, ass, pussy and all.

It dawned on her that the room was almost deathly silent but for The Scotsman's breathing and the faint sounds of outside. Something had to happen. It felt like an age had passed. Touch me, she silently pleaded. End this turmoil and touch me. Take me. Fuck me. Have me as your own if even for this once. She let the quiet silence of the room wash over her once more and wondered if he was ever going to fuck her and this wasn't just some game of despicable mental *** to punish her for whatever reason he had of his own. But then the silence was shattered. The silence in her head. The peace of the room. The vibe that had encompassed them in their own private bubble. Everything just imploded right then. She had felt a sudden movement from The Scotsman, and it had jolted her so much it frightened her.
The Scotsman had been standing there completely immersed in The Fox's submitted body and energy. He was enchanted by her dedication to her fate as he knew she must be struggling after last night's wine. Such strength in the face of this new adversity was to be admired, and he was quite smitten. The sight of her soles however had sent a rush of *** throughout his body, like lines of electric current coursing through him, and he simply could not control his urges any longer. Although he toyed with the idea of showing her mercy, he was resolute in his determination that this needed resolved, and in proper fashion. Never one to hesitate too long when action was required, The Scotsman cocked back his right arm and let fly with all his might, a thundering impact across The Fox's ass cheeks that turned this into a situation that there truly was no going back from now. Past the point of no return. How The Fox reacted would shape how the next scenes of their life would unfold together. Complete chaos and misunderstanding, or connection and understanding. As these thoughts swirled in his head and his right-hand palm burned as red as The Fox's ass cheek, the slap echoed and reverberated around the room until it finally faded…
The Fox felt numb all over. Paralysed. Her head spun terribly, and she thought for a second that she may vomit and blackout. She knew she'd been struck. The first thought was why? She was certain he desired her and meant to fuck her, but now she wondered if she'd found herself in real danger. The echo of the impact across her ass cheeks had made such a clean, piercing sound that bounced around the room she wasn't even sure if she'd made a sound herself. She must have, because her ass hurt like a bitch, she cursed to herself. Before she could process all this information properly, another savage jolt tore through her senses. And this time she did yelp. Loud and clear. If he means to hurt me, he'll know about it. Staying silent would be a task in any event, she knew. Sure, as night follows day, another lashing from his powerful hand came thick and fast. She let out another yelp. This time The Scotsman tensed his left hand and held her tighter. He doesn't like me screaming, she knew instantly. As shocked as she was at the insanity taking place, what The Scotsman did next surprised her. His next touch was gentle and strangely reassuring. He caressed her left foot sole, then her upper thigh, and ran his warm palm across the curve of her ass cheeks so softly she began to tremble as goosebumps ran riot across her blazing hot flesh. Her heart was beating out her chest like demon's hooves trampling her from inside now. Along with the tender sensation of The Scotsman's strokes, it was all becoming too much to bear.

She dared to look around. The Scotsman's gaze was fixated on his hand travelling across her reddened flesh, but when he saw The Fox look around his eyes met hers. She felt as if her heart had skipped a beat and would possibly stop if this madness continued. She needed something from his eyes. What was the purpose of all this? The answer came quickly. The reassurance from his soft strokes was now confirmed in the depths of his ice blue eyes. He doesn't mean to do me lasting harm she now knew. Without the need for words, as if they were connected in mind and soul, she now felt that no matter where this was headed, she was safe in his energy.
A captive of his of sorts, sure, as she was certainly going nowhere until it was over, but it felt safe at least, although if she ever tried to explain 'why' in the future, she knew it'd be a hopeless exercise. But the feeling was all that mattered now, and she began to understand the reason behind all this as The Scotsman flashed that devilish grin once more as he cocked his muscular tattooed right arm back to send his hand crashing back down across her scorched skin. He is punishing me, she confirmed in her head. This is punishment. All those flirty moments they had shared had been *** for him just as it was for her, she now realised. He is letting his frustrations out, and due to the part she'd played in their dangerous flirtatious dances of the mind and eyes, she decided to give herself to his disciplining with all her heart, mind, body and soul. Resigned to her fate, The Fox took every strike now with newly born resolve. She winced slightly less each time, and the yelps that once bounced around the room now rattled around the inside of her clenched mouth and teeth.
The Scotsman had read the scene perfectly and knew now they were on the same page completely. The connection had been made and now they were both partners in crime on this wild adventure. The way she knew how to follow his wishes without a word spoken endeared her to him so much more, and there was no doubt that his arousal toward his Porcelain Fox would only continue to heighten intensely from here on out. As the *** rushed from every area of his body to his cock, he knew it was time. A few moments passed as the echoes of the last lashing and muffled yelp faded to nothing and the room returned to peace. The Scotsman reached into his pocket and took out his leather pouch. The sight of the bunch of black tie-wraps protruding from the slightly open zipper sent yet more jolts of electric current through his body and mind. The veins in his hands and arms bulged due to the heat outside and the relentless hammering he'd given his fox. He was on fire inside and out. And this was only the beginning…
The Fox dared to look around once more. She knew something else was in store as The Scotsman had stopped her punishment, but what next…? She caught sight of the pouch and marvelled at the undoubtedly expensive leather. He has class, she thought, but it was hardly surprising. The clutch of black tie-wraps sticking out the zipper, however, was a surprise. She pondered what new devilry he had in store for her for a few heartbeats, but it was short lived. There was now an urgency in The Scotsman's movements that showed his mind was set on some new plan of action. Before she could blink, The Fox was removed from the bed. Her legs were weak, and it took all her power to not collapse to the floor in a heap by The Scotsman's knees and hug into him. No, not yet. He's not finished with me yet.
As before, the power behind The Scotsman's guidance at the small of The Fox's back was like a *** of nature, and she knew there was simply no point in fighting against where he wished to lead her. She was in too deep now to ever look back. Ever. But when they began to approach the sliding doors that led to the scorching balcony, a fresh wave of *** hit The Fox like a tidal wave, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead that left her messy hair stuck to her scalp. She knew he was a daring and ***less type just from their interactions so far, but the balcony... what could he possibly want with me on the balcony…? Her ass ached and had handprints emblazoned across them like burning hot brands. Her white thong was nothing more than a drenched piece of skimpy fabric that housed a throbbing, raging, soaked pussy. She was a sweating, heavy-breathing hot mess and couldn’t even fathom her stern stranger finding her attractive now. But… she had come this far and was seeing this the whole way through, no matter what trouble it would get her into or how much of a bedraggled mess she felt like. And so, with a long gulp and inhale of breath, The Fox crossed the threshold into another depth of the blazing hot hell she had found herself feeling strangely at home in. Her last thought was, I really am a bad girl…

Expand  

 

  On 2/5/2025 at 6:35 AM, intellectualruffian said:

The Scotsman continued to hold a python-like grip on her wrist, though his warmth remained intact as he invaded her private space as if he owned the place. Within seconds he had entered, closed the door and enclosed them in the apartment alone, all without breaking eye contact once - a gesture that served only to soak The Fox's already drenched thong further. The door was now locked automatically to any other holidaymakers, but housekeeping, or dare she even think it… her husband, could enter at any moment; a madness mixed with *** had taken over however, and those trivial inconveniences were the last thing that caused her any alarm. Her focus was now solely on The Scotsman. He was scanning the room intently with stern eyes. He is looking for something, she thought, as he fixed his stony glare on the doorway to her and her husband's master bedroom. They locked eyes once more, and for the briefest of moments, quicker than the flutter of butterflies' wings, he almost seemed to grin. The Fox inhaled.
Before the basic bodily function of exhaling had even registered, The Fox was being marched across the open plan living area toward the bedroom. She thought for a second of protesting, but she simply could not breathe, let alone speak. She continued to hold her breath as The Scotsman ushered them both into the bedroom. The d***s and sliding doors to the balcony were left wide open and a blaze of sunlight penetrated the gap. The searing intensity made her giddy and finally exhale to gasp for breath. She remembered her hangover from last night's exuberance and thought for a minute that she had now been marched into hell for her sins and she was being led by the devil himself, suddenly manifested in the image of a well-chiselled, stern-faced stranger. Get a grip, she tried to command herself, but in truth she had lost control long ago. Just go with it, whatever he has in store.



As she struggled to regulate her breathing and clear her head, The Scotsman pulled one deft movement that made her gasp and inhale sharply again. He had been holding her left arm with his right hand so far. But with breakneck momentum, he switched to holding her left arm with his own left hand, and the grip felt stronger: more determined and ***ful, like a king snake instead of a python. She felt his right-hand palm now press gently into the small of her back. So soft, yet with the *** of a truck behind it there was no denying that wherever it prompted her to go, she'd do it. His mere touch on her back sent a tingle to her clit sharper than the relentless sun that was ***ing her senses from outside. She felt unsteady again but remained resolute not to show weakness. And so, with his left hand leading her by the wrist and his right hand steering her so confidently from behind, she found herself at the foot of her bed. The very same bed she'd shared with her husband since their stay began. They stopped. The Fox had still not exhaled, as if the fundamental task of breathing had abandoned her, but her mind was on autopilot now. She knew without need of further prompting. She knew exactly what was expected of her next. And she knew she was going to comply.
With only the slightest bit of guidance from the Scotsman, The Fox timidly clambered upon the edge of her bed. She knew that's where this was headed. She knew the instant he began to shepherd her to the room and through the door. With her free right hand, she was able to complete the task without looking too awkward due to the giddiness engulfing her brain and the limp feeling in her body from the insanity of the ordeal. The bed felt soft against her knees. For a moment she yearned to lay down on her tummy and bury her head in the pillows to sleep it off as if it was some sort of hangover-induced fever dream. But there was no chance of that, she knew; this was real, and this was happening and there was no escaping it. Part of her delighted in that, and she decided to embrace this wild ride, despite the growing feeling that she was doing something very wrong. That she was a bad girl.
The Fox began to shimmy up the bed, as she thought that's where sex usually happens, is it not? Up by the pillows, that's where he will want me surely. But The Scotsman's grip tensed, and he let her move no further. He means to take me over the end of the bed, she mused, and the thought comforted her somewhat. At least he won't see my face as I look a state in this heat, The Fox reassured herself. At least it will be different than the times she and her husband had fucked in recent times, which had been traditional missionary and simply a chore of habit more than anything nowadays. So, resigned to her fate, but thoroughly looking forward to hopefully being fucked good and proper for the first time in as long as she could remember, The Fox knelt on the edge of the bed. Her ass was in the air, exposed, with only the thin line of fabric of her white thong the last line of defence between her soaking, pulsating pussy and this stern dark stranger who had come to invade her private space. Her dirty feet soles hung just off the edge of the bed. The soles he had showed so much interest in, The Fox suddenly remembered. Will that entice him further to take me even more urgently? Will he touch them? A foot massage right now would be the best thing in the world. She hoped he'd touch them now. That he'd touch her. She wondered if his cock was raging inside his shorts at the sight of her offered up to him, soles, ass, pussy and all.

It dawned on her that the room was almost deathly silent but for The Scotsman's breathing and the faint sounds of outside. Something had to happen. It felt like an age had passed. Touch me, she silently pleaded. End this turmoil and touch me. Take me. Fuck me. Have me as your own if even for this once. She let the quiet silence of the room wash over her once more and wondered if he was ever going to fuck her and this wasn't just some game of despicable mental *** to punish her for whatever reason he had of his own. But then the silence was shattered. The silence in her head. The peace of the room. The vibe that had encompassed them in their own private bubble. Everything just imploded right then. She had felt a sudden movement from The Scotsman, and it had jolted her so much it frightened her.
The Scotsman had been standing there completely immersed in The Fox's submitted body and energy. He was enchanted by her dedication to her fate as he knew she must be struggling after last night's wine. Such strength in the face of this new adversity was to be admired, and he was quite smitten. The sight of her soles however had sent a rush of *** throughout his body, like lines of electric current coursing through him, and he simply could not control his urges any longer. Although he toyed with the idea of showing her mercy, he was resolute in his determination that this needed resolved, and in proper fashion. Never one to hesitate too long when action was required, The Scotsman cocked back his right arm and let fly with all his might, a thundering impact across The Fox's ass cheeks that turned this into a situation that there truly was no going back from now. Past the point of no return. How The Fox reacted would shape how the next scenes of their life would unfold together. Complete chaos and misunderstanding, or connection and understanding. As these thoughts swirled in his head and his right-hand palm burned as red as The Fox's ass cheek, the slap echoed and reverberated around the room until it finally faded…
The Fox felt numb all over. Paralysed. Her head spun terribly, and she thought for a second that she may vomit and blackout. She knew she'd been struck. The first thought was why? She was certain he desired her and meant to fuck her, but now she wondered if she'd found herself in real danger. The echo of the impact across her ass cheeks had made such a clean, piercing sound that bounced around the room she wasn't even sure if she'd made a sound herself. She must have, because her ass hurt like a bitch, she cursed to herself. Before she could process all this information properly, another savage jolt tore through her senses. And this time she did yelp. Loud and clear. If he means to hurt me, he'll know about it. Staying silent would be a task in any event, she knew. Sure, as night follows day, another lashing from his powerful hand came thick and fast. She let out another yelp. This time The Scotsman tensed his left hand and held her tighter. He doesn't like me screaming, she knew instantly. As shocked as she was at the insanity taking place, what The Scotsman did next surprised her. His next touch was gentle and strangely reassuring. He caressed her left foot sole, then her upper thigh, and ran his warm palm across the curve of her ass cheeks so softly she began to tremble as goosebumps ran riot across her blazing hot flesh. Her heart was beating out her chest like demon's hooves trampling her from inside now. Along with the tender sensation of The Scotsman's strokes, it was all becoming too much to bear.

She dared to look around. The Scotsman's gaze was fixated on his hand travelling across her reddened flesh, but when he saw The Fox look around his eyes met hers. She felt as if her heart had skipped a beat and would possibly stop if this madness continued. She needed something from his eyes. What was the purpose of all this? The answer came quickly. The reassurance from his soft strokes was now confirmed in the depths of his ice blue eyes. He doesn't mean to do me lasting harm she now knew. Without the need for words, as if they were connected in mind and soul, she now felt that no matter where this was headed, she was safe in his energy.
A captive of his of sorts, sure, as she was certainly going nowhere until it was over, but it felt safe at least, although if she ever tried to explain 'why' in the future, she knew it'd be a hopeless exercise. But the feeling was all that mattered now, and she began to understand the reason behind all this as The Scotsman flashed that devilish grin once more as he cocked his muscular tattooed right arm back to send his hand crashing back down across her scorched skin. He is punishing me, she confirmed in her head. This is punishment. All those flirty moments they had shared had been *** for him just as it was for her, she now realised. He is letting his frustrations out, and due to the part she'd played in their dangerous flirtatious dances of the mind and eyes, she decided to give herself to his disciplining with all her heart, mind, body and soul. Resigned to her fate, The Fox took every strike now with newly born resolve. She winced slightly less each time, and the yelps that once bounced around the room now rattled around the inside of her clenched mouth and teeth.
The Scotsman had read the scene perfectly and knew now they were on the same page completely. The connection had been made and now they were both partners in crime on this wild adventure. The way she knew how to follow his wishes without a word spoken endeared her to him so much more, and there was no doubt that his arousal toward his Porcelain Fox would only continue to heighten intensely from here on out. As the *** rushed from every area of his body to his cock, he knew it was time. A few moments passed as the echoes of the last lashing and muffled yelp faded to nothing and the room returned to peace. The Scotsman reached into his pocket and took out his leather pouch. The sight of the bunch of black tie-wraps protruding from the slightly open zipper sent yet more jolts of electric current through his body and mind. The veins in his hands and arms bulged due to the heat outside and the relentless hammering he'd given his fox. He was on fire inside and out. And this was only the beginning…
The Fox dared to look around once more. She knew something else was in store as The Scotsman had stopped her punishment, but what next…? She caught sight of the pouch and marvelled at the undoubtedly expensive leather. He has class, she thought, but it was hardly surprising. The clutch of black tie-wraps sticking out the zipper, however, was a surprise. She pondered what new devilry he had in store for her for a few heartbeats, but it was short lived. There was now an urgency in The Scotsman's movements that showed his mind was set on some new plan of action. Before she could blink, The Fox was removed from the bed. Her legs were weak, and it took all her power to not collapse to the floor in a heap by The Scotsman's knees and hug into him. No, not yet. He's not finished with me yet.
As before, the power behind The Scotsman's guidance at the small of The Fox's back was like a *** of nature, and she knew there was simply no point in fighting against where he wished to lead her. She was in too deep now to ever look back. Ever. But when they began to approach the sliding doors that led to the scorching balcony, a fresh wave of *** hit The Fox like a tidal wave, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead that left her messy hair stuck to her scalp. She knew he was a daring and ***less type just from their interactions so far, but the balcony... what could he possibly want with me on the balcony…? Her ass ached and had handprints emblazoned across them like burning hot brands. Her white thong was nothing more than a drenched piece of skimpy fabric that housed a throbbing, raging, soaked pussy. She was a sweating, heavy-breathing hot mess and couldn’t even fathom her stern stranger finding her attractive now. But… she had come this far and was seeing this the whole way through, no matter what trouble it would get her into or how much of a bedraggled mess she felt like. And so, with a long gulp and inhale of breath, The Fox crossed the threshold into another depth of the blazing hot hell she had found herself feeling strangely at home in. Her last thought was, I really am a bad girl…

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The quiet, anticipation, goosebumps, those eyes… 
I shall patiently wait for Part 4 *bats eyelashes* 

[in****]

  6 minutes ago, x-BlueDiamond-x said:

The quiet, anticipation, goosebumps, those eyes… 
I shall patiently wait for Part 4 *bats eyelashes* 

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Thank you very much for your comment. Really appreciate that 🙏. I hope to make time to finish part 4 soon.