Thank you

Your exclusive introduction to Fatal Path...

Due on duty in Djibouti, Africa, next Friday, marine sniper Rachel had seven days' leave. Facing Tromso ferry terminal in northern Norway, she welcomed the warmth of the coastal ferry ahead. Hard arctic survival lessons had filled twenty consecutive days. Brutal battle in freezing conditions, white-outs blocking her sights, she'd learned arctic survival lessons unteachable in the USA.

She repositioned her blue backpack, easing its weight's influence on her tender hip. Sliding on lethal ice, she'd crashed hard into a tree. Arnica cream had helped. Her marine gear was already airborne through Germany. In jeans, shirt and jacket, only her upright bearing suggested her military background. Returning stateside wasn't worthwhile in just seven days. Unlike her teammates, she had no family to visit. Turning her simple ferry trip into a mini cruise excited her passions, Norway's Fjord filled coastline, a natural attraction.

She needed to reach her cabin, the relative warmth of Tromso unfreezing her bladder. She slid into the obvious gangplank queue, ignoring several dozen milling passengers. The line closed up behind her. She kept her gaze forward. Had she queue-jumped?

Nobody had appeared organized. Behind her, she sensed a tall guy. Musky maleness dominated over her. Pleasant, except she needed to stay focused on her bodily needs.


She lowered one shoulder, acknowledging his attractive timbre without turning. "Sure."

"On holiday?"

She labeled him German. Holiday instead of vacation. And his clipped accent. She couldn't engage, her non-compliant body demanded her total focus. "Something like that."

He took her unsubtle hint, retreating, rising in her estimation for his kindness.

Registering took longer than she'd estimated. Receiving her ship id card, she bolted towards her assigned cabin on deck six. Her arctic superior cabin was small, perfect to contain a single girl. Dumping her backpack, she dived into her ensuite bathroom.

Exploring her cabin took sixty seconds. Wrapping herself back in her navy blue parka, she sent herself to promenade on deck five, their departure from Tromso imminent. Her afternoon filled with glorious scenery, celebrating her impulsive decision to board the MS Nordkysten. Early evening brought fresh baked pizza. Pepperoni perfection beat rations. She returned to her cabin, showering. Brushing out her long brunette tresses, she admired her honey highlights. They'd spent three weeks tied in a ponytail. Leaving her wooden hairbrush beside the kettle, she rested, her fresh hair spread across her clean pillow. As darkness fell, she changed into a warmer shirt and heavy cream jumper she'd purchased this morning. Replacing her parka, she left her cabin, zipping it tight. Two doors down, a guy with neat black hair zipped his parka in unison.

Catching her glance, he grinned. "Necessary."

He broadcast no rancor from her earlier rudeness. She smiled. "I hope The Northern Lights are worth it."

"I'm Alexander. Would you like to join me?"

Her smile continued. His clipped accent, presented in less pressurized circumstances, felt softer, assured. Instinct overtook consideration. "I'd love to."

Leaning upon the ship's rail, she studied Alexander. Deck lights reflected his short black hair and smooth skin. Muscular arms burst beneath his parka. A tiny smile proved he'd recognized her observations. Turning fast, she leaned against the rail. Her hip complained. She winced, pushing free from the unkind white metal.

He grinned. "You moved like you've received a spanking. I assume not?"

"Assume nothing," she grinned. "It leads to mistakes."

"Spoken like a soldier."

"I am." His disarming nature had settled her. "I bruised my hip while training."

"Less interesting."

His crestfallen expression stung her. Disappointing him saddened her. "I know how spankings feel."

His discouraged expression burst into a fabulous grin. "More interesting."

They fell into casual conversation. He was a Swiss lawyer, building his career in Zurich. She revealed her sniper skill, igniting his fascination. Mandatory military service had taught him weapon use. She enjoyed his interest. It reflected well upon him.

Staring beyond the rail into darkness, she said, "Your first conclusion was I'd received a sound spanking."

Beside her, his energy transferred dominating heat. "I hoped we'd return there," he said.

She nodded, pleased she'd offered the opening.

"A spanked girl is attractive. Humble, meek, obedient, yet powerful beyond compare."

His description drove deep into her tight jeans, rumbling around her sex. Her training sergeant would have agreed. Bent over his lecture table, he'd educated her with his cane. He'd perfected her sniper skills, correcting math mistakes with rattan stripes burned through her thin panties. Combat fatigues down, she'd bent for regular beatings before her peers. Shame had focused her attention, drilling respect into her. His painful cane had taught intense self-respect. "Have you met many spanked girls?"

"None more pleasant than you."

She smiled. "I got caned during sniper training. Hard, frequent thrashings. Very humbling."

"I'm glad."

"I am too."

Sliding between tall mountains, bright green mist danced across the midnight blue sky, back lit by speckled stars. Leaning back against his comfortable, solid form, she stared into the green streaked sky. Vivid mist floated above snow-capped mountaintops, declaring its independence. The atmospheric abnormality transformed the star-studded night sky into her private theater, spreading Aladdin-like mystery around her universe. Reflecting off the dark sea surface, freak flitters, like vertical green piano keys, tinkled in the sky, delivering intense silence. Awestruck, the ship's passage passed below her, green streaks stretching over her head.

"It isn't real," she whispered. It was. She'd read about it. Solar storms sent vast clouds of charged particles into Earth's atmosphere. Captured within Earth's magnetic field, they sped towards the poles. Atoms and molecules collided with the sun's excited particles, creating sensational green wavy patterns. His arms wrapped around her, completing her contentment. She spent twenty full minutes soaking in the impossible. Infused with hope, she spun in his embrace, wrapping her arms around him. Leaning her head on his chest, she said, "Thank you."

Leaning down, he kissed her head. "You're welcome. It's magical."

His tone trembled through her, implying her presence was part of the essential mystery. She turned her face upward, seeking him. His lips connected. Warm confidence spread through her. Tasting his firmness, she shuddered in his arms. Stroking her cold cheek, his warm fingers marked out incredible potential. She sighed, nestling deeper into him.

"Come," he said.

She fit her hand into his. Warmth spread from his firm grip. He led them towards her cabin. Outside her door, he swept her into his arms, replanting his lips. Claimed, she softened. Wavy vivid green twisted across her vision. Her sex celebrating his certainty.

Released, she stood immobile, sensations still tingling her lips.

"Are you going inside?" he asked.

She slipped her cabin key from her parka pocket, sliding it into its slot. The mechanism chunked. She pushed on her door, stepping inside. Holding it open, she waited. He followed, letting it close behind him.

Tiny space challenged them. She grinned. Slipping off her parka, she hung it in the closet, taking his, too. Crossing her arms, she lifted her heavy cream jumper. Flinging it into the closet, it landed on her backpack. Her warm red and black checked shirt wasn't necessary in her warm cabin. She unbuttoned it, watching him. His black jeans had gone, replaced with tight black boxers. His planted legs owned her cabin. She ran her fingers over his tight black long-sleeved tee, its contours powerful beneath her palms. He shucked her shirt from her shoulders, revealing her plain black bra. Pulling her close, he enveloped her.

Even through her jeans, she felt his brutal hardness. Huge against her denim, it pressed into her, demanding her. She groaned, reverberating her desire against his solid chest. Shuffling backwards towards her bed, she knocked her hairbrush from the side. Reaching down, she picked it up.

"Pass that here," he commanded.

His order ripped into her. It wasn't a suggestion, nor a request. A definite order. She handed her hairbrush to him, meeting his heavy gaze.

"You deserve a spanking, Rachel. Queue jumping this afternoon."

Biting her lip, she pondered his declaration. "I didn't realize."

"Oh, I think you did. Afterwards."

This afternoon, when he'd closed the gap behind her, she'd realized. Unable to accept delays, she'd ignored her faux pas. When he hadn't complained, others hadn't either. She owed him. She'd needed her cabin. "It was poor behavior. I'm sorry."

He tapped her hairbrush against his palm. The light taps portended far worse. "You need a hard spanking, I'm afraid."

Her sex summoned her self-respect. Guilty as charged, she nodded.

"Take off your jeans, Rachel."

Loosening her decorative red belt, her fingers unsnapped her tight denim, lowering her zip. Checking her fate hadn't changed, she saw he'd removed his tight black top. Sat on her bed, his torso tugged at her. In his firm grip, her hairbrush tugged harder. She shoved her jeans down, leaning against the bathroom wall to remove them. Casting them into the still open closet, she slid it closed.

Facing him in her black bra and panties, their plain cotton coverage suited her situation. Planned for warmth, they'd mitigate the heat he intended to give her backside. His crisp stare swallowed her, drawing her near. Crossing mere inches took courage, his dominance leaving her no doubt about his intent. He took her hand. She lowered her gaze, consumed by his control.

"You need this, Rachel."

His simple statement resonated hard. She did. Her shameful rudeness to passengers behind her hadn't sat well, despite her desperation. She didn't want a reprieve.

"Bend over."

His tone demanded obedience. Pride delivered courage. She leaned on his naked thighs, lowering herself over his knee. Wriggling into position, her toes touched the carpet, her palms flat, too. Placed on her bare back, his warm palm settled her. She had lost her choices. He'd demanded her submission. Giving it felt honest. Honesty, she needed to feel. Her panties had risen, baring more of her cheeks. Vulnerability coursed through her. Despite their recent meeting, she trusted his innate firmness. He'd known what she needed. Holding her, kissing her, and now spanking her. She needed it.

Her heavy wooden hairbrush rested on her panties. She breathed in. Holding her breath, her brush didn't move. Exhaling, it lifted. A solid crack bounced around her tiny cabin, swallowed by natural boat noise. Her hair flung forward. Bright burn burst across her right cheek, spreading deep. She gasped. Another solid smack stung her other cheek. Shock settled into relief. It had to hurt. She needed punishing. She pictured her fellow queue members. Sting blasted their opinions into her almost bare cheeks, her panties rising under consistent assault. Sound smacks spanked her disobedient bottom, driving her sting deeper beneath its punishing weight.

Laying it on hard, he offered her no compromise. She expected none. Against her sore hip, his hardness proved his satisfaction. His pleasure pleased her. He should enjoy punishing her. Executing his duty demanded dedication. Directed towards delivering her hurt, she respected his need. Fire flames across her reddened cheeks, powering her cries. Captured by natural noise, her spanking remained their secret. It hurt no less. He slammed the hard wood into her bare skin, spreading the sting where she needed it. Sorrow reached into her shame, welcoming her situation. She held herself over his lap, accepting his cruel spanks. Delivered hard, they afforded no concessions. She appreciated his toughness.

She heard the hairbrush clatter as he tossed it towards the sidetable. His warm breath whispered in her ear. "It's over. You're spanked, Rachel."

His brawny arm pulled her upward, setting her on her feet. Seeing his hardness stretching his tight shorts, she stepped over his legs, sitting her spanked bottom on his legs. Sting thrust through into her sex. She pressed herself against him. His manhood stiffened further. Swept off his lap, he spun her onto her back, rising over her. Placed for his pleasure, she shimmied her panties down her legs. He removed them, flinging them aside. Her fingers dived into his shorts. He shoved them down, kicking them free. His sure fingers guided his manhood into her. Penetrating deep, he filled her. Gazing it his eyes, she let him control her. Stealing his pleasure, demanding her compliance. She gave. Forced to climax, he held her in abeyance, balancing her need against her desire. Her burning bottom commended his dutiful control.

"I had to spank you, young lady."

His words fired his release into her dam, condemning her. Tidal waves of turbulent release tumbled down her core, stealing her used orgasms, plunging more. Riding her pleasure, she released her pent up pool, losing all her tension.

Lying prone beneath him, her heart slowed against his chest. Listening to his breathing calm, she whispered, "I deserved it. Thank you for spanking me."

"I enjoyed it," he said.

"I noticed. You should. Responsibility has its rewards. We only have four days. Contain me, Alexander. Keep me in check the whole time."

"It won't prove easy. You'll feel my belt," he groaned.

"I should. Belt me for the slightest provocation."

Crossing the arctic circle, majestic mountains fell into fjords as they explored cold coastal towns. Her bottom remained warm beneath her jeans. She pouted, provoked, and invited his tough sanctions, ensuring she felt his full force containing her. Testing her limits resulted in beltings before bed every night. Pushing her performance too far with momentary actual rudeness, he made her grab her ankles naked, leathering her cheeks with sincere force. His toughness induced an immediate heartfelt apology. Contained as she'd desired, his positive company carried them south, past sparkling mountain tops, along the beautiful coast.

Coffee and pastries slid past their scenic vistas. Glimpsing the enormous Jostedal Glacier, mainland Europe’s largest, called for champagne. Miss-pouring her second glass got her a hand spanking in her cabin for carelessness.

She hadn't needed inspirational lectures or optional activities. The relaxed atmosphere onboard the MS Nordkysten soothed her, resting her brain. His solid command of her was stabilizing. Certainty, simplicity, and no obligation, except obedience.

Crisp air crossing her refreshed cheeks, she pressed against the promenade deck railing, leaning into him, watching their arrival into Bergen. They hadn't discussed their future. They didn't have one. Flying through Oslo and Istanbul tonight, the US marine corp expected her in Djibouti. Zurich beckoned him.

Deposited on the dock, she glanced at her triangular note. She'd folded her notebook page, sharpening her fold with her nail, and torn the corner triangle free. Written across its longest length, in her neat handwriting, was her email address. She kissed him, pressing her folded triangle into his palm. Parting their lips, she whispered, "Maybe somewhere we'll meet again." Stepping backwards, she licked her lips, grinning, unaware the note in his hand would one day save her life.

Rachel returns in lethal spanking series, Fatal Path, coming soon.

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