S.A.D., the S is for...

Eventually, I reached the glade where I had watched Theresa's spanking, but now I approached from the other side. The quickest path to my belongings was across the opening. It was just over fifty yards, and I couldn't see anyone around. In fact, it was hard to imagine anything scandalous had recently taken place in the quiet glade.

The other option was to pussyfoot my way around the opening to avoid detection. I was surprised to realize a part of me preferred this option not for safety, but to prolong the thrill compared to a quick rush.

But I never got the chance to make my decision. I shrieked as someone grabbed me from behind.

"Gotcha!"

I looked back over my shoulder to see the man who had spanked Theresa. He held me firmly by the arms.

"I..." I began, not sure exactly what I wanted to say.

"Come," he said and pulled me towards the opening.

I remained frozen, trying to make sense of the situation. This couldn't be happening. My eyes darted to the rocks that hid my immunity.

When I didn't immediately follow him, the man gave me a curious look. "You don't strike me as one who likes to resist. Right?"

I felt his grip tightening around my wrist. His gaze sharpened, and he looked me over as if planning his attack. I quickly shook my head.

"No, I..." I began, unsure of how to save face while explaining to him that I wasn't playing.

"Good," he said. "Come, let's do it in the opening where you spied on us before."

He had seen me! Without letting it on, he'd been aware that I watched while he spanked Theresa. The guilt left me unable to speak up as I followed him.

"Get on your hands and knees," he commanded.

On any other day, I wouldn't have accepted a man ordering me around. I would have shoved his commanding tone up his ass, told him to go fuck himself, and maybe even punched him. But this day was far from normal.

A part of me wanted to scream that I wasn't playing—to tell him that I could prove my immunity if he only let me fetch the hat from up on the ridge. But I was overwhelmed with shame. Why had I broken Isabella's instructions? The woman had given me two simple rules—don't spy and don't take the hat off. I had broken both.

"Go on," the man said.

His voice was demanding but calm, as if he was certain I would obey. And why wouldn't he be? He had caught me fair and square. By the rules of the game, he was entitled to spank me. My mind was spinning, and a part of me wanted to scream that this was wrong. I couldn't let this happen. But another side of me felt that this was perfectly right. Maybe I deserved this—for taking the hat off, for spying, and for getting myself caught. Unable to make sense of the situation, I sank to my knees and placed my hands on the ground.

My breath trembled as I waited for my captor's move. Was this really about to happen? Was this man, who I'd never met before, going to spank me right here in the forest. He seemed in no hurry, and I looked at his feet as he shuffled around me. I flinched as he pulled up my blouse to look at my lower back. I felt like an animal being inspected.

"Oh, this is your first capture," the man said. "Impressive to hide away for so long. You get to keep your underwear on then."

He sounded disappointed.

"Uhu," I said, not letting it show that I didn't understand the rules or how the man could tell from looking at my lower back that I hadn't been caught before. I regretted not pressing Angie for more details, but I had no idea I would get pulled into the game. To my surprise, a part of me also felt disappointed that my spanking wasn't going to be bare-assed like Theresa's had been.

But as the man sank to his knees beside me and lifted my skirt, the embarrassment was just about all I could handle. He left it hanging around my waist as he silently watched me. Was he admiring the sight? I was grateful I at least wore briefs—black ones with white lace details around the hems—which protected some of my modesty. Yet, compared to the slender redhead he'd spanked earlier, my ass was a fair bit bigger. I was showing him a lot.

And it wasn't so much what I was displaying as how I did it. Kneeling submissively on the ground made my ass accessible. He was about to spank me, and I didn't have it in me to protest. I gasped as his hand caressed my ass.

Oddly, there was something very liberating about accepting my fate. I felt as if the game relieved both me and my captor of responsibility. It wasn't up to me to decide the limits. The game dictated what he could do with my ass, and apparently the rules allowed him to grope me at will.

I tensed up as I felt a slap against my ass. My spankers' hand landed on my underwear across both cheeks. It wasn't particularly hard, but the imprint on my mind was startling. It was happening! I was having my ass spanked by a stranger! I yelped as his hand landed again.

I closed my eyes, as if shutting out the world would diminish my embarrassment. However, it only made me more focused on the sensation of my captor's hand repeatedly landing on my ass. Not knowing what else to do, I started counting the slaps.

...eight, nine, ten...

I knew it wouldn't stop at that. Theresa had received far more.

...eighteen, nineteen, twenty...

My spanker focused his attention on the parts of my ass not covered by my underwear. The stinging sensation was more intense, sparking jolts of pain and—to my amazement—pleasure. He sometimes paused to caress me, providing a soothing sensation as a stark contrast to the sharp slaps.

...28, 29, 30...

He increasingly slapped along the curve of my ass, and I felt it sway with the impact. I found myself wondering if my captor appreciated my sizable behind, seeing as there was a lot to spank. I marveled at my own thoughts. Had I gone so far as to not just accept my ordeal but also concern myself with how my spanker enjoyed my ass?

...38, 39, 40...

God, how many was I getting? Each slap wasn't very hard, but they started to add up. He groped greedily, wiggling my ass for his pleasure.

...48, 49...

"Fifty!" my captor exclaimed as he gave me a particularly hard swat over the center of my ass. "You're done."

The spanking had moved me into a trance, and I remained in my position. My spanker watched me for a moment before fetching a marker pen from his pocket. He drew one straight line in my lower back before lowering my skirt.

"Thank you," I said and realized I wasn't sure if it was for the spanking or for covering up my ass.

The man helped me to my feet. "You are welcome."

His politeness sounded bizarre. Who spanks a woman into submission and then acts perfectly civilized after? I found myself increasingly curious of the type of men who would frequent an event like this. Was my spanker as sweet as Paul outside of the game?

"So, you've done this before?" I asked, feeling stupid as the words left my mouth.

He looked amused. "It's my third year. I take it it's your first?"

I glanced up to where my belongings lay hidden. This wasn't meant to be even my first year.

"Most women don't stick around to spy on others," he continued. "They try to get as much distance between themselves and the hunters as possible."

"Uhm, yeah," I said, trying to sound casual. "Sorry about that."

"No need to apologize. It's not against the rules." He looked at his watch. "Listen, I'm perfectly OK to stand here and chat. But you do know you only have three minutes after the spanking before I'm allowed to catch you again, right? And the clock is ticking."

My eyes grew wide in shock. I glanced up at the ridge where my immunity hid. A second later, I took off running in the opposite direction.

I stopped to catch my breath when I felt I had covered enough distance. Mindless stampede was reckless. Someone could spot me from afar, making me end up on the receiving end of another spanking. I leaned back against a large tree to avoid detection from the back.

The whole thing was surreal. I tried to twist around enough to see where the spanker had marked me, but the angle was off. But, if I got caught again, the captor would see it. I realized this was how they kept track of which spanking level the women were up to. And based on what my first captor said, the next one would be without underwear, like Theresa had received it.

I shook my head at my stupidity. Once again, I had run away from the things that marked my immunity. I justified that I couldn't merely fetch my things right after the spanking. What could I have told the hunter—thanks for the spanking, but I'm actually not playing?

The sound of cracking branch interrupted my train of thoughts. I pressed my back against the trunk. The sound seemed to come from behind. And, yes, those were definitely human footsteps against dry leaves. My heartbeat intensified. I didn't dare to peek to see if it was a hunter or another woman sneaking around. I shouldn't be seen by anyone without my immunity hat.

The steps grew closer, and I tried to control my breath. I contemplated making a run for it, but I didn't dare. I was in good shape, but I didn't have the body of a sprinter. If the footstep belonged to a hunter, I assumed he would outrun me.

As the steps grew closer and closer, I became increasingly certain it was a man. The steps were too heavy to belong to any of the women I met before the game. And he moved too confidently in the open space to worry about being spotted.

I contemplated the option to calmly approach him and explain that I'd lost my hat? Surely, he would let me off the hook then. He might bring it up with Isabella, forcing me to explain myself. But I already had to do that at some point. Ending up spanked again wouldn't make anything better.

Whatever I was going to do, I had to do it soon. I could hear his breath on the other side of the trunk. Just when I was certain I was about to get caught, a cracking sound from afar set the footsteps off running. Heart pounding in my chest, I peeked around the tree to see the back of a blond man running away. I exhaled. That was close!

Too close. I needed a plan. I didn't dare to go back to where I had left my things. The man who spanked me in the glade was likely to linger there. An ambush predator who captures two prey in quick succession in the same spot will assume it's good hunting ground.

And that's what I was, I realized. Prey. A trophy to be hunted down.

The thrill that rushed over me made it hard to think clearly, but I tried my best to at least be clever prey. I recalled from my childhood that one of the best tricks to avoid detection in hide and seek was to rebound to checked spots. In the direction where the blond man came from was a formation of large rocks. It looked like a good hiding place, and if he had just searched there, he was unlikely to return anytime soon. I walked slowly towards the rocks, scanning the forest behind me for a stalker.

I realized as I reached the rocks that maybe this was a mistake. Rebounding to checked spots was a poor tactic when there were several independent seekers. If the man who just almost caught me thought this looked like a good place to search, so would the next hunter.

And as I walked around the corner of a large rock formation, it turned out I was right. I found myself face-to-face with Paul. He looked as startled as me.

"Oh, hi," I said and felt utterly ludicrous. What do you say to the man you have a crush on when you run into him during some elaborate spanking game?

"Hello Laura. I didn't know Angie talked you into joining the game."

"I... Uhm," I began. What could I say? That I wasn't playing but had removed my medic gear while spying on a couple? And then ended up spanked myself?

"Well, I'm very glad she did," he said.

His kind blue eyes morphed into a hungry gaze that made me feel small. I still couldn't grasp that he participated in this debauchery. My eyes darted to the side as I considered making a run for it. There were two conflicting emotions that wanted the same thing. One part of me wanted to escape the humiliation of what Paul might do to me; the other wanted him to catch me fair and square and give me what I deserved. Instead, I did nothing, feeling captured by his demanding gaze.

"Ah," he said as he moved around to my back and lifted my blouse. "You've been caught once before."

"Uhm, yes..." I said meekly.

He gave me a sly grin. "I wish I could let you off the hook, given that it's your first time playing. But rules are rules."

"That's OK," I heard myself say. What kind of a response was that?

"Good," Paul said. "I've wanted to do this for a long time."

His comment left me stunned. Had he really been thinking about spanking me before? And was I supposed to take it as a compliment? The image from my dream the night before flashed through my mind. I knew I must be blushing a deep shade of red.

Paul took a seat on one of the rocks, his feet parted and steady on the ground. He patted his lap.

"Pull up your skirt."

I faltered. Was this really happening? This was the man I had hoped to be set up with for Valentine's, but this wasn't remotely what I had in mind. Could I ever expect a normal date with him if I let him spank me now? Did I even want to? Yet, looking into his demanding eyes, I felt more drawn to him than ever.

Paul said nothing as he patiently waited for me to assume the position over his lap. He looked composed, as if he had no doubt I would obey. And why wouldn't he? I was running around just like Angie and the other participants. He was entitled to his prize.

That's what I told myself as I hiked my skirt up around my waist and cautiously eased myself onto his lap. I justified my behavior by the rules of the game. Until I found a way to withdraw without implicating myself, it was best to comply. I refused to acknowledge the thrill I felt as I slipped under Paul's control.

He didn't hesitate to capitalize on his right. As soon as I was in place over his lap, I felt his hand roam over my ass. If it was humbling to let a stranger amuse himself with my behind, the sensation was so much more intense when it was someone I knew. And that sensation was amplified when he hooked his fingers into the hem of my underwear. I tensed up, brazing myself for the inevitable. Protesting didn't enter my mind.

I gasped as he forcefully yanked my underwear down. A voice in my head screamed that this was wrong. How could I let him expose me like that? But my body cooperated, and I raised my hips to assist him when he pulled my underwear down to my knees. He placed a hand on my upper back, silently instructing me to stay in my place.

For what seemed like an eternity, he did nothing. I felt overwhelmed with humiliation. How had this day turned so profane? Here I was in the middle of nowhere, splayed over Paul's lap with my hands and feet against the ground on either side of his legs. My round ass pointed to the sky, and he was in no rush to stop admiring the view.

Smack!

My humiliation skyrocketed as his hand landed on my bare ass. Paul was spanking me! How could I ever look him in the eyes after this?

But my humiliation brought with it a wondrous sense of surrender. His hand lingered after each slap, pressing against my ass as if emphasizing his dominance. I failed to suppress a moan, betraying the thrill of submission inside me.

His spanks grew sparser, and he focused increasingly on running his hand over my bare ass. I had been too absorbed by the humbling experience to keep track on how many slaps he had given me, but I assumed this was a way to draw out the session. His extended caress built up the suspense, making me both dread and long for the next slap.

Determined not to leave an inch of my ass unspanked, his point of impact changed with each slap. My mind wavered between erotic elation and dreadful humiliation, and these sensations grew increasingly hard to tell apart. Through the turmoil, I recognized a strange sense of pride. It made sense that he had long desired to put me over his lap. A big round ass like mine was obviously a treat for him.

My moans escalated as he increased the impact of his slaps. He held my cheek in a firm grip before letting it rain down hard on the other side. The stinging sensation intensified. Yet, I remained still, determined to take all he had to give me.

Then it suddenly stopped. Submerged in a submissive trance, I panted. He softly caressed my reddened ass. I noticed that something very hard poked into my hip; he had truly enjoyed spanking me. Fearing that my own excitement would show, I pressed my legs together. Paul pulled my underwear up, cordially protecting my modesty.

"Was that it?" I asked, the tone of my voice as ambiguous as I felt.

Paul chuckled. "Sorry, the rules don't allow for more than fifty slaps. Another time."

What was that? Was he implying he might catch me again, or was he suggesting we'd continue this after the game? That wasn't the type of date I had in mind. Then again...

My pondering was cut short as Paul took out a pen and drew another line in my lower back. He helped me to my feet but remained seated. From the way he held his hands in his lap, it seemed he wasn't completely comfortable with showing just how affected he was by spanking me. Or maybe it was for my sake, ensuring me he didn't expect anything other than what the game permitted.

Amazed, I felt a strange urge to drop to my knees and go down on him. Had the rules not forbidden it, it would have seemed like the obvious thing to do. I marveled at my own mind. I always held out for a few dates before engaging in any sexual interaction, and this wasn't even a date. This was a stupid spanking game. As Paul looked at his watch, I took off running.

"Hope to catch you again," he shouted after me.

No way, I thought—at least not without a proper chase next time.

I stopped to listen after a few minutes of stampede. Other than bird calls and the light breeze rattling through the leaves, the forest was silent. Once I was alone and out of immediate danger, it was hard to grasp the reality of what had just transpired. As if looking for proof, I hiked up my skirt, pulled down my underwear in the back, and twisted around to look at my ass. I'd been spanked alright. My ass was noticeably red. I caressed my cheeks, feeling their radiating heat.

Realizing what I was doing, I abruptly pulled up my underwear and let my skirt fall. Someone could see me. Then again, if another hunter saw me, the shame of exposing myself would be the least of my concerns. How on earth had I got dragged into this? This wasn't what I had in mind when I decided to adjust my work--life balance.

On the other hand, I was far from bored. The spirit of the prey pulsated through my veins as I planned my next move. Hiding out obviously didn't work, and going back to get my belongings where I first got spanked still seemed unsafe.

Part of me felt disappointed as I decided it was about time to be rational. My best option was to go back to the starting point where Isabella waited. I didn't have it in me to explain what had happened—especially to Isabella—but I could make up a lie about dropping the hat and medic kit in a ravine or something. Given that two men had spanked me and a third had seen me spying, the truth would eventually surface, but hopefully I could be gone by then.

As I began stealthily moving back to the starting point, I thought about explaining myself to Angie. She would find out one way or the other what I had done. I was convinced my friend would understand, but that was part of what I dreaded. I would have to eat up every judgmental word I'd said.

And just as I was thinking about her, I was suddenly staring straight at my blonde friend. I had hiked up a slope and carefully peeked over the ridge. The sight made me freeze in my tracks. She was lying on her back, legs curled and her black sneakers pointing to the sky. I caught the scene just as the man kneeling beside her hooked his fingers in the hem of her panties and pulled them to her knees.