Date: Tue, 6 Feb 2024 02:21:02 +0000 (UTC) From: - - Subject: In Trouble with the Park Ranger "Hello?! Excuse me! Wake up in there, please!" I was being woken up in the middle of the night with a park ranger knocking on my door, only there was no door to knock on, just a zippered flap on a little tent. It was pretty dark, just moonlight and his flashlight, so I was squinting and trying to shake off the sleep when he told me to step out of the tent. "Uh, lemme jus... uh, let me just put something on quick." I was in my sleeping bag with just a pair of white briefs on. I couldn't find anything inside the tent, not sure where I put anything when I pulled over to get some sleep and popped up my tent instead of just nodding off in the driver's seat. I had woken up with a stiff neck enough times before to know that it was better to get the tent out. "Now, please, sir," he insisted, not quite raising his voice. I stepped out onto the cool ground, barely aware of what was going on enough to hold my hands in front of me. The morning wood was there but restrained in my underwear. I looked over at the road and thought that if somebody were to drive along at that moment that I would just look naked. He was in full uniform and tall and imposing. It felt like getting pulled over and made to stand on the side of the road. "Didn't you see the sign?" he asked. I stood there like an idiot for a while, still half asleep, before I asked what sign he meant and looked around. He stepped over by the fence and to the open gate that I had pulled into. "That?!" I asked, no longer trying to cover myself and pointing to a small wooden sign that was sprayed with mud and maybe a hundred years old. I probably wouldn't have noticed it in broad daylight. I said, "If I was really trying to trespass, don't you think I would've set up camp more than thirty feet away from the No-Trespassing sign?" He asked me if I had been drinking. I told him I had been sleeping. He asked my name and place of residence, and I told him my whole story, just driving through and nowhere around, didn't want to drive groggy, pulled off when I saw the parking lot, had the camping gear so set it up. "Sir, I have to search you. Do you have any weapons on your person?" "Where would I be hiding weapons on my person? I've got nothing on here. Look at me, I'm practically naked!" He didn't react but seemed a little annoyed. "Please place your hands against that fence and spread your legs wide." I looked over. "Are you serious?" "Hey! I have a procedure to follow, alright?!" Then he actually frisked me. I was leaning over a little, and he ran his hands over my arms and up under my sides, I guess to make sure I didn't have a gun concealed deep in my armpit hair. The summer air was cool but humid, and my skin was like goosebumps. His hands were big, and his fingers were thick, and his skin was rough where it touched where mine was soft. The hair on my legs had an electric charge as he ran his hands up my thighs. I felt my fingers grip around the fence that I was leaning over. I mumbled to myself, "Feels like I'm about to get a spanking here," just complaining to myself, but he answered. "Well maybe if you ever did, you would know how to follow rules! It's obvious that your father never gave you the proper discipline." I laughed. "You've obviously never met my father. I sure as Hell got spanked! All the time. If he were here, he'd give me a real lesson, any excuse. And then he'd probably give you one too, for not administering proper discipline." He grabbed my arm, losing his temper for a second. It was weird to have him get a little rough like that. Then he stopped himself. He told me to just keep quiet and answer his questions. I wanted to ask him how I could answer him and still keep quiet, but I learned from my dad how a smart remark can lead to a mark that smarts. I kept my mouth shut. Then I felt one finger slide into the waistband of my briefs, in the back, and pull the fabric away from my body, letting the air in and letting him peek in at the bare skin underneath, circling around me. Presumably, he was expecting to find a switchblade hiding in there or something. But then it really did feel like I was about to get a spanking, just like when Dad would go from swats on the underwear to bare-butt spanks, the change to being undressed. I had to keep my hands flat on the table or chair or whatever, and Dad had complete control. If he decided that I needed to have everything stripped off down to my ankles, then he did it. Standing there that night with this tall park ranger behind me, standing close next to me, with him exploring into my underwear and touching me, I felt an electric charge all across my whole body. A sigh and a small sound escaped my mouth, not quite what you'd call a moan. He moved back to my armpits again and asked what I said. I said, "nothing, nothing, ...I was just, remembering that feeling." "What? Getting spanked?" he asked. "Yeah, I guess you got yourself into this position a whole lot, didn't you?" He leaned over me, and there was this tension in the air. He knew I was that type who was always getting in trouble. "I wish I could just... get that as my punishment now, you know? Not have to worry about a fine for this. Learn my lesson and move on. I bet you'd make damn sure I never make this mistake again. And no paperwork for you to do, right?" It took a couple seconds for him to catch my drift. He laughed. Then his hand rested down on my butt cheek, almost like he was leaning on me. What I said seemed to crank down his temper. I figured that dealing with me might've been the end of a long and frustrating day, based on his attitude. He said, "I bet you would, wouldn't you?" almost like a whisper, just between us, so the sand couldn't overhear. "Probably better than the slap on the wrist that you'll get at the magistrate." And as he talked, his palm curved around like his hand was ready to go. After some silence, I said, "Well, I can tell that you've received proper discipline... but have you given it?" He said that he had and knew how to give me what I needed. His hand was glued to my ass at that point, almost squeezing. I could feel him through the fabric. Smack! came one good swat firm under the curve of my left cheek that startled me and made my legs flinch and clench. He asked me if that's what I meant. I said yes, that he could give me a good one and then we could both go get some sleep. He said that he figured it was probably a long time since I had gotten spanked, and I said, "Not as long ago as you might think." But by then his hand was already going in slow circles, palm down but fingers up, I suppose to keep the situation professional. I recognized the sensation. I loved the anticipation. Two good spanks landed in quick succession, with some verbal stuff right in my ear that let him bark out some frustration and let me speak submissively. Yes, sir. Then his hand was a grip. He held my ass and almost squeezed it. Then another whap down firm from his hand, and the sound echoed in the still air. The sound of his hand swatting my butt was all around us. He asked if that sound brought back memories, and I said that it sounded muffled, through the fabric, that I was used to hearing a real slap. "Ohh, so you're used to getting it bare ass, huh?" he asked. Then he slowly started sliding the stretch waistband of my white briefs down my skin and over thy curve of my ass and tucked under, lifting up the smooth skin for him. His hand smacked across and bounced off with a crack that snapped the silence. The sting was worse then, on the skin. "Like that, huh? Is that how you always used to get it?" Then another sharp crack. And another. I let him give me a quick round on my bare skin before I answered. "I never got to keep anything on," I said. And he just stood close over my shoulder with his breath on my neck, for a while while I waited and gripped the wood, still leaning over. Then his hands returned, and they took hold, and they quickly put my underwear to my ankles. I could feel him taking in the view, as I was fully exposed and fully hard. He stood to my side and stared. I felt like he was going to say something about it, but I didn't look over at him. I was ready to answer anything he said with a firm "sir' at the end, but he didn't say anything. I flexed it and made it bounce up twice, twitches for him. He slowly stepped back behind me. I could hear him inhaling. Still staring down at my hands on the fence, not turning or looking back at him, I said, "always happens to me... you ever get that?" He didn't answer right away, but eventually said, "Yeah once or twice," lowly, quietly. Then his hand slowly rested back down on my red skin, jolting me with a tingling, not quite like a sunburn. His hand stroked up the back of my leg to return to my ass. Smack! came another good spank, and he put some muscle into it. It had a snap, too. The sting made me jerk forward, and I flexed my dick a few times without thinking. Then I noticed that he was kind of craning his neck to look around my body and down at my hard cock. I loved knowing that he was looking, and then he gave me another hard swat across my bare butt and then another and another, all while he was looking down at me. I stifled a moan, I guess like a little whimper. He asked me how that felt, and I just breathed in quickly, whincing. But I could feel it starting. I knew it would. I could feel the precum, and I glanced down at my dick. I had kind of trained myself for it, and normally I'd be sliding it all over the head and down the shaft, stroking my wet palm across the tip. So it was oozing. A long line was dripping down to my feet, and swinging as I made my cock bob up. I could tell that he was staring at it. I loved showing off. He asked me if it always did that. I said that I always had a lot of precum, and it felt weird to suddenly be saying a word like that to him out loud. "If you keep that up, you're gonna make me cum." He didn't say anything. But then we both realized that his hand was still on my ass. "Oh yeah?" he asked. I got the feeling that he thought I was joking. But he didn't know many hours I had spent doing 'hands-free no-touch' stuff, rubbing one out without the rubbing. I felt like he was daring me to, as if he was thinking, "I'd like to see that." One little pat, and I moaned. Then again, but harder and sharper. My cock was bouncing up and down like it was chopping wood. My heels were up, and I could feel my prostate bulging between my legs. My balls were tight up close to my body. And then he just started giving it to me rapid fire, Smack, Smack, Slap, a little rub on the stinging skin. I kept flexing my dick, making it jump up, and feeling him leer. I moaned and flinched and felt myself shoot, as he made a little noise of surprise, like he was impressed with a magic trick. I felt a little of it land on my toe, and I looked down at the stain in the dirt and my white briefs around my ankles and his boots behind me. With one final smack on my ass, he connected to me. That one felt like a baseball coach, more of a congratulation than a punishment. He asked if I had learned my lesson, and I gave him a real "Yes, Sir!" I pulled up my underwear again, rubbing my sore ass. "You, uh... you want to just sleep here? There's room for two." He nodded and followed me in, but we didn't get any sleep that night.