The Water Nymph’s Plaything: A Lesbian Spanking Fantasy Adventure
The Water Nymph’s Plaything: Chapter 2

Modan didn’t deign to turn around, or even seem to acknowledge Sally’s thanks as she descended deeper into the warm, green water. In mere moments, it had risen up to envelop her hips, then her hair, before finally stopping just below her shoulders.

Sally on the other hand was already ankle deep into the murky soup before it dawned on her just where it was that she was running headfirst into. Skidding to a wet and sudden stop that ended with her flopping heavily down onto her bottom with a splash, she let out a yelp and a low moan before climbing shakily back to her feet, now soaked from head to toe.

“Oh, horsefeathers!” she cursed sharply, her tongue automatically jumping to the most coarse of oaths her mistresses ever allowed her to use without a thorough mouth soaping afterwards, slapping her palms against her waterlogged riding pants with a huff.

“Please wait just a moment, Mistress Modan!” she called out, her voice earnest and pleading, terrified that the nymph might actually leave her behind if she took too long. “I just need to, um… to get undressed.”

The last few words came out softer and far less confident than the others had as it occurred to Sally that she’d have to strip down to her skin in front of the impressive woman she was trailing after in order to join her in the bog. She wasn’t exactly a shy girl per se, but usually the only times outside of bathing in the communal bath halls that she’d ever been so brazenly disrobed in front of another person was when Mistress Alviren was disciplining her.

The memory of her former mistress’s stern gaze and having to undress in front of her (to say nothing of everything that followed afterward) made Sally blush even more, but she knew that she had no choice in the matter if she wanted to follow after the nymph, and so she forced herself to steady her nerves as she tried to will the flush in her cheeks to go away before the other woman noticed.

At the sound of the girl’s splashing and her pleas to wait, Modan decided to stop and turn around. Once again she was far enough into the fog that the details of her face were indistinct, but Sally had no problem hearing her low chuckle or the wry amusement in her voice as she asked, “Why do you humans insist on putting those ridiculous things on your bodies, anyway?”

The question caught Sally by surprise as she was hopping around from foot to foot in a desperate attempt to wriggle free of her soaked riding pants, which were now clinging to her like a second skin thanks to all of the water they’d managed to absorb, and she nearly toppled back into the mud as she tried to think of how best to answer it. She’d never really given the notion of clothing any serious thought before. Humans simply wore clothes, that was all there was to it, right?

Part of her, the impish part that tended to get her into trouble, wanted to say it was because it made getting spanked more exciting, but she clamped down on that impulse lest she give the naiad any ideas.

Although Sally was unable to pick out the details of her face or the upper half of her chest floating lazily just above the surface of the water, Modan had no such problems watching her, and seemed to rather enjoy the show the young mage was putting on as she struggled to free herself of her wet and muddy clothes.

“Hurry up now. I won’t wait forever, you know.”

Her admonition lit a fresh fire under Sally’s rear end, and with a grunt she finally managed to free herself of her riding pants, small clothes, stockings, and boots all in one mighty push that sent them flying onto the shore of the lake, and which sent her tumbling head over heels into the shallow water with another loud splash and a heavy thump onto her now naked bottom. A moment later her journeyman’s belt, tunic, and cloak went sailing through the mist after her other clothes, followed by her spectacles (which she wafted far more gently on a tendril of heated air).

Then, naked as the day she’d been born, she was back on her feet and sprinting noisily through the water just as fast as her feet could take her.

“Wait for me, Mistress, I’m coming!”

Modan continued to float in the water and watch as Sally’s breasts and hair bounced and bobbed damply until they were swallowed up by the lake. Chest-deep for the naiad was almost neck-deep for the shorter girl, and with a quirked eyebrow Modan asked, “I trust you can swim?”

“Yes Mistress,” nodded Sally eagerly as she eased up onto her tip toes to keep her head above water, grateful that she at least wouldn’t embarrass herself by flailing around like a cat tossed into the wash basin. “We all learn in our first year at the monastery.”

Her face felt warm from a heady mixture of being naked within arm’s reach of the imposing and enticing woman, and from the heat of the water itself. All around her it was hot and steaming, but not scalding, and the tender caress of the liquid across her sore and aching muscles (and parts beyond that made her blush just thinking about) felt absolutely wonderful.

She was starting to see now why the water nymph always seemed to be smiling.

I could get used to this…

Seemingly satisfied, Modan nodded and moved onward into the water once again until only her head was visible above the surface. From there she glided backward, still not leaving a ripple, as she kept her eyes focused on Sally. She watched in amusement as the girl felt the water all around her growing warmer, its currents beginning to caress along the contours of her naked body.

“What is a monastery?”

Treading water and doing her best to keep her gaze focused on the endless fathoms of Modan’s deep, black eyes instead of casting them lower in an attempt to probe the water’s depths for a glimpse of her naked flesh, Sally smiled fondly to herself as memories of her life among her Celestine sisters bubbled up to the surface of her mind.

“It’s like…”

She paused for a moment, groping for the best way to frame her explanation so that the nymph would be able to understand.

“It’s a place where powerful older mages gather as many younger ones as they can in order to teach them all about how to use the Power. It’s a wonderful place full of learning and all sorts of interesting books and things to see, and it’s where I’ve spent the last nine years of my life studying under Mistress Alviren.”

Upon uttering her mistress’s name out loud, something that she hadn’t done for many weeks now since leaving the monastery, a fresh blush that had nothing to do with the heat of the bog flooded Sally’s face. Part of her really missed her former instructor and wished that she were back home in the monastery right then studying with her, but she knew that she was just being childish. She’d made the decision to set aside those feelings of homesickness at the start of her journey, and she wasn’t going to let them creep in now.

She was a journeyman mage, and she would honor her mistress best by seeing as much of the world as she could and growing her powers, not pining for days gone by like some wide-eyed novice girl!

“Is it like a temple?”

Modan’s question brought Sally back to reality and she nodded quickly, swallowing a mouthful of water in the process.

“Exactly!” she said with a cough, kicking her feet a little harder than she meant to and launching herself above the surface of the water so that her round breasts bounced free for a split second before sinking back down with a splash.

In her excitement at having been able to get Modan to understand what she was talking about (something that was a bit of a rare occurrence whenever she tried to explain things to others, if truth be told) she’d let herself get a little carried away. Blushing and smiling awkwardly in a silent apology for splashing around like she were back home swimming in the water woods for fun, she settled once more into a more dignified tread that befit her role of wandering mage.

“I see.” Modan said, thoughtfully. “I used to have a temple, you know.”

A moment of silence descended upon the two of them as they swam past several thick, mangrove-like trees and over to the edge of a round clearing. Above them was a break in the roof of branches and hanging creepers, and sunlight filtered down weakly through the column of steam. In the center of the lake, Sally saw now that there was a crescent shaped island lined with tall standing-stones, and in the center of that island she could just make out the edge of a pit of boiling mud.

“This is where I dwell,” explained Modan, gesturing toward the central island.

“Wow…” breathed the young mage, completely overcome by the sheer, raw majesty of it all.

“Mind the water-snakes,” added Modan, seemingly as an afterthought, amused by the girl’s naked fascination. “They’ll only bite if you provoke them, but I’d still be careful if I were you.”

Sally’s mostly-even swimming momentarily devolved into a graceless flailing at her warning about the snakes, her words immediately making her think that she felt something thick and slimy slithering past her under the water. Then, realizing that thrashing around in their home may count as provoking them, she forced herself to resume her rhythmic treading.

“R-right!”

With that, the nymph turned to fully face her, eying her coolly, her lips just above the murky, steaming water.

“So, what is it that you wish to learn?”

“Everything! I want to know everything there is to know about you, Modan,” answered Sally in a rush, forgetting to include the title of “Mistress” in her excitement as she beamed brightly at the woman in front of her. “All the books in the monastery only ever mentioned water nymphs in passing with stupid stuff like, ‘never cross a water nymph’ or ‘only a fool steps into a nymph’s domain uninvited’!”

At these, she pitched her voice into a low mocking baritone as if quoting one of her dusty old instructors, before realizing that that probably wasn’t proper behavior either and adding with a stiff bow of her head and a stutter.

“I-I mean… I just want to learn everything there is to know about you. How you live, what you eat, how you spend your free time… You know, the basics.”

‘Hmmm… Well, you haven’t crossed me, yet, and I did invite you, so I suppose you probably think that you have nothing to worry about?’ pressed Modan, hovering just a foot away from the blonde acolyte, her lips ever so close to the young mage’s as they twitched up into a predatory grin.

Sally felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Um… yes?”

At that distance she was able to make out the faint aquamarine hue of Modan’s mouth and nostrils, and the wet, black pools that were her irises and pupils.

She has such beautiful lips… she thought before catching herself and blushing even more. Stop it, Sally, you’re here to learn!

Modan merely giggled again at the girl’s apprehension and replied, “Very well then, allow me to answer your silly questions.”

Floating lazily in front of her, she shrugged.

”I simply… live. I eat minerals, dissolved nutrients from the volcanic mud and the sludge on the swamp floor, algae and seedlings in the water, little fish and shrimp, the occasional tadpole, flies and dragonflies, birds and snakes, and of course, fruit and dead animals.”

Her eyes took on a hungry gleam, then.

“I don’t usually eat things with my own mouth per se, but sometimes…”

“Sometimes…?” prompted Sally, completely spellbound.

With a secretive smile, Modan ignored her question and instead glided smoothly past her and over to one of the thick, winding roots that formed a ring around the inner pool that circled her central island and climbed up onto it, her big, dripping body almost luminous in the fog.

“Come. Join me over here.”

As if she were a moth drawn to the light of her glowing body, Sally swam after the naiad, soon reaching the winding root and scrambling up onto it with far less grace than Modan had shown. Despite it having been a relatively short swim, she suddenly found herself short of breath as if she’d been swimming laps around the shallow lake for the last hour.

Modan sat on a little cushion of damp moss covering the root, and patted the spot beside her.

“All of this talk of food has actually made me crave a bite.”

She then looked at Sally expectantly.

“Really?” asked a suddenly reinvigorated Sally as she eagerly scrambled over to sit beside her on the branch.

“Wow, a chance to see an actual water nymph actually feeding, how exciting!” she gushed, all thoughts of stoic propriety blown away in the face of learning something new.

“Well?” prompted Modan, raising a green-tinged eyebrow. “Let’s see how well you understand the Power. Think carefully about where you are, and what you’re doing, and then try to make food again.”

Caught off guard by being thrust into another opportunity to impress the nymph, Sally straightened up in her mossy seat and closed her eyes. With a shudder, she brought her breathing back under control, taking in air through her nose in slow, steady streams before letting it out through her mouth as she sought the energies of the forest all around her.

She could sense Modan, her aura like a supernova among the stars of the plants and creatures around them, and it took her a few moments to adjust to her glare. But when she did, she was able to trace a line up the tree they were resting on and along a branch that hung just a few feet above them.

This time around she didn’t let herself rush, instead slowly and methodically adjusting the structure of the tree branch until it began to bud with fresh apricots. However, try as she might to focus her thoughts and channel the Power, all she was able to do was make the branch tremble and bud.

Gritting her teeth, she redoubled her efforts until sweat began to bead across her brow, but again, she just couldn’t do it.

Opening her eyes and looking shamefacedly down at her hands resting on her naked thighs, she let out a frustrated whimper and mumbled, “I can’t…”

Modan gave her a stern, disappointed look, but there was still the hint of a smirk on her lips.

“What are these fruits you are trying to grow?”

“Apricots…” replied Sally, squirming under her gaze as she glared sullenly at the shriveled, half-formed buds of what were supposed to be delicious treats for her host. “I’m sorry, Mistress…”

Some mage she was. Modan wasn’t about to let her stew in her own self-pity though.

“I have no idea what an ‘apricot’ is. And more to the point, neither does this tree. Have you seen any of these ‘apricots’ since you entered the forest? Or even outside of it? Perhaps where you come from, the trees have had all of your favorite sweets browbeaten into them, but these ones are free!” she scolded, leveling a haughty glare at her. “What kind of temple are you from, girl? It’s been a while, but I still remember what would happen to cultists who had such presumption in the days when I was worshipped!”

Modan’s sharp words, sounding more and more like her former Mistress Alviren with each passing moment, made Sally’s bottom clench involuntarily as she whipped her head back up to petulantly glare at her before protesting in a voice that came out far more whiney than she meant for it to.

“I wasn’t trying to browbeat them! I was just… I mean, the apricots back home are always so tasty and I just wanted to… I never meant to hurt your trees, Mistress. Honest, I swear it! I… I just wanted to share something that always made me happy with you is all…”

She wanted to ask what Modan meant by “in the days when I was worshipped,” but that could wait until after her apology had been accepted!

Modan simply shook her head, her long, wet hair swishing back and forth around her. Truth be told, her memories of the old humans who once lived and worshipped within her domain were dim, but some things had managed to stay with her better than others, and the treatment of errant cult initiates was something that had always managed to tickle her.

Without a single moment of hesitation, she turned and wrapped both of her strong arms around the presumptuous little mage and hauled her over her ample lap, yanking her forward so that her wet, moss-flecked cheeks were raised above her warm thighs and her swaying breasts were pushed into the rough bark of the root beside her.

“Enough babbling!”

With that, she delivered five hard, sharp, elbow-powered slaps against the fullest part of Sally’s lower cheeks, right where they looked to be the most sensitive.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“What are you-? Aieee!” cried Sally, her question transforming partway through into a squeal of surprise and then pain as a fiery sting exploded across her naked rear end.

Countless centuries of swimming (and maybe just a touch of the Power) seemed to have gifted Modan with a palm whose impact managed to send little bits of moss flying with each impact while making the spot where she’d just struck suddenly feel as if it had been smacked ten times in a row by Mistress Alviren’s most wicked ebony hairbrush.

In short, it hurt!

All thoughts of propriety having now flown right out the window, Sally began to squirm and writhe over her punisher’s broad lap, knowing full well that she couldn’t escape, but still promising to be good anyway as she scissored her ankles back and forth behind her.

Long years of punishments in the monastery had taught her well.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“What is wrong with humans these years?” fumed Modan, keeping her slapping hard and fast, alternating between cheeks to make them wiggle and ripple. “They’re either chasing the wolves, bragging about their pointy things, teasing the knuckers, or else making the poor cauldron trees grow ‘apricots’!”

Still slapping non-stop, she used her other arm to yank Sally further forward across her lap so that she could spank her right on the dimply creases where her bottom swelled out from her thighs, raising her right arm even higher as she began slapping faster.

“Oh please- Ack! Mis- Oh! Mistress Modan- Owie, owie, owie! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” cried Sally, her squeals and wriggling ratcheting up several notches in intensity as her poor, delicate sit-spots were roasted by the naiad’s furious palm. “I’ll grow you whatever you want me to, I promise! I didn’t mean to upset your trees, I was just trying to help!”

Modan smiled haughtily at that as she shifted her aim back up and resumed spanking all over poor Sally’s naked bottom, making each round cheek jiggle and bounce in one direction and then another as she painted their milky surface a vivid shade of bright red. As she continued her swatting, she shifted herself around under the crying girl in order to better feel her wet, naked skin against her own as her soft weight struggled and squirmed delightfully across her lap.

Oh yes, this was definitely the best way to deal with disrespectful humans.

Especially ones with such cute, chubby backsides.

‘Yes, you will!” she chided, her voice carrying a distinct note of self-satisfaction to it as she tried to see how many swats she could dish out in the span of only a handful of seconds. “You are going to learn a great deal from me, little mage, and when you disappoint me, you… will… be… punished!’

Struck by a cruel bit of inspiration then, Modan decided to land the next twenty smacks right along the deep cleft between Sally’s generous nates, intent on making the insides of her cheeks just as red and sore as their now-swollen centers and sit-spots.

The young mage’s face blushed bright red and nearly as hot as her rear end as she felt Modan’s slick fingers move to spread her bottom cheeks apart in order to gain access to her extra-sensitive inner cleft, exposing the creamy white skin there and her little puckered anus to the gentle caress of the bog’s warm mist.

“Wait, no, Mistress. Not there, please!”

High-pitched peals of mortified agony soon rang out from deep within her as the naiad set to work painting streaks of blazing fire across one of the most delicate parts of her backside, just as she had with her sit spots. It was devastatingly humiliating, but in spite of that Sally found herself panting heavily while parting her thighs and arching her back in order to give her new mistress more direct access to her target.

After all, she was nothing if not helpful.

This of course all happened on a mostly subconscious level for her, as the girl’s attention was focused more or less exclusively on trying to ride out her punishment and promising to be good from that point onward, wailing at the top of her lungs.

“I’ll obey, Mistress, I’ll obey! Whatever you wish of me I’ll do it! Please, no more, I promise I’ll do as you say and I won’t ever disappoint you again! I’ll practice every single day, I swear it!”

—

Modan on the other hand was content to just continue mercilessly punishing Sally, completely untouched by the buxom mage’s cries, yelps, and struggles.

For one solid minute she focused her efforts entirely on delivering one brutal slap after another all around the lower thirds of the delicate tush trapped across her lap, determined to make sure it would remember this lesson every time it sat down for a very long time to come before letting her attention wander down to the shifting pair of thighs that she’d barely been paying attention to so far.

There was a lot of area to cover, and she was content to take her time and make sure it all got a very thorough going over.

After all, it was vital that this adorable human learn her place in the natural hierarchy of her swamp if she were ever to have any hope of understanding the things she planned on teaching her.

So she spanked.

And spanked.

And spanked.

Modan eventually stopped slapping Sally’s cheeks when both of them were at last a uniform shade of cranberry red, and visibly puffy and swollen to the touch, as she’d started to grow bored of making the young mage yelp and squeal. She then relaxed her hold on the poor girl’s back, and began to use her right hand to curiously knead and pet her buns, enjoying their radiating warmth.

It was comfy, almost like her hot spring home.

Throughout this post-spanking ordeal, Sally was left to pant and moan, thighs squirming together with increasing need as she lay across the lap of the powerful and commanding water nymph, sniffling into her makeshift moss cushion, and occasionally letting out little yelps whenever her strong hands found a spot that was particularly sore or ticklish.

Unfortunately for her, there were a lot of them.

“Hmmm… you know what?” chuckled the naiad, pulling the ruby red cheeks laying across her lap apart to inspect the clenching and unclenching entrance hidden between. “I think I could definitely get used to this.”