The Princess Bride/Brat. [MF] [D/s] [spanking]

**Disclaimer: This is an erotic parody fanfiction of The Princess Bride by William Goldman. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Mr. Goldman. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material.**

**18+, this scene contains dominance and submission, bratting and brat taming, spanking, sex, and rodents of unusual size. Just kidding on the rodents, actually. But they are lurking in the Fire Swamp close by.**

Note, Goldman provided instructions in his book for those who felt cheated that they didn’t get a reunion scene at the bottom of the hill. Readers can request the three page reunion scene he wrote by writing to the address below and asking for a copy. He reminds you to please include your return address. I’ve already sent my request but did not receive a response. Perhaps you will.

Urban del Rey
Ballantine Books
201 East 50th Street
New York, New York 10022

In the meantime, below is my BDSM version of this scene based on [my parodic theory](http://farmtofetish.com/archives/252) that Buttercup and Westley have a brat/brat tamer dynamic. **Please do not continue reading if you are under 18 years old or the thought of Westley dominating and spanking Buttercup squicks you in anyway.**

The Hill Scene
By: Letti Lovecraft

Westley and Buttercup crashed and tumbled to the ravine floor, dusted with dirt and scrapes. Westley rolled over towards Buttercup without a second to assess his own well-being; he lifted her head to meet his gaze. Westley’s eyes were deep and mysterious, like the sea before a storm. For a brief moment that stretched into infinity, no one else in Florin existed. Especially not Prince Humperdinck and Count Rugen, who were currently following their tracks.

Westley laced his fingers through Buttercup’s autumn hair, he was close enough to smell the ash and rose petals she’d used to wash with. He remembered the days on the farm when she’d bathe as often as Horse. Her beauty had grown, carved by an ocean of sadness. She looked different now, an elegance he’d never known on her before. Prince Humperdinck spared no expense to ensure his Bride was exquisitely groomed and dressed. Westley had a primal urge to strip her of that elegance, to remind her of the nights they spent on stable floors. He could feel his blood rushing at the thought of it.

“Can you move?” he asked.

“Move?” she replied, incredulous. “You’re alive. If you want, I can fly.”

Westley pulled her closer. Buttercup could feel his hot breath against her neck as they embraced, the scent of red wine still lingering on his tongue. His skin smelled of salt and earth. She knew that she would give him whatever he wanted in this moment.

*Just tell me what you want and I’ll obey,* she thought. *Do you want to hold me like this forever? I will stay in your arms forever, then. Do you want to slap me again? Do you want to kiss me, too? Surely, you must. Why aren’t you already? Is it the iocaine powder? Is it still on your lips? I know it’s irrational, but I don’t care. Kill me with your kiss for all I care.*

“The iocaine powder…” she said unsurely, afraid this would delay her plans.

“Not nearly enough to poison you, my love.”

He lifted her face to his and paused for a moment to admire her beauty, the soft curves of her face, the wintry cream of her skin. He kissed her gently at first, her lips blossomed beneath his. The intensity of their kiss grew abruptly, causing Buttercup to let out a soft moan and cling tightly to him.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, keeping him pressed against her, his mouth locked to hers. She could feel his arousal against her thigh. She reached down to feel the shape of him in her hand, caressing his bulge over his clothes and feeling him lengthen and harden. With her other hand, she grabbed a fistful of his pale blond hair and yanked it while biting down on his bottom lip. A small yet obvious act of defiance that would surely get his attention. She felt his mouth turn into a smile against her own.

“Did you forget the rules after all these years?” Westley said softly against her lips, sending a wave of desire crashing through her.

“I suppose I did,” Buttercup said. “Perhaps you should remind me.”

“As you wish,” he smirked.

Westley flipped Buttercup over on her stomach, then lifted her by the fabric of her dress, laying her across his knee. Buttercup remembered this position well, her core fluttering with anticipation.

“What rule did you break, my love?” he asked, lifting her dress to expose her petticoat.

“I’m not to bite or pull your hair, sir.” Buttercup’s face was blushing against the grass now, her bottom lifted as Westley knelt on one knee, holding her firmly in place by the waist.

“Only I’m allowed to do that to you. I know it’s been some time but I expect you to remember and follow my rules from this point forward. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir.” Buttercup bit back her smile, knowing that she would break the rules again if only to end up back across his knee.

Westley speculated that she would agree to anything in this position, and he also knew that she would certainly break his rules again. He delighted in her rebellious nature and the challenge it took to earn her submission.

“I’m glad to hear that. I’m still going to punish you this time… but I’ll go easy on you.”

“Don’t you dare go easy, farm boy” Buttercup commanded, biting him again, this time on his thigh.

Westley barely registered the bite, but the disobedience spiked his adrenaline. He grinned, rolling up his sleeves and lifting her petticoat. He pulled down her knickers, revealing the striking curves of her bare bottom.

“As you wish,” he exhaled, bringing his hand down firmly. Her creamy skin immediately reddened upon his blows.

Buttercup’s head shot up at the first blow, the thudding pain of his hand against her right cheek sent sparks of pleasure along her skin. She could feel the electricity travel down her thighs, her center swelling and pulsing with each spank. Westley’s spankings always started like this, the pleasure outweighing the pain at first. His slaps were still hard but she knew they would keep getting harder. Usually he started spanking over her clothes, but her outright defiance caused him to skip ahead a few steps this time.

*Slap, slap, slap.* He kept a steady rhythm, alternating from one cheek to the next. He could tell from the shade of pink on her bottom that she was close to the point where she would start resisting him, reaching her hands back to block spanks, or wriggling and kicking to dodge him. He was fond of that part, if only for the satisfaction of taming her and the submission that followed.

“I’m sure you won’t disobey me after this, will you?” Westley asked, suddenly increasing his force.

“No, sir.” Buttercup squirmed across his knee, the pain was becoming more intense and she knew it would consume her shortly. She yearned for that feeling, to be consumed by pain and forced to endure it.

Westley paused for a moment, caressing the scorching, crimson curves of her bottom. “Has Prince Humperdinck ever spanked you?” he asked.

Buttercup nearly choked on her own laughter. “I reckon Prince Humperdinck would rather I spank him,” she exclaimed.

“Has he ever kissed you?” Westley could feel jealousy flooding through his veins. He hated the thought of that warthog faced buffoon touching her. He continued spanking her again, increasing both speed and force of the blows.

Buttercup tried to block his assault with her hand, and he swiftly pinned her arm to the small of her back. “Answer me,” he growled, spanking her even harder.

“Yes,” she murmured, “but never with passion. Never with love.” Her legs began to kick as she writhed against his thigh. She couldn’t focus on anything other than the pain. Although she fought to escape, she knew there was nothing she could do but endure it.

*Slap, slap, slap.* Westley reached the peak of the spanking’s intensity. He held her firmly in place so she could not escape, but soon Buttercup stopped resisting and gave her full submission. Westley delivered ten more hard spanks before gradually decreasing the intensity.

Buttercup laid limp over his lap, hot tears rolling off her cheeks onto the earth below her. She wasn’t crying from the pain (well, perhaps in part), but mostly from feeling so overwhelmed with love. She never expected Westley to return from the dead, to be over his knee and submitting to him again. After some time, Westley stopped spanking her and began caressing her punished bottom. She could feel the heat of the spanking linger on her skin. Her center was throbbing, moisture dripping down her thighs.

“Has Prince Humperdinck ever made your body convulse the way it did in the stables the last time we were together?” Westley asked, slipping his fingers effortlessly between her legs.

“Of course not,” her breaths ragged now from his touch. “Only you have done that to me.” She could feel her face grow as hot as her bottom at the memory of that night, and the thought of him doing it to her again here in the ravine.

Westley dropped his knee and grabbed Buttercup by her waist, positioning her in front of him on her hands and knees. “Stay,” he commanded.

She wanted so badly to look back and gaze upon him, but she dared not move. She instead focused her other senses. She could feel the cool wind brush softly against her heated skin, carrying with it the scent of the alpine meadow flowers. She could hear Westley unbuckling his belt, the sound of his breathing and the pounding of her heart in her chest. She waited.

Westley pulled out his cock and let it rest against the curves of her red bottom, admiring the contrast it provided. Without warning, Westley slipped two fingers inside of her. Buttercup moaned, pushing herself deeper into his hand. His thumb moved masterfully against her clitoris, bringing her right to the brink before stopping. Buttercup let out an exasperated moan.

“Please, sir,” she whispered.

“‘Please, sir’ what?” he demanded, enjoying her desperation.

“Do to me what you did on the stable floors,” she said softly, the hot blush on her cheeks swiftly spreading over every inch of her body and culminating in her pulsing center.

“As you wish.” He thrust his cock deep inside of her, filling her completely and causing her moans to intensify.

Westley let out a primal groan as he rammed into her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head up and leaning forward so his lips were against her ear. “You will always be mine,” he whispered. The words were lightning to her ears, sending shocks of pleasure to every cell in her body.

“Always,” she breathed.

After about ten minutes of relentless thrusting from behind, Westley pulled out and flipped Buttercup onto her back, keeping her dress lifted and legs spread open with his hands. He buried his face into her, his tongue moving as masterfully as his fingers.

He lashed her helpless clitoris with his tongue, bringing her to the edge quickly and mercilessly. If Prince Buffoon wasn’t on their tails, he would take his time here, enjoying a slow and torturous build. Westley could feel Buttercup’s body tense, he flicked his tongue faster, forcing her body to seize with pleasure.

Buttercup cried out, her moans reaching a new pitch unheard before in Florin.

Westley wasted no time, knowing that this explosion could be doubled. He lifted her hips off the ground and plunged back into her, thudding against her fiercely.

Buttercup reached around his neck, pulling herself up so that her still burning bottom rested against his thighs. She glided her hips with his rhythm, tightening her embrace as she reached her second climax. Westley gripped her hair and pulled her lips into his, her moans filling his mouth as they kissed. He bit down on her bottom lip, just as she had earlier, and came with her, his cock twitching inside of her as he filled her to the brim with his seed.

They both collapsed breathless on the ravine floor, Buttercup’s hair a wild tumble against the clovers and grass. They stayed embraced for a few long moments, reclaiming their breath.

“Must we always make love on the ground?” Buttercup asked, amused as she recalled that they’d only ever made love in the stables, a pasture, and now a ravine.

“It seems that way,” Westley quipped. “We’re beyond modern comforts now. A bed will be terribly boring for you.”

Buttercup laughed against his chest, inhaling his scent and cataloguing every detail of this moment. She wanted to relive it later, as she knew it would soon have to end.

Westley kissed Buttercup’s forehead. “We have to go,” he whispered.

“I know,” she sighed, “he must be close to us by now.” Their passionate reunion had only given Prince Humperdinck an advantage.

Westley gave her his best smile and said “With any luck at all, we should soon be safely in the Fire Swamp.”**

**Direct quote from The Princess Bride novel by William Goldman.

You can read this story, it’s sequels, and other writings at: www.farmtofetish.com. Please note that the site is currently evolving and the owners intend to provide more content and products in the future.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/mgoagh/the_princess_bridebrat_mf_ds_spanking