A/N: This one-shot request was inspired by that video of Ambrose wielding a sledgehammer. All sweaty and muscular and…well, yeah. You get the point.

Ambrose isn't cute or funny in this. He's going to be rough and mean. It contains Dom/sub elements. If you don't like that, then don't read.

This dark fairytale is for the lovely BrodieBlue.

Emmy always tried to focus on the good things in life. The nice, pretty things that caught your attention, warmed your heart and left a smile on your face. The bright and clear goodness in a person that you could see reflected in their eyes. The sweet taste of an apple, the soft, worn fur of a beloved teddy bear, the overwhelming curiosity that she had about the world, and the urge to answer that call to wanderlust.

On this particular day, Emmy couldn't help but notice the good things in life. She was walking along a wooded path in the middle of the forest, surrounded by lush green foliage, with ancient oak trees soaring up to the clear blue sky, patches of which she could see every now and again when the leaves high above her head swayed in the afternoon breeze. It was a hot day, but the light breeze managed to make it bearable. Luckily, the thin white cotton summer dress that she wore allowed her to remain cool.

However, wherever there was good, bad wouldn't be too far behind. She counted her blessings – the day that she had to endure today really wasn't all that bad. Her morning had been full of tasks, erring on the mundane side, and her afternoon was now being spent delivering remedies to the clients of her grandmother's apothecary store. Many of them were housebound and lived on their own, meaning that she was providing them with necessary medicine and a few minutes of company. Never mind that those minutes usually turned into hours, delaying her further. Emmy didn't blame them, she would be lonely too if she spent her days in a dark house in the middle of the woods. They all told her that such isolated homes had held much appeal when they were young – privacy, peace – but had quickly become a hindrance with age.

It was important to remember that she was a lucky girl.

Emmy came to a halt, her eyes wandering over the landscape in front of her. The well-trodden path continued on to the right, disappearing into a mass of greenery. Another route forked off to her left, this one not as clearly defined as the other, and more uneven with muddy patches and heavy rocks scattered about. She did a quick mental assessment of the situation – the safest path was to the right, it led her through relatively populated sections of the forest, was clear of major obstructions, and was mostly open and airy in nature. The option to her left was quite isolated, home to more unsavoury characters…and yet, it was also the quickest route.

She glanced down at the golden pocketwatch that was perched on top of her basket, nestled in a swathe of gingham. It was already late afternoon, and she had several more packages to drop off. If she took the shortcut to her left, then she would be able to complete her deliveries and make it home in time for the hot meal and an evening spent curled up with her book.

Biting on her bottom lip, she glanced around, as if the solution would present itself to her. But then, it already had. Yes, the shortcut offered an element of danger, but it was hardly likely to transpire…was it?

Spurred on by the thought of finishing her work quickly, she determinedly strode off to the left without further hesitation.

For the next half an hour, Emmy picked her way through overgrown bushes, ducked beneath the overhang of thick forestry, and almost tripped over the sharp rocks that jutted up from the earth on a number of occasions. Several woodland creatures had darted out on to the trail, causing her to shriek and grasp at her chest. She could hear her heartbeat thumping in her ears, the blood rushing through her body, all of her senses on high alert. The rabbits and foxes that had crossed her path paused for a moment, staring at her with huge glassy eyes, before sprinting away through the undergrowth.

She kept a tight grip on the basket, her knuckles turning white from the strain. Maybe this hadn't been the best idea. Perhaps she should turn back now and follow the familiar path. Granted, she would be delayed even further, but sometimes it was important to admit your mistake and move on. And yet she couldn't bring herself to do it, couldn't heed her own sage advice. She took careful steps as she slowly moved deeper into the wood, constantly glancing over her shoulder, fearful that something or someone lurked in the shadows, waiting for her concentration to lapse.

Relief poured through her when she rounded the bend and the darkness that had followed her lifted, sunlight streaming through the trees. She sighed, the tension easing from her body, her shoulders relaxing back down to their rightful position. The trees bordered a large, open meadow to her left, but she didn't have time to admire its beauty through the leaves. Instead, she continued on with the path that seemed to circle the circumference of the lush space. When she was about halfway around it, the sound of her tummy gurgling loudly caught her attention, breaking through the silence of her surroundings.

She cursed her distracted state that morning as she rushed about and attempted to get all of her chores done. In doing so, she had neglected to pack a snack for the trip. She rubbed her stomach and looked about, spotting some berries dangling nearby. Perfect.

Standing on tiptoe, she reached up and plucked two handfuls of the purple fruit. The bittersweet taste slid over her tongue, some of the juice seeping out and glistening on her lips.

"Mmmm," she signed in contentment, closing her eyes in order to better savour the taste.

A sharp, harsh sound cut through the air. Emmy's eyes flew open. It was an aggressive rhythm, and brought to mind all sorts of potential dangers. Laying her basket carefully down on a tree stump to her right, she moved over to her left, in the direction that the noise was coming from.

The bough of an old oak tree dipped down elegantly, a swathe of green leaves concealing her position from anyone standing out in the meadow. She had an expansive view of the space, and immediately saw the cause of the noise. A tall, broadly built man was standing out there, bereft of a shirt and wearing only a pair of faded, well worn jeans. They fit snugly over his firm thighs, and when he turned in the opposite direction, she could see that they hugged his bottom just as nicely.

His broad shoulders led out to heavy, muscled arms. Emmy briefly wondered what they would feel like to touch. There was a light dusting of dark blond hair on his pectoral muscles. His wide chest narrowed down to defined abdominals and ended in a tapered, slim waist. He was beautifully proportioned.

Emmy knew that it was rude to stare, and even ruder to spy on someone without their knowledge, but she simply couldn't tear her eyes away from him. He was compelling. The hair on his head was also dark blond, and fell haphazardly down over his eyes. They were almost impossible to see at this distance, the hooded lids guarding the secret of their colour. He had rounded cheeks that seemed to be at odds with the rest of his hard angles. His bottom lip was fuller than the top, the rosy pout thrust out when he moved his mouth while he worked, as if he were talking to himself. Golden stubble covered his jaw, and only made him more handsome, in her opinion.

Everything about this man screamed danger – not least of which was the fact that he was currently using an axe to chop up large pieces of wood. He was methodical in his work, swinging the steel without hesitation, slicing through the wood neatly and accurately. His body gleamed with sweat in the afternoon sunshine, his chest heaving with the effort that he was putting into his labour-intensive task.

He brought the axe down sharply and left it sticking up out of the tree stump. He raised his arms above his head, stretching out his long, hard body, drawing her attention to every indent and defined line. The man wiped the back of his hand over his brow, the evidence of his exertion obvious on his face and body. He bent down and retrieved a water canteen, throwing his head back to take a deep slug from it. His throat muscles constricted and retracted, amesmerising sight that Emmy was unable to drag her eyes away from.

The man suddenly glanced up in her direction.

Emmy gasped and jumped backward, pushing herself back into the trunk of the oak tree, as if she could disappear entirely by doing so. She stared directly ahead at the surrounding greenery, not allowing herself to breath, all too aware of her heart thundering in her chest. Heat pooled low in her body, her nipples hardening beneath the soft material of her dress. She bit her lip, fearful that sounds of desire could escape and betray her hiding spot. She clenched her thighs together and prayed that the stirring between her legs would fade away into nothing, even though she highly doubted that it could. The seconds passed slowly. After twenty of them had gone by, she risked taking a breath, hoping against hope that he hadn't spotted her. His mean exterior told her that she didn't want to be the focus of this man's attention.

A full minute later, she dared to peek out through the leaves again. She released a full-bodied sigh of relief when she saw that the man had resumed his work. Wandering over to her store of berries, she popped a few more into her mouth and thanked the spirits for her good fortune. That had been a close shave. Who knows what he would have done to her, if he had caught her staring at him? She really didn't belong in this part of the woods.

Deciding that it was best not to tempt fate, Emmy retrieved her basket and prepared to continue on her way.

She turned around, and found herself face to face with the man from the meadow. She took in a shuddery breath, her hand rising to her chest, her mouth falling open in surprise.

The man stayed completely still, staring her down without even blinking. Now that he was closer, she could see that his eyes were a light blue, but they gave nothing away. His expression was completely unreadable, which was frustrating to her. His predatory stance and presence in this part of the woods told her that she should fear him. And yet…another part told her that she should stay right where she was. Her chances of escaping were slim - he could catch her and overpower her without much effort.

Emmy didn't dare say a word. The man's eyes remained on her as he rolled his neck back and forth, easing out the inevitable cricks from his work.

He took two slow steps toward her, until they were about half a foot apart. It took everything that she had in her not to flinch or attempt to dart away. She felt as if she were coming face to face with a caged animal, unpredictable and dangerous.

Good girls didn't find themselves in situations like this.

"Tell me your name."

The words took her by surprise. His voice was throaty and deep, and absolutely unwavering in its command.

Without thinking, she immediately obeyed.

"Emmy."

He paused for a few seconds, still assessing her with those cold blue eyes of his. Her body was undeniably alive, her exposed skin covered in goosebumps, her heart pounding, her breathing quick and shallow. She didn't want to admit it, but…this man excited her. He was like a savage beast with his mop of unruly hair, his sweat soaked golden skin, and the defined musculature of a man who put his body to work every day.

"What are you doing in this part of the woods, Emmy?"

Every syllable was purposeful, drawled out at his own pace. He struck her as someone who lived on his own terms, and expected everyone else to accept those terms.

"I'm…delivering remedies to my grandmother's customers," she replied softly, running the pad of her forefinger over a straw seam on the basket handle. She had considered lying, but really, what was the point? He would know if she was telling a fib. He just would.

"In this part of the woods, Emmy?"

The way he repeated her name was disconcerting…and oddly arousing.

She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the nervous lump that had formed there. "Yes…well, I took a short cut."

"Do you always take short-cuts with your work, Emmy?"

His stare was so confronting, unflinching. She began to fidget under the intensity of it. It felt as if she had been called into the school principal's office.

"No, I just…wanted to finish for the day, and this seemed like the best way…"

The man moved so swiftly, that she didn't see it coming. He grabbed her by the waist and slammed her back into the oak tree, causing her to lose her breath.

"Do good girls take shortcuts, Emmy?"

He rasped the words into her ear, his lips moving against the shell of it. She clamped her lips together and fervently shook her head in response. His big hands on her waist made her all too aware of how much she desired this stranger. How could she want a stranger? Particularly one who put his hands on her and shoved her up against a tree when no one else was around…

"Answer me. Yes or no."

The steely undertone in his voice was hypnotic.

She didn't have a choice.

She had to answer.

"No…"

"Are good girls concerned with finishing early, purely for their own selfish whims?"

"No…"

"Then tell me, Emmy, are you a good girl? Does a good girl end up in this part of the woods?"

"…No."

"What does that make you then?"

"A….."

"Tell me exactly what you are, Emmy. Now."

"…A bad girl. I'm a bad girl."

"Yes. You are a bad girl. You spied on me through the trees, thinking that I didn't see you. I saw you watching me, saw that look you got in those pretty green eyes of yours. I saw the way you bit your lip and shifted your thighs beneath this dress." He tugged on the hemline, sliding his fingers underneath so that he could caress the feather soft skin of her inner thighs. Emmy jerked in surprise. She couldn't predict this man's next move. It put her on edge.

"I noticed your nipples harden and point through this flimsy material," he continued conversationally. "Was that your intention? Did you want men to notice your nipples?"

Emmy felt her cheeks flush. That actually hadn't been her intention. It was a hot day and the thin cotton was comfortable and cool.

The man watched her intently, casually rubbing a large palm against one of her nipples. He had moved back so that he could see her face, one hand leaning against the bark beside her head, the other providing that subtle stimulation. It was the barest of touches, and yet it was all that she could think about. He was all she could see. It felt so overwhelming, his presence was so all-consuming.

"You're a serious girl, Emmy." It was a statement, rather than a question.

She began to nod, but remembered his earlier order when he arched a brow at her. "Yes."

"You've got a busy mind. You're always thinking. Always planning. Always worrying."

"Yes," she agreed, a little breathlessly. How did he know these things? Was she that transparent?

"You need all of that to go away for a little while," he continued, pinching her nipple roughly without warning and holding on to it.

Emmy gasped, and rose up on to the balls of her feet in an attempt to loosen his grip and ease the pain.

"Stop it," he warned softly, increasing the pressure. "Don't fight it."

Realising that trying to reduce the sting would only lead to more of it, she settled back on her feet and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths.

There. It wasn't so bad once she gave in to it.

Without doubt, it was uncomfortable, but when she bore his words in mind and sucked in deep lungfuls of air, the pain was somehow transformed into a warm surge of pleasure. It spread throughout her body, all the way down to her fingertips and toes, a pulsing sensation that was intoxicating in its power and presence.

"Does anyone know where you are, Emmy?"

The significance behind his question gave her goosebumps. The implication rose up to the forefront of her mind, distracting her momentarily from the hold that he still had on her nipple.

"No."

"So you find yourself all alone in the bad part of the woods, in the company of a strange man, without a soul knowing that you're here?"

"…Yes."

She suddenly felt silly. She knew that the smart thing would have been to take the right path. If she had used her brain, and not been so preoccupied with getting home early, then she would never have found herself in this predicament.

But.

Part of her wanted to be here. The part that enjoyed how he cornered her and gave her no choice but to remain there and listen to his words. Listen to that irresistibly deep voice. To be confronted by his touches and how they made her feel. To acknowledge that a part of her was a bad girl. A bad girl who wanted him to put his hands on her in this dark part of the forest. A bad girl who wanted to be taught a lesson.

Would he give her all of the things that she wanted?

"You like it," he stated with certainty, his eyes assessing her steadily. "The thought of all of the things that I could do to you, without anyone around to save you, excites you."

He slid his hand down over her tummy, and underneath her dress. His fingers brushed over her panties, finding the prominent wet patch that had formed there. His expression didn't change, the only noticeable difference was a sly look that crept into his eyes.

Emmy was so embarrassed, and flicked her eyes downwards, unable to meet his gaze any longer. He was right. About everything. She wanted him to touch her, to punish her for being a naughty girl. Her mind was slowly admitting it, but her body had clearly already accepted that truth quite a while ago. Her panties were soaked through with her need, the cotton clinging to her lips, revealing the outline of her intimate parts, leaving nothing to the imagination.

He saw her red cheeks, her shy glance away, and her pulse beating a frantic rhythm at her throat. He released her nipple and smirked when she immediately reached up to rub it, coaxing the blood into flowing again. Emmy glanced up after a moment, realised what she was doing, and quickly dropped her hand. Why was she so drawn to him? And how did he reduce her to a bashful, quivering mess with merely a look?

"Admit it," he ordered darkly. "Admit that you want it. And look me in the eye when you say it."

Emmy reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his, worrying her lower lip between her teeth nervously. This was so humiliating – to confess that she liked all of the naughty possibilities that this man represented. Humiliating, but beautifully tempting at the same time. The two sides of her character were warring with one another – but which would win out?

He didn't push her, trusting that she would give in to his demand. Whether she was aware of it or not, her desires were written all over her face.

And he was in the business of meeting those darker desires when it suited him.

"I…." Emmy took a moment to gather her composure, steeling herself to allow the words to spill from her mouth. She wanted this. He was offering it to her. Now was the time to be completely honest with herself, and liberate herself from the perceptions of others, who they wanted her to be, who she thought she should be.

"I'm a bad girl. I want you to teach me a lesson, I need to be punished so that I can learn the error of my ways." Emmy took a breath, surprised at how forthright she was being. "Please help me."

He watched her for a few seconds, reading every emotion that passed through her beautiful green eyes.

"No."

The word crushed Emmy. She had been so hopeful that he understood her need, that he would be able to help her find release and calm her overwrought, buzzing mind. If she had thought that him making her say her thoughts out loud was humiliating, it was nothing in comparison to this fresh disgrace.

She simply couldn't look at him. It was better to make a quick exit with what little dignity was still intact.

She brushed her hands over the skirt of her dress and cleared her throat, "Right. Okay. I have to go. The parcels need to be delivered. Thank you."

That last word seemed to be out of place – what had he actually done apart from unnerving and embarrassing her? Leading her to believe that he could help ease her need? And yet she said it. Politeness was so deeply ingrained in her.

The man pressed his hips forward, trapping her there against the tree, nudging his crotch against her own. He leaned in and placed both hands on the bark by her head. He seemed to be fond of looming over her. She was too…it did all sorts of wicked things to her.

"There's that busy mind again," he murmured, sliding one hand to the nape of her neck and grasping it firmly. The possessive touch made her shiver. "I said no because you didn't ask properly."

"I said please…" She mumbled in weak protest.

His fingers tightened their hold on her nape, causing her to raise her eyes and silence herself.

"Sir. You didn't say Sir. Now try again, little girl."

A flush of relief shot through Emmy's body. He did get her. In fact, it sounded as if he understood her completely.

Buoyed by this knowledge, she tried again. "I want you to do with me as you see fit, so that I may learn how to be a good girl. Please help me, Sir."

"Very good," he crooned, his voice deep and silky. "I must warn you – I'm not the Prince Charming that you read about as a little girl. I'm not nice. I'm not gentle. If anything, I'm the wolf. If I choose to teach you a lesson, it's going to involve punishment, because otherwise how could you learn?"

Emmy gazed up at him, hanging on his every syllable. He was positively spellbinding. She realised that his words were intended to scare her away, but if anything, they only enticed her even more.

"Bearing all of that in mind," He was now mere inches away from her face, his warm breath tickling her nose, "I'm going to give you one last opportunity to run away."

The man's tongue darted out and slowly traced the seam of her lips, tasting the berry juice that glistened on her lovely rosebud mouth. He growled low in his throat, returning again and again to her mouth, licking along the soft lines and curves. It was so animalistic, Emmy couldn't help but whimper.

He took a step backwards, allowing her freedom, his body no longer touching hers. She instinctively wanted to reach out and grab at him, pull him closer and feel the reassuring weight of him pushing her against the tree.

"You have five seconds to start running," He told her, watching her chest rise and fall.

"One…two…"

Emmy's mind worked quickly. Although confident in her desire to submit to him, her logical mind still had to consider the last opportunity to escape.

"Three…"

Her whole body was pulsing, lit up by this man and the desires that he provoked. The other boys in the village had never tempted her in this way before, it was an entirely new experience.

"Four…"

She wanted him. She wanted everything that he could teach her, show her, and make her feel. In the very marrow of her bones, she knew what her choice was going to be.

"…Five."

He remained motionless for a moment, allowing the reality of the situation to sink in for her. She had chosen this path – an unknown, unpredictable, messy path – and she would now have to accept every second of it.

"Take off your panties," he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He was truly beautiful, and built for a woman's pleasure. Emmy briefly wondered how much pleasure he would allow her, if any.

The request caused her blush to intensify, but she was determined to see it through. She wanted to test herself and her limits, to understand who she really was, and the unusual desires that had plagued her thoughts for years. She needed to explore the curious thrills that overtook her body when her imagination whisked her away to dark places.

"Yes, Sir," she whispered, slipping her hands underneath her dress and sliding her panties down the length of her legs.

"Give them to me."

Emmy's mouth fell open in surprise, but she didn't question his order. She carefully placed them in his outstretched hand, watching in fascination as he rubbed the material between his thumb and forefinger before pocketing them.

"Bad girls don't get to wear panties," he explained, tracing his finger along her collarbone. He had barely touched her, and already she felt her need soaring to new heights. She didn't know how much longer she could bear it.

"You need to be taught a lesson, Emmy. We might be able to make a good girl of you. But, in order for that to happen, you must be punished."

"Yes, Sir."

He pushed his hand into her dark brown hair, cupped the back of her head in his large palm, and walked her over to the tree stump nearby.

"Put the basket down."

She did as she was told, his hand still firmly wrapped up in her hair.

"Bend over, and place your palms on the stump."

He was so assured with his words, never stumbling over his speech. Emmy shivered in pleasure, knowing that she would be at the mercy of those words for as long as it pleased him. She followed his order, wondering if her blush would now be a permanent fixture on her face.

"Arch your back and let me see that ass."

Emmy's eyes widened, but she acquiesced to the command. This felt so obscene. The light breeze flirted with the hem of her dress, lifting it gently, teasing her bare, wet pussy. Thankfully, the dress was long enough to conceal her most intimate parts.

He flipped the dress up so that her naked bottom was completely exposed. Her elbows almost gave way from the shock. This man cared nothing for her blush or embarrassment. He did exactly as he wanted.

"You've got a pretty ass, Emmy," he purred, rubbing his big hands all over her cheeks. "Just think about all of the things that I'll do with it. All of the things that I could do with it. I have plans for this ass, Emmy."

"Y-yes, Sir," she said, feeling weak at the prospect of those plans.

"You've been a very bad girl, Emmy and now you're going to face the consequences."

A soft whimper fell from her open mouth. If he continued to touch her like this, she would happily and eagerly accept those consequences.

"I caught you spying on me from behind that oak tree." He began to list off her infractions, squeezing her cheeks after each one. "You've been walking around with your nipples on show for all the world to see – very slutty behaviour. And let's not forget your most serious transgression…stealing." His voice reflected the disgust he felt for her actions.

"Stealing? Sir?" She glanced over her shoulder in confusion, and found him staring at her sternly. His eyes were cold as he assessed her, and his hands had stilled their movements.

"Don't play the innocent, Emmy, we've already established that you're a very naughty girl. You stole berries from that tree right over there. I tasted them on your lips. Are you going to deny it? Do you want to add lying to your list of infringements?"

"No, Sir," she said hastily. "I did eat the berries…"

"Spread your legs," came the reply.

If Emmy had felt exposed before, then that feeling was amplified by a thousand. She was acutely aware of her wetness with the breeze constantly moving back and forth over her private parts. The fact that Dean was staring at her, completely bare and spread open before him, only served to increase her excitement…and a little bit of fear too.

He removed his hands and wandered away, before returning moments later. He crouched down behind her, his breath ghosting over her pussy.

"Since you're so fond of enjoying stolen berries, you're going to enjoy some more." He probed at her lips, his finger running over her wetness. She felt something push up against her, something firm yet soft.

"Three berries," He murmured. "I'm going to put three berries inside of your wet pussy, and you will hold them there. You won't disappoint me, will you Emmy?"

She shook her head fervently, feeling him press the second berry inside of her. It was a strange, but not entirely unpleasant, sensation.

"No, Sir."

"Hmm, someone's eager to please," He smirked. "We might make a good little slut of you yet."

Her pussy swallowed up the final berry, and Emmy gently clamped down on them, directing all of her energy toward keeping them inside of her. He leaned in and gave her one long lick with his tongue. It took every bit of her self-control to not squirm.

What would he do next?

He stood up and draped his bare, sweaty chest over her back, his jean-covered erection rubbing against her pussy, almost causing her to lose her grip on the berries.

She would not drop them. If it was the last thing she did, she would keep them there. For him. Because it pleased him.

"If I find that you've disobeyed me, you'll come to regret it," He whispered into her ear, his voice nothing but a steely rasp. "There will be consequences. I know exactly how to deal with bad girls, and you'll get what's coming to you. Do not break position. Don't let me down, Emmy. Or else."

With that final whispered threat, he stood and sauntered back out into the meadow to continue his work, leaving her there, legs spread, baring herself to the world, wondering what he would possibly do next.

And when he would return…