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My bare feet pound against the forest floor, twigs and leaves crunching beneath them as I run. My lungs are burning as I force them to work harder, my heart crashing against my rib cage as it demands my attention. I ignore my body, I have to keep going, I have to reach open ground. If I can make it out of the forest before him, I’ll come out on top.
His footsteps have fallen silent behind me, I’m so convinced I’ve lost him that I’m tempted to stop to catch my breath. I continue on though, knowing with each stride I’m another step closer to freedom, which makes the shock of what happens next almost unbearable.
Strong, unexpected arms fling themselves around my waist as he pulls me to the ground. In a split second, he has me right where he wants me, my body beneath his, flat on my back as he straddles me, his hands pin my arms down, his legs weigh mine down with an ease that causes shame to bubble inside me.
‘Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!’
He slaps my face and the shock caused me to stop muttered obscenities under my breath. I stare at him wild-eyed, a bravado that I no longer have any claim to still causing me to feel defiant despite the turns of events. I struggle against him, knowing it to be fruitless, knowing he has won.
‘Face it babydoll, it’s over, you’ve lost, I caught you, you’re mine and now I’ll do whatever I want with you.’
He manages to manoeuvre his rucksack off his back while keeping me in place, unzipping it and rummaging inside before pulling out some rope. I groan at the sight of it, causing him to look my way.
‘Don’t pretend you don’t like where this is going, we both know you’re desperate for me to have my wicked way with you.’
His rope binds me, digging into my flesh as I try to wriggle free, going quietly isn’t an option, strongwilled and stubborn I refuse to believe I’ve been beaten. Even when he has me on my feet, nudging me forward signalling I should walk, I refuse to walk.
‘There’s a farmhouse up there that is begging to see some action. You’re a bad girl, escaping when you shouldn’t, making me hunt you down in this godforsaken forest, now you need to take your punishment like a good girl. Don’t you want to be my good girl again?’
My cunt spasms at the words ‘good girl’. I do of course love being his good girl, but sometimes I grow tired of it. The obedeience I see in myself sickens me and the desire to strike out and piss him off just grows too strong to resist. Which is how I end up running barefoot through the forest, knowing he’ll chase me, knowing that one way or another my need to rebel would either be sated or as was more likely the case, beaten out of me.
He stops trying to move me, he is however still standing behind me, breathing hard, his hands trailing across my bare skin, I can feel him thinking, plotting, wondering which battle to fight and which to let go of. Once he’s decided his behaviour changes in an instant and I know punishment has won over location.
He pushes me hard against the nearest tree, his hands untying my wrists before binding me to the large trunk, bark digging into my flesh, making my escape in only a bra and panties perhaps not my wisest move. Once again he delves into his bag, this time he removes a small yet menacing knife, only now do I take my situation seriously.
He stands in front of me, bringing the knife closer to my skin until it is flush against me, the blade is turned away from me but I know that could change in a moment and I would be helpless to stop him from causing red pearls of blood to drips from my body. Today is not that day though, instead, he pulls the blade across the fabric of my underwear, first my bra then my panties. Naked, tied to a tree and already starting to consider the appropriateness of my actions, he was already winning the good girl over.
The knife returns to his pocket, but he is no less foreboding without it. His face is so close to mine, his beard bristles against my face before he kisses me roughly, his hands grabbing at my tits before landing firm slaps upon them, his intent is clear, I’m not leaving this woods until my flesh is bruised and my will is his.
He wanders around the forest in the area immediately surrounding us, things have taken a turn, he’s serious about punishing me, but even so, he won’t leave my eye line, he won’t abandon me while I’m tied to this tree. What it appears he will do though if find a branch or selection of branches to beat me with.
When he returns by position seems to displease him, lucky for him, untying and repositioning me takes only a matter of seconds, I debate finding freedom again in the moments the rope is freed from the tree, but already I have softened. The desire now is to be broken and rebuilt by him, taking the form of the obedient girl I so often enjoy being.
The front of my body is rubbing against the tree now, his hands smoothing over my arse, I wonder if he’ll spank me, warming me up for whatever wooden impacted devices he’s fashioned out of branches, this, however, is wishful thinking. With a whoosh and a thwack, the sensation he causes is intense, I try to breathe into it, to prepare for the next blow but it comes too quick. He’s relentless, he doesn’t want to give me time, time means relief, time means subspace, time means adjustment to the pain and this is meant to hurt and it does.
Tears prick my eyes and my body thrums to the rhythm of the arousal coursing through me, I’ll cry and I’ll come and at the end of this, we can return to the farmhouse with a clear mind and a new focus.
When he’s finished wielding his weapons of wooden destruction he moves away from me and my body cried out with longing, forcing my lips to part and a moan to escape. He laughs at my plight, knowing what it is I need, knowing he’ll give it to me, knowing he’ll also make me wish I’d wanted something else.
I don’t hear him remove his belt or unzip his trousers, but I do feel his hard cock against the swell of my arse, my cunt aches, I’m so fucking desperate to feel him inside of me, to have him fill me, to be centred and grounded by the weight of my wanting. By the time he slides his cock against my labia, the sob I let out is part desperation, part apology. Words are lost to me, but my chest heaves as the tears flow, knowing he won’t stop because of them and being grateful for the release.
He pulls my hair before pushing his cock into me, my back arches, pushing my bum out, but my tits grind against the tree bark even harder than before. When he moves into me it isn’t with any preamble, one, deep thrust has me crying out, again there is no time for adjustment as he begins a steady rhythm, his fucking penetrating deeper than his cock is going.
Soon enough my legs are trembling beneath me, any orgasm I have now is being forced from my body, I’ve reached orgasm saturation. I don’t want more, I just want to curl at his feet, feeling his hand stroking at my hair, knowing I’m home.
He’s still hard when he pulls out of me, part of me wants to sink to my knees and take him in my mouth, but the larger part of me wants a bath before returning to pleasure him. Thankfully this seems to be over for him too, he starts to untie me from the tree, his actions are now gentle and careful. His hands caressing the rope marks that are much worse than they should be due to my incessent wriggling.
He scoops me up in his arms and begins the short walk back to the farmhouse, kisses land on my forehead as we go and I nuzzle into his chest, feeling a little bit vexed that my inner rebel has caused such a commotion, the peace and calm is back though and I have to admit that sometimes the bad girl knows just what the good girl needs.