A Walk In The Woods 15

I tripped over a tree root, stumbled, fell, and scraped my knee. I inhaled the dank peatness of the mossy ground, still covered with last fall's leaves, just inches away from my nose. "Move, keep moving," I told to myself. The pain kept me motivated. I got back up, and scrambled through the brush. I couldn't tell which way I was going, but I knew he was coming. My heart pounded in my ears. I glanced left and right. Which way to go? It all looked the same. The sky was dusky above me, the world was nothing but shades of gray, as I stumbled, naked, through the trees and the thorny devil's club, trying to get away, trying to escape.

"Move, keep moving," I told to myself. My legs were scratched from the thorns and brambles. My feet were cut from stumbling over sharp sticks and rocks. Sweat poured down my back. My heavy breathing was loud in my ears. What had started off as a beautiful summer day had devolved into this... this nightmare. I could tell I was getting deeper and deeper into the woods, as the temperature had dropped a good 10 degrees. Or maybe it was because the sun had set beyond the mountains some time ago. I sent a silent prayer to any god who might be listening for the bright nights of summer. I could still see. I wasn't completely helpless. I kept moving forward, climbing through a maze of alder bushes, trying to find an open path. I had to move faster. I knew he was coming.

I had no idea where I was. He grabbed me as I left my shop. I locked the back door behind me, but before I could even take a step towards my car, there he was, behind me, picking me up off of my feet, tossing me in the back of a van. I kicked, I punched, I screamed for help, but no one heard, no one came. He was too strong. He quickly subdued me and tied me up, leaving me on the floorboard like nothing but cargo. He must have driven me at least an hour out of town, blindfolded, bound, disoriented, frightened. He tossed me in the back of a boat, and we zipped up some unknown river to some unknown destination. I didn't dare jump out, I didn't know how fast the current was, or how deep the water was, or even where I was, and being tied up, I couldn't rely on my ability to float to safety before he snatched me again, or before I drowned or succumbed to hypothermia from the cold water. Its always cold, even in summer. He hefted me like a bag of garbage over his shoulder, and dumped me on the rocky shore. My shoes slipped off and splashed into the water when he lifted me. I could hear the river rushing by behind me, and the rocks felt slimy beneath my hands and knees. He untied my hands and feet.

"Don't move," he growled. I rubbed my sore wrists. He cut the blindfold off me with a knife. I blinked with the sudden light as my eyes struggled to adjust. He grabbed me by my neck and forced me to my feet. I slipped on the wet rocks, but managed to gain my balance. I looked into his face and saw cruel eyes. My heart pounded. Oh god, what is he going to do to me? I thought to myself. He had the knife in one hand, and my throat in the other. With wide eyes, I spotted a shotgun hanging from his shoulders.

He reached up with the knife, running it along my face. I whimpered. With a flick of his wrist, he sliced the straps holding my tank top up, and with a yank of his hand, he forcefully ripped the cloth off of me. The force of it pulled me off my feet, and I fell to my knees. He grabbed me by the waist of my pants, yanked up, and with a slice of his knife, and a tear from his hand, pulled my pants off of me in tatters. The underwear was next. Finally I knelt there, naked on slimy rocks, tears running down my face. Once more, he pulled me to my feet by my neck.

"Run," he spat into my face, and then shoved me away. I stumbled backwards, falling. I scrambled to my feet, and took a step back, confused. He pointed to the line of trees behind me, along the riverbank. "Run, bitch," he shouted at me. "Run for your fucking life!"

I didn't wait for a second chance. Choking back a sob, I turned and ran for the tall cottonwoods and spruce trees. "You better run faster than that, you stupid whore!" He shouted after me as I disappeared into the trees. I had torn my way through the bushes, dimly lit by the midnight dusk, getting as far away as fast as I could. I didn't try to cover my tracks. I didn't try to escape silently. Alder and mountain ash branches snapped and creaked as I forced my way through their dense thickets. The underbrush crunched beneath the soles of my feet. Thorns - wild rose, raspberry, devil's club - grabbed me, tearing at my flesh, but I kept on going.

He was getting closer. I stifled the panic that threatened to rise, and kept moving. I could hear him crashing through the forest after me, and occasionally see a flash of light. Headlamp? Flashlight? It made no difference. I moved away from the light whenever it peeked through the foliage, leaving a distorted pattern through the shadows. I was covered with mud and dirt. I had slipped and fallen more times than I could remember.

I scrambled up a steep moss and fern covered embankment on my hands and knees. Just as I reached the top, a shot rang out in the air. I screamed, and dropped to the ground, intact, terrified. I looked behind me and spotted him stepping through the trees. His headlamp played across me. I slid back, out of the light, trying to will myself deep into the ground, to blend with the moss and ferns, hoping the fronds were tall enough to mask my presence. I slithered across the ground along the edge of the embankment, trying to stay out of sight. There was a large birch tree in front of me. I crawled behind it and paused, leaning up against the smooth white trunk, trying to think straight.

He was twice as big as me, twice as strong, and obviously faster, and he had me seriously outgunned. What options did that leave me with? I wiped a hand across my eyes. Sweat and tears were blurring my vision. I reached out and grabbed a large branch that had fallen. I didn't have anything else, only suprise. He didn't know exactly where I was.

"You fucking bitch, I know you're up there." His voice came from below me.

"Come and get me, you sick fuck!" I shouted. I glanced behind me, I saw the light peering over the edge. He was climbing up. I crawled out from behind my tree, and silently slid back down the embankment, branch in hand. I emerged below him and a few feet to the side. Now who's hunting whom? I thought to myself I crawled up behind some mountain ash bushes at the edge of the hill, hiding behind them, hoping to blend into the background. I could hear him above me. He must have been following my tracks.

"Are you doubling back on me?" He shouted out. I didn't say a word. I focused on breathing slowly, I didn't want to give myself away. I could see his light flashing around. His light was a weakness, it gave away his position; I knew exactly where he was, and he was climbing down the exact same spot I did. My heart was pounding in my chest, my pulse thumping in my ears.

I could see him out of the corner of my eyes. His back was to me. I gripped my branch tightly. It was now or never. I jumped out, swinging.

It didn't go so well.

I caught him square in the back. With an "oof," he stumbled, but didn't fall. I didn't even stun him. He whipped around. I swung again, but he caught it mid-swing, and with a yank, pulled the stick straight out of my hands. I stood there in front of him, naked, unarmed, dirty, frightened, defenseless. He tossed the stick away, and grabbed me by my hair, snapping my head back fiercly. I cried out. I kneed him in the balls as hard as I could.

"Ouch!" He cried out. With an elbow slammed into his ribs, he let go of my hair, and I tore away, ready to run again. I didn't get very far. He tackled me to the ground, and we wrestled amongst the moss and ferns. I was lost, I knew it. He pinned me in mere seconds. I struggled, but I couldn't move. My breath came in ragged gasps. He slammed my head into the ground. "Fucking bitch!" He snarled. "Don't move, don't you fucking move."

I spat out a mouthful of moss. "You bastard," I gasped. "Please let me go! Oh god, I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt me. Please" I whimpered. I jerked my limbs, trying to find some leverage, some purchase, to escape my predicament.

"You don't have a choice in the matter, cunt." He wrapped his arm around my neck in a choke hold and started to squeeze, and bit my shoulder hard. I howled. He bore down on me with all his weight, and I just didn't have the strength left to struggle. I could barely breathe as it was. I just held still, hoping to find a moment of weakness when I could get free again, taking shallow breaths. He eased up on my throat. "That's better, bitch. You do what I want, the way I want it, and you might live to see the sunrise."

My heart lept into my throat. "Ok, ok. Just tell me what to do, and then please let me go," I begged desperately. He clamped a hand over my mouth.

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear a peep, got that? Don't make me fucking gag you." I nodded my head. He climbed off me, leaving just his knee, pressing into the small of my back, pinning me, while he fumbled with something, I couldn't tell what. He yanked my arms behind my back, securing them tightly with a zip tie, so tightly the hard plastic edges began digging into my wrists. "Get up," he ordered, pulling me by my hair. I struggled to my feet. "Now march," he said, shoving me forward with his hand on my back.

He steered me, one hand on my shoulder, on hand grabbing my zip-tied hands, until we came to a halt beneath a tall cottonwood. He bent down and zip-tied my ankles, and then pushed me to the ground, on my ass. "Don't try and escape, cunt," he sneered. I peered frightfully into his eyes. I saw nothing but contempt and cruelty there. He unhitched a length of rope off of his belt, and tossed it up into the tree, over a low-hanging branch above him. With a few deft movements he had tied a noose. He slipped it around my neck, snugged it down, and forced me to my feet by yanking the other end of the rope. I had no choice but to stand, or suffocate. He pulled until I was on my tiptoes, but still breathing freely, the blood still flowing freely to my head. "Please don't -- " I started to beg, but he cut me off with a hard slap to the face. My vision spun.

"I told you to shut the fuck up, you don't listen very well, do you?" he snarled.

I choked back a sob. The rough rope scratched my neck. He tied off the other end around the tree trunk, leaving me there dangling on my tiptoes.

He whipped out his knife. I involuntarily jerked away in fear. He got on his knees, and sliced away the tie around my ankles. "Don't think we'll be needing that," he commented. "There, now go ahead, try and escape all you want. I'll be back in a minute."

He left me standing there, and disappeared into the trees. Escape... now there was a bright idea. There was no escape now, though. Any move I made only tightened the rope around my neck, making it harder to breathe and think straight, and right now I most desperately wanted to keep breathing, and keep thinking. I stood still.

He returned a short moment later, knife in one hand, and a thin willow branch in the other. He didn't look at me, didn't acknowledge me, he just sat down near me, and began whittling the stick. With deft strokes, he peeled away the bark and carved off any knotty edges. After a close inspection, he seemed satisfied with his work. He re-sheathed the knife on his belt, stood up, and faced me.

"Now you and I are going to have a little chat." He stepped close. "Or rather, I'm going to talk, you're just going to listen, aren't you, bitch?" I nodded my head. "That's more like it." He took another step closer. He circled around me, tracing the willow branch along my skin. I shivered. The branch scratched my back, caressed my ass, circled my tits, stroked my legs, and then he stopped again, behind me. "Good lord, you clumsy whore, you're positively filthy." He picked a twig out of my hair. "You can't even manage to take a simple walk in the woods without getting covered in slime, can you?"

All I did was whimper. I heard a distinct "whoosh" through the air, and felt a sharp sting of burning pain lance across my buttocks. I yelped, and lurched forward. The rope tightened, I gasped for breath. He grabbed me hard by my tit, and pulled me back. My pulse pounded in my neck as blood tried to find its way to my head. He reached up and loosened the noose slightly. My head cleared. "You better learn to hold still, that's the last time I'm going to do that. Do you understand me, cunt?" He struck me again, and the burning fire spread from my buttocks to my thighs. I quivered, but didn't move my feet.

I nodded my head in compliance. He began a series of rapid taps across my backside. I moaned. tap tap tap tap. I writhed in pain, trying to find some respite, trying to process the agony, trying to think clearly. I counted, it was all I could do to focus. one two three four... He reached 100, and then with a solid, searing whack, that made me cry out, he stopped. I stood there, breathing hard, ass on fire, fighting back the tears.

He stepped up close behind me, and pulled me against him. I could feel every inch of him pressing up behind me. I could feel his hard cock through his pants pressing up against my hands, still secured tight behind my back. Oh god, I thought in terror, this is turning him on. "You made one fatal mistake, you stupid whore." His free hand caressed my stomach, moving higher, fondling my tit, tweaking my nipple, gently at first, and then harder and harder until I gasped. He released. "You should have been prepared." He whispered in my ear. His breath caused involuntary goosebumps to course across my flesh. I shivered.

The asshole. The bastard. The sick freak. I wanted to call him all of those things, but didn't say a word.

"You really ought to carry pepper spray, you know." He whispered in my other ear, sending a whole new slough of goosebumps down my other side. I trembled in his arms, my body betraying my horror. He bit me on my shoulder, hard, just below the line of rope. I moaned. He laced his hands through my hair, and pulled my head back roughly, against his shoulders. His hard body was warm behind me. "You never know what kind of freaks might be lurking in the shadows."

He stepped away from me. I nearly lost my balance, but managed to stay afoot. The cool air washed across my skin, draining it of the shared heat he had provided. Its absence was sad, in a way.

I heard the "woosh" again, and steeled myself against the inevitable onslaught of pain. He hit hard, and the incandescent agony ignited a whole new series of sensations. Again he lashed out, over and over, and fiery welts spread across my backside. I shuddered, I jerked, I twisted, I turned, but I didn't dare step away and tighten the noose. The bite of his switch tore my dignity to shreds in mere moments. I whimpered, I moaned, I groaned, as burning strike after burning strike rained down upon my flesh. Again he began the series of rapid strikes, their staccato rhythm prying into my brain as I struggled to count and focus. one, two, three.... 110, 111... I lost track as he struck harder and harder, finally ending with a searing slice across my thighs again, I shrieked, feeling cut open, feeling exposed, feeling like I was on fire. And then there was nothing but the sound of the breeze through the leaves, and his footsteps falling on the ground behind me.

He grabbed me by the hips and turned me around to face him. A shiver went down my spine as I looked into his face. I met his merciless eyes. A depraved sneer played across his lips. He ran his hands along my torso, his fingers suprisingly gentle, belaying the sadistic savagery I knew he was capable of. My breath caught in my throat as his fingers found my crotch. I gasped at the violation, as his fingers pried deeper, prying open my most private of places. I shuddered. My body betrayed me. This shouldn't feel good, not this, not him, not now, of all times and all places. My mind reeled against it. He toyed with me, rubbing my pussy. A lazy wave of pleasure crept out from his fingers, violating me deep into my core. I moaned.

"Do you have something to say?" He asked me.

"Please don't do this," I begged him.

He loomed over me and spat in my face, his fingers still playing across my sensitive clitoris. "I didn't say you could fucking talk, you stupid bitch." His spittle slowly trickled down my cheek. A tear leaked out of the corner of my eye. He reached up, and with his hand soaked in my juices, gently rubbed my cheek, massaging his saliva, and my tears, and my wetness into my face like lotion. My face smelled of my own sex. I turned my head away. He grabbed my chin, and forced my head back, looking deep into my eyes. "What's wrong? Doesn't that feel good? Don't you like it when a man touches you there? I can tell you do, you filthy whore. You're all wet for me. You reek of it, you sick bitch." He licked my other cheek, and then whispered in my ear, "Right now, you're my filthy whore, got that? I can smell your pussy. I can smell your fear. You're going to be a good little whore for me, aren't you?" He grabbed my nipple and twisted it fiercely until I cried out. He let go, and as the pain subsided, my nipple throbbed, a hypnotic pulse drilled into my chest, connecting with the heat rising from my crotch, and the pain from my backside.

I blinked back tears, not willing to give him the pleasure of seeing me break down, not willing to give him the benefit of a response. He smacked my face again, and fiercely bit my bottom lip, pulling me tight up against him by my crotch. I whimpered as his tongue forced its way into my mouth, a wet kiss of meanness and cruel intentions. He shoved me away from him, and I teetered precariously on my toes, hopping to keep my feet underneath me.

"Having trouble standing? Here, let me help you with that." He grabbed my right foot and bent it up at the knee, leaving me swaying on one foot. With the unmistakable "whoosh" of his switch, he smacked the sole of my foot. I cried out in agony, trying to wrench my leg away from him, but his hands held firm like a vice. Again he struck, and again. The nerves in my foot were on fire, and the exquisite agony spread up my legs. tap tap tap, the staccato rhythm that had become so familiar to me, drove into my foot, and up my leg, shooting signals of white hot pain lancing into my brain. I shrieked out loud. Just as my left knee began to buckle, and I knew I would fall, he let go of my foot, and I caught myself, gingerly stepping on my abused foot. I took a ragged gasp. He grabbed my left foot, leaving me balancing on my freshly beaten foot, and proceeded to repeat the process. I felt like I was dancing on hot coals, and the flames threatened to consume me, and reason escaped me. There was no time or space, there was only him, and the pain on my feet, and the wind on my tender ass, and my mutinous pussy, throbbing in rhythm, as if keeping cadence with his switch.

Then suddenly, there wasn't even that. He set my foot gently on the ground, and I stood, once again, on my toes, taking deep gulps of air, shuddering uncontrollably, tears fresh in my eyes again. I rapidly blinked, willing them back.

I could feel the heat emanating from his body behind me. "For your sake, I'd try to stay on your toes," he warned me. I nodded my head.

He smacked my ass with his hand, with enough force to cause me to take a step forward or risk losing my balance. With a loud snap, the switch tore into the front of my thighs. I writhed, crying out. With the familiar staccato of the tap tap tap, he continued striking the front of my legs with his evil switch, and smacking my ass with his hand in counter-point harmony. I moaned in agony. "I told you not to move, you dumb cunt, can't you hear me? Do I need to talk louder?" He punctuated that last question with a searing lash of the switch that had me shrieking anew in torment.