She knew she shouldn't have come back. It had to be the masochist in her coming out. There had hardly been enough time to accept what had happened and move on, but she just couldn't forget. Couldn't bring herself to let the memories die. She had to hurt herself by going back to the cabin and sit in the silence reliving all the stolen moments they'd spent there.
The pain was better than the numbness she was feeling, she told herself, trying to justify the insanity to herself. She didn't believe it though and no-one else would either. But in her mind, it made her feel better about breaking the promise they'd made to each other. When its over, its over. No guilt, no recriminations and no contact. Just move on. That was the part that killed her the most. He had been such a major part of her life for so long that she felt empty without him. She picked up the phone so many times, checking to see if it was still working, desperate to hear it ringing and his voice on the other end telling her where and when to meet him. What she would have to be wearing and all the things he wanted to do to her. Back then, just looking at the phone made her pussy wet. Now it just made her feel emptier.
The drive up had been just as painful. She could barely concentrate on the road, her mind kept seeing the places they'd stopped and played at. The tree he had dragged her behind, her panties were still high in the branches from where he'd thrown them after tearing them off her body. She smiled sadly as she remembered the continuing drive. Her skirt up around her waist, her naked cunt on display to his eyes and anyone else's who saw into his car. The picnic area where he's bent her over the table and buried his face inside her from behind, but not allowing her to cum. The gas station where he'd made her get on her knees, his cock pumping in and out of her open mouth as he pumped the gas, not caring who saw them. She could clearly remember the face of the boy behind the counter who had been watching as she stood back up, wiping her lips. Each memory stabbed her like a dagger deep in her heart. Several times she had to stop the car to wipe the tears from her eyes or to stroke herself to orgasm as she relived each memory. Yes they hurt to remember, but they were still the most amazing experiences of her life.
It was late when she arrived. She welcomed the darkness. It enveloped her, protecting her from seeing the cabin in its entirety. It lessened the pain a bit, but didn't take it away totally. Just numbed it to a dull ache.
Opening the trunk, she dragged out her suitcase. It felt very heavy but she managed to haul it up onto the front porch of the cabin. The key was under the flowerpot. Cliched, but the best place for it. The door swung open easily and she stood in the open doorway breathing in the slight musty odour of the house. That would all change when she opened it up. It had been closed up and dormant too long.
She paused, her hands on either side of the door, as if she was holding it up. Then her subconscious dragged up the memory of him placing her hands there before he dragged up her skirt, her bare arse exposed to his greedy eyes. She heard his zipper slide down and heard him reaching inside. The urge to turn her head to see what he was doing was overwhelming, but she knew he would punish her severely if she did. Reluctantly, she kept still and waited. Before long she heard the soft sound of his moans and she realised what was happening. He was standing behind her and stroking his cock. She longed to turn, to watch or take it in her mouth, but knew the consequences of those actions. He had taught her well. All she could do was listen and wait. It seemed like hours. She could feel her pussy tingling, desperate for his touch, for his tongue, but she knew he wouldn't give them to her until he was ready to, not a second before. She heard his moans growing louder, soft grunts, the sound of his cock hitting his hand and finally, the one loud groan which she knew signaled his orgasm. Seconds later, it was confirmed by the warm, wet splash of his cum on her arse cheeks. She couldn't help but moan as she felt it trickle down between her naked cheeks. Then she felt his hot breath behind her, his strong hands pulling her cheeks apart. She held her breath. He knelt there watching his cum trailing down her crack, pooling in the dip formed by her puckered hole. The touch of his tongue on her skin made her gasp loudly. Slowly snaking between her spread cheeks, following the trail left by his cum, until it reached the puddle in her hole. Without pausing, he plunged it inside her, lapping his cum from her body. She knew he didn't do this often and that when he did, it was just the start.
Shaking herself back into the present, she stepped inside the door and closed it behind her.
Switching on the lights, she looked around. It still looked the same, exactly how they had left it, except for the dead flowers in the blue vase on the table. They had been lush and full of life when they'd left. But now, they reflected how she felt. Withered and dead inside. Smiling wryly at the comparison, she picked up the vase with the dead flowers in it and walked over to the window. The catch was stiff, but she got the window open and tipped the flowers out. Dead, withered and thrown away. A fitting comparison, she thought as she placed the vase back on the table. Looking around, she noticed the thin layer of dust coating everything. She'd deal with it in the morning. It had been there for months and obviously wasn't going to go anywhere overnight.
Sighing, she dragged her heavy case into the bedroom. She dreaded turning on the light, but there was no way to avoid it. Her hand reached for the switch, her heart pounding in her chest. The light showed the bed in the middle of the huge room, where it had always been. She'd always loved the wrought iron posts surrounding it, closing it in. It made her feel safe when she slept in it knowing they were there, like surrogate arms holding her. She also saw the white silk scarves still attached to them from the last time she'd been here with him. Unable to stop herself, she moved to the closest post and took a scarf in her hand. The cold silk seem to melt through her hand, stealing the warmth from her skin.
As if in a dream, she saw herself tied spreadeagled to the bed. The scarves tied tight around both wrists and both ankles, spreading her open to his eyes. He liked to gaze at her helpless body. His scrutiny of it causing her to blush and try to twist from his eyes, but she could barely move. He'd bound her too well. Her pathetic struggles just made him smile. He dragged the black leather crop he'd been holding up the inside of her left leg. She squirmed, trying not to giggle at the tickling touch of it. She knew how much that displeased him. And she never wanted to displease him. He stopped when it reached her inner thigh.
"Trying to hide my property from me?" he'd growled as he slapped the end of the crop against her naked exposed cunt.
She whimpered and softly begged for forgiveness, promising never to hide from his eyes again. She knew her body was his. His to do whatever he wished with it, whenever he wanted it.
He'd slapped it against her swelling lips again, loving how it left a faint red imprint against her pale skin. He brought the crop up to his mouth and licked the end. There was a faint taste of her cunt juice on it. She was already growing wet for him. He rubbed the end of the crop hard against her clit, watching the bud growing harder as the soft leather stroked it. He could tell from the gentle grinding of her hips that she was growing very aroused by the touch of the crop.
He pulled it away abruptly. He didn't want his whore to have pleasure until he was ready to give it to her. And he hadn't finished toying with her yet. He could tell by the brief flicker of anger in her eyes that he was right. She had been enjoying the crop. He reached down and parted her pussy lips. The glisten of juice there told him exactly how much. Grinning, he slid a finger between them, loving how she tried to arch up and control where his finger went. But he just pulled it away. He sniffed his finger as he walked around to the head of the bed. She tried to turn her head to look up at him but he grabbed her hair with one hand and held her head still as he reached down with the other one and painted her lips with her cunt juice. He watched as her tongue trailed over her lips, licking them clean.
Smiling, he walked slowly back around the bed, pausing at the foot of the bed, his hand lazily rubbing at his hardening cock through his pants as he let his eyes wash over her naked and tied body. Every inch of her was exposed to him and he enjoyed the sight of her writhing against the restraints. He could see her eyes watching his hand as it stroked his cock through his pants.