Chase Me Catch Me Fuck Me Raw

Tree bark scratches against my skin as I slam into a trunk in the midst of thick woods, splinters flying in every direction. I cling to it's girth, my fingers fumbling, my legs like jelly; numb and weak from the surge of adrenaline, the biting chill of the night air, and my too flimsy negligee being all that covers me. I take a brief moment to catch my breath, trying to summon another surge of energy. My eyes dart around, quickly scanning the area as I map out the best route to stay ahead... to stay out of his reach.

My heart pounds violently against my ribs, each beat a brutal drum threatening to tear me apart. A relentless thump, thump, thump in my ears, followed by the frantic, desperate gasps of breath, as I'm starving for air. My senses are on high alert, my fight-or-flight instinct is fully engaged. Fear, survival, and a sensual excitement swirl around inside me.

I feel like a rabbit fleeing from a ravenous wolf, the knowledge that he's hunting me right now, that I am his prey only urges me to run more...

If he catches me, it won't be because I was weak.

Tonight is the perfect summer night; clear skies, shining stars, and a moon that casts a revealing light, offering truth to the shadows -- one that says he can't use them to sneak up on me, but nor can I use them to hide. The warmth of the day has faded, replaced by a chilling night breeze that cuts through my thin negligee and stirs my skirt, sending its hi-slit panels swirling in a wild dance around me. But this serene beauty is at odds with the danger that's stalking me, with the intense emotions filling me. The wolf in men's clothing, who's currently hunting me through the trees, hoping to catch me for a meal. A rush of excitement fills me at that thought, but while many would slow and help him win his bounty, I won't.

My current state of being works against me though, my skirt panels each becoming a waving pink flag in this wind, but I can't tear them away, because I don't have time to bury them. No matter where I put them in my haste, they will betray my escape. So, I wrap them around me and tuck them tight. I weave between trunks with more mobility now, hopping over brushy parts of the path to avoid making too much noise as I try to get away. But I can't run fast, my leg won't let me- a long-ago injury left it weak, so I put more energy into moving smart over moving quick.

I don't want him to win easily because I need to see his determination, his fight for what he wants. Only then, can I trust him for what's next. I try to strategize on the move, looking for my best options, putting in a real effort and passion to our evening excursion.

If I stay on higher ground than him, or near water, he might not pick up on my perfume. If I hop and skip around, avoiding dry leaves and noisy brush, changing directions here and there and choosing darker paths, I might keep the lead I have. If I control my breathing, I can outlast him too. But if I can't, if all my efforts fail... I am his. This hunt, this chase through the woods, hoping to catch me, hoping to claim me... He is the wolf.

"Run little fox, I'll give you a head start, but when I do catch you, and I will, your body is mine. The harder you try, the more you evade, the harder I claim you, the more I'll punish you, and the longer I will torture your pussy with my dick. Now go, run!"

Flashes of his intimidating speech randomly play out in my mind, but I push them down, focus, and press on. The adrenaline is coursing through me steadily, a wild beat in my heart, an aroused kick in my body to truly challenge his ability to have me. It's a thrill, and it's only building more and more the longer I evade and show him that I'm not what he thinks, I am more. I won't just play into him and accept morsels of pleasure, I won't be caught so easily. I won't submit so freely. If he wants me, he needs to prove himself capable and worthy to have me. Done, I am with being agreeable, being usable, being small... now it's time to demand better for myself, to demand a Dominant who will truly dominate me. Truly push and empower, truly please and support, just as I do in return and always have.

I hear something to the left. But I thought I was much farther ahead of him, a new spike of fear skittles throughout my body. Twichting my head that way, I try to focus in and find the owner of the sound, to identify if it is him. Has he caught up to me? I need to reassess, that's when I see a flash of something very human in the distance. He's too close, he'll find me for sure if I don't move now... I turn right and slink away as quietly as I can, holding my breath back a bit, too. But an arm wraps around me from behind. A rouse, that's what I saw in the distance. He tricked me. Suddenly, his chest sears my back in his body heat, and he has me.

"I'm impressed. Such a challenging prey, I'm going to really enjoy taming you now."

"Good luck with that, sugar." I laugh, then lick his cheek and kiss his lips in a wild feral attack of passion.

Now that he's caught me, I need to up my ante. He thinks to tame me, to own my body, but I wont give it without a fight. My biggest weapon is my mouth, so I throw myself at him, trying to over arouse him into losing his own control. If I dominate him first, then I'll know he can't truly handle me... because the kind of dominant I crave is not the kind so easily pushed, himself.

He grabs my chin, steps into me, and angles us for a better fuller mouth-fucking. In that instant, the power dynamic shifts slightly, and a small display of his dominance renders before me. My body responds instinctively, my arousal evident as my thighs grow wet and I moan into the kiss. However, it's not enough, and I know that. Seeing that for a moment he can push his power over me for instant gratification, tells me very little, I crave to see beyond that.

So, I trail my hands down, down, down to rub his cock through his pants, coaxing him into an urgent need to possess me as I now try to regain the control. I'm challenging the lusty school boy in side of him who needs to get off, testing his resolve, charging him with proving his ability to hold the power between us. I want him to fight me, to put me in place, to show me that he can rise to each and every bratty challenge of power I send his way, that his dominance is aboslute not fickle. I need to know that he is strong enough for my submission. So, I don't hold back, I rub and slide down his shaft, playing with his mushy head and working hard to please his cock here in the middle of the woods under a moonlit sky. And he lets me...

Then before things go any further, his hand grabs my neck, and he pulls me off him with a frustrated growl. He makes me take a few steps back so he can press me against another tree. His free hand reaches my thin nightgown and he tears it at the buttons. My naked breasts spill free, bouncing and perky with arousal. He grabs them and roughly squeezes and flicks the nipples, holding me against the tree still and taking what gropes and caresses he wants, as if little displays of free claim will calm his need for me.

"Mmm, you think your untamable, don't you?" He shoves a couple fingers inside of me and flick against the spot he knows I like it best, not going gentle at all.

"I know I am, besides, why would you want to?" I purr out as I reach inside his waistband, wrap my fingers and palm around the flesh of his powerful cock and start to pump him hard with a tight squeeze all the way up and down, then up and down, "Being feral is fun." I answer with a big mischievous smile.

"It is indeed, but darling, taming you means perfecting that feral energy into something even more pleasurable between us than you can imagine." He says, knowing it's the intellectual way that I'm best reached. But I know this already, I don't want to remain feral, regardless of what I say or how I act, I don't. But I also don't want to be tamed by the wrong person. I take this sincerely, when I submit, I want it to be powerful, not just pleasurable. I'm the meaningful and devoted kind of sub; I don't do half measures. When I do a dynamic, I put heart into it.

"I dare you to try then, tame me to be just for you, show me that it's you I should submit to and call Daddy." I challenge, knowing no man, no Dom has ever earned that particular title with me.

"Oh, I will, I promise you that. But I'm gonna take my time and enjoy every stroke and lick there is, too." He laughs then picks me up, throws me over his shoulder and carries me back to his place, where he locks me in and fucks me long and hard all night.

"Let's get rid of this gown, shall we?" He pushes me down onto his bed, pulls out a knife and cuts the remaining parts of my negligee off of me, tossing it to the side, completely unwearable now. Ensuring I wont run again, unless I want to do so completely naked. I giggle, knowing deep down how much I'd actually enjoy that, so he's not really thwarting me there. If I run again, nothing will stop him from tackling me down and fucking me raw in the open, and I would love every thrust of it. He returns my focus by climbing onto the bed after undressing himself, then trailing the sharp blade down my skin, from neck to lower lips. He's being very careful to not nick me, but hard enough to intimidate another rush of need. A slow drip slides down my leg in reply, and he groans, watching it with dark eyes full of twisted lust.

"Open that mouth wide and suck my cock with that tongue of yours, baby girl." He slides it in and my bratty ass immediately flashes teeth and threatens his manhood with a wink.

"Oh, you wanna push me still, lil one? Now you can do it without those plates, spit 'em out and fuck my cock with your gums, or I take this knife and fuck you with the handle, all while denying you any play with my cock."

He knows how much I need and want to play with his cock, with or without my teeth. I'm addicted to it, worshipping and lavishing and loving the cock that loves me. I can't push this moment any more than I have, so I let him win this round. But nothing said he was winning the whole thing. I'll show him just how much I'm still winning here, how much I'm still in charge over my own pleasure, how much he still has to earn me.

I give him what I don't often give any others, I suck his cock my way. I lose myself to the carnal pleasure I feel as I fuck him with my mouth in ways not normal, my advantage of nearly dying from illness years ago and earning myself a fake smile as trophy, one that I can remove and that allows me to go harder and fuller in giving head. I fit his entire length inside, flexing my tongue like a tenticle sucking his soul from his dick as I wiggle it all around him, flicking his little hole and rubbing my soft parts everywhere against his intimate skin. As I fly free in how I please him, my hands feel all over his thighs and his ass. Caressing his hips and playing with his balls and taint, while I gorge myself on the feast filling my mouth with its juiciness, it's delicate flavors. I love the way it feels inside of me....

I watch him edging that line of control right before my eyes, as I look up from still sucking and gagging around him. But at the last second when I'm sure I'll taste him on my tongue and down my throat, he pulls free and grounds himself fast, regaining his composure. It was a risk, because going my all into giving head pushes me into a higher state of being turned on, myself, closer to the place where I've been known to lose my own control...

"That fucking mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble, little lady!" He threatens then spins me around the bends me over his headboard roughly, "Hold on tight." He demands, but of course I don't listen, why would I. I look to see what he's about to do and, SLAP.

"Uuuugh!" My head goes back and my eyes light up. Part of me feels the pain, the anger of that pain, but the other feels the pleasure. I pull my ass in, trying to keep him from doing it again, but I don't get far and the sting repeats. After three spanks, I stop fighting it and push my ass out, my pussy aching and dripping as I ask for more, "Spank me again, make my ass red." He does, he goes harder and lights my cheeks on fire.

"Come here, my dirty little slut." He grabs my neck and pulls me closer, turning me so my back is arched against his chest, "Spread your legs, this pussy needs punishing too." He then holds me with a tight grip by the neck, and spanks my needy little bud, working the blood flow and nerves into hypersensitivity while watching my tits bounce with every slap he gives, not hurting me but building my needs higher.

"You feel that princess? Do you feel how much more I can raise your pleasure if you just accepted my control, my power over you?" I nod fast, still whimpering for more. "Do you still think your in charge here?" I nod again, and a snarky smile spreads on my face. "Then I'll just have to turn things up." He replies.

"And how do you think you'll do that?" I ask.

"Do you trust me to push this further, to continue with what we agreed with? Do you remember your safeword if you want to pull back and stop?" He asks. A quick check in on consent.

I nod again, "Red or Yellow, let's see whatcha got pumpkin." I tease but give a clear answer.

"Lay down flat, hands above your head, and ankles out, brat." He orders, but I don't listen, still.

"Hands above your head and ankles out, or I'll spank your tits next, little girl." He darkens, pushing me down and manhandling me into the position he wants. I comply and allow him. My tits are very sensitive, orgasmically so, and have a very specific way they like being touched and pleased, only sometimes do I like roughness with them. Once I'm where he wants me, he locks cuffs to each limb and fastens me down so that I'm completely vulnerable for whatever he wants. He reaches for things he has under his bed and as he pulls each thing out, I put it together that he has a sex machine hidden under there, and he's now setting it up.

Using a little lube mixed with my natural wetness, he slowly fills my pussy with a thick and soft silicone dildo. The softness allows the dildo to better form to the way my pussy is shaped, so I get a more intense pounding of my life. He then grabs a remote and flicks some buttons, his big TV wakes up to play intense porn right in front of me. The speakers playing loudly those in the throes of passion on screen, surrounding my senses in erotica before putting a blindfold over my eyes to focus my sense of touch. He knows me well.

As he starts up the machine, his skilled mouth and fingers join in to orchestrate a symphony of torture, lavishing attention on my clit and nipples while pounding out my cunt with an expertise that borders on sadism. As the machine thrusts into me, over and over again, he positions himself to maximize the tease even more with his rigid cock bobbing and sliding against my skin as he plays, frustrating me with denial. It's offensive to me, to have such a hard and needy cock close by and not being allowed to cater to it. There's no one touching and pleasing it, it's just free roaming dick touching all over my soon becoming overly stimulated body.

My mind is becoming consumed by the twisted desires that haunt me. The feeling of his rigid cock pressed against me, a constant reminder of the brutal pleasure that awaits, sends shivers down my spine. The air is thick with the sounds of debauchery, the moans and screams of those on screen fueling my own depraved longing. His touch is a masterful manipulation, expertly weaving a web of dark desire that threatens to consume me whole. And then, it happens - the dam breaks, and I'm engulfed by a maelstrom of ecstasy, my body rocked by the sheer force of my own release. It's a collision of pleasure and pain, a head-on crash of sensations that leaves me gasping, my senses reel from the impact.

Arching my back, I cry out in bliss, but he never stops, he doesn't even slow down. Instead, he shifts his fingers ever so slightly, hitting the same spot but with another angle, so the orgasm builds off the first one, but even faster. He repeats this over and over in a pattern I recognize. He's reaching that magical setting I have where if he knows the right rhythm and order, he can make it so my cunt is so super needy and reactive, it can't stop orgasming as he keeps playing. Like a wave pool it lingers before it dies down again. Sending me to the clouds every few minutes, anything and everything setting me off with how sensitive he makes me. I shouldn't have written that story where I used that truth about myself to make the scene hotter, because he read it and knew to believe it.

Once he has me acting like a real sexual demon, my pussy on autopilot of high need and constant orgasms, he then pulls back and denies me until I give what he seeks.

"What's wrong, princess? Does your pussy need a release? Too wound up?" He teases me, knowingly. I nod, too consumed in my needs to have words,

"Submit to me, and I'll take good care of you, baby girl. That's all I ask. Be mine." He purrs. I look to his cock, silently pleading with him that I need it so bad. "You can have that too, when you reward me with your submission, now let go of the control and let yourself fly free." He answers.

I take a breath and nod, agreeing with a dramatic last plea in my eyes for what I need right now.

"Then address me properly, princess." He orders.

I clear my throat, "Yes.... Daddy. Please take control and fuck me pretty."

To me, fucking me pretty means to fully give in, fuck me with full emotion, full connection, don't play a role, be the role and completely immerse with me, make our passion pretty with truth in how it feels. I'm weird, I know it, and he likes it.

He does what I ask, he fucks us both pretty, our combined passion for one another, our acceptance and desire for one another's bodies, minds, spirits, hearts... he slides his cock in deep, wraps his arms around me tight, after undoing my bindings and pumps his hips so hard and so fast that his cock slams and fills me so much I'm cumming solid for a while. His dick getting the squeeze of its life, and my cunt chugging him down like a thirsty man in the dessert who found some water.

His body is so tense, but he fucks me through so many orgasms without letting himself cum once, though I can tell he's getting so close.

"Oh fuck, I can't hold back anymore, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, where do you want it baby?" He asks me.

I love making him cum, I love watching it explode from him, it turns me on so hard seeing a man unravel like that, but I love feeling him explode inside me even more. I hate when past partners would pull out as if the orgasm itself was some kind of guillotine of pleasure, cut off the moment the blade crashes. It's such a dramatic loss and leave me feeling so empty, my love of feeling full is sometimes strong, like now...

"Fill me up, Daddy, I wanna feel you leaking down my thigh when I walk."

Feeling him leak back down my thighs, sends little warm reminders of how he fucked me long and hard, how he claimed me for himself and earned my respect for the power exchange we grow from here, and how he has fully earned my submission because he earned my trust, he kept every one of his promises as a Dominant and as the lover of my body and soul. Like a memory being cemented to my body his cum dripping down makes me crave him even more, my desire for him is now so much stronger for the next time I see him, when I hope he gives me another lesson in how much control he can handle.