Previous stories in this series: Off-Road Goddess, Paddled in the Boondocks, Lunch With A Dominatrix, A Painful Test.
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Pulling into the parking lot of my apartment complex one weekend afternoon, I saw my friend Mike unloading a set of new wheels from the back of his small 4x4 pickup. Oversize heavy lugged tires mounted on plain black painted steel rims. He was rolling them one at a time to the side door of his building, which led to the laundry room and storage bins.
"Looks like you bought a set of play tires," I said, walking up to him. Play tires. A term that Miss Julia used to describe wheels like these that she put on her Jeep when driving off-road. Mike considered her to be a psycho bitch so I was not surprised when his response was only half a smile and a grunt as he hefted one wheel down the short flight of stairs to the side door. I grabbed another wheel and followed him inside where I saw that Mike had a lot more work ahead of him. I would have had the sense to clear some space in my storage bin before bringing home four massive wheels.
Before I left him to his task, he invited me to go four-wheeling and camping with him and some of his friends next weekend. I had to assume that Miss Julia would be there and we had not parted on the best of terms. Perhaps I should have taken some time to make my decision but thinking that other people would be around, the worst thing that could happen would be that she would give me the cold shoulder treatment or possibly some insulting remarks. I could handle that, so I accepted his invitation.
As the following week wore on, I began to get nervous about facing Miss Julia. We had originally met on one of these four-wheeling trips. A beautiful and strong willed brunette, several years older than I. When I learned she liked to dominate her boyfriends, I confessed to her that having a female domination session had always been a fantasy of mine.
She was more than happy to let me worship the rubber boots that she wore, and then she whipped my bare ass with her belt. Ever since then she preferred that I address her as Miss Julia and it was difficult now for me to think of her as just Julia.
We got together several times after that for domination sessions, and then dated seriously for almost two months. I had been the one to terminate our relationship just as it was really starting to evolve.
Having been invited to a shack on a horse farm where she lived for free in exchange for doing odd jobs, she had given me a savage beating with a riding crop. Miss Julia claimed it was a test to prove if I was worthy of being her boyfriend, being able to withstand such a punishment which might be necessary in the future. While I had endured the pain as best I could, she told me that I had failed the test.
I was then forced to worship her asshole until she had a powerful orgasm. It had been extremely arousing at time, though afterwards I felt degraded as she made it clear that licking her asshole might be the only use that she would have for me in her bedroom. Then she kicked me out the door, saying that she would call me later to schedule another test.
Several weeks passed without hearing from Miss Julia, and over those days I thought a lot about the times she and I had spent together. There were dinners and other activities that a dating couple would do, but also paddling and whippings that she had administered with enthusiasm. She was clearly a lifestyle dominatrix and had used my female domination fantasies, my fetishes for sexy boots, high heels, and of course her beauty, to lure me under her control. Miss Julia had taken me further than I had imagined beyond my limits of pain, submission, and obedience.
She had taken me to a world where she ruled and even if I wasn't at her feet all the time, I was still under her command. Had I been her boyfriend, while I would have been free to make my own decisions, she would always have the final say. To disobey her would result in a harsh punishment, which she would be all too happy to administer to reinforce her position of authority. I had not been willing to enter into such a relationship and so I began dating someone else, although in the end that did not work out either.
The four-wheeling trip with Mike and his friends followed pretty much the same plan as the first one that I went on. We left the apartment complex early on a Saturday morning and met at a remote outpost of a convenient store gas station, located near a national forest. I'd helped Mike put his new tires on his truck the night before, and they were noisy on the pavement. The ride was bouncy and seemed unstable. Having to restrain his lead foot, we arrived a bit late.
Dave, a burly redneck dude, and his chunky girlfriend Sue were already there, standing beside a different Jeep than I had seen last time. This one was a modified rust bucket that had at one time been painted a dark green, fitted with monster tires that I doubted were street legal. Miss Julia's yellow Jeep was there, sporting her play tires, and she was chatting casually with them while attracting admiring stares from a young man over by the gas pumps. After we pulled up, Dave immediately started checking out Mike's new tires.
"Hello, Eric," Miss Julia said to me, turning her nose up slightly. She was wearing her black rubber riding boots as I had expected, and they looked freshly cleaned with a low shine. Her fine ass was molded into a pair of Daisy Dukes that seemed higher cut than normal, and her raven dark wavy hair spilled over the shoulders of a well worn red plaid flannel shirt that had the sleeves cut off and was unbuttoned enough to recklessly display her cleavage. It made sense that she had gotten word that I would be coming along and had purposely dressed to tease me as a subtle form of revenge.
I caught a faint trace of perfume as she strutted coldly past me, then bent over to inspect Mike's tires, purposefully tilting her ass so it would be provocatively displayed for me. She only looked at the new wheels for a moment and then taunted Mike, saying he would only dig himself into more trouble and need both her and Dave to pull him out.
After some discussion it was decided to start with the route we took on the last trip. While Dave considered that to normally be easy driving, there had been some heavy rains in the area over the last few days so conditions were going to be muddy and more difficult. Assuming Mike's tires worked well enough, we would use a fire access road to get to a more challenging area.
Conditions on the trail were indeed muddy. We had to stop early because Mike's windshield was completely smeared with mud and he hadn't thought to fill the washer fluid reservoir before the trip.
While the others watched him attempt to clean the glass with a rag, I found an empty two liter soda bottle off in the brush. After I filled it with water from a ditch, I told Mike to pop the hood so I could pour it in his washer fluid tank. Though Miss Julia was cool, aloof, and silent during this whole stop, I thought I caught a glimpse of a small grin on her face, as if she were somehow pleased that I had been resourceful enough to solve the problem.
Once back on the trail she led our procession at a responsible pace. Dave seemed to be held back, purposely spinning his tires and fishtailing around in any shallow mud available. Splattered and bringing up the rear, I was glad I had thought to top off the bottle of water before we got moving again as Mike was often squirting down his windshield and the reservoir would probably have to be refilled later.
His new tires seemed to make a big difference and we made good progress. After a short while we took the fire road to a more difficult trail. Here, Mike's success and resulting cockiness were his undoing at a long deeply rutted twisting section that was known locally as the gauntlet.
Miss Julia had barely made it through and Dave left a wallowed mess that left us stuck halfway in. It was a lot of work getting him out, using the winch on Miss Julia's Jeep, as well as some heavy chains and a come-along that Dave had.
We all took a short rest after that. I was relieving myself behind a tree when suddenly Dave and Sue drove off. To my surprise, Mike started up his truck and followed after them without me. Walking back to the muddy trail, Miss Julia was already behind the wheel of her Jeep, the engine idling softly. The window was down on the passenger side and she called out,
"You're riding with me." It was an order, not an invitation, and as the sound of the other vehicles faded off down the trail, I knew I had no choice but to obey.
I had ridden in her Jeep a number of times before, but never off-road. The stereo was turned off and I saw the stubby shifter for the transfer case was engaged in four wheel drive. I had to roll up my window as she seemed to purposely brush the sides of trees so that small branches would whip and snap inside and close to my face. Her tall boots were coated with a film of drying mud, but otherwise she managed to remain clean. Staying in second gear, we lagged further and further behind the others, and I assumed that was intentional.
While her demeanor was calm and collected, her silence was deafening over the sound of tires splashing through the shallow muddy ruts and the low rumble of the engine. Paranoia began to set in as I realized that Mike had seen me with Sandra in the parking lot of our apartment complex. She was the young lady I had dated after breaking things off with Miss Julia.
It was entirely possible that Miss Julia had contacted Mike and asked him if I was dating anyone. He would have ratted me out for certain. While I consider him to be a good friend, I know that he is intimidated by Miss Julia and would be a willing stool pigeon for her. No doubt she had ordered him to drive off without me, and he probably complied without any question. For all I knew, this whole trip could have been planned by Miss Julia as an opportunity for us to be together.
At a curve in the trail she slowed and downshifted into first gear. Barely crawling along now, she seemed to be looking for something on her side of the trail. I briefly saw the slight parting in the brush which looked like an overgrown footpath before Miss Julia turned the steering wheel hard, stomped on the gas, and blasted into the woods. We were on an overgrown road and it only went a short distance before ending at a small clearing. Miss Julia shut off the engine, ratcheted the parking brake lever, and opened her door.
"Let's get out and talk," she said in a low menacing voice.
The ground here was soft and muddy. A crippled picnic table was off to one side and rusty remains of fire ring, now filled with weed growth, which told me that this was a back country campsite that saw little use. I walked around to the front of the Jeep and faced Miss Julia, who was standing with her hands on her hips and had a dark scowl on her face.
"About a month ago I called your office and you didn't answer your phone. I called later in the day, the main number this time, your receptionist said you were in and transferred my call. Still, I got your voice mail. That time I left a message for you. What was that message?" Miss Julia asked in a cold voice.
"You said something like I had four hours to call you back, Miss Julia," I weakly replied.
