It seemed like she had been driving all day, the afternoon sun's rays long since softened into evening. Hours and hours it had felt like, listening to the quiet hum of her tires against the pavement. Nervously she licked her lips as she glanced down at the single sheet of white paper resting against the center console. One single line of text sat in the exact center.
"Meet me in the mountains. You know the place."
She did know the place. It was her family's old hunting cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains. It had been empty for a long time, of people anyway. The old metal bunks still stood, the haphazard and mismatched living room set still sat arranged as it had been years ago, the strong wooden beams still held the roof sturdy after all this time. It was a picturesque little cabin, made for generations of hunters, but it was sparse on the inside, giving just enough comfort for a night before heading out into the snow at dawn. The fireplace in the common area was enormous, its massive chimney gracing the side of the cabin, probably the oldest part of the cabin left. There was no heating, barely any electricity, and best of all; she thought sarcastically, there was no running water inside the cabin.
So why meet there, she wondered. There were so many other places in the area, so many more comfortable and inviting places to spend a weekend together. She shivered a little to think about what had driven him to think of the old cabin, what he could have planned that a decent hotel room couldn't accomplish.
It was nearly dusk as she bounced her Jeep down the deeply rutted and washed out mountain path. Peering down she could barely see the cabin in the soft purple light. Why were there no lights shining through the windows? Had the electricity gone out, she thought, barely letting herself feel the tiny spurt of hope that there were more comfortable digs in the future? She crossed her fingers and prayed that she would find another note, this one directing her to a cozy inn just up the road. At least that would explain the empty parking lot in front of the cabin.
She parked on the gravel, letting the engine idle for a moment as she sat, staring at the dark cabin. It had always looked quaint and quiet before to her, no matter the hour of day. Today it felt faintly ominous, the nervous energy practically crackling in the open space between her tightly closed door and the front of the cabin. Was she projecting? Was she just nervous and excited at the new location? She bit her lip and ran her hands up and down her arms a few times before gripping the handle of the door. Throwing the door wide she hopped down from the driver's seat, the rubber soles of her flats hitting the stones. Goosebumps ran up her bare legs as she smoothed down the light blue denim skirt that had ridden up slightly from the long drive and her near constant fidgeting. In a moment of relief, she was glad she'd remembered to wear long sleeves. The mountain air was so much cooler near the top, even in the middle of August. The v-necked green thermal top she wore was snug and warm against her skin and showed just enough cleavage to be alluring.
Brushing her shoulder length reddish brown curls out of her face, she took a step towards the big wooden door. Again she hesitated for a moment. She had an idea of what was in store for her, which was the reason she had brought no luggage. She had one extra pair of clothes, a plain white t-shirt and worn blue jeans tucked in the storage compartment in the back of the Jeep for emergencies. She knew she'd most likely be spending the weekend in various stages of undress, wearing only what he put on her, if he decided to cover her at all. The though made her shiver in anticipation. What did he have thought up for her this time?
The "he" in question was her Master, her Dom, her Top, choose whatever word you wish. The enigma that he was, he'd captured her mind, her body, and she barely knew anything about him. What she did know was the way that with simply a word or a touch, he could own her completely. She felt low things in her body tighten at the memory of his deep voice, his body against hers, and his big fingers firm on her delicate pale skin; so easily bruised. She shuddered, her eyes closing as she remembered the feel of his hands raining down on her tender skin, leaving her shaking with passion, her full, round ass stinging and hot pink from his touch.
He always had this effect on her, and even just the memories of him at that. Heart racing, she walked down the little path to the big door with its weather-beaten, chipped blue paint and rusty knob. Fingers tentative on the handle, she turned it to the left, easing the bolt back as she pushed the door slowly inwards. Her eyes searched the dark as she stepped across the old wooden floor; she listened to her footsteps creak lightly as she strained to see in the faint light from the open doorway. Her brows came together; puzzled. It really looked like no one was here, but if he had wanted her somewhere else; he would have left a note in plain sight. Wouldn't he?
As the thought crossed her mind it was suddenly dark in the cabin, her breath catching in her throat as the door slammed shut, a scream building as she started to turn towards the now very solid doorway.
