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.
Rough hands gripped her wrists, yanking them behind her back, wide shoulders stopping her in mid-turn as a hand came up to clap over her mouth tight and hard. The sudden stop in movement made her lose her balance and she pitched forward. A knee pushed roughly between her legs, a foot shooting out to kick her legs apart; widening her stance and balancing her out. Her breath was ragged as she desperately tried to pull air through her nose into her lungs. She stilled as she felt hot breath on her neck, lips brushing her ear.
He spoke low against her skin, his voice sending a thrill of fear and excitement down her spine. "Good evening my little one. First things first, you will not speak until I give you permission. You may scream," he said with a deep chuckle, "but as I'm sure you know, you could scream all you wish and no one would ever hear you. Do you understand?"
She nodded, the tone of his voice, the command in it, the wicked smile she could hear in it causing her to spasm, her body beginning to thrum with lust, a tiny exhilarating edge of fear running under the need. "Good girl," he whispered, his lips teasing across her neck as she felt his fingers leave her wrists. She knew better than to move them and soon enough he was tightly binding them with rough loops of sturdy rope. With her arms immobile and his hands now free, they began to roam her body roughly, claiming her wherever he touched. His hands cupped her breasts tight through her clothing, her nipples already hard and aching through her bra as he pinched tightly, bringing her breath in ragged pants. His fingertips slid up her chest, gliding over her collarbone. Her breath picked up as his hand slid around her throat, his teeth nipping hard at her ear as he squeezed forcefully until her vision began to go fuzzy.
When his hand left her throat she was trembling, the imprint of his fingers still dark against her pale skin. His hands moved down her arms, fingers digging into her skin through her sleeves as they moved. His fingers almost seemed to be moving downwards, towards the hem of her skirt before they smoothed back up her sides, leaving her to whimper. His fingertips found the low neck of her shirt, brushing against the mounds of her breasts, his lips and teeth rasping against the side of her neck as he pressed his body hard against hers. He gripped the fabric tight, pulling hard as he tore her shirt down to her waist, jerking her body with the violent movement. She gasped as his hands dove under her bra, squeezing her full breast tightly; his nails digging into her skin as she bowed her body helplessly against him, a ragged moan bursting from her mouth. His other hand cupped her throbbing pussy through her skirt, the hand on her breast sliding to her shoulder. He pushed her upper body over, making her bend sharply at the waist. He kept her standing with his hands on her waist until she was somewhat steady. Then they began to slide down her hips until his fingers reached the hem of her denim skirt, tugging it roughly up over her hips.
He groaned appreciatively at the sight of her luscious round ass exposed for him, the tight green and white polka-dotted boy-short panties hugging her plump little pussy nicely. He brought one hand down sharply against her skin, her body jerking against him. His fingers slid over her skin, feeling the heat from his slap on the surface of all that softness before slipping down between her thighs. He could feel her, soaked through her panties, her breath catching as his fingertips slid achingly light over her.
