There was a mountain to climb. And we were going to climb it.
A short hike through the forest would bring us there, a striking granite cliff face—a little-known climber's gem in Bourgogne, France.
Mark and I had planned on reaching the summit by noon to enjoy the sight over Vieux Château and the countryside. But plans change...
Mark licked my pussy.
Gagged and restrained, with my knickers and climbers' rope, there was little I could do to stop him now. Not that I wanted him to desist. God no.
He had spread my cunt lips wide and slid his tongue repeatedly through my slit.
Mmmm, it felt so fucking good.
I waited—desperate—for him to suck my clit.
My feet were planted on wet earth, mud squeezing through my toes, my legs spread wide, straining, each ankle individually restrained with rope. So too were my arms, raised to my sides, bound taut. I was tied between two trees...naked...vulnerable...his to be used. The thrill of it was intoxicating.
Mark started fingering me. His free hand clutched my arse, nails digging into my skin. And God yes, now he cupped my clit with his mouth and sucked.
Jesus, what was he doing with is tongue?
My cunt gushed, an orgasm imminent. But shortly before I crested the peak, Mark withdrew. It was a deliberate denial.
You bastard!
He slapped my bottom, smiling mischievously.
I stood panting, my heart hammering inside my chest.
He removed his shirt, shorts, and pants. A little too muscular to be lithe, he nevertheless possessed a tall, fit body, and while he was on the slender side, his cock most certainly was not.
The sight of him in the forest—this aroused, dominant creature, walking up to me—had me transfixed. It wasn't just my body that he held captive. Happily indentured, I desired nothing more than to serve and please him.
Mark stepped up to me, his manhood pressing hard on my belly. He yanked my ponytail back, removed my knickers-gag, then shoved three fingers into my mouth. His other hand found and squeezed my right breast. It was sure to leave a bruise.
My mouth filled with saliva as he slowly pushed his fingers deeper, pushing my tongue flat. I nearly choked, but resisted the reflex, and I maintained eye contact as he stared down at me. He said no words, but he didn't need to.
Mark seemed satisfied when spit flowed down my chin. He withdrew his wet hand and then slapped my face once.
As the pleasant sting faded, he moved behind me, lost from sight...
I heard the district cracking of wood, and when he returned in view, he held two branches. Over the next minute, he stripped one of them, breaking off all its offshoots and leaves... making a switch.
Oh fuck.
Mark approached me and slid my kickers over my head, blindfolding me.
For a moment, nothing happened. And then I felt prickly leaves and offshoots softly scraping... up my leg, over my belly, tits, backside... over my whole body.
