The Trip 63

It's well into summer and the weather has been spectacular. The girl is well into her journey around the island by kayak. She's been travelling this way for 2 weeks and is in the final stretches of completing the circle. Her time has been one of escape, excitement and learning. Each night a new place to sleep, whether it be a remote beach with her little campfire, or one of the remote cabins on this desolate place in the world. She has met new people along the way and has been welcomed wherever she's landed. The sound of the waves hitting the rocky shore is soothing, the gentle rocking of the small kayak a constant reminder of where she is.

It's late in the day and almost time to set up camp. Just one more point to go around and she'll pull up on the beach. As she rounds the point, she sees a little cabin, floating in a small bay. Smoke rises from the chimney. She slowly paddles her way towards it, hoping she'll meet yet another friendly person. As she bumps up against the dock, the cabin door creaks open and there... there is... wow, her heart flutters. There is a man that has taken her breath away. He leans against the door jam, studying her. His eyes glancing over her. He smiles, gives a wave and welcomes her. Is it his face, his body or just an aura about him? Maybe she's just been too long on the water, but her stomach fills with butterflies as she exits her kayak and walks over to meet him. He stands there with a smirk on his face, almost as if he knows what she is thinking, what her deepest thoughts are. He grabs her backpack and motions her into the small cabin, closing the door behind them.

It's dim inside, but as her eyes adjust she sees a nicely laid out room, a small couch and a chair are facing the small fireplace. The kitchen is also there, with a small table and two chairs. The dishes are neatly drying on the counter and the smell of a fresh meal still fills the space. A short hallway exits the room, leading to a couple of doors. As she explores the room with her eyes, he guides her to the chair and urges her to sit. He asks if she's hungry and she responds with a yes, the only word she can say without stammering, feeling flustered at the way she feels. It's almost childish, disturbing that just laying eyes on this man can affect her so. He wanders to the kitchen and prepares her a sandwich, carefully laid out on a plate with some vegetables and a glass of water. He informs her the vegetables are grown here, freshly harvested. The sandwich is delicious as she slowly bites into it. He sits across from her, legs curled up under him on the small couch. The fire crackles lightly and spreads a warm glow in the room. The only other light comes from the sun, now setting, through a small window. The room is warm, the day has been long and she starts to feel it catching up to her. Her eyes begin to shut, but she forces them open. He still stares at her, that little smile still touches the edge of his mouth. He stands, takes her empty plate and tells her to follow him.

He once again grabs her pack and walks towards the small hallway. He motions to one door and mentions this is the washroom. The door at the end of the hallway opens into a bedroom. A wood framed bed fills a large portion of the room. White linens are impeccably wrapped around a deep mattress. Four posts rise from each corner, almost touching the ceiling and forming an ornate wooden canopy. He strikes a match and lights a candle resting on a small table beside the bed. The candle sputters, then the flame catches, throwing a warm yellow glow over the start white linen. He tells her that she can have the room for the night, he will sleep on the couch. Protesting that it isn't right, he looks at her and presses a finger to her lips. "Ssh, don't argue, do as you are told."

Her legs feel like they are shaking as he pulls the finger away, his eyes piercing into her's and he turns and leaves the room. She can still feel where he touched her, a warmth begins to grow within her, touching her in the most intimate of places.

She undresses, pealing off the day's clothes. She pulls on a long shirt, grabs her toiletries and heads to the bathroom. He is preparing the couch with blankets, dressed in boxers and a t-shirt. She stares for a moment, as he moves gracefully around the room, illuminated by only the dim fire. Her heart skips a little and her breath quickens. He stops and turns, catching her watching him. He smiles, pulls his shirt over his head, showing his back and broad shoulders to her. He then lays on the couch and pulls the blanket over him. She turns away, embarrassed and heads to the washroom. When she finishes, she returns to the bedroom, hearing his breathing, heavier, probably sleeping. She closes the door, blows out the candles and climbs into the soft bed. The linen is heavy, comfy and warm. They envelope her, caressing her body as she settles. Her hand brushes against her breast, rubbing her nipple. Slowly, feeling the sensation build within her. Her nipple hardens and she moves to the other side. Her thoughts drift to his image, the feeling she felt when she first saw him. Her nipples hard now, her breathing shallow and quick, she reaches further down, her fingers softly moving over her pale skin. Lower her hand drifts, finally reaching the elastic of her panties, sliding gently under and feeling the soft down of the hair down their. It's longer than she likes to keep it, but after 2 weeks roughing it, what's a girl to do? Further, her fingers reach the edge of her womanly treasure, further, wetness and her fingers drift inside. A moan escapes from her lips as she pleasures herself. Faster her fingers go, moving deeper inside as she moves herself towards a climax. Closer now, she visions him taking her, penetrating her.

What's that? A noise from the edge of the room. She opens her eyes and in the dimness sees a silhouette shadowed in the doorway. She stops, holds her breath. Its him, she's woken him up. She laughs and tells her not to stop. She pulls the blankets up, to her neck. She apologizes for waking him.

He moves closer to the bed. "I said, don't stop!", the words are spoken in a commanding voice. She shudders. What is happening here. He pulls the blankets from her, moving his hand over hers, the one still lingering between he legs. His fingers mimic hers and start moving her hand, pushing her fingers back towards her pleasure. Her mind races, confused, excited, scared, stimulated. Her body is responding again and he removes his hand, leaving hers there. He tells her again to continue. She closes her eyes as again the passion is building. Another noise and the darkness is broken by a candle being lit. He sets in on the table, his eyes still on her. Her fingers are moving faster again and he sits on the edge of the bed, low on her body, watching her masturbate. Her breathing fast now, little moans continue to escape from her lips as she is close now, so close. Her body arches, her climax about to begin, almost... his hand reaches out, grabs hers and pulls it away, stopping the pleasure, stopping her orgasm. Her eyes open in shock, her body aching in despair. "not now, you'll cum when I tell you."

She cries out in frustration and pulls her hand from his. He growls and shifts his body. He is on top of her now, pinning her beneath him, his hands holding her to the bed. "You will behave, you will do as I tell you, when I tell you!" "I saw how you looked at me, saw the desire in your eyes. I know you want me, want to be satisfied, don't you?" Unable to speak, she nods yes, ashamed.

"I am going to give you want you want, on my terms. You will listen to me, never question me. If you cannot live with this, pack now and leave." She knows that this is wrong, knows she should leave, but two weeks, two long weeks since she left her place, her toys, her desires. None of the people she met on this trip gave her this thrill. She nods again and he releases her hands. He reaches down, puts his hand under her panties and tears, tears them off of her. "Hmm, hairy, not good." Shifting again, he pulls her shirt over her head. She struggles a little in protest. He grabs her torn panties and forces them into her mouth. "Time for you to be quiet." She looks at him, eyes wide, her smell and taste lingering in her mouth, in her nose. He rolls off the bed and reaches to the floor. He grabs an arm and pulls it towards one of the bed posts. She feels something around her wrist and before she knows it, her arm is secured to the post. He quickly grabs the other hand and repeats the process. There she lays, on the bed, naked in front of this stranger, tied to the bed. She crosses her legs to hide herself. He notices and chuckles. He grabs her leg and pulls, hard. She struggles, but being tied she doesn't have any leverage. Her leg is now tied to the lower bed post. Shortly after, her other leg too is constrained. Spread eagle, she shivers slightly. She's moist, nervous but is anticipating. The feeling she had moments ago while she was in her bed, alone is returning. That warm feeling.

He leaves the room and she hears him moving about in the cabin. Shortly, he returns. A bowl and towel in hand. Confused, she looks at him questioningly, unable to speak with her mouth still gagged. He puts the items down and dips the towel into the bowl. Water, warm, as he rubs the towel over her hair, between her legs, up, approaching her belly button. Once he is satisfied, he reaches down again and applies shaving cream to her. He carefully covers her hair, leading down, around her special place, lower, around her bum. He looks at her "Don't move, we don't want this to cut" and grins. Slowly he shaves the hair higher, at her panty line. Then, lower, carefully, slowly, making sure he has done a good job. Lower still, the outside of her lips, lower, around that other place. She is trembling at his touch. Very wet now, not from the water he used, but from within herself. She can tell that she is bald, no hair remains down there as he checks, running his hand over her smoothness. He wipes her with the towel, cleaning up the remaining shaving cream. His finger boldly touching her, entering her, almost rough. His finger now moist, runs lower, circles the little bud below, pushing gently into he forbidden place. Harder he pushes as her muscles fight the intrusion. Then, his finger slides in, breaking the resistance. "Hmm, this needs some attention." He leaves the room, taking the bowl and towel out.

He returns in a few minutes, a cloth bag in his hand. She watches, still nervous, bare. Her legs still spread wide on the bed, her nipples hard with excitement and the coolness of the room. Reaching into the bag, he pulls out a tube. He opens the top and squeezes something onto his fingers. His hand returns between her legs and pushes lower, back to where his finger just left. She squirms, not wanting to accept the intrusion. The substance on his finger is cold, wet, slippery. He rubs it around her again, pushing gently, then harder. One finger, two, he rubs the liquid in. Her muscles contract, expand. Her breathing quickens. How can her body feel this way? It's wrong, this isn't a place for pleasure. Then, he pushes hard. She opens to him and his fingers slide deeply into her. She moans through the panties in her mouth, she pushes onto his fingers, urging him to push deeper, harder. "That's more like it, but still, you aren't ready." Reaching back into the bag, he pulls out another object. It's plastic, cone shaped and about 6 inches long. He waves it in front of her eyes. It is narrow at the base, widens, then narrows again quickly with a wide base at the bottom. "This is to help you, prepare you for what will come later. It may hurt, but I think that it won't. You are too hungry for my fingers, your body will awaken to the pleasure it will give. You will sleep for a while when I am finished here. I need you well rested, prepared for what is about to come." With that, he moves her legs a little wider and she feels the cold tip of the object pressing against her. He pushes a little harder and the tip moves inside of her, opening her. Further, her ass opens wider, further, almost pain now, but pleasure too. Wider still, then her muscles collapse around it, pulling it inside of her. It stops when the bottom rests against her skin. It fills her, cold, hard, wide and strange. She feels pleasure, shame, full.

He gently pulls the blanket over her naked body. "You'll stay tied and sleep like this. Don't push the toy out or you will be punished. You'll also need to get used to it, it will get worse tomorrow as I train you. Sleep now." He tucks the blanket tightly against her, grabs the bag he brought in, blows out the candle and shuts the door, leaving her in darkness. Then, the door opens again. "I almost forgot..." He reaches towards her face and pulls her now wet panties from her mouth. He turns and leaves again.

She lays there, thinking about her predicament. She is tied to a stranger's bed, naked, shaved and an object violating her. There is nowhere to go, no one to call. She shifts her legs slightly and is reminded of the toy inside of her. It feels securely lodged in and is making her feel little shock waves, directly to her womanhood. She knows she is wet, not moist. She can tell, is frustrated, but can do nothing. Resigning herself to the fact there is nothing she can do; she drifts slowly off to sleep.

When she awakes, light is streaming in through the window. She rolls over. Wait, her hands and legs are free. Was it a dream, the strange events that she had in the night? Did it really happen? Her aching bladder stops any other thinking and she rolls out of bed, sitting up and her feet hit the floor. Suddenly, a shock washes itself through her body. The shock of something in her moving. It's the object he put in her, pushing into her as she sits. It did happen then, the events of last night. She tiptoes to the door and slowly opens it. She hears faint snoring from the couch. She makes her way quietly to the bathroom and relieves herself. The object is becoming uncomfortable. Reaching behind her, she pulls on it. It slides out easily, with no pain, but leaves a void of feeling inside of her. Well, this must go she thinks to herself. She wraps it in some toilet paper and returns to her room. It is still early and she is tired, mentally and physically. She pulls the blankets over her and again drifts off into sleep.

Smack. She awakens with a scream. Smack. Something has hit her, hard across the backside. She tries to turn to see, but her hands and legs are bound again, this time she is on her stomach. "I told you not to take it out!" His voice, controlling, breaks the silence of the morning. He is right beside her, she can feel his breath on her ear. Smack. He spanks her again, a hotness starts on her skin, her cheeks turning a rosy red. "I can see that you still do not understand who is in charge. I will punish you when I must. This is a warning, do not disobey me again." She whimpers agreement, still stinging from his hand, unsure if agreeing to stay was the best idea. He rises from her side and she hears him rustling around. "This will help you later." As he says these words, she feels the familiar sensation of an object pressing against her ass. Like the night before, the object is wet and her sphincter opens, easily. Further it enters her, not hurting. She waits for the relief she knows will come when the largest part enters her. It doesn't come. It is filling her more, stretching her more than last night. "Ssh, almost there" he whispers in her ear. With one more push, the plug almost plops inside of her, filling her in a way she has never felt. She is tingling, her pussy moistening and he knows it. Reaching under her, his fingers brush her most intimate place, parting her lips, he feels her wetness. 2, 3 fingers press inside of her. She moans, loud, craving for release. She pushes as best as she can against him, riding his fingers. Faster he goes and his other hand reaches down, joining the first. Then it's gone, the first still working magic on her aching desire. Closer she gets to her orgasm. He doesn't stop. Suddenly, his hand, the second one, is pressing against her lips. Faster he strokes her as his other fingers enter her mouth. Wet from her juices, he slides his finger between her lips and she tastes herself. She smells the muskiness that is her. "Cum" he whispers in her ear and her body obeys. Her orgasm, taken from her the night before rolls through her body. Her muscles pull his fingers further into her, the contractions lower in her wrap around the toy, pulsating, feeling the penetration. His fingers slowly pull from her, she jumps a little from the sensitivity of her orgasm, her small muscles contracting, enjoying the moment. "Lick" his hand is in front of her, glistening in the morning light with her juices. She must of been very wet as his fingers are covered. She has never tasted her juices, unaware of her flavour until last night when her panties were forced into her mouth. She opens her mouth and slowly takes a finger into her, her lips sucking. She savours the taste, strange yet erotic. When she finishes, her head collapses into her pillow. He rises and begins to walk away. "Breakfast soon, rest now."

She lays there while listening to sounds from the other room. Soon the scent of bacon fills the cabin. Her stomach growls, protesting its hunger. He returns and releases her arms and legs. Holding out a hand he helps her sit. He rubs her wrists and ankles, helping the circulation. The object, obviously bigger than the night before presses further into her with her weight sitting on it. It is almost uncomfortable. She squirms and he chuckles, knowing what is happening. He reaches out again to help her stand. She trembles as she walks with him, the pleasure of her release still warming her. He leads her to the table and helps her sit. The wooden chair is cold on her bum, but the room is warm from the fire. The hardness of the chair pushes the plug deep into her, the sensation different now, more annoying than pleasurable. He sits across from her, setting two plates on the table. Slowly they eat. She feels awkward, being naked in front of this man. Trying to suppress those thoughts, she concentrates on him. She notices a small scar on his chin, his lips. His hair, messy in the morning drops over one eye slightly, giving him a boyish look. After they finish, he clears the table. She watches as he moves efficiently around the kitchen, cleaning and putting things away.

He turns to her again, holds his hand out. She reaches out and he helps her stand. He guides her towards the front door, they walk, her behind him, he pulling gently at her hand. He opens the door and the room is filled with sunlight. He continues through the door. She pulls back, hesitating. She is still naked, what if someone comes. He pulls harder yet she still resists. He pulls again, forcing her outside. There is a bench beside the door and he sits on it. He turns her and pulls her down to him, stomach over his knees. Before she knows it, smack. His hand strikes her bum again. The tenderness from this morning still there. Smack. "I told you." Smack, again his can descends. A strange sensation fills her. The pain isn't that bad, almost bordering on pleasure. He motions that she stand and he follows. Guiding her around the corner, they stop in front of a small outdoor shower. He starts the water running. She looks around. The shower is in full view of the water in front of the cabin and the shore. She is nervous. Although remote, the thought of someone catching her naked frightens her. "Undress me" he commands, breaking the silence and interrupting her thoughts.

She catches her breath, looks at him and in understanding, does as she is told. She unbuttons his shirt, revealing his broad chest beneath the shirt. She slides it down his arms and drops it on the wharf at their feet. Shyly now, she struggles with his belt, unclasping the buckle and pulling the belt through. Next, her fingers fumble with the button and zipper of his jeans. Once open, she slides them down his legs, his underwear still hanging on his hips. She slides them down too, revealing his manhood, semi erect in the morning air. Her steps out of the clothes and she pushes them aside.