For Hannah
The car hit a bump in the road and James heard a loud *thump* come from the trunk, which made him smile. He'd missed this - getting out into the woods, enjoying nature, having a little fun. It was just what he needed after another long day at the rat race. There were going to be a lot more bumps coming up as the road petered out from gravel to dirt and ruts, but he knew that road well enough to dodge at least a few of them.
Twenty minutes later James arrived at the cabin - a refuge that had been in his family for generations. He got out of his sensible sedan and inhaled deeply. "Ahh, the air is just cleaner here, you know?" he said to no one in particular, and whistled a few notes in a short off-the-cuff tune as he walked up to the front door and unlocked it. He did his usual inspection of the place, making sure there was no rain rot or other weather damage, checking the supports and braces for the home. It didn't take long, the cabin was rather small, but he took his time to make sure it was done properly. He tugged on the final rope in his checklist and felt a satisfying reassuring strength to it. He glanced down at his watch - six thirty, and at this time of the year it was darkening quickly. He stood and rolled up the sleeves on his new shirt revealing just the ends of his half-sleeve tattooed biceps. He found one of the million stickers new clothes come with that had stowed away and absentmindedly flicked it into the trash can. Mentally he was going over his list, checking and rechecking that everything was in its proper place and ready. He decided better about it and moved all the cutlery in the cabin into the gun cabinet near the fireplace, which he locked securely, and placed the stepstool near the back door, which he unlatched but left as close to closed as possible.
Darkening had turned to darkened when he finally made his way back out to his car. He popped the trunk and there she was, Susan, glaring up at him with wild and manic energy in her steely gray-blue eyes. Her mouth was taped shut and she was bound with strong ropes, her hands and feet hogtied together behind her back with a few loops around her chest for support and to emphasize her cleavage. She was dressed in a much more practical outfit than he, one of her dark gray tank tops and a pair of acid washed jeans. She had clearly been planning for this back at their home. As James gave her a once over, much the same way as he had inspected the cabin, he found a few bruises and a bump under her tangle of now-unkempt red hair. He reminded her that she was free to tap out any time she wanted and he could swear she tried to spit on him through the tape. Perfect.
James hoisted Susan up onto his shoulder with the same effort as one might lift a bag of dog food, closed the trunk with one hand, and carried her inside. She thrashed around a bit while he carried her but stilled herself when they came to the door to avoid hitting her already sore head. "Fierce and practical" he thought to himself, feeling a love for her tugging at his heart.
He walked her into the bedroom and unceremoniously flopped her onto the bed. He took a moment to crack his back and square his shoulders, rubbing his jaw from where she'd sucker punched him earlier. He may outclass her in raw strength but she had a burning inner fire that made her no slouch. And a hell of a right hook. He turned her onto her stomach and grabbed the ropes binding her. This was the riskiest part of the whole process. Carefully he untied her wrists and ankles and slowly slid the rope completely off of her, which he spooled into a loop as she rubbed her hands and wrists. He hooked the rope through one of his back belt loops and for a moment he worried he'd gone too far with the trunk when his vision tilted unexpectedly backwards as the wind knocked out of him.
Susan retracted her leg from kicking James in the gut and would have smiled were it not for the tape. "Should have been more careful" she thought to herself before leaping over him and off the bed, striding confidently toward the front door with a mocking sway in her hips that she knew would drive him wild when he finally saw it. He loved those jeans, and the quarter-bouncing ass in them, more than most people love their family. He was going to have to come take it by force if he wanted it, too. The thought tickled and tingled her before she glanced over her shoulder, red curls sweeping out of the way, to see how well he'd recovered.
If she'd expected him to be doubled over and wheezing she was about to be roughly disappointed; rough being the operative word. He was two feet behind her and already crouching to pounce into a tackle when she looked and she stumbled a little in surprise before he took her to the ground. Her back was pressed into the hardwood floor as he pinned her legs beneath him by sitting on her thighs but she still had her hands, which she balled into fists and began swinging into his head. The first swing met with a satisfying heft and must have caught him slightly unaware as it whipped his head sideways for half a second. She almost felt a moment of guilt herself before she instead felt his right hand close around her neck and his left slide behind her back and grasp her right upper arm, leaving her nothing but a painful arch in her back and her head free. She regretted having cockily left the tape on as she wanted to bite him with all of her strength. She let out a howl behind her mostly closed mouth - not in pain but in frustration at not being able to more easily fight back.
He stood and pulled her up with him, keeping his grip firm while deftly turning her around to press her back against him. Keeping her pulled in close made it so she couldn't easily swing a leg back into his ankles, a lesson he had learned the hard way. Feeling her apple-ass rub against his cock as she turned nearly sent him into a frenzy, which would have been a mistake that would cost precious time. Instead he took a moment to enjoy the sensation, slipping fully between her cheeks and gently rubbing up and down. Susan noticed the movement and arched her rear up slightly to meet him and compliment his slow and insistant rubbing.
The thought and feeling of what she did to him flowed through her mind and stiffened her nipples against the textured fabric of her tank top. She was on her toes now, rubbing against him, knowing that he would claim her soon once again and anticipating every second of it. Time dragged on for a heavenly eternity in this pleasure but in less than an instant it was over, and he was leading her through the back of the cabin. They passed by the bedroom, and she glanced around with a slight tinge of anxiety - where was he taking her? He used her body to unceremoniously push open the back door, which he had apparently left unlatched for just such an occasion, and down to the woodshed. Even here, in the wilderness miles from anyone else and still almost fully clothed she felt naked and exposed. Whatever he was leading her toward was something new to their games.
James rounded the corner of the shed with Susan marching in hesitant steps in front. He released his hold around her throat and coarsely shoved her whole body up against the wall of the shed. He used his hand to roughly pull her hair to one side, exposing her neck, which he bit into ferociously. He loved the feeling of her quickening pulse under his teeth and the confused micro-movements her head made as she tried to puzzle out his plan. He released his grip with his hand, but not his mouth, and reached to the rope dangling behind him that he'd quickly hooked through his belt loops earlier. With a practiced motion that comes only from doing something a thousand times he looped the rope through one of the two heavy steel rings he'd secured to the shed last weekend, twins to the ones in their bedroom at home, before pulling it down and tying her right wrist up tightly. He secured it back through the loop and then wound it across, over her head and through the other ring, coming down and encircling her left. Both hands fully secured he finally unlatched his jaw from her and inspected his work - deep teeth marks that may last a few days, possibly some bruising, no lasting harm, perfect. He then spent a few moments adjusting the ropes until she was just barely on her toes, nearly suspended by her restraints and stuck in a painful ballet pointe that would have made her cry out in pain had she not been made to take so many lessons as a child. Still, it wouldn't be long before it started to be hell on her calves.
He took a few steps back to admire his work and to see if she would be able to escape it. Susan struggled, testing each rope by pulling with her full strength and trying to squeeze her hands into as small of shapes as she could - no dice. For a moment she felt the panic and rage of a caged animal, and she was loving every second of it. "Clever bastard" she thought to herself, and loved him more than ever.
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James took a step back and gave himself a moment to admire his work, and Susan's perfect ass, forced up into the air and flexing as she tried to keep her balance. He was surprised she didn't take the tape off, but by no means was he going to remove it himself and risk losing a finger. Instead he rounded the dark corner and fumbled momentarily with the lock to the shed before it creaked open and the darkness within begrudgingly allowed him to pull the hanging light string. There was the duffle bag he'd placed there last weekend, as well as the lamp and extension cord. All according to plan. He hummed a little tune to himself as he bent to plug in the cord and collected everything up, pulled the string again with his teeth, and kicked the door shut behind him.
