The Light Between The Trees Ch 07

Author's note: Traumatised by being held hostage in the cafe siege, Chloe has chosen a new direction in her life. She gives up her steady boyfriend and stable job to seek out new thrills in risky encounters. Covalent has laid out his plans to make her disappear and Chloe finds herself spiraling deeper and deeper into his fantasy of total control.

The story contains themes of female submission, edge play and autassassinophilia. Discretion is advised: please check the story tags to see whether this a series you'll enjoy.]

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DEATHWISH

I become aware of sounds, little by little. I shift my body slightly, and then I feel it, the constriction around my neck. I try to surface, but it's like I'm being held down by someone vastly stronger than I am. My eyes flutter open and I have no idea where I am or how I got here.

Wooden roof, old rafters, laying on a hard surface, unable to move. Something tells me I should be panicking but I don't. My brain's still too foggy.

"Welcome back."

I follow the voice, focusing on Covenant's face hovering above me. He's holding something up for me to see, glinting silver in the late sun.

"I caught a fish."

"How long was I...?" I begin, but he presses a finger against my lips.

"That's a reprimand."

I frown at him, struggling to understand. Then the memory surfaces: I'm not permitted to speak without being asked a question. His hand settles on my bare tummy, and I become aware again that I'm tied naked to a table in a remote boathouse on the edge of the lake, a long way away from any other person.

"Now, since this is your first reprimand, I'll go easy on you. Do you recall why you need to be reprimanded?"

"Yes," I reply, remembering that I'm only allowed to answer questions, and those only with a yes or no.

"Good," he nods, "Now, a reprimand is designed to be unpleasant, but I'm going to give you a choice of where I slap you."

The fog of sleep clears immediately, as I recoil from him. I'm not going to let some guy hit me. Who the fuck does he think he is? I glare back at him, fuming.

"Something to say?"

"Yes."

"Is it your safeword?"

He's watching me carefully, waiting for me to process the implications. I'm being given the choice to use my safeword and end everything, or to accept physical punishment from the man standing over me. I've never been hit. I wouldn't ever stand to let someone do that to me. Sunflower: I just need to say it.

But, I don't, and I can't understand why. I know the answer I'm going to give will result in him slapping me, and that I will have consented to it. I'm not one of those twisted bitches from the videos who enjoys pain; no, I have way too much self-respect to let a man hit me for his thrills. But then why do I give him the answer he wants?

"No."

Covalent pauses for a moment, letting my answer hang in the air.

"It's such a strange thing, Raven. I can see you struggling with this, with just a single slap. But, you had no problem at all with kneeling down while I slid my knife into your mouth. I think it's because being slapped makes you feel humiliated, is that right?"

"Yes."

Covalent nods in sympathy and I think he's going to relent, but then he says, "So, where is it to be?"

My eyes widen. I had expected mercy for my first infraction of the rules, but the conversation has clearly moved on. The punishment is inevitable. He touches my cheek.

"Here?"

His hand shifts down to cup one of my modest breasts.

"Or here?"

I still don't answer him, fearful of the pain those two options would cause. I can't envisage being slapped across my breast, how much that would hurt.

"No to both? Want the third option?"

"Yes."

The hand alights on my hip, and I brace myself. I can't believe I'm doing this, surrendering to his punishment for something as trivial as speaking. His hand rises up and I tense my thigh for impact.

"Last chance to pick one of the other two. Want to change your mind?" he asks.

"No."

He moves quickly, delivering an open hand slap across my pussy lips, making me shriek. It's unbearable. I try to fold up, to defend my splayed crotch from further punishment, but he's tied me too tight.

"Fuck...."

"Was that another word, Raven?" he asks in an even tone, "That's one more reprimand. It means we need to go again."

I writhe and buck, but all it does is pull the noose tighter around my neck.

"Better lie still. You're going to strangle yourself."

I glare at him.

"Besides, it's wearing off now, isn't it? Why such a fuss over something that's finished?"

As if to answer his own question, his fingers begin to stroke my slit tenderly. After the slap, all my nerve endings are awake and it feels incredible to be touched down there. He parts me and before I realise it, he's bent down to my crotch to plant a tiny exhilarating kiss on my clit.

"Recovered?"

I stare at him, but he isn't giving anything away. Is he really going to administer another slap?

"Not answering is another reprimand, so that's still two outstanding now."

"No," I hiss, angrily.

I want to tell him to fuck off. I want to rage. I know that I don't like this, even as I feel his fingertip tracing its way up and down my slit in a casual, sensuous motion. How fucking dare he? But I'm bound too tightly, I can't even close my legs to defend myself. He has access to every part of my body.

"Do you want to select a different place?"

"Yes," I snap.

He nods, as if I've made a good argument.

"Did you give yourself to me for the weekend?"

I lock eyes with him. "Yes," I growl.

"Have you used your safeword?"

"No."

"You see, Raven, you placed yourself in this predicament. I gave you a choice, which I didn't need to, and you chose this."

The heel of his hand brushes against my labia, sending little spasms of pleasure through me, then he slaps again. The second slap is as hard as the first, making my pussy sting ferociously. I bite my tongue and screw my eyes closed, raising myself off the table as the shock rips through me. His hand is on my stomach, pressing down gently but insistently, until I make contact with the table again. My entire crotch is throbbing.

"You don't get to remake your choices. That's not how this works. One more to go."

I wait for the slap, but he's exploring me again, using his fingers to part me and brush against my inner lips. His fingertips track the reddened contours of my vulva, tracing over tormented nerve endings. Every touch is magnified, sending shudders through me. The tips of his forefinger nestles into my entrance, his thumb pressing back my clitoral hood to expose my engorging nub. The finger slides into me easily, slickened by my juices. He bends down to plant a kiss on my clit, making me squirm involuntarily.

"Ready?"

Covalent raises his eyebrows, waiting. I hesitate but that's going to earn me another reprimand. I just need to get through this. I just need to obey the rules.

"Yes."

His hand is in my crotch, one finger embedded deep inside me, his other fingers spreading me wide, exposing my inner lips. He slaps, harder this time, and it's directly onto my exposed clit. I scream, pulling so hard on my bindings that suddenly I can't breathe, choking on the noose around my neck. It doesn't matter: I twist from side to side in agony, so much that he has to use both hands to pin my hips in place on the table as I shudder and moan. My entire crotch buzzes angrily, like it's on fire. I'm grinding my teeth together in a supreme effort to remain silent because I know he's just going to keep escalating the punishments.

"Raven, concentrate. Ride it."

His tone is conversational, like we're discussing lunch options. I try to lunge towards him, but the noose is tight around my neck now, cutting off my air. I can feel the blood rushing to my face as I strain. He pushes down hard on my chest, his other hand going to my neck, tugging. The pressure is released, all of a sudden, and I draw in long, shuddering breaths. I feel his hand relax, resting lightly now between my breasts.

"All done."

I glare at him, silent.

"Did you forget your safeword?"

The way he says it cuts through the fog in my brain, like he's explaining something simple to a child.

"Do you need me to repeat the question, Raven? Or are you not answering me on purpose?"

The implied threat of further reprimands is enough.

"No."

"Okay, so did you forget your safeword?"

"No."

"And yet you didn't use it."

It's a statement, not a question, so I'm unable to say anything more, trapped by the rules he's imposed on me. I have questions of my own. Does he enjoy hurting women? Does he get some kind of weird kick out of beating them up? Does he know what a twisted, sick freak he is?

Fingers stroke my enflamed labia. He's so gentle, but the sensation is electric. My entire crotch is alive to the slightest touch, more so than it's ever been, as if the slaps have woken up every nerve ending. He parts me and his finger enters me again, twisting around inside of me so that his tip is stroking my g-spot. I quiver involuntarily and he smiles.

"I want you to ask yourself why you didn't stop me."

He bends forward, scattering tiny kisses over my swollen labia, up over to my newly-shaved mons, each contact making me shiver. I don't know what he's done to me, but my skin feels alive to his every touch. I feel his lips working along my folds, even as his finger strokes away within me, and my pussy clenches in response, betraying me to the man who has me utterly at his mercy. It's so degrading, feeling my walls constrict around his intrusion, welcoming it, even as he's punishing me. I can't understand this, any of it. He's asked me why I didn't use my safeword and I can't find an answer.

All I can think about is the steady progression of his kisses, working over my tortured skin. He progresses up my slit, then stops and I brace myself for the contact as he spreads me again to expose my inner lips.

Covalent purses his lips around my clit and I cry out, shuddering at his touch. It's almost unbearable. Then he begins to suck delicately, his tongue teasing my battered nub with little gentle motions. My core contracts, riding the waves of pleasure. I want him to stop. I want him to say sorry for hitting me. I want respect for my body. I want to be treated like... like....

The waves begin to build, emanating from the twin points of my clit and the inner wall of my vagina, worked expertly in tandem by the man standing over me. I close my eyes, locking onto the ecstasy of his touch, aware that my body is betraying itself, humiliating itself by displaying its need. I try to hold onto the last shred of my self-respect, but I begin to moan; the sounds emanate from my throat without my volition, called forth by Covalent's unhurried, teasing ministrations. There is a point that I stop fighting it, and he seems to sense it, stepping up his efforts until I'm gasping. The only thought in my head is that I want to cum. The fear is that he won't let me.

His lips break off and he begins to explore the rest of my pussy with his tongue, shifting his focus up to plant delicious kisses on my shaved skin. My moans transmute into frustrated, strangled sounds and I hear him laugh softly. He's laughing. I don't care anymore, though: I just need his lips to touch my clit again. Instead, I have to wait for an eternity until he's explored me, nuzzling back down into my folds to take my neglected, throbbing nub between his lips. I groan in relief.

Covalent brings me to the edge again, but then he breaks off. I'm being driven slowly insane, built up to the crest and then neglected. He's able to detect the exact moment that it's too much, and he breaks away. My eyes are screwed tightly closed, desperately concentrating on his touch, trying to push myself into orgasm. He's not permitting me though, however much my body squirms beneath him. I'm losing track of time, riding the waves of blissful tease and then tormenting denial, over and over, until all thought is extinguished. I can't remember my safeword anymore. I doubt I can even remember my own name.

Covalent brings me to the very edge and this time it's different. He isn't stopping or pulling back, and I'm shuddering around his intrusive finger, milking him as I build up to my desperately-required climax. I'm ready to cum for him: my entire body is aching for it. I don't know how long he's been tormenting me, but it feels like hours. I feel the blissful relief of climax descend and I let go.

His finger slides out of me and he breaks contact, forcing me to scream in frustration, "No, fuck, no!"

It's a reprimand, it's punishment, but I'm way beyond caring. His fingers brush over my throbbing clit, prolonging my agony. I need to cum so badly, I just need one more touch. I'm so close.

The slap is vicious, making my entire body convulse. I see white, my mind blanking out, a shockwave travelling through me, radiating out from my crotch in all directions, making my toes tingle and my ears burn. I orgasm powerfully, unstoppably, my entire body locked rigid. The rope is tight around my neck again but that doesn't matter: I can't breathe anyway. I can feel something between my legs, an irresistible urge to empty myself, and I abandon myself to it, my vagina pulsing as I squirt all over his hand. I'm clenching, hard enough to cramp, but my pussy keeps going, rippling under the onslaught of one of the more powerful orgasms I've ever experienced.

Covalent's watching me, admiring his handiwork, at the way he took a full-grown woman and turned her into a shuddering, squirting, mindless toy. I couldn't stop it, I couldn't fight him. Despite all my high ideals and my legendary control, I've allowed him to debase me and it feels like paradise.

A hand rests lightly on my stomach. I gradually register the pressure of its touch. There is a tug at my neck as he slackens the noose again.

"Let's add one more permitted phrase to your vocabulary. Thank you."

"Thank you," I gasp, responding immediately, "Thank you, thank you."

I'm rambling, my thoughts a jumbled mess. I don't know how he's done any of this to me.

"You're welcome."

The hand is removed and I hear sounds below me. The next sensation is wetness over my stomach and my legs. I open my eyes to see that Covalent is wiping me down with a cloth.

"Let's get you cleaned up. We should have dinner."

I blink at him, sluggishly. The light has faded now, and I realise how much time has passed. My body feels stiff with the exertion, and when he slackens the noose enough to tip my head up, I don't resist. He has a cup and he holds it to my lips, letting me drink thirstily. I'm still tied, spread wide for him, but I feel different now. The humiliation has gone, replaced by a steady, welcoming glow. He touches my skin and I feel warm inside.

Covalent finishes cleaning me. I wonder what's next, what dinner entails, but I don't have long to wait for my answer. He lays the fish down on my torso, the head just below my breasts. I feel its cold body against the warm flush of my skin. He picks up his knife.

I remain very still while he begins to make incisions into the fish, stripping away skin to reveal the white flesh beneath. He slides the blade sideways, filleting it, then cuts it up into thin slices. I watch as he skewers a piece with the tip of his knife and holds it up to my lips. I open my mouth and let him feed me.

The fish is fresh, cool and delicious. I swallow it and use my allowed words.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

I feel a little pressure on my stomach as he presses the knife in again, skewering a piece for himself. It's nearly dark now, the only light being the purple glow of dusk in the sky. I let him feed me, taking each offering in silence. There is something deeply intimate about being helpless, fed tiny slivers of the flesh of the creature he's killed for me. He turns the fish over and fillets the other side.

I can feel the movement of his strokes. The knifework is delicate and expert. I'm keenly aware of the razor-sharp steel slicing through the skin of the fish on my tummy and in the back of my mind is the thought that he could do the same to me, dispatching me with the same measured, exacting strokes. I couldn't do anything to stop him, it would be his choice only. I feel a little thrill deep in my core.

We finish dining in silence. The only sound in the darkened boathouse is the soft lapping of the water against the boat ramp beyond the front doors. He picks up the remains of the fish and walks out to the edge of the deck, throwing it into the water. I watch as he comes back towards me, a silhouette against the dying light of the sky.

Covalent takes the cloth and cleans me again, but this time he goes further. The cloth smooths down my body, over my legs. He dips it into the little bowl again and I feel the cold dampness against my shin as he works his way down to my ankles, still bound tightly against the table legs. I lie back, enjoying his attentions, relishing the sensation of the coolness left behind on my skin as he works his way up my body, over my breasts, brushing against the sensitive twin points of my nipples. He cleans me thoroughly, and then walks away.

His footsteps fade into the distance and it's a couple of minutes before he returns. He leans over me to kiss me on the lips. When he speaks, his tone is quiet and gentle.

"That's better isn't it? All fed and cleaned. Shall we get you off that table?"

"Yes," I reply.

He crouches down at the foot of the table and I feel the rope slackening around my ankles. Instinctively, I close my legs, feeling the ache in my thighs from having been held wide open for hours. I hear a scraping noise beneath the table, but I don't resist as I feel the rope being reapplied to my legs, binding my ankles together and then my knees. He stands up, coming around to my head, loosening the rope around my neck and pulling the loop over my head, freeing me. He helps me to sit up and I can see his movements as he unthreads the noose. The rope goes around my waist, then around my elbows, binding my arms by my sides tightly. He criss-crosses it over my torso, running the blue nylon rope between my breasts and over my shoulders, tying it off securely behind my back. I'm trussed up in a latticework of rope, my arms and legs tightly bound in place.

"How does that feel? Too tight?"

"No."

I feel him pulling at the rope nestled in my cleavage, getting me to my feet.

"Tight enough though?"

"Yes."

I'm standing naked in the dark, bare feet tied together on the rough old wood, supported by Covalent's hand. I can't move. I'm trying to keep my balance, but it's not easy after so long tied to the table. If I fell now, he would have to catch me; I wouldn't be able to save myself. He brushes my hair back from my face. I can't see his expression, but when he comes closer, I open my mouth automatically to receive his kiss.

It's gentle, but builds in intensity until my tongue is entwined with his, kissing like teenagers. When he breaks off, I'm left wanting more.

"I'm going to give you permission to speak. I want the truth from you."

I remain silent, waiting for him to talk.

"Why did you come here, Raven? What do you want?"

I'm intensely aware of his body, the closeness of his touch to my bare skin. The kiss and the rope twining itself around my body have triggered something in me again. I don't have a good answer for him. I don't have any answer at all. I'm drawn to him, to the thing he represents, but I can't put it into words.

"You took an awful risk, coming here," he continues, "Did you follow all my instructions, precisely?"

"Yes."

"So, you know there's no possibility of rescue?"

He's right, but it still shocks me to hear him say it, as if I've been afraid that he'd work out just how hopeless my situation was.