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Journey of a Pain Slut – Act 1

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Have you ever looked across a room and seen someone who you just know will fulfil your every fantasy?

PART 1 – The Guy

Her hair was on the short side, dark with little curls here and there … it framed her face perfectly.

“Another?” The barmaid caught my attention having spotted that my pint glass was almost empty.

“Yes, please same again,” I replied, glancing briefly at her whilst keeping my main focus on the young girl who seemed to love being the centre of attention in the small group that she was sitting with.

I had been watching her for some time and not once had she looked up at me, she was far too vivacious for that. The centre of attention, so why did she need to look away? Who was she? That thought brought a smile to my face.

I knew the answer to some of my question … a student, probably eighteen to twenty years old, it was always hard to tell exactly, but she had too much confidence to be a first year girl, was my thinking, so maybe a second-year student … nineteen then. That was the age I would give her, it seemed to fit.

So, I knew her age, I knew her occupation and … I knew what she was.

The refilled glass appeared along with the barmaid’s hand for my money. I sipped the beer through its smooth, white head and watched the girl some more.

Making some comment and laughing at her own words, along with the mirth filled responses of her small group, the girl, my girl, stretched her body upwards, and the top she wore rode upwards to expose the tell-tale marks, marks that I recognised only too well.

Like I said, I knew what she was.

Deciding that my voyeurism was bordering on the obsessive, I turned away from the small group of Friday-night-let’s-get-pissed students, so that I could give my imagination a short rest.

The pub was busy, but the guys calling in for a pint on their way home from work were beginning to fade away, and the main bar room was looking less full by the minute.

“Are you gonna keep watching me all night.”

I turned to look at the pretty face by my side. For all I had watched this girl ever since I had been in here, her approaching me was a turn of events that I hadn’t really anticipated.

She wasn’t looking at me when she spoke, nor I at her when I replied, “Would you like me to?”

“Free country, do what you like, you pervs usually do.”

I laughed at her attitude, sassy and so damn sexy.

“Perv I grant you, but not in the way you think.”

Now she chuckled and said, “Oh and what way do you perv then?” We still hadn’t looked at one another.

“Well, for a start I’m no danger to you. I’m not going to follow you, or stalk you or …”

“Rape me?” She added. Now I turned to look at her, and was taken aback at the sparkle in her eyes. I nodded and confirmed, “Correct, I certainly have no intention of raping you.”

She did not reply.

“Two pints of bitter please,” her girly voice sounded kind of wrong ordering those drinks.

“You like a man’s drink?” I grinned. She smiled but didn’t reply.

“I know what you are.” I stated somewhat out of the blue. It was a comment designed to be provocative, and to elicit a response. It worked.

“Huh?” She looked quizzically at me, “What did you say?”

“I said that I know what you are.”

Her beers arrived and she handed over the ten-pound note.

“You do huh? And what am I?”

I paused as she looked at me, her change from the ten pounds arriving. I had her attention now, which was what I was aiming for. I took my time, as well as a drink from my beer, while she waited patiently for my answer.

“Your stomach …” I then said, with a cryptic intonation.

“What?” She answered with an undertone of confused annoyance.

“… and a little higher. I can see when you sit back in your seat and stretch. The marks, red still … and your nipples are hard under the sweater, clearly no bra and I would wager no panties either. And no one knows right … not a single one of your friends knows …” I looked across at her face, directly into her eyes, as she hung on my words.

“No one … except me. Am I right?”

She swallowed hard, this pretty young student, and then said with a marked lack of eloquence, “Fuck you Mister.” Despite the obvious attitude she made no move to walk away.

“Now if I had said those words to you little girl, then maybe they would have a more literal intent underpinning them.

Once more she swallowed hard.

“I bet if I asked you to remove your sweater I would see the marks right? Red and raised, the welts from a whip.”

Her eyes widened beautifully as the nail was hammered right on the head.

“Is he your boyfriend?” I nodded my head at the laughing guy in the seat next to one currently vacated. She nodded.

“And did he …?” I raised my eyebrows to indicated what I was referring to. Again, she nodded.

“You need to get your beers back little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl,” she replied with a contradictory assertion.

“No, I can see that,” I smirked turning back to face my pint glass.

“Go fuck yourself,” she said once more purposely demonstrating a lack of eloquence.

“If you want to do what you’re doing with more skill and technique and enjoy the true pleasures that go with the pain, then in ten minutes I will be standing out at the back near to the toilet block. If you come out to me then I will give you my phone number.”

Did she gasp? I like to think so.

“Now get your beers back to the table before they go flat.”

PART 2 – The Girl

Did I tell you? Well, I was in a bar with the BF and some other mates the other week. One down near where we live. A local, I guess you’d say. Anyway, the usual banter about work and footy and the next lecturers’ strike and you know. A few beers, a few laughs. And I loved so much feeling myself naked under my sloppy sweater and feeling the material of my jeans against myself and knowing that I had those gorgeous red marks that only my BF knew about.

And then there was this bloke. Staring at me. I think he was. The sort of stare that turns away when you clock it. He wasn’t a regular, and this wasn’t really the sort of pub that businessmen go to, so probably he was just up on a visit, or something, and fancied a bit of eye-candy peeping at students after hours. Couldn’t really blame him. We (well me and my mates, Clare, Mel – oh, and their BFs – we’re all pretty good eye-candy I think).

Anyway, he didn’t really let up, and well, he was pissing me off a bit. Even more so when he started to talk to me when I was up at the bar. Fuck you I was thinking. Just fuck off. But he didn’t. He said some things I didn’t like, but some things that made me a bit scared too.

He said he knew what I was. I was fluttering a bit. He said he knew what was under my sweater and somehow, I knew he knew and he knew what it was about and he knew about that stuff. And I told him he could fuck off. But he persisted.

Not really threatening, if I’m honest. More tantalising than that. This guy I didn’t know from Adam and didn’t care about. I think I didn’t. Then he said he’d give me his number. I pulled out my tongue and went back to the table and deep kissed the BF and nuzzled up against Clare, sort of playing and kissing her ear.

Then I saw him go to the bogs. I knew he was waiting. I wondered what to do.

“I’ll be back in a min” I said and tousled Clare’s hair (long and brown, if you want to know) as I went for a piss.

And so it’s midnight and I’m back in my flat on my own and my mouth tastes of beer and doner kebab and I’m knackered. And I look at my mobile and his number is there, where I saved it. I wonder what to do. I should go to bed. I touch myself up and tweak my nipples and lie back and sigh. And then I text him.

“OK. What do you suggest then? Tell me who you are and I might be interested…”

SEND

I shouldn’t have, I knew immediately. I phoned the BF and told him I loved him and I wanted him to fuck me and whip me on my thighs to make me happy and he said he loved me too and loved our games and we made slurpy noises, like you do. And then the phone pinged, so I hung up on him.

I was so scared of opening his message….

PART 3 – The Guy

I watched her return to the group and place the beer down, one pint by her place and then the other she placed into the hands of her boyfriend …

With, what I thought was a sly glance back at me she leaned in and kissed him, I mean properly kissed him, open mouths, tongues and residual saliva when they parted.

Her eyes, narrowed and she looked over before sliding up to one of the other girls and then she was nuzzling her too … was this all play for my benefit, or was that too self-centred of me to think like that?

I turned away, back to face the bar and sipped at my beer. Ten minutes, I had said … ten minutes and I would wait out by the toilet block for her …

I wanted to look back across to see where she was gazing, but I didn’t, forcing myself to continue looking away, And then, with ten minutes up from the time when she left me to sit back down, I left my half-drunk pint at the bar, indicated to the barmaid that I would be back and headed for the back door.

The pub was a long established one, a drinking man’s pub some might say, and the toilets were encased in an outhouse built in matching brick to the main building. It was a warm evening, one of those Autumn nights where, despite the onset of an earlier twilight, the air remained warm until quite late. The small courtyard in which I now stood smelt of urine.

Nonetheless, I felt a familiar excitement building up inside my stomach. It had been a while, but not so long that I forgot how this felt.

Would she come, the little girl with the erect nipples under the loose sweater and the red welts adorning her skin? I sensed she would, but it could be that my radar was not functioning as it once did, and so maybe she wouldn’t.

I leaned against the cold brick and waited. I didn’t have to wait for long.

“What?”

I turned my head and smiled at the girl’s vitriolic attitude.

“What …” I said, “What the fuck have you got to tell me.”

“You came.” I stated the obvious.

“Well yeah, so now what.”

I paused letting her sweat a little, the twitch in her finger ends as she rubbed them nervously together exposing her true demeanour, despite her confident appearance.

I let my pause turn into a smirk as I handed her a small piece of paper.

“This is my mobile number, put it in your phone, send me your number and I will text you later.”

That was all I said, and as she took the paper from me, I left her standing alone …”

******

The girl’s number pinged into my inbox later that night, with a short message of her own.

“OK. What do you suggest then? Tell me who you are and I might be interested…”

Reading her words and feeling my groin stiffen, I smiled to myself as her pretty face and firm breasts with those hard nipples flashed up into my mind’s eye. Was she really going to come to me? I suspected so, or else she wouldn’t have taken things this far.

Oh, those marks, red and livid on her firm, nubile flesh …

I began typing out the message that I had promised her.

“Hello my Little Girl, it’s me, the guy from the pub. You very clearly want what I have to offer, or is it that you ‘need’ it? You ask who I am? I am the facilitator of your thrill seeking girl, the harbinger of your pain and your pleasure…”

Now I paused. The next piece of this message would be pushing the boundaries of expectation, especially for a girl so young and one would assume so relatively inexperienced. But then again, if she agreed to my instructions, then I had her and she would be mine …

I continued with my typing, feeling my stiffening becoming more profound …

“… Meet me at the Village Hotel over in Leeds, the one near to the motorways at ten am tomorrow. It is Saturday, as you of course know, and so it will not be as busy as it usually is. I will be in Costa. You will wear the tightest jeans you have and a tight tee shirt. Do not put on underwear. Make excuses before you come to anyone that will need to know, tell them that you will not be returning home until the following day, but feel free to share my mobile and my instructions with someone you trust, should need to feel secure. If you need to get a cab to the hotel then I will reimburse you, but DO NOT be late. You will reply when you read this to confirm our appointment.”

I pressed SEND and poured myself another drink while I awaited her reply.

PART 4 – The Girl

Alone at my keyboard. Feeling so sexy.

I can write about what happened. Term over, so kisses and bye-byes and see you at yours for Christmas after I’ve done pressies and turkey with Ma and Pa. And I’m buzzing and tingling coz before then I’m off to see a girlfriend from school who’s doing Psych at Leeds I lied to him.

Packing my bag. Just a back-pack.

Booking a ticket online. Off through the rain to the station. Leaning my head on the window as the Pennines slide by, obscured by beads of dank water that drag themselves across the filthy glass. Feeling so buzzy. Feeling so sexy. Feeling my boobs tight against my t-shirt (under my pully, coz it’s cold). Feeling my cunt against the material of my jeans. Tight. Like he asked.

Station, bus. Rain and wind. People rushing around. I’m there. At the hotel. Feeling sick with excitement and fear. Longing for something. Knowing I’m transgressing.

Look at my phone.

Ten.

Go into the lobby. Look around. Business people and a few folks who’ve been up for shopping or stuff. Umbrellas. Baggage. Looking lost I guess. I don’t know what to do. Keep looking around.
And then a hand touches my back.

I turn.

Him.

His hand thrusts down between my legs over my jeans. I gasp. Isn’t everyone watching?
No-one’s ever watching.

His nails into my cunt.

I want this.

He smiles, “Glad you came.”

Coffee? I ask him.

Don’t think so, he says. Shall we go. We’ve things to do.

He’s walking away from me and I just follow him.

I’m petrified. What the fuck am I doing? I want something. He can give it me, I think. But I don’t even know him. I’m a fucking twat. What am I doing?

I want to do it. I want what I think will happen.

Fucking exciting. Fucking sexy. Fucking brilliant. Fucking terrifying.

Butterflying inside and feeling so hot and so pretty. I want what will come. I’m pretty sure I do. I don’t know where he’s taking me.

I don’t even know his name.

PART 5 – The Guy

My stomach lurched when I saw her. The tight jeans that I had asked for were there, but the sweater over the tee shirt was not part of the instruction set, and so despite the inclement weather, such a transgression would result in a specific punishment when the time was right …

She was here … she wanted it, though I doubted very much that she knew what ‘it’ was.

I liked this hotel. It wasn’t close to where I lived, that was actually back out towards the Pennines from where she had come, hence why I found myself in the same pub as her and her friends a few days ago.

The lobby area was large and it was easy to remain anonymous in here. Gym users would hurry by as business people fought for the lounge seats. Costa never stopped doing a roaring trade and the time never seemed wrong for someone to be having a beer.

That was why, when I first spotted her a few moments ago, I was able to thrust my hand between her thighs and feel her pussy through the snug denim to fondle her soft folds, so malleable and naked under the fabric. No panties, just as I had instructed.

A gasp, a look of concern on her pretty face and then a nervous smile.

“I don’t think so,” had been my answer to her suggestion that we have coffee. Coffee for fuck’s sake … as I led her away from the lobby and back out towards the car park my smile turned into a chuckle.

I walked quickly and she struggled to keep up. The wind lashed the rain into both of us, perfect weather for making her suffering even more acute.

“Get in,” I ordered as we reached the space in which my car was parked. The Black Discovery was not a new vehicle but it was of contemporary design and large enough to be imposing, not to mention rugged enough to go where we were heading.

“Your car?” She said with an obvious mix of fear and curiosity, a heady mix if ever there was one.

“Yes, of course my car. You will sit in the passenger seat while I drive. Now get in.” My intonation became more assertive and her eyes widened.

“B … but the hotel?”

“It’s 10am the rooms are not ready yet little girl, we will be back here later to continue your … education.”

Looking directly at me, her pretty features framed by an overwhelming look of delicious trepidation, she climbed up and in.

As the doors closed with a satisfying ‘click’ I pressed the central locking mechanism to secure us both inside. Her light gasp told me that she now knew there was no way out unless I initiated it.

“Remember, you want this, so I expect you to be happy about it, grateful even.”

She nodded. “I understand. And I am grateful. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“The truth for a start. Are you wet?” I grinned when she nodded again, red faced.

“Good, now remove your jacket and sweater, I did not say you could put such garments on.”

“But – but the weather …?”

“Take them off!”

I watched as she slid the short, rain soaked jacket from her shoulders and gripped the pullover so that she could ‘pull it over’ her head.

Watching her I swallowed hard and my groin stiffened. As she dropped the sweater into the rear footwell along with her jacket and turned back to face to face the front, my breath was momentarily taken.

Wow.

She was stunning, not just pretty but stunning. Her breasts were unfettered by any bra just as I ordered, but they were high and very pert with the firmness of nubile youth. Her nipples, hard and erect, stood out pushing against the thin cotton.

“Put your hands onto the top of your head. Elbows back. You’re a beautiful girl, I want to see you push your breasts out for me.”

My little girl obeyed, pulling herself very erect. Now for the first indication of what her fate on this rain soaked day was likely to be …

“Oh fuck,” she uttered the expletive so delightfully, before biting down on her lip in an extremely cute and submissive manner when she heard the deadly metallic click of the blade from my folding knife locking into place out of her line of vision.

Enjoying the large gulp that was swallowed into her throat, I shuffled in my seat to lean in closely and whisper in her ear.

“Be a good girl, do everything I say, and I won’t touch your face.” I let the cold steel of the extended knife blade brush against the distended nub of her nipple and I grinned as once more she gasped quietly.

“I’ll be good,” she whispered in return.

Chuckling I nodded and reached across her to pull her seat belt into place.

“You will sit like that until we get to where to where we are going. Do you understand?”

Her sassiness from our encounter in the pub was completely gone now as she nodded back at me.

Without another word I turned to face front and switched on the engine. As we pulled away into the driving rain, heading for the dense woodland at Middleton to the South of Leeds, my cock was pushing hard at the thick denim of my jeans.

Part 6 – The Girl

The car. He said.

What – the – fuck. I thought.

I didn’t even know his name.

WTF was I doing here? In some bit of Leeds I’d never been to with a guy I didn’t know. And doing what he said. Pulling my sweater off, putting my hands on my head, pushing my boobs out.

He could be going to kill me. No-one would know. Off to some woods and gone.

I was trembling. Scared shitless.

Then my brain slowly clicked in.

So, he’s going to kill me. Slowly. Maybe he’ll whip me to pieces. Maybe he’ll crucify me on a tree. Maybe he’ll slice my tits off.
Maybe. And this is weird. Maybe that’ll be ok. I mean. Weird! But maybe that’s what I really want.

I think it isn’t, but …. maybe.

But he won’t. I get rational. Loads of cams everywhere. At the station. In the hotel. When I don’t turn up for Christmas Ma and Pa will be onto it. They’d know I went to Leeds from the BF. They’d trace me. And his car. Unless he abandoned it. But he won’t kill me I think. But maybe it would be sort of special. Feeling the knife slide into my belly.

But he will hurt me. I know that and I want that so much. But it scares me ‘cause it will mark me up and the BF will ask and it will be a mess. But so what. I’ll say I missed him and did it to myself at home. He’ll want to believe me so he will.

I’m thinking so fast I have no sense of where we’re going. The rain is slopping down the windscreen. My nipples are tense against my t-shirt. My pussy is wet. I am so fucking excited. I want him to hurt me so much. I want to hurt so not well. I want to be naked and bound and hurt. I’m so fucking wet. I don’t care. I want to be wherever we’re going. I want it to start. And if he wants (but he won’t) he can slice me up and kill me. (But he won’t).

I don’t even know his fucking name.

I’m so fucking scared, so fucking excited. I am whatever he wants to do to me. He can decide.

I don’t even know his name.

Part 7 – The Guy

I slapped her face to raise what little consciousness she still had. A grunt followed by a soft groan was the response I received. Water dripped from the hood of my waterproof onto her prostrate, soaking wet body, but it made little difference to the state of her dirty, muddy, bloody nudity. The sheen of rainwater covering her naked flesh, then running quickly away taking the droplets of blood with it, was constantly being refreshed from the clouds above, highlighting with a glistening shine the red welts marking her otherwise smooth skin.

A second grunt followed as my fingers, several of them, moved swiftly to open her pussy and reach inside. Grappling for a minute with her soft, pliable folds as she writhed a little under my touch, I circled my fingers making sure she was wet and ready to accommodate me. As I moved my thumb upwards to massage her sore, whipped little clitoris, she convulsed … and now my little girl-toy was wet for me.

“Listen to me Little Girl, you are on contraception, aren’t you?”

Her eyes were wide as she looked up at me, hair plastered to her face. Her left nipple was split initially by the cut from the knife blade, then exacerbated by the bull-whip, momentarily dripped blood before the crimson droplet was diluted into a red streak, before being totally washed away by the rain. The sight made my erection even more stiff as I reached inside my waterproof bottoms and took the burgeoning shaft of my cock into my hand.

“Answer me,” I commanded, and she nodded slowly. It was the only encouragement I needed as I pushed her legs wide apart and drove deep inside her nubile, young body with one swift thrust …

******

As we drove swiftly out of the car park to turn onto the Ring Road and towards the woods, the skies suddenly split and what had slackened off to become a slow patter of rain suddenly became a roar. It began to pour … a deluge of water falling from the sky to thunder on the roof of the Discovery and obscure the windscreen, filling the air outside so completely that I had to slow down.

I flipped the wiper control to high and stepped on the pedal again. I wanted her … I needed her … and so we had to get to where we were going fast. She turned her head and looked at me, back straight, breasts thrust forward over the binding of the seat belt, nipples even harder and her eyes were staring at me. I could see the fear-fuelled anticipation, but it was so clearly mixed with her own wants and needs, and I could tell she wasn’t acting.

“Tell me about it.” I spoke as I drove.

“Huh?”

“The whip marks, the boyfriend, what he does to you. Tell me.”

She sighed with what I interpreted as nervous anticipation. “Okay.”

I waited. She paused, my Little Girl.

“I always liked the thought,” she began.

“Of what?”

“Of being tied up and beaten or whipped.”

“Why?”

“Dunno. I guess it’s just who I am. When I was younger I would masturbate as I imagined it, and then when I felt the time was right, I asked him …”

“The boyfriend you mean?”

“Yes … I asked him to tie me up and whip me with a small whip I made at home myself.”

I nodded and smiled. “And did he?”

‘Yep. He was not sure at first and wouldn’t hit me hard, but as we did it a few times, and then outside when he tied me to a tree, he started to like it … or at least I think he did.”

“Did he fuck you afterwards?”

“Yes.”

Again, I nodded, and then we spent the short remainder of the journey in silence.

I pulled the car through the gateless entrance pillars to the park and woods, and down the tarmac road to the end before moving onto the dirt track that led further into the woods themselves.

“Are … you sure … we should be …” her voice was quiet, squeaky almost, as I turned to face her and smirk in response.

I drove as far as I could, off the beaten track – even the dog walkers were not out in this weather – and then stopped the car.

Turning to her, she widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows at me, as if to say ‘what now’.

“Strip … naked …” I answered her unasked question.

And she did. First of all the tee shirt was gripped and pulled off over her head, offering me a delicious slow reveal of her hardened nipples and perfectly firm breasts.

Fuck, she was stunning, and I mean really stunning. Cock-hardening stunning.

The tee shirt joined the other clothes and I nodded at her jeans. Leaning back in the seat so she could arch her ass off the leather, I watched as she punched lose the buttons and wiggled her hips so that, despite her delicate grip, she could ease the denim away from her body and down over her slender thighs, before pulling them off.

And then, in the absence of panties, she was beautifully naked … this young student that I had bumped into by chance only a couple of days earlier. And, smiling as her arms wrapped around her body so as to cover her exposed nudity, my cock ached … I was so damn hard.

I saw her eyes flicker down and glance at my groin, an action, which if anything, fuelled my erection even more.

Reaching out to her, and ignoring her gasp, I touched the very faded welts that had more clearly adorned her stomach and breasts not so long ago. She flinched but I suspect that was more to do with the chill from my touch rather than any residual pain.

“Get out.” The comment was simple and unambiguous.

“Huh, what now … like this?”

I offered no further affirmation other than to repeat the command.

“Get out … NOW!”

With a nod and a blink … was that a tear forming, oh how I hoped it was … she clicked the handle on the now unlocked door and stepped out. I could feel the cold air and the droplets of rain through the open door, and she was immediately soaked.

Closing the door on her I smiled as I watched her nervously looking around, arms still encircling her glistening, naked body.

The rain was dripping from her hair, her lips were turning blue as the water dripped from her face to run over her breasts and drip like milk from her nipples.

I reached into the bag on the back seat and pulled out water proof coveralls … after all there was no point in me getting wet as well.

“Good girl,” I remarked as I stepped from the car into the continuing rainfall.

“How does that feel,” I asked provocatively, seeing her shiver.

“F … fucking cold …” she replied. Her submissive demeanour only served to inflame my desire, which was almost at boiling point.

I let my gaze drift down to the spot between her thighs. “No hair, you shave … I like that,” I stated. With an additional tremble of her lip, she nodded.

I moved to stand under a large tree thereby minimizing the rain that fell on me. My Little Girl, however, was ordered to stay out in the open. The rain fell soaking her bare skin and shining her nipples. I knew that now because I ordered her to stand with her hands on her head exposing herself once more both to the elements and my gaze. Her hair was soon plastered to her face and her back, chest and legs, in fact her whole body, glistened in the rain. Water dripped off her nose, her chin and ran in rivulets down her thighs.

I reached into my pocket to retrieve the knife. It wasn’t the most intimidating weapon at my disposal, but I thought the metallic hiss while opening the blade would once again help to make my point. Her eyes followed the trajectory as I exposed the blade. She flinched delightfully when it clicked into place.

Moving towards her I buried my free hand into her hair and fisted it tight to hold her still. She yelped.

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t want you moving unexpectedly.”

I brought the knife down flat to rest against the hollow beneath her jaw. I could feel the hilt pulsing against my palm onto her erratic pulse.

“Have you ever been hunting?” I asked. “There’s an art to field dressing a kill. The first step is exsanguination.” I pulled the knife across her neck as I’d been speaking, indicating how I could so easily make her life’s blood flow. Her skin was so blemishless that even in the rain the blunt edge of the knife made a mark onto her delicate skin.

The way her eyes widened, the fear in them obvious, was a delight, and then her whole body stilled save for the unstoppable trembling … it was so rewarding to say the least. And, as I let the blade drift down to her breasts, her breathing stopped.

“Now girl, you will do exactly as I say, do you understand?” There was no reply and so I slid the blade to her left nipple and pressed while pulling it back towards me. The darkened aureole flesh opened up, not greatly, but enough to draw a flow of blood and illicit a loud scream that was all but lost in the wind and rain. She sank to her knees despite my grip on her hair remaining in place …

“Now you understand, right?” The question was rhetorical. It required no answer and received none.

Dragging her back up using my painful grip, I let her go for a fleeting moment while I took several pieces of rope from my bag, which was now sitting under the cover of a large tree.

Shaking her head wildly my Little Girl seemed to be having a change of heart.

Too late girl!

The futility of her action became clear as I grabbed her wrist and pulled her over to a large tree.

“This should do” I spoke with sufficient volume for her to hear. I held her wrists in place easily as I fastened the rope quickly around them. I smiled as she winced when the knots constricted around her wrists, and her groan as I threw the long end of the rope over a large protruding branch was extremely satisfying!

I pulled the rope tight and when my poor, hapless victim was left standing stretched on the tips of her toes, arms high above her head, I tied it off to a nearby smaller tree trunk.

If anything, the rain was falling harder now, and to say my Little Girl was soaked through to her bones was a huge understatement.

She gulped as I spent a few moments drinking in the way she looked. I analysed every contour of her body from her dark, short, straggled rain-soaked hair down to the smooth skin of her shoulders. Then, continuing lower, over fully exposed bare, bleeding breasts and along the full length of her naked legs.

I moved closer to her, and for a long time I kept looking deep into her dark eyes… sensing their depths. Depths I intended to descend into….

Looking around making sure that we were still alone (and of course we were) I leaned in and carefully placed a little kiss on her soft wet lips. She was trembling so wonderfully. Her scent … her sexual aroma was apparent even in all of this rain. Carefully my lips slid across her throat, and from there, teasingly slowly, I tasted the warm, pulsing flesh of her armpit, before very slowly licking the fresh blood emanating from her cut nipple.

“Now it is time,” I said as menacingly as I could, and moved back to the bag. Her face as I pulled out a long, leather, single lash bull-whip was a picture. Her eyes widened even more as I took up a position in front of her.

I needed only a solitary practice lash before I cut the leather hard through the rain-soddened air.

“SWISH…!” the lash descended quickly and exploded like thunder across her bare breasts, leaving a single red, angry welt from marking from one side to the other. The sound made by the covering of rain water on her body, not to mention the heightened pain it would cause, was exquisite!

“BASTAAAAARDDDDDD!!” she cried out delightfully, as my Little Girl was unable to avoid shouting out the expletive in response to the fire that now danced across her body.

Again, the thick length of leather crashed down onto her flesh, expertly leaving a second, long red welt across her taught, naked stomach. Once more her whole body exploded, causing the rain water from her skin to splash high into the air.

“One more Little Girl!” I shouted, and a third stripe hit her swiftly yet again across her soaking wet breasts, criss-crossing the first lash mark and opening the cut on her left nipple. Blood oozed out only to be washed immediately away as she sobbed hard. A fourth followed and my poor girl writhed and squirmed delightfully.

I needed to pause and renew my breath after four mighty lashes. My erection was bursting to get out. I moved closer to her.

“Tell me how you feel,” I smiled. She was silent.

I moved in front of her.

“SLAP!”

She cried out, feeling the sting of my open palm across her wet cheek.

“Tell me,” I ordered. She looked up from under her ragged fringe and tear-filled eyes.

“I … I… it … hurts so much,” she whimpered.

“Good!” I replied, returning to my position.

“Fuck no …” She cried out, her eyes like saucers. Only it was too late, as the thick, leather lash raged down onto her bare mound and, despite her wriggling, the tip caught directly onto her clit.

As her knees crumpled her thighs parted and I cut the leather up and into her open cunt.

She cried out, the loudest yet, and flopped in her bonds, the ropes the only thing holding her upright.

Smiling I dropped the whip back into the bag and moved to release her wrists … she fell in a heap onto the wet ground.

As she lay on her back, hardly moving, in the torrential rain, I looked down upon her naked, beaten body. My erection ached, and so now it was time to take her …

Part 8 – The Girl

I’m lying there. On my back. Staring up at bare branches. Mud spattered over my naked body.

WTF!

What am I doing here?

I hurt like fuck.

My cunt’s on fire. He whipped me there, I know that. And then…
I didn’t mind. I knew it was part of the deal. His fingers, his hand, his cock.

I hurt so fucking much. I’m shivering. I’m soaked. I’m freezing.

He didn’t kill me. I knew he wouldn’t. I guess I’m sort of disappointed. A bit.

He did hurt me.

Out in the rain woods. Naked. Hanging so my toes scrape a hollow in the mud.

My nipple crying from the knife that he split it open with.
Blood washing off me in the rain.

And the whip.

Sweet delicious agony.

Hate it. Want it. Again, I hope. I don’t want it to stop.

I’m in a special place. Stop. Don’t stop.

And he fucks me.

Of course he does. He’s enjoying it, but I think I’m enjoying it more, but he doesn’t even know…

Part 9 – The Guy

The look on her face was one of need, perhaps of want too. The cry from my throat as I thrust deep into her body was feral. A wild animal conquering its prey, marking its territory, taking what it wants. And I wanted her, my Little Girl, beaten, battered and bloody underneath me, oh how I wanted her!

Her eyes bulged as I squeezed the life from her throat, my grip getting tighter with each shot of thick, white seed that entered her body … until I had no more and I released my hold allowing her to sink into a welcome oblivion.

With my softening cock back inside the waterproofs, I picked her up and carried her lifeless form in my arms back to the car. A large towel was spread out on the rear seat ready to lay her down upon. Having positioned her, I started up the car engine and put the heating on full blast. In a few seconds warm air was circulating throughout the vehicle’s interior, drying her naked skin and her hair, reviving her, bringing her round.

I was still dripping from my waterproofs but I wasn’t ready to remove them … not yet.

“Wh … what …” her words were quiet, almost a whisper and her throat sounded hoarse.

“Shhhh little girl, save your strength …” I leaned over from my position next to her on the wide seat and moved my lips to hers. A sensual sound, almost a moan, greeted me as I tenderly kissed her mouth. Her eyes finally open, to see me looming, looking down at her, and with a smile, she looked at me with sleepy, glassy eyes, an imperceptibly confused look on her face, half understanding but not yet comprehending.

I put a drinking bottle to her lips. Water infused with an energy supplement. She would need that, she already did.

Patches of mud coated her body as I began to wipe at them with the towel, drying her, cleaning her. I brushed against her pussy. Freeing my hand from the towel I took her fingers in mine and placed her hand between her thighs.

“Touch yourself for me Little Girl, give yourself pleasure while I provide more pain.”

A gasp signalled her understanding of my command and her small, delicate fingers began to move slowly over the nub of her clit, massaging, circling, engorging.

I grinned as I dipped into my bag, which was now positioned on the front passenger seat and took out a razor-sharp pin wheel.

Returning my attention to this little naked beauty in the back of my car, I saw that her eyes were closed once more and she was beginning to squirm under the expert touch of her own ministrations.

Moving the pin wheel to her chest she winced, and then gasped once more as I ran the sharp pin edges over her welted skin. When I reached her split nipple I paused before moved the pin wheel blade teeth into the cut, riding over the exposed nerve ends and the reddened folds, opening them more, heightening the pain and causing more blood to flow, only this time, without the rainfall to wash it away, it ran in a small rivulet over her swollen breast.

“Owwwww, ohhh fuckkkkkk … stopppppp!” She arched up at the touch of the sharp teeth to her cut. I slapped her face.

“Shut the fuck up Little Girl, you will take everything I have to give you … and you WILL be grateful.”

As punishment for her outburst I ran the pinwheel deeper into her nipple and she gritted her teeth in a stoic attempt to bear the agony.

“Keep masturbating girl, and tell me when you’re ready to orgasm, because if you dare cum then I WILL kill you!”

Her breathing became more ragged as her climax approached and I moved the pin wheel over her stomach and abdomen, down to her thighs. She bore it all with no more outbursts, and then …

“I’m gonna, oh fuck … oh yes, I’m so gonna …” I laughed and slapped her hand away form her clit, causing her to emit a bereft cry as her heightened lust was left hanging.

Once more reaching into my bag I brought out a small egg vibrator and a roll of duct tape. My Little Girl grunted as I open her wet folds up once more to push the vibe deep inside her cunt, before using several strips of the duct tape over her slit to seal it in.

“Whatever you do girl, do not now want to piss!” I laughed, before adding, “Now tell me how this feels.”

I flicked the on switch of the remote control and the egg inside her burst into life. Her eyes opened wide with desire-fuelled sensation, her cunt immediately re-stimulated.

“Nghhhhh …” She groaned delightfully moving her hands to cup between her thighs. I turned up the speed and she arched up, her whole back leaving the seat.

Staring down as she writhed and squirmed, I allowed her to continue until she was on the cusp of climax once more, and then I switched it off.

“Ohhhh nooooooooo!” Another bereft cry came plaintively form her throat.

“Turn onto your stomach Little Girl, I want to cut open your back with my knife before taking you outside again to flay the skin from your body …”

This was far from over …

PART 10 – The Girl

He’s fucking choking me and I fucking love it.

He’s no idea how hot it makes me feel. Fucking me and choking me. My cunt is on fire. I love it. I don’t want it to stop.

I do want it to stop. Of course I do. Or a part of me wants it to stop and the rest of me wants him to squeeze tighter.

But he stops.

And he’s kind. He gives me water. I slurp.

And then he hurts me some more with his pin wheel. Cutting my cuts. It hurts like hell. I love it. I want more.

And then he stops.
Bastard.
And then he pushes something deep in me that sets my whole body trembling. Soooo intense! Soooo good!

And then he stops.
Bastard.
Fucking tease.

Hurt me! I want him to hurt me! Hurt me and not well! Hurt me some more!
Bastard.

He says he’s going to cut me. To skin me. I hope he does, but I think he’s lying. I want him to cut me deep. I want to bleed.

He won’t flay me. He’s scared. I’m not. I want to hurt. I want to hurt. I want to bleed.

PART 11 – The Guy

Her brow furrowed and she swallowed back a choke as my words struck home. I nodded slowly as if to re affirm my intent, and her choke became a quiet sob.

With a malicious grin I switched the egg back on and boy did she know it.

“Nghhhhhh, ohhhh fuckkkkkk …” her hands once more flew to her pussy where the duct tape shielded the soft, pliable, sensitive folds from the outside world, trapping the vibe safely inside to plough its penetrative furrow.

“Pl … pl … please,” she pleaded. Her merciful begging was far more intense as a result of the vibrations deep inside her body as opposed to the pain I was inflicting upon her.

“Pl … please what?” I responded, mocking her.

“Pl … please let me cum,” her eyes were almost closed, tears poured out of each corner and her body shook.

I laughed and switched the evil little device off.

“Noooooo!” my Little Girl cried out, and I laughed even louder.

Then I heard a sound. A male voice and a dog barking. I looked down at the pretty face staring back up at me.

“We have company it would seem, even on a desperate day like today.”

She said nothing in reply.

“I will get out of the car but the window here will be down a few inches. I am serious when I say that if you want this to stop just shout out through the gap. Demand that he helps you …”

She looked confused as I opened the car door. It was a risk that I was taking, but a calculated one.

“Morning,” I offered up my pleasantry.

“Awful one isn’t it?” the dog-walker replied as the rain battered us both, “I haven’t seen another soul out here in this, but I have to walk him now because it’s the only chance I will have today.”

I nodded my understanding, then offered up my own reason for being here. “I’m on a mission to collect wild holly for friends and family … you know the Christmas Season and everything …” where the fuck did that come from, I smiled inwardly to myself, “and once I had promised to do that today, then I couldn’t not come.”

I glanced at the partly open window. Not a sound, just as I expected.

“Have a great Festive Season,” he waved at me as I watched the man and his dog disappear into the density of the woodland surrounding us.

I smiled to myself, as I opened the car door again to see the glorious sight that awaited me.

“Good girl, you clearly want more. Am I right?”

With an apparent reluctance at being forced to admit her own perverted desire, she nodded and I climbed back in closing both the window and door behind me.

“Turn over,” I reminded her of my instruction. With a fresh gulp briefly constricting her throat she pushed herself up and flipped her body, gasping with a wince as the red welts and cut came into direct contact with the towel.

“Good girl,” I said straddling her naked shape, the seat wide enough to let my left leg kneel by her hip whilst my right foot balanced in the footwell.

Fuck she was gorgeous. Nubile … young … fit and oh so firm. I felt a new stirring in my groin.

“Please don’t …”

I laughed out loud once more. “Don’t what girl?”

She did not reply.

Taking the blade I again made a point of letting the razor sharp edge flick free, the metal clicking into place. Now that she knew I was actually prepared to cut her, my Little Girl emitted a quiet whimper.

My erection burgeoned once more, beginning to push against the denim of my jeans and the smoother, shiny fabric of the waterproofs.

Pressing the blade upon her lower shoulder, just above her shoulder blade on the right-hand side. I stilled my hand letting the cold steel play upon her flesh and resonate in her imagination.

Another delightful whimper.

I pressed harder and opened her skin in a cut length of maybe four inches. Not deeply but enough to send a new wave of shock through her gloriously exquisite form.

“Oh fuck, please …” Her pleas were music to my ears.

“Shut the fuck up Little Girl,” was my only response as I drew upon the smooth canvas of her body, slowly dragging thick strokes of freshly revealed blood, down and around, following the slender length of her spine to the top of her firm, peachy ass. The stark contrast of crimson on pale flesh was beautiful …

I pressed my finger gently against the cut on her shoulder, her upper back really, just enough for a drop of blood to ooze onto my finger and run down over it, breaking the obvious tension that has built up in inside her as she let out a low sound of hungering lust. The droplet ran down over her shoulder blade, leaving a rivulet in such a pretty shade of passionate red, the thick, sticky blood spilling out and joining the rest of the spiral pattern I had daubed upon her flesh.

I went through the motion again, but lower this time, slowly drawing the blade across both of her buttocks. From one side to the other, a red line following my path broken only by the crevice of her small rose like hole, at the cavernous shadowy parting of the cheeks. A steady motion … I was unwilling to rush and give it fully to her until I saw the more bestial parts of her mind coming to the fore.

Then, as realisation dawned, my Little Girl screamed and lifted her head, which I immediately slapped hard so that she lay back down with a loud sob.

This time, when I cut her, I took a droplet on my finger and reached over to her face, which was turned sideways from the towel. I gave her that tiny drop and a primal sound left her throat as she opened her mouth wide and sucked my finger in before displaying her red stained tongue for me to see …

Back to my task. Another flick of my wrist and a new red line appeared across the middle of her back.

More groans … her body trembling now … but no dissent could be heard, not one word.

As I coated my fingers thoroughly in the latest stringy line of red, I knew that this little vignette of play, me fingering my Little Girl’s pretty mouth, sating her hunger with the welcomed violation of my fingers slick in her own blood was heightening her warped sense of desire.

With my erection now pressing painfully against the waterproofs and my jeans, her back and ass coated in red from the few shallow cuts that now adorned her nubile frame staring up at me, I already knew what that next step had to be.

“Get out, back into the rain,” I said very clearly, assertively and without any ambiguity.

Part 12 – The Girl

Why the fuck won’t the bastard let me cum? I’m burning up.

Fucker!

He tells me I can call out if I want to.
I won’t.

He knows that. He thinks he’s in control.
But really it’s me.

I’m here because I want to be here. I love my BF, but I wanted something more. Nah, I needed it. Intensity. And this guy, whatever his name is, he can give it to me. I just have to stay here, stay for him. But I’m the one in control. I’m choosing. I’m the one he needs to play with. I’m the one who he needs to hurt, and I want to be hurt. I don’t care if it’s him or someone else. I just want to be hurt. And he’s doing ok. He’s hurting me.

I can feel my cuts from the whip.
I can feel his knife against my shoulder.
I want to be cut.

I can feel my blood. He lets me taste my blood. He’s doing good. He needs to cut me some more.

Maybe he will flay me.

He won’t. I know he won’t. He’s too scared. But I wouldn’t mind. He could flay me. All of me. My back, by belly, my breasts. He could kill me.

But he won’t.

He wants me to come to him again.
He knows he won’t easily find another one like me. Who really wants it.

He tells me to get out of the car, back into the rain, back into the woods.

The light is beginning to fade.
The woods are getting dark.

I want him to hurt me in the woods. To hurt me again. I want to feel the hurt.

I want some more pain before this is all done for the day and I’m back in the hotel and he’s soaping me in the shower and I’m on the train back to my flat and off to Ma and Pa’s for Christmas.

He’s not got long.

I want him to do something he’s scared of doing. I want to feel something I didn’t expect. I want him to want to hurt me so so badly.
I can feel the rain on my nakedness.

On my cuts. In my hair. Plastering my hair to my face. Running down my tits, over my clit, down my legs.

He thinks he’s running this show. He’s not. I am. I’m the one he needs to hurt, and he’s so, so grateful, because I’m letting him.

Part 13 – The Guy

Pushing her in the small of her red smeared back my Little Girl stumbled on the bed of slippery leaves. I laughed and, grabbing her by the hair, I pulled her screaming back to the same tree, the one with the large, thick protruding branch.

Pulling her upright by the roots of her short hair, her hands scrambling at my wrists in a fruitless attempt to dilute the agony, she stood on her feet, sniffing her nose, wiping the snot leakage on her forearm.

The rain was now heavier if anything and while I pulled up the hood of my thick waterproofs to protect myself, her body was dripping wet in seconds. As I circled her body I could see the livid pink of the cuts, cleansed of blood by the continuing downpour, standing out.

Positioned in front of her shivering torso once again I touched the tip of her nose in a mockingly gentle manner, and stepped away before turning to address her.

“Hands out, clasp them together.”

My instruction was purposefully brusque, and she obeyed in an instant.

Grinning, no more words shared, I tied the wet rope tightly back around her already chafed wrists. Her gasp of pain was but a minor prelude to the main event that was about to unfold.

Once more her arms were pulled high above her head, but this time, before tying the rope off I pulled hard until she was suspended a full six inches off the ground … which for her might as well have been 6 feet.

“Fuck, no ohhhhhh fuckkkkk!” I could already see the fresh strain on her shoulders as the bones pulled themselves away from the sockets.

“Stop whining girl, as much as I would love to dislocate your body that won’t happened unless I secure rocks around your ankles …”

I grinned menacingly leaving the thought as to whether or not I would actually do that, running wild through her mind.

Secured again, she presented a stunningly beautiful target. But she wasn’t quite perfect, not yet. Taking a second rope I tied her ankles together and then pulled that rope to the trunk of the tree, twisting her body in the process so that her back face me. When the additional rope was secured around the trunk it meant that whatever squirming and writhing she attempted, she could not turn her body. Her back was my objective this time …

But first … with a smug smile playing on my lips I switched the egg vibe on, and in a second she screamed and began to writhe and jerk in her bonds. Her head flew back and she groaned loud enough to be heard above the rainfall. With her hands tied so that she couldn’t cup herself, and her thighs pressed close together by the ropes around her ankles, I knew this time the need that circulated around her body would become even greater.

And so it proved. I moved closer to her, standing at her front, facing her, my mouth close to hers now that she was raised away from the ground, and as she whimpered and begged for release, I kissed her. Hard. Gripping her hair to hold her head steady, I mashed my lips onto hers. Her response was wonderful. Open mouthed her tongue danced with mine as her desperation for release grew … and then when her whole body shuddered, I pulled away and switched the device off.

Her groan of frustration was like a symphony to my ears. A beautiful, wonderful sound.

Stepping away from her hung torso, still trembling with unfulfilled desire, I took a new whip from my bag, which had accompanied me from the car back out into the wet. This version contained several lashes, not quite the notorious ‘cat’ but each of the half dozen or so leather strands was tipped with a small steel ball. This would scourge her. This would hurt.

I paused to look at her sleek, slender back, already cut, already marked, dripping with a thin red coloured watery liquid as the blood flow, which had all but ceased, was diluted with rain water.

“Are you ready Little Girl?”

I paused for response, but it was a rhetorical question. I expected no answer and when none came, I swung at the girl, and laid the whip sharply across her peachy ass. Not just with a flick of my wrist … now feeling refreshed after the break, and so I put full momentum into the swing, and thwack! The effect was electric.

My Little Girl went rigid, sucking in air. A nanosecond of delay, then her body jumped in place, the shock wave visible up and down her skin. She arched involuntarily in a single glorious movement. The cry she tried to stifle growled its way out of her. “Oh, shhhh … it! Shit. Shit! Fuckkkkkk!”

The blow raised a pair of livid double welts across her round buttocks. Despite her immobility, she couldn’t help but try to shake out the pain as the knife cuts opened and blood oozed out once more. The rain was easing now and the crimson flow stayed in place a little longer.

I paused until she settled down, before letting the second lash swipe through the air. I saw how my girl tensed her body as the whip landed with a thud from the opposite side. The sharp tipped decorations of torture pierced her skin around the small of her back and right hip.

Perfect aim. More cuts opened up and began to ooze. I froze my position briefly, leaving the strands hugging her body, before flicking my wrist to rally the already agonising grip they held upon her. And then with a vigorous tug, I ripped the whip through her skin.

She cried out, arching backwards once more as the blood began to weave its journey down her thighs and buttocks.
The third blow came within an instant of the second, when the barbs slammed into my suffering victim’s flank, inviting fresh blood to come forth from muscle stripped of skin as I once more tore away the odious lash. She yelled out guttural cries of anguish; shaking her trembling body, squirming to be free, hands desperately clinging to the ropes that secured her wrists. Another lash sliced her back open and she fell limp hanging from her wrists.

But I was not yet done and despite her lifeless appearance I swung my arm and another loud crack divided the atmosphere as the whip once more split her skin. A scarlet line of fire scorched the girl from shoulder to shoulder. Her body shook back into life.

More cries of agony as she contorted her nubile form into an almost impossible angle, screaming agony and fear.

The tortuous whip hasped its tips into her shoulder and upper arm. It’s violent removal triggering rivers of blood to stream down her body, over her back and ass, to drip onto her thighs, striping her leg like the seam of a silk stocking.
My Little Girl’s screams became as raw as her body.

The lashes embedded into her ribs with the next strike. She arched her broken body forward this time, swinging her legs upwards, head back, she screamed as the metal raked her ribcage.

I immediately saw the opportunity for the next lash, and so while she was in the arched position I hammered the whip onto her right shoulder, serving a direct hit on the cut which had now opened wide and flowed with blood. The weighted strands landed with a hollow thud around her body across her chest and already beaten breasts. The barbs buried into her flesh. The sharp deliberate yanks to pull the whip back opened fresh wounds, furrowing her skin. Warm red liquid seeped mellifluously but copiously, over my girl’s toned body.

Then another swipe dug into her back with an audible wet thud. She cried out hoarsely, interrupting the gasps of agonizing shock from the previous impact. And the she fell still … very, very still …

With the downpour having stopped, in the eerie silence all I could hear was the dripping of rain water from the trees around us, and I could see the dripping of blood from her prostrate body.

Her breathing was shallow, her very stretched position making it difficult for her lungs to work as they should …

How much more could she take? As I reached back into my bag, I was about to find out …

Part 14 – The Girl

Fuck yes! He’s stringing me up! I’ve dreamt so much of this.
I’m off my friggin’ feet!

My arms are pulling out of their sockets! My tits are pushing out, my lungs are screaming at me! It’s fuckin’ brilliant!

Why do I love this pain so much?

I’m a fucked-up girl I think.
Fucking fucked up.
Fucking fucking fucked and about to be well and truly fucked.

He’s tying up my ankles.

It’s fucking’ brilliant!

He knows me I think.
I’m HURTING!

But the bastard! I’m all over the fuckin’ place! Let me FUCKING CUM YOU BASTARD!!!
Bastard…

Whip me then.
Yeah!
Whip me!
Yeah!
So fuckin’ fuckin’ good!

He just hears my screams, but inside I’m fuckin’ crying with sex and happiness!

Oh God BF! You can’t do this to me!

I want him to hit me again.
Yeah!

My fuckin’ burning ass!
Wrap that lovely, sexy whip around my side you bastard!
Fucking hit me so you cut my cuts!

I’m bouncing!
I’m hurting so so much!
I’ll never explain these cuts to anyone… I don’t fucking care. Hit me!

Hit me!
Hurt me!
Hurt me til I can’t even cry any more!

I love this!
Hurt me!

Fuck!!!!

Part 15 – The Guy

I wanted the rain to stop and now it had. It wasn’t because I felt any sympathy for this Little Girl’s plight, no not all, far from it … the way she suffered was my nirvana, my turn on … I wanted it to stop raining because I needed fire!

At this time of year the twilight was with us by 3pm and it was dark within sixty minutes. However, when we have a day consumed by the cover of pendulous clouds like we had today, then it became gloomy shortly after lunch and, although it was only 2pm, in the eye of a dense woodland like we were now, the light had almost disappeared.

Perfect … fire for the heat and light … and for the pain.

Having checked the contents of the bag for the finale, my
‘pièce de résistance’ if you will, I had zipped it back up. There was something else that I needed to do first, something that my groin, and more to the point my erection, was insisting upon.

The girl looked dead, and though I knew she wasn’t, her lifeless appearance fuelled my hard-on to bursting point.

I untied her ankles and then released the tied-off end of the rope that was fastened around her wrists. She fell to the ground with a thud and a groan, of course she did.

I stood over her and reaching down I dragged her back up by the roots of her hair. A short while earlier the same movements and hold on her had resulted in frantic grasping and grappling on her part, but now there was nothing. My Little Girl had become my Little Rag Doll.

“Stand,” I ordered, hoping that she had at least some semblance of conscious recognition.

And she did, just, getting slowly to her feet while I tied off the wrist rope again, but this time leaving her standing on the wet, soggy ground.

Her eyes rolled and her head slumped forward as she toppled over, her knees buckling leaving her hanging by the wrists.

With a malicious grin I switched on the egg vibe. A jerk followed by a bodily convulsion was all I got. A higher speed was needed, top speed … ultimate vibration.

A groan, and then another, more powerful convulsion. Her hips writhed and her eyes opened wide.

“That’s it, that’s better girl … feel it inside you, feel it deep.”

And now she was wide awake, and squirming.

“Pl … please, please Mister …”

“Please what Little Girl?” I replied.

“Let me cum, please, pleeeeease …” And she almost did, right then.

Almost.

I switched off the vibe and paused to relish her cry of desperation beyond frustration. Then, moving to her, I ripped away the duct tape covering her slit. She groaned long and loud as my fingers dug into her cunt so that I could retrieve the insidious little toy.

Stepping around to her front, I reached inside my waterproofs, unfastened my jeans and whipped out my hard cock and full-again balls.

I looked into her eyes as I grabbed her thighs and pulled her upwards, her legs locking around me.

“Keep looking at me,” I growled as the swollen head of my erection pushed at her, and then, having positioned the shaft appropriately, with a thrust of my hips, I buried myself deep and to the hilt in her warmth and wetness.

“Nghhhhhhh,” was all the response I got, but she was so high on desire so that when the upward angle of my penetration pushed against her clit, it took hardly any time for her to bite away at my waterproofs and thrust her exquisitely beaten body back at me.

“Cum for me, cum now Little Girl.”

And she did.

And then, so did I.

Oh, fuck it was so good, so damn good, and in that brief moment of shared ecstasy, as she cried out, I truly loved her.

Thrusting my pleasure, each slamming home of my groin resulting in another copious shot of thick, white seed being injected deep inside her body.

“Fuck you Little Girl, fuck you hard,” was my mantra as I did just that.

Sated I staggered away from her hanging form, now limp once more. My cock dripping with sperm as was her cunt, our mutual juices flowing onto her thighs to mix with the drying blood.

“Fuck, I needed that,” I gasped to her replacing my cock inside my waterproofs, but it might as well have been to myself as her head drooped once more.

Smiling I moved to the bag which had been left propped on a large rock. Now it was time … from this there would be no coming back. No papering over what has happened here today in the woods. This would cause mental and physical anguish all in one dangerous swoop … it was the stuff nightmares are made of, or fantasies, depending upon your predilection!

Unzipping the bag I pulled out the box of wooden skewers, you know the sort that are used to hold a good club sandwich together, or secure a tasty skewered chicken and mushroom cocktail, or pineapple and cheese or whatever. But today I had a more nefarious use for them.

“Wh … what …” I looked up as a quiet sound came from the newly raised head of my poor Little Girl.

“Wh … what am I doing?” I finished off her sentence in mocking tones.

I got to my feet and strode across to stand contemptuously in front of my trembling, shivering and terrified looking, prize.

“So, my Little Girl, you came here filled with intent, determined to prove that what I had was what you wanted. I ask you now … was it?”

“Unnghhh, I dnnnnnt,” her words were slurred and incomprehensible, until a casual punch to her stomach temporarily robbed her of all breath.

I grabbed her hair, held her face inches from mine, and once more I kissed her. But this time there was no reciprocation, no open mouth, no tongues, just a single, desperate groan of exhaustion.

Then she screamed and looking down her body to see that in my left hand I was squeezing her right breast, puckering the nipple, whilst with my left hand I was pushing one of the sharpened cocktail sticks through her distended teat.

She cried out and shook wildly in her bonds.

“Keep still or it will hurt all the more girl,” I instructed her patronisingly.

She fought for breath, yelling even louder as I pushed harder, breaking the skin of the nipple causing a trickle of fresh blood to ooze out.

“No, fuck stop!” She begged. But her pleas just made me all the more determined and with the final exertion committed on my part, the sharpened stick slid into place through the nipple, bringing forth a desperate, high pitched scream from my delightful, hanging victim. I waited until the screams died away giving rise to one long continuous groan.

Now for the left nipple, the one with the knife cut through the aureole … this one I would enjoy the most.

I heard her gasp as the sharpened wooden point pushed into her breast. Deeper into the firm flesh this time because I needed to get under the cut. It was harder and the more I pushed the more she screamed, until her flesh was punctured and the skewer slid home, and more blood oozed from the open cut.

“Oh fuck,” she managed to utter, now panting hard, her breasts bejewelled by the symmetry of the wooden needle lengths, Beautiful.

It was with my widest grin of the day that I took out a lighter from my pocket.

“What the fuck?” Her words were much more coherent now as the true horror of my intent became clear.

“Enjoy Little Girl,” I responded as I held the lighter flame to one end of the wooden skewer that was inserted into her right breast. It soon lit with a small flame, as did the other end …

“Noooooo!” Her cries were sustenance to my needs, hers too … maybe.

I repeated the action on the other skewers and soon all four ends were alight and slowly burning towards the middle, heating up her flesh as they did so.

I moved away and unfastened the tied-off rope end before hauling her up and high, this time until she was several feet from the ground.

The effect was dramatic. Her writhing body high in the air held up only by her wrists, with the burning wooden needles lighting up the all-consuming gloom that had now descended over the woodland.

What a picture. What a delight.

What she didn’t realise, or at least I assumed she wouldn’t, was that the actual flames currently warming her breasts were not the worst of it. They would extinguish shortly as they reached the sanctity of her body where the oxygen would be reduced, but by then the wood would be smouldering and the two charred ends would continue to burn away inside her body underneath her skin, scolding the exposed nerve ends and driving her wild with untold agony.

I looked up at her, bucking and twisting on the rope, a sense of cruel satisfaction painting my features, her whole world now boiled down to this single, terror infused, point of focus and the skewers burned away.

And then it happened. The flames gave way to four small plumes of lightly coloured smoke that indicated the wood was still burning inside each breast.

“Aaaaaargh! Oh fuck, ohhhh no stop it pleeeeease!”

Fuck, she was making me hard again.

Her body convulsed, and jerked …

Fuck you little girl, fuck you hard, you fucked up fucking slut!

I touched my cock and felt the length and thickness to its girth returning. I felt all powerful watching my Little Girl’s tits burn and her body writhe.

I could hardly breathe as I watched the pain manifest all over her hung body, still nubile in its shape, and delicious in its squirming movements, as she tried, with obvious difficulty, to frantically suck air into her lungs.

The skewers took a long time to burn, and, sensing her desire to let her mind fade away I picked up a long branch to poke at her raised body, thus making sure that her senses refused to leave her, and that twisting and writhing desperately, she experienced every last moment of agony, just as I had intended she would do.

Then, finally, as the smoke dissipated and I stopped my poking of her body, she stilled … her conscious mind taken from her as her naked, beaten and severely abused body was left swinging gently in the dark wood.

It was over … for now.

Part 16 – The Girl

Fuck me I’m half dead.

I’m hanging here bleeding.

I hurt so much.
I hate it and I love it.

I’m almost fucking dead.

Shit! My whole body shakes.
I’m down. I’m thinking it’s over …
I’m hoping it’s not.

He fucks me like he’s knifing me but I explode with him in me.

He’s not done.
I’m fuckin scared now. He is going to kill me.

I want more but I don’t.
I want to be warm and wrapped up.
But I don’t.

I want him to hurt me.
And he does.

Through my breasts.
He’s fucking destroying my tits.
He’s going to fucking burn me.

I want him not ever to stop.

I can feel the burning skewers

And now my wrists are torn upwards and I’m hanging and spinning and my Tits are burning and I’m hurting like hell and at the same time wondering how I’ll ever get those fucking burnt skewers out from my nipples and what the fuck I’ll tell the BF and I’m hurting and hanging and cumming all at once and I love this so much.

I don’t even know his name.

I … don’t… even… kn….

THE END OF ACT 1

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3 Comments

  • Reply KYLIEJENNNOLETTO ID:7ezgfruk0b

    DUDE DIVIDE INTO PARTS……THIS IS LONG

    • Psiberzerker ID:1fr6k6ud4

      Act 1. That means that it is, already divided into parts.

      If it’s too long, don’t read. The word count is right there in the description. Right next to the number of comments.

    • Fossy (M)AND Peony (F) ID:2nhizyx6ia

      All comments appreciated. Like the second comment says, there is already 6 complete Acts and so it is divided. You could always read in different ‘sittings’ 🙂 I hope you enjoyed it because there’s more to come very soon.
      Fossy.