News Story Ch. 03

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Jean takes a hike back into the woods.
8.3k words
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Part 3 of the 7 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 11/02/2011
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Hector McDougall had expected me in his office at 9 o'clock this morning. As a reporter for the Hemmingsburg Report, I was going there to interview Hector about his company: the 'Man's World'. Contrary to its provocative title, the establishment offered erotic sexual fantasy escape scenarios which catered exclusively to females. The female chose a fantasy ranging from the mundane to an option called 'Surprise Me'. The latter option plunged the female into realms unknown. It was a sort of Fantasy Island for the FemSub side of the MaleDom / FemSub alliance. Of course, there was no little fellow in a white tuxedo pointing and shouting 'ze plane, ze plane'. But in most other respects, it was very, very similar. The FemSub dream any girl wanted could be created. Mr. Billings, the chief editor and my boss at the paper, had assigned this as my very first story; I had not been on the job for a week by the time I walked into Hector's office this morning.

Hector is a very friendly man – kind of a requisite for a successful business owner I suppose. He explained the rationale behind the enterprise and then he toured me through various the alternatives and nuances that customers have come to enjoy. I was astonished, not only by the fantasies themselves, but also by the type of woman who would partake in these exploits.

In fact, at the end of the interview, I was so overwhelmed by the erotic excitement of the place that I returned and asked for the fantasy option: 'Surprise Me'. I did not known exactly what was involved with the 'Surprise Me' option when I chose it. Hector's explanation had been extraordinarily vague. I had envisioned myself mounted on the sawhorse that I had seen in the last room we visited in the warehouse. For some strange reason, that had really pushed the erotic slice of my brain into motion. It had budged my imagination into unexplored corners.

The 'Surprise Me' option has turned out to be much more intense than I could ever imagine. I had spent most of the afternoon learning as the option dug deep into my innermost feelings of fear and anticipation, of anxiety and excitement. It was one of the most basic FemSub visions, capture and enslavement by a domineering master. I was being hunted; it was a chase. And at the very end, when the pretentious finish line was in sight just a few feet away I was captured. But I was captured only in the sense that the journey had turned from its path onto a new path. My instincts took over and forced me to surrender. But 'forced' is not right word either. I had leapt over the divide and into the world of submission. My surrender was my destiny.

I was captured by a hunter, a plunderer, a brigand. He was anonymous. I saw several hunters during the chase. They had all dressed identically: gray pants, black shoes, no shirt with a green vest and a black mask. They all looked the same. They were members of a band. It was a band whose task was to round up women who were roaming free in the woods.

Now, I am being pushed back into the woods behind the establishment's main warehouse. There is a cloth belt wrapped around my neck; it is attached to the end of the pole he uses to push me. I have my wrists bound behind my back. I have a bridle gag in my mouth. I am naked. He has not spoken. There is not much need for speaking at this point. I will do whatever he wishes. He is the Master.

***

He prods me on as we walk down the trail. He looks no different than the other men I saw: the gray pants, the black shoes, no shirt underneath the green vest, the black mask, a whip hanging on his belt. It was as if it were a uniform. I am not so embarrassed to be naked before him. I actually try to accentuate my lilt as we trek into the woods. I want him to know that I realize he owns me.

We go over the small rise and I can see the bridge where I had rested just minutes before. He pushes me across the bridge then makes me turn to the right. This is a new trail; I am back into unknown territory again. The landmarks are new. The destination is yet to be understood.

The trail sidles along the creek. The water is clear. It meanders; there is no stirring of the mud and silt. Every now and then I hear a plunk in the water. I look around to see what it is, but to no avail. The ground is wet and cool. The bottoms of my feet look to be turning a muddy color. We continue walking like this for half an hour or so. The creek has wound around a bit, so I am not really sure which direction I am heading. Way off to my left I see some rocks – maybe those were the ones where I had hidden earlier in the day. We trudge on deeper into the woods.

We come upon a large boulder that juts out into the creek. He stops there and sets the pole on the ground. He bends down and takes a quick drink from the creek. Then he gets up; using the pole he forces me down to the creek to do the same. I do not want to drink this water, but I have no choice. I lap up a few sips; I cannot get much – I do not know how to lap up water like this. I suspect that I will need to learn how. The little bit I do swallow is cool and refreshing. He stands me back up and again pushes me on the trail beyond the boulder.

After another fifteen minutes we get to a small clearing. We stop there. He pushes me down to a kneeling position. He walks a few steps away and sits in the grass looking directly at me. He has not spoken during this whole time and is not speaking now. He looks me up and down. I am a little embarrassed but I am even more titillated by his stare. I try not to look directly into his eyes. I really want to look like a submissive; but how to do that. I do not want to act like I am in control. I am not in control, but I am feeling a little more comfortable. I am still bound, gagged and naked and it seems natural.

Master stands and walks directly in front of me. I cower as I look up at him. The pole was laid down at my side so I have some freedom of movement. I arch my back to thrust my breasts up at him; my nipples are still stiff and now are pointing up toward him. I bow my head a bit and look up at him. I spread my knees apart. I am gushing with excitement as I kneel there looking up at him. He is my impassive and wordless master. I am his anxious slave. I have left my world behind and now we are alone here in the woods.

Master moves around and picks up the pole. He makes me stand and pushes me on, deeper into the woods. I am disappointed. I wanted him to use me. I would have sucked his dick for as long as he wanted – even longer. The warmth of submission has encircled my body. I am being pushed into the woods by this nameless maestro. Even without speaking, he is playing with my sensibilities like a virtuoso.

Master pushes me to move more quickly; I have to jog sometimes just to keep up at the pace he demands. The trail is not really a trail. It is mostly just a wide grassy area. The trees were not too dense and I could see a relatively long distance. However, all I can see are more trees! The trail veers away from the creek and vanishes behind a line of small knolls. The trail also looks more like a trail again – a grassless ribbon winding amongst the trees.

As we walk further, the trees now begin getting thicker. The light dims some as the canopy of leaves begins to coalesce into a green solid. Up ahead I can see a wall of rock and roots and dirt. There is a small waterfall and a small brook running off to the right – I presume it runs back into the creek we had just left behind. Beyond the waterfall I can see a broad opening in the tree covering and the sun is shining brightly. We turn the opposite direction and go to the left of the rocks. They swing around in a large arc. There is a path way going up the side of the rock and we walk up. The path opens up to a large flat grassy field with a higher rock wall maybe one hundred yards away. In between, I see a small house sitting by a pond that is feeding the waterfall we had just seen below. The house appears so out-of-place way back in this wilderness.

The house is a small white ranch and has a wooden deck that goes all the way around to the back. He stops me at the two steps that go up to the deck. I am panting from the tempo of our walk. He loosens the belt around my neck, removes it and sets the pole against the side of the deck. I notice two more similar poles standing there. He snaps his fingers and points; I follow him up the steps and onto the deck. We walk around the house to the back. The deck is wider in the back and there are steps that go down to the water. It appears to be a man-made pond.

Master leads me into the house. The living room has a wooden floor; there is a carpet in between a couch and two wing chairs. There is a cabinet behind the wing chairs. To the right I can see a small kitchen. There is a hallway immediately in front of me with several doors on either side. He walks down the hall; I dutifully follow. At the end of the hallway he stops and turns toward me. He meticulously looks me over – top to bottom. He turns me around and puts his hands on my waist. He moves his hands up to my breasts and moves them up under my breasts, as if he has to prop them up. He holds them there for a few seconds then moves his right hand and uses his fingers to squeeze my nipple while his left hand sweeps down to my butt cheek. I am melting in ecstasy as he fondles me.

Suddenly, Master stops, pushes his hand to the right and opens the door. Inside, I see a small bed. He pushes me inside and I stand by the bed. It not nearly big enough even for me; and it certainly could not hold both of us. The bed is unusually tall; there are circular wooden posts at each corner; the posts have thru-holes drilled at about four inch intervals. The bed has no blanket but is fitted with a sheet.

Master goes to the closet and picks up a small coil of rope. He takes me by the arm and makes me sit on the edge of the bed. He tosses the rope over a beam above the left side of the bed, and then loops it up over a similar beam to the right. That leaves a strand hanging on either side of each beam. Master unties my wrists; he holds onto my shoulder and makes me lay back on the bed. He takes hold of my hips and adjusts my butt just on the edge of the bed. That leaves my head hanging over the other end. The bed is even smaller than I thought. He picks up my right leg, pulls one of the strands hanging from the beam and ties it loosely around my ankle. He pulls up my other ankle and ties it too. He reaches up to the center of the rope directly above me; he pulls from each direction and spreads my legs into a 'V' shape. He ties it off tightly then tightens the knots around my ankles. He goes back to the closet and picks up three short pieces of rope. With the first, he loops it around my neck and ties it off to the frame of the bed. I can lean my head forward but cannot raise my neck off the mattress. He ties a loop around my left wrist, and then he stretches my arm out straight, laying it on the bed with my hand at the side of my hip. He pulls the other end of the rope straight down and ties it to the frame. He takes my other wrist and ties it down just as the first. My arms are pulled downward opposite the rope holding my neck. I look down at my body, lying here bound. My arms, pressed tightly to my side, push my breasts up into two milky mounds. They ripple with every slight twitch I make. He stands and looks over me. I must be blushing but I still love his scrutiny. It is so simple – a few ropes and a few knots, but in just a few short moments he has completely immobilized me and opened me up to his fancies. I want him to yearn for me. I am yearning for him.

Master walks around the bed studying me. He tightens the knot on the rope pulling my legs apart and spreads them just a little bit wider. How meticulous he is; he knows exactly how he wants me positioned. I watch in eager anticipation. He stands behind me and starts stroking the backs of my thighs. I quiver as he rubs me up and down. He runs a finger up the furrow of my wide-spread crack stopping to press it into my pussy. I groan. He alternately tickles my pussy and probes it with his finger. I can hardly endure the sensations. I am trembling all over. He stands straight up, takes his hands and holds the backs of my thighs at my knees. I am ready for him to plummet into me. I have been anticipating this moment. I try to extend my legs even wider as a further enticement. I am about ready to boil over in a surge of fulfillment.

Master steps back. I look up at him. He lets go of my legs. He pulls shut a black cover over the window. Then he walks out and shuts the door. Other than a dim sliver of light under the door, the room is pitch-black.

I am alone and cannot guess why he left me here. He had taken such care to pose me as I am. He deliberately aroused me. He abandoned me. The incongruity confounds my spirit.

***

I hear Master as he walks out. I can tell by the sound that he is on the deck. In a few seconds, that sound stops. Is he gone? Is he standing on the deck? Am I alone – really alone? I would look around but there is not enough light to see. The small patch of light coming up underneath the door is not even a decent night light. I am really alone. Abruptly, I hate being in the woods – alone – and in the dark. I am now isolated in this house. And where is my Master? Why did he leave me here alone?

It is so quiet in here.

There must be some sound somewhere. What about the birds? What about the crickets? What about the waterfall? I can hear nothing in here. I am drowning in silence. I cannot see anything. I have sunk into an abyss. I am restrained on a bed; my legs are stretched out in a wide 'V' shape. My arms are pulled tightly up against my sides; my breasts bulge up into the air like two splendid hillocks. But I can only sense that because I cannot see it. I am scared.

I am so lonely in here.

I am so aroused. I had wanted Master to have his way with me. I still want him. Where has he gone? I am overcome with pleasure at the prospect of being his slave. Something I never knew existed inside me has been stirred into a flurry of passion. I have become a submissive who has found her Master. But he has left me. I feel so remote. He left me alone in the dark.

It is so dark in here.

It is still afternoon outside. It is sunny. The forest is beautiful. The pond is beautiful. The trails are beautiful. It is all darkness in here, except for the sliver of light emanating from beneath the door.

Maybe this is the 'punishment'. I had been warned that if I was captured I would be subject to 'punishment'. This must be it. I am so frightened in here confined and abandoned.

I had always hated being in the woods at night. It all started when I was a kid. We lived next to a large forest; my brother and I still live in the same old farm house. One night I went for a walk into the woods. I crossed the wooden bridge over the creek that ran between our house and the woods.

Absentmindedly, I wandered around watching the squirrels and butterflies, admiring the trees, feeling the gentle breeze, smelling the flowers and enjoying the grass under my feet. When it occurred to me to notice where I was, I concluded quickly that I was lost. And it was getting dark. I stumbled around, crying and calling out for Mom and Dad.

It got dark very rapidly. I was a dumb kid and I was lost in the woods. I sat by a large tree and looked up in the sky. There was just a sliver of moon and it was so dark around me. I could not see anything. I sat there alone and in the dark. I did not know where to go. I was horrified. Then I heard some sound. Was that Mom and Dad searching for me?

I am jolted out of my daydream. There are footsteps. Yes, there are footsteps walking in the house somewhere. No, wait, wait --- they are coming down the hallway – slowly – steadily. They are heavier than my Master's footsteps. Someone else is in the house. I hear another door swing open and then slam shut. After a couple of steps, the sound stops again.

I am listening intently. There is someone in the house. There is someone in the room across the hall from me. I am laying here prone and utterly powerless. There is someone nearby who is not my Master.

A brief silence is broken by unintelligible mumbling. Maybe he is speaking. But who is he talking to? I remember: I saw two other poles outside just like the one that Master used to guide me here. Are there two more girls secured somewhere in this house? There must be! The house is substantial enough that I might not have seen them. We only went through two rooms; there were many other doors we never entered.

The mumbling stops. It is silent again.

Ack! I nearly jump out of my skin. That sound: it was a whack followed by a girl's shriek. My eyes are wide open, but, of course, I cannot see anything. My heart is racing. I do not want to think of what that sound was; but I know what it is.

I hear another whack and another shriek. No, it cannot be, it cannot be. Please, no, it cannot be. Whack! Shriek! Whoever came into the house is whipping a girl in the room across the hall! I begin to squirm. They are right next door to me. They are just across the hall. A girl is getting a hard pounding and I cannot move.

Whack! Shriek! I hear a girl's voice. It must be her. "I'm sorry Master. Please stop! Master, please stop! I am sorry. I did not mean to displease you," she implores in anguish.

Whack! Shriek! He is punishing her. He is disciplining her. He is adjusting her attitude. He is molding her as his subject. She has to learn a lesson. She has to know her place.

Whack! Shriek! I can hear him shouting at her, "You stupid bitch, don't you dare try to challenge me again."

She whimpers, "Master, please don't beat me anymore. I am so sorry. I did not mean to disappoint you."

Whack! Shriek! He shouts again, "I will stop whipping you when I am satisfied that you have learned your lesson."

Whack! Shriek! I am struggling madly to loosen my bonds. My Master has trussed me well. I cannot move. I can hear her crying out. Tears form in my eyes. I am ashamed that the tears are more in fear for me than they are in empathy for her.

Whack! Shriek! The blows she is taking are severe. I am feeling every one of them. They are grueling for me; I cannot imagine how painful they must be for her.

I stop and listen. It is silent again. It has stopped. I do not hear any more sobbing; maybe he has gagged her. There are the footsteps again. The door slams shut again. It is quiet for a few seconds; then the door on my room opens. I see his silhouette in the doorway. I lay fixed in horror.

He steps inside; he is a bit taller than my Master and broader through the chest and shoulders. He is carrying his coiled whip in his hand. In the light that shines through the door I can see he is dressed as all the others: black shoes, gray pants, no shirt with green vest, black mask. He walks around me and brushes my behind with the shank of his whip.

I am terrified out of my wits. I do not want him to whip me. I want my Master. Where is he? Why does my Master not step into the door and rescue me?

He brushes the shank over my belly and chest; he pokes my breasts lightly. He rubs me under my chin. He puts the shank onto my lips. He holds the whip above my face and brushes the strap over my face. I can almost make out a leer on his face. He lightly lays the strap over my throat as if it were a noose. He is toying with me; I am breathless with angst.

He recoils the whip and examines me. I should be an easy study. I am petrified. He is in control.

He walks back around behind me and stokes my legs softly with the whip shank. He directs it down to my ass and presses the knob onto my asshole. I jerk. He rotates the knob but does not press it inside me. The feeling is extremely uncomfortable but what could I do? I am defenseless.