A Roof Rack and Rope

While Sephira was sleeping still, he put a single column tie around each of her wrists and ankles. She stirred a little but Sir murmured a few Domly nothings at her and she simply smiled and relaxed again. It was easy enough to link her wrists together using carabiners through the bight of the single column wraps, and then the same treatment was applied to her ankles. He stepped out of the tent to prepare a few more things and let Sephira wake up to her predicament.

"Sir??" came her voice, still drowsy, from the tent. He declined to answer and finished positioning the slings under the front and rear tires of the truck, and around the front and rear metal supports of the heavy duty roof rack. When he ducked back through the tent flap, Sephira had struggled into a sitting position and was beginning to work away at the knots on her wrists with her teeth.

"What are you doing, wench?" His disapproval made her freeze and look up at him, guilty sass flashing from her eyes. Her bangs fell over her face and she blew them away, then tossed her head to the side.

"Getting away, Sir," she responded matter-of-factly. He chuckled and shook his head with a smile. He stepped to the side of their air bed and took her by the hair so she fell back. He pushed her head so that she faced him and captured her mouth with his, claiming his property.

"You're not going anywhere, my insatiable kitten. No, let me correct that. You're coming somewhere with me, right now." He slid an arm under her back and half-pulled, half-lifted her to her feet, using the ropes on her wrists for extra leverage. She teetered on the inflatable mattress and fell against him... conveniently. Her loose-necked t-shirt gave him an excellent view of her tits, but he was resolute in his purpose. Sir led Sephira, hobbled and bound, out of the tent. She winced as her bare feet scuffed over the gravel campsite surface, and tried to stand still, but Sir whacked her across the bottom and drove her forward again. Finally she reached the side of the truck and he pushed her against it.

"What the fuck, Sir? Ow that's hot!" The truck had been in the sun for a while, but it wasn't hot enough to damage her skin... just be quite uncomfortable. Sephira's language earned her a harder smack across the ass before Sir roughly spun her around and pressed his whole body into hers. His mouth roamed over her neck, biting and kissing. Sephira's annoyance softened as she was distracted by the pleasure of his hands pulling her hips into his, and feeling his passion. She responded with a little growling noise in her throat and tried to reach out for his shirt neck even though her hands were bound together.

"Hmm... may I touch the Sir please?" she murmured in his ear. Remembering his plan, he pulled away from her.

"No! In fact... you're done talking." Sir pulled out a scarf from his back pocket and deftly tied it around her head, through her open mouth. He grinned evilly at the surprise in her eyes at the rapid turn of events, and her muffled "what the!" which was cut short by a quick jerk of the scarf ends he was tying behind her head. Sephira began to turn her body again, pulling her arms to one side, but he grabbed her wrists and held them up in front of her. "Trapped, aren't you, little one?"

"Mmmrmmffkk" came the answer, along with a cheeky glare. Sir didn't mind the sass, as he knew it would soon be replaced by more agreeable responses. He used his body to hold Sephira in place against the truck while he clipped her wrists onto the slings attached to the roof rack. Putting an extra knot into the slings shortened them up so that Sephira was pleasantly pulled open. She looked left and right at the ties and pulled at them, grumpily testing her captivity. Sir watched with amusement for a while - Sephira was not one to accept bonds, and always had to try for escape, but he was quite sure of his work.

His next step was to use the ankle ropes on each of Sephira's legs, looped through the slings that were trapped by the weight of the truck on the tires. By sliding the ropes through carabiners on each sling, he could apply mechanical advantage to spreading his kitten wide open. He stood in front of her, just a few feet away, and pulled at each of the ropes at the same time. Her bare feet were pulled apart on the sandy gravel - really, a minor extra perk of the campsite - until she was spread-eagled across the side of the truck. A picture-perfect moment, spoiled only by her sloppy t-shirt and running shorts.

No problem really, though. Sir flipped open his camping knife and stepped up close to his struggling girl. He flashed the knife in her face a little, just to watch the worried look pass through her eyes. How gratifying. Then he made short work of the t-shirt, splitting it right down the front and tearing it away from her body. Her eyes darkened and she lowered her eyes to look at herself. That moment came... the moment when her indignation at the situation clicked over into embarrassment because she recognized her growing excitement. He could see her posture change and her breathing deepen and slow. Excellent.

The removal of her shorts and panties went a little slower. He teased the knife point up the inner thigh as she squirmed and then froze still as the blade passed beside her mound, slitting the cotton of her panties with the razor-sharp edge. He pulled them away from her and held them up to show her the evidence of her weakness for him.

"Look at these, kitten. You've wet and ruined another pair of panties, since you can't control that horny little pussy. At this rate you won't have any panties left at all by the time we go home."

Sephira hunched her shoulders and looked away, abashed. It was true, what he said - he'd cut off three pairs of panties already, after finding them wet in the crotch. Two of them were from making out, but the third time she'd just been watching him chop wood for the campfire. He'd caught her blatantly staring and bent her across the picnic table to teach her a little modesty with a spanking; pulling aside the crotch of her panties to pinch her clit, he'd found the evidence of her wanton lust, and she ended up bare for the rest of that night. The memory of it was fresh in Sephira's mind.

Sephira was now naked and spread across the side of the SUV like a rather kinky version of a calendar girl. Her nipples had reddened and grown firm, and there was a flush of pink in the lips that poked out beneath her trimmed bush. Sir liked her to keep his pussy bare so that he could easily see the juices glistening as he tormented her. It was sport.

Sir knelt down now and looked at his pussy with interest. Having her legs spread made it so easy to watch as Sephira's lust overtook her. He smiled in satisfaction as she wiggled her hips and tried to twist and hide. The attempt earned her a finger-flick against her clit, and she moaned in surprised pain, behind her gag.

"That's my pussy, slut. You don't hide that from me." Another slap of her mound emphasized the point, and then he stood up. Surveying her with pleasure, he reached behind himself onto the picnic table and picked up his longest single-tail which he'd coiled there in preparation.

"You're such a delicious piece of flesh, you know that? My Sephira... my slutty little whore."

The words fell onto her like a sudden rain. She bowed her head again, her heart twisting... she hated objectification and knew that he'd arranged her like this parody of a muscle car girl just to have a little fun at her expense. But hearing the words... she was his... she couldn't clear the tiny jolt of pleasure that came with belonging to him.

He began to swing the whip and its tail traced lines of heat across her arms, outstretched, and her legs pulled apart. She closed her eyes and winced each time the air cracked around her. Counting her breaths kept the fear at bay as the whip danced around and across her.

"You look so beautiful with my lines showing up on you. Is it scary, kitten?"

She nodded, a little pitifully, and a tiny "yes, Sir" escaped her muffled mouth. He swung the whip a few more times and then let it rest at his side as he stepped up in front of her. Pressing his chest against hers, he slid his bearded chin alongside hers and whispered in her hear: "The fear makes you wet, doesn't it?" She nodded again. "Yessss... my pussy gets wet, I know. I can smell it." He smiled sinfully and pulled away.

Sephira looked as if she wished to disappear. Her shoulders pulled and her feet scrabbled at the ground, trying to gain traction to resist the bondage. Sir watched as humiliation flickered across her face, then leaned in again. "Now you want it, don't you? That pussy is aching for it... I can tell. It's my pussy, so I know how much it wants..." he pulled back again. Sephira's eyes met his, great pools of helpless need. He nodded slowly and spoke more: "You want it so much that you'll take it up against this truck, wouldn't you?" She moaned, and he could see her fighting the desire to beg him. She would soon, he knew.

"Do you want more with the whip, kitten? Does my little pain slut want more pain instead?" He asked in an ironic voice, knowing the answer was both yes and no. She started babbling something which the gag turned unintelligible.

"Kitten, you seem to be having trouble communicating. Perhaps this will help..." he reached up and took each of her nipples in his fingers and pulled, twisting. Her eyes closed up tight and she squealed aloud. When he stopped, she opened her eyes again and he saw tears there, but even more arousal. He chuckled at her frustration - she was making sounds behind the gag but it was coming out nonsense.

"What are you saying, slut? Are you horny from all this?" His voice rose in taunting. She nodded her head, eyes closed again in shame.

"You're tied spread-eagled to a truck, whipped by your Sir, and you're hornier than ever? Is that it?" More pitiful nods. He leaned in again, holding the nipples tight, and whispering this time.

"Do you want to be fucked, like this?"

Sephira hung her head and sniffled, a tear running down her cheek.

"That's so dirty.... that's such a dirty slut thing to want." He could sense the sob welling up in her, but by her breathing and how she held her chest up to his hands that he also had a very hungry woman in his power.

"All right, you can tell me... tell me what's going through your mind. Tell the truth now - Sir will know if you're lying. Tell me what my hungry, slutty little kitten wants," he invited. His hands reached up and freed the scarf away from her mouth, pulling it down onto her neck. Sephira panted, staring down at the crook of his shirt where she could see his chest - that skin which bewitched her.

"Tell it to me, slut," this time he ordered. His voice sliced into her and all the need and shame and fear balled up in the back of her throat so it felt like she was mute. When she didn't answer right away, his hand caught her jaw and lifted it up so she was forced to look at him. The other hand went down to his pussy and roughly grabbed it up. She felt his energy... felt the lines of his whip and the ache in her thighs from standing spread-eagled... felt the stones digging into her feet. She felt the wetness begin to seep out of her pussy and slide down her thigh.

Her voice shook: "I want to be fucked, Sir... like your dirty whore." It was barely a whisper.

"And what do you say? What's the right way to ask your Sir.... to fuck such a dirty slut, who begs for it, on the side of a dirty truck, in the woods?"

Her eyes glinted wildly as she looked deeply into his and found her voice among the shards of her dignity: "Please FUCK me Sir... please FUCK your slutty whore. Please make me CUM on the side of this truck!" Her voice got stronger as she spoke until finally she cried out: "FUCK me Sir... PLEASE FUCK ME NOW!"

"YES, kitten!" He shouted. With one hand he undid his jeans and slid them off, while the hand buried in his slut's pussy worked her hard, spreading the juices around. He leaned over and unclipped one of her ankles and pushed her knee up, making space to come up under her and drive his cock into the pussy that welcomed him so fervently.

Sir fucked her hard, holding her arms back against the truck and pounding into her with abandon. Her body shook with each thrust and she cried out in mad passion, begging him to go on: "yes, harder, please, harder!" Several times she tensed up and cried for permission: "please Sir may I cum please?" He growled his assent and continued to ravage her. As her body grew more and more languid, he finally finished - with a few slow, vigorous thrusts, he emptied his load into her cunt.

"That's my dirty whore," he whispered in her ear as she panted for air. "That's my good girl."