He Said Run

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She tried to outrun him in the woods and failed.
1.6k words
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She ran. He followed.

Fallen branches tore at her ankles as she ran barefoot through the thick woods. Her feet ached from running over twigs and sharp stones in her mad dash for escape. They were probably bleeding, she felt sharp pains every time she pivoted around a corner, but she couldn't slow down to check.

He was behind her, somewhere in the dark. And he was going to catch her.

The rain, a light drizzle when he'd looked her in the eyes after their date and ordered her to, "run, and don't get caught," was a torrent now. Her hair stuck to her forehead and obscured her vision. What the hair didn't block from view the sheets of rain made impossible to see.

She didn't know how long she had been running, but she knew she was tiring quickly. Now that she was no longer moving, the cold was starting to set into her bones. She shivered. A hiding place. That was the only solution now.

Pushing her wet hair back with both hands, she surveyed her surroundings. There wasn't much to lift her spirits. She had left the path awhile back so there was nothing but large trees and a few giant bounders to hide behind. She was lost, she was cold, and she was hopelessly alone.

For now.

Until he found her.

She suddenly thought she heard footsteps behind her, branches cracking under heavy boots, and took off sprinting as fast as her wounded feet could manage. The direction didn't matter, she just needed to get away. She ran blindly, slipping on the muddy ground until she finally lost her balance and fell with a grunt. Her hands slid across a carpet of pine needles as she tried to push herself up. Her dress was covered in muck, and she was lucky she managed to catch herself before her face ended up filthy as well.

She was a mess, but she didn't have time to dwell on it. He was coming.

The fall made her stop again and look around while she regained her breath. The trees were smaller here, and she spotted one with low branches just a little higher than her arms could reach while standing. It had been years since she even attempted to climb a tree, but it was the only option.

She dashed over to the tree, glancing over her shoulder and seeing nothing but trees and rain and mist. Her heart pounded in her throat as she reached the tree.

Reaching her hands above her head, she bent her knees and jumped straight up. It was only a little jump. There was a moment, her fingertips brushing the bark of the branch, where she remembered successfully doing 24-inch box jumps at the gym. That jump had been on a dry wooden floor, this one landed her back in the mud.

She let out a cry and scrambled to her feet. The noise was a mistake, but she didn't have time to see if she had been heard. Bending her knees further this time, she prepared to jump for the branch again. Her feet left the ground without sliding this time, and she felt her hands close around the branch. There was a rush of pride before she found herself somehow colliding with something solid from the side.

He'd found her.

She let go of the branch as he slowly lowered her to the ground. Her hands, still above her head, were in the perfect position for him to grip her wrists and pin them to the trunk of the tree. She felt the rough, damp, bark scrape the backs of her hands as he pressed her hard.

He lowered his head to her neck and bit down. Hard. She screamed and he made no effort to silence her. There wasn't any need to - there was no one around for miles. That's why he'd set the chase here.

Holding her wrists with one hand, he kicked her legs apart and forced the other under her short summer dress. She struggled against his hands, but he was too strong.

With one motion he tore her panties off as she screamed again. They seemed to be the only thing she wore that wasn't covered with mud. A fact she was grateful for when he shoved them roughly into her open mouth. The lace was soft and wet against her tongue. She could taste herself on them.

His mouth was back on her neck now, sucking and biting a path down to the neckline on her dress. When she put it on this morning it was a white dress with jet black buttons down the front. It was the perfect dress for a dinner date "and a game," as he had put it. Now it was just a wet muddy mess, and after he tore it open, buttons flying over the forest floor, it was nothing more than a useless rag.

He growled when he saw her tits fall free of the dress. No bra. If she'd known about all the running tonight would involve then she would have put one on. His hands groped her breasts, pinching and twisting the nipples until she screamed, a sound muffled by her panties. He bit her shoulder, and she knew she'd see the marks tomorrow. She could feel her thighs getting sticky and wet and blushed.

Good girls didn't get wet from things like this.

She felt wild. Out of control. The world seemed to tilt, and it took her a moment to realise that it was because he'd pulled one arm to the side, knocked her off balance and taken her to the ground.

There was a brief moment on the ground when she was looking directly into his eyes. They were so dark. Narrowed as he looked at her like a hungry animal, full of need. She whimpered. The moment didn't last.

Growling again, he flipped her over. She felt the wet ground under her chest, nipples hardening in the cold mud. He straddled her hips and pinned her tightly, pressing one hand in the middle of her back to keep her from twisting. It took all her strength to keep her face clean and off the ground. Behind her, she could hear the clink of his belt, the rasp of his zipper.

She tried to take advantage of his diverted attention and escape, wriggling fruitlessly under him, digging her fingers into the earth for purchase. Without a word he leaned forward and buried both hands in her hair, pulling her head back hard to look at him. Her neck ached, her scalp burned, and then he was shoving her face into the mud. And he laughed. Cruelly.

It was the first sound she'd heard out of him that wasn't a growl. And it was a laugh. A laugh that made her wail, helpless and pinned to the ground. Her panties fell out of her mouth and tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes.

He slid off her hips to sit across her thighs and pulled her skirt up over her ass. She felt his fingers slide inside of her on the first try. No resistance. Just one finger. Then two. She could feel him working a third into her, but he didn't have to work hard.

She moaned at the invasion. Her brain wanted this to stop. It was humiliating. Degrading. But her body wanted no such thing, and she was horrified to realise she was pushing back onto him. He was hardly moving at all, just letting her fuck herself on his fingers with her face in the mud.

She let out a choked sob, tears flowing freely now, and forced herself to stop moving. The rain had soaked her dress, she was cold and shivering on the ground, but her pussy was hot and wet and waiting.

His fingers suddenly withdrew, and she felt empty. She lifted her head and tried to turn it, but he pressed it back down as he slid his cock inside her at the same time. He filled her completely, and she moaned. This time from the feeling of fullness, and the desire for more.

He leaned over her, pinning her wrists to the ground and claimed her. Thrusting in and out of her, biting the back of her neck, whispering filthy words into her ear while he fucked her into the mud.

"Bitch."

"Slut."

"Whore."

"Fucktoy."

She moaned and gasped underneath him as he showered her with abuse. Her nails were filthy from digging her fingers into the ground, her face was covered in muck. And she didn't care. She pushed back onto him as he sped up.

She could feel him getting close, his breath ragged in her ear. Something deep inside her cried out for him to use her, mark her, fill her. Then she heard it,

"Mine."

Suddenly, she felt him pull his cock out of her. She felt the cool air hit her hot wet cunt instead of the warmth of his body pressed tightly against hers. He grunted and moaned behind her and, instead of feeling him fill her up, she felt his cum cover her ass. She whimpered and squirmed as it hit her in spurts.

Then it was over. The woods quiet and still except for the sound of falling rain.

She felt his fingers gently rub his cum into her ass, and he whispered, softly:

"Mine."

Then, without another word, he got to his feet, zipped his jeans, and strode away from her through the forest. She pressed herself up on hands and knees, stood slowly, and watched him for a moment before making a decision.

He walked. She followed.

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3 Comments
Dark358Dark358over 1 year ago

"He walked. She followed." ...powerful

AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

Omfg

AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

Part 2?

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