In the Wilds Ch. 04

S had thought that, at last, this would mean H would end her long enforced abstinence. But two days had passed since her collaring, and H had made no further moves to relieve her need beyond occasionally fingering her or massaging her breasts as he pressed into her from behind, never bringing her to completion, only whispering "soon" as he withdrew from her hungry body.

She thought she might truly be going insane. She was sure she was in heat again. At this point, it had been just over one month since H had captured and subdued her. True, her overall quality of life had greatly improved. Her hair was softer, her body rounding about her thighs, chest, and middle thanks to regular meals, and she felt stronger. Perhaps something to do with the pills she took each day. But when would she be called upon to legitimize her slavery to H? She coveted L's easy and regular exchanges with H. If L so much as wriggled her ass in H's direction in the morning, H was boring into her before S could even pour their coffee.

H often told S that she should meditate on her new status as his slave, anticipating not only the day he would legitimize her, but her every day following until she too proudly wore seven twists in her collar. S tried, but more often her thoughts took their own paths.

It was a hot and airless evening that found S making the quarter mile trek behind the house with the trash to the heap - a routine expectation she fulfilled twice a week for the house. Usually she saw little else on these walks than the occasional lizard skittering to the shelter of a rock, or the sudden frantic sprint of a hare across the dust. But today, as she squinted ahead at the heap, she saw the larger movement of a human.

S paused momentarily, as the person had not spotted her yet. The man was noticeably wane, even from a distance, rummaging through the trash heap for any usable food or piece of scrap to make a shelter. S shifted the bag of trash to the ground, which created a small clatter from its contents. The man immediately alerted and whipped around to face her.

S was afraid, but not for the reasons she anticipated. The man posed little physical threat to her. S had lived in the wild long enough to learn how to make quick work of predators. She reached inside the trash bag, closing her hand around an empty glass bottle. Her eyes met his to find they were sunken and hollow. S was afraid because his hungry gaze lit her on fire.

It was not a decision as much as instinctive impulse. The man closed the distance between them swiftly but stopped short of an arm's length from S. S raised the bottle slowly from the bag and then placed it on the ground. She wouldn't be needing it. She eyed the man's growing bulge under his stained shorts. He smelled of sweat and other worse things, but the ache between her thighs was overriding every objection. In a moment, he was on top of her. S twisted beneath him on her knees as he pulled aside her shorts and panties, his bony hands clawing at her legs and hips before pushing himself into her. The relief was unbearable. S locked her arms against the rough dirt and pushed herself back onto him with every thrust. Grunting like animals, they rutted for only a few precious minutes until S felt him burst inside her. He began to pull out but S reached behind her and clawed his backside to her until, a few thrusts later, she too came.

Standing, she looked at the man still on his knees in the dirt. Filthy, disgusting. His limp cock dribbling onto the red desert ground. S felt a wave of nausea overwhelm her and she turned to vomit. Wiping her hand across her mouth, and then between her legs to clear his leaking cum, she shouldered the trash and walked the rest of the way to the heap, depositing it there. By the time she returned the man was still kneeling, wheezing, on the ground. S picked up the bottle, smashed it against a rock, and held it at him. He scrambled away until S could no longer see him in the falling dark of evening.

In the yard, S used the hose to clean herself of the man's stench and cum. A cold panic was rising in her. What had she just done? H could never, ever find out. She waited until her hands stopped noticeably shaking to enter the house. By the time she entered the bedroom, she was sure every aspect of her composure was in place.

H was just stepping out of the shower and L was sitting on the bed, brushing her damp hair. S's shower was always after theirs, but as she strode to the bathroom, H caught her about the waist.

"Be sure to clean behind your ears, my pet." He winked and gave her a slap on the ass before letting her go. S scrubbed every inch of her body twice over with water so hot she was practically pink upon exit.

By bedtime S was positive H had no indication anything unusual had transpired to make this night any different from another. He seemed in an unusually good mood as he gathered L and S to him in bed. S had been granted the end of the massive bed at which there was her down pillow and soft, plush blanket. This was her third night sleeping at their feet, and though more comfortable than her crate, she was yearning for her future spot beside H. Content and exhausted, S took her medicines from H and fell quickly asleep.

It was quite a shock, then, to be woken in the early hours of the night with a bright light shining in her face. S shivered and blinked in confusion. She was entirely naked and chained by her feet and neck to two posts in an empty expanse of desert about 50 yards away. Her restraint was such that she had to remain either lying down or on her hands and knees, as the chain connecting to the base of the post was too short to allow her to stand. H shifted the flashlight from directly in front of her, and even half-blinded S could see the fury in his face, which wasn't even half matched by the fury in his voice.

Tight. Controlled. Cold. "I was going to give you everything."

He knew. Of course he knew. How could he not? Had he not spent every waking moment studying her, just as S had him? The cold wash of dread bloomed in S's gut and she felt nauseated again.

"You only had to wait two more days, you stupid cunt." H was pacing in the dark, body taught with fury. "What the fuck do you think those pills are for?"

H knelt down to face S eye-level, "You'd better hope that animal's cum didn't take or we are going to have a bigger problem than you think you're in right now."

S started to open her mouth when H grabbed her by the jaw. "No. Don't speak. I don't want to hear a thing come out of your filthy fucking mouth. In fact..." H held up a key, "This is the only way you're going to communicate tonight." H shoved the key in her mouth and clamped her jaw shut. The bitter taste of metal soured in her mouth and she began to pant through her nose, her heart beating rapidly.

"That's to your cuffs. If you want your freedom so badly, spit it out and I'll release you to those stinking fucking ferals you open your legs to any chance you get."

S's eyes began to water with tears of both anger and shame.

"Otherwise this is your only remaining chance to show me I didn't make a mistake thinking I could turn a rabid, mangy street cunt into a proper slave."

H turned, walked a few feet away and sat on a rock. S glimpsed his still furious face in a brief flare as he lit a cigarette - something S had never seen him do before. S moved the key in her mouth with her tongue, trying to find a more comfortable position for it, hurting her teeth as it clacked against them. She kept her eyes fixed on H's as she watched the light of his cigarette slowly fade into nothingness, willing H to look at her again and see the regret in her eyes. But H did not look up again as he lit another cigarette.

What felt like hours, but was only perhaps thirty minutes, passed as S shifted her weight on her hands and knees, trying to find some relief, mouthing the key she still held on her tongue. Would H make her spend all night like this? And the next day? She would have wondered if he had fallen asleep sitting there, except that she felt a palpable disgust emanating from him, like suffocating smoke that burned her nostrils and seeped into her body.

S's head began to fall to her chest as she struggled to remain awake when she heard a shuffling of footsteps nearby. Snapping her head up, she saw H looking in the direction behind her. S attempted to follow suit by craning her neck around, but this was made impossible by the collar.

S's eyes grew wide when she felt rough arms grab her waist and pull her backward, the awareness of a thick and erect cock bobbing against her leg. She looked at H. H stared coldly back at her in the glow of yet another cigarette. Now she understood.

S sucked air through her teeth as she felt the stranger's hand wrap into her hair, wrenching her head backwards, making her choke on the key. He smelled unwashed and his hot breath rotten. She was sure he was feral as she once was. His other hand grabbed at her breasts unkindly, squeezing and pulling until S let out a muffled yell. H remained unmoved, unblinking.

The wild man's cock grew even harder at her sounds of protest and he moved in front to her mouth. From the darkness, H spoke, "Not there." The wild man paused, then moved back behind S, who was indescribably relieved for the key in her mouth that prevented her from having to pleasure what smelled like rotting meat. The relief was short-lived. S felt pressure at her asshole and began to wail through clenched teeth.

There was no gentleness in what followed. Stretched beyond what she thought she could endure, the man entered her in one thrust, though the lack of lubrication only allowed the head of his member to breach her virgin asshole. The man grunted as he unsuccessfully attempted to fit more of himself inside S until he finally withdrew, made a hacking sound, and S felt warm saliva hit her. His fingers probed and rubbed at her clumsily before he forced his way into her asshole once again. Tears streamed down S's face, nose running, as snot mingled with saliva that escaped her gritted teeth.

S felt a part of her tear. The edges of S's vision began to blur and she feared if she passed out, she would lose hold of the key. She forced herself to remain conscious and finally locked eyes with H, who stood watching the scene before him, his own eyes now passionateless. "Spit out the key," H spoke in a low tone, "And I will end it." The temptation to do as H suggested was overwhelming and yet...

S kept her eyes locked with H and began to rock slowly back and forth on her hands and knees to the rhythm of the man fucking her from behind. Each thrust was agony, as she felt she was being split apart and could feel a warm trail of blood running down her inner thigh. The man, now encouraged by her participation, began pumping harder and faster. S could not keep from screaming and almost lost the key before biting it hard. "Spit, bitch!" H called tauntingly. When she reopened her eyes, H's were inches from hers where he knelt on the ground, reanimated and glittering with some kind of emotion S couldn't decipher.

The wild man came with a massive thrust that almost caused S to headbutt H who grabbed her chin and covered her mouth with his in a rough, cruel kiss. S felt the warm, sticky explosion inside her as her stomach churned. He pumped three more loads into her before withdrawing. S felt herself burning where his cum seeped into her wound and she sobbed as both the man and H drew away.

H pulled a gun from his waistband that S had never seen, and for one wild moment, thought was meant for her. H pointed it at the man who quickly rose to his feet and fled. H returned the gun to his waist and put his hand under S's mouth. "Spit."

S opened her mouth and let the key fall into his palm. H unlocked her leg shackles first, then the chain linked to her neck. S stood clumsily, stiffly. Her knees and palms were scrapped open and bleeding, dirt and pebbles embedded in the wounds. Taking a step, she fell back to the ground, her legs cramping and shaking. "You'll crawl if you have to," were the only words H spoke. Rising back up slowly, S took another few steps. The two began walking toward the house in the early light of dawn, S stumbling forward and H following silently, slowly, behind.