Trepidation

I go over the steps once more in my head.

Master said I was to leave the cabin for my walk by eight. The sun would be setting, and there wouldn't be much traffic leading to the secluded cabin that he rented for the weekend.

We have been talking about this for months. A fantasy that we both couldn't let go.

We kept our lives a secret. Nothing personal was ever said. And he only showed me pieces of himself when he deemed I was worthy. He said he wanted to see the real fear in my eyes the first time I saw his face.

He wasn't a beautiful hero.

He was a monster.

A hunter.

And I was about to be his prey.

I check my Apple watch; The Mickey Mouse screen clock reading seven fifty-eight.

I pull in a deep breath. Expanding my ribs as far as its comfortable. Holding for ten, and releasing.

I have no control of the nervousness that festers in the pit of my stomach. At this point I think it's out right fear.

We discussed things that were not allowed. I didn't want permanent scars, and he had to agree upon the ultimate after care. I know I will need it.

Light cutting of the skin, burning with wax, and some electric play was ok, and agreed upon.

He gave me orders through messages, demanding I show proof that I followed through.

If I obeyed he praised me and made me feel like the most valuable person in the world.

If I didn't. He didn't hold back on the taunting, degrading words. He made me write sentences and send proof.

One time he made me do it while I had a dildo inside me, and I wasn't allowed to cum for a week after that.

It was pure, delectable, torture.

His favorite thing to do is make me write the degrading words on my body, while he watches on camera. I can hear him cum. See his hard cock. But he never shows his face. Tonight, that will change.

I still have words CUM SLUT written across my tits from not having enough to eat two days before and drinking too much wine. I got mouthy. Bad Idea.

I grab my water bottle off the table, put my headphones in. Another command from Master.

He said he wanted to get rid of my senses. I was to listen to my music as loud as it would go, so I didn't hear him approaching. And if I didn't obey even the slightest detail, it would only intensify what I already had coming.

I run down the three steps that lead off the wrap around porch. The white porch swing sways in the gentle wind.

Red and yellow leaves stir. Adding color to the gloomy evening.

Dress By Taylor Swift blasts in my ears. I try my best to center my attention on the familiar, sensual lyrics. But it does nothing to combat the mixed feelings running through me. My body is on auto pilot at this point.

Running off the adrenaline from fear.

Excitement.

He told me to wear the shortest shorts that I had, no bra, and a white shirt. Specifically, so he can see the filth on it after I fight him. He liked that I would have less clothing to protect against scratches from any brush if I was to fight back.

That thought should leave me running, but it only makes the wetness between my legs accumulate and spread through my folds.

He claimed he'd be able to smell my arousal mixed with my sweat, like a predator could it's prey.

He is sadistic. But damn if he doesn't say the right things to make me feel like a princess.

His princess.

I smile at the thought. I don't know the details, so I'm not sure when he will attack.

He gave me my route and told me to run. But to not use all my energy right away. I'd need it to fight.

I take in the heavily forested area around me and try not to think too much about the fact that he could be watching me this very moment.

I have a thought or two about having a heart attack or something, and I can't help but giggle.

My playlist carries on in my ears.

Whore By In This Moment begins playing, and the irony isn't ignored.

It happens when I finally get thoughts of him out of my head, and I feel safe.

A hand wraps around my throat pinching off any air that I attempt to pull into my lungs. They are screaming from the run. And now from panic.

His other arm wraps around my ribs and tits, crushing me to him.

My legs feel like Jello. But I try my best to fight him off. It doesn't take long before I realize there is no way out of the hold. When I move, his grasp on my throat only gets tighter. It becomes harder to not give in to the darkness that comes with the lack of air, but he seems to know the limits because he finds mercy before that point happens. He loosens up his grip, and I'm able to pull in a breath of air.

It gives me a fallacious sense of hope. An artificial security blanket.

I think he has given up and believes in my false submission, so I decide to put all my energy into one last fight. I rear my elbows back to only be pushed forward into the ground with his counter force.

I can't hear my cries over the music. But I know my knee is busted, and my hands are scraped. The usual burning pain I'd feel from them is nonexistent. My body is in fight or flight.

I crawl a few inches before he grabs me by the ankle. I'm weightless compared to his strength as he pulls me effortlessly to him. My shirt rides up against the ground scraping my nipples against the pebbles on the road.

I feel his weight on my back, and soon enough his mouth is at my ear. He removes the earbud with his teeth, spitting it onto the ground beside us. Noises from the outside world rush in, overstimulating me further.

It's too much.

I thought I was strong enough for this, but I'm not.

I'm weak and pathetic.

I hear myself sobbing, and it's then that I feel the dirt sticking to my face with the makeshift glue that my snot and tears have created.

I remain still.

Until I feel his breath in my ear. The sensation is like someone running a feather down my delicate neck resulting in the most delicious brain tingles. It's calming.

I remember words he told me to hang onto that would help me get through this.

...I want to play with you, not take away your humanity. There will always be small signs that you are safe...

"Hello Princess." The name is familiar. Almost sheltering. He plants a rough kiss against my cheek bringing me back to the here and now. Taking away that comfort quicker than he gave it.

Already taking so much from me.

My sobs get louder, and my tears fatter. I've lost control of my emotions, the efforts to manipulate them myself are fruitless.

The crotch of my shorts is sticky with my arousal. I'm needy.

It makes me feel sick.

Twisted.

Dirty.

As if he can read my thoughts, he pushes his hard cock against my ass. "I should slam into you with no mercy so I can hear your screams echo through the trees." A shiver rakes through my spine. "I bet you'd like that wouldn't you?" His tone is taunting.

I bite back a moan as his words cause something to flip in my stomach.

Fear and pleasure knot together in a crescendo of butterflies that threaten to all take flight at once.

Like a stingy whore I want to take more from him. I want his emotionless tone to turn as needy as I feel.

"Help!" I start screaming. My hoarse voice does in fact echo through the trees.

I buck my pelvis off the pavement trying everything I can to get the sadistic bastard off me.

My reaction seems to only humor him. His malevolent chuckle makes me feel uneasy. "You look like a desperate whore fucking the ground." His hand tangles in my ponytail as he lifts my head.

His free hand effortlessly pulls my shorts down enough to expose my ass. "Have you come to terms that no one is going to save you? They'll just see what I see. A desperate whore that needs to be filled." I feel as he drags the head of his cock through my drenched cunt. "You're so wet for me, it's going to make this next part so much easier."

I don't have time to even panic about it. He slams into me swiftly, without mercy. An unrecognizable sound bellows from deep in my throat. A stinging discomfort coerces more tears from my swollen eyes.

They are pointless because he loves my tears.

He's winning, and none of my bratty antics will work here. It's much easier to top from the bottom behind a screen. But in actuality, I'm at his mercy.

At first, I hate the pain, there isn't anything pleasurable about it. I feel too full, there isn't enough simulation where it's needed.

I feel like I'm stretched to my limits and will be ripped apart.

He keeps his pace unhurried, and forceful. To my surprise the more he fucks me, the better it feels. The discomfort is melting away into a superior sensation. He may not be hitting the normal places with the force of his movements, but the new sensations are worth the absence of the familiar.

He releases an animalistic growl before he wraps his hand around my throat and pulls me up against his body. My throat is like a twig in his large hand, he could break me if he wanted to, and the reminder only thrills me more.

His movements halt, but he is still buried inside me. The hasty cessation frustrates my need and want to cum. It's tempting to release a growl of my own.

"I'm going to stand up and watch as you play with that tight cunt and cum for me. Make it good because it may be a while before you get the chance again." He wraps a blindfold around my eyes. I was going to finally see his face.

He took it away.

It's as if he's feeding an insatiable appetite by taking away every piece of my dignity.

He pulls out of me, and I feel empty.

"Cum for me princess. It may be the last time for awhile. You know I enjoy making you wait."

I know he means that. I can beg him, hit, and scream. If he says no.

It's final.

Begging will only make matters worse.

I flip onto my back. The pain in my scraped knees is no longer possible to ignore.

A wave of nausea quakes my composure. I almost have to say the word to end this all.

Villain

His words are loud in my foggy brain...If it's said, everything stops, and we move onto selfcare...

I pull in several deep breaths and try to recenter myself.

"You look beautiful right now." His voice has the usual calming effect that melts me and sends tingles to my toes. It helps bring me back to stability. It alone coaxing a moan from within. "At my mercy." He growls. I feel him crouch in front of me. "You did such a good job. Good girl."

The mesmerism is forthwith. I begin rubbing my clit. Slow circles around the sensitive ball of nerves.

I dip into the arousal that escapes my center, spreading it through my folds. I hope it's visible to him.

Overwhelming concupiscence urges a want to be filled by him again. My back arches off the hard ground as I push harder into my hand.

I'm greedy for the possessiveness and superiority that he radiates when he touches me as he takes. It nearly feels vital to my release.

He won't give it though. Not now. He'll ignore his own needs just to inconvenience me. He feeds off that kind of thing. It's essential to who he is.

I hear him stand and shuffle around me. The sound of his zipper is like an echo.

I'm hypersensitive to everything that is my Master.

Pulled to him like gravity.

I want to put on a show.

To please him.

It doesn't matter how much self-control he has, how disciplined he thinks he is.

He's still human.

His anatomy works all the same.

My movements quicken, as I audaciously chase my release.

"I can see your muscles tensing; your release is close isn't it."

My voice is unrecognizable as I moan out my response. "Yes." Stars begin to litter the darkness I see around the blindfold.

The intense ball in my stomach is unraveling, exposing beautiful and delicious sensations. I feel almost high off adrenaline. The chase of my release is the only thing that matters.

"Yes what?" His voice is broken and shaky piquing my curiosity. I don't have time to dwindle on it before he bellows out a growl. I hear him all around me, and I'm not lost in the irony.

He IS everywhere.

Always.

Rather he is thousands of miles away or buried inside me.

He is the puppet master of my desires. The sovereign of my pleasure.

"Master." Slips off my tongue as I start to feel warm ropes of something on my face and chest. He's cumming. The action should be degrading, but it only aids in my fervent release.

The stars I've been chasing explode as my eyes clamp closed. It's as if my soul has left my body and I'm in a different dimension of time and space.

I can feel light and see sound as the orgasm cuts through me like a force. My mind shatters, my body shakes, and I don't even hear the sounds escaping me.

My movements halt and the blissful ecstasy is stripped away faster than it was given when I feel something warm and wet rain down over my hand and cunt.

The bastard was pissing on me.

Marking me like territory.

He threatened it, prepared me for it. But I didn't think he'd actually follow through. Not like this.

...I'd heed all my warnings sweetheart. I don't just waste my breath on empty threats. I will mark you as mine in every way possible. I take what's mine. And you are mine. He growled...

His words made my stomach slam at the time, and the feeling isn't lost on me now.

The stream stops, and I hear his zipper again.

The world is silent for a moment, my heavy breathing the only sound within miles.

The incredible high hit it's peak, and now all the glorious feelings are crashing down.

Embarrassment starts to build, but the time is short to think on it before he picks me up like a piece of furniture. Effortlessly. He carries me somewhere as I'm cradled in his arms.

My body melts into dead weight as the exhaustion and soreness take over. I'm hyperaware of every discomfort, and I need it all gone now.

My wet shirt and shorts stick to me like a wetsuit. I feel sticky and dirty.

Used and beautiful.

His.

He opens a door to something, and I prepare for a rough impact when he sets me down. But it never comes. It's gentle.

The back of my head hits something soft. A blanket. I feel his fingers on my face as he frees me from the blindfold.

My eyes find his.

Brown.

Soft. But dangerous.

His face is gentle. Deceiving.

His lips are kissable.

My beautiful monster.

He smiles down at me as he pushes my hair out of my face. Several strands have dried into the mess causing a tug of my skin as it's pulled away.

"Are you ok?"

I nod my response. The ability to speak words is nonexistent in the moment.

"You are perfect." He hums in my ear. His praises always lift me up when I'm at the lows. They were never circumvented. Always genuine. Caring.

He grabs a damp washcloth from somewhere and begins cleaning me the best he can. His steady hand starts with gentle swipes at my face, they then move to my clothing, discarding the dilapidated pieces of fabric somewhere in his vehicle. The inside looks like a jeep or something. It's fitting.

I watch his every movement mesmerized in silence taking advantage of this soft side of him. He is delicate and attentive.

"I'll clean and doctor your hands and knees at the cabin after you have a bath." His lips lift in a devious smile. "I may let you rest before we play again, but I wouldn't count on it."

He spreads another warm blanket over my exposed body before closing the door and pulling down the glass.

We travel back to the cabin in silence. I relax in the warmth of the soft blanket.

Something in me seems to be fulfilled and complete.

I feel changed in a way.

And I can't wait to see what my big bad wolf has planned next for us...