by S. J. Lewis
“Yeah, we know. Look, you wanna clean up a little?”
Another big yawn. “I’d love it,” she replied. “But how?”
“There’s a creek over that ways a little bit,” I pointed. “We built a rock-lined pool for it years ago. The water shouldn’t be too cool.”
“I’m not used to roughing it,” she said. “Could you show me where it is?”
“I’d show you anyway,” I said as I shouldered my shotgun. “Sometimes there’re bears in the woods. You need an escort.”
“Bears?” She came more fully awake.
“Yeah. That’s why we take turns keeping watch in the night.” I picked up the battery powered lantern and tossed her a pair of flip-flops. “You’ll need these,” I said.
“Couldn’t you just let me wear my own shoes?”
“Nope,” I shook my head.
She looked up at me. The firelight gave her skin a ruddy look, as if she was blushing all over. “All right,” she shrugged. “Show me the bath.” She threw back the top of the sleeping bag and slid the flip-flops onto her feet before she stood up. She faced me. It was clear that she was trying to act nonchalant about her circumstances. I let my eyes roam over her naked body. She tried very hard not to cover herself with her hands, and just barely succeeded. She had only a vague idea what the next week held for her, but she seemed determined to face it head-on. She showed a lot of promise.
I got the battery-powered lantern and snagged a towel for her. “Follow me,” I said to her before I set out along the narrow trail that led to the pool.
“Is it far?” she asked from behind me. “I already feel like I’ve run a marathon.”
“Not far,” I called back over my shoulder. They always seem to want to talk to somebody, anybody, after we’ve initiated them. We let them ramble on as much as they want. We never say any more than seems necessary to lubricate their talking. Later on we’d teach them to keep silent unless and until we spoke directly to them.
I heard her following me. Every so often she’d mutter some curse as the surrounding underbrush tried to snag her hair or trip her up. At least she didn’t pester me with any questions about how much further we had to walk.
It really wasn’t far, no more than forty or fifty feet from the campsite. I held the lantern up and let her move past me to get a look at her bath. It was about the size of one of those old, round, aboveground pools. The water looked still and black in the lantern light, and she hesitated.
“Is it deep?” she asked nervously. The sandy bank sloped gently into the water. She gingerly slipped her feet out of the flip-flops and edged towards it.
“No more than waist deep,” I reassured her. She dipped one toe in the water and drew it back quickly.
“It’s kind of cold,” she said.
“So’s a swimming pool at first,” I chuckled. “Go in or don’t. It’s your choice.”
“Is it safe to just jump in?” she asked.
“Should be,” I shrugged.
She took a deep breath and then dashed into the water, holding her long ponytail up with both hands to keep it from getting wet. She yelped at the chill, but kept wading in deeper until the water level was just below her cute little bellybutton. She stood there with her back to me, expertly wrapping her hair into a loose bun. Then she let herself sink until the water had covered her shoulders. She turned around to face me.
“It’s not too bad,” she grinned.
“You’ve got five minutes,” I told her.
“I thought clocks didn’t mean much out here,” she protested.
“They don’t,” I answered. “But I can’t leave the camp unguarded for too long. In five minutes I’m going back, whether you’re done or not.”
That seemed to light a fire under her. Whatever she did, she did most of it with her back to me. When she walked out of the pool, dripping and shivering, she still had about half a minute left to go, by my reckoning. I handed her the towel I’d brought along and watched while she dried herself off. She was pretty vigorous about it, and all the movement set her tits to jiggling again. The water had been cold enough to make her nipples stand out sharply.
“I haven’t been skinny-dipping for a long time,” she grinned nervously. I held out my hand for the towel. She handed it over.
“Kind of exciting, isn’t it?” I grinned back. I slung the towel over my shoulder and led the way back to the camp. I didn’t check to make sure she was following. Where else could she go? I didn’t ask her if she’d peed in the pool either.
The camp was quiet when we returned. I turned off the lantern, put it on the picnic table and spread the towel out alongside of it to dry before I put a little more wood on the fire. Barbie was kneeling on her sleeping bag, watching me.
“What?” I asked her. She hesitated.
“Are…are you going to tie me up again?” she asked.
“Do you want to be tied up?”
She wasn’t expecting that question. She looked quickly down and away. “I just thought I’d ask,” she murmured. Her voice was so low that I could barely hear her. Then she looked up again. “Are you?”
I walked over towards her. I took my time, and for once I kept my eyes on hers. She shrank back a little when I got close, but she didn’t panic or try to cover herself. She looked great naked, but it had been a long day and I’d already fucked her once tonight. We’d have her for a week at the lodge. That would be plenty of time. Besides, it would be Stan’s turn on watch soon.
“Stand up,” I ordered. She stood. She kept acting like she wanted to try to cover herself and had to fight to resist the impulse while I looked her up and down. I took my time again, letting my gaze rove over her full, round breasts with those prominent pink nipples, her narrow waist, flat belly and that silky tuft of hair between those warm, round thighs. She kept her legs together.
“Turn around,” I said. She pirouetted slowly on the sleeping bag and ended up facing me again.
“That’s not what I meant,” I frowned.
“Oh!” she blinked. “Sorry.” She turned her back to be and stood, fidgeting, not sure of what was coming. I let her wonder about it for a bit while I took in that world-class ass. I’d had my hands on it earlier, and I already knew that you could probably bounce a quarter on it.
“Put your hands behind you,” I ordered her. She whimpered and fidgeted again, but she obeyed. It was another one of the rules we had. If the girl didn’t ask about being tied up again we didn’t tie her up again that night. If she did ask, we did…more or less. I took the heavy pair of handcuffs from my pocket. She shivered when she felt the cold steel ratchet around her wrist, and shivered again when I cuffed her other wrist. Then she jumped and squeaked when I slid my arms around her and reached up to cup and squeeze those magnificent tits. They were soft and warm and yielding, except for the hard little nubbins of her nipples. I ran my palms over those while I fondled her. Before I was done, she was shuddering and moaning, leaning back against me.
“Get on your knees,” I whispered harshly into her ear. She shuddered again and sank to her knees on the sleeping bag, letting her body rub against me all the way down. She probably thought that I wanted her to suck me off. I think that she was getting into some fantasy of hers of sexual slavery. They didn’t come out here with us unless they had at least a few, whether they admitted it or not. Well, by that point I did want her to suck my cock, but that was another rule we had: No sucking on the trail. We’d train her how to please us that way at the lodge. In the meantime, I could give her something more to add to whatever fantasies were running through her mind. She flinched when I started buckling the leather dog collar around her slender neck, but she didn’t struggle or try to pull away as I buckled it into place. She just kept her eyes closed and whimpered. She didn’t struggle when I made her lie down on the sleeping bag either, even though I’d probably just derailed her imaginings about being forced to suck cock by one of her captors out here in the wilderness. She laid there passively while I padloc
ked a length of chain to the D-ring set in the collar, and watched me closely when I looped the other end of the chain around a sapling and padlocked it in place. By the time I was finished, though, she was writhing in anticipation of being ravished again. She was grinding her hips in slow, tiny circles and rubbing her thighs against each other, huffing and panting and tossing her head from side to side. With the show she was putting on, it wasn’t easy to just zip up the bag around her and wish her a good night. I heard her groaning in sheer frustration as I walked off to wake up Stan for his turn on watch. I had no doubts that he’d take care of her. In the meantime, it was always a good thing to keep them all revved up with no place to go for a while. It made getting them in the mood a lot easier later.
***
I don’t know how much later it was when the sounds woke me up. They weren’t the usual background noises of keening bugs and croaking frogs. I can sleep through those like some people can sleep through the noise of city traffic. I heard thrashings and moanings and deep, rhythmic grunts. Barbie sounded as if she was really suffering. I don’t know why women tend to make the same kinds of noises when they’re in pain as they do when they’re in the throes of orgasm. I had my back to whatever was going on, but I recognized the grunts as coming from Stan. It sounded like he was really giving it to our poor, helpless captive heroine. Barbie sounded like she was getting into the role of being taken roughly by one of her wicked captors. Her voice kept rising and rising until she let out a series of high-pitched shrieks that scared the frogs enough to make them stop croaking for a while. From the sound of it, Stan just kept plowing away at her until she shrieked again, and kept on going. I don’t know how he was able to do that without giving himself a whopping case of “blue balls”, and he wouldn’t tell us his secret technique. Whatever it was, it helped to make the young women we brought along on these outings very pliable and eager to please. After a while Barbie’s noises faded away to weak moans and whimpers. She was exhausted, used up, fading. I heard Stan quicken his pace. I kept hearing the impact as his hips slammed into hers, and then I heard him groaning loudly as he came.
Then it was quiet again, except for the frogs and bugs and the faint moans from Barbie. I heard rustlings, and then the sound of a slap, a hard palm smacking against soft skin, and then another. Barbie yelped weakly at each one and then whimpered. The next sound I heard was the zipper of the sleeping bag being pulled shut. I wondered if Stan had slapped her face or her ass. From the sound of the impacts, it had probably been her tight round ass. I concentrated on getting back to sleep.
Chapter Three
Breakfast the next morning was a simple affair: Beef jerky and day-old bread, washed down with water. We all sat at the picnic table to eat. Barbie knelt on the ground nearby, still collared, still handcuffed and still naked. In the daylight we could see faint tan lines from a skimpy bikini she’d worn. The end of the chain on her collar was wrapped around one of the table legs. She had to nuzzle against our legs to try to get us to offer her some morsel to eat. From the way she went about it, she must have been pretty hungry. Still, we didn’t feed her much, and we didn’t give her much water to drink. She looked more than a little worn and tired. There were the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes, but she’d be able to hang on until we reached the lodge. It wasn’t that far away from the camp, but it was going to be a long, grueling hike for Barbie.
Stan gave her one last bit of jerky and watched her as she chewed and swallowed it hungrily. She looked up at him, no doubt hoping for more.
“So, Barbie,” Stan grinned at her. “How do you like it so far?”
She blushed before she looked down at the ground. Stan reached out and gripped her long ponytail, pulling her head back up so that she all but had to look at him. Her eyes kept shifting around, but always came back to his for a moment before darting away again. Stan let her do that before he gave her head a rough little shake. She looked up at him and whimpered.
“I asked you a question, Barbie,” Stan said mildly. He smiled at her. Neither the tone of his voice nor the smile seemed to put her at ease. “How do you like it so far?”
“Ah…” she gulped. “It’s…all right…”
Stan gave her head another shake. “From the noises you were makin’ last night, girl, I think it was more than ‘all right’ for you. You came, didn’tcha? More than once.”
Barbie’s face reddened. “Yes,” she replied. Her voice was no more than a whisper.
“You liked getting’ fucked that way, didn’tcha?” Stan pressed. His free hand groped her breasts, softly, almost surreptitiously. She squirmed at his touch, but didn’t really try to pull away. She couldn’t turn her head away, but her eyes wouldn’t meet his until he shook her head again.
“Didn’tcha?” Stan snapped.
“Yes!” she wailed. “All right! Yes!”
Stan’s fingers tickled at her nipples, slowly teasing them into erection. She squirmed again. Now she looked really uncomfortable. We’d already stripped her body naked. Now Stan was going for a more intimate level of nakedness. She’d resist. They almost always did. But sooner or later, she’d yield. They almost always did.
“Tell me, Barbie,” Stan smiled, leaning closer to her. “You ever had any secret rape fantasies? Ever imagined yourself in a situation like this?”
She blushed again. Her mouth worked, but no words came out.
“I’m thinkin’ that maybe you did,” Stan said. “I’m thinkin’ that somewhere deep inside you’re really getting’ off on this. Like right now, if it wasn’t for me askin’ you questions you’d be imaginin’ yourself to be some helpless captive, doin’ whatever she needs to do to survive until somebody rescues her. That about right?”
Barbie’s face turned a deeper shade of red. The blush spread down to her neck and shoulders. It was interesting to see.
“Here’s somethin’ more for you to think about,” Stan continued. “You’re out here with three armed and possibly dangerous men. You’re naked. You’re helpless. You aren’t responsible for anything we might make you do.” He pinched one of her nipples, just hard enough to make her wince. “Got that?” he asked her.
She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t look Stan in the eye. She just nodded as best she could.
“Good,” Stan let go of her nipple and went back to fondling her tits. “Now, when you kneel, you gotta do it in a particular way. Understand?”
She looked up at him and nodded again.
“Okay. Now, spread your knees. Wider.”
She whimpered and spread her knees a little wider.
“More,” Stan ordered. He jerked her head back a little. She whimpered again and spread her knees wider until we had a good view of her pussy. I thought she might be getting a little turned on by this. Her nipples were swollen, standing out sharply against the soft curves of her tits. They were about as big around as the end of my little finger. Or maybe Stan’s fondling was making them erect and she wasn’t getting into it all that much. Either way, there was a lot we could do to and with nipples like that.
Stan pulled her head back until she was looking almost straight up at the sky. The pose forced her to arch her back, putting her gorgeous body on display for us.
“Damn, you’re gorgeous,” Stan told her. “Tell me, Barbie, you ever sucked cock?”
“Yes,” she whimpered.
“Ever swallowed?”
“No.” It was more of a despairing moan than a whimper.
“You will,” Stan chuckled. He let go of her ponytail, but she stayed in her pose.
“Hey, Mike,” Stan turned back to us. “Why don’t you take Barbie off to the pool and let her clean up a bit? Give her a little time. We’ll take care of breaking camp.”
“Gotcha,” Mike nodded. When she heard the sound of the chain being unwrapped from the table leg, Barbie straightened up and drew her knees closer together. She couldn’t quite seem to look at us, even when Mike helped her to her feet. We watched as he led her away down the
trail to the pool. She still walked with that model’s trick. It was interesting to watch her hips ticking back and forth as she followed Mike. Her wrists were still locked securely in the heavy handcuffs, and her hands were clenched into fists.
“That girl’s got promise,” Stan chuckled as she disappeared behind Mike into the woods. “She likes it when she’s not sure what’s comin’ next. She really likes it when we order her to do somethin’ she just wouldn’t do ord’narily.”
“Think she’ll last out the week?” I asked him. He chuckled again.
“Hell, I think she ain’t gonna want to leave,” he said.
“How far do you think we can push her?”
Stan looked thoughtful for a moment. “If we do it right,” he said finally, “She’ll do just about anything we want in a couple of days. I saw the look in her eyes when I planted the idea that she wouldn’t be responsible for anything we made her do. It turned her on, though she won’t admit it, not even to herself right now.” He looked at me and grinned. “I know you want her sweet round ass,” he said. “In a couple days, you can have it, I think. She won’t just give it to you. You’ll have to take it, but that’s the way she’ll want it. See, she won’t be responsible. C’mon, let’s get packed up and ready to go. I wanna get our little filly to the lodge where we can really start breakin’ her down and trainin’ her.”
***
We had everything ready when Mike led Barbie back to the campsite. The end of her long ponytail was still dripping wet, and her nipples were still erect. She hesitated at the edge of the site when she saw that everything, including her clothes, had been packed up. Mike gave her leash a sharp tug, dragging her along. Still cuffed, still collared, she looked confused.
“’S’matter, Barbie?” Stan asked.
“I…where are my clothes?” she asked plaintively.
“Oh, Hell, girl, we’re gonna keep you naked,” Stan laughed. She laughed nervously in response, obviously hoping that he was joking.
“No, really,” she shook her head.
“Really,” Stan grinned wolfishly.