Taking Flight

by Tabitha Rayne

  When they’d eaten and got their bearings a little, Marcus took the compass and suggested they go north, further into the woodland. Deborah could do little else but agree; she knew he’d studied maps and made strategies for this while she’d worked. Even in the very short time they’d been gone, her research had come to seem like a distant memory and her work a futile waste of energy. This was her life now—a life on the run, a life with her lover. She had to dismiss any hope of going back in order to survive the here and now.

  She followed behind Marcus, reminding herself to take in her surroundings every now and then instead of staring incessantly at the hypnotic gait of his heels as they trod through the undergrowth. The forest was truly beautiful, mainly oak and silver birch filling it up. They must have been walking for at least a couple of hours when Marcus stopped her.

  “Shh.” He reached back, halting her with his palm, “Listen.”

  In the distance was a rhythmic cracking sound, biting into the air. Almost like a twig snapping underfoot but not quite. It was followed every now and then by a whimper. Deborah froze. The acoustics of the forest were oppressive, yet oddly echoed the noise. It seemed to ricochet off the bark of the tree trunks and bounce right to them. She could tell Marcus was intrigued and he started moving, more cautiously this time, palming the branches as he went, being careful not to let them spring back in her face. As they moved closer to the sound, they reached a small incline. They got down on their bellies and crawled to the brow, which descended into a natural birch-lined amphitheater. Deborah held her breath and stared at the sight before her.

  Between two trees, a naked woman was tied spread-eagle. Lash marks were visible over her back and thighs. Her long hair tumbled about her shoulders as she let her head fall back. A scruffy-looking man wearing only woodcutter’s breeches stood slightly to the side of her, wielding a switch of what looked to Deborah to be red hazel. As they watched, the man sliced the switch through the air and whipped the woman soundly on the buttocks. She let out a throaty groan and Deborah went to spring forward to demand what was going on. No sooner had she twitched the first muscle than Marcus pounced on top of her, flattening her to the ground and holding her mouth closed. She breathed angrily though her nose as they continued watching the scene of torture.

  “Shh,” Marcus growled into her ear. “Just watch.”

  It was all she could do, pinned to the forest floor with her face aimed at the show. She was bewildered and all her instincts wanted to free the poor woman who was being so savagely beaten.

  Struggling, she tried to wriggle out of Marcus’s grip, but he held her fast and whispered again, “I mean it, watch…”

  She relaxed her body, knowing the battle would be lost anyway, and stared. The woman was swaying in what must have been agony on the ropes which bit into her wrists and ankles. The weight of Marcus on her back stifled Deborah’s breath. The whip lashed the woman once more. When the cry came, Deborah was shocked to feel Marcus pressing his pelvis into her behind. He was obviously enjoying the scene and his cock began to stir and harden, pressing into her flesh. Deborah didn’t know what to feel and was suddenly furious as he stared to slowly hump her bottom through their joint layers of clothing.

  She was about to scream out and throw him off when she saw the tied woman look around to her captor. Her eyes were sparkling and the most dazzling smile crossed her face. He let the cane fall to his side for a moment and leaned in to kiss her, long and sensuously, while his free hand reached down between her legs and began to massage her pussy and ass. The woman responded by pressing her hips backward, exposing as much of her sex to his advances as she could while tied to a tree.

  Marcus’s cock stiffened further as the man began to finger the woman slowly with two thick digits. Deborah saw that the fingers of the man and the inner thighs of the woman were slick with desire, and she started to feel the wet tingling in her own pussy.

  Marcus still had his hands over her mouth and started to massage her lips with his middle finger, forcing it in between her teeth, mimicking the pussy play on show for them. Deborah began to suckle him, letting him probe her mouth and pulse in and out of it like he was fucking her there. Her nipples puckered and peaked within her clothing. As if he felt it happen, Marcus’s other hand rode up under her top, into her bra, and pulled a breast out, exposing it to the earthy forest floor. Her whole body flooded with sensation as he tweaked her nipple and fingered her mouth while humping her to the sight of the two people performing below. She opened her legs and Marcus sank into the space between, riding her ass while she ground her mound into the dirt. He released her nipple and snaked his way down to her desperate pudenda. He cupped the bony nub, letting it rest on the fleshy heel of his hand while his fingers hooked into her dampening knickers through her skirt. She humped and wriggled until her skirt hitched up over her hips. Marcus helped it along. He pulled her knickers to the side and slid his fingers in and out in time with the attentions on her mouth.

  All the while they watched the man and woman. Laying down his crop, the man ducked under her arm and stood to face her. He looked at her intensely before falling to his knees in front of her, devouring her pussy in long, slurping kisses. The woman made frantic whimpering noises again and writhed in her bindings.

  Deborah couldn’t take her eyes off the scene. Her pussy soaked through her panties while Marcus still fingered her. She was so wet and so full of desire that she sucked harder and deeper on Marcus’s hand, taking more and more fingers in, trying to swallow him up. He took the hint and dragged down his jeans, letting his thick, heavy cock fall out onto her ass. She arched her hips up, giving him the best entry, and he teased her, dipping in the tiniest way, easing her open slowly despite the fact she was so wet he could have sunk in unhindered.

  The woman below was now being licked and sucked as the man shoved two fingers deep into her. Deborah had the perfect view and thought she would pass out with the sheer lust of the situation. She wanted to be fucked harder and deeper than she ever had been—she wanted to be that woman, tied to the tree and whipped. Remembering the sting of the slap Marcus had given her the night before made her pussy burn with excitement.

  The man was now pulling down his own trousers with his free hand, letting his sizable dick fall out before clutching it in his fist and pumping in time with his frantic attentions on the bound woman. She was howling with sexual abandon now, and finally, Marcus thrust himself deep inside Deborah’s yearning, wet cunt. She panted damply through her nose and wriggled as Marcus returned his hand to between her pussy lips, rubbing her bud in time with his thrusting.

  Deborah had never felt so open and wanton and let her body flop as she witnessed the woman’s final squeal, watching as her pussy convulsed and her climax juices ran down the hand of the man while he came in a white arc over the springy forest floor. It was the most erotic sight she’d ever seen, and Deborah’s pussy began to spasm as the orgasm that she’d been on the brink of burst through, rippling from the pit of her abdomen out through her pussy, into her clit, all the way up through her torso, and out through her mouth in an ear-splitting shriek.

  Marcus quickly rolled back, out of view from the couple who turned to see where the noise had come from. He flipped Deborah back into position and fucked her hard and fast from behind, grabbing her hair and biting into her shoulder to stop himself from shouting out too as he came deep inside her. She could feel his heart racing when he fell on top of her, and she did her best to resist the temptation to giggle. Adrenalin, sexual relief, and excitement had worked her up into a nervous state, and the thought of those two discovering their voyeurs made her almost hysterical. She couldn’t stop shaking as Marcus tried to keep her silent and still.

  “Shh,” he whispered, but she could hear the tell-tale quiver of a giggle in his voice too. He slowly eased off and motioned for her to come quickly and quietly. They snapped a couple of branches and started to run without looking back to where the man was now shouting after them.


  Chapter 6

  Deborah’s lungs felt like they would split and her muscles ached with the burn of lactic acid.

  “Marcus, please,” she panted and stumbled to a halt. “I can’t go a step further. Please, stop.” Her mouth was desperately dry and she felt filthy. Her inner thighs were sticky with sex, and dirt and bits of twigs and leaves littered her hair and clothing. He finally slowed his pace and turned to her with his face shining.

  “Well, wasn’t that something?” he said, looking decidedly pleased with himself. He fell down beside Deborah and entwined his fingers in hers while she still struggled to catch her breath. “I think I might get to like this wild life.” He tousled her hair, kissing her hard and enthusiastically.

  She smiled at him, feeling pretty satisfied with their lot too. It might not have been their picture book ideal, but it had certainly been an adventure so far, and even though they were on the run with the shadow of capture hanging over them, Deborah had never felt so free.

  “Do you know we’ve never so much as held hands outside together for over a year now?”

  “Debs, we’ve never even been outside together for over a year now. Isn’t this incredible?” He waved his hands with a flourish, as if presenting her with the whole world. It was a dazzling sight.

  “Marcus, we have to think about making a proper camp tonight.” She was sorry to bring the talk back to practicalities but she knew the light would be fading soon. “And I need to wash.”

  He squeezed her shoulder and nodded agreement. “Should we make a fire?”

  “I don’t know. What if it brings attention to us? Maybe we should stick to our camp stove for now.” Deborah stood up and shielded her eyes against the afternoon sun, trying to find a stream or the babbling brook she’d romantically envisioned herself bathing in, serenaded by frogs’ evening song. “There must be a river here somewhere.”

  They gathered their things and went in search of a suitable campsite. Deborah was angry at them for letting the day slip by without preparing properly. Time had seemed to ebb away without them even noticing. She motioned to Marcus to keep silent as she pricked her ears, trying to catch the noise of any sort of water flowing. Nothing. Twilight began to descend and they decided to call off the search and make do with a little clearing they’d come across which had quite a good vantage point in case of intruders. Deborah cleaned herself as best she could with the baby wipes they’d brought and Marcus lit the stove to boil some water for tea. There wasn’t much left at all.

  “What were we thinking? Only two liters of water for an escape plan?” Deborah buried the used wipes and sulked. She’d had a terror of being thirsty ever since she’d suffered dehydration as a child when she’d taken herself off to research insects in the meadow near her house. She’d got lost and the feeling of raging thirst when her mother eventually found her, lying in flowers clutching a net full of dying butterflies, had never left. She still couldn’t look at the tiny flapping creatures without reaching for a bottle of cool, crisp water.

  Her mother used to tell the story, saying when she’d been rescued she’d drunk enough to fill a bath tub, to anyone who cared to listen. Sitting at the camp with just half a canteen left, Deborah began to believe her mother’s tale, feeling that if there was a bath full of water there, she would happily drink the lot. She needed a distraction or she would become fixated and go mad. That’s what happened to those lost in the desert, wasn’t it? Thirst, then madness, then death.

  Marcus laughed when she mentioned her fear. “Honestly, Deborah, what a bloody drama queen. We’ve got plenty of supplies to see us through the night, and tomorrow we’ll get up early and go get more. We—” He paused and quickly corrected himself. “Well, you, can sneak into a shop, you know. It’s not like we’re going to have to live off the fat of the land forever.”

  Deborah felt an irrational pang of disappointment. So they could. Shops didn’t cease to exist simply because they were living in the woods. It would be tricky, she’d have to disguise herself, but of course they could. The water began to bubble on the stove and Marcus popped a teabag in.

  “Just for a second, love. We’ve no milk to soften the blow if it’s stewed.” She laughed inwardly at the lecture. Stewed tea. She’d gone from fearing for her life to worrying that the tea would be bitter. She was learning to live in the here and now after all. She watched like a hawk as Marcus tipped the weak brown liquid into two beakers balanced precariously on a root. She was tense with the worry he might spill it. She thought she might kill him if he did.

  At last, hot tea inside her and lying in a nicely made bed on top of soft leaves and a tarpaulin, Deborah finally relaxed and breathed a sigh of thanks that they’d made it through the first day as lovers on the run.

  * * * *

  “What’s going on?” Deborah sprang up and focused instantly, despite her sleep-gritty eyes. An intruder was searching through their bags. “Fuck off! What are you doing?” She grabbed at Marcus, trying to shake him awake as the shadowy figure put his finger to his lips.

  “Shh,” he whispered menacingly.

  “Fucking hell, Marcus, wake up!” She punched him in the arm now and he moaned at her irritably, trying to roll to the side and fall back to sleep. “Marcus, wake up, help me!” The word “help” must have triggered his protective instincts and he was up like a shot, pinning the stranger to the ground right next to their rifled-through belongings.

  “You’d better have a fucking good explanation for this,” he snarled, and Deborah felt the strength leave her. She couldn’t tell if it was from fear of the situation or the feral menace in Marcus’s voice.

  “You’re choking me,” the man said in a raspy way that confirmed Marcus’s hands were firmly around his throat.

  “Marcus.” Deborah leaped up and tried to pull him off the struggling man. “You’ll kill him, stop!”

  His grip softened and the man sat up, rubbing his neck and breathing hard. In the dim shadows of the night, Deborah could just see the light of a smile in his eyes and a hand extended to Marcus.

  “Sorry, mate, I had to check you out,” he said in a friendly manner completely out of place considering what had just happened.

  Marcus looked over his shoulder at Deborah, who could only shrug.

  “I had to make sure you weren’t after us,” the man said, letting his arm drop.

  Deborah’s heart was pounding, thoughts streaming through her mind. Were there more of these people; were they here for them? “Who are you? Who do you think we are? How did you find us?” Panic tore through her and the words were coming too quickly to wait for answers. Marcus laid a calming hand on her arm and she fell silent.

  “It was you, watching me and my lady today, wasn’t it?”

  Deborah blushed and looked away.

  “How the hell did you find us?” Marcus sounded bewildered. They’d run for what seemed like miles to get to this hidden spot, and they hadn’t made that much noise at the amphitheater earlier.

  “Listen, when you’ve been hiding in these woods as long as we have, every cracked twig or displaced leaf can be read and followed. You guys were easy. And if you’re on the run too, you’d best start learning how to cover your tracks. It’s not just yourselves you put in danger.” An icy bitterness inflected his tone and Deborah was suddenly ashamed at their ignorance. “If you’re not on the run, you must be guards or agents, and in that case, you’re just idiots.”

  Normally, that would have been enough of an insult for Marcus to give the guy a slap, but Deborah knew he’d detected the softening to the man’s speech even in the harsh words. She watched as the two males relaxed and shook hands warmly.

  “Marcus, and this is my girl, Deborah.”

  The man hushed him quickly. “No real names here, friend,” he said, darting a quick look into the shadows, and Deborah suddenly felt danger lurking. “I’m known as Birch and my good lady wife is Hazel, due to her love of...well, I don’t think I need to explain that to you, now do I?” The darkne
ss was beginning to lift and Deborah caught the wink he threw her way. “Your knowledge of the woods, or lack of, has convinced me to trust that you aren’t here to capture me or my wife.”

  “No, of course not. We’re—” Deborah started, but she was cut off by Birch.

  “Please, the less you tell me the better. So while I believe you mean us no harm, if you continue to stumble haphazardly through the forest the way you have been, you will bring danger to us. You’ve already laid blinding tracks to our camp—which must be eradicated—and no doubt you’ll make more, so I must insist you join us, at least for one night, so we might teach you some skills.”

  Relief washed over Deborah. “Yes, that would be wonderful. Do you have water?”

  “Our camp is the best and most well stocked in these woods. Come.”

  Deborah got up to leave, but Marcus grabbed her by the arm and forced her down. “What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed. “We’ve never met this guy before and you’re ready to go off with him—without even discussing it with me?” He was incredulous and Deborah was once again ashamed. It was as if this forest had taken all of her sense. She could hardly think straight.

  “Sorry, I just...” Her voice quavered. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Listen, I’ll give you an hour to discuss it, then I’ll come for you. It will be light by then and we can cover your tracks. If you choose not to come with me, I’ll make sure I’ll leave no trace and you’ll never see me again. Understood?”

  Marcus nodded grimly and Birch disappeared into the shadows.

  “What the hell?” Marcus glared at her with a look of sheer disgust.

  Deborah was hurt and confused. “I don’t know. He seemed genuine to me. Nice, even.”

  “Nice?” Marcus was angry now; his voiced hissed with it. “Are you totally out of your mind, Deborah? We witness him beating a woman tied to a tree and assaulting her, then you catch him trying to fucking rob us, and you call him nice?”