In The Pines

In the Pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines...

They were driving down the interstate, listening to some Billie Holliday tunes. He pulled off to a roadside rest area, grinding to a halt on the gravel, and suggested she sit still.

"OK, now I'm going to tie a blindfold onto you, so you can't see where I'm taking you. Are you sure you're ready for this?" His voice seemed a bit nervous, but this only reassured her that he wasn't a kook, but rather trying to satisfy her needs and curiosity.

"Yes, go ahead. We've talked about this so much, that I pretty much feel that I'm totally committed to it at this point." In contrast, her voice was calm and collected. Anticipating.

He pulled a black nylon webbed blindfold out of his backpack full of goodies, wondering to himself what a state trooper might think if he spied a women riding along in a car blindfolded. A difficult thing to explain…."uh…occcifer….you see, this is something she wants to do…" "Uh-huh, son, step out of the car and assume the position"

He gently wrapped the blindfold around her head. She immediately became more aware of the sounds of the cars whizzing by. He started up the car again and accelerated back onto the highway. She was more sensitive to things other than visual stimuli. The sounds of the tires on the highway, the hum of the engine, of cars passing by. The acceleration as he changed lanes, sped up or slowed down. After what seemed like hours – or at least five or six Billie Holliday tunes, she heard the blinker and felt the slow deceleration of the car and the rise of what must be an exit ramp. The car came to a stop, and the turn indicator came on again and he executed what must've been a left turn, judging by the way her body responded to the car underneath her.

The next part of the ride must've lasted again another hour. Many turns in the road – up hill, down hill, a long uphill ride. There were several turns – left, right, again a right. The surface of the roads evidently must've been getting progressively worse, as more and more bumps became evident to her with her heightened sensation of touch, and perhaps anticipation. Eventually, he turned on onto what must've been a gravel road, judging by the sounds of the wheels, and then on dirt, with many potholes and a lot of slow bumping up and down. Finally, one last turn and the car halted. She could hear him put the gearshift into park, put on the emergency brake.

They hadn't said a word since he put on the blindfold. This only heightened the tension. She could hear the car door on his side open and shut. His footsteps were barely audible, and then her car door opened up. He nostrils instantly picked up the slightly acrid smell of pine and…perhaps even cedar. He commanded…."OK, give my your hand, and I'll help you stand up…" She nodded, and said "alright" and obliged him. She eased out of the car, feeling a bit stiff from the drive, bending her knees.

"Just give me a moment here." She heard the car doors open, him take out what must've been that backpack, and then close the door again, and the automatic lock mechanism click loudly.

"Now, hold onto my elbow and I'll walk you down a path here."

She felt herself drawn to his every word, almost robotically following his instructions. He was so gentle as to almost be solicitous, yet she knew that he was planning on a rapid change of his demeanor at some point. This prospect excited her no end.

She held onto his elbow as he led her down the path. Every so often he'd pause and give her directions, like "OK, you're going to have to step up here…careful…there you go". She could hear the pine needle crunch every so quietly under her footfalls, and felt a bit of the cool dampness of the shadow of the trees above, and the sound of the wind through the pines.

After what seemed like twenty minutes of meticulous hiking, he put down his pack and said, "OK, we can stop here. This is the place." He took off her blindfold and she surveyed the scene visually. It was a little sylvan glade, surrounded by pine trees. Wildflowers and grass were abundant in the opening – daisy like flowers bloomed around, and cicadas were chirping from some hidden locations. In the middle of the clearing was a large tree trunk, evidently recently felled by a windstorm or somesuch.

"This is it." He softly intoned. "Why don't you rest here for a moment, while I get things set up?" Rooting around in his backpack, he picked up a bottle of water and a little silver hip flask with unknown contents and handed it to her. She took them, gratefully, and sat down in the grass, a bit nervous, but anticipating. He walked over to the trunk with his pack, and started to rummage around. She opened the flask and got a whiff of heavy proof armagnac. Briefly sipping some, it burned her throat and nostrils, but there was an ever expanding feeling of warmth spreading through her body. She felt a bit dizzy and disoriented from the hike in, but the warmth put her more at ease.

Soft cumulus clouds slowly drifted by in the sky. Somewhere in the distance a crow or raven cawed. Her gazed returned to his preparations. He seemed to be emptying his backpack of various items – rope, stakes and axe (!). An axe? What on earth? Her heart started to pound. Should she run? After all that careful planning, did she really hook up with a psycho? But, where was she? All this planning had left her completely helpless, and the issue of control seemed now to be in doubt. Almost sensing this fear via some unknown mechanism, he turned to her and said "don't worry, these are only for pouding in the stakes" Breathing a sigh of relief, she took another sip of armagnac.

"Hun, are you ready for this?"

"eek….yes, sure. Let's do it."

She walked over to the setup. "OK, here we go" His voice was getting lower and gruffer, no longer suffused with tenderness, but somehow acquiring a more threatening demeanor. Into run-away adrenalin mode now.

He unbottoned her blouse – first slowly at the top and then ripping off the bottom buttons. He left her standing there in her bra and jeans, and took a large blanket off the ground and spread it over the log. "Come over here…" Suppressing an urge to run, knowing it was hopeless anyway, she slowly walked over. He took her by the hand and grabbed her behind the waist. Quickly his right hand went behing her back and unsnapped her bra, which he deftly removed from around her shoulders. Her aureoles were already scrunched and nipples erect. Was it the coolness or the excitation?

He led her by the hand to the log. "Now lie down with your stomach on the blanket". She lay down with her butt pointing into the air. He reached into his backpack and extraced a rolled up terrycloth towel. "now raise your butt". She complied and he put the towel roll underneath her, so that her bum was now raised high in the air.

He quickly hopped over the log and grabbed a rope. Deftly tying a wrap and a clinch knot around one wrist and then another, he extended the rope out, with a stake and the axe in hand, and pounded the stake in with a large metallic clanging. The rope was a nylon-satin combination, which showed the care to which he had prepared this scenario. This put her more at ease. Tar embedded manila hemp would have been a bad sign for sure.

Tying off a tautline hitch onto the stake, he let the one line go a bit slack. With a loud metallic clanging, he pounded in the other stake, and then put another taut line hitch, leaving the rope somewhat limp. He then pulled both lines somewhat taut, leaving her hanging over the trunk, with legs dangling. He came around behind her, now somewhat rough, and pushed right up against her butt, reached around and unceremoniously unbuttoend her jean button, unzipped her and roughly yanked down her jeans to her ankles, pulled off one shoe, then the other, then both socks, and finally with a good tug, pulled off the jeans, leaving her in her maroon satin undies. With all the tugging, the towel had come unrolled. He quickly rolled it up and lifted her up bodily and replaced it. He seemed to be getting more and more rough in his manner.

She then felt a tugging on one ankle, and looked back as he looped another rope around first one, and then the other ankle. The banging of the stakes happened again, and she could feel the tugging as he secured the ropes to the stakes.

He then went to each of the four stakes and tightened up the taut line hitches until her arms and legs were fully extended toward the stakes, almost extensions of the rope. There was a dynamic tension between her own body weight, the curve of the tree trunk and the tension in the ropes, so that she could barely move from this equilibrium position. The more she squirmed, the tight the tautline hitched put tension on the rope. Seeing this, he gave her just the tiniest bit of slack, and cautioned her, "you'd better not squirm too much or else you're going to find yourself in a real pickle…or perhaps a pickle will find itself in you…" and he let out a guffaw. His voice seemed to be acquiring a distinct southern drawl. An affectation perhaps, but it was a bizarre transformation.

He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her hair back, stuffing a sock into her mouth, and wrapping a large bandana around it, and tying it off to stifle her groans.

"OK, hun, take a good look around, 'cause I'm gonna hoodwink ya" She craned her neck to glance at the clouds and the pines.. She couldn't see him, but this time he put on an entire black sack-like hood over her head and tied it off loosely, letting her hair still straggle outside the hood. She couldn't see a thing in the sack, and realized that any passerby would see the most bizarre sight. But, of course there woudn't be any passers-by. They were completely isolated.

He laughed again. "you're one sight to see, I wished I'd brung my camera for this one…yowsuh!".

She heard him traipse off into some direction in front of her, his footfalls in the brush getting fainter and fainter and fainter until they vanished altogether.

There she lay, legs spread out, panties on, butt high in the air, black sack over her head, open to any passer by. The vulnerability made her pussy start to weep warm juice into the cotton crotch of her panties. What if an errant buck came by? Getting raped by Bambi, now that was an amusing thought. She was on the edge of hysterics and at the same time bemused by her own little fantasy that she'd gotten herself into.

The crows in the distance cawed, but she could hear little other than the wind whistling through the pine needles in the trees, a high moaning sound.

She played little amusing games in her head to pass the time, thinking about the absurdity of all of this, her vulnerability.

After what seemed like an eternity, some steps came from behind her, tromping on the grass, getting closer and closer and closer, until they were right behind her.

"Well, lookey here! Mah oh mah, trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey. 'cept all that's missing is the stuffin. Well, heck, I reckon I should supply the stuffin…. Hun, you up to be stuffed some?"

A rough hand started at her outstrectch calf and found its way up to the backside of her knee. It grabbed her ass gruffly a few times and ran up the base of her spine, and twined little curls in her hair, then roughly grabbed a hunk of her hair, and pulled her head back.

"you lil slut, I reckon you wouldn't be out here unless you were up for a real good corn-holing, now would ya?"

She only managed a muffled "mmmph, grrrumph….." She twisted against her ropes, only tightening the hitches and rubbing her crotch against the rolled up blankets. He released her head and she let it fall slightly again.

He ran the rough palm of his hand back down her back and gabbed some of her ass, slapping it a few times. His hand dissappeared. Quiet ensued for a second, and she heard a distinct metallic click – perhaps a switch blade? All of a sudden there was a tug at the left side of her panties and then on the right side of her panties. Then from behind, a strong tug pulled it out from underneath her, revealing her bare assed to all the world.

"hmmm….hmmmm……now, ain't that a sight for sore eyes? Honey, I think you're a bit wet down there. How's about I give you some help?"

She felt a hand stroke her labia majora, rubbing it around in circled. He then spanked her pussy a few times, and stroked it, pausing ever so briefly on her clit, sending shockwaves up her spine.

A brief moment of non-contact ensued, and she felt her lips being spread and his tongue running up one side of her labia majora and then down the other side. Then his tongue reached her clit and licked up to her fuck hole, pausing there to dart in and out several times.

"Oh, honey! You taste so good. You're going to have to give it up to me. You have no choice, I'm going to take you, hun."

Fingers spread her lips and circular tongue licks ensued all around her pussy hole, concentrating every so often on her clit with little sideways strokes. By an instinct of nature, she raised her butt as high as she could, ropes allowing to give him as much of herself as she could allow, wiggling to put herself at his disposal.

A finger penetrated her, and darted in and out, while his tongue circled her clit. Then it withdrew and then two fingers entered her, pushing in much more slowly and then turning around and reaching her g-spot and then resting there ever so gently. Then, the pressure on her g-spot built ever so slightly, then increased somewhat, and then back and forth, bach and forth. His tongue resumed its roaming around her clit, while he probed her g-spot. She arched her back to give him the accomdation he needed to lich her some more and started to rock rhymthically to his motions, all sychronized. She could feel her juices leaving her and trailing down his hand, as the excitement built. The only freedom of motion she felt was the slight motion of her hips to accommodate him. It built and built and built, until in a huge spasm she came and she contracted around his fingers, but he wouldn't stop, urging her on for more as the intensity of the spasms built. She groaned against the muffler in her mouth. Finally, he gradually reduced the pace, letting her coast back down to a more relaxed level of excitement, if such a thing could be known.

"Hun, you've had your turn. Now, it's mine."

His hands left her and she was left alone for a second while she heard the sound of unzippering, and clothes rustling. Pretty soon, her ass cheeks were spread, a hand ran itself through the cleft of her bum, and his warm tool probed at her pussy. She could feel him straddled her and he pushed in his cock so that only the head protuded inside her. She could smell bourbon penetrat the black hood over her head as he held himself only an inch inside her. Oh! How much she wanted the whole shaft, but he only worked slowly back and forth an inch, teasing her…and then finally….a yelp "Yeeee-haw…." And in one swift stroke he pushed all the way inside. The hot penetration took her breath away, and then she rapidly regained it. He was all the way inside and then left it there for a second.

"Honey, you feel so good….my god, you feel so tight and wet"

He then slowly pulled out and rhythmically started to work back and forth. She pushed her butt in the air as much as possible to allow him as much of her as she could. Her cries were muffled inside the hood. Tears rolled down her cheeks from the sheer emotion of it. She started to match his rhythm, offering herself up to him as he penetrated ever so much deeper on each thrust, until she came again, her vaginal muscles contracting, conspiring to push him out, but this only gave him more impetus to penetrate harder, and she came again.

"yeee- haw, you are one hot honey babe! I wanna fuck you real hard!"

His hands reached around and underneath her and began to play with her clit and pussy lips, spreading them as far as he could while he fucked her hard.

His penetrations increased in speed and depth and aggressiveness as she came again. It was as if her pussy muscles were simultaneously trying to capture his cock and expel it. Finally he pushed in as far as he could and she could feel his hot jism coat her insides as he throbbed inside her.

He held himself inside her for a long time, letting the warmth and the jism trickle out.

He pulled out his deflated member and his touch departed her for a while. She could hear the rustle of clothes and then first one leg, and the the other leg regained independence from the ropes. Then, one arm and then the other.

"OK, slide back, and I'll take the hood off, " He intoned. She followed his request.

He pulled off the hood and the gag in quick succession.

Pretty soon, they were sitting up against the log, eating ham and cheese sandwiches, and sharing a bottle of merlot, listening to the crows caw in the distance.