The Dark Woods & Other Bondage Stories

by S. J. Lewis

  They didn’t give her much time to rest.

  “Come on, bitch,” her handler said. He’d picked up the end of her leash again and he gave it a sharp yank. “On your feet. We still got a ways to go.” Amy got to her feet with a groan. The relief that she felt at not having to let the other two men use her mouth now was more than offset by the certainty that she’d have to do so later, and the prospect of having to hike even further into the dark and menacing woods.

  “Think we could lighten her load a little, fellas?” her handler asked his companions. “I mean, now that we’re such good friends?” He sounded almost jocular. Amy had no idea what he was talking about. Were they going to give her shoes or sandals to wear? Even a pair of cheap flip-flops would be welcome. Then she felt something pulling at the back of her t-shirt.

  “You just stand still,” her handler growled as he yanked at her leash again. “Stand very, very still.”

  Amy obeyed. The tone of his voice was suddenly frightening. She heard a faint ripping sound, then more pulls on the sleeves of her t-shirt. She caught a glimpse of one of the other men cutting the garment off of her body with a bright, sharp knife. The t-shirt fell to the ground. Then he cut her panties off too. Amy started to hunch forward. Handcuffed as she was, it was the only way for her to try to cover herself, but her handler drew her back upright by her leash. Naked now, she endured their rough fondling of her breasts and ass, their teasing of her nipples, their rude comments about her trimmed pussy hair. When she stopped reacting, they seemed to lose interest in the game. They hid her torn clothes, and the panties and tape they had gagged her with under an old log, but not before the knife-wielder had cut a strip from her t-shirt and used it to tie her long, fine hair back in a ponytail. Then they started hiking again, towing Amy helplessly along with them. They hadn’t gagged her. She could have called out or screamed for help now, but she didn’t. If they’d left her ungagged, it was because they were sure that they were beyond hearing of anybody else. She could scream anyway, but fear of punishment or being gagged again kept her silent, except for the whimpers and tiny yelps she couldn’t help making as something hurt her feet.

  ***

  Corliss picked a good spot behind a row of thickly growing bushes and settled in to keep an eye on what had to be the trail. They should be passing this way soon. There just weren’t any other good ways through these woods, especially when they were hampered by a barefoot captive. She’d get another bead on which way they were going, and with any luck it would all be over by tomorrow morning. It might be a little rough on Amy until then, but there was no help for that now. Corliss took a sip from her canteen and waited. Waiting was always the hardest part for her.

  The Dark Woods – Chapter Two

  Corliss shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, careful not to make any noise. They were probably still a little ways off, but it was unnaturally quiet here in this dark woods and even a little noise might carry a long way.

  She lay behind the clump of bushes at the top of a low rise. Fifty or sixty feet away, and about ten feet below her position, what looked very much like an often-used trail crossed a tiny trickle of a stream. Unless she had guessed very wrong, which was possible but not likely, Amy and her three captors ought to appear along that trail eventually. In fact, Corliss had expected them to show up before this. Now every minute that went by without any sign of them worried her more and more. Could she have really been wrong about which way they would go? It was possible. She kept telling herself that she was probably right, but it was still possible that she was wrong. Well, she had a Plan B to go to if it turned out that she’d been mistaken. There was still plenty of time to resort to it. But what if she started to move and they showed up at exactly that moment? There wasn’t a lot of underbrush here under the trees and she’d be out in the open, easy to spot, with no good place to hide and that wouldn’t do her or Amy any good, would it? She looked at her watch and decided to wait for another five minutes. The hardest part was definitely the waiting.

  ***

  The hardest part was the sheer unendingness of it. Amy plodded along wearily at the end of her leash. She was just too exhausted and worn now to pay any attention to the hardest, sharpest twigs or stones that jabbed at the soles of her feet now. She had no idea how far they’d gone, or how much further they had to go, or how long it would take. It just went on and on. She tried not to think about it. It was getting hard enough to concentrate on putting one bare foot in front of the other while scanning the ground in front of her for anything that looked especially unpleasant to step on so she could try to avoid it. They didn’t give her much opportunity to do that, though. If she hesitated or even tried to step a little to one side her handler would growl angrily and give her leash a yank. Then she would totter forward for a couple of steps until she managed to regain her balance. Once she collided with her handler. That had earned her a hard, stinging slap on her ass and a muttered warning to be more careful.

  Every so often, in spite of herself, she would wonder how much further they had to go. At those times, she wanted very much to ask her captors about it, but she didn’t dare to. None of them had explicitly told her to keep quiet, but they seemed to feel that it was understood that she’d keep her mouth shut. She was completely at their mercy out here, and afraid to say…or do…anything that might anger them. They were so deep into the woods now that it probably didn’t matter if she talked, or yelled, or screamed for help, but she believed that if she did any of those things they would gag her again. She didn’t want them to do that. She was naked, leashed and handcuffed. While that might not seem much of an improvement over naked, leashed, handcuffed and gagged, there was a definite difference to her. Without the gag, she felt just a tiny bit less helpless, just the least little bit less out of control. It might not be a rational feeling, but it was about all she had.

  On the other hand…her mind started to wander down trails of its own…her not being gagged just left her mouth more easily accessible to them. She’d already had to let one of them fuck her mouth just to get a drink of water. She shuddered at that memory and her stomach began churning again. Her thirst was beginning to return. Which one of them would she have to let use her body in order to get another drink? And what if he wanted something other than fellatio? No, wait. What had been done to her before wasn’t called fellatio. It had some other name, one that she couldn’t remember. She shuddered.

  Her captors didn’t say much. They trudged along in an unnerving silence, communicating with each other through hand signals that Amy didn’t understand at all.

  hey didn’t have much to say to her either, except for occasional snarled warnings to keep up. The longest conversation any of them had had with her was when her handler was telling her what to do so he could use her mouth. Aside from that, she might as well have been some animal that they had on a leash. That was probably how they were thinking of her anyway.

  They kept on walking, leading her slowly deeper and deeper into the dark woods. It really seemed to be getting darker the deeper in that they went, but it was too early for it to be nightfall approaching. Amy risked quick, furtive looks around. They looked like they were in a very old part of the woods, where the canopy of the trees overhead blocked out most of the sunlight. There was less and less underbrush, only the thick leaf litter that gave her feet some small relief and the winding trail that seemed to go on forever and ever. She whimpered in pain as she stepped on something hard that had been lurking in ambush under the fallen leaves.

  ***

  Corliss hunkered down behind her little stand of bushes, peering intently through the crooked picket fence of stems that rose up out of the ground. She was flat on her belly and trying very hard not to move. Her heart was pounding along at a full gallop, and it required an effort from her not to breathe too noisily. She’d heard a noise that might have been nothing more than a stray breeze ruffling some leaves and while she’d been trying to figure out which direction it had come fro
m she’d heard what could only have been a feminine whimper. They were almost here after all, but much later than she’d expected them. It had to be them. Aside from Amy and herself she doubted if there were any other women out here in the woods.

  Yes! There they were! The men weren’t easy to pick out, as thoroughly camouflaged as they were. There was no missing Amy, though. In the dimmed light under the trees, her naked white body seemed almost to glow, standing out starkly among the somber browns, grays and greens. Corliss frowned. If they’d stripped her, what else might they have done to her, and would that account for their late arrival? Amy did not look well. Her head drooped, and she shambled along rather than walking, her footsteps slow, uncertain and uneven. Corliss noted that she wasn’t gagged with duct tape any more. What could that mean? Did her captors feel safe enough now to un-gag her? But why would they bother to do that at all in the first place, unless…maybe she needed to be able to breathe through her mouth? Maybe they’d given her something to eat or something to drink?

  Corliss lay very still, watching intently. They were moving very slowly, and it was obvious that Amy was really slowing them down. The man in the lead kept scanning right and left as if he was expecting an ambush. The man bringing up the rear kept looking back along the trail as if he was sure they were being followed. The man in the middle, the one leading poor Amy along, was the only one who didn’t act nervous or watchful. Following obediently along behind him at the end of her leash, Amy was a picture of subjection and feminine helplessness.

  No…not feminine…female. Corliss suppressed a shiver. There was something primal and brutal about the small tableau she was watching, something primitive and powerful and darkly fascinating. The camouflage outfits they were wearing rendered the men’s’ forms bulky, uneven and indistinct. Even their faces were hidden, so that they appeared manlike, but not really human. In contrast, the clean symmetrical lines and curves of Amy’s naked body were sharply defined, as were the handcuffs that fettered her and the bright chain that collared her. The only contrast to her pale, naked flesh came from her frightened eyes, the pinkish-brown circles of her nipples, and the wide, neatly-trimmed stripe of light brown hair on her loins. All around her there was nothing but the dark woods, silent and empty and barren of any sign that people had ever been here, and the misshapen, mottled, half-invisible forms of her captors.

  Corliss gnawed at her lower lip. Something about the scene was arousing her as much as it was disturbing her. In all her life, she’d never heard or read about anything like what she was looking at now. Her wildest fantasies had never included anything even remotely like it. She had a sudden urge to pull out her map and reassure herself that there was indeed a town less than ten miles away, and paved roads and houses with real people in them even closer than that. She also had a sudden desire to see if her cell phone could still pick up a signal. There was a familiar but unwelcome stirring deep in her belly. She bit down harder on her lip and concentrated on staying motionless. Soon they would pass by. She was certain where they were going now. Well, pretty certain. She waited for two long minutes after they’d passed from her sight and rose slowly from her cover. Her heart was still pounding, and her legs felt rubbery. She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself, but the picture of helpless, naked Amy and her not-quite-human-looking captors kept swimming up from the depths she kept trying to send it to.

  She did some quick mental calculations. As slowly as they were traveling now, she was sure that she could get to their ultimate destination well ahead of them, even moving cross-country through the woods instead of along a trail. Once she had that place in sight all she had to do was make one call on her cell phone and then wait for the cavalry to arrive in the form of the county sheriff’s department. With any luck, the sheriff would arrive about the same time as Amy and her captors, and Amy would be spared anything worse than the long, unpleasant nature hike she was currently suffering. Maybe she’d come to understand later why it had been necessary to use her as bait. It wouldn’t hurt if Amy was a little bit drunk when she told her. And maybe, one day, Corliss would be able to bring herself to describe that fascinating, disturbing scene and how it had made her feel to somebody. She might have to be at least a little bit drunk to be able to do that.

  ***

  “Hey.” Amy recognized the voice of her handler and braced herself for another hard yank on her leash. It didn’t come, and she fuzzily realized that he wasn’t talking to her at all but to the man in the lead, the one carrying the shotgun. Weary and miserable, she almost walked into the back of her handler before she saw that he’d halted. She tottered to a stop half a step behind him and waited. All she could do was wait, and fight the urge to sink down onto the cold, hard ground to rest. They hadn’t told her that she could do that.

  “Hey what?” the man in the lead stopped and turned around.

  “I think our new pet is getting tired.” Amy’s handler half-turned to look at her. He looked her up and down, slowly and thoroughly. Amy kept her eyes fixed on the ground. She was tired almost beyond imagining, but they hadn’t asked her anything so she was afraid to say anything.

  “So what?” called out the man bringing up the rear.

  “So how ‘bout we give her a little rest…and a little more water?”

  Water sounded good, but there was something about the way her handler had said it that made Amy shudder inwardly. She felt his free hand groping at her breasts and fought back an outward shudder.

  “I’m keepin’ my water for myself,” the point man said.

  “That stream’s clean and safe.” Amy’s handler pointed. Amy risked a glance in the direction he was pointing. Up ahead, just beyond where the point man had stopped, she could see another one of the little streams they’d kept crossing over. Water trickled over and around exposed rocks. The point man looked at the stream and then back.

  “So what?” he asked.

  “C’mon,” Amy’s handler chuckled, rattling the chain. The links, cold and hard, brushed Amy’s nipples. “Don’t you want a turn?”

  The point man seemed to think about it for a moment. Amy could feel his eyes crawling all over her bare flesh. “Well, Hell, why not?” he finally said.

  “Because we’ll be late,” the trail man objected as he came up.

  “We’re gonna be late anyway,” Amy’s handler pointed out. He shook the chain again, and Amy whimpered. “What’s a couple more minutes matter?” He chuckled nastily, his free hand back at Amy’s breasts. “You won’t regret it. She ain’t trained yet, but she’s got some talent.”

  “All right,” the point man shrugged. “Bring ‘er on over.”

  “Come on, bitch,” Amy’s handler took a grip on her leash just short of where the padlock fastened the chain around her neck. “I think you know the drill.”

  ***

  Corliss peered out cautiously from behind a big old tree. What was going on? She’d heard voices, which had warned her that they were a lot closer than she’d thought, but hadn’t been able to hear what they were saying clearly. All she’d been able to tell was that they’d stopped moving for some reason. Curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she’d crept closer to see and hear what was going on. It looked like they were going to stop and rest for a while. For how long? She was too close to them now to risk moving from where she was. Two of the men seemed to be focused on Amy at the moment, but the third was still looking around constantly.

  Corliss saw the man nearest Amy take a very short grip on her leash and start to lead her over to the man standing near the little stream. As he walked, he kept pulling down on the chain leash until Amy was walking sharply bent over. He stopped right in front of the other man and forced Amy to her knees right in front of him.

  No…no…this couldn’t be happening! Corliss kept watching. She had to watch. She couldn’t bring herself to turn away. Amy landed on her knees with a pained grunt and settled back onto her heels. She had her back to Corliss now, and she didn’t seem to be struggli
ng or protesting at all. She lifted her head, looking up at the man in front of her. Corliss couldn’t see, but she was sickeningly sure that Amy had her mouth open. The man in front of her slung his shotgun and stepped closer to Amy, his hands fumbling with his pants. Amy just kept still, unmoving, waiting.

  Horrified, Corliss bit down on her knuckle, hard enough for it to hurt, not quite hard enough to draw blood. From Amy’s pose and attitude, this had happened before. Oh, damn!

  ***

  He smelled of sweat and bug repellent. Amy closed her eyes, holding her mouth open for him. Then she felt his hands gripping the sides of her head and the heavy, blunt tip of his cock sliding in past her lips. Then he stopped thrusting. Instead, he pulled her head forward, slowly, powerfully, inexorably. His cock felt huge! It filled her mouth, pinning her tongue flat. She began to struggle, convinced that he meant to suffocate or choke her with it.

  ***

  Corliss heard Amy’s muffled grunt and saw her begin struggling. Her hands, shackled behind her, fluttered in their bonds and her arms moved wildly from side to side as she tried to pull free of the handcuffs. The man holding her leash bent over to swat her ass hard. Amy yelped, straightening up and making her ass all the more accessible for the following swat on her other cheek. Then Corliss heard Amy coughing and choking. She thought briefly of drawing her 9mm and charging to Amy’s rescue, but she was badly out of practice with the little automatic and the man with the rifle was still holding it at the ready as he scanned the surrounding woods. He was probably much more likely to use it than she was likely to use her gun.