The Dark Woods & Other Bondage Stories

by S. J. Lewis

  She wanted to close her eyes, turn away, stop watching. But she couldn’t close her ears, so she would still be able to hear what they were doing to Amy, and in any case she didn’t seem to be able to pry her gaze away. She couldn’t help herself: She just had to watch. Then she suddenly realized that she tasted blood. She still had her knuckle clamped tightly in her teeth. She pulled it out and kept watching, grinding her teeth now until her jaws hurt.

  Amy’s tormentor let go of her head. Amy sagged back and off to one side. She looked like she was going to fall over, but the guy with her leash propped her up. Amy’s head drooped. Corliss could hear her coughing and gasping. The men waited until she got her breath back and then the man she’d been sucking off took her head in his hands again and pulled her up and towards him.

  ***

  “Come on, bitch.” The voice was low, growling and menacing. “If you ain’t gonna do the work, I’ll have to, and you already know how that works.”

  Amy leaned forward, her mouth open wide, looking up at him fearfully. She had no doubt that he meant what he said. She took him into her mouth hesitantly. He was big…very big, and very hard now. She let the heavy, blunt head of his cock slide in past her lips, whimpered once, and then took him in a little further, but not too far. Just having him in her mouth made her want to gag. She could resist that, but only up to a point. She pulled back slowly, her lips sliding along the throbbing shaft, then slowly moved forward, taking him in just a little bit deeper. If she just concentrated on the mechanics of what she was doing it wasn’t quite so bad…but it was bad enough. Oh, yes. It was bad enough. She closed her eyes and started to move a little faster, anxious to get this over with. She could keep herself from gagging, but she couldn’t help whimpering while she worked.

  ***

  Corliss swallowed, then a moment later swallowed again, lying prone behind her tree, watching intently. She realized that she was actually salivating at the sight of Amy’s submission, and felt herself reddening at the realization. What the Hell was wrong with her? She shuddered. She could imagine how the man’s cock felt in Amy’s mouth, how it must have felt when the other man had slapped her ass so hard. She could even imagine how the cold steel of the handcuffs felt around Amy’s wrists, the heavy weight of the bright chain locked around her slender neck. These imaginings were coming to her on their own accord, and they were getting to her. She felt aroused, and it made her feel dirty. What was wrong with her? She dug her fingers into the dirt and gritted her teeth even harder. She couldn’t look away at all now. She had to see everything, she had to see what happened when the man came. Would he make Amy swallow? Corliss ground her hips against the hard dirt without quite realizing it. She had all she could do to keep from making any noise that might be heard, not to make any movement that might be spotted. She kept watching.

  ***

  Now she had a good rhythm going. Amy kept her eyes closed, so she could concentrate on what she was doing without having to think about it. She heard the man groan once, and then she felt his fingers digging into her hair. She quickened her pace. It would be over soon, now, very soon. Then she would get her reward. They would let her drink from the stream, and she could wash the taste of him from her mouth. There was still that third man, but he didn’t seem interested in her at all. Not yet, anyway. She was sure that he would be eventually. She’d endure that when the time came for it.

  ***

  Corliss’ jaws were aching. Her heart was thudding wildly in her ears, and her whole body was trembling. She could only see Amy from behind, but it looked as if she was really getting into sucking that cock now. Her hands were clenched into fists, but she wasn’t struggling any more. It was quiet enough so that Corliss could hear the tiny grunts that Amy made with each stroke. The man she was sucking put both of his hands on her head and groaned. Amy’s hands unclenched. Her fingers wriggled briefly before she balled her hands back into fists. Then she made a high-pitched squealing noise of protest through her nose as the man groaned again. Corliss saw his hips jerk once, twice, three times, each jerk driving another nasal squeal from Amy. He groaned one last time. Then he let go of Amy and stepped away, zipping up his pants. Amy bent over, coughing and sputtering. The man holding her leash slapped her upturned ass, but it somehow looked as if he was congratulating her for a job well done.

  ***

  “Oh, man!” Amy heard her attacker exclaim. “You were right. She is good!” She just kept coughing, trying to spit the last of his load out onto the ground.

  “Think how much better she’ll be once she’s been trained,” her handler chuckled nastily. “She’ll even swallow then, and beg for more.” He gave her leash another one of those infuriating tugs. “Come on, bitch,” he said to her. She could almost hear the grin he must be wearing behind his mask. “You earned your drink. Come on, this way.”

  Amy shuffled forward on her knees, slowly covering the few feet of space that lay between her and the edge of the little stream. Still kneeling, she bent over, lowering her head to a small pool of water backed up behind some rocks. She knew that the pose exposed her pussy to the view of anyone who felt like looking, but she was beyond caring about preserving what little was left of her modesty. She lapped tentatively at the water. It tasted clean and cold. She painstakingly lapped up a mouthful and swished it around in her mouth before spitting it out onto the ground. Now with most of that awful, salty taste out of her mouth she could concentrate on drinking. She didn’t know how long they would let her drink, so she lapped and slurped vigorously. She even arched her back and wriggled her hips a little to give them something to look at while she drank. It might buy her a little more time.

  They let her drink her fill, making crude comments about her as they waited. Her handler kept stroking her back and her ass, as if he was petting a dog. Amy felt her face burning with shame, but it was much more important to get the water she had worked so hard for, so she tried to ignore them, and the hands caressing her bare flesh.

  ***

  Corliss watched as Amy drank. The man holding her leash crouched down next to her and started caressing her back, and then her upturned ass. Amy seemed to ignore him, even when he reached around under her to quickly fondle her breast. It looked like he was saying something to Amy, but Corliss couldn’t hear what it might be. Amy ignored him and kept on drinking from the small stream. Finally she knelt upright again and let out a long sigh. When her handler helped her get to her feet, Corliss noted that Amy looked even more worn and tired than before. Well, that wasn’t surprising. Amy seemed to sway on her feet for a moment. Her handler reached out to help keep her upright, taking advantage of his opportunity to fondle her breast again, cupping and squeezing it in one big hand. Amy barely seemed to notice it. The party fell into line and set off down the trail again. Amy was limping now.

  Corliss waited until well after the trail main had disappeared into the woods, then forced herself to wait one long minute more. Then she rolled over onto her back and took several long, deep breaths. Her body was trembling and her jaws ached. It took a few more deep breaths before she felt steady enough to get to her feet. Once on her feet, she had to lean against her tree for a little while because her legs felt weak. What she’d just witnessed was the brutal oral rape of a helpless woman. Why had it left her feeling so aroused? It had also left her soaked in her own sweat, and the day wasn’t that warm. Her clothes were starting to feel clammy against her skin. She was still concerned for Amy, but she was becoming more and more worried about herself.

  She took one last, long breath and stood away from the tree so she could brush the dead leaves and dirt off of her. She still had a job to do, and she’d best get about doing it. If nothing else, she owed it to Amy.

  The Dark Woods – Chapter Three

  The map wasn’t as good as Corliss had hoped it would be. It didn’t show just how rugged the terrain became the further she went into the woods. She paused at the top of a low but steep rise and leaned against a handy tree whil
e she caught her breath. She hoped there weren’t too many more of these slopes between her and the place she was trying to get to. She’d thought she was in pretty good shape, but scrambling up and down through these dark woods was taking it out of her. A couple of days a week at the gym hadn’t really prepared her for playing commando girl outdoors. This was starting to feel like an endless turn on a Stairmaster with a pack full of bowling balls strapped to her back.

  She uncapped her canteen and took a swig of water. There wasn’t much left. This hiking was warm work, and she’d been taking small drinks at regular intervals to stay hydrated. She doffed her bush hat and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. At this rate, she’d be out of water long before she got where she meant to go. Well, it should all be over soon. She could go thirsty for a while if she had to, but according to the map she was about to come upon a stream. Since the map hadn’t shown any of the other little streams that flowed through these woods, the one that it did show ought to be a respectable size. Maybe it was big enough for her to take a quick stop to refill her canteen. That should be okay, shouldn’t it? Amy’s captors had let her drink from a stream. Corliss wished that she knew more about surviving in the wilds, but she remembered reading that drinking from a fast-flowing stream was usually safe.

  She sighed heavily and jammed her hat back on her head. The day was getting warmer, and there weren’t any breezes here in the woods. She could feel sweat trickling down her back and along her ribs, and wondered how uncomfortable the men in their camo suits were starting to feel. She started walking. There was still a long way to go, and she was tired. She owed it to Amy, though, to keep on going. Actually by now she owed poor Amy a lot more than that. She’d never thought that things would go so far so fast. If she had, she never would have set Amy up the way she had. Now every time she closed her eyes she could see Amy, naked and handcuffed and miserable, kneeling in front of that man, sucking his cock until he came in her mouth. Sometimes she didn’t even need to close her eyes for that to happen. Corliss shuddered every time the image forced itself on her. It was brutal, it was horrible, it was awful! And even so, she hadn’t been able to look away. Amy had looked so pitiful, so submissive, so very naked and helpless.

  Corliss came to a stop, leaning wearily against another tree. The image was returning, and her legs were feeling weak anyway. She stifled a moan. This time, as the scene played out in her mind, she was in Amy’s place, suffering and submitting. Worse, this new version was getting her aroused…moist. That bothered her more than anything. What was wrong with her, anyway? She’d never had any fantasies like that before, let alone done anything even remotely like it.

  Never mind. Never mind. She had important work to do, and her time to do it was getting short. She drew herself upright and checked her compass. Yes. That way. She started walking.

  ***

  “Come on, bitch.” Amy’s handler gave her leash another tug. It was just as uncomfortable and demeaning as before, but Amy was getting too tired to care. “Not too much further to go,” he said encouragingly. “You can do it. Then we’ll let you rest.”

  Amy groaned. It required an enormous effort, but she took a step, and then another, and another. The soles of her feet felt like raw meat now. The muscles of her legs ached, and there was a constant dull throbbing in her shoulders and back from spending so much time handcuffed. She hoped desperately that they weren’t lying to her about not having much further to go. She wasn’t sure that she could make it, even if they were telling the truth. What would they do if she just collapsed on the trail? They might just drag her along by her chain until she got back up or died. They hadn’t shown the least bit of mercy to her so far…except maybe for giving her water. But they’d made her suck cock first, and the second time she’d had to drink out of a stream, like an animal. That wasn’t mercy, it was just another cruel game they could play on their captive: Offer her something she needed badly to get her to her do something they wanted.

  What would happen when they finally got to wherever it was they were going? That thought had worried her relentlessly at the beginning of this long, weary hike. As time had gone by, though, her aching, growing weariness and bruised and tortured feet had pushed the thought out of her mind. Now it was returning, but somehow it didn’t seem quite so dreadful. Maybe her mind was just dulled by her approaching exhaustion. She was sure that they’d rape her again…and again, however and whenever they wanted. As long as they let her lie down while they did it, she thought she could endure. Was that their reason for making her walk all this way? To wear her down physically so that it would be easier to break her will? If that was their plan, it was working. It was working fiendishly well.

  ***

  Corliss scrambled awkwardly up another steep slope and paused, panting from her exertions. There was an equally steep slope going down the other side into a wide ravine, and then yet another steep slope going up on the far side. She wanted to sob from frustration. There was almost certainly another ravine on the far side of that slope, and then another ravine, another slope…why hadn’t the map shown how rugged this part of the woods was? Each slope seemed to get steeper and steeper. Sooner or later she’d lose her footing and tumble down into one of those ravines and have no strength left to climb out. No one would know what had happened to her, and only her captors would know what had happened to Amy.

  She couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t do that to Amy, especially not after getting her into that terrible situation. She half-climbed, half-crawled down the slope and staggered over to the stream. It was a couple of feet wide, burbling and splashing along the rocks that lined its bed. The water looked clear enough, but she hesitated, unsure. She hefted her canteen. There wasn’t much water left in it at all now, no more than a mouthful or two at best. It certainly wouldn’t last her much longer.

  An hour or two ago, she wouldn’t have risked it, figuring that it would all be over before she had a chance to get really thirsty. Now she wasn’t so sure. By the map, she still had quite a ways to cover, and clambering up and down through this seemingly endless series of ravines was hard work. Worse yet, the air under the canopy of trees was warm and stagnant. She uncapped her canteen and drank the last of the water in it. Then she squatted by the stream, looking for a good place to refill it. She found one and lowered the canteen into the water slowly and carefully. She didn’t want to get any silt or bits of leaves along with the water, which felt very cold.

  The canteen was almost full when she suddenly felt that there was someone or something else here with her. The sensation was so abrupt, and so certain, even though she hadn’t heard or seen anything to make her feel that way, that the hair on the back of her neck stood up and her heart began to hammer. She tried to act unconcerned as her mind raced, trying to think of her next move. A last bubble of air floated up from the mouth of the canteen.

  “I think it’s full now.” The voice, deep and gravelly, came from close behind her. Corliss yelped, leaping across the stream in exactly the same way a startled frog would. She landed awkwardly on the far side. She rolled, dropping the canteen and scrabbling for the 9mm automatic holstered at her hip, wishing that she hadn’t worn a holster that buttoned down for security. She came up on one knee, facing towards the source of that voice, still fumbling with that damned holster, her eyes wide and staring.

  “Don’t bother.” He was average height, but his upper body was so powerfully muscled that he could have buttoned a dress shirt all the way up and then pulled it on over his bald head. He sported a black goatee that seemed to come to a point under his chin. He stood calmly, massive arms folded, looking at Corliss with an amused smile.

  Corliss looked him over quickly: Dark, sleeveless t-shirt that fit his torso like a coat of paint, black jeans, heavy, dark-brown trail boots. He didn’t appear to be armed, but he seemed like enough of a threat with all those muscles. Still looking at him, she finally managed to unfasten the holster.

  His smile faded away, to be re
placed with a frown. He didn’t say anything, he just shook his head slowly. Corliss had her hand on the grip of her automatic now, but she hesitated. She wanted to ask ‘why not?’, but since he hadn’t said anything, asking the question out loud seemed oddly pointless. She stood up slowly, facing him. Could she draw the pistol, chamber a round, and fire before he could cover the ten or twelve feet between them? The stream wouldn’t be much of an obstacle. He still didn’t say anything, but her nodded his head once, off to Corliss’ left. She risked a quick glance in that direction. There was nothing over that way but some trees and a bush. No, wait. She risked a longer look. The bush wasn’t a bush at all, but another man in strange, shaggy camouflage. His face was painted in camouflage as well, and he held a shotgun with a camouflage-patterned stock. It wasn’t exactly aimed at her, but it was pointed in her general direction.

  Corliss looked back at the man with the goatee. Now he smiled and nodded towards Corliss’ right. She didn’t bother looking this time. She knew without looking that there was somebody over there too. She let go of her pistol and slowly raised her hands up over her head. She wasn’t about to start a gunfight when she was so badly outmatched, and she was just too tired to try to run. She felt numb. Maybe she should have felt something else: Anger, fear, despair, panic…but she just felt numb. Numb, and bone-weary.

  The man with the goatee was wearing that annoyingly smug half-smile again. He came towards her, easily jumping over the stream. He stopped closer to her than she felt comfortable with, but she didn’t try to back away. She kept perfectly still as he unbuckled her gun belt and tossed it away, the automatic still in its holster. He tossed her hat away as well. Then he told her to put her hands on her head. She obeyed, and he patted her down expertly, taking away her compass, her map, the pocket file of aerial photos, her cell phone, even the folding knife she’d hidden in the top of her boot. She tried not to look at him while he did that. His eyes were ice-blue, and unsettling. He seemed to want her to look into them. Not doing so was the only form of resistance open to her at the moment. Instead, she looked over to her right. There was indeed another man over there, clad in the same strange, shaggy camouflage outfit. He looked smaller than the others, but the pump shotgun he carried was plenty big enough. His face was unreadable behind the bits of his outfit that obscured it and its coating of mottled green and brown paint.