So before I run, I’ll give him the same gift in return.
I clear my throat. What does it matter, what I tell him? He’ll never be able to tell another soul, and not because he can’t speak. He’s bound by what he’s done to me, imprisoned for eternity by his own actions, and so I stroke his cock through his pants as I speak. “I’ve never been with a man like you. I…I keep wondering if it’ll hurt…and if it does…”
My gaze finds his, and he’s about to explode like he did that time in the shower. So I drive my eyes into his and whisper, “I think I’ll like it.”
That’s all it takes. Those words and the pressure of my palm stroking him through his jeans. He releases a breathy sort of groan and bucks his hips upward, seeking more pressure from my hand, dry humping it as he blows his hot load of cum. The amount is enough to seep through the dense fabric and coat my hand, the pungent scent of semen mingling with his body wash and the fresh, sweet air of a summer’s night.
My pussy clenches in answer, weeping because I truly do want to experience the magnitude of a man like him…
But instead I do the only thing I’ve ever been good at…
I run.
It’s impossiblydifficult to see once I reach the woods surrounding his home, but I remember from all the crime and survival shows I’ve watched to go downhill. Downhill is water, and usually civilization. My bare feet are stabbed repeatedly by rocks and twigs, and more than once I ram straight into a branch that materializes like a phantom from the darkness. I’m notquiet by any means, but neither is he as he crashes through the bushes and trees some distance behind me.
My lungs ache with how quickly I am panting, gulping at the air like a fish out of water, and my pace slows the further into the forest I’m drawn. The sudden realization that this was a stupid, half-cocked plan wrenches a sob from my lips, and I cry to the night in desperation. I want to go home, to my childhood bedroom where my mother and father are just down the hall to chase away my bad dreams.
But I just as equally want the monster who now features in those nightmares to catch me and punish me for being such a tease.
What I don’t expect to happen, however, is to stumble upon another house so soon, soft, golden lighting spilling from shaded windows, the ramshackle structure barely standing, and the scent of skunk—weed—heavy in the air.
Just as I’m about to burst forth from the tree line, I skid to a stop, arms flailing to halt my forward momentum. There’s a bonfire, and barking dogs, and numerous male figures looming about.
And something—maybe intuition—crawls up the back of my neck like a spider and whispers warnings in my ear. There’s something horribly wrong about this scene, and it takes me a moment to figure out what…
But then I see them. Guns. On their hips. Strapped across their backs. Glinting, malicious pieces of metal used to destroy.
They’re guarding something—drugs, I’m guessing—and as badly as I wanted to escape Kage, I just as badly don’t want to become a toy for these men before they kill me.
Holding my breath, I take a slow step backwards, further into the safety of the darkness—when my heel snaps a twig. Everything goes silent, even the dogs—massive black houndswith chains around their thick throats. Their keen eyes are pinned on me, hackles raised, ears pointed.
“You hear that?” One of the men grumbles. “Go check it out.”
Lip wobbling, I’m pinned and frozen to my spot, stuck wavering between impossible options when a warm, familiar hand slaps over my lips and grips my cheeks so hard I cry with pain and fright. Kage yanks me back into his sweltering hold, his chest rising and falling with his ragged, rapid breaths.
My fingers claw at his wrist, and I’m unsure if I’m begging to be let go, or wishing he’d grip me harder and take me away from the danger at present.
Choices stripped from me, his thick forearm cages me in by my belly, and he rips me off of my bleeding feet, stalking us as silently as a ghost back into the cover of the forest, the flickering light of the bonfire slowly becoming eclipsed by the heavy branches. Just when we’re out of eyesight of the dilapidated cabin, Kage spins me around in his arms, his furious eyes glowing through the night. His mask has slipped, showcasing his high cheekbones and the bony ridge of his nose.
He’s enraged, and so I do the only thing I know to do in a moment where I think I’m in deep shit; I start wailing into his palm, my cries muffled by his rough skin.
It always used to work on my dad. He’d get one swat in before I morphed into a princess he was forced to placate instead of punish. My brother always hated it, how I got away with everything under the sun the second I turned on the waterworks and he received the lash of the belt.
Kage’s eyes narrow in his fury, and he shakes his head, as if to say,I’m not falling for it. Which only makes my tears multiply and become somehow more desperate. Struggling to get out of his hold, the taste of freedom still potent on my tongue, I’m instead shoved against the thick trunk of a tree and pinned therewith his hips. He shakes his head again—not hurt by my actions, thankfully, but definitely exasperated by me.
Before I can make sense of what he’s doing, he spins me around and forces my front to the tree, exposing my backside to him. Because of this, he’s unable to keep his hand on my mouth, but I know better than to start screaming for help.
Those men a few hundred yards away aren’t the type to help a damsel in distress.
So I blubber and cry into the rough bark as he twists my wrists and pins them together to my lower back. “I’m…I’m sorry…I won’t do it again…”
I know I won’t receive an answer, but what I don’t expect is for him to rip the shorts down my legs and bare my ass to the wild. Wriggling in mounting fear, I try to crane my neck and catch a glimpse of him to determine what he’s doing, but he’s impossibly strong, and it’s hopeless.
“Kage…what’re you…please!” I whisper-whine.
The first smack across my ass cheek is heard before it’s felt, a cracking sound echoing through the woods before a fiery, biting pain erupts across my tender skin, forcing me up onto my toes, my jaw dropping open and a garbled screech clawing its way up my throat.
Did he just fucking spank me?
