Bear Trap

by Jackie Rabbit

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© Copyright 2020 - Jackie Rabbit - Used by permission

Storycodes: M+/f; fpov; anal; oral; velcro; forest; outdoors; drug; naked; cons; XX

Continues from

Part 2

..."We're agreed on this 'little incident'?" the older man asked his younger counterpart as I listened in, my fate apparently sealed.

"Yup, it never happened. Let me chip her with one of the unassigned ones so we can keep track of her movements, while you write out the tag... You sure nobody can trace that thing back to us?"

"Absolutely. The brass tags are generic, as is the mounting stud, farmers and ranchers have been using them on their own animals for decades. It's the game commission's printing machine with it's stamped serial number and specific font - that I'm obviously not using - that makes this identifiable to us. It would of course be safer to not tag her at all, but where's the fun in that?"

"'Their own animals,' that's funny. We are so going to have to wait for this 'little bear' to fully wake up before we're out of here, ya know. Maybe even play with her a little bit, before the logging camp guys get their hands on her?" the man asked hopefully.

"Those guys sometimes go weeks and months during the summer without even seeing a woman. That reminds me, did I ever tell you about the time I stopped in on them?" the older one asked rhetorically, the two men obviously having a disconnect between their words.

"Think about that for a minute, we F up in a rather big way, and then get overtime to fix it, and possibly even something rather nice and sexy to poke while we wait, all while we get paid for it. I LOVE MY JOB!"

The younger one was fixated on the playing part and not even hearing his partner speak. I was at least glad they weren't pondering throwing me into a pond to drown me, or something just as terrible, but obviously convenient... for them. There would be an end to this adventure, maybe not the exact one I wanted, but these two screw-ups weren't killers either, much to my relief.

The younger one rolled me onto my belly and Velcro strapped my wrists and elbows together, the strapping cut from a large roll of the stuff and likely used on the real bears they ordinarily tagged for an extra level of safety. I was both helpless and flexible, the latter due to my own conditioning and fitness, rather than the paralyzing effect of drugs specifically. He then did something back there, I hearing more than feeling it though. I suspected this was the tracking chip that they had alluded to, the same one that would allow them to know my precise location, and likely placed into the subcutaneous tissue of my ass judging by the size of the needle. I didn't know such a thing could be so small and have any range at all, but I'm not a technology geek either.

The brass animal tag was a different kind of thing entirely, it perhaps small in comparison to a six hundred pound black bear's ear, but it would be massive and archaic on mine. The older man read the inscription he had scratched onto both sides of the tag by hand, his printing likely small and precise to make it all fit:

"I am a snobby naughty nuisance bear from the suburbs, gifted to you by a friend for your unique entertainment, all because I couldn't keep my nose from where it doesn't belong. No matter what I say, know that I deserve whatever punishment you can dream up, and also know that I don't deserve to be released until I sate every twisted one of you. When, or if I've learned my lesson, please bring what's left of me home when you're through with me, and if my begging for mercy gets too annoying, gag me with whatever you would like."

"You should write erotica," the younger man told his counterpart when he had finished reading. The man taking the large brass tag and then placing it on a one handed pliers looking contraption, the mounting stud sticking out ominously. I heard the sickly wet "THUD" sound of the punch doing it's job to my poor right earlobe a moment later, the younger man tenderly moving my long hair from around my ear beforehand so none of it got stuck behind the tag. My only hope was that they had placed the stud into one of the holes already there, but I obviously had bigger problems.

...I supposed it could have been worse, I thought, in a Stockholm syndrome like way. These men could have found several other places to stick such a tag on my nude body, girls getting all sorts of things pierced these days, and I hardly in any condition to prevent them from doing such...

"Now we wait" the one said to the other, the younger of the two then going back to their truck, apparently, for their lunch boxes. I watched them eat as they watched my naked body breathe, reminding myself that it had been almost an entire day since I had eaten, my noisy stomach eventually giving such away to them.

"What do you think they'll do with her?" The younger man asked his older partner, his tone as if seeking knowledge from some wise old sage. My ears perked up when I heard that, as I obviously had a vested interest in learning this too.

"Seriously? What do you want to do with her, once she has full function again?"

"No, no, no, I mean specifically. You said they don't get much female company, and I remember you telling me once that they can be a rough little bunch."

"Okay, that... I had to come up here by myself to check on things once, just before you and I partnered up, and I had stopped off for a three bean burrito on the way. Well that didn't go down so well, so I had to stop and borrow their bathroom, and they were most gracious in lending it to me, but the uniform and badge probably helped with that. Well anyway, as I was sitting there, basically dying, I had some extended time to read the porn magazines on the back of the toilet tank. These were old ones with the pages worn to fragility, but nothing like you've ever seen before; girls staked out spread eagle in the woods, naked, gaping, covered in mud as if recently hunted down like animals, and obviously freshly fucked in all three holes by a whole bunch of guys. Some were strung up to posts with welts from a whip all over their bodies, others hung from their wrists or ankles from the trees, possibly waiting for the whip, or who knows what. You get the idea, some very rough stuff, but I guess that's what rough guys get off on... but to be fair though, it did something for me as well."

"That's just porn, so what?"

"So what indeed. And I might have thought the same thing, except for that last book, a spiral bound photo album hidden underneath all those magazines. In the front of that one were Polaroid instant pictures under a yellowed plastic cover sheet, girls in similar positions, and worse, with the dates and names written in on the margins. Further back in that book were better pictures, from a real film type of camera, with more recent dates. This was some very kinky rough shit, and I'll bet my pension that they were taken here, or at least around here, as logging camps are obviously mobile things. How those girls came to be in those pictures, or how willing their participation was, I never asked, but I thanked them for their toilet, and thought to myself that I owed them one for the hospitality, and here she is..."

I listened intently, wondering when I would ever get another "opportunity" like this one, the thought surprising me. I was quite kinky all by myself, but I always had an out on my kink, I could always use my safe word, either with my loving husband, or with one of the men he had lent me to during our away from home games. Such games provided my husband a necessary break from entertaining me, and were also over the top fun, especially the rare times when there was more than one man as I can be quite the handful. But, these "games" also lacked that "I can't stop this" feeling that one like myself craves. These would be rough and hard "working men," with calloused hands and thick muscles, and skin burned repeatedly by the relentless sun. And, to sound just a little snobbish myself; not ordinarily within my social circle.

I always suspected that if I could only talk to these two ranger guys, and do something wonderful for them to convince them that I indeed had a sense of humor, that I could likely convince them to take me back home, after I had serviced their own kink. Such wouldn't exactly be a hardship for me, and now it even looked like I would get such a chance, they apparently committed to sticking around until I was back up and on my bare feet again, and presumably speaking.

But, did I really want that now, or did I want to instead be abandoned here in the deep woods, naked and bound? I would then be forced to find my way to that logging camp for my very survival, to the only other humans in close proximity, in effect delivering myself as a special unwrapped gift for those horny oversexed rough working men? In a much less than humble way - possibly NOT due to the effects of the drug I had been given - I thought I would make one hell of a surprise gift, especially looking like I know I do. My husband wasn't due back for days either, this really the perfect time to do something like this. It could be like one of my most kinky dreams realized, or even possibly turn into a full blown nightmare instead if those guys were truly sadistic, instead of just creatively horny like I was. My brain wasn't concerned with such trivial thoughts as my physical safety at that moment though, and my normal filter on my words and actions as a back up common sense safety device was missing as well.

"I'm thirsty" I croaked, surprising myself as the feeling started to return to my body once again, starting at my head.

Both guys looked at me, they just as surprised by my first words as I was. This was no demand to be let go, nor tears, nor empty threat to call the police, they knowing at the same time that I had heard every word they'd said since my capture, and their general plans for me once back on my feet.

The younger one jumped up to help me drink some of his water, the gesture kind, despite their obvious and opportunistic intentions. They were however guys, hardwired since puberty with the desires to breed, and we three were out here in the woods all alone. I was also just as naked and helpless as the day I was born, and even bound up conveniently for their purposes, so one couldn't begrudge them their sexual desires. I had a few of those same desires myself, and once this stuff left my system completely I would be able to act on those properly. "Horned up" was an almost perpetual state for me, ever since I had come of age myself, it was something in my metabolism, or perhaps even in my genetic makeup.

Had I wanted to lie my way out of this it might have been so easy, except for the lingering effects of whatever they had injected into me, unstoppable candor instead seeping from my lips. If not for the effects of the bear drugs, I just would have told these two that I did this intentionally to trap them into a mistake, for the purposes of a huge lawsuit, with an accomplice and a trail cam or two set up near their bear trap to document their mistakes. I could ordinarily lie quite convincingly, but not this day.

"Are you two really going to punish me just like a naughty nuisance bear, marooning me naked way out here in the middle of nowhere to fend for myself, at least until I've learned my lesson?" I asked, my sultry tone seeping through quite clearly. I couldn't hide the truth that I thought this was not only a fitting punishment, but something kinky and exciting that I would just love being made to do.

Both guys looked at each other before the older one answered. "Should we?" His tone telling me he had expected anything but this.

"I should think that you two could do anything you liked to me, I'm certain that I've broken several laws by trespassing in your bear trap, and screwing up your job. I took you away from your important work, surely there must be some consequences for such actions."

"True enough. How do you feel?" the older one asked, changing subjects drastically.

"Horny, and hungry, but mostly horny" I answered. But, I did so without my normal verbal filter in place, the one that made it possible for me to behave myself in public around people I didn't want to have sex with. When I spoke with men, and sometimes women to be honest, I had to dial back my "sex appeal," for lack of a better term, so as not to give off the impression that I wanted to bed everyone I came in contact with socially. I had learned how to do this after my rather wild teenage years that I'm frankly lucky to have survived, but all that was gone now, and here I was telling these two strangers - who had in effect abducted and drugged me - what I would really like...

'That's wonderful, and it makes this easier on all of us. We had no idea that you were in there by the way, nor that the drug we gave you made little bears like you horny, but how could we possibly know that? You're guilty of interfering with an officer's duty, criminal trespass, indecent exposure, and with impersonating a game animal for the purposes of deception. These are serious charges, and you would ordinarily be going to jail right now, except that I think we're willing to work something out here so we don't have to involve the court system. You should be properly punished for your crimes though, and I happen to know somebody that can do that for us..."

"So I gathered, and while your logging camp buddies sound like fun, I couldn't help but to wonder, don't you two handsome men have a jail cell someplace that you could lock me up in instead? I could so see myself behind bars, or even in a large cage for you two, just as I am, or maybe with a hobble and a chrome belly chain with cuffs behind my back. You could punish me however you saw fit then, for days on end if you thought you had the stamina. I am a very, VERY naughty little bear you know," my words sexually charged and clearly out on the proverbial table for all to see.

"We actually have access to an overflow stock cage that would work for such purposes, but that might not be ready for today. Tell me, how did you come to be wandering about naked in the woods in the first place?" the man asked reasonably. "And, why on earth did you get into our bear trap at all, if you're not some kind of animal rights nut job?"

"Oh, that? I hike naked all the time, I hate clothes, love the all over tan, can't wait to get out of them the rare times I have to wear any at all. And, this working from home thing of mine is perfect for that, I sometimes go days without wearing a stitch. I even play at some self bondage in the woods when my husband is traveling for work and I find myself needing the kink, as he is right now... He won't be home for days by the way... So anyway, I think I might have been sleepwalking in the early hours this morning as I always sleep in the nude, but I'm not really sure, but it did start to rain, and your trap seemed the perfect refuge, or so I thought."

"Were you one of the homeowners that complained about the bears?" the younger one asked me.

"No," I answered honestly, perhaps his conscience about to get the best of him. If I only could lie, just this one time, I could give them a great reason to be not quite so nice to me.

The two men shared a look, but the older one was still in charge, however I saw the conflict brewing between them.

"We're still going to dump you off here for the logging camp guys as I owe them a favor, but we'll consider locking you up in our cage later on if you manage to survive their rather aggressive version of fun" the man conditioned. I could tell by his tone that he was having second thoughts of his own that he didn't want to voice in front of his partner though, I having a rather good ear for detecting when a man is trying to BS me.

"I've already been staked out spread eagle on the ground, but I've always wanted to be hunted down naked like an animal, and then strung up and whipped, before or after the hunters had their fun with my bound body, that part doesn't really matter to me. I've never had the courage to ask for it though. I'll survive this all right, I'm even kinky enough to get off on it. What about you guys though? Don't you two want to take your proverbial pound of flesh first?" I asked, like no other woman that they had likely ever encountered. This entire conversation was surreal, I sharing things with these strangers that I hadn't told a soul about my entire life - to include my own husband - almost certainly due to the truth serum-like effects of the drugs still flowing through my veins.

"I can see by your wedding bands that you're both married, and I think that makes this easy. Pick something your wives would never do in a million years, or perhaps something that they don't do all that well, and see how well I can do it. I love challenges, and I can't say no, most especially now. And, if I don't exceed your wildest expectations, warm me up with your belt and make me do it again, I truly am one hundred percent at your mercy here!"

I then heard the younger one whimper under his breath, he clearly thinking about my offer, although this was no negotiation in the traditional sense. I was just pointing out the obvious, that I was indeed at their mercy, and that this naked and bound body of mine was built for a man's pleasure in general, and perhaps even for their pleasure specifically as I was still their captive. As an added bonus, I had even delivered my naked self directly into their hands, I was truly their unwrapped gift for the taking. But, more importantly, I was a willing gift looking to get something out of this myself.

"You have a nice ass" the younger one pointed out.

"I have a magnificent ass!" I corrected without shame.

"About the only thing I don't like is ATM, but I suppose that if you wanted that too, I really wouldn't have a choice, would I?"

"ATM?" the older one asked, he still of the generation that likely thought such things were nasty, as did I to be honest.

"Ass to mouth" I explained crudely. "A cleanup blow job after anal sex... in other words. This as opposed to MTA I suppose, I like that just fine," I thought the joke amusing at some level in my chemical infused brain. "You know, playing fluffer, although most men don't need such things once they get a good look at me... in the flesh" I further opined with naked hubris.

...I had at one time thought I was so classy and sophisticated in my big house, or at least this was the persona I sought both around my neighborhood and when actually at the office, but these bear drugs had me speaking like a truck stop whore. I could obviously act like one when I wanted, but this drug induced "candor" was frightening, as if I couldn't turn it off...

I was still unresponsive below my waist when the guys propped me sitting up against a tree, they strapping me in place with still more of the wide industrial strength Velcro from the large roll. The older of the two men admitted that it had been years since his wife had given him a proper blow job, and he being the more senior of the two took his turn first. His guy hardware was average in every way, but there's nothing wrong with average, and in short order he was holding the back of my head to keep it from bouncing up against the tree I was strapped to and face fucking me like a barbarian. He hadn't even bothered to strip, only opening his zipper and allowing me access to his man bits in that manner, as if "I" wasn't worth the bother of getting properly naked in front of his friend!

I provided nothing more than a willing and warm orifice for his eventual deposit as if my life depended on it, the use of my hands prohibited by my bonds, but I had done such things before quite successfully for far more aggressive men than he. It was over disappointingly fast, but I happily nursed and sucked on his organ and consumed everything he had to give, pulling and drawing every last little bit from his trembling body like no woman likely ever had. He tasted surprisingly good, and I would tell him as much once my mouth was empty, but to speak with one's mouth full was a major etiquette faux pas. Some women like fine wine, and have a palate for such, where my tastes lean in a slightly lower and more practical direction, this the first "food" to enter my belly in almost a whole day.

I looked up into his eyes submissively as his deflating organ eventually slipped from my lips, I smiling and licking those same lips as if savoring a favorite snack.

"You're delicious by the way, thank you" I told the astonished man. I knew that such was not even close to my best work, but the overall kink of the moment had likely meant that he wasn't going to last long no matter what I did, or didn't do. Even being older, perhaps he might have time to recharge his batteries before they had to dump me off for the logging camp guys to have the real fun, giving me a second opportunity to really show him what I could really do.

"Your turn, Stud Muffin" I told the younger man while looking his way as seductively as I could. "Or, is that Mr. Ass Man?" I corrected.

My sitting up posture was hastening the chemical's exit from my body, my legs starting to regain function, as was everything between them and my shoulders. I couldn't walk properly yet, but I could stand, Mr. Ass Man pulling me to my feet and propping me up against the tree I had been leaning against, once released from the Velcro encircling the tree.

"Why don't you take a walk and catch a nap in the truck?" Mr. Ass Man asked his older partner. "I'll be along in a bit," the man added with a lecherous smile.

The older man looked as if he needed a nap anyway, post orgasm, such even deflating my own much younger husband. I had this effect on men, wearing them out sexually before they could do the same for me. It was at times a curse, hence the need for additional playmates other than my husband, less I accidentally kill him with sex long before his time. Younger men were better in this regard, but generally speaking less experienced, they selfishly doing for themselves first, instead of me. There were exceptions obviously, but finding ones such as those without emotional baggage to go along was difficult at best. I wasn't looking for a next husband, only a stand in lover, the difference difficult for most men to conceptualize. Married men were generally better in this regard, they liking a "no holds barred" playmate for their own shallow physical purposes, most wives far too proper to do the things I liked doing.

With the older man on the way toward their truck for his nap, I thought the younger Ass Man might just take his pound of flesh from me right there, once we were alone. I couldn't have been more wrong though, he instead binding my ankles together with the velcro strap from the tree, and then throwing me over his strong left shoulder like a sack of beans. It felt as if I had instead been thrown over the rump of a large horse, the powerful mount under me obviously a breathing and living thing, but rigidly powerful and unyielding. His left hand held my bound ankles in place with my womanhood resting directly on his shoulder, his right picking up the roll of velcro strapping, I watching helplessly from behind as he walked deeper into the woods with an obvious purpose.

He stepped over and around several obstacles in his trek, but never once did I think he would drop me, nor did I question his motives. My womanhood where it ground on his firm shoulder felt good, so much so that I felt the chill of the mess I was slowly leaving there, I never having any shortage of such humanly manufactured lubricant when properly aroused. Such made many things possible, as my muscular captor was about to find out.

Our eventual destination was a large fallen oak tree, but there were many such trees in this particular forest, and was likely the reason for the logging guys to be in this part of it to begin with. Down along with the large oak tree was a much smaller one though, and I was placed standing with my bound ankles between both, with my heels up against the smaller tree laying almost directly on the ground and parallel to the larger one. That smaller one was approximately a four inch tree, the larger downed oak tree having perhaps a twenty inch diameter trunk, it's stump and root base looking as if recently uprooted in a windstorm. The larger of the two was suspended about hip height before me, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to see the plan forming in Mr. Ass Man's mind, the outdoor self bondage enthusiast in me seeing opportunity as well.

My captor didn't say a word as he removed his uniform shirt, he taking notice of the wet spot I had caused on his shoulder with a smile though. He then laid his shirt over the rough bark of the tree before me, his intentions now more obvious, as was his concern that the rough bark might scratch up the more tender and soft skin on my belly and chest, before the logging camp guys whipped me raw. His white undershirt was next, and hidden under that was a magnificently muscular body, it's strength hinted at with how easily he had shouldered his earlier burden through the woods. This man had a BODY, and I so wanted him at that instant, although I know these desires were shallow and self serving!

"You look like candy to me!" I gushed honestly, there nothing I couldn't imagine I wouldn't like to do with a young man that looked like this.

"Thank you" he told me humbly.

"I don't want to leave you with the logging camp guys, although I realize that right now you likely think that will be fun. Who knows what happened to those other girls once those guys were done with them though? I'm not willing to take that chance with you, unless I was there to personally make sure things didn't get too far out of hand" my surprisingly thoughtful captor informed me.

"Please fuck me now, we can discuss later afterwards" I begged crudely, I knowing that I would have already been rubbing myself off, even with him watching, if not for my bonds.

As if in response to my crude request the man got down on his knees behind me and had me spread my legs, he tapping the inside of each calf as I further stretched my flexible body. "Did he know that I could do a full split?" I wondered, although that would have put me in a less than ideal position for the tree I was to bent over.

When my ankles were a good four feet apart he then strapped them firmly to the smaller fallen log with my heels pressed tightly against it. He then swatted my ass several times, first lifting and holding my bound wrists out of the way before he did so. I didn't originally think he was going to paddle me with his hand, and while not quite the whipping I had alluded to needing, it was deliciously close.

To my disappointment he was instead just roughly brushing the loose dirt from my ass from all I had been through with the guys, he then kissing my ass all over, to include deeply, telling me his interest in my "magnificent" ass was no casual thing. He had lost the bandanna covering his face at some point, but his risk of me turning him in was slight, as he now almost certainly realized. While he was making out with my ass he reached under and tested the proverbial waters, I gushing and ready, and not just because of the bear drugs.

He then got up and sat on the log before me, roughly brushing the dirt from my boobs as well, my nipples painfully and obviously erect from his smacks. Once they were clean enough he nursed on each, I thrusting them to within easier reach for him, telling him without words that I was up for all of it. With my arms bound as they were my chest was thrust out anyway, but my body wanted what he was doing, my movements little more than practiced reflex actions.

"Rougher" I commanded, letting him know that my boobs liked rough, although I'm sure most other girls don't. It's just the way I'm wired, pain and pleasure getting mixed up in my brain someplace, most especially when I'm horned up.

In response, he kneaded the flesh of my boobs like stubborn dough, his strong hands mashing them and making me moan. My own husband just couldn't be this rough with me, and I had given up trying such things with him. When Ass Man tired of mashing my boob flesh he then startled me, pulling me off balance toward the spot he had just vacated before me on the large fallen tree trunk, eventually laying me down on it, but on top of his shirt as well. He pulled me there by my boobs, using them as convenient handles as I slow motion fell forward, Ass Man not letting me free fall though, as did my own powerful legs pinned in place as they were.

Legs spread and all I still could have possibly sat up - as my thighs were in contact with the large tree trunk - if I had wanted to, but Ass Man had a plan for this. He simply took the remaining roll of wide velcro, looping it over my hips, and then passing two equal lengths of it under the large log and toward my head. He then looped each end over the back of my neck - that was hanging off the other side of the tree closest to him - strapping the sticky stuff together and firmly trapping me in place. This was a magnificent position worthy of a self bondage ordeal all by itself, and I pulled and tested my bond's security from the sheer thrill of it, but this only increased my sexual need exponentially as my captor silently watched me writhe and struggle.

I looked up into Ass Man's eyes, after being one hundred percent certain that I wasn't going anywhere, my lust not hidden in the least. He was still half dressed though, and I had to endure watching him strip off the remaining uniform he wore, but revealed under that was the rest of a truly magnificent body, to go along with his obviously kinky and creative mind. His own wife was truly a lucky woman, but I would gladly borrow him from her for a bit, I left wondering what she foolishly WOULDN'T do for a young man like this.

This of course was an assumption on my part - I assuming that his lucky wife was into such things - as I know from personal experience with several husbands, that many wives are rather vanilla in their bedroom preferences once comfortably married. I was, in stark contrast, trapped in a position for anything he might like to have, from vanilla, to everything under the sun, I hoping for the latter as I was at that point about as hot as I ever remember being.

My captor first offered his half hard self to my willing lips, he having to bend his knees to get into the range of my very limited movement, but I attacked him nonetheless like I was starving, and he the only thing to eat for a hundred miles. He wasn't the largest man I had ever fellated, but I had come to learn that size wasn't everything. With that being said, he was far from the smallest too. I knew I could easily "do" him like this, just as I had done for his older partner, but such wouldn't "do" anything for me, and in addition seemed a waste with the opportunistic position I was bound up in.

He must have thought so too, because once I had properly fluffed him he pulled away from me and hopped over the log I was laying across, he jumping effortlessly to the other side with a surplus of energy as if he did this all the time. His muscular frame moved in a catlike manner worthy of an apex predator, and that made me the prey, a fitting analogy, I thought in my mind.

One couldn't blame the man for his haste to sate his desires after building such a creative trap for me, my mind going in a similar direction obviously, but the reflex desire to arch my back was overwhelming when he first rubbed his hard self at my slick entrance. I groaned out loud as I needed this with every fiber of my existence, his entrance easy all things considered. He buried himself deep in one stroke as my head came up and I felt the veins on my neck stand out, but the move was arrested by the thick strapping going over the back of my neck and holding me down submissively.

I loved to struggle, but not being able to move my head about was a new thing, except when a lover held it in his hands for the obvious reasons. This was a mechanical restraint of my neck, something to be avoided when playing at self bondage for the obvious reasons of self preservation, and being bound like this by one of my stand in lovers was something they hadn't tried... yet. That meant that we might need to invest in a good high quality collar for me at some point, but I had more immediate concerns at the moment.

Mr. Ass Man was enjoying himself back there, he even bumping my special spot every now and again and making me twitch, but it was obvious that he wasn't working at making me orgasm, or that he wasn't all that good at this if he was, despite his magnificent body.

"Pleeeease!" I begged him, hoping he was toying with me, instead of his being far out of his element with a woman like myself. I could be intimidating to certain men, they all liked to look at my body, but not all that many had the courage to make actual eye contact, or do even more than that, even with my husband's approval. The ones that could cross that hurdle and bed me though, for those men I was a thrill ride without equal.

...A fleeting thought then popped into my mind, Mr. Ass Man with the magnificent body was like a teenager finding the hidden keys to the spare family car, knowing he wants to take it for a ride, but not knowing exactly how...

In that analogy I was like his hitchhiker passenger, I having to school this young man in the driver's seat, without hurting his feelings, so that we both got where we wanted to get to.

"Lower... slower... Yes, just... like... that..." I counseled the magnificent body pounding into me from behind. Then it happened, an epic orgasm almost without equal, my young lover hitting my special spot with every thrust, AND creatively touching off with his thumb on my back passage. I bucked and thrashed about in my bonds as if a switch had been thrown inside my bound body, with unintelligible guttural sounds escaping from deep within. My intense thrashing orgasm hadn't brought on one his own though, so in a way this somewhat unskilled lover had achieved something miraculous. I could do this a dozen times in a row if I didn't get sore and raw first, where even young men could only pop off so many times without recharging, it in a way seeming unfair to them I thought.

Still he pulled out, but while hard and ready, I feeling both the vacuous empty feeling of his absence, and my significant mess drip onto the shirt I was laying on. I knew that meant he was a mess too, but not from his own deposit. I half expected he might like a cleanup blow job with a big happy finish half way down my throat, and I would have happily given him such in exchange for the epic orgasm he had given me. But, he had other ideas, the earlier clues there had I been paying better attention, my nickname for him quite fitting.

I felt him repositioning, higher, my legs pinned wide and I offering easy access. I was no stranger to this, I had even grown to like it, although it rarely brought me to orgasm all by itself. Still this man had given me something first, and I was his bound prisoner, so he was free to take what he wanted anyway, even without my offering him anything he might like earlier.

Ordinarily such things were done with one of several lubricants, all home safely in my nightstand drawer though, and not here. He wasn't the largest man I had ever entertained either, although likely one of the harder ones. He lined up on me back there and pushed, gently, but relentlessly, my natural reaction being to clench up and deny access.

I consciously fought that urge though, although the fear of what exactly that might feel like without proper lubricant was still there. He was slick with my juices though, and this plus my experience with other men allowed him to work his way inside me back there. I groaned as the largest part of him gained access, and not surprisingly he did too. There was friction to be sure, as well as a tightness, and these things must have felt just wonderful for him judging by the noises he was making.

He grabbed my hips and tried to establish a rhythm with me, but it was all too much for him, he shortly thereafter going bodily stiff and rigid on me and unloading deep inside. I felt everything, he pulling out while still hard, this better for me than waiting for him to fully deflate, should he want some nasty ATM for himself. I didn't like such things, but I wasn't in a position to stop him either.

He was exhausted now, and apparently sated, coming around to "my" side of the log once again, but in a slow and cautious manner this time as if his energy had been instantly drained. I expected him to take that which I liked the least, but his positioning on my side of the log was for conversation instead. He already had what he wanted physically, and could take anything he might like next, he not needing to talk to me at all. Men used me for my body, almost all men, chatting me up before sex as part of the game, but rarely afterwards, after their needs had been met. I did the same with them to be honest, so in this we were equally shallow, with the exception of my husband obviously.

"Now what do I do with you?" my captor asked reasonably, as if his plans didn't ponder an "after" to all this kink.

...I kind of felt the same way, and while not physically sated to the level he apparently was, I had definite second thoughts on being delivered to the logging camp guys for what would surely be an extended torture and rape session. It always went like this for me; beforehand any self bondage adventure seemed just wonderful, but post orgasm I always asked myself "what have I just done?" It was the same with my extramarital lovers... once they had scratched that particular itch for me. And my husband still allowed it, knowing a part of me needed such rough things every now and then...

"I should think anything you might like" I answered insincerely, I was still his bound and helpless captive.

"Was that a little better than you've been getting at home?" I then asked, to lighten the mood.

"I've never done that a single time" he confessed. This one had promise; honesty, and that killer young man's body. All he needed was some training and experience, and I could help him with that. His young wife might even thank me one day for it.

"I'm going to take you home now, in the back of the truck though, we'll discuss later another time, unless you want to report me to the authorities instead?"

"Not a chance" I replied...


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