Roy’s thick fingers worked at the rough knot binding her wrists. The rope, wet with sweat and dew, finally gave way with a coarse skritch-scratch. Elena’s arms flopped to the splintered wood of the platform, the sudden rush of blood back into her hands a painful, prickling fire.
“There we go,” Roy grunted, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards. “Now, let’s see how fast our little forest whore can run.”
He didn’t let her stand. A heavy, calloused hand slammed down on the small of her back, shoving her forward. “On your hands and knees. That’s how an animal like you should travel.”
Elena gasped, the air knocking from her lungs. The crude command was paralyzing. But a sharper prod from Roy’s boot against her ass cheek sent a jolt of terrified obedience through her. She scrambled over the edge of the platform, her bare skin scraping down the rough-hewn ladder. Thump. Thump. She landed hard on the mossy ground below, the impact shuddering up her spine.
“Go on, then!” Jake yelled from above, his laughter sharp and cruel. “Give us a show! We’ll give you a ten-second head start.”
The humiliation was a hot brand. But the fear was colder, sharper. It pushed her forward. She dropped onto all fours, her palms pressing into the cool, damp earth, her knees sinking into the soft loam. She crawled. The movement was awkward, jarring. Every pull of her muscles sent a fresh ache through her sore, well-used holes. Roy’s cum was a cold, sticky trickle down the inside of her thigh. Marcus’s was a dried, tacky reminder on her skin. She was a canvas of their violations.
Break a branch. Leave a mark. They’ll find you. The sensible thought was a dim echo in a mind fogged with panic and a dark, throbbing arousal she hated herself for. Her naked body, flushed and sensitive, brushed against ferns and low-hanging branches. Each leaf felt like a caress, a tease against her over-stimulated nerves. Her cunt, though sore, pulsed with a hollow, empty ache. Her ass burned with the memory of being stretched and filled.
“Time’s up!” Roy’s voice bellowed from far too close behind her.
A fresh surge of adrenaline shot through her. She tried to move faster, her hands slapping against the ground, her knees dragging through the undergrowth. Slap. Thud. Slap. The sounds of her frantic escape were pathetic, humiliating.
She heard their boots then, two sets of heavy, deliberate footfalls crunching through the forest debris. They weren’t running. They were strolling. Taking their time. The predators who knew their prey was already caught.
“Look at that ass wobble,” Jake called out, his voice laced with a dark amusement. “Fucking hypnotic. I can still see my handprint on it.”
“Bet her cunt’s winking at us with every step,” Roy answered, his tone conversational, as if discussing the weather. “Begging for another fucking cock to stretch it out.”
Their vulgar commentary was a weapon, each word landing on her exposed skin like a lash. It fed the shame. It also, treacherously, fed the heat coiling deep in her belly. Her breathing hitched, becoming ragged gasps that were as much from a building, unwanted excitement as from exertion. The raw, animalistic nature of this—being hunted on all fours, completely exposed—was unlocking something inside her that Marcus had only just tapped into.
A strong hand closed around her ankle, yanking her to a sudden, violent stop. Yank! She cried out, her chin scraping against the ground.
“Gotcha,” Roy growled.
“There we go,” Roy grunted, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards. “Now, let’s see how fast our little forest whore can run.”
He didn’t let her stand. A heavy, calloused hand slammed down on the small of her back, shoving her forward. “On your hands and knees. That’s how an animal like you should travel.”
Elena gasped, the air knocking from her lungs. The crude command was paralyzing. But a sharper prod from Roy’s boot against her ass cheek sent a jolt of terrified obedience through her. She scrambled over the edge of the platform, her bare skin scraping down the rough-hewn ladder. Thump. Thump. She landed hard on the mossy ground below, the impact shuddering up her spine.
“Go on, then!” Jake yelled from above, his laughter sharp and cruel. “Give us a show! We’ll give you a ten-second head start.”
The humiliation was a hot brand. But the fear was colder, sharper. It pushed her forward. She dropped onto all fours, her palms pressing into the cool, damp earth, her knees sinking into the soft loam. She crawled. The movement was awkward, jarring. Every pull of her muscles sent a fresh ache through her sore, well-used holes. Roy’s cum was a cold, sticky trickle down the inside of her thigh. Marcus’s was a dried, tacky reminder on her skin. She was a canvas of their violations.
Break a branch. Leave a mark. They’ll find you. The sensible thought was a dim echo in a mind fogged with panic and a dark, throbbing arousal she hated herself for. Her naked body, flushed and sensitive, brushed against ferns and low-hanging branches. Each leaf felt like a caress, a tease against her over-stimulated nerves. Her cunt, though sore, pulsed with a hollow, empty ache. Her ass burned with the memory of being stretched and filled.
“Time’s up!” Roy’s voice bellowed from far too close behind her.
A fresh surge of adrenaline shot through her. She tried to move faster, her hands slapping against the ground, her knees dragging through the undergrowth. Slap. Thud. Slap. The sounds of her frantic escape were pathetic, humiliating.
She heard their boots then, two sets of heavy, deliberate footfalls crunching through the forest debris. They weren’t running. They were strolling. Taking their time. The predators who knew their prey was already caught.
“Look at that ass wobble,” Jake called out, his voice laced with a dark amusement. “Fucking hypnotic. I can still see my handprint on it.”
“Bet her cunt’s winking at us with every step,” Roy answered, his tone conversational, as if discussing the weather. “Begging for another fucking cock to stretch it out.”
Their vulgar commentary was a weapon, each word landing on her exposed skin like a lash. It fed the shame. It also, treacherously, fed the heat coiling deep in her belly. Her breathing hitched, becoming ragged gasps that were as much from a building, unwanted excitement as from exertion. The raw, animalistic nature of this—being hunted on all fours, completely exposed—was unlocking something inside her that Marcus had only just tapped into.
A strong hand closed around her ankle, yanking her to a sudden, violent stop. Yank! She cried out, her chin scraping against the ground.
“Gotcha,” Roy growled.
