Bruce trail - Part 4

There is a line of dialogue in the Russian film , The Stalker, directed by Andre’ Tarkovsky, which the main character - the Stalker- says, “The Zone wants to be respected. Otherwise it will punish. “

The Zone...yes, The Zone. And, I was right there in it.

Flicking my Gerber knife open, I cut the rope which bound her ankles to her wrists. After un-tying her ankles, I pulled her from the back seat. As soon as she felt solid ground, she charged at me, even though she still had the hood over her head.

I shoved her against the El Dorado.

My hands around her throat, I whispered “Don’t think I won’t hurt you. Don’t think I’m not capable of bad things. Don’t think about an out. Let that all go. Why? Because I’ve got you, baby. “

Her breathing was rapid and short. Mine was slow and steady. I kicked her ankles out, so that she stood now with her legs spread wide with her back up against the car.

The tension of my fingers pressed tight around her throat -slowly released. She began to relax her breathing. I could not tell what her expression was, because of the hood, but I knew she shifting inside her mind. She was waiting... wondering.

I laid one hand against her chest, feeling her heartbeat. I could sense fear inside her. And, I wanted a little more.

The edge of knife is probably one sensation that is not hard to recognize. Especially, if the edge is run up along the inside of the thigh.

Her heartbeat kicked up to triple time and stayed there even when the blade stopped just at the top her inner thigh and just below her black silk panties. I pressed the flat part of the blade against her skin. Then, I moved the steel slowly into position.

With two very quick flicks of my wrist, the blade had done it’s job - the black silk was in my pocket to be used later on.

The ankle rope,once used to bind, now was around her neck as a make shift leash.

I wrapped a few inches of it around my fist, pulling her towards me.

“Come.” I said, flatly.

The entrance - the trail head - to the Bruce Trail was marked with a worn, weathered sign. I lead her past the marker, through the brush and eventually into a clearing that revealed a path which was lined on either side with Maple trees.

I stopped short. She didn’t and ran into me. This startled her, which I wanted. The sunlight was fading and I had to quicken the pace to get there -the destination - before the available light began to seriously deteriorate.

I started forward. She resisted. The more force I used, the more she used her legs to counter. I could hear her gasping for air and a part of me wanted to release the tension. But I did not, knowing that this was what she wanted.

I jerked her down to her knees. She shuffled, still fighting against the rope. I could just make out that she was whimpering. I took her underneath her armpits and lifted her up on to her feet.

“Fight, cry....I don’t care. It won’t help. “ I said in a loud voice. I wanted her to know that she was no where. And, that there was no one who could possibly be around to save her.

About a hundred yards down, the path took a turn to the left. We went right and into the tree line. Each time a branch brushed up against her, she forced a scream out through the ball gag and hood.

Shortly, we were through the tree line. I’m certain she was totally confused as we walked up a slight incline, and then onto a mixture of gravel and small rock.

We both were a little out of breath, she more than I. I turned to survey the area for a moment, then made my move.

It took only a few seconds.

I took the hood off. She found herself kneeling low on the ground. The rope, still around her neck, was tied off-forcing her cheek against the flat, cold surface of a steel rail.

I watched her look to her left and then to her right. Real confusion set in when she realized that she was bound to the tracks of a remote railroad line that cut through the Bruce trail.

I stood over her, taking it all in. Her tightly bound arms and wrists behind her. Her gorgeous, exposed ass in the air. Legs quivering. High heels scuffed. And, of course, her neck tied to the rail.

I leaned down and removed the ball gag from her mouth. Saliva dropped down upon the railroad track, railroad ties and gravel.

“Please. Please. “ she whispered. I stood up and removed my belt from my jeans.

“One last thing before I fuck you.” I spoke out to the tracks itself.

I’m sure something heard her cry out the three times. I did hear birds flutter from the trees.

There were three red marks across her luscious ass. I saw them. I almost did not realize I had made them.

I was right on the edge.

Shoving he panties in her mouth, I secured the material with rope. I didn’t need to gag her. But, I had to.

Then....

I fucked her. I fucked her with such intensity, such will....such need. I drove deep into her. My hands grasping her ass so hard, I know I bruised her.

At first , she was only trying to keep on her knees. Then, I could feel her take me on. She was fucking me back.

I grabbed her hair so I could drive deeper and harder. This made her fuck me harder. Her thighs tightened against mine. Her strong inner muscles took my cock and clamped down. There was an incredible heat - a fire.

Then, she got it.

A different kind of scream rose out from the tracks. It was same as was heard from her a month ago. I wanted to cum so badly. But, I had just enough control not to. She had wanted me to save it for her thing.

Doing that required all the self control I had. Don’t ask what I thought of to achieve this incredible feat. Just know that I will never think of the poster of that stupid cat hanging from the limb of tree in the same manner.

That, and burlap.

to be continued....