Page 63 of Lost to the Woods

“Don’t make it harder on yourself, Princess,” he whispers as he grabs the flapping panel of fabric with his free hand and tugs hard. The zipper gives, the button pops off with a ping, and then my ruined shorts are tossed aside, leaving me in nothing but lace.

The knife presses between my legs, the tip teasing over the delicate lace of my panties. I feel the cool metal drag down my slit, so light it’s almost cruel—then nothing.

A sharp thunk makes me flinch. The blade sinks into the tree at an angle, the handle jutting out just between my trembling thighs, mere inches from my exposed pussy. Hisgloved fist tightens on the torn lace, ripping it further, together with my tights, until I’m completely bare.

Then, I feel the smooth leather of his glove against my skin. And God help me, it feels so good. His fingers part my lips with a slow, deliberate stroke, and I gasp.

“There we go,” he says, almost fondly, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Mmmm, there’s the truth. This is mine. You don’t get to say no to me…”

I sob harder.

His touch is maddening—spreading my slickness, tracing lazy circles around my swollen clit before dipping lower, slipping inside me with no warning.

A pathetic whimper escapes my lips, and I can’t do anything but feel him, his long, leather-clad fingers curling just right, stealing my breath.

“Feel that? The way your cunt clenches when I touch you?” he asks, but he’s not looking for an answer. “That’s not fear, little bunny. That’sneed.”

Go fuck yourself!I scream at him in my head.

But my body… Oh, my body is loving every goddamn second. I grind down on his hand like an animal in heat, chasing the forbidden sensations I shouldn’t even be feeling right now.

What did he do to me?

“Fuck yes,” he rasps. “That greedy little pussy is so sensitive, isn’t it? Always so wet for me… so easy to please… I’m the only one who can make you feel this way. Your body knows it’s Master.”

He pulls out suddenly, and before I can protest, his palm slaps against me—once, twice, three times—each strike landing directly on my clit, sending sharp bursts of pleasure-pain through me. My hips jerk, my thighs quiver, and I’m right there, teetering on the edge…

His hand is gone. “No, I didn’t say you could cum.”

He lifts his fingers to my lips, and my tongue flicks out to collect my juices before he even asks me to. My taste is laced with the leather of his gloves, and I can’t get enough.

“You’re going to have to work for it.”

Then his boot kicks my legs wider apart, and as my body shifts down, the smooth handle of the knife presses right against my entrance.

“Go ahead, show me how you ride it,” he commands.

I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut.

His grip tightens on my chin, fingers digging into my jaw hard enough to bruise. “Don’t defy me unless you want that knife in your ass instead.”

He’s serious. No doubt about it. And heterrifiesme.

I do what I need to do to survive—I obey.

Lowering myself onto the handle is slow torture as the thick, unforgiving polished wood stretches me, filling me in a way that shouldn’t feel this good. But it does. My hips move on their own, rocking against the tree, the bark rough against my already scraped back.

He steps back, picks up a camera, and records it all while his free hand flies to the zipper of his jeans.

I watch, mesmerized, as he pulls out his cock—hard, thick, pierced—and my movements turn frantic. My hands cup my breasts, fingers pinching my aching nipples between them, as choked moans escape my parted lips. I don’t know what it is, but I have never been more horny in my entire life. I feel ashamed, guilty, and entirely repulsed by myself, but even that doesn’t stop my hunger.

He strokes himself slowly, still filming my every move as the camera pans between my legs, lingering. “Mmmm, Bunny… look at you. So desperate, fucking yourself on a knife in the woods like the filthy little whore that you are.”

I moan, my hips bucking harder, the handle sliding in and out with slick, filthy sounds. God, I can feel it building inside me again, that tight coil of pleasure winding tighter, and tighter…

“Oh, you’re close?” he taunts in that low, condescending tone that drives me crazy. “You want to cum, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I whimper despite myself, hating that he has this power over me. Even now. Even after everything.

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