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Here are the next three chapters of my autobiographical fantasy, "Adirondack Hard." Much of it is based on my actual experiences. But as in any autobiography, real life is only the beginning. I can't say exactly what percentage of this story is the gospel truth; I can say I wish it all were.
This story is copyright 2004 by tough93013. It's posted for free to the readers of bdsmlibrary.com, and I thank the webmaster for providing such a wonderful opportunity. I'm glad I can serve the readers with this writing. Please do not repost this story on any other site without my explicit, written permission. And if you are under the age at which you can legally read this story, please do not read further. I entered the world of bdsm at a very early age (the first orgasm of my life was in bondage, as I am writing in the second installment of "My Perv"), but I cannot encourage young readers to do the same.
I greatly appreciate feedback and reviews from readers. I have more written and waiting but I would like to know what you think of the direction this story is going in.
Chapter 5: The Hike
At about 9AM on Saturday, September 10, we loaded our two canoes and headed out across the lake to the Mount Ampersand trailhead. Again I paddled in the stern with Reba in the bow of one canoe. Again I enjoyed the sight of her behind pressed against the forward thwart. We crossed the glassy lake in silence, overawed by the peaceful majesty of this vast wilderness that, it seemed, we had entirely to ourselves. I guess we felt a little smug putting off our camping trip until the weekend after Labor Day and thereby having about three million acres to ourselves. Right at that moment we were richer than Rockefeller, who had his few thousand measly acres a couple of hundred miles down the Hudson. Shortly before hitting the shore we noticed an elk or moose, I forget which, placidly drinking at the shoreline some distance away. He looked up, blinking lazily; we silently agreed to give each other plenty of distance. Then he went back to drinking and we beached our canoes.
Reba, though very game, was a little bit apprehensive about the hike of several miles with a gain of several thousand feet that we were about to take. I'd been on this hike a couple of times before with Jack and Sue, and enjoyed being Reba's guide and authority. The trail starts easily and in almost staggering beauty as it winds through the floor of a forest for several miles, climbing gently. After a while we got to the end of that section. Just before the trail veered up sharply we came to our old familiar stream, filled our hats with water and liberally doused ourselves and each other against the muggy heat. We took care to keep our boots dry but the rest got pretty wet. Then we hit the trail again, and from here on it went from steep to steeper; occasionally we literally had to pull ourselves up by roots and branches to the next level. This was extremely challenging, and we stopped frequently. At one point I was for turning back, but Sue wouldn't hear of it.
"Something wonderful awaits you at the top," she promised.
"What?"
"You'll see."
She winked and plowed on. Jack was already up ahead with Reba just behind. Sue was third and I brought up the rear. Up...up... and then clear sky above; we had reached the meadow that led gently up to the top a few hundred yards ahead. Actually, they had reached it before me, and were all sitting by the side of the trail catching their breath when I got to them. I was a little ashamed to be the last man up, but I was ready to plow on ahead, exhilarated that our goal was so close. I walked right past, pretending to be Mr. Macho, calling back "c'mon."
"Hold on a second, big guy," called Sue.
I stopped and turned to her. "What?"
"Well, it's time for your reward."
"Reward for what?"
"Reward for being you."
"You pervert," added Jack.
A buzz ran through me. I had the uneasy feeling that something awful was about to happen.
"Here's the deal," he continued, pulling out his enormous hunting knife and holding it out to me.
"Take this knife. Go into the woods over there and pick out a number of straight, thin, flexible branches. Cut out about a half dozen and bring them back."
"What for?"
"You'll see."
I didn't quite see yet, but I nodded. "Okay."
I took the knife and headed toward the stand of high, spindly trees.
"Oh," Sue called after me. "And come back naked!"
"What?" I spun back to them. "What are you talking about?"
"Naked. Buck naked. Stark naked," said Jack. "Leave your clothes in the woods. And I don't want to see any hardon, or you'll be sorry."
"Oh, shit," quoth I. The picture was becoming clearer. Again I started to flush, the red of embarrassment deepening the pink of exertion.
I wanted to talk my way out of this. It seemed especially important not to be humiliated in front of Reba, my longtime object of desire and new quasi-love partner. I looked at her face for any sign of concern, any glimmer that would suggest I should defy Jack's orders. All I saw was a fond, beatific smile. She seemed in complete agreement with the others.
"Suppose there are people up there?"
"Suppose your dick gets bitten off by a bear," said Jack.
Shaking my head, I turned back to the woods. I walked a few yards and delved into the trees. Looking around I quickly saw some promising saplings with soft, pliable branches. I sliced them down and stripped them of cross branches. I didn't want any rough nub to remain. When I was done, my heart pounding, I quickly pulled off my clothes and stuffed the pile of garments under some leaves. I grabbed my branches and the knife and worked my way out of the woods, more slowly, this time, because I was now barefoot. I emerged from the woods and Reba, Sue and Jack were nowhere to be seen. For a moment I panicked. Was this a cruel joke? Did they just want to see how gullible I was? I blocked that thought. I reasoned for a second. They wouldn't have turned back down the mountain without ever reaching the top. They must have gone up. Clutching my bundle of branches, I turned that way as well. With each step my excitement and apprehension rose.
In fact, that's not all that rose. As I swung my bundle of switches aside to pass a large boulder, the fresh wood grazed my penis and it began to erect. I thought "not a good idea," but my cock didn't obey.
Then as I neared the top, I heard a voice I didn't recognize--an older man's voice:
"Are you telling me we have to clear off the mountain so you can have your initiation?"
Then I heard Sue, clever quick Sue, responding calmly and rationally:
"No, not at all. You decide for yourself. I said the ceremony was secret, the meaning of it is secret. But it doesn't have to be private. You're taxpayers, you have every right to be up here. I'm just warning you about what's going to happen."
"And you said you got permission for all this?"
"Oh, Yes, it's on file down in Lake George."
"Well, I think this whole thing is sick!"
I was standing still by now, feeling certain that what they were talking about had something to do with me, bare-assed, hard-cocked me.
Then I heard another strange voice, a woman's: "Henry, just calm down. We can just go over to the other side if we don't want to see this."
Then a girl's voice: "I want to see it dad, it sounds neat!"
A boy's voice, same age: "Me too!"
Then the dad again, growling: "You're not seeing anything!"
Then another man's voice: "Well, we're certainly not staying for this. We'll see you down at the bottom. Come on, honey, let's go. Come on, Bob."
With that I heard the tromping of footsteps, and in a few seconds I was face-to-face with a forty-ish couple and a boy of about twelve.
"Get out of the way, you sick fuck!", the man growled.
The boy stopped and stared at me, looking hard at my hardon.
"Dad, what's wrong with his thing? It's sticking out."
The mother, an attractive redhead with freckles, pale skin and a deep blush looked me over sternly.
"We'll talk about that later, Bobby. Let's move on.
Then, looking back at me with what I hoped was a bit of motherly tenderness, she said to me, "Good luck with your ceremony. Your friends are waiting."
I nodded thanks, and as they passed I pushed on, redder than a beet, hoping I wouldn't have to confront the other family of strangers I knew was still up on top.
In a second, I walked onto the bald peak of Mount Ampersand. Before me I saw an ocean of green hills and forests that must have stretched all the way into Canada. If the Canadians had good eyes they could see my penis.
Then I looked to the right and saw Reba, Sue and Jack by the massive sign that dominated the peak. It's made of heavy wood and reads, "Mount Ampersand, Adirondack National Park, US Forestry Service."
The sign is held up by two massive steel I-beams, each about 8 feet high and six feet apart from one another. The sign dangles from a steel pipe which functions as a crossbeam. The pipe must be about three inches in diameter and can hold a lot of weight.
And one more thing I noticed: Attached to the top and bottom of each vertical beam was a heavy piece of rope, each rope several feet long. I knew what that rope was for, and my penis got harder.
Jack looked up from tying off the fourth length of rope. He looked me over and his eyes narrowed. "I thought I told you no hardon."
"I'm sorry, I stammered. I can't really..."
"I said you'll be sorry," Jack interrupted with a grin, "And you will."
I hung my head--I actually did, like a shamed schoolboy. And as I looked down I saw yet more stiffening. During my whole marriage with Nanette I never had erections like this, and that might have been one of the key issues; the guy she started having the affair with could stay hard for hours without coming. She had offered me this heart-warming information when she told me, "I love you--but I need his penis."
Now, stark naked and erect on a mountain top a world away from that relationship, confronted by three old friends who are just getting a humiliating glimpse the real me, moments away from being bound and beaten, maybe in the presence of strangers, I'm as hard as a rock--when I've been warned not to be hard or I'd be sorry.
I felt ashamed, humiliated, embarrassed, frightened--and thrilled.
"Put down the sticks and help me move that log," Jack said.
He was pointing to a sizeable tree trunk that was partially burned. It had obviously been lugged up here some time ago for a campfire or a beacon.
"What's that for--you're not planning to burn me alive, are you?" I was trying to inject a little levity into the situation.
"No, it's just for you to stand on."
"I can't stand on the ground?"
"Oh, we'll push it out from under you once you're tied."
"Gee--is that really necessary? That will really make the ropes tight."
Sue chimed in: "Teddy, that's the idea isn't it? This is your fantasy being fulfilled. You want it to be half-assed or the whole ball of wax."
I pondered for a moment, again looking at Reba for a sign.
she looked down--ambiguous. I felt a pang and looked away. I had to make the decision for myself.
"I want the whole ball of wax."
"Then let's go." said Jack--"we've got a lot to do today."
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