Adirondack Hard

These are the next chapters in the ongoing story, "Adirondack Hard," which is part of a longer piece called "My Perv." This story is copyright 2004 by tough93013@yahoo.com . No portion of the story may be printed or reproduced electronically without express written consent of the author. This story contains adult themes and subject matter, and may not be read by minors or any persons living in areas where it is illegal to read such matter. The author feels teens (and adult persons living in repressive societies) would not be hurt by reading this or any other written work, but the law is the law. Though the author states that this story is based on actual events, and the characters based on real people, readers should consider "Adirondack Hard" and "My Perv" as works of fiction, the outpourings of a twisted imagination.

Dedicated to Crimson Dragon, Jym, Cyan and John Willie.

" Adirondack Hard "

Chapter 8: ""Descent to Paradise"

In mountain climbing, the way down is generally easier than the way up. In climbing down this mountain the process was made a little more difficult for me because I was naked (except for socks and boots), I was covered with welts, I had a rope tied around my penis and testicles that extended into a leash held by Reba, I was always half-hard at least, I was deeply embarrassed to be nude among my now fully-clothed companions and I was apprehensive about encountering strangers on the trail in this condition.

Jack led the way, as always. He was fast and aggressive on any trail. Today he was probably more so because of the aggressive process of my beating on the mountain top. Maybe he was also moving ahead to make sure we didn't encountered the strangers I feared. I think that, though he went along with this whole bondage-and-punishment scenario, he was, like me, embarrassed by it; maybe he couldn't help but imagine himself in my predicament, and he didn't like what he imagined. Understandable, after all, since this was my fantasy being fulfilled, not his.

Behind Jack and ahead of me was Reba, in her skimpy top, short, tight denim shorts, socks and hiking boots. Reba was a dark, honey-skinned beauty with strong, tanned legs. The movements of her ample behind were a joy to watch. She continually looked back to check on me, which was reasonable because she was holding my life at the end of a 6-foot leash. Reba was always sweet and warm and solicitous. "You doing okay?" she'd ask. And I'd usually turn red and say "I'm doing great." The turning red part seemed to be because Reba was not shy about looking me over from head to toe, and because every time her sparkling eyes shined on me I got hard and my penis saluted her--I was very turned on to her and did not want to turn her off by seeming too perverse.

Behind me was Sue, by far the most adventurous and intellectually restless of us all. Sue was always the first to try any new drink or drug (beer and acid was one of her favorite combinations), and was unafraid to bawl out a college president, a mayor or even a congressperson. As a teenager she had been sprayed by police firehoses in Alabama on civil rights marches; I had only gotten as far as Washington, DC. In college her dual major was political science and philosophy, and when she got worked up her professors dove for cover. She also sang beautifully and fucked liberally--until she met Jack and began to settle down. Unfortunately, the settling-down phase was not to last very long. Now Sue was hiking behind me, carrying one of the switches down from the mountain top, and periodically she would tap me with it across the butt, saying "move on, move on." I would skitter forward, half-offended, half-aroused by her constant prodding.

Walking was at first quite difficult. My legs were weak from my extended bondage and my skin was raw. Movement made it hurt more. Sweat was an irritant in my wounds, and this afternoon the mountains were hot and muggy--I was covered by a sheen of sweat. For this part of the descent my hands were free, because there was no practical way to climb down the steepest sections of the trail without the use of hands. However, my hands were still a bit numb from my tight semi-suspended bondage on the mountain top, and were somewhat useless; so I had to take my time, and occasionally I was handed down by Sue above to Reba below me, Reba looking up at my balls and cock and she helped me down. Then, typically, Reba would smile sweetly at me and reach for my penis, stroking it back to hardness, cooing "keep it up, little baby--you're going to be just fine." I think the words "little baby" alone would have gotten me hard, but I wasn't about to protest against the stroking.

Eventually the truly-vertical part of the descent was completed. Ahead was a gentler downward path that was mostly free of loose rock and was cushioned with leaves and pine needles. Also at the bottom of the steepest part was the stream we had stopped at on the way up. We took a breather at the stream and drank deeply. Sue suggested I might be more comfortable if I washed a little. I agreed; my body was sticky and stiff. I tried to remove my boots and socks so I could step into a small pool, but I couldn't make my fingers close about the laces--my hands were still numb from my bondage. "You're really helpless, aren't you," said Reba. "It's kind of sweet."

"I am helpless. Thank God I've got the two of you."

"Well, we'll get you undressed," said Sue.

Carefully, I sat on a rock by the side of the tiny pool, favoring my flogged buttocks. The two girls knelt before me, each removing a boot and sock.

"Could you take off the rope?" I asked, looking down at the cord wrapped around my penis and balls.

"Oh, I don't think so, not yet," said Sue.

I sighed and looked to Reba. She smiled sweetly and shrugged. I nodded, accepting my fate.

Then the girls helped me up and steadied me as I stepped into the pool.

"We'll take a nice swim when we get down to the lake, but this should make you feel more comfortable until then," said Sue.

Reba and Sue scooped out cupped handfuls of chilly water and opened them over my body. At first I flinched from the cold, and then relaxed, grateful that my soreness was being eased.

Finally, I said "this is just wonderful. I feel so much better. But I think I'll need to have you help me on with my boots again. And my shorts."

Reba laughed, a melodic alto laugh.

"I don't think you'll need boots or shorts. I think you can go completely naked from this point on. It's such a pretty trail."

I protested, but Sue was with Reba on this point, and, frankly, I couldn't have dressed myself if I had wanted to. Blushing, I agreed to do as they directed. I've always liked being directed by women.

The girls helped me out of the little woodland pool. I stepped onto the trail and started to walk.

"Hold on, a second, big guy. We've got a little work to do."

I looked at her quizzically."

"We've got to tie you up."

"Is that absolutely necessary?"

"Yes, it is--absolutely."

"But what about my circulation in my wrists? I don't want to be damaged!"

"We'll go easy on you," said Reba. "Sue's right, though, we really need to have you tied. Your helplessness is fun!"

I could tell she meant it and my penis flexed its muscle.

"Turn your back," Reba commanded gently.

Obediently, passively, resignedly, I turned away from Reba, automatically crossing my wrists. Reba and Sue discussed the mechanics of the bondage to come. Neither was the rope expert Jack was, but Jack was far down the trail, nowhere to be seen. The girls did agree that the six feet of rope dangling from my penis and balls provided the perfect opportunity. The pulled the rope between my legs and wound it around my wrists. Reba still had a little bit of trouble tying me inescapably, but with coaching from Sue and good old trial-and-error, they soon had me fastened; not tightly enough to compromise my circulation, but definitely tightly enough to prevent my escape, especially with my hands still semi-paralyzed. The rope was taut but not too tight between my legs. I experimented with my bound wrists and found that if I pulled them back and up the tension on my penis and balls created a feeling both of mild discomfort and more than mild pleasure. The girls noticed my experimental movements.

"There is no way you're gonna make yourself come! Don't even think about it!" Sue commanded.

I blushed and relaxed my arms, reducing the pressure from the ropes.

Reba said "Okay, naughty boy. I've got a great idea."

Then to Sue: "Let's leave him here and walk on ahead. He'll have to make it back to the canoes from here on his own."

"No, I don't think that's such a good idea, " I protested. "What if something happened? What if someone came along?"

"Teddy, you're such a 'what-iffer'--you always have been," said Sue. Then to Reba: "C'mon, Reebs, let's go."

Reba looked me in the face and said gently--but firmly--"Teddy, I want you to stand here and count to 500, slowly, before you start down the trail. No cheating, or we'll punish you!"

"Ooh," I said, joking. "There's not a square inch of me left to punish!"

"Then we'll punish you on the punishment, so you better do as I say. 500--remember!"

I nodded. Then Reba gave me a sweet, chaste kiss on the cheek, reached for my penis, and chastely began to pump me hard. "And you better not come!" "I won't", I gasped. Reba released my hard penis and, to my surprise, Sue took it into her grasp. She squeezed and released rhythmically.

"You do have a very nice dick," she cooed.

And Reba and Sue took off down the trail as I struggled to hold back orgasm. Counting helped me get my mind off the guy down there between my legs with a mind of his own.

For the first few steps away from me Reba was actually skipping. Before I got to 20 they were out of sight. By the time I hit 50 they were out of earshot as well. And when I finally reached a slow count of 500, I knew I was alone in the woods, stark naked, helplessly bound, penis and balls tied in front, my wrists bound in back. I felt little crazy, more than a little turned on, still a lot sore, and I moved forward down the trail. I was cautious because, of course, I could not protect myself if I were to lose my balance. I would fall on my wounded and welted body, and that would be painful and ugly.

I eased my way down the trail, constantly looking forward in anticipation of another climbing party consisting of middle-aged parents and an adolescent daughter or son. My face blushed hot in fearful anticipation. Each time I would turn a bend I would expect the worst--and the worst never came. Instead, even in my bondage and soreness, I began to appreciate the beauty of this extraordinary environment, free of any of the crap of civilization. In fact, the only element of civilization anywhere to be seen was the mass-manufactured clothesline rope binding my balls and wrists. I began to feel high-spirited and confident, in spite of my bound humiliation. I was now looking at nature rather than looking for unwanted intruders into my space. I felt, amazingly, free--and carefree.

And then I was jumped.

I had no warning, and of course no defense. Some dark cloth was pulled over my head. Arms were around my chest. A knee was pressed into the back of my knees and I was down, kneeling helpless. I was shocked. I started to scream, a deep, primal, fearful bellow. My assailants said nothing, not a word. Then a piece of cloth was shoved into my mouth and another cloth was wound around my face, holding the first balled cloth in. I was now blindfolded and gagged as well as wrist and ball tied and naked. Roughly, they pulled me to my feet and hustled me along the path. I emitted a muffled "mmmmmph!", but could articulate nothing more. I was totally helpless, totally ineffectual and totally terrified. We moved on, my hunting party and me, their captive game. More than once I stumbled, and each time they swatted me roughly across the ass with a stick, or hard across my penis, tied into erection by the constricting ropes. I did my best to cooperate and concentrate on my breathing. There was obviously nothing else I could do.

Eventually the party came to a halt. I heard the sound of water. Then I was walked into the water. Two or three people lifted me and put me into a canoe, laying me flat in the bottom. Then they lashed my ankles together. Someone else pushed the canoe away from shore and climbed on. He started paddling. I wondered if I would ever see my friends again. I felt hopeless.

Then I realized that, of course, this was my little family, Jack and Sue and Reba, playing an enormous joke on me. I was at first furious, then relieved. I chuckled (to myself, of course, being gagged.) I would play it cool, not give them the satisfaction of my panic or resistance. I relaxed in the bottom of the canoe as it sped across the water.

And then I realized I had no reason to feel safe and smug. This could be a real kidnapping or worse. Maybe the people we encountered on the mountain had told others down below of our bizarre doings. Maybe a bunch of self-righteous, hormone- and cheap wine-amped teen-agers had decided to take the law into their own hands. Maybe they were going to punish me or rape me or just turn me over, naked, to the police. The crime photographer would be there on the other side by the squad car. He would document forever my crime and humiliation. I started to feel panic rising again and I began to squirm. I was now rocking the canoe--and I realized if I tipped it over I could drown! I lay still, my heart pounding in my chest.

And then the canoe scraped against the shore. The paddler climbed out. I could hear him removing gear and tossing it onto the beach of the lake. I heard another canoe hit shore. And then, suddenly, my canoe was flipped and I was under water!

But only for a split second. Then I was up, and a man was laughing. Jack was laughing. Then Reba was saying "God, Jack, that's enough!" She was pulling the blindfold off my head and kissing me on the eyes and cheek. Then she reached for my gag, but before she could remove it, Jack said "Wait--he looks really pissed. I don't want to hear him yelling at me. Leave it in until he cools down!"

So Reba stopped attempting to untie my gag. She sat with me on the beach, once again cradling my head in her lap. I looked up at her big, beautiful dark eyes, and her erect, puffy nipples. That's right, her shirt was off. In fact, her shirt had been over my head for the past half hour. The sight of Reba's nipples aroused me and calmed me. As she had done so many times this weekend, Reba reached down, took hold of my penis and began to pump.

And a few minutes later my gag was off. I protested Jack's cruel joke, but the edge was gone from my anger. I was relieved to be back at the campsite among my friends whose little prank had slightly backfired but was, indeed, very convincing. I was embarrassed as Reba openly aroused me and then stopped, pumped and stopped, as Sue and Jack looked on, sharing a beer and a joint. Finally, Reba said "let's get this rope off his balls," and she and Sue worked to untie that particular part of my anatomy.

Relief! I hadn't been aware of the ache those tight ropes caused at my groin, but now that the ache was gone I had a sudden sense of how extreme it had been. I was naked and sore. I was the only completely naked one; my friends were dressed, Reba topless. But that changed quickly, as Jack, Sue and Reba stripped. Then, helping me up, we all entered the cool, still lake. We swam and sat in that water for a half hour. Rather they swam. I was still tied, and I never even raised the question of my freedom. I resigned myself to their control. A bar of soap was produced and Reba stood me up in shallow water and washed me down thoroughly--totally thoroughly, head to toe. And once again, her soapy finger found its way into my asshole, and I liked the intimacy of her touch, I liked being violated by this dear girl. I wondered whether this was what a virgin bride felt on her wedding night, though technically I was no longer a virgin, since Reba's finger had penetrated my asshole earlier in the afternoon up on top of the mountain. Now she was fingering my asshole and pumping my penis simultaneously and cooing "don't you come, little baby! Don't you come." And a moment later I had to beg her to stop.