Lonna

LONNA …Part Three

Having endured, and actually enjoyed most of the treatment of her initial submissive experience at the fetish club, she’s agreed to allow herself to continue to take a submissive role over a prearranged extended weekend with her husband dropping her off in the country, to be under the tutelage of an appointed stranger assigned by the author.

Chapter One

       Slowing, the car coming to a halt in front of the dirt drive, they glance at the address on the printed paper held in her hand, match the crooked numbers nailed to the aged three layered cross-tie gate a few feet in from the barbed wire fence line.  Well off the main highway on the mostly gravel road, seemingly the middle of nowhere, the scrub brush, weeds overgrowing an old unplanted field with its uneven tree line and thicker underbrush at the base of a hill less then a hundred feet away, she’s the first to see the apparent hiker stepping out from the foliage.

Seeming to fit in with the surroundings, the rural area as he trudges toward the gate, she notices he’s wearing dark sunglasses and a disheveled bandana wrapped around his forehead with a scruffy, several day’s growth of beard to go with his shaggy black hair.  Appearing to be thirty-something, a red and black plaid flannel shirt with sleeves ripped away reveals his muscular arms.  Kaki trousers, tan boots and an overnight back pack topped off with a rolled up blanket make up the rest of his clothing.  Momentarily taking her eyes from him, again glancing down toward the crinkling paper in her hand with the do’s and don’ts along with the address and general description of the man they’re to meet, it’s obvious the note must mean him.  An instant uneasy feeling as she notice’s him waving a hand back and forth while acting somewhat irritated, cautiously opening their doors, exiting out into the oppressive, almost stagnated air; they step around toward the trunk of the dusty sedan as he approaches.

       “I’ve been waiting… Hot as Hell out here today,” he nods, breaks the silence as he swats toward a couple hovering insects while placing a hand on the rusting metal wire holding the gate somewhat shut against the leaning fencepost.  “Hope to hell she’s worth it!”

       Glancing with curiosity toward one another as he shoves the rickety gate open, a crooked, weathered ‘NO TRESSPASSING’ sign hanging down by a bailing wire swaying back and forth as one end scrapes the ground, they remain silent per their rigid instructions on the note for neither one to speak in front him unless directed too, or she alone will be subjected to immediate punishment.  Watching the hiker as he reaches into, grabs a length of rope, then re-adjusts his pack on his shoulders, she apprehensively waits as he again glances back toward them, the dust swirling from the rutted dirt road leading onto the barren property, the clumps of browning grass wavering in the heated breeze.

       “Why the fuck ain’t she naked yet… Can’t you people read instructions?” his voice firm, a hint of a country drawl as he turns toward the husband, ignores her, his matting, bushy hair brushing across his sweat stained bandana as he raises a clenched hand.  “Tell her to get those fucking clothes off!... I’ve brought everything she’ll need right here in this backpack… Everything… Starting with this here rope!”

       Taken by his gruff sternness, not realizing she was supposed to be completely naked on arrival, not just without underwear, she senses a tensioning knot deep in the pit of her stomach as she again glances uneasily toward her husband, not sure if either of them should speak.  Getting a barely noticeable nod of his head, almost reluctantly obeying, slipping her hands up across her white summer blouse already damp with perspiration, fumbling, she hesitantly begins unfastening the top buttons.

       “Damn it!… Tell her I’ll rip those fucking clothes off her dumb ass if she don’t get them off quick… And I mean right fucking now!” he growls, “I want her bare ass naked before you leave her here with me!”

       Again a pleading glance toward her husband as she struggles not to verbally respond, clumsily tugging her blouse open, she nervously slips the clinging material down across her bowing shoulders.  Her bare breasts springing free, sway back and forth toward her sides as she nervously reaches down, unsnaps the button on her blue jean shorts while she awkwardly holds the ruffled blouse in her other hand.  Slipping her white tennis shoes off one foot at a time with the backs of her bare heels, her dark ponytail swaying, hanging down off her shoulder, she unzips, wiggles the shorts back and forth, down off her dampening hips, stepping out one leg at a time barefoot in the hot dust.

“Tell her to drop ‘em down there in the fucking dirt,” he adds, his dark sunglasses scanning her up and down, adding to his intimidating persona as he waits for her to obey, unabashedly ogling her shimmering nakedness until the clothes drop down beside her bare feet.

       Nude, already being pantyless and braless as instructed, she reflexively crosses her arms, covers the dark, wide areolas of her bare breasts as she feels the late afternoon sun beating down across her glistening shoulders, her clothes rumpled on the dusty ground.

       “Tell her… Hands behind her back and to turn away from me.”  Again his voice harsh, intense.  “And she can quit fucking acting shy or embarrassed too… Fuck… She wouldn’t be here if she was… You know she can’t wait to feel my hands all over her body… Use her like a whore… Just like in those stories of his you both like so much.”

       Taken aback by the hiker’s vulgar attitude, apprehensively following his directions without her husband needing to repeat them, turning and inquisitively nodding toward her husband still silently standing beside the car, a part of her hoping he’ll just go ahead and speak up, call the whole thing off, she feels a firm hand on her wrists gripping, drawing her hands back, close together with palms apart.  The harshness of the twine rope digging into her wrists, jerking, forcing her shoulders to arch back as her naked breasts separate, bounce with each tug, glancing at her fiancé she can’t help but barely mutter ‘fuck!’ under her breath as she can hear the hiker grunting while he ties the double, triple knots.

       “Take her clothes with you… She won’t be needing ‘em any more… Now get the fuck out of here.”  Again he speaks directly to the husband, ignoring her.  “And… By the way…  Get on that computer of yours when you get back home for a little present just for you… It’s an agenda so you can read what I’m doing with this cunt once we hit those woods… I guarantee you it’ll have you jacking off!... Anyway… It should be posted already… And for that matter… The next chapter will be posted tomorrow morning with the last chapter the next day.… Like a private little story for you to get off on while she’s gone.”

       Twisting her around by her roped wrists, another lewd glance at her bare breasts already glistening, beading with perspiration, he finally addresses her,  ‘’Okay Cunt… Follow me close or I’ll drag you along by those fucking tits you’ve been trying to tease me with!”  Again glancing toward the husband next to the car as he swings the broken gate back open, its bottom rail dragging in a rut, he nods for her to step through, scolds him, “What the fuck… What’cha waiting for?... I said pick up her damn clothes… Get back in that fucking car… And get your ass back down that road!... Don’t you people listen either?”

       Shutting the gate behind them, adjusting his backpack, the hiker steps in front of her, loops a length of rope across her neck before gripping a hand on each strap across his chest.  Turning with head down, he nods, mutters, “Stay up bitch… Keep those tits real close behind me or I’ll just tie ‘em up and drag you along by ‘em… Anyways… It’s fucking hot out here… I wanna’ get to that shade under those trees yonder so I can ram my cock in that pretty mouth of yours!”

       Clumsily picking up her clothes and shoes, steeping around his car to the driver’s door, the husband continues to watch in silence as the pair begins to retrace the steps through his flattened path of weeds across the field.  Catching a glimpse of her frightened widening eyes, the rope stretching from her neck with each uneven step, the expression of apprehension covers her face as she seems to be pleadingly staring back.  Getting back inside his car, the motor still idling, he feels the coolness of the circulating air as he drops it into drive, again glances toward the sun baked field before he begins to slowly pull forward to find a place to turn around.  Tossing her clothes on the passenger seat, watching the two beginning to make their way not so slowly toward the woods, the guy trudging along in front, his backpack shielding his upper body, she’s obviously struggling, almost a stumbling kind of jog behind the stretching rope, her bare feet scrapping across the crisp blades of burnt grass, the uneven ground of the long ago plowed field.

       Pulling forward, turning the car on a widening surface of the gravel road, backing, driving back out toward the gate, he slows the car as he can’t help himself from watching them already half way across the field, she still awkwardly following, her bare flesh surreally contrasting with the hiker’s clothing and the rural surroundings.  Heart pounding with anticipation as he stares out across the scrub brush, he wonders what she’s really facing once they hit the woods, or what the agenda’s going to be when he pulls it up on the web site.

Allowing the car to barely roll forward, he remains fixated on the sight of her naked body following the hiker across the old plowed ruts, ever closer to the trees, her head down in concentration as she struggles for balance.  Her dark ponytail spreading, brushing back and forth between her bare shoulder blades while her roped hands interlock into clenching fists barely shielding the crease of her butt cheeks, he can make out the rounded silhouettes of her globular breasts randomly swaying, bouncing outwards from her sides as her shoulders arch back, her elbows just inches from touching one another.  Watching the hiker stop and turn at the corner of the field, dropping the backpack off his shoulders while obviously glancing back toward the gate, he sees her barely hesitating at his side, appearing to give an obeying nod, then continuing past him a step or two only to turn and kneel down just outside the edge of the tree line.

Not able to ignore his own euphoric and yet narcissist feelings, the excitement of what’s already happened with her, the anticipation of what she’s about to be subjected too on the edge of those woods, he notices the hiker stepping in front of her, jerking the leader rope off from around her neck, begin wrapping it around her breasts.  Obviously keeping to his threat to her, twisting and jerking, looping the rope, even from across the field he can see her breasts bulging, her head twisting back and forth above her bound arms behind her as he finishes binding the ropes with his fists.

Watching the hiker resting one hand on her shoulder, undoing his trousers, forcing her face toward his crotch, he sees him staring back over across the field with what appears to be a somewhat angry wave with his other, obviously a motion to leave.  Dropping the shifter into drive, the dust swirling behind his car as he steps on the throttle, losing sight of the field, he drives away leaving her kneeling on the ground in front of him.  Not much imagination needed to realize what he’s doing with her now, much less for the next few days, the thoughts also of the computer at home, he can’t wait to find out what the agenda’s going to reveal.

The more then an hour drive home, heading directly to the computer, the e-mail does in fact have new updates.  Eagerly scrolling down, finding the right one, he quickly clicks to open it.  Scrolling, reading the familiar style of the author, and like advised, almost in a story like fashion, he’s struck by the immediately intense, harsh descriptions of the treatment of Lonna, his wife.  Reading it, realizing if the agenda’s being followed, she was immediately sodimized on the very edge of the woods even as he was still driving away.  Then, still bound, made to walk in front of the hiker into the overgrowth of the hills, to forge a path through the underbrush for him with her naked body, obviously including her unprotected and bound bare breasts.   He can vividly visualize her ordeal as he continues to read, especially with the arousing thoughts of his actual last sight of her being made to kneel naked on the edge of the woods still imprinted in his memory.

       Reading further, an obscure campsite described, roughly hewed tree branches tied together, the description of her being hung, strapped by her ankles upside down near the campfire for the evening, the vivid details of her constant torment’s arousing, incredible.  Sitting in front of the computer, imagining her pain, her humiliation and fear of being in those woods alone with that stranger while being repeatedly sexually abused, physically tortured as the storyline continues has him aroused, transfixed on the monitor as the lengthy, initial part of the storyline continues up to the next morning, and stops.

Chapter Two

       Just a couple hours away from the comfort and sanctuary of her own home, painfully swaying back and forth naked, the leather straps chaff at her ankles high above her while she slowly twists away from the flickering campfire.  Close enough to feel the spreading heat of the smoldering ambers spreading around its unkempt base; she feels the ends of her unraveling ponytail brushing across the dirt beneath her.  Teeth indenting a stripped piece of the gnawed birch, the ends tied with twine to behind her neck, her back bowing, her glistening breasts separate as the dark nipples hang down above her chin.

Shoulders throbbing, wrists still bound together with her arms arched back, she’s been alone for the better part of an hour, past dusk.  Insects buzzing, naked body bathed in sweat, she’s already been the recipient of more then a few itching welts from Chiggers, mosquitoes feasting on her glistening flesh. The contrasting heat of the fire on one side of her, the chilling dampness of the evening air on the other spreads across her naked body as she’s suspended, twists in her bindings.

       Her mind swirls with overwhelming thoughts of not knowing what the outcome of this prearranged excursion’s going to be, about what’s actually in store for her next, about being abandoned by her husband for the long weekend, about being subjected to the all too realistic brutal treatment by the hiker already.  All in all, the past few hours have been an endless blur of pain and sexual abuse with every orifice already penetrated, cummed in, her bare flesh crisscrossed with scrapes from almost countless briar patches and flexing branches.  Also being hung naked upside down in the hot sun for most of the day, all have left her exhausted, but somehow, a part of her way deep down, undeniably anticipates, even craves more humiliation, and more sexual abuse.

Hearing the footsteps crackling the underbrush, the darkened silhouette of his form approaching from the hillside, she watches as he kneels beside the fire, tosses on some broken branches, stirs the flickering flames with a piece of a stripped tree limb.  The ambers glowing, the sparks flittering upward with the mingling smoke, the smoldering heat of the fire again spreads across her bare flesh, her outthrust breasts as he toys with the branch, blows on the glowing charred end.

       “Time to trim back that little patch of cunt hair,” he speaks, still looking toward the end of the glowing branch.  “Not much there… But that’s okay…  This’ll burn ’em off without much pain if you’re lucky!”

           Eyes widening, staring unbelievingly at him standing, stepping toward her, she feels the pounding in her chest as she reflexively twists, tries to turn, press her thighs together.  Her thoughts instantly changing to stark terror, frantically wanting to go home, feeling a thigh gripped, her body rotated, she pleadingly grunts through the chunk of gnawed wood, vigorously shakes her head back and forth, absolutely not expecting such harsh, dangerous treatment.

       “You’ve gotta’ choice,” he growls, “Spread those fucking legs for me… Or I’ll ram the burning end of this damn stick down that cunt of yours and leave it till it goes out!”

       Terrified by his threat, her face brushing across his thigh, she coughs, spittle spewing across her cheeks and forehead as the trail of saliva drips from her trembling lips.  Her knees quivering, her stomach ripples as she forces her legs to jerkily part revealing her slit, less then a week’s worth of cropped pubic hair.  Nearly hysterical, yet unable to bring herself to close her eyes, even to glance away from the smoldering end of the smoking stick, she frantically watches as he lowers his hand, allows the burnt end to flick quickly but firmly across a nipple.

         “Oomph!”  Feeling the heated end of the branch brush across her bare flesh, the sparks of the burning amber flickering as her breast bounces, she grunts past the wooden gag pressed between her lips as she reflexively jerks, twists.

       “Hey!... I can shove this stick flat against a tit and hold it there a lot longer… if I want,” he threatens, “Yea… I guess you know by now this ain’t the fucking game you thought it was going to be… Is it cunt?”

“Uh huh!... Uh huh!!”  Head jerking back and forth, her body twisting a half circle, eyes wide, the momentary sensation of the flickering ashen covered stick scraping across her breast has her again terrified, the thought of being burned, of being scarred, absolutely unimaginable as she whines.  “Oomph!... Oomph!”

       “That was just a little scrap across that tit… Here now… Let’s be a little more serious with the other!... Same fucking deal… It goes in that cunt… Or stick that damn tit out here… Right now!”

       Feeling his free hand twisting her around by her thigh, glaring toward the smoldering stick being sadistically pressed upwards toward her thighs, arching her back, reflexively thrusting out her other breast, she feels the smoldering surface of the stick flatten her nipple as she’s held firm.

       “Aaaaggghhh!”  Gagging, slobbering as she again jerks her head back and forth, feeling the mounting heat spreading across her areola, smelling the acrid aroma of her own flesh searing, she can’t help from locking her gaze on the stick pressing into her tit flesh.  Feeling the stick being lifted back after just a brief, but seemingly endless split second, her flesh momentarily adhering to the ambers, she again grunts, bucks.  “Umph… Agghhhh!”

       Holding the stick upright, stepping back toward the fire, he pushes the smoldering tip deep into the burning ambers, stirs the flickering flames.  Glancing back at the sight of her body twisting, swaying, the hint of a wisp of smoke smoldering from her breast, he allows for the tip of the branch to flicker, to rekindle.  Another stir or two, lifting the branch from the fire, he inspects the freshly glowing end, steps toward her.

       “Now… A little tip so you better listen real good to me… The secret’s to keep your legs spread,” he offers, as he holds the branch a foot or so above her spread slit.  “If you struggle, let your legs jerk together, your thighs and pussy will probably adhere to the burning wood!... Understand?”

       “Ooooommmmpppphhhh!... Ooommmppphhh!”  Rocking back and forth, eyes welling, tears flowing, trying to plead with her pathetic animalistic grunts for him to stop, to let her go, seeing the flickering flame being held up between her glistening legs, she just knows this ain’t suppose to be happening.  “Uumph!”  Wrists twisting at the chaffing ropes, knees barely being bowed apart, raising her clammy body upwards, the heat already warms her quivering thighs as she glares toward the twitching, glowing branch in his outstretched hand.

       “Take a moment… Get ready,” he antagonizes her as he reaches out, lifts the heated end out past her glistening butt cheeks between her spreading thighs, lets the unburnt part of the branch press down between the shimmering, moist folds of her labium.  “Now… Hold fucking still!... Don’t move!”

       Craning her neck back, staring toward the ground as she inhales, holds her breath, she feels the harshness of the branch starting to slide between the puffy folds of her labium, the heat of the smoldering last few inches of burning wood dragging across the crease of her quivering buttocks.  Feeling it slowly scraped across her parting slit, the nub of her clit as her body uncontrollably trembles, then uncontrollably jerks, she bites into the gnawed wood between her teeth, squints, tightly closes her eyes as she feels the rough branch sliding forward, the scorching trail finally spreading across the narrow swath of her closely cropped pubic hair.

       “Umph!... Uummpphh!... Uuummmppphhh!” Legs quivering, stomach trembling, the pain’s all too real, just not as intense as she should expect.  Again the thoughts ripping through her mind of being burnt, scarred, maimed, she still struggles not to allow her legs to jerk, press together against the burning branch.  “Uuuummmmpppphhhh!” The pain centered from her rectum, tracing to her navel, she feels his hand releasing her thigh, the sense of him stepping back as she again slowly twists, rocks, waiting, anticipating the pain to mount.

       Eyes blinking open, watching him already next to the fire pit, dropping the better part of the branch in, her emotions are mixed.  Relieved the branch is being burned up, still aguishly anticipating the initial pain to escalate between her legs; she focuses on keeping her knees parted, not to allow what must be her blistered flesh to press together.  Slightly twisting, swaying in a small arc, she barely realizes he’s stepping away, making his way to the small tent on the other side of the dying fire, leaving her to hang by herself all night, naked, terrified.

Chapter Three     

       Well past midnight, reading the explicate agenda in some places three, four times, he sits in front of the computer screen with the unique realization he can visualize his wife being abused by the author’s descriptions playing out like an actual story, a play by play of what she’s being subjected too, his own private story as a reward for submitting her.  Knowing his wife’s psyche, realizing what she’s being subjected too, possibly at this very moment even, again just the thoughts, the visualizing of her being used and abused is almost as good as the sex he’ll have with her when she returns.

       A couple paragraphs, explicitly detailed situations seem to jump out at him.  Even the crude, backwoods ways of abusing her with rope and fire excites him although probably to most others, they’d just be repeats of countless other not very original, nor very imaginable storylines.  Scrolling back up the screen, finding his spot, he again reads about the hiker carving short branches, affixing them to her bare breasts, deep onto her areolas as she’s suspended by her ankles, tying the ends of the twigs until her nipples bulge, the exposed nubs swollen.  Continuing on, he reads of the same treatment being applied to her clit, clamped just as tight, just adding to the pain that the smoldering branch left, yet in reality actually no more then slightly singeing the flesh between her thighs.

       Imagining what’s going through her mind at this very moment, how vulnerable, frightened she is, he glances further down the screen as he reflexively reaches between his spreading thighs.  Finding the paragraph describing the hiker kneeling behind her, he continues to read as he begins to stroke his swollen shaft.  Fascinated, he again reads the part word for word where the hiker’s untying her mouth gag, dropping it to the ground, lifting her arms upwards until her hands brush across her buttocks, forcing her head to crane back by gripping her ponytail, then ramming his cock into her throat as he reaches around, grips the twigs clamping her nipples, twisting, tugging back, her breasts stretching around her sides as her naked body bows, twists from the creaking rope burrowing into her ankles as she’s deep-throated.

Visualizing that this sequence could be happening to her at this very moment, imagining the hiker rutting back and forth, his cock burrowing past her spread lips, his scrotum brushing across her nose, smacking across her eyes as her naked body contorts in his grasp, he feels the churning in the pit of his own stomach, strokes his swollen shaft, fantasizing he’s the one throttling her.

       On the verge of ejaculating, leaning back, he rests both hands across the keyboard, takes a deep breath.  Fingering the mouse, scrolling down a little further, he relaxes a couple minutes, collects himself.  The thoughts of their little games, the abuse she’s already succumbed too plays on his mind as he thinks how their games have evolved for her to be subjugated as a real sex slave for a number of days.  He wonders just how far this game’s going to go.  Then again, he can’t help thinking; it’s fucking exciting, especially with what she’s possibly in store for tomorrow… And the next!

Chapter Four

       Wet and cold, exhausted, the campfire all but out she feels the moisture dripping, crisscrossing, streaking down across her naked flesh as she blinks, tries to open her swollen eyes.  Confused, dazed, still swaying upside down, the chewed branch jammed between her lips, she slowly tilts her head forward, glances up toward the twigs clamped across her aching nipples, cold dew dripping from the tightly bound ends.  Glancing across the smoldering pit toward the small tent, she sees the first sign of light through the trees in the background as the sun’s rising.  The slightest movement of her arms like electric shocks, her ankles raw, her nipples and clit numb, she grunts though the gag as she tries to somehow block the aches and pains, to try to twist into some sort of position to relieve the torment.

       ‘Smack!’

       “Oomph!”  Grunting, spinning, the sensation of her butt cheek being smacked from behind, she feels her thigh gripped as she’s forced to hold still.

‘Splash!’

       “Aaaagggrrrhhh!!”  The sensation of icy water pouring between her thighs, splashing across her naked body, streaking down her quivering flesh overwhelms her as her body’s immediately drenched by the pitcher of cold creek water.  “Ooommmppphhh!”

       “Later this afternoon you’ll be begging for that,” he smirks as he kneels in front of her, unties the chewed gag, drops it in the quickly forming pool of mud beneath her head.  “But for now… I need to take a piss.”

Shirtless, muscular and tanned, his bare chest glistens as he stands back upright.  Just allowed a quick glimpse, even in her exhausted state and antagonizing position the thought flashes through her mind that he doesn’t appear to be the typical backwoods individual he presented himself as in the field. 

       Gripping the back of her head by her ponytail, forcing the crown of his semi-erect cock between her lips, arching forward, he cups a hand across her ear, begins relieving himself.  Glancing down, another smirk as the urine gurgles, gushes from her mouth, he quips, “You don’t need to swallow if you don’t want too… But if you don’t try… I’m just going to leave those nipples and that burnt clit of yours clamped until I have to piss again.”

       Glancing down, feeling her head try to twist away as she gags, gurgles, he continues to drain his cock, watches the urine pouring down off her face, mix with the mud beneath her head.  “Not this time huh?”  He again smirks as he pulls back, stands.

       Jerking, twisting, the acrid taste and smell of his urine covering her lips, bubbling from her upturned nostrils, gagging as she struggles to catch her breath, she feels herself rotating, rocking from the creaking rope swaying from the tree limb above her.  Wet, cold, nauseated, all mixed with the sickening sensation of hanging upside down for hours and hours; she feels her stomach knotting, churning, her abs rippling as her throat burns, unable to block the regurgitation gushing from deep inside.

       “Blllaaaaaaahhhh!….. Bllllaaaaaahhhh!”  Vomit spewing; splashing across the wet ground, again gagging, again her body contorting in the swaying rope, she again vomits.  “Blllaaahhhh!”

       ‘Splash!’

              “Aaaggghhh!”

       Another pitcher of cold water again gushing down across her naked flesh, she again gags, jerks and twists as the muddy puddle beneath her widens.  “Oomph!”

       Tossing the pitcher aside, noticing the Goosebumps crossing her bare flesh, he opens his backpack, retrieves a spool of twine.  Stepping back toward her, looping, tying an end between her nipple and its makeshift clamp, he stretches out a couple feet of the string, snips it off with his pocket knife.  Another loop of string for her other breast, the strand hangs down past her face as he quickly slips a tie knot to its center.  Stepping back, flipping the spool across a hanging branch well above his head, he catches it, begins tugging.

       Feeling herself twisting, her breasts stretching, she stares toward his backside as he continues to tug, stretch the string across the thick branch.  Arching forward face up, her weight dragging on her stretching breasts, each tug jerks her a little higher, her head lifting upwards from the ground.

       “Oomph!... Aggghhh!”… Aggghhhh!”  Each tug bringing another grunt, her body jerking, twisting as her head tilts back, her breasts throb, the nipples searing with pain as the burrowing wood clamps grip ever deeper into her stretching tit flesh.

       Stretched, stretched, yet another stretch of twine and he watches until her flexing fingers can just barely touch the dirt as she arches her arms back and downward, grapples for the ground with her bound, clutching hands.  Tying the string off to the base of the tree, he steps beside her, slides a hand back and forth across her wet bare stomach, her torso on the incline, her head hanging back.

       “Let’s let you dry off some… The sun’s coming up,” he drawls as he flicks her ponytail with his other hand, “It’s going to be another hot one.”  Glancing down toward her pubic mound, her slit, seeing the flesh just reddened a tinge, no real lasting marks since her cunt was so damp when he dragged the burning stick lightly across it the past night, he antagonizes her anyway, making her think its much worse then it actually is.  “Looks like there’ll going to be some real blistering going on down there,” he lies, “Probably going to hurt like hell when I fist fuck you later.”

       Giving a pat on her hollowing stomach, a flick of the twine stretching outward from her stretching breasts, he steps over to the fire pit, scuffs dirt across the remaining ambers with the heel of his boot.  Retrieving his shirt, slipping it on before his backpack, adjusting the pack across his shoulders, he glances back toward her arms bowed back, her hands grappling into the dirt beneath her as she struggles to keep the weight of her suspended body from stretching her breasts.  Slipping on his sunglasses, stepping past the tent, he scoffs, “Got business to attend too… I guess you’ll be hanging around waiten’ ‘till I get back… Then another couple days of fun.”

Entering the trail, glancing back toward her contorting body, figuring he’ll finally cut her down from her suspension when he gets back, wondering how much of the story her husband’s read, he’s satisfied with her scheduled torments so far, knowing that he’s got her for another couple full nights to follow the storyline, actually his story line that they so much wanted him, their favorite author, to conjure up for them.  After all, this tale could take in dozens of chapters before its conclusion.

End Part Three