Off-Road Goddess

Copyright 2011 Christopher D.B.

Normally on a Friday night I’d be at a local sports bar with some friends or out prowling a singles bar with a modest chance of bringing some lady home just before closing time.  It was a real change from that routine to be in the basement of my apartment building sorting out various items of camping gear in my storage locker.  From my old Boy Scout mess kit to an ultra lightweight backpacking tent I had picked up during my college days, I had more than enough equipment for a simple overnight trip.

Shortly after moving into the apartment complex I became friends with Mike, one of my neighbors.  We were regulars at the workout room by the pool.  He owned a small four-wheel drive pickup that he said he took out on jeep trails a few times a year with some friends.  I had told him I’d like to go along some time.  My car was a holdover from college and I had thought about replacing it with a small SUV, mainly to deal with getting around in the snow, but it would be nice to see what kind of off-road adventures you could have during the warmer months.

It had been just an hour ago that Mike stopped by and invited me to go on an overnight four-wheeling trip with him and some friends.  Short notice, but I was up for it.

We left early the next morning and after an hours drive east of the city we pulled into a small gas station convenience store bait shop combo called Bass n’ Buck.  It was located at a desolate crossroads near a national forest that was our destination.  Mike’s friends were already here waiting on us, and he pulled up beside a red jeep that sat high on a modified suspension fitted with oversized tires, and was coated with a thick layer of dried mud.

I was quickly introduced to Dave and Sue, the owners of the red jeep, as they went about loading a big cooler with ice and beer by the open tailgate.  He was a monster of a guy but seemed friendly enough.  Sue had some extra pounds on her including a massive set of tits that were barely contained in her low cut top.  One of them mentioned that Julia was inside the store picking up some last minute supplies.

My eyes turned to the second jeep.  Bright yellow, a newer model with similar tires to Dave’s but no lift kit, and lacking his collection on dents and other body damage.  A slogan on the spare tire cover claimed that ‘Jeeps are for girls.’  Being single, I was interested in meeting this Julia, and soon enough she walked out of the store.

Dark wavy hair spilled down past her shoulders.  A pair of scant daisy dukes and a black tank top with narrow straps perfectly molded to her well proportioned and solid figure.  Wearing black rubber knee high boots as if she might also ride horseback, confidently strutting across the gravel lot in the low flat heels.  As she joined the group I could see that she was older than me by perhaps five years or more, though it was obvious that she was in good shape.  Her dark hair contrasted sharply with pale skin and her sly grin showed a faint trace of lipstick.

  “Who might you be?” she asked me in almost a challenging tone, her eyes giving me a quick onceover.

“Eric,” was all I could manage to say, my mouth suddenly dry and at a loss for words.

“Well, Eric.  Nice to have you along,” she said slowly, letting her words taper off.

The hope of any more conversation with Julia was broken off by Dave who wanted to discuss what trails we’d be hitting that day.  He evidently came out here all the time and seemed to know what certain areas would be like based on recent rainfall, and what camping areas were likely to be filled up later in the afternoon.

“You don’t have a set of play tires yet, Mike,” Julia said to my friend looking down at the wheels on his truck.  “Best of luck,” she told him in mocking disapproval.

As we drove to the trails I said to Mike,

“Man, that Julia is hot.”

“Dude, don’t even get started with her,” he said.  “She’s borderline psycho.”

When I tried to insist that he was joking, Mike stood his ground and just said it was best I not even consider pursuing her and then tried to change the subject.  I suspected that he was hot for her as well and didn’t want any competition from me.

The series of trails we followed were anything from good quality dirt roads to deep mud holes or steep rutted hills.  Julia was in the lead and would approach all the challenging parts with a sense of strategy, getting through or over anything with little trouble.  Dave would then attack with an open throttle, spraying mud with all four tires, at times seeming to dig himself into more trouble but always getting out, leaving a wallowed mess for us to get through.

I’ll give Mike credit for seeming to have some skill driving through all that mud, but whether it was his truck having no weight in the back end or not having the proper tires, he got stuck a lot.

In some ways that was no problem because Julia had a winch on her jeep that would mount on either the front or rear, and Dave had a big tangle of tow straps, chains, and anything else that was needed.  These people knew what they were doing and could get Mike out of a hole quickly enough.  His ego took the worst of it and Julia seemed to enjoy ribbing him any time she had to use her winch.

“You know Mike, I bought this winch because I knew I’d be on the trail with you,” she’d say as she pulled out the heavy cable, wading out into mud that came almost to the tops of her boots.  It seemed to me that Julia made an effort to make sure her back was to me any time she had to bend over to hitch up the cable, giving me an eyeful of her sexy ass framed by the tight denim shorts.

While Mike and I were clearly at a disadvantage bringing up the rear, I got the feeling that if Dave was in the lead he would take off with his foot to the floor and never be seen again unless wrapped around a tree.  If we went first I assumed Mike would get us stuck eventually, landing Julia in front of us to winch us through, therefore putting her in the lead.

With no real solution and Mike’s temper fuming, I decided not to offer any suggestions to our traveling order, even after we ended up stuck and tilted sideways, with murky water filling the foot well on the driver’s side. 

Late afternoon we ended up on a rugged fire service road that was easily passable with four-wheel drive and made our way back to the paved road to find a campsite for the night.

Our planned destination was a small primitive camping area with only a few sites and a pond within walking distance where Dave was hoping to do some night fishing.  The campground turned out to be full, so we made a rather long drive to another camping area.

The second location was more heavily wooded and easily had twice as many campsites, all spread apart for a lot of privacy.  A few RV’s were squeezed in here though there weren’t any utility connections, and there was a group of older guys tent camping and cleaning the days catch for a fish fry.  This left plenty of spots for us to choose from.

Our campsite had a gravel parking area just large enough for the three vehicles and a short trail led back to a large grassy clearing with a picnic table and a blackened iron fire ring.  We lugged in our gear and as we were setting up camp, Sue asked Julia where her boyfriend was.

“He broke up with me because he couldn’t handle being dominated,” Julia casually answered.  Sue and Dave just seemed to nod in understanding.  Now the idea of submitting to a beautiful dominatrix has always been a fantasy of mine so I had to ask,

“Dominated?  You mean as in whips and chains?”

Mike seemed to be having some trouble pitching his tent and paused to shoot me a warning stare.

“Yeah, something like that,” Julia answered, nonchalantly.

“Cool,” was my only response.

Although I had brought a can of beef stew to heat up over my backpacking stove, it seemed that Dave and Sue had brought enough food to share and set about preparing a communal feast.  They quickly got a fire burning and placed a cooking grate over the top.

I slipped out of my mud caked jeans into a clean pair, along with some fresh socks and shoes, glad I had thought to bring these.  The campground had no showers, pit toilets were the only facilities to speak of, but I grabbed some soap, a towel and washcloth, and set out to wash up best I could at one of the water faucets.

Just a short walk down the road and across from a small vacant campsite was an ornate stone pedestal with a drinking fountain on the top, and a faucet on the side above a shallow basin.  I had stripped off my shirt and was almost finished washing up when I heard footsteps crunching towards me on the gravel road.  Turning, I saw Julia approaching with an empty collapsible water jug in one hand.

“So you think that being dominated by a woman is… cool?” she asked with a grin.

“Well, it’s always been a fantasy of mine,” I confessed.

“Then be my bitch and fill this up,” she said, tossing the empty container at me.  I just smiled, catching it in the air.  Removing the cap I squatted by the faucet to fill the jug.  Julia walked up close beside me and rested one of her muddy boots on the stone rim of the basin.

“Tell me, Eric.  Have you only fantasized about being dominated, or have you actually lived it?  Tasted it?  Felt the pain?” she asked in a low seductive tone.

“I tried to get my ex-girlfriend to do this role play once.  Just dress up in her boots and leather skirt and give me a spanking, but she just laughed and said that was silly.”  While I tried to sound confident, my voice had wavered slightly.

“Is that why she’s now your ex-girlfriend?” Julia asked strategically as she bent to twirl a lock of my hair slowly around one finger.

“No,” I said.  The jug now full I shut off the faucet but stayed down at her feet.  Looking up at Julia, who was remarkably clean after a day of driving her jeep through the mud, I explained that my ex was in a hurry to get married and raise a family.  “I’ve only been out of college for a few years and want to get established in life.  That other stuff can wait.”

Though I was expecting a laugh or wisecrack, Julia just nodded slowly, continuing to twist a finger through my hair.  Then she picked up my damp washcloth from where I had hung it on the edge of the stone pedestal and let it drop.  In the quiet forest it landed with prominent splat on the toe of her muddy boot.

“I think its time you lived your fantasy, Eric,” she said with a voice that was a low whisper blended with a throaty growl.  “Now clean my boots.”

“Sure thing,” I said, letting out a deep breath and setting the heavy water container off to one side.  Giving me a light slap on the back of my head, she instructed,

   “The only responses I want to hear from you are, ‘Yes, Miss Julia,’ or ‘No, Miss Julia,’ and my most important rule is, do as I say.  Do you understand, Eric?”

“Yes, Miss Julia,” I replied quietly, turning on the water faucet to a moderate flow and picking up the washcloth.

A lot of times water at a remote camp is rusty or smells of sulfur, but here it ran clean, cool and fresh.  She placed one foot into the basin and I alternately splashed water on her boot with my hands and wiped with the wet cloth.  At first the mud only smeared on the black rubber but after a short while it began to rinse clean, the tan silt gently swirling down the bronze drain fitting.  Then she rocked her foot back on the low heel so I could wipe the smooth sole of her boot clean.

Julia handed me my towel and rested the heel of her boot on the rim of the basin.  There was no need for a verbal command so I shut off the water, our world now almost silent, and I toweled the boot dry.  Apparently satisfied with my work she turned around, leaning a hip against the stonework, and placed her other boot in the shallow basin.

“I’ll bet you thought that dominant women only wore boots that came up to here,” she placed the tip of a finger, the sensibly cut nail painted a deep shade of red, halfway up her thigh.  “With tall stiletto heels.  Am I right?”

“Yes, Miss Julia,” I answered.

She told me that she owned a pair of boots like that and maybe I would get to see her in them another time, but I had to prove to her that I could take care of these boots first.  The black rubber was scuffed in places and I assumed that her boots were a few years old.  They felt thick and high quality and showed no signs of cracking.  Julia would get plenty of more wear out of them.

Her legs looked smooth and freshly shaven.  As I turned off the water and began to dry her boot with my towel I could hear her breathing deeply against the background of birds and cicadas in the trees.  I looked at the crotch of her skin tight shorts, imagining that she was getting turned on and moist.

“Take the water back to the entrance to our camp,” she ordered.  “I’m not finished with you yet and if someone needs the water I don’t want us to be disturbed.  I’ll be waiting over there,” she said pointing to the vacant campsite across the road.  Julia also instructed me to get an item from the back of her jeep and so I knew that my boot cleaning duties were not over yet.

I’ve never cared for the collapsible five gallon water carriers.  Handy yes, but the thin handle bites into your flesh as you lug it.  Setting it on the short trail that led to our campsite, I could smell the smoke from the fire and the aroma of grilling burgers.  Bits of conversation floated over on the light breeze and all seemed well.

The interior of her jeep was relatively clean and uncluttered.  Of course the floorboard in front of the driver’s seat was covered with mud, most of which had sunk out of the way into the deep ribs of the rubber floor mat.  I took a quick glance at some CD cases in the console, thinking I might learn more about her by her taste in music.  It was an eclectic mix.  Kid Rock to Abba and Direks Bentley to Great White.

Moving the driver’s seat forward I climbed into the back where the rear jump seat had been replaced with a diamond plate metal tool box bolted to the floor.  I quickly found the spray bottle of rubber conditioner, normally used for tires, but apparently also useful for shining rubber boots.

Before closing the lid I quickly scanned over the rest of the contents.  Tow straps, heavy gauge jumper cables, a stout lug wrench, all neatly compartmentalized by homemade plywood dividers.  A small cardboard box suddenly caught my eye.  Forty caliber ammunition.  Julia owned a gun.  Perhaps she was a cop.  She certainly had the attitude for the job.

Feeling I had wasted time, I jogged back to where I knew Julia was waiting.  I seemed to have caught her by surprise and saw she was holding my shirt up to her face and deeply inhaling the day’s worth of my sweat.

She told me to kneel down by the bench of the picnic table and then sat on the table top, resting her boots on the bench in front of me.  I was ready with the spray bottle when she said,

“Before you spray that on I want you to make sure that my boots are perfectly clean.  Give them a good onceover with your tongue.”  I willingly obeyed, giving her boots long slow licks.  Of course they were clean, and I was getting extremely aroused.  I paused for a moment to adjust my jeans to give my stiffening cock some room.

“Don’t do that,” Julia snapped.  “I didn’t say you could touch yourself.  You’re just going to have to suffer.  You’re not done here,” she punctuated her words by raising a leg to place a boot under my nose.  I cradled it gently in my hands and continued to lick it and couldn’t help but imagine licking all the way to the top of her boot, but not stopping and working my way up her leg, pushing the denim barrier of her shorts to the side and pleasuring my off-road goddess.  Of course that was just a fantasy entwined within this fantasy session.

“You know what to do,” Julia she said, handing me my towel and the spray bottle.  I had only used the stuff on tires before.  The results always looked good until you drive in the rain which rinses it off.  It quickly brought her rubber boots to a high shine.

“I’ll bet you still want that spanking.  Don’t you, Eric?” she asked as I was doing the final buffing with the towel.

“Yes, Miss Julia,” I replied, thrilled that I would at last get the spanking I had fantasized about.

“Why do you deserve to be spanked?” she asked.  The question came as a surprise.  Not a simple yes or no answer, but I thought of something that she would at least find amusing.

“I masturbated at work last week, Miss Julia,” I confessed.

“Were you looking at internet porn on company time?” she asked accusingly.

“No, Miss Julia,” and I continued, feeling it was okay to elaborate.  “I was in the restroom.”

“Open your pants and pull out your cock,” was her surprising response.  I quickly complied, grateful to release my straining erection.  She gave a quick snort of laughter and turned up her nose.  “Obviously you don’t work in porno, having a cock that small, so I think it’s safe to say that your boss wouldn’t approve of you jerking off while you’re on the clock.  Wouldn’t you agree?”

I’ve always felt confident in the size of my manhood and never had any complaints from girlfriends or one night stands in the past.  I assumed that Julia was just trying to humiliate me, and I’ll admit I began to feel very self-conscious.  Maybe I really didn’t measure up to her standards.  I humbly answered her question,

“Yes, Miss Julia.”

She got down from the picnic table and stood in front of me, just inches from my face, firmly grasping a handful of my hair.

“A spanking would let you off too easy.  You need a whipping,” she insisted, reaching with her free hand to unbuckle her belt.  It was as wide as the belt loops on her cutoffs would accommodate.  Made of thick black leather with two rows of large chrome grommets around the whole length.  I had never been whipped with a belt before in my life but I knew it was going to hurt like hell.  While I suppose I could have run away easily enough, I wanted to be punished by her.  I felt completely under Julia’s control and obeyed when she told me to walk towards the rear of the campsite and slightly into the woods where we wouldn’t be visible in case anyone walked by on the road.

She had me stand facing a small tree, which at one time I could have identified by looking at the bark, and then ordered me to drop my jeans and boxer shorts to my ankles and hold onto an overhead limb.

I could hear her breathing slowly and heavily behind me, clearly excited and I assume aroused as well.  There was a split second of time when I heard her belt cut through the air before striking me across both cheeks of my buttocks.  I couldn’t help crying out at the snap of the pain.

“Shut up and take it like a man,” Julia said quietly.  “So many naughty boys fantasize about being whipped by a dominatrix but so few can handle the reality.”  I heard a soft tinkle of the belt buckle, the quick hiss of the leather slicing through the air, and then the crack of her belt against my ass as the pain instantly shot through my body.  Clenching my teeth, I drew in a hissing breath but otherwise didn’t make a sound.

“That’s more like it.  If you ever want to play with me again you need to be quiet and accept your punishment,” she said sternly.

The crack of the belt rang repeatedly through the air like gunfire and I wasn’t sure if it would be heard at a neighboring camp.  My hands clenched an increasingly tighter white-knuckle grip on the tree branch overhead.  With my legs hobbled by my pants at my ankles, any thought of running away at this point was hopeless.

Having read a lot online about sadomasochistic role play, I knew it was best to plan a scene in advance and have a safe word to call out in the event that any pain was too intense, but that was not the case here.  I had been seduced into a role of submission by a beautiful domineering woman who clearly enjoyed being in command.  I envisioned her belt with the metal grommets was on the verge of shredding my flesh and there was nothing I could do except grit my teeth as tears of pain started to leak from the corners of my tightly closed eyes.

“Turn around and get on your knees,” Julia commanded.  The whipping was apparently over much to my relief, but now there was heavy anxiety as I had no idea what she was going to do with me next.  She stood almost right in front of me, still holding the folded belt in one hand.

“I want to see you play with yourself.  Hold out your hand and I’ll be nice and give you some lubricant,” Julia commanded.  My cock was already swollen with a combination of fear and arousal.  After receiving the painful whipping I was grateful to have a chance of sexual relief, and I obediently held out my palm though not sure of what kind of lube she might have handy.

Stooping slightly, Julia let a large wad of saliva drop slowly form her mouth into my waiting hand.  I rubbed her warm slimy spit onto the head of my penis and lightly coated the rest of my shaft, then started stroking myself intently.

With my nose just inches from the crotch of her tight shorts I imagined that I could smell the muskiness of her arousal.  I knew that when I finally shot my load it would end up on her boots, the black rubber shining like patent leather below me.  Julia would probably order me to clean them by licking my own cum off her boots.  Not a very pleasant thought but I would do it for her anyway.

“I’ve seen enough,” she suddenly told me.  “Pull up your pants.  We’re finished here.”  Stopping in mid-stroke I looked up at her in astonishment.  “Hey, I told you to play with yourself.  I didn’t say I was going to let you cum, especially not all over my boots.  You haven’t earned that privilege yet.  Now pull up your pants before I whip your ass some more.”

Julia started to circle around behind be.  I would have begged for an orgasm but figured the smarter move was to just stand up and stuff my swollen cock into my jeans.  She gestured with her belt back towards the picnic table so I started walking that way.

As she thankfully put her belt back on, Julia ordered me to collect my towel and the other items and head back to camp.  She said she would be there in just a short while.

“Leave your shirt here,” Julia said giving one last order.  “It belongs to me now and I assume you brought another one.”

Returning to our camp I saw that someone had come for the water jug and lugged it back to the clearing.  The supper was almost ready.  Mike only briefly acknowledged that I had returned and was still struggling to get his tent set up.  It looked as if one of his poles had broken or was forgotten, so he had improvised with some tree branches and scraps of nylon rope.  His rig looked flimsy and I could have offered a few easy tips, but I decided not to.

He had tried to discourage me from getting together with Julia.  While my ass was sore and my balls were aching with denied relief, I had at last experienced my female domination fantasy.  Though it had been brief and spontaneous, it had been satisfying and I felt very calm and relaxed.

Julia returned to the campsite shortly before we sat down to eat.  Her cheeks had a slight glow and she walked with an easy relaxed gait.  I suspected she had walked back into the woods at the vacant campsite, unzipped her daisy dukes and slipped a hand inside her panties.  No doubt they were moist, and she would have lightly traced her fingers over her clit, stimulating herself to satisfaction.

She sat diagonally across the table from me when we ate.  Burgers, pork n’ beans, some macaroni salad, and cold beer.  A perfect camping meal, especially welcome since we had not eaten a lunch.

As night fell and we sat around the fire I noticed that she drank the least amount of beer compared to the rest of us.  Nursing her can for a long time and aloof to any of my attempts at conversation.  She was quite the enigma.  Articulate and well spoken, blended with a strong redneck flavor.  I wanted to know if she lived in the city and what type of work she did but I learned nothing about her that night.

Dave rambled on and on and while I did pick up a lot about what to look for in an SUV and tires, it was to the point of redundancy with his looping drunken monologs.  It must have been around midnight when it started to rain so we went to our tents.

After the initial shock of the cool nylon sleeping bag against my naked skin, I lay awake thinking about my session with Miss Julia and my cock started to get hard.  Reaching around in the darkness I found one of my socks on the floor of the tent, and I slipped it over my erection.  Gently stroking myself and reliving in my mind cleaning her boots and the painful whipping, I finally got the relief I wanted hours ago, emptying one burst after another into the sock.  Briefly I wondered if she might come to my tent later in the night, or perhaps I should visit her, but then I drifted off to sleep.

The rain continued off and on through the night but I slept soundly.  I had chosen my spot well, had a plastic ground cloth under the tent and a rain fly on the top.  As I learned the next morning, Mike’s improvised tent pole system had collapsed on him and at several times during the night he had to venture out in the rain to make repairs.

There had been plans for a communal breakfast but with a light drizzle still falling, we decided to break camp and go our separate ways.  Julia had packed her gear quickly and was the first to leave before I even had a chance to give her my phone number.

  On the way home, Mike and I stopped for some coffee to go at the first gas station we came to.  It was then that I asked him for Julia’s phone number.

“I don’t have it,” he said.  “She’s one of Sue’s friends.  They grew up together or something.”  So I asked him to get it from his buddy Dave.

“Listen, it was pretty obvious that you two were off doing something the other day,” he said.  “If she wants to get in touch with you I suppose she’ll contact me through Dave and Sue.  If that happens I’ll give her your number, cause if I don’t she’d probably kick my ass.  I just don’t want to hear you whining about her later on.  After all I did try to warn you that she’s crazy.”

Either she was crazy or Mike had no taste for anything kinky.  Weeks went by and whenever I saw Mike over at the gym I didn’t bother him with questions about Julia or ask about any more four-wheeling trips.  Sure, I was anxious to hook up with her again but I wasn’t going to be a pest about it.

Then one Saturday morning as I got out of the shower the phone started to ring.  When I answered it, a low familiar voice said,

“Hello, Eric.  It’s Miss Julia.”

A word from the author:  If you enjoyed this story, the next one in this series is titled, Paddled In the Boondocks.  You will find it here at bdsmlibrary.com.