[DRYH] Hike (22)

edited August 2014 in DRYH
Dear Reader, this thread has graphic depictions of sexual acts between two young people. You've been warned.

Eileen slept in a little. It was cold out. Did you "sleep" by the fire or did she make it up to the big bed with you?

Morning was quiet for Eileen. She took a shower, bringing all the bloody stuff with her to throw into a trash bag, not exactly embarrassed, but definitely taking care of it. She didn't invite you to the shower. Did you join her?

Breakfast consisted of some Oatmeal, Quaker Oats stuff that was brought here a few trips ago. With the water heater on the coffee pot, you get some steamy strawberry oatmeal. It's not bad. Eileen seems to love the stuff, she had two bowls.

She suggested taking you up on the hike, I assume you didn't object. She throws on a windbreaker, laces up her running shoes and heads out in her tracksuit. What are you wearing?

"Benny," she says as you're heading for the trail, "Are you gonna be okay, baby? You look tired as hell... is there any way you could, you know, sleep?"


  • It seemed like too much work to keep the fire built up, so we made our way to the big comfy bed in the loft and snuggled under about three comforters. I stayed with her until she fell asleep and a while after, then moved to the wing chair in the corner and turned on the reading lamp.

    With my reading copy of Flicker retrieved from my bag, I sit and flip through, revisiting favorite moments. There are highlights and underlines, of course (“The art of cinema begins with scraping the chewing gum off the seats.”), but I give my full attention to the final scene, where the protagonist and the mysterious cult director he spent so much of his life idolizing are stranded on an island with a dump of discarded old film. As they wait for the world to end, they use scraps and bits from the dump to splice together one last film.

    [OOC: Spending my one lonely Coin of Hope to reduce Exhaustion to 5]

    Eventually, I fall back on a new favorite pastime - watching Eileen sleep. There may be some envy involved in that, but it's mostly just wistfulness and affection.

    I've already showered when Eileen wakes up, went down early so the hot water heater would be full when she got to it. Breakfast is quiet, and I want to ask Eileen how she feels about last night, but decide she'll tell me in her own time if she feels uncomfortable about it in the light of day.

    I'm actually excited for the hike. It's a crisp, bright day and the fresh air will certainly be a good tonic for the lingering dank currents of the Mad City in my mind. I'll put on jeans and a pair of hiking boots, one of those flannel shirts I brought so I could be eye candy for my girl, grab a windbreaker of my own.

    When she asks about sleep, I think for a sec. I want to keep telling the truth. "I'm okay for now. A little better. The... well, the Wax King implied that he could protect me while I sleep, but I'd have to be there. I don't want to leave you, Eileen, and I have no idea what the situation is in the Mad City, after what was going on when I left. I just... don't know."
  • She stops walking, spins around on you, "What? Are you seriously telling me that it's my fault that you're about to fall down here and maybe die?" Her tone gets a little angry, "Think real damn hard about your answer, Marks."
  • "The hell, Eileen? Did I say that? How did you get your fault out of what I just said? There's no guarantee that I can get help over there, no guarantee that it's not complete anarchy, which certainly would be at least partially my fault. What would you do?" I'm speaking louder than I want to, not angry yet but defensive. I really just wanted to enjoy the sun and the air and the scent of pine trees.
  • Eileen takes on this "mopey guy" voice, mocking you, "I don't want to leeeeave you, Eileen." She puts a hand on her hip, arches a brow.
  • I'm this close to snapping at Eileen. I stop, I draw the breath to say something I will regret, then it occurs to me just before the words come out that she's right. I deflate. I don't know if I can say the Wax King owes me, but I've certainly advanced his agenda, knee-bending or no. He made the offer before, I'll assume it still stands if he's still standing.

    "Shit, Eileen. I'm sorry. You're right. I'm being so damned emo. Listen, the Wax King said he could help, and I want to trust him. I've done him solid, and if the whole Mad City isn't in even more chaos than usual, he'll come through. I know he has his own agenda, but it seems like part of that is respecting his allies." Man, I'm talking a lot, just spitting out words. "Anyway, let's have today, and I'll try to get to the Wax King tonight?"
  • You explain to Eileen your plan and she listens. No interruptions, she removes the hand from her hip, her brow returns to its normal position above her pretty brown eye.

    "Alright," Eileen agrees. "We have today."

    A smile spreads on her face, then she reaches out to quickly slap your arm. "You're it!" Then she turns and dashes down the trail, heading into the woods as fast she can go.
  • "Ah hell naw!" I take off after Eileen. I could catch her, easy, if I wanted to use my "special" talents, but I just plain don't want to do that, and I'm fine with catching her when she wants to be caught.

    I jog along behind, matching her pace as well as I can, keeping close enough to see where she's going, but not pushing my tired body any further than I need to. She's gonna give me shit for "letting" her win, but whatever.
  • After seeing you do a convincing impression of The Flash the last time she saw you run, it's pretty obvious she's setting a good pace for a longer jog, not some crazed sprint. You jog along behind her, which is a nice view, of course.

    After a few hundred yards down the trail, she cuts right, on a smaller trail, more grown over. She slows to a quick walk, reaching out to push a few stray branches back. "Come on, Benny. Walk with me." She motions for you to join her, but the trail's too narrow to walk side-by-side.

    "Benny, let's head over to Lookout Peak." Eileen says. It's a joke name, since it's far from the highest point up here. When you were kids, both you and your respective siblings found the place, which is near the end of this little trail. It's a place where the mountain drops off. A decent climbing spot, if you're into it. The view is mostly the lake, but the angle is spectacular.
  • I follow, of course. "Lookout Peak ahoy, Cap'n." Walking behind Eileen, the view is spectacular already.

    So, I've just committed to this. Heading back to the Mad City on purpose, hoping that there's a solution. I can't help but wonder what the cost will be. There's always a cost.
  • She leads you through the bits of bramble and around trees until you see it thin out. Then you're there, at Lookout Peak, and she heads for the kickass log and takes a seat, looking out across the lake. You can see the small parking lot where you were only days ago. She pats the log beside her.

    "Benny," Eileen says when you sit beside her. "This is going to be an awesome day." She is trying a light tone, but there's an unmistakable worry underneath.
  • edited July 2014
    I'm trying not to act like a condemned prisoner with his last meal. "Yes, it will be." It occurs to me that I should ask now. "So, last night, the audience? Was it what you thought it would be?" Dammit. I wish I hadn't asked. Face forward.

  • Oh, that lights a spark. Eileen's face lights up and she nods, "Uh huh." She swallows a laugh, puts a hand on your knee while turning to you, "I could never, you know, be in front of a real crowd. But the pretend one you made? Holy shit. I thought I was gonna pass out at the end!" She glances at your shoulder, "Did I, you know, leave any marks on your back or anything?"

    She asks quietly, suddenly a little self conscious. "Can we do it again?" Then, she adds, "In the cabin."
  • Yeah, she did. "Hey, I wear them as a badge of honor. The marks." I think about what she's asking. "Since you've already spanked me for 'risking' myself, then, no, we can't do that again. Every time I do anything like that comes with a price, a risk, and we've got a day ahead of us." I look out across the lake, to the parking lot. "What about right here, right now, though? If those folks in the Winnebago are looking for eagles, they'll probably scan this spot with their binocs... they'll never be able to tell who we are." This really isn't just me being horny. I want to feed Eileen's wants, but hope I won't need to take any risks until I head back to the Mad City later.
  • Eileen nods curtly, her eyes showing that she feels ashamed that she hurt you, or made you weak. But she doesn't apologize, knowing it'd make you upset. And she really did enjoy it.

    You tempt her with sex in the open and she glances down, seeing the people in the Winnebago. She's quiet for a few moments. You can practically hear the gears turning in her head.

    Around you, the late morning is warming up a bit. There's a bit of a wind here at Lookout Point, but nothing terrible. "Fine. But when we get back to the cabin, you have to make me a sandwich." She grins, laughing at her sexist joke.
  • "Oh, I'll make you a sammich, alright. How does a tongue sammich sound?" I'm pretty sure neither of us has actually had a tongue sandwich, but I remember that from some book as an actual food thing. Anyway, it seems like a good double-entendre.

    Regardless, I lean in for a kiss, big and dramatic. I make sure that Eileen 'sees' a flash of reflected light from the vicinity of the Winnebago, like sun off the lenses of binoculars. I see the light in her eyes and play into it. Forget porn, I'm acting my ass off for the non-existent cameras, despite the fact that I'm totally into this myself.

    I do everything I know, or can imagine, to make Eileen enjoy this moment. Mouth, fingers, the whole shebang. When we finish, I ensure that the binocular flash happens again for her.

  • edited August 2014
    It takes a few minutes for Eileen to get into it. When she does surrender to your fingers and tongue, she starts getting into it. Most of her attention is on you, looking down at you as she sits on the log. But occasionally, she's looking down there, at whoever might be looking up. They're barely distinguishable as people, but it's enough. You pulled her track pants down to her ankles, worked her underwear aside.

    At one point, after you're rather sure she had her first little climax, she pulled off her top. She pulled her legs wider open for you and started a rhythmic panting, which of course is music to your ears. After bringing her to a second, bigger one, she melts into a puddle on the log, laying on her side and begging you to stop, saying she's too sensitive, she needs a minute to rest.

    That's when she sees the binocular flash. And instead of covering up, she just coos and laughs a tired little laugh.
  • edited August 2014
    I stop when she asks, of course. That coo and tired laugh fills me up like wine in a cup. I just sit there, stroking her forehead, the other hand on her hip, storing this moment like a camera.

    It's still early, not noon yet. The water ripples and glistens in the breeze and sun. The day stretches out in front of us like it will never end. It will, though. End.
  • It only takes Eileen a few minutes before she laughs again, "Whew, Benny. I love how you wear me out." She looks at you, completely clothed. She sits up, scooting gingerly on the log to enjoy your warmth. She leaves her clothes askew, smiling and looking directly at you in that way that makes you melt. "I want to take care of you. Do you have any protection? What do you want, baby? Tell me your fantasy. I want you to remember it for days and days."
  • I give her a look. Bianca was so passive, but I did learn a few things about myself. Things that I never really did get a chance to... explore fully. "Condoms are at the cabin, unfortunately." I snuggle Eileen close, up to my chest, lean down and whisper in her ear. "How are you with knots?"
  • She lets you pull her to, snuggling. In answer to your question, she says, "Wanna go back to the cabin and find out?" She starts slipping her clothes back on, if you let her.
  • As she starts dressing, I take her hand and gently place it on my crotch, where my enthusiasm is obvious. "What do you think?" I hadn't necessarily planned on spending the entire day having sex, but I'm definitely not opposed to the idea.

    We kinda float back to the cabin. I know Eileen's still recovering and I'm walking in a haze of possibilities, not thinking about later-later, just thinking about 20 minutes from now. "We have been awake for almost two hours and I haven't said 'I love you' yet. I love you. And I'm glad you're hot and like sex. And smart. And that you call me on my bullshit. And all the other things."

    The cabin's in view now, through the trees. Before we go in, I pull Eileen in for a kiss.
  • She snickers when you tell her the reasons you love her, and there's no resistance when you pull her in for a kiss. She leans into it, and her hands roam again, going back to your crotch. She squeezes your hardness and giggles into your mouth.

    When you come up for air, "You're stalling."
  • edited August 2014
    I am not stalling! I bend and grab Eileen behind the thighs, throw her over my shoulder. "Thag not stall. Thag take what Thag want. Thag want pretty girl." I carry her into the cabin, dump her on a sofa.

    I drop out of caveman voice. "You sure you want to play? I've always... well, I've had... dammit." I clear my throat. "This whole thing. The Mad City, everything. For this whole time it's seemed like whatever control I have over events has been pretty weak. I mean, I can react, and choose how I react, but I haven't been choosing what I react to. It's been sort of just one thing after another."

    "You know what? Right now I want to surrender to something, to someone. And that's you, Eileen. Tie me up, use me, abuse me, do your worst. It's what I want. I'll even make you a sammich, if you command it."
  • Eileen squeals with laughter when you play caveman on her. She giggles like crazy when you plop her on the couch, but grows quiet when you finally share your fantasy.

    You can see in her eyes that she's taking you seriously now. She sits up, watching you, nodding, making little noises that she "gets you". She does. She totally gets you.

    Dramatically, she sits up, taking a stern posture. With her oft arched brow, she says imperiously, "Then, slave. Strip. Not a stitch on you. Once you're properly undressed, stoke the fire to keep us me warm."
  • "Yes, ma'am." I forgot, we watched a bootleg copy of Secretary a few years ago. I think we were both perplexed at the time, but it's making more sense now. Also, Eileen did read that Fifty Shades of Grey book. She kept trying to tell me about it. Which should've been a sign.

    I skin out of my clothes as fast as I can, not folding or anything, just tossing them to the side. Then I lay more logs on the grate, add a few of the newspaper-kindling twists from the basket. Light it up. I kneel, ass toward Eileen, and blow on the kindling until the wood catches.

    I stand. "Ma'am?"
  • As you're blowing on the kindling, Eileen's bare toes gently rub against your ass. "I like seeing you like that, slave," she says in that same imperious tone.

    Once the wood catches and the fire grows, the place gets a bit warmer. "Ah. Very good. Now, pull a chair over from the dining table, and have a seat. I'm going to tie you up."
  • I do as commanded. Pull a chair to the center of the rug, facing away from the fire and toward Eileen. I sit quietly, hands in my lap. Awaiting instructions.
  • edited August 2014
    Eileen prances around you, chin up, looking down her cute nose at you in her haughty manner. She's looking around the room as she does this. Finally, she spots something, and orders, "Eyes front, slave. Don't move, or you will be punished severely."

    She takes off at a bit of a jog then dashes up the stairs, giggling a little. She's faced the chair so you're staring at the fire while she's gone. It's crackling the logs, the flame's less than a foot above them, but it reminds you of the Magnificent Howler's realm.

    You distantly hear Eileen returning. Feels like she was gone forever, but was probably a few minutes. You literally heard her opening half the cabinets in the place, going outside, and giggling madly the whole time. She must have found something exciting at one point, because she gasped, then made a "Mmn Hmmn" noise.

    Then, everything goes black. The fire disappears in darkness. You feel something pulled taut around the back of your head. Eileen leans into your ear, "I've blind-folded you, my little pretty. Now, I'm going to tie you to this chair, and have my way with you. I'm going to take pictures, too. Of my little... fuck slave." She hesitated before saying "fuck", like she's said it a million times but this time it seemed naughtier or something.

    "Are you ready for this, slave?" she asks, her tone a bit more serious, checking in, like, making sure this is exactly what you want. She's tying ropes, probably the ropes from the boat gear trunk outside, around your ankles, not so tight they hurt, but yeah, she's tying you up.
  • Yesss. This is what I want. I feel the ropes and my entire skin has suddenly become a single gigantic sexual organ, sensitive, aching. It almost won't matter where she touches me, as long as she touches me. In my best Cary Elwes voice, I respond to her question, somewhere between a whisper and a moan. "As... you... wish."
  • Eileen makes a cute nonverbal sound of pleasure when you drop into your "Wesley". Princess Bride is one of her favorite movies of all time.

    She spends delicious minutes slowly stroking your body as she pulls ropes across. She'll never be an effective kidnapper, that's for sure. You pick up that she's in a bra when you feel the soft skin of her stomach on your forearm when she leans over you to fix a knot.

    Eventually, when there are five loops over your chest and arms and at least as many over your thighs and calves, she steps back. She makes a few noises of approval. "You look so fucking hot like this, Beh... SLAVE."

    Eileen moves over to your ear, her hair tickling your neck and shoulders, "I'll give you a choice of what you get first, slave boy. Do you want the feather? Or the wax?"
  • "If my mistress is offering her humble slave a choice, then he chooses... surprise me."

    Anticipation. Desire. It's like touching a nine-volt battery to my tongue. Part of me wants to reach out, grab Eileen. I'm glad I'm restrained and can't. Glad she's in control.
  • After a few moments of silence, you hear the sound of a match striking. Then you smell something that brings back a powerful sense memory - the Wax King's Palace. What images come to mind and hold your attention then?

    The images swirl as your leg burns suddenly. Hot, quick pain in a circle on your left thigh, then it runs down the outside of your thigh. Wax. The first is followed by two more, until Eileen lets out a stifled gasp, like she is still figuring out how to do this.

    You feel her move closer, the warmth of her body greater than the fire. Then you feel her warm skin on your knee, she;s straddled your leg and sat down, wiggling her firm ass on your knee and chuckling when your dick reacts. She leans forward and drips more wax, this time on your chest. It hurts for a second or two, then dissipates, with the odd liquid sensation of it rolling down your chest to your stomach.

    "How do you like this, slave?"
  • The Wax King himself, candle slowly dripping but never consumed. Valiant Madalena, flames flickering in the dark sockets of her eyes. That first meal, consumed among the ever present smell of wax.

    Even knowing it was coming, the surprise as much as the pain itself makes me gasp. Oh ye gods, that was astonishing. Then again and again and the repetition is reinforcement and if I weren't restrained I would certainly have done something, but as it is I can only feel. I feel her ass on my knee and the wax on my chest hot and dripping and a switch has flipped in my brain and the base of my cock and oh shit.

    I'm panting as I respond. "Ungh." I find words from somewhere. "Yes... mistress..."
  • The wax stops.

    Eileen stands up from your knee, and chuckles, a little derisively. You think she's getting into this.

    After a few minutes of blind solitude, you feel a tickling at your neck, then your ear. It's almost itchy, but not quite. She has evidently found a feather outside, pulled it out of a pillow or something. And she starts barely running it along the ridge of your ear, across your cheek, your lips. You feel her standing over you, her tummy against your left hand. "Tell me how much you adore me... slave."
  • Oh man, the feather. I forgot about the feather. Again, it's the uncertainty, not knowing where it will touch me next. Again, if I weren't restrained I'd probably make a grab for it or for her, instinctively. Instead, I anticipate every touch, try to predict where Hurricane Eileen will make landfall next. Muscles taut, nipples tight and hard.

    "Mistress, your slave is not even worthy to adore you. Your slave worships you."
  • You hear her snort a laugh, but she stifles it quickly. "Damn right." She moves away from you, then tickles at your feet for a few minutes. She spends enough time dancing around your feet and legs that the sensation seems to come from everywhere. The itching grows to burning, delicious burning.

    And it's gone.

    She leaves you there, in the blind dark, no sensations, no sounds to find her, just the crackling of the fire. For how long? How much time passes? Feels like forever.

    She could be right there, just watching. Torturing you. She could be gone. What if the wax summoned the King and he stole her away? What if Bianca's back and pissed and Eileen's dead at your feet? What if Eileen's just sitting there touching herself watching you like this? How would you even know?

    How long do you last before you say something? Anything?
  • At first, I'm sure it's part of the game, I'm even smiling in anticipation of Eileen's next move. Then, just the fire in the grate crackling and settling. How long? I'm bound, blindfolded. How long has it been? I start to count heartbeats, not wanting to spoil Eileen's game if she's still playing it. At one hundred heartbeats, a surprisingly long time subjectively, I say, "Mistress?"
  • "Did my slave doubt me?" Eileen says in a sharp tone that she's getting surprisingly good at. "Do you think I left you all alone? Well, that's not good, slave."

    You hear the couch creak and quick steps forward. Eileen's working at all the knots, "Now I'm going to punish you for doubting your mistress. I'm going to spank you, little slave."
  • Relief washes through my in waves, and Eileen's voice of command reinvigorates the excitement that had drained away in my worry. "I'm sorry, mistress." I remain still as she starts to untie me, struggling a little with knots that may not have been the most expertly tied. So far, aside from her unnerving withdrawal, this has been really working for me, although I was surprised to hear myself asking for it. "Your slave deserves punishment, mistress." I wish I could see her face.
  • edited August 2014
    As if she read your mind, she pulls off the blind-fold, which turned out to be one of her soccer socks, long and triple striped at the end. Clean, of course. She's in some very nice looking bra and panties, black with light pink frills and a tiny pink bow between her breasts. She must've brought this special, she wasn't wearing it yesterday, or this morning.

    She's smiling like she can't help it, so excited with this that her demeanor of the harsh mistress has slipped a little. She walks over, in high heels you notice, to take a seat on the couch. Her imperious tone returns as she commands, "Crawl over here, and lay across my lap, slave."
  • Wow. That's... she's... I stare at the bow for just a second too long before I obey the command. She lets that little smile escape and I almost want to break the game and sweep her up into a hug. I don't, though. I'm too excited to find out what's next.

    I crawl over as commanded, exaggerating a little, swaying my ass from side to side like a jungle cat. I look up at her as I pull myself up to lay across her lap, sneaking in a little sniff of the skin on her thighs as I do. Once I'm in position, "Yes, Mistress."
  • Your casual sniff of her thigh brings you a hint of her arousal. She waits for you to lay over her lap. Once you call her mistress, she coos lightly. She takes her right hand and gently strokes your lower back, then glides her fingertips over your ass. She lingers over your left cheek, drawing wide, lazy circles, smiling. She delights in your flesh right now, being in control, being comfortable with you.


    She did it quick, like ripping off a band-aid. It if weren't for the sound, you might doubt it happened. There is a little sting reminder.


    This was with purpose. She bit the inside of her cheek while she smacked your ass, this time a little harder. She left her hand there, on you. She slowly smooths her palm across the reddened skin. Her voice is soft, warm, "You are such a good little boy. Such a good little boy."
  • "Thank you, mistress." Oh, man, I am glad I suggested this experiment. She must feel me against her thigh, harder than Superman flying over a nudist colony. I wiggle a little bit, just to make sure.
  • edited August 2014
    She spanks you a few more times, then gently rubs your bottom, complimenting you for being so good. And yes, when you "remind her" of your excitement, she purrs.

    After a few minutes of this, she sits up and taps your ass lightly, "I would like something different, slave." She waits for you to crawl off her, and you see her grinning despite her attempts to keep things under control. She narrows her eyes to slits and says in as stern a tone as she can manage, "Go lie on your back on the rug there, in front of the fire. I'm going to pleasure myself on you. And you are not allowed to cum until I say you can."
  • "Yes, mistress." I do as she commands, but the second part, about waiting? That's going to be a challenge. I lie down on the rug and wait. Apparently we are both sex fiends. I'm okay with that.
  • Eileen waits for you, sitting on the couch and smiling. Once you've laid down, she walks over in her heels and lifts one leg over your body to stand over you, still dressed in her sexy bra and panties. She looks down at you , her hair hanging down in her face before she sits down on her knees, her butt right on top of your erection. She wiggles a bit and giggles when you squirm.

    Without doing anything else, she sits up slightly, pushes her panties aside, reaches for your cock, and slides down onto it. She sighs as she does so, and quickly begins riding up and down on you. "You may only touch my hips, slave. That is all."
  • I continue to follow her commands until finally we cannot keep on with the game and we simply fall into each other, giggling and growling and astonishing ourselves with passion. We finish together and lie panting on the rug. "Wow. We'll have to remember that game."

    The rest of the day is just being together, touching most of the time. There are the occasional melancholy looks. I'll be taking a risk, going to the Mad City, but the greater risk is, I think, not going. Late in the afternoon, I put a windbreaker back on and grill the salmon and asparagus Eileen brought while she watches from the picnic table. Dinner conversation is light, just the usual topics that bring us together. At some point, we both clearly have the sense that it's time.
  • --END SCENE--
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