For Hannah

The car hit a bump in the road and James heard a loud *thump* come from the trunk, which made him smile. He'd missed this - getting out into the woods, enjoying nature, having a little fun. It was just what he needed after another long day at the rat race. There were going to be a lot more bumps coming up as the road petered out from gravel to dirt and ruts, but he knew that road well enough to dodge at least a few of them.

Twenty minutes later James arrived at the cabin - a refuge that had been in his family for generations. He got out of his sensible sedan and inhaled deeply. "Ahh, the air is just cleaner here, you know?" he said to no one in particular, and whistled a few notes in a short off-the-cuff tune as he walked up to the front door and unlocked it. He did his usual inspection of the place, making sure there was no rain rot or other weather damage, checking the supports and braces for the home. It didn't take long, the cabin was rather small, but he took his time to make sure it was done properly. He tugged on the final rope in his checklist and felt a satisfying reassuring strength to it. He glanced down at his watch - six thirty, and at this time of the year it was darkening quickly. He stood and rolled up the sleeves on his new shirt revealing just the ends of his half-sleeve tattooed biceps. He found one of the million stickers new clothes come with that had stowed away and absentmindedly flicked it into the trash can. Mentally he was going over his list, checking and rechecking that everything was in its proper place and ready. He decided better about it and moved all the cutlery in the cabin into the gun cabinet near the fireplace, which he locked securely, and placed the stepstool near the back door, which he unlatched but left as close to closed as possible.

Darkening had turned to darkened when he finally made his way back out to his car. He popped the trunk and there she was, Susan, glaring up at him with wild and manic energy in her steely gray-blue eyes. Her mouth was taped shut and she was bound with strong ropes, her hands and feet hogtied together behind her back with a few loops around her chest for support and to emphasize her cleavage. She was dressed in a much more practical outfit than he, one of her dark gray tank tops and a pair of acid washed jeans. She had clearly been planning for this back at their home. As James gave her a once over, much the same way as he had inspected the cabin, he found a few bruises and a bump under her tangle of now-unkempt red hair. He reminded her that she was free to tap out any time she wanted and he could swear she tried to spit on him through the tape. Perfect.

James hoisted Susan up onto his shoulder with the same effort as one might lift a bag of dog food, closed the trunk with one hand, and carried her inside. She thrashed around a bit while he carried her but stilled herself when they came to the door to avoid hitting her already sore head. "Fierce and practical" he thought to himself, feeling a love for her tugging at his heart.

He walked her into the bedroom and unceremoniously flopped her onto the bed. He took a moment to crack his back and square his shoulders, rubbing his jaw from where she'd sucker punched him earlier. He may outclass her in raw strength but she had a burning inner fire that made her no slouch. And a hell of a right hook. He turned her onto her stomach and grabbed the ropes binding her. This was the riskiest part of the whole process. Carefully he untied her wrists and ankles and slowly slid the rope completely off of her, which he spooled into a loop as she rubbed her hands and wrists. He hooked the rope through one of his back belt loops and for a moment he worried he'd gone too far with the trunk when his vision tilted unexpectedly backwards as the wind knocked out of him.

Susan retracted her leg from kicking James in the gut and would have smiled were it not for the tape. "Should have been more careful" she thought to herself before leaping over him and off the bed, striding confidently toward the front door with a mocking sway in her hips that she knew would drive him wild when he finally saw it. He loved those jeans, and the quarter-bouncing ass in them, more than most people love their family. He was going to have to come take it by force if he wanted it, too. The thought tickled and tingled her before she glanced over her shoulder, red curls sweeping out of the way, to see how well he'd recovered.

If she'd expected him to be doubled over and wheezing she was about to be roughly disappointed; rough being the operative word. He was two feet behind her and already crouching to pounce into a tackle when she looked and she stumbled a little in surprise before he took her to the ground. Her back was pressed into the hardwood floor as he pinned her legs beneath him by sitting on her thighs but she still had her hands, which she balled into fists and began swinging into his head. The first swing met with a satisfying heft and must have caught him slightly unaware as it whipped his head sideways for half a second. She almost felt a moment of guilt herself before she instead felt his right hand close around her neck and his left slide behind her back and grasp her right upper arm, leaving her nothing but a painful arch in her back and her head free. She regretted having cockily left the tape on as she wanted to bite him with all of her strength. She let out a howl behind her mostly closed mouth - not in pain but in frustration at not being able to more easily fight back.

He stood and pulled her up with him, keeping his grip firm while deftly turning her around to press her back against him. Keeping her pulled in close made it so she couldn't easily swing a leg back into his ankles, a lesson he had learned the hard way. Feeling her apple-ass rub against his cock as she turned nearly sent him into a frenzy, which would have been a mistake that would cost precious time. Instead he took a moment to enjoy the sensation, slipping fully between her cheeks and gently rubbing up and down. Susan noticed the movement and arched her rear up slightly to meet him and compliment his slow and insistant rubbing.

The thought and feeling of what she did to him flowed through her mind and stiffened her nipples against the textured fabric of her tank top. She was on her toes now, rubbing against him, knowing that he would claim her soon once again and anticipating every second of it. Time dragged on for a heavenly eternity in this pleasure but in less than an instant it was over, and he was leading her through the back of the cabin. They passed by the bedroom, and she glanced around with a slight tinge of anxiety - where was he taking her? He used her body to unceremoniously push open the back door, which he had apparently left unlatched for just such an occasion, and down to the woodshed. Even here, in the wilderness miles from anyone else and still almost fully clothed she felt naked and exposed. Whatever he was leading her toward was something new to their games.

James rounded the corner of the shed with Susan marching in hesitant steps in front. He released his hold around her throat and coarsely shoved her whole body up against the wall of the shed. He used his hand to roughly pull her hair to one side, exposing her neck, which he bit into ferociously. He loved the feeling of her quickening pulse under his teeth and the confused micro-movements her head made as she tried to puzzle out his plan. He released his grip with his hand, but not his mouth, and reached to the rope dangling behind him that he'd quickly hooked through his belt loops earlier. With a practiced motion that comes only from doing something a thousand times he looped the rope through one of the two heavy steel rings he'd secured to the shed last weekend, twins to the ones in their bedroom at home, before pulling it down and tying her right wrist up tightly. He secured it back through the loop and then wound it across, over her head and through the other ring, coming down and encircling her left. Both hands fully secured he finally unlatched his jaw from her and inspected his work - deep teeth marks that may last a few days, possibly some bruising, no lasting harm, perfect. He then spent a few moments adjusting the ropes until she was just barely on her toes, nearly suspended by her restraints and stuck in a painful ballet pointe that would have made her cry out in pain had she not been made to take so many lessons as a child. Still, it wouldn't be long before it started to be hell on her calves.

He took a few steps back to admire his work and to see if she would be able to escape it. Susan struggled, testing each rope by pulling with her full strength and trying to squeeze her hands into as small of shapes as she could - no dice. For a moment she felt the panic and rage of a caged animal, and she was loving every second of it. "Clever bastard" she thought to herself, and loved him more than ever.


James took a step back and gave himself a moment to admire his work, and Susan's perfect ass, forced up into the air and flexing as she tried to keep her balance. He was surprised she didn't take the tape off, but by no means was he going to remove it himself and risk losing a finger. Instead he rounded the dark corner and fumbled momentarily with the lock to the shed before it creaked open and the darkness within begrudgingly allowed him to pull the hanging light string. There was the duffle bag he'd placed there last weekend, as well as the lamp and extension cord. All according to plan. He hummed a little tune to himself as he bent to plug in the cord and collected everything up, pulled the string again with his teeth, and kicked the door shut behind him.

Susan had no idea what was in the shed beyond firewood and a saw, but she was more excited than she was worried. James often planned well for these sorts of things and she couldn't even guess what he had in store for her today. She strained to hear any sort of clues and caught only his humming before he kicked the door shut. He was always whistling or humming when he was really in the zone with his work, and she knew that whatever it was he had in store would put her in her place. She leaked feminine arousal into her panties, guessing at what was to come.

James rounded the corner, unspooling the extension cord behind him before setting down the lamp, plugging it in, and flicking it on. It was one of those photographer's lights with approximately ten billion lumens of searing white hot illumination. He fiddled with the stand for a moment, bringing the light low to the ground and stretching long shadows from him out over Susan and into the night. He could feel the heat and low buzz coming from the bulb and he thought it sounded a bit like cicadas in the far distance. He set down the duffel back in the browning early winter grass and went back into the cabin to grab the step stool he had stored near the door just in case there was any need for it. He placed it just within eyeshot, but not within reach, of Susan, torturing her with the proximity of relief that she would only taste when he gave it to her.

James took another moment to admire his wife's figure, the one that had born them both two beautiful children. He saw the taught, practical arm muscles of a woman who had carried children for seemingly years on end and the calves of someone used to tiptoeing around sleeping cribs. He saw their history unfolding as art on her beautiful canvas, and imagined if what he was about to do would leave its own marks, it's own history and story to be told, after today.

Susan, for her part, was definitely beginning to feel the burn. Not just in her calves, but also from the bright light that she scrunched her eyes against, even turned away from it. She was sweating now, beads of it running down her face and making her shirt stick to her back - a shock from the crisp autumn air of moments ago. She was soaked in her own clothes now - not just her panties but everything down to her toes, she was sure of it. Or maybe it was her imagination running wild as she tried in vain to think of a way to rub the bead of sweat tickling the end of her nose, surely driving her mad by inches.

Snapping from his reverie, James noticed Susan's struggle and, knowing this was too cruel even for him, unzipped the duffel bag and pulled out a towel and a bottle of powerade - mountain blast, her favorite - which he opened and plopped a straw into. He walked over to Susan and wiped the end of her nose and her brow before gently pulling the tape off of her mouth and offering her a drink. "We chose pickle as the word today, just to make sure you remember," he offered as she drank, and added "I think you had thought the phallic imagery was amusing. You should also be able to tap the wall with either hand if you need to, if I placed the rings right." She nodded her understanding and tapped the wall once before squinting up through the hot white light and looking into his eyes. She gave a small nod to let him know that she was ready to go.

James set what little of the drink was left down on the grass and tossed the rag over his shoulder, then strode up directly behind Susan and reached around her on both sides to undo her pants, struggling with the seemingly infinite number of buttons. His cock found its home nestled between her cheeks and it briefly stopped him from tugging her jeans down before he pushed it aside. Immediately he was met by her bouquet, a strong smell that went straight through his nose to the pleasure and sex parts of his brain. He gently kissed her neck before pulling her panties off and carelessly whipping them out into the yard. He thought long and hard about whether to take her just like this, right here and right now, but he knew he still had more work to do.

Taking a half step back and feeling his heart break just the tiniest bit as he could no longer feel her perfect ass around him, James took a deep breath to steel his resolve, then gripped her tank top with both hands and roared primally as he tore it in two, roughly down the middle on both sides leaving two pieces of fabric dangling from her arms. He felt the raw power in his muscles and smiled at the release. He then took hold of the loose ends of each piece of the fabric dangling from her shoulders and tied them tightly together, forcing her shoulders back and jutting her chest forward, tightening until the tips of her nipples brushed against the old wood and fading paint of the shed. It was kludgy, he would be the first to admit, but it worked. Susan moaned at the new rough sensations and James wondered if she had forgotten that he had taken the tape from her mouth. He'd assumed he would be assaulted by threats of extreme violence by this point, but he was more fazed by the silence of what wasn't said. Still, he had work to do and she hadn't tapped out yet.


Susan, for her part, after six eternities of struggling against the sweat-bead of madness, found unexpected sweet sweat relief in the form of a jarringly soft towel. Then she was drinking - mountain blast, her favorite. James always thought of everything. She greedily sucked down all she could before considering that she may need to pee before she was let down and stopped just shy of draining the bottle. "We chose pickle today, just to make sure you remember," James whispered in her ear, and she stifled a laugh at remembering the conversation that had led up to choosing that word in particular. She had been coming up with more and more absurd euphemisms for cock (Sausage!,Baseball Bat! Meat Hammer!), much to James' playful annoyance, when he asked about a safeword. "Pickle!" she had blurted out, and so mote it be. He had been saying a few more reassuring words to her, which she nodded to and tapped the wall to indicate that she could before he sidled up behind her. He was so close she could feel his diamond hard member pressing through his slacks into her rear - the man was insatiable when it came to her ass, which she had grown to love if only due to his insistence. He was teaching her to love herself one worshipped body part at a time, it seemed, and she couldn't say she didn't feel more confident for it all.

His hands were snaking across her waistline now, struggling with the three buttons that held her jeans in place. She subtly grinded against him which she knew would frustrate his efforts. Before she could tease him very long he roughly tugged them down and peeled them off of her legs. She was immediately hit with the smell of her sex; she was right about being soaked in at least one place, it seemed. He hesitated for just a moment before doing the same with her panties, freeing her to both the tingle of the cool ambient air on her mound and the pulsing waves of the heat from the light on her legs and the sides of her ass and hips that he wasn't shielding her from. The dichotomy made her shiver involuntarily in pleasure.

She felt him pull away from her, confused for a moment before she realized that it would be impossible for him to remove her top as both her arms were restrained. She smirked slightly at his slip up when she felt him firmly grasp the shirt in both hands. A moment later her smirk was replaced with shock when she heard a primal yell - his orgasm sound! He couldn't have- her shirt! He was tearing her shirt in half! "Holy hell that's hot" she thought, feeling even more blood rush to her nipples and clit "but I'm going to make him pay for ruining one of my favorite shirts." She would be riding him hard and staring daggers into his eyes if she could only get free of these ropes.


James walked over to the duffel bag and unzipped it the rest of the way, revealing the tools of this particular trade: a four speed wand vibrator, a bamboo cane, a buttplug, and a new kitchen timer. He took his time laying them out precisely and checking to make sure they were clean and in good working order, knowing that each moment he took only raised Susan's discomfort and sensitivity. Once he was satisfied he plugged in the vibrator and set the timer for one minute. Holding it in his left hand at the ready he strode to Susan, grabbed her hair with the right, pulled her head flat to her shoulder, leaned down and bit her earlobe. He whispered between his teeth "I'm going to make this take a long, long time" and flicked the wand on. He pressed the wand into her quim, her lips spreading greedly around its head which he pressed over the hood of her clit and gently rocked it back and forth, syncing the rhythm to her breathing. A moment later he released her hair and grabbed her breast with his right hand, massaging it gently and teasing her rock hard nipple in the same rhythm as the back of his hand scraped against the weathered wall of the shed, sending tiny flecks of dried paint dancing across her chest and sticking in her sweat. He flicked the speed up on the vibe and knew that she wouldn't be able to last long after this much buildup. Still through teeth gripped around her earlobe he growled "if you cum I'm going to make you pay for it." Her body shuddered in ecstasy.

RRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNG the timer shrieked, and James instantly released his grasp, both with his hand and his teeth, flicked off the vibe, and stood back from Susan, watching and waiting in expectant amusement. She shuddered again before letting out a whining sigh made of mixed pleasure and frustration. "Tsk tsk, whining now? That won't do" he said through a growing sadistic grin. He wiped off the wand with the towel and set them both gingerly down in their place among the other tools. He picked up the cane and smacked it into his open palm a few times, letting it whistle through the air, so that she knew exactly what was coming. "This is your first offense tonight, so I'm going to go easy on you" he informed her, the grin now clearly evident in his voice. "Count out five for me, love" he added, taking a batter's stance to her side in a spot he estimated was just barely visible in the edges of her vision. He tested it by swinging the cane just enough to make it whistle menacingly and saw just the tiniest flinch. "Yes, sir" she responded dutifully.

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