The Wood Nymph Pt. 01

The girl stops for a moment to catch her breath. Her lungs are burning – she has been running for some time now. Fit as she is, this is nothing like her typical jog in the park. Here almost every step is a fight. She is deep in the woods and has been struggling to find a path. Branches are tangling in her long hair and whipping her across the face, bushes are scratching her bare legs and she keeps stumbling over roots. Her knees are scraped and she is covered in scratches and cuts.

At least she has shoes on, but not much else. She is wearing just a t-shirt, no bra underneath, and panties. If she weren’t panicking so much, she might have felt cold. No time to think about that though. No time to think at all. She is being hunted and the only thing in her head is the blind imperative to not get caught.

2

Finally they arrive at the place. It was a long drive but once they got off the highway, the countryside was beautiful. Lush, green pastures, rapeseed fields in brilliant yellow, bright, blue sky full of promise. Late spring has always been her favorite season.

The cottage in front of them is a lovely, wood-clad building with a luxurious feel and all the modern amenities one could ask for, yet still cozy and warm. The girl has been looking forward to a weekend away for a long time and she is glad she didn’t come alone.

The man sitting in the driver’s seat is gorgeous – tall, strong and handsome in a rugged way. A man’s man. She turns to look at him and feels her insides clench with desire – that sweet craving which stems from the fear of not knowing what is to come, mixed with anticipation and fantasy. He looks at her with his piercing green eyes and she sees in them that her emotions are reciprocated. And something more as well – the intention to possess her. The intensity in his stare is so strong, for a second she gets scared. What was she thinking – coming in the middle of nowhere with a man she barely knows! But she blinks and that look is gone, as if it was only her imagination. He smiles at her, tells her to wait and goes out to open the door for her. Such a gentleman, she thinks. Of course he wouldn’t do anything bad to her, right?

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The girl leaves him to deal with the luggage as she walks into the cottage, taking in the beautiful, welcoming interior. If only she could stay here for more than two days! It is so peaceful! She can’t wait to snuggle on the large sofa with a cup of aromatic rooibos and enjoy the beautiful, serene scenery outside through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. She could spend the entire day just reading a book, every now and then lifting her head to marvel at the landscape and rest her eyes on the greenery.

She is startled out of her reverie when his strong hand grabs her neck from behind and spins her to face him. Before she has had a moment to say anything, he leans down and kisses her, his hand still squeezing and keeping her in place. She parts her lips willingly and their tongues encircle each other in a slow, tantalizing dance. The kiss is so delicious, she falls into the rabbit hole of him – his stubble brushing against her skin, the smell of his woody perfume, the feel of his chest against hers, the unwavering strength in his fingers on the back of her neck. It’s been a long time since she has been held like that and her excitement rises quickly. Without realizing it, she has missed this so much! The power, the possessive desire, the absoluteness of his being in charge. But still there is a tiny voice of reason at the back of her head telling her she doesn’t know this man enough to trust him yet. Despite the need in her body, she should try to keep a clear head.

He pulls back from the kiss and moves his hand to her throat. He is not using much force yet – it is very tempting to press harder and watch as her gaze unfocuses, filling with want and, as the pressure increases – first confusion and then fear – but there will be a time for that. Now he is still only testing his playground and its limits. Her lips are parted a little, desire radiating from her, and in that moment she is so pure and sweet, so soft in his hands that a wave of excitement crashes into his body, catching him by surprise.

“Take off your clothes” he orders.

The girl doesn’t expect this development but she obeys. Her jacket drops on the ground. He lets go of her so that she can remove her t-shirt. He doesn’t have to hold her – he commands her just with a look, by willing it so. She stands there in her bra and jeans and looks down. He can see she is blushing slightly and her embarrassment turns him on even more.

They haven’t been intimate yet, so she hesitates a bit as she unhooks her bra. She is ashamed to show him that her nipples are hard from arousal even though he has barely touched her. She knows from the heat she is feeling between her thighs that she is wet and ready.

Just as she begins falteringly unbuttoning her jeans, he puts his hand around her throat again and tells her that is enough for now. He uses his free hand to remove his belt, turns her around and ties her arms together, just above the elbows. He tightens the belt as much as possible, bringing her shoulder blades together. She gasps with pain but says nothing. He spins her so she is facing him and takes a step back to look at her.

The way her arms are tied makes her breasts perk up in a very delicious way. Her nipples are erect and dark pink – like candy – and her chest rises up with heavy breaths.

Aroused as he is, he doesn’t want to play yet. He would love to fondle her breasts and then push her down on her knees and shove his hardening cock in her mouth, but he doesn’t want to hurry. He knows she is hungry for what he has to offer, but she is also a bit inexperienced and can easily get frightened and pull back. He likes the girl and doesn’t want this to be the first and last time they play. That is okay, he can be very patient. With midsummer around the corner, they still have a lot of daylight left – plenty of time for what he has in mind.

With a hand on her neck he leads her toward an armchair. Placing a cushion from the sofa on the ground next to the armchair, he tells her to kneel. She slowly lowers herself down, glad to be facing the view outside.

“Wait here and don’t move”, he instructs in a calm voice then goes to boil water for tea. “Rooibos, right?” It’s not really a question, he knows her tea preferences already and that attention to detail makes her smile.

A few minutes later he returns, carrying a tray with a teapot and two mugs. He places the tray on the coffee table and pours steaming hot tea for both of them. Then he takes out a book, sits on the armchair and begins reading, placing one hand on the back of her neck.

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Even though resting and looking out the window is nice, and the way the man is absent-mindedly running his fingers along her neck and through her hair is very calming (and slightly arousing), after some time she begins feeling the growing discomfort of her position and shuffles slightly. The tiny movement catches his attention and he glances up to her. He puts the book down and smiles. She does look very enticing, kneeling on the ground next to him, bound and boobs out. He reaches down to brush her nipples – they are softer now, her arousal has abated a bit, but that doesn’t worry him – he sees how she responds to him.

He takes a cup of tea from the table and carefully sips, checking it has sufficiently cooled. He lifts her cup to her mouth, holding her head with one hand and helping her to it. He purposefully tilts the cup just a smidge too much and watches with enjoyment as a stream of tea leaks from the side of her mouth, flows along her clavicle, travels between her breasts and finally nestles in her belly button. He puts the cup down and follows the wet trail with his finger, taking pleasure in the way she reacts to his touch – as if electricity is passing between them. She giggles when he tickles her belly button and the ringing of her genuine laughter brings him a sense of contentment.

He stands up and with strong hands on her waist lifts her on her feet. Pressing her to him with one hand, he kisses her again, more violently this time, tasting the sweet, chocolatey tea on her tongue. Then he removes the belt and massages her arms until her muscles relax and the blood circulation returns to normal. The girl is put at ease by the way he is taking care of her, some of her concerns alleviated. She looks up and smiles at him.

“Thank you… “, she pauses for a second ” …Sir”, she adds.

“My pleasure, babygirl!” He smiles back and pinches her cheek with delight. He loves a sweet girl – they are the most fun to watch as they give themselves over to pleasure (and pain) and lose control. Turning angels into sluts brings him great amounts of satisfaction.

“Take your jeans off, but make it interesting”, he instructs, as he sits on the sofa.

The girl is not used to performing and hesitates for a second. She is not shy – on the contrary – she is proud of her sexuality, but still, his unflinching gaze is a bit disconcerting. But she does want him to find her sexy, to retain at least a little bit of control by having him desire her as much as she does him. So she tries her best – swirling to the rhythm of music that is playing only in her head; touching her naked skin sensually; getting down on the floor and crawling around on all four – being as seductive as she can.

When she feels she has danced long enough, she gets back on her feet and slowly unbuttons her jeans. She turns her back to him and begins peeling them off as she bends over, then goes to sit in his lap, facing away from him. She can feel his erection and smiles internally that her performance has been successful. The man grabs her hair and harshly pulls her head back – making her gasp in surprise and pain – then whispers in her ear “Good job, little one, I enjoyed that.”

He moves his hand to her throat, pinning her closely against his body, and while his other hand travels from her sternum, down her belly and finally between her thighs. As he begins rubbing her clit over her panties, she realizes any control she might have had during her dance – her seduction prowess giving her a sense of power – was just an illusion – he is the one who decides what happens every second of their time together. She is not sure how good an idea that really is, but a wave of pleasure makes her forget her concerns.