Abandoned
- 4 years ago
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Abandonement free porn video
I drive to the GPS coordinates in my phone, a secluded, wooded area. Grabbing the tote bag my Master had given me, I follow a barely visible path through the trees and brush to a small clearing, barely twenty feet across.
I drop my bag in front of an oak tree and retrieve the rope I'd been told to bring. I tie one end securely around my left wrist and kneel with my back against the tree trunk, wiggling my wide-spread knees to each side until the bark caresses my spine through my thin summer dress. I don the blindfold Master had provided, and wrap my arms around the oak, tying my own wrists behind me as my Master had taught me.
I am alone and see only blackness. I hear everything: birds in the trees, the rustle of the wind through the leaves, the silence in between. I can do nothing. Nothing but wait. And I will wait. I wait for my Master, for only he knows what I truly need:
Rescue.
I don't ask myself how I came to need this. I once did, but in my inability to understand myself, I stopped. Why it is does not matter to me. It simply is, and I must have it.
Master did not put me here. I did. My fears must be real in order to be faced. Is this real? It's as close as I can get, and I am thankful for it.
Somewhere in the blackness I see, there are memory clips, moments out of time, my moments of anguish. I see a pickup truck pulling out of a driveway, boxes stacked in any empty house, a house that had been a home but is no longer. The home that was is in the boxes. My mother is crying, the sound of her quiet sobbing forms the soundtrack of my life.
I will not cry, for my Master is near. My Master will come for me.
I hear footfalls crunching the fallen leaves. He is here. My Master says nothing, but I feel him in the air. I hear the snap of scissors, opening and closing. I feel the taut hem of my dress relax as it is cut slowly up the middle. I feel the coldness of the back of the scissor blade as it slides between my breasts, snipping upward until at last it parts my dress completely.
The material falls to the side, exposing me. The chill of the blade slides across one shoulder, snipping first one strap, then the other. I feel the friction of the material as it is pulled away, leaving my back bare against the tree trunk.
Master makes no sound as I feel the scissors slither under the waistband of my panties on my left hip. Snip! Then the cool caress of the blade broaches the cotton guarding my right hip. Snip!
My panties are pulled away and I am naked and open. I hear my Master's footfalls on the leaves and twigs as he leaves me. I am afraid.
I cry out to no one, "Please! Please don't leave me! Don't leave me here! Please... please."
Each crunch encourages my growing despair until I know my Master has left me. I weep my mother's tears as I slump back against the oak, tied down and waiting. I will believe, I must believe, that my Master will return for me, that somewhere, sometime, someone will come to my rescue.
Each minute is an hour as I wait, naked and alone. I feel the air grow warmer as the afternoon sun passes overhead, but the heat bathing my face offers no comfort. In my blackness, I see only tail lights - the pickup truck receding from view, withdrawing from my life. So many years ago, and so fresh.
I become inured against the weight of the hours that pass. I cry, wetting the inside of my blindfold, but I know must be brave, as my mother had told me through her own tears.
The afternoon sun wanes in the sky, cooling me. Twilight approaches. I hear no sound, no snapping of twigs underfoot, but I feel my Master's presence.
My Master has come back for me. He loves me.
I say nothing as fingers stroke my hair. I rub my cheek against the invisible hand, wanting him. A fingernail scrapes lightly across my chest, I feel the gentle pinch of my nipple, the wetness between my legs. I am thankful as the unseen hand follows a path down my belly, between my widespread knees to my vagina, shaved bare as my Master had wished.
My Master's fingers trace an outline around my labia, so gentle, so loving, so reassuring. The essence of my love for my Master grows, seeping out, bathing my vulva as he parts my lips with his two strong thumbs. Two fingers meet at the top of my clitoral hood and slowly caress me, first outwards and then back together.
My pleasure supplants my fear. My tears are now of joy as the sobbing of despair becomes but a memory, conjoined with the images of my mother crying, relegated to the past, inflicting no further anguish upon the future.
I feel the tip of his tongue as it bathes first one side of my vulva, then the other. It circles my opening hole, then darts quickly and shallowly inside and back out. A gasp escapes me as the tongue moves up, circling my clit but denying its firm, direct embrace. My pleasure is my torture as I squirm against the tongue, trying to force its attention to where I need it the most, but it evades, continuing to deny me its ministrations.
I moan, "Please."
My Master's lips come together, enveloping my clitoris in their warmth, suckling me ever so gently. For a moment, I can't breathe as a welcome blush spreads over my body from my inner depths outward to my skin, delivering goosebumps in its wake.
My Master lightly chews my clit with his lips. He knows me, he knows what to do, backing off, mouthing my entire pussy, his lips planted firmly at the outer rim of my labia as the tip of his tongue flicks gently across my little nub.
I stiffen, my breath held as I near my bliss. I feel the rope against my wrists, the bark of the oak tree on the bare skin of my back, the scraping of broken leaves on my wide-spread kneecaps.
My Master has taken me and delivered me to this. I am coming. My orgasm poises, like a wave suspended as it curls, the crash impending, motionless in the air. I surrender as it falls, my orgasm invading me, taking both my body and soul as its captive.
My Master guides my ecstasy with quickened strokes. He draws his lips tightly to my clitoris, chewing hard, yet softly, firm and fast as his fingers worm as one into both my vagina and my anus. I am his, and he has me, and I am coming hard.
My breath returns as the wave hits hard. I stiffen as it rocks through my body, from my pussy to my palms, engulfing me. I quake under its power, its release freeing me. I am outside myself and I am deep within, shuddering in my climax.
Then, all touch is gone. Has my Master left me to crumple back against this mighty oak, shaking and shivering as I come down from the bliss that he has granted me? Am I alone again?
I am not. My Master's strong hands grasp the underside of my knees, lifting me. My body is pulled away from the tree, tightening the ropes securing my wrists behind it. He upends me, my legs bouncing forward as they are freed from my kneeling position. I am folded to my Master's will as I feel my ankles anchored upon each of his shoulders.
My Master no longer teases me. He is no longer gentle with me. I feel the entire shaft of his cock as it enters me quickly, piercing me to my core. I feel his pubic hair against my lips as he completes his journey to the depths of my womb. He does not linger as he fucks me like a brute. Only my shoulders, my arms and my wrists are touching the tree trunk as he suspends me for his vicious yet loving onslaught.
He is not raping me, for I am more than willing, but he fucks me as if he were. My pussy is so wet that as he pistons rapidly in and out of me, I feel my juices oozing out around his cock, dampening my buttocks. I want him so badly, and I have him. Even in the aftermath of my orgasm, I feel it building again. My Master says nothing as he impales me, hammering me as a new orgasm approaches.
Then his cock is gone, my vagina empty, and I am frantic. So close, why has he stopped? I grimace against a flash of pain as he thrusts deeply into my anus without mercy or hesitation. That incredible warmth and pressure in my bowels quickly guides me to my summit. I feel his fingers on both sides of my labia, rubbing firmly, forcing my inner lips to caress my clitoris, and I am coming again, harder than before.
My Master gives no quarter as he reams my anal canal, forcing the orgasm from me, taking it. I am reduced to a quivering mass as I come, so savagely assfucked, so expertly fingered. I cannot speak, yet, in this moment, I long to tell my Master that I love him, that I am thankful to him. Shaken so hard by my second orgasm in almost as many minutes, I rock back, hitting my head against the ungiving oak. The pain cannot deter me in my ecstatic release.
My body shakes as I feel the fluid warmth of my Master's cum as it shoots up inside me, flooding my bowels with his sperm. Even in my sexual stupor, I manage to squeeze and relax my rectal muscles around him, milking his seed as he fills me. My canal loosens with the lubricating effect his expelled semen enacts upon my most private, intimate place.
This is how my Master owns me. This is why I give myself to him. This is why I love him. This is also the moment I no longer need him.
I am alone. I tug at the knot binding my wrists behind the tree and untie myself. Struggling to my feet, I stand on my wobbly legs, naked in the woods under the fading sunlight.
I remove my blindfold and see no one. There is no one there. There is only me.
I am alone, and I am good.
Nanette
- 23.12.2022
- 58
- 0
- Category:
- BDSM
