Epilogue
Grace
Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I try to find a more comfortable position, but there doesn’t seem to be one.
My hands, attached to an overhanging branch above my head, are sore from supporting my weight.
My legs cramp as I balance on my tiptoes, and my poor nipples scream any time I move, the nasty clamps tugging on a long rope tied to a tree in front of me.
If I stay very, very still, my nipples don’t hurt as much, but that’s grown increasingly difficult the longer I stand here, not to mention the jolts I occasionally get from the plug in my ass.
Every time it shocks me, I flinch, making the clamps tug on my nipples and only forcing me to flinch harder.
I’d scream in frustration, but there’s a gag in my mouth and no one around to hear me anyway.
Well, no one except my Master, and he’s unlikely to help since he’s the one who tied me here in the middle of the woods and then left to do god knows what.
I think he’s nearby, as I sometimes hear a branch crack somewhere behind me.
Or it might be something crawling closer, ready to eat me.
I love our new house, but we’re literally in the middle of nowhere with nothing but forest surrounding us for miles.
It’s very private, allowing us to have sex outside whenever and however we want and be as loud as we like, but it also means frequent animal visitors.
Deer are cute, bears less so. I don’t think it’s a bear, though.
Mikhail likes to hurt me in all kinds of creative ways, but letting a wild animal maul me would be a step too far even for my devious Master.
As if on cue, his deep voice rumbles, “What have we here?”
I try to turn my head to look at him, momentarily forgetting about the blasted nipple clamps, and am rewarded with stinging pain in my tits as the ropes tethering the clamps to the tree pull taut. I do glimpse something green in Mikhail’s hand, though. Leaves?
“A naked woman alone in the woods,” he murmurs as he approaches me from behind. “All strung up and ready to be taken advantage of.”
When I feel his hand sliding down my side, I whimper behind my gag.
I have a feeling my already precarious situation is about to get worse.
Mikhail lightly swats my ass, then moves to the front.
I’m so wet my juices coat my inner thighs, and his fingers slide easily between my pussy lips and delve inside.
My moan cuts off with another whimper because, of course, I forget to keep still when he starts rubbing my G-spot.
I try, I really do, but as he expertly pushes me toward an orgasm, I sway against him, a muffled cry breaking free as the motion sends more pain into my tormented nipples.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. It seems you’re having trouble staying still, Doll,” Mikhail admonishes playfully. “And here I thought you’d learned to obey orders.”
I glare at him because it’s really damn difficult. Instead of taking offense, he chuckles softly. “Still feisty, I see. I brought you something.”
My glare softens into a frown, but I watch him cautiously. I don’t think I’m going to like this “something” he brought for me.
Reading my expression like an open book, Mikhail laughs.
“It’s very romantic, actually. Look, I brought you flowers!
” A vividly green cluster appears in my vision, the hand holding it encased in a rubber glove.
My brain is a little slow to make the connection with the familiar shape of the plants he’s holding, but when it does, I shriek and shake my head.
“Aww.” Mikhail’s grin is downright evil now. “You don’t like my gift?”
I shake my head again, screaming through my gag and trying to squirm out of his reach, which, of course, is impossible.
“So ungrateful,” Mikhail sighs, but he doesn’t lose his smile. Carefully setting the plants on the ground, he picks up one and pretends to study it. “I tried it on myself. It’s very potent.”
I bet it is, but I don’t want to test it on my skin. Nettles. Jesus Christ. What kind of sick mind thinks of nettles when they have a naked woman to fuck? “Please don’t,” I try to say, but it comes out garbled.
“Something to say?” Mikhail teases as he unclasps my gag. “I want to hear you scream for me, Doll.”
“Pleasepleaseplease,” I chant, still trying to move away from the nettle even though it puts unbearable strain on my nipples.
“It’s good to hear you so excited. Don’t worry. From what I’ve read, it’s not extremely painful.” When he runs the nettle over my stomach, I immediately beg to differ. The sting is pretty damn painful.
“The fun thing about nettles, though,” Mikhail continues, “is that the sensation lasts for hours.” With a gleeful grin, he smacks me with the plant as if it were a whip.
I cry out, my skin burning where the nettle touched it.
It feels like being whipped, but the pain doesn’t fade.
Another shriek tears from my throat as the nettle strikes the underside of my breast. I flinch back, shrieking again as the nipple clamp jerks me to a stop.
“Yes,” Mikhail says, “scream for me, Doll.”
Tears stream down my face uncontrollably as he whips my tits and ass with the nettles, grabbing a fresh one each time the one he’s holding stops stinging as badly. Soon, my body feels like it’s on fire, the burn lingering and even growing worse as a bright pink rash blooms across my skin.
“Now,” Mikhail says as he drops the nettle, “let’s take it up a notch, shall we?”
“Please,” I whimper, having a vague idea of what he has in mind and not liking at all.
Smiling, he cups my cheek and wipes the tears with his thumb.
“You’re so beautiful when you cry for me.
You’re being such a good Doll for me. We’ll get rid of these for now,” he says, and then sharp pain flashes through my abused nipples as he takes off the clamps.
He makes the pain worse by twisting the sensitive peaks, chuckling at my whimper.
At least I can stop straining on my tiptoes now that it no longer feels like my nipples will tear if I lower myself.
The twigs and gravel dig into my soles as I put my weight on them, but I welcome the sensation, and my cramping thighs and calves seem to as well.
I’m given only a few seconds to bask in my relief, though. Then Mikhail grabs my knee and holds my leg up, baring my pussy to him. He’s holding a fresh nettle, and I know exactly what he’s about to do.
“NO!” I shriek, but it only spurs him on. The howl I let out when the stinging plant lands on my pussy startles birds from the nearby trees, or perhaps the entire damned forest. They might have even heard it in the town a dozen miles down the hill.
The pain is sharp and immediate, and it goes on and on.
I’m used to canes and whips and other spanking implements, so I keep expecting the sting to dissipate, but it never does.
It just keeps burning. I scream at the top of my lungs as Mikhail continues hitting my pussy and the inside of my thighs.
Struggling with the rope binding my wrists, I squirm and writhe in Master’s grip as I try to protect the most sensitive parts of my body.
Too focused on my burning pussy, I barely notice the plug occasionally delivering a sharp shock to my ass.
I kick and fight, but Mikhail is too strong.
He seems amused by my pathetic attempts to fight him off rather than angry with me for not submissively accepting the torment.
Then he lets go of my leg. Thinking I’ve finally managed to dislodge his grip, I quickly put my legs together, locking my knees to make it harder for him to pry them apart.
His booming laughter makes me realize my mistake, but by then, it’s too late.
The nettle I’ve unintentionally trapped between my thighs is pulled forward and up, sliding deep between my pussy lips and right over my clit.
The pain is so sharp I don’t even scream, only freeze in place, my brain too overwhelmed to react.
I might even black out for a moment. Then my legs are spread again, but instead of a stinging nettle, there’s a cock at my entrance, thrusting into me in one smooth stroke.
As Mikhail’s pubic bone rubs against my burning clit, orgasm crashes through me, blinding in its intensity.
I definitely black out at that point, because when I open my eyes again, I’m in Mikhail’s arms, being carried home.
Another slow blink, and my exhausted body is laid on the bed.
There’s a lick at the sole of my foot and a growled, “Leave it, Knox. Crate.”
A smile tugs at my lips. Even though Knox is still a puppy, Mikhail has him well trained and obeying every command. I guess being a professional sex slave trainer translates well to dog training, except he’s much nicer to the dog. No shocks or spanking for Knox, just treats and belly rubs.
Fresh tears spring to my eyes as Mikhail rubs my irritated skin and the burn, which has just started to ease, flares back to life.
“Interesting,” he muses, sliding his hands down my stomach and between my legs.
Utterly exhausted, I have no strength to struggle, so I lie there and accept the pain he gives me.
“You were so good for me. Such a good Doll. You’re perfect, Grace. Simply perfect.” The soft words and the bone-deep tiredness lull me to sleep despite the persistent burn of my skin. Or perhaps I simply pass out.
When I wake up, it’s already getting dark.
The floor-to-ceiling windows of our house show a beautiful view of the forest and a glimpse of the sky, playing with color as the sun sets.
The open-floor living space is empty, but I hear Mikhail’s voice outside, so I force myself to get up and go to the bathroom.
I could use a shower and my hair definitely needs brushing, but I’m not allowed to do either on my own, so I just take care of the most pressing needs and venture outside.
At first, it felt strange to be outside fully naked, but I’ve gotten used to it.
I’m even grateful to be naked now, since clothes would chafe my skin and aggravate the nettle burns again.
I still feel them, like a lingering burn and an almost unbearable itch, but I know better than to scratch.
I’d likely end up spanked and tied up in another uncomfortable position if I broke the skin.
Mikhail looks up from playing with Knox, a tug rope hanging from one hand.
His smile when he notices me is devastating, completely transforming his face.
He can be cruel, yes, but he’s also the kindest, most caring person I’ve ever met.
Knox bounds over and drops a soggy ball at my feet, his tail wagging as he waits for me to throw it.
Unable to resist his puppy-dog eyes, I carefully pick up the rather disgusting toy and throw it as far as I can.
It disappears in the underbrush, and Knox darts after it.
“Feeling alright?” Mikhail asks, leaning closer to kiss me.
“Everything itches,” I grumble.
He chuckles. “Good. I loved the way you screamed with the nettle on your clit. We’re definitely doing that again.”
How can I say no when he’s this excited? Not to mention that I left the ability to say no behind long ago. “Yes, Master,” I reply dutifully, shooting him a smile. “Can I get a shower, please?”
“Of course. I will also wash your hair tonight, I think,” he murmurs as he fingers a strand of my hair. I don’t reply because it wasn’t a question, and he definitely isn’t interested in my input.
He’s the one who bathes me, washes, blow-dries, and styles my hair, does my makeup, feeds me, and, on occasion, dresses me.
He bought all kinds of outfits for me and sometimes dresses me up, positions me somewhere, and then watches me, or softly touches my skin and hair, as if admiring a delicate statue.
It’s like playing tea party with his favorite doll, except the doll is alive and he usually hurts and fucks her afterward.
I'm living a life where I don’t have to decide anything, and I have an amazing person dedicated to fulfilling my every need without me even having to voice it. What is there to complain about?
“My friend might come for a visit,” Mikhail says as he throws the ball for Knox. “I really need a cover job for this tattoo,” he says, tapping on the Cyrillic on his forearm, “and I haven’t seen him in a while. He’ll probably bring his pet along, too.”
“Oh, that’s great! Does he have a dog? Knox could use someone to play with.”
Mikhail snorts. “No, not a dog. Though a collar and a leash will definitely be involved.”
A lightbulb goes on in my head. “Oh. Oh! That kind of pet.”
“Yes, Doll, that kind of pet. Hmm, perhaps I should get you a collar, too. Or have it tattooed on your neck.”
I shudder as I imagine a needle digging into the skin on my neck, but the thought of wearing a collar isn’t off-putting. In the end, it won’t be my decision, and I’m very much okay with that. After all, that’s what I have my Master for.
“Whatever you wish, Master,” I whisper and thread my fingers through Mikhail’s hair to pull him in for a kiss. We both chuckle when a slobber-soaked ball lands on our feet, and I realize I’ve never felt happier. “I love you, Mikhail.”
“I love you too, Grace, my beautiful little Doll. Forever.”
“Forever.”
THE END