Hot Girls Hike Alone #3
“Is everything ok?” a woman called from the trail.
I cleared my throat and tried to sound like I wasn’t four seconds away from screaming until I couldn’t stop.
“Good, just … emergency potty,” I said. My voice was too thick, too many tears. I was ashamed of my body, of its desire for this asshole who hurt me, of its new trick that made me feel like I peed my pants. I was sickened with fear and covered in muck.
“OK,” the woman said skeptically. “Yell if you need anything.”
I turned to the man. He was gone. My wet pants were around my knees. My pussy was battered, and cold jizz formed a blob on my butt. My molars had dirt in them. I pulled my pants up and wrapped my arms around my knees and cried quietly for what felt like ages.
Crying is more exhausting than any extreme sport I’ve ever tried.
It takes something deep from you. A few minutes of crying felt like my entire life.
This was purgative. Like everything dark in me had manifested on the outside.
As if I were a windshield and I didn’t know how to swipe this filth from my vision.
I was exhausted when the tears dried, and my thighs shook from exertion when I stood.
I didn’t have any water, and my mouth was out of spit, so I did the best I could to wipe my face off, and I limped the half mile back to camp. I steered far and wide from anyone near us.
My legs gave out in sheer relief as I hit the mat we had outside of our tent. Caleb caught me the second I stepped on it. I collapsed in a heap of him, dirty and shaky and smelling of piss and fear-sweat.
I needed Caleb.
“Babe, babe, it’s ok,” he said against my head as he scooped me up. “Babe, it’s ok.”
He carried me up the hill to the family bathroom and showered me as I cried it out again. Water washed the filth from my mouth as he untangled my hair and kissed my neck. His arms around me as hot water washed the horror of it all off my body.
The washing reopened the clotting from the knife, and my new wounds bled freely.
Caleb held my face and kissed me gently as the final edge of the trauma sloughed off. I let him dress me like a doll and carry me back to camp.
“Tell me what happened,” he said quietly, gently stroking my back as I leaned into him.
I did, every moment, the helplessness of not being able to stop it, of not being able to breathe, of cumming so hard I squirted as I suffocated, the pain and humiliation of having my skin cut. I could feel him stir under me and I sighed.
“What do you need?” he asked softly.
I shook my head and looked up at him. “I just want to recover now, if that’s ok.”
He nodded, and whispered, “Then we end scene now, ok?”
I knew it was a scene. I knew we set it up. I knew somewhere on the path it was going to happen, but it was so fucking masterful I wasn’t sure until he said the words.
Part of me was convinced my Caleb wouldn’t cut me, wouldn’t make me piss my pants 30 feet from strangers while shoving my face in the dirt.
Part of me thought I’d been attacked and forced in the woods, and that I liked it which was a new level of horror. I wasn’t ready to examine that yet, but we had all night to talk it over.
I full-body shivered as he handed my air pods back.
Every clenched muscle, every scared ‘maybe’ released into pure bliss as that tactile action, that concrete proof that Caleb acted out a fantasy for me.
It brought me back, all the way, and I felt a release that was like a small brain orgasm rip in the sublime moment.
The air pods were a physical cue. They proved we planned and consented. They brought me back.
“You did so good baby,” Caleb said against my neck. “You did so fucking good.”
I sighed against him, too lost to really do more than sort of coo against him as he pet me and stroked me. Long moments later, when I was a bit more coherent, he disinfected the cuts, which really were like paper cuts. They’d heal and leave no marks.
“You were so sexy begging me,” he said. “And the way your entire body spasmed when you came…that was new. That was magic, baby.”
“You were magic,” I said softly. “I was actually scared.”
“It was hard to leave you like that,” he said. “That was the hardest part for me, to just abandon you like that.”
Caleb turned me so that I could see his face full in the now-darkness. “You know I’d never cause you pain you didn’t want, Jena, right? I’d never hurt you.”
I nodded. “I know.”
We kissed softly, and he walked me to the bathroom before we retired to bed.
No sex, just skin-contact. He draped me over his chest so my naked body could absorb his heat, his strength, his reality.
“I love you so much, babe,” I said drowsily.
“I love you more,” he whispered.
“So if that ever happened again,” I said. “I think I’d want to be mouth fucked, slapped until I had a bloody nose, and blindfolded. The dirt was terrifying and exotic, but I’d rather just have a blindfold and you choking me for breath play, the dirt was just too much.”
He laughed against my head. “You never make it easy do you?”
I shook my head, drowsy, safe, sore and content. “No baby, I never do.”