By Louetta

Staked out on the ground



It had been a long time since I was first stripped naked in the
sun but lying there now I had a profound sense that nothing much
had changed inside me in all that time. The little girl inside me
was still there.

I had changed physically, outwardly. The girl had grown some for
sure but there were still unmistakable traces of the slim brown
body I had grown up with. The slenderness and glow of my bare
legs, the taut white behind, the indrawn abdomen, the still
narrow not quite flat chest, the pink mouth, the russet curls on
my head, the sleek little fox hairs on the plump little hillock
above my cunt.

But lying there bound and helpless I was still young and innocent
and suddenly scared as the day I was first strung up by my
wrists. I felt the fear well up in my stomach, wondering what
they were going to do to me, helpless to stop them. I lay there
alone, offered to whatever awaited me, my brown skin luminescent
against the grass burnt brown by the sun. The little girl still
lay there small, trembling, frightened, not really comprehending
what was to be done to her. That girl still existed and waited
there naked and alone.

Slowly they began to tie my wrists to the stakes in the ground.
This part I reveled in. I had always known there was something
about being tied up and tickled or being pinned down wrestling
that was special to me. The warm wet feelings that infused my
body. I didn't understand what it was until a few years later.
But I knew that it felt good. Whipping was the most glorious
thing for me but mostly I had to settle for being tied down and
tickled or having ice cubes used on me.

Finally I had boyfriends who liked to tie me up and have their
way with me. I'll never forget the first time I was tied to a bed
and fucked until I screamed for mercy. Eventually I would ask
them to do other things to me, all the things that had been done
to me before except now I was in control. All this came back to
me as I felt the wetness of the rawhide, the hardness of it
against my skin as they wrapped it around my wrists, the bite of
it against my skin as they knotted it tight.

Now there was no return. I shivered somewhere deep inside, terror
began to grip me, my mouth was dry as sand. Sweat glistened on my
bare skin. They continued to tie me. Now the rawhide bit into my
wrists as they wrapped it around me and pulled it tight. Then my
ankles. I feel the rawhide go taut and I feel the first glint of
the pain that will haunt me for the next hours.

Then slowly, inch by naked inch, they start to torture me.

louetta_keene@yahoo.com



  
A Short Take - Bound On the Ground