WARNING: This story contains sexually explicit material.

   It is not intended to be read by anyone under the age of 18.  This is a
work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely
coincidental.  Copyright 2007. 



   Title: Oregon

   Author: geraldine

   Story codes: MF, anal, torture, sad





	I decided that I needed a break. I had just left my boyfriend of a couple of years and needed to get away.

	For some reason I thought that going to the Oregon coast for a week with my ex’s brother and his new wife would help. Paula and Andy.

	We drove down the coast and visited the little towns: Lincoln, Tillamook, Astoria, Seaside, Newport….. We did some touristy crap, beach walks, shopping. 

	We spent three nights at a little campground close to the beach just outside of Newport. The campground was almost empty for the first night.  The second night was a Friday. Lots more cars and RVs showed up.  The campground had a few trees between sites, and had a bit of privacy but not much.  A couple of guys in a little ratty red hatchback set up camp next to us.  They had a huge bucket of crab they had just caught.  I was sitting with Paula and Andy, reading at our campsite and just sitting around, when one of the two guys came over to see if we wanted some fresh crab. Who says no to fresh crab?  I don’t. 

	These guys were in their mid-20s, and looked like they were construction workers. They smoked. I have a problem with smokers.  Somewhere in my past I started to associate the smell of smoke on a man’s breath with sex.  This is not a good thing, really.  The guys looked a little rough so my two friends decided not to join us for crab.  Paula and Andy have always been a bit uptight.  I ended up spending the evening hanging out with these two guys, drinking beer with them and sharing crab.  Back then I could drink a lot. I knew it made me loud and violent, and I knew I could put back a lot of beers before I could feel it. I never really got hangovers. I don’t drink much anymore. 

	The one guy was a bit shorter than me, stocky, good looking. A bit worn around the edges. His buddy was taller, a bit gangly and goofy. Still a good looking guy too. Two peas in a pod. Jeans, tshirts, grubby. They smelled like cigarettes, campfires.  They were about the same age as me. I was 22 at the time. This was a while ago. 

	I don’t remember their names. If you put a gun to my head I could not tell you where they were from, why they were there, what their names were. It’s ok.

	I sort of remember bits and pieces. This was a few years back, you see. Things get blurry. Some things stand out so stark white against the black. 

	I knew that somewhere deep in my soul I wanted to hurt my ex. I was the one that left but I suppose part of me wanted to punish him anyway, piss him off, make him miss me, make him think of me more.  I knew if I got loud and rowdy with these guys at the next campsite, news would get back to my ex. I don’t play those types of games anymore, but there you have it.  Plus I knew I really needed to blow off some steam. I wanted to cut loose a bit, have some fun, be irresponsible.  When things get rough and serious and heavy, sometimes you need to get a bit crazy to balance things out again.  That doesn’t mean that you don’t hate yourself later for it.  It makes me feel hollow, but so much of what I have done has made me hollow. So much of what has been done to me has made me hollow too.  Being hollow is a large part of me. 

	So here I am at this campsite, enjoying a few beers. Just the three of us there. It was dark. Probably sometime after 11pm by this time.  Most people were asleep. I know my friends were already in their tent, one of those huge walk-in things that weighs forty pounds. These two guys also had a tent, but it was a small one.  At this point I’m feeling giggly, giddy, with that indestructible feeling you get with alcohol.  I guess that’s the same for a lot of people. Alcohol makes you feel like a king. Gives you superhuman powers, makes all consequences go away. I know I was flirting, getting both of them worked up, and I was feeding off of that. It’s what I do. 

	I took more of a shine to the shorter guy. Not really sure why.  I think he seemed to be the smarter of the two, more of the leader type. A bit more of a challenge, as it were.  Not that there was any real challenge here.  He wasn’t that short, maybe 5’9”. I am six feet tall, myself.  He had broad shoulders, strong.  Just the hint of a beer belly starting.  The belly is always the weak part. That’s usually where people let themselves go first. 

	They only had two camp chairs so I think I spent a long time leaning against their car, sitting on the hood.  There was a campfire going, a small one crackling away. It was really just about the only light.  That and a bit of moonlight.  They were both smoking tons of cigarettes, and those little lights jumped around in the dark.  For the life of me I can’t remember what I was wearing.  The way I remember their eyes on me, it was probably something tight and low-cut.  Something that showed off the round hard curve of my ass.  Something that made them look at my breasts every time I moved or bent over.  I made sure I bent over a lot.  I like to see that hunger in men’s eyes.  It has nothing to do with sex.  It has everything to do with power and control.  But you already know that.  I was flirting a lot, teasing them.  

	I think the shorter one came over and stood next to me while I sat on the hood of their car.  It was really quiet in the campground.  You could only hear the fire crackling and my little giggles.  It doesn’t make any noise when I toss my hair around and play with it.  I put my arm around him and he put his hand on my leg.  I let him lean forward to kiss me.  He tasted like beer and cigarettes.  I love that. I don’t know why.  I spread my legs while I sat on the hood and he got his hips between my legs so he could move closer.  He had his hands all over me.  He was a really good kisser, even though he was pretty loaded.  I let him run his tongue all over my neck.  He had one hand under my shirt and I let him run his rough hands over my skin.  He was chewing on my neck, biting me, leaving little marks, being rough.  I love that.  He had one hand under my shirt and the other hand sort of under my ass, pulling me closer to him.  I could feel that he was really hard.  I love the feeling of an erection against me.  He had me almost lying down on the hood now, my shirt shoved up to my neck, and I wrapped my legs around his back.  He was pressed so hard against my pussy that I was going insane.  I kept pulling his head up so I could feel his lips on mine, so I could roll my tongue around in his mouth and taste him.  I wanted to own him, to take everything from him, his sweat, his cum, his breath.  

	I could sense that his friend was no longer sitting at the campfire.  He was standing next to us, watching us.  He didn’t make a move to touch me.  His eyes were locked on me.  He liked to watch.  That was fine by me.  I like being watched.  He had a beer in one hand, and already had his cock out in his other hand.  I remember giving him a huge grin.  He did not smile back or say anything; his eyes were locked on my body and how I moved, and that was all he could see. I am sure I could have bowled him over with a feather.  It was wonderful.  

	I realized that I was making all sorts of noise, moans, groans, whimpers, talking softly, talking dirty.  I sat up suddenly and said that it might be better to go inside the car before we woke up the whole campground.  It took them both a moment to understand this.  I slid off the hood and opened the car door.  I didn’t really have any other choice if I wanted this to stay private.  

	I got onto the passenger seat.  The shorter guy got into the driver’s side.  He reached across me and tilted my seat way back, so it was almost flat.  There was more room in this car than I had thought. This was good.  He got on top of me and straddled me.  I had already taken my top off.  It was getting so hot in here.  I was in only my bra and tights.  I had already kicked off whatever sandals I had on.  He had removed his tshirt.  He was leaning down on me, pressing his cock against me, his chest hair brushing against my skin, his mouth on mine.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw his friend standing just outside of my window.  

	The shorter guy kept saying how badly he wanted to fuck me.  I wanted this to last.  He took off my bra in one quick motion and had his mouth and hands on my breasts, pinching and licking my nipples.  I couldn’t stop moving my hips, grinding them against him.  His cock felt so good.  

	I remember being like that for a while, just panting and moaning and feeling him against me, feeling his lips and tongue on me, licking off my sweat and tasting me.  He was muttering something, fuck this and fuck that. He was very drunk and very hard.

	And then I don’t remember exactly what happened next.  I know I was suddenly naked, and he was naked too, and we were still in the car.  I was on my knees with my face just about jammed against the dash, facing forward.  He was behind me.  His friend was still outside my door.  I could feel a tongue licking my pussy from behind, fingers rammed deep in my pussy. I was moaning.  I told him to fuck me. 

	His huge cock was inside me immediately.  I was surprised that someone who had been drinking that much could be that hard and ready.  I did not complain.  I had to brace my arms against the dash to keep my head from going through the windshield.  He was slamming so deep and furiously into me that I couldn’t keep quiet.  I was glad the windows were rolled up tight, but I was sure anyone still awake would still hear me.  The sound echoed inside the car.  All I could hear was wet noises and my moans.  He kept demanding that I tell him how much I liked it.  I had no problem with that.  There was very little room in the car for him to maneuver.  He just kept thrusting straight into me and getting his cock so deep that I was having problems breathing.  I love that.  I was so wet with sweat and pussy juice and heat.  

	He pulled out suddenly, before he came.  I took a deep breath and tried to relax my body.  My muscles were all tense.  I was trying to get some fresh air into my lungs.  I was gasping and trying to regain my sense of balance, trying to get an idea of how my body was doing.  And then I heard him behind me, saying he was going to fuck my ass. I tried to turn around but I couldn’t.  He said it again. He said I was going to like it.  I let out a very long moan and tried to relax.  

	He was gentle at first, working his cock in with no lube.  I focused on my breathing, just trying to stay relaxed and sane.  I love the feeling of cock in my ass.  I didn’t know if he knew I had done this before.  He was still so wet from my pussy.  He finally got his cock in all the way to the hilt.  I was gasping for air, just the way I like it.  And then he started pounding me.  I mean, reaming me, hard.  Holy god he was fucking me hard.  I was trying to hold onto something, anything, trying to stay awake and in one piece and I was just clawing at the dash, the seat, the window, the door.  I felt out of control, desperate.  He was so quiet.  I could hear his steady breathing under all the noise I was making, like a machine driving me.  It was awesome.  And I could just make out, just outside the car, the other guy standing there stroking his cock.

	I wanted so badly to take that cock in my mouth and taste all the cum that I knew was coming.  The car window was closed though, and I was having enough trouble just breathing and trying to stay sort of quiet and awake.  My body wanted so badly to pass out, but I wouldn’t let that happen.  I saw him stroking his cock just inches from my face, as he stared through the window, watching me.  I was getting off so much on knowing he was right there.  

	I felt the cock in my ass get bigger, and it started to hurt. Anal is not easy on the body.  I was still just trying to hang on.  When he came inside my ass it was a huge rush of warmth, such heat and power.  My whole body went limp almost immediately.  He was holding both of my hips and didn’t let go for the longest time.  I just had my ass up in the air while my upper body was slumped over.  When he finally pulled out I felt all the cum rushing out with him, dripping all over the car seat.  I didn’t care.

	I never saw the other guy cum, which was too bad.  I know that he came though.  When I finally had enough energy to get up and get out the car, he was sitting in his camp chair, half awake, grinning at me.  He never said a word.  He didn’t have to. 

	I got cleaned up and dressed. I didn’t leave their campsite.  I was a bit tired, but I still had energy.  The shorter guy was already drinking another beer.  They both were.  I found a Coke and drank that instead.  I was sobering up a bit.  My ass hurt like hell, but in a good way.  I didn’t want to sit down.  Finally the tall guy said he was going to bed, he was tired.  He staggered a bit and got into his tent.

	Now that his buddy had passed out I decided to drag the short one out to the beach.  I had an idea.  I wasn’t really sure what it was, but I knew I wanted to take him away from the campground.  The beach was not that far away. You could hear the surf from the campground, just barely.  He was dressed now too.  He was pretty drunk still.  I don’t know how much beer either of us had packed away, but I knew at this point I was in my element.  I felt strong.  I was in total control.  I knew he was a bit off his game, tired maybe, and definitely drunk.  Sometimes it is just so easy.

	I walked him out to the beach and then up onto some soft sand, just where the long grass was growing up.  It was totally dark except for a bit of moonlight.  I couldn’t really see very well, but my eyes were adjusting quickly.  It was darker out here.  I hadn’t been here before.  No one else was around.  I couldn’t hear anything but the surf.  My hands were shaking a bit. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I was excited.  I had nothing with me except a beer and a knife.  No, I didn’t know what I was going to do with it.  That’s the fun part. 

	This guy was really horny again and pretty much out of his mind with excitement.  I can feed off of that pretty easily.  I knew he was very physically strong, but he was weak right now through the beer and blind lust.  That’s the sort of thing I wait for.  I don’t know what he expected.   

	He took off his jacket and lay it down on the sand.  He had a dull fire in his eyes. I asked him what he wanted me to do.  He said I could do what I wanted.

	I love when guys say that. 
	
	I don’t know what drives me sometimes.  Being drunk, horny, being off in a secluded place where I can do what I want, being out at night in the fresh air, being lit up by the moon.  Feeling the wind in my lungs.  Reenergized.  Being in control.  Not knowing what will happen next.  Feeling a rage of power bubbling up to the surface, and not knowing where it will lead.  The thrill of knowing I am in control of someone else, and the thrill of not knowing how much control I have over myself.  The thrill of just letting myself go and not knowing where I will end up.  Knowing that I am strong and no matter what happens, I will win. 

	I got him to get on his knees, to sit back on his knees.  He had been able to walk out here on his own, so I knew he could manage that.  I don’t know what he was expecting, but he was very excited again already.  It was cooler out here too, with the wind off the water.  I had goose bumps but I wasn’t cold.  I knelt behind him.  I pulled the neck of his tshirt to the side to better expose his neck.  His hair was short so it wasn’t blowing around in the breeze like my hair was.  I brought my mouth down on his neck and ran my tongue along his skin.  He was almost vibrating. I opened my mouth wide and brought my teeth down full force on the curve of his neck, that large hard trapezius muscle.  I bit down, hard. 

	He tried to move, to get away.  He was pretty strong. He lunged forward, getting away from me, startled, holding his neck. He turned to me, not quite sure.  He looked a bit hazy.  I said I wanted to do it again.  I knew he wanted his turn to be submissive. I could see it in his eyes.  He had already dominated me; now it was my turn to get what I wanted. 

	I got him to take off his shirt.  I told him to leave his jeans on for now.  His skin was prickly with goose bumps, like mine.  He got back on his knees in front of me.  This time I did not wait. I bit down on his neck and held there.  He was breathing really hard now, making all sorts of noises.  I knew it had to be painful.  I started to chew on his neck.  I knew even without looking that I was leaving huge red marks.  I was drawing blood.  I was eating him, feeding on him, and he wasn’t stopping me.  I could taste the blood.  It was very hot.  

	I don’t remember what I used to do it, but I remember tying his hands behind his back with something.  He was still sitting up and I was still behind him. I was so close behind him that I was twisting his shoulders back.  That had to be painful too.  He liked it.  I kept pulling down on the bindings holding his hands together, twisting his shoulders down further.  I worked my teeth along the other side of his neck.  His nipples were rock hard and he was breathing shallow and quick.  I was holding him up, propping him up so he couldn’t fall over.  If I hadn’t been there, he would have gone right over.  

	I got up onto one knee behind him.  Kneeling on one knee.  He was a stocky guy, so I knew I couldn’t lift him up all by myself but I was willing to try.  I made sure my one knee was right against the center line of his back.  I reached forward, around to his chest and worked my hands along his ribs.  He was leaning back against my knee so it was easy to finger his ribs.  I slowly hooked my fingers underneath his ribcage.  I took a deep breath, shook out my muscles, and lifted his body up and towards me in one giant motion.  

	I can’t really describe the noise he made.  He couldn’t really get a full lungful of air the way he was bent back in the first place.  I heard his back crack, and I felt his whole body flex on top of my knee.  He tried to get his legs up underneath him to take some weight.  I had centered my knee fairly well so he didn’t roll.  I held him there for a moment.  God he was heavy.  Then I dropped him back down again onto his knees and let go.  He fell over on his side, and even in the moonlight I could see there were tears running down his cheeks.  

	I propped him up again on his knees.  He did not say a word.  He was just breathing harshly and rolling his eyes around trying to look at me.  I was right behind him now and he couldn’t see me.  I forced his bindings down again with one hand to get his attention.  I got on my feet slowly, making sure he did not move.  I reached down in front of him again and found his ribs again.  I know better than to lift with my back.  I got my feet planted and bent at the knees.  My knees stuck out on either side of his torso.  I lifted again. 

	I was taller than him, and pretty strong. I got him partway up.  I don’t think he could even breathe being held like that.  His feet thrashed out desperately from under him and tried to take the weight again.  The moment he got his weight onto his own feet I pushed him forward into the sand.  He landed clumsily and didn’t move.  He was making little noises.  I could now see some of the blood on his neck under the moonlight.  It shone and glistened.

	I untied his hands.  He immediately threw them up over his head and stretched them out ahead of him.  He did not move otherwise.  I kept asking him if he liked it, if he thought he deserved it, if he wanted more, if he wanted me to stop.  I don’t remember hearing any full coherent sentences back, but he didn’t say no.  He did not look at me. His face was covered in sand.  I knelt down beside him and brushed what sand I could see off of him.  He finally opened his eyes and looked at me.  He did not look drunk, or scared, or tired.  He looked right past me, like I was not even there. He moved his lips a little, and it made me smile.  He was so loaded. I got in front of him and tied his hands together in front of him.  I rolled him around a bit so he was laid out flat and straight on his belly.  I remember taking something and tying his feet together too.  I took his tshirt and put it under his head so he wouldn’t breathe in any sand.  The wind was dying down a bit, so nothing was really blowing around.  

	I straddled his hips and bent down low over him.  I brushed my hair to one side and dragged my mouth along his right side.  I felt his whole body shiver.  I turned my head a little to get a good angle, and I bit down just under his right armpit.  Again, hard.  He moved and struggled a little, but I did not let go. When he finally stopped moving I let go, moved down a little, and bit him again.  I was drawing blood, and I could see big red welts coming up, even in the little light we had. 

	I worked my way along both of his sides, chewing and biting and locking my jaws down on him.  It was like eating a giant steak. I did not tear out any flesh, but I took in a lot of his blood.  He was moaning the whole time. I know he liked it, even though he never said a single word. 
	
When I was done, I straddled his hips so that his bare back was in front of me, and I pulled out my knife.  It was a boot knife, about five inches long.  Nice thin blade.  New.  

There was so much skin in front of me that I did not know where to start. I got positioned comfortably, shifted my knees in the sand so I felt solid.  All the skin along his neck and shoulders and sides were covered in blood and red marks.  So I started low.  I put my left hand flat on the top of his back, just below his neck.  I squeezed with my knees to hold him still, and then I touched the blade against his skin.  I dragged it along his lower back, just above where my crotch was straddling him.  He let out a little moan.  I pushed a little harder, leaving a mark.  He started to move.  I angled the blade a little and pressed down harder as I dragged it across his lower back.  He started to bleed.  I felt him move under me, squirming a bit.  I was still stronger than him, in my position and in my more sober state.  I dragged another line across his back, and watched as a thin new line of blood burst from his skin.  He started to say something, but I told him to be quiet. I said, shhhhhh.  I took my left hand off his back and stroked his hair as I told him to be quiet.  I also told him to be still.  He obeyed me fairly well at first.  

By the time I had made my fifth line across his back I was pressing down pretty hard.  I was taking my time dragging the sharp blade across his skin, and enjoying how the blood came forth.  It looked so black and wet and hot.  It was hypnotizing.  I wished he could see it too.  On the sixth line he started to move.  A lot.  And make noise.

I didn’t mean to do it, but I cuffed him across the back of the head pretty hard.  It didn’t knock him out but it did make him start to cry.  I knew damn well he was enjoying this and that crying was just part of the game.  I threatened to shove something in his mouth if he didn’t shut up quick.  He started to say something but stopped.  Smart boy.

I continued with his back.  I was getting bored with lines, so I started to draw in big loops and swirls.  I held the knife as you would hold it to butter toast, not as you would hold it to stab.  I twisted it around a bit.  I started to write things, like names.  I was having fun. The canvas was not that big, but it would do. 

After a while I realized that he was making noises again.  I had sort of got carried away and wasn’t paying attention to him too much.  He was actually screaming, not for help, and not for me to stop, but just general screams.  No words.  Just crying out in pain.  This was too much for me.  It sickened me. It gave me goose bumps. I reached forward, pulled his tshirt out from under his head, and shoved as much as I could into his mouth before he could shut it. He tried to close his mouth but I jammed my fingers in there to shove the cloth inside. His eyes were huge and wet.  I wagged my finger at him like an angry mother.  He was trying to spit out the shirt in his mouth.  I bent down low over him and got very close to his face.  I looked him in the eye and grabbed his jaw so I could force him to look at me.  There was enough light that he could see my eyes. All I said to him was, “This is mine.”  He got very still.  And he closed his eyes.

I took my time with the rest of his back.  He let out the odd noise but at least it wasn’t the screaming anymore.  Eventually I just pulled the tshirt out of his mouth so he could breathe easier. He was very limp. I drew all over his back, up his shoulders, along the sides of his neck where I had left marks already.  There was a lot of blood.  It flowed. It pooled a bit in the small of his back, and some of it ran down his sides.  I made sure very little blood got on me. 

I don’t really know how I decided that I was done.  I guess I was tired and realized I was bored.  My body felt stiff.  I knew I had been on the beach for over an hour.  I was suddenly cold and wanted to go to sleep. 

I covered him up with his jacket, tucked it under him so it would not blow away.  I made sure I untied his feet and hands. I wiped off my knife on his jacket and put it back in its sheath. I knelt next to his head.  He was breathing okay, but out cold.  His skin felt a little cool.  I put the back of my hand over his forehead.  He felt fine.  I stood up, brushed the sand off my legs, and stretched.  

	I walked back to my campsite.  I had my small tent set up next to my friend’s tent, and I slid into my little bed without waking anyone up.  I think I checked my watch just before I fell asleep, and it was 4am.  I slept really well.  I was pretty tired and spent.  I think I heard myself snoring.  I don’t normally sleep really well when I’m camping, but that night I slept like a log. 

	The next morning I woke up pretty late.  My friends were already up and reading in their little camp chairs.  Paula gave me a dirty look when I crawled out of my tent.  Later on, Andy would ask why I did what I did.  If I got off on it or needed a thrill.  He didn’t know what I had done, and it didn’t matter. No one needed to know.  I told him I didn’t know why I did it, except that it made me feel better.  He didn’t understand that at all. My motivations, my intentions.  I don’t care.  It doesn’t matter why. 

	When I bothered to look at the next campsite, I noticed it was already empty.  




		