Page 24

24

KIRA

T he cool silicone feels alien in my trembling fingers. The plug isn’t large—Ryker must have chosen it specifically for a beginner—but my inexperience makes it seem intimidating. My breath catches as I kneel on the forest floor, the scattered leaves crunching beneath me.

“You can do this,” I whisper, knowing he’s out there somewhere. The thought sends a fresh wave of heat between my thighs.

I’ve never put anything there before. The idea always intrigued me but remained firmly in fantasy territory, which I’d only admitted in level three when Ryker forced my darkest desires into the open. Now fantasy becomes reality as I apply the lubricant he provided, the slickness coating my fingers.

My body tenses at first contact, the cool gel against such intimate territory making me gasp. I close my eyes, trying to relax as I press the tip of the plug against my entrance. The pressure builds, unfamiliar yet thrilling.

“Oh god,” I breathe, feeling my body resist, then gradually yield to the intrusion.

The stretch burns slightly, but underneath that is a fullness that sends unexpected sparks of pleasure through my core. I push further, my thighs quivering with effort and arousal.

When the widest part slips past the tight ring of muscle, I cry out—a sound that’s half pain, half shocking pleasure. My body accepts the rest easily, the base coming to rest against my skin.

“Ryker,” I moan, louder than intended. It echoes through the trees.

Somewhere out there, I know he’s witnessing my obedience. The knowledge should horrify me, but instead sends a rush of wetness between my legs. I want to be good for him. Want to please him.

The plug shifts inside me as I straighten, sending jolts of unfamiliar pleasure up my spine. I’ve never felt so aware of my body, so completely consumed by sensation. Standing naked in the forest, filled and exposed, I’ve never been so vulnerable—or so aroused.

I stand shakily, adjusting to the foreign fullness inside me. Every tiny movement sends jolts of sensation through my body, making my breath catch. I’ve never felt anything like this—constant awareness and persistent pressure.

“Five hundred yards,” I whisper, remembering Ryker’s instructions.

I take a tentative step forward. The plug shifts slightly, causing me to gasp. Another step. Another ripple of pleasure-pain. Walking becomes an exercise in concentrated arousal—each footfall creates new sensations radiating outward from my core.

The uneven forest floor makes my journey a torturous series of unexpected movements. Roots force me to step higher, dips make me clench around the intrusion. My thighs grow slick with my own arousal as I move deeper into the woods.

“Fuck,” I hiss, stumbling over a fallen branch. The jolt makes the plug press deeper inside me, hitting a spot that sends stars across my vision.

I’m counting steps in my head—approximating distance—when I spot the marked tree Ryker described. Against its trunk rests a small waterproof bag, bright blue against the bark.

My fingers tremble as I retrieve it. I find an envelope and two silver clamps connected by a delicate chain. My nipples tighten involuntarily at the sight, already anticipating what the note will demand.

I unfold the paper, Ryker’s handwriting filling the page:

Mischief,

Your body’s honesty pleases me. Now show me more. Place these clamps on your nipples. Adjust the tension to the point of pain, then back off slightly. Wear them as you continue following the markers.

Don’t disappoint me.

-R

Heat floods my face as I examine the clamps. They’re adjustable—small screws allow for precise adjustment of the pressure. I’ve never used anything like this before, but my body responds instantly, nipples hardening to tight peaks despite my nervousness.

I take a deep breath, the plug shifting inside me as my muscles tense.

I take the first clamp between my fingers, the metal cool against my flushed skin. With a shaky breath, I bring it to my left nipple, already hard from anticipation and the forest air. As I close it, pain shoots through me—sharp and immediate.

“Oh god!” I gasp, instinctively reaching to remove it.

But I stop myself. Ryker’s words echo in my mind.

Adjust the tension to the point of pain, then back off slightly.

I twist the small screw, easing the pressure until the initial shock transforms into a throbbing ache that somehow sends pulses of pleasure straight between my legs. The sensation mingles with the fullness of the plug, creating a symphony of conflicting signals that leave me dizzy.

My fingers tremble as I attach the second clamp, a whimper escaping my lips as it bites down. I adjust this one too, finding that edge between pain and pleasure.

The chain hanging between my breasts swings gently as I straighten, sending little tugs through my sensitive nipples. Each tiny pull triggers a cascade of sensations that travel directly to my core.

“Fuck,” I whisper, surprised by how intensely my body responds.

I follow the markers deeper into the forest, each step a lesson in newfound sensations. The plug shifts inside me, the clamps tug with every movement, and I realize with shock that the pain itself is turning me on. The discomfort transforms into pleasure that makes my thighs slick and my breath short.

The distance seems endless, far longer than before. Seven hundred and fifty yards feels like miles as I navigate the uneven terrain, each jolt and stumble sending the chain swinging, tugging on my clamped nipples. The pain blurs into pleasure until I can’t distinguish between them anymore.

By the time I spot the next marker, I’m panting, legs trembling not from exertion but from sustained arousal. A small waterproof case sits nestled at the base of a tree. My hands shake as I open it, revealing a sleek, curved device unlike anything I’ve owned. It’s clearly designed to sit inside me, with one end curved to hit my g-spot and an external arm positioned to press against my clit. There’s a small card beside it.

Remote-controlled. I’m watching.

I stare at the curved device in my palm, its sleek, intimidating silicone surface. My breath quickens as I realize what Ryker expects me to do. The forest seems to hold its breath around me as I hesitantly position the toy against my entrance.

“God,” I whisper, sliding it inside.

The curved end finds my g-spot immediately, like it was designed specifically for my body. The external arm settles against my already swollen clit. The fullness of the anal plug combined with this new intrusion makes me gasp—I’ve never been so thoroughly filled.

For a moment, nothing happens. I adjust my stance, feeling vulnerable yet strangely powerful standing naked in the forest, adorned with Ryker’s devices. I wonder if he can see?—

The toy roars to life without warning, and vibrations tear through me at what I assume is maximum intensity.

“FUCK!” I scream, my knees buckling instantly.

The vibrations target my g-spot with merciless precision while the external arm buzzes against my clit. Combined with the plug still nestled in my ass, the sensation is too much—overwhelming, boundary-shattering.

The orgasm hits like lightning—no build-up, no warning—just pure, blinding pleasure erupting through my core. My legs give out completely, and I collapse onto the forest floor, fallen leaves cushioning my descent as my body shakes with pleasure.

“RYKER!” His name tears from my throat, a sound I barely recognize as my voice.

My back arches off the ground, thighs trembling violently as wave after wave crashes through me. I’ve never felt anything like this—pleasure so intense it borders on pain, obliterating thought and reason. My fingernails dig into the earth beneath me, searching for an anchor as I shatter.

My entire body shakes, muscles spasming as the vibrations continue relentlessly. Tears stream down my face—not from sadness but from the sheer overwhelming intensity of what my body is experiencing.

Through tear-blurred eyes, I scan the treeline.

The vibrator slows to a low, persistent hum, keeping me on the edge without allowing me to fall over. My legs shake as I force myself to stand, my whole body hypersensitive after that explosive orgasm. Every nerve ending screams for more.

“Please,” I whimper into the forest, knowing he can hear me. “I need you.”

But Ryker doesn’t appear. Instead, the toy inside me pulses once, twice—a reminder to continue following his instructions. I scan the trees until I spot a flash of red fabric tied around a distant trunk. My next destination.

Each step is torture—the plug shifting inside me, the clamps tugging at my nipples, the vibrator humming relentlessly against my most sensitive spots. I’m desperate for him to fill me, to replace these toys with himself. My body aches for the weight of him.

“Ryker,” I call out, my voice breaking. “Please.”

There was no response except the vibrator’s intensity increasing briefly before dropping back to its maddening low setting. This is a warning.

When I reach the marked tree, I find another waterproof package. My fingers tremble as I open it, revealing a small bottle and another note. The handwriting is less neat than before, the edges of letters jagged with urgency.

Mischief,

Get on your knees. Pour this over your breasts and face. Rub it in while saying these words:

“I am yours to mark, use, and fill. Every hole belongs to you.”

Say it out loud until I believe you.

-R

My cheeks burn hot with humiliation and arousal. The bottle contains a thick, white substance—cum. I drop to my knees, the forest floor rough against my skin.

I pour it over my breasts, gasping as it drips cold over my clamped nipples and down my stomach. I smear it across my skin, up to my face as instructed, coating my lips and cheeks in the sticky substance.

“I’m yours to mark,” I begin, voice shaking. “Yours to use, yours to fill. Every hole belongs to you.”

I repeat the words, each repetition stronger than the last, shame and desire tangling inside me until I can’t distinguish between them.

“I am yours to mark, yours to use, yours to?—”

Footsteps crash through the underbrush. Before I can react, strong hands grab me, yanking me up against a hard chest. Ryker’s mouth crashes down on mine, kissing me frantically, desperately, tasting the substance on my lips.

Ryker breaks our kiss, his eyes wild with a hunger I’ve never seen before. My body, still humming from the vibrator within me, responds instantly to his touch.

“My pretty little slut,” he growls, ripping the vibrator from inside me. I cry out at the sudden emptiness. “Look at you, covered in my cum, begging for more like the filthy whore you are.”

His words should offend me, but they send lightning through my veins instead. He shoves me against the nearest tree, bark scraping my back as he yanks my legs around his waist.

“You followed every instruction,” he praises, voice softening momentarily before he yanks the chain connecting my nipple clamps. I scream as pain shoots through me, somehow intensifying the pleasure pooling between my legs. “Such a good girl for me.”

The sound of his zipper is the only warning I get before he thrusts inside me with brutal force. The plug still fills my ass, creating an overwhelming fullness that tears a sob from my throat.

"Fuck! Ryker, please!"

“Please what?” He pounds into me, each thrust jarring the plug, sending dual sensations of pleasure spiraling through me. “Please stop? Please more? Tell me what my dirty little angel needs.”

“More! God, more!”

His hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat. “You’re fucking exquisite,” he growls against my skin. “Built for me. Made to take my cock.”

Each thrust feels like he’s claiming territory inside me, mapping and marking every inch. The dual penetration makes me dizzy with an overwhelming sensation.

“Your cunt feels like heaven,” he groans. “So tight, so wet for me.”

“Fuck,” I gasp as the next thrust makes my vision blur. “It’s yours,” I breathe.

Ryker groans. “Tell me that again,” he demands.

“I’m yours! All yours!”

His pace becomes punishing. “That’s right. My perfect little whore. My beautiful dirty girl. Taking everything I give you.”

His hands grip my hips with bruising force as he slams into me against the tree. The bark scrapes my back raw, but I barely notice through the haze of pleasure and pain swirling together like a storm inside me.

Ryker’s mouth descends to my neck, and I feel his teeth sink into my flesh—not gently, not playfully, but with the desperate hunger of a man possessed.

“Fuck!” I cry out as he bites down harder, sucking my skin between his teeth.

“Mine,” he growls against my throat, moving to another spot—my shoulder, my collarbone, the sensitive juncture where neck meets shoulder.

Each bite sends shockwaves straight to my core, pain transforming into pleasure so intense I can barely breathe. He’s marking me everywhere, leaving evidence of his possession across my skin like a map.

“Everyone will see,” he pants between bites. “Everyone will know who you belong to.”

His thrusts become erratic, powerful. The plug shifts with every impact, creating a fullness that’s almost too much to bear. The dual sensation pushes me higher, my orgasm building like a tsunami.

“I’m going to—oh god—Ryker, I’m?—”

“Come,” he commands against my ear, biting down on my lobe. “Come on my cock like the little slut you are.”

My pussy clamps down around him, walls clenching and spasming as pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever known tears through me. I scream his name, my voice echoing through the trees as my vision blurs and everything I am shatters for a moment.

Before I can recover, he pulls out and forces me onto my hands and knees. My palms press into fallen leaves and soft earth as he positions himself behind me.

“Beautiful,” he growls, spreading my cheeks to examine the plug still nestled inside me. He taps it lightly, sending jolts through my oversensitive body.

“Please,” I whimper, unsure what I’m begging for.

He slams back into me, harder than before, his angle deeper from this position. One hand grips my hip while the other plays with the plug’s base, rotating it slightly, pushing it deeper, then pulling it almost out before letting it slide back in.

“Look at you taking both,” he says, voice filled with dark wonder. “Such a greedy little slut.”

The double penetration sends shock waves through my system. I’m overwhelmed, my mind splintering as sensation bombards me from every direction. Ryker’s cock pounds relentlessly into my pussy while the plug fills my ass, creating a fullness that steals my breath.

“Oh god—fuck—I can’t—” My words dissolve into incoherent sounds as another orgasm crashes through me, more intense than the last. My arms give out and my face presses into the forest floor, ass still raised, completely at his mercy.

“That’s it. Give me another,” Ryker growls, fingers digging into my hips. “I’m going to fuck so many orgasms out of this tight little cunt.”

He reaches around, finding my clit with unerring precision. The moment his fingers make contact, I’m coming again, walls clenching violently around him.

“RYKER!” I scream, tears streaming down my face from the intensity. “I can’t take any more—please?—”

“You’ll take what I give you,” he snarls, slapping my ass hard enough to leave a handprint. “Your body belongs to me now. Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Each word punctuated with a brutal thrust has me spiraling into yet another climax. I’m delirious, drowning in sensation, unable to tell where one orgasm ends and another begins.

“I’m going to fill this tight cunt,” he growls, pace becoming erratic. “Going to breed you deep. Make you take every drop.”

“Yes—please—fill me,” I sob, barely conscious of what I’m saying anymore.

“Whose pussy is this?” he demands, grinding deep.

“Yours! Yours!”

“That’s right,” he groans. “Taking my cum like you were made for it. No protection. Nothing between us.”

His rhythm falters as he drives impossibly deeper. “Fuck—taking it all?—”

I feel the hot pulse of him emptying inside me, flooding me with warmth as he groans my name. The sensation triggers one final, shattering orgasm that breaks a fundamental part of me.

I collapse entirely, boneless and spent, consciousness flickering at the edges. I’m vaguely aware of him withdrawing, of gentle hands turning me over, of being lifted against a solid chest.

“My good girl,” Ryker murmurs, cradling me as my eyelids grow impossibly heavy. “Rest now. You’ve earned it.”

His heartbeat thuds steadily beneath my ear, a rhythm that shouldn’t comfort me but somehow does. What the hell is happening to me?

Two weeks ago, I was a normal woman obsessed with video games and TikTok, and now I’m naked in a forest, covered in marks and fluids, cradled in the arms of my kidnapper. And the worst part? I don’t want him to let go.

The way his arms envelop me completely, like he’s built a fortress around my body, makes me feel safer than I’ve ever felt—which is absolutely fucking insane considering he’s the danger. He’s the one who took me, who’s holding me captive, who’s systematically breaking down every wall I’ve built.

Yet here I am, nuzzling closer, craving the heat of his skin against mine, the possessive way his hand splays across my back. I should be fighting, screaming, running. Instead, I’m melting into him, memorizing the scent of his skin, the texture of the scar that runs along his collarbone, the way his breath hitches when I press my lips against his chest.

This isn’t Stockholm Syndrome—it’s deeper, like he’s awakened a darkness that was always inside me, waiting. And that terrifies me more than the restraints, the pain, or even the pleasure. Because if this was always inside me, what does that make me?