Excerpt Tales of Torment

Forest Bound

Laurie Mann

Life was looking better. The last delivery and the mandatory phone call back to base to confirm that all deliveries were done and for the re-load address, meant a drive deep into the Black Forest. I knew from experience it would be an easy load with good overnight parking and superb restaurants. Add to that, the fine weather, picturesque scenery and the job was looking good. Except for the fly in the ointment. There always is isn't there? This particular fly was called Becky, and I was getting sick of her. So much so I was planning to resolve the problem.

I climbed into the cab. There was the fly, sitting on the passenger seat. Becky, five feet six inches of the most delectable woman imaginable. Late twenties, film star looks with long chestnut hair, intelligent, high powered job and, in theory, mine. For this trip anyway.

So what's the problem?

She'd got bored. I knew she would, I'd told her so, but she wouldn't have it. She'd kept on until, with the onset of summer and her skimpy dresses revealing the full beauty of her delicious body, I'd relented and there she was, bored to death, with me not able to resist telling her "I told you so," which did nothing to ease the tension.

The first day had been motorway through banal countryside, the second day mainly motorway with the occasional foray into town to find the delivery address. Her enthusiasm, rekindled at the prospect of seeing somewhere of interest, dispelled as all she saw was another industrial estate and more motorway. She wanted to stop, I had to keep going. She was on holiday, I had a boss to keep happy. She lost every time. She'd become niggly, whinging, made it clear the nookie I'd been hoping for and she'd hinted at was now very definitely off the menu. Lorry cabs just aren't big enough to have a falling out session so I ignored her moods, which made her worse.

Things looked up, though, as we left the motorway by the Swiss border and headed north into the Black Forest. The scenery was spectacular and the villages we passed through added interest. She began to mellow and my thoughts drifted to some of the innuendo and banter of the previous days. More than once bondage had featured and the more I looked at her the more I thought how good she'd look tightly bound. As the image grew stronger I decided to bring up the topic again, choosing a particularly picturesque and well wooded stretch of road to do so.

"The trees are beautiful," I ventured, "only need a pretty girl and some rope to make them perfect."

"Huh, only in your dreams, and even then I doubt you'd have the nerve to do it." Her tone suggested the gauntlet was being tossed in my direction.

I mused over the implications and finally decided to call her bluff at the first available opportunity. It came when a 'Rastplatz' sign indicated a parking place and I swung into it.

"Time for a coffee and stretch the legs," I announced while digging the kettle out of the cupboard.

"Don't fancy coffee." She shot me a glance that implied more than stretching the legs. Or was that my imagination?

It was now or never time. I jumped from the lorry and, by the time she had climbed out and come round to find me, I had retrieved the sack of ropes from the tool box, taking care to get the smaller ones, more like clothesline rather than the more inflexible hemp ones. I left the sack open for her to see its contents while I locked the doors. She just stood there, looking disbelieving but making no attempt to move. I picked it up and looked her straight in the eye, leaving her in no doubt as to my intentions. Still she didn't move so I took it the gauntlet was not about to be retrieved.

"Right then." I slipped my arm around her waist and with one easy movement lifted her clear of the ground and walked into the woods. That got a reaction. She started kicking, punching and shouting but I got the distinct impression she wasn't really trying, so I carried on, ignoring her protest.

I kept going deeper amongst the trees, away from the beaten track until I found a suitable tree. I checked around and, satisfied it was secluded enough, leaned her against it, pinning her there with my weight. I pushed her wrists behind her, wrapping them around the tree, her lack of resistance confirming her consent. I let her hands go free while I found a suitable length of rope, and as she made no effort to move them, I had no second thoughts about going too far and quickly had them tightly secured.

Now, able to take my time, off came her skimpy blouse, to be left hanging loose over her wrists, revealing the most gorgeous, firm, rounded breasts with large fawn coloured areola encircling the most exquisite lozenge shaped nipples imaginable. Her cut down jeans and panties followed, easily slipping down her long shapely legs, leaving her wearing nothing except a bikini's lily white outline contrasting the lovely soft brown of a light suntan, highlighting her breasts and pubis.

Her legs were soon tightly spread and secured to adjoining trees. She was still protesting, admittedly half heartedly, but nevertheless it was becoming tedious so I scanned the area looking for a suitable gag. I soon found a stick which had a large knot at its centre with two straight bits about six inches long and one inch diameter forming a shallow 'V' shape. Ideal, I thought, and pushed the knot into her mouth, forcing her jaws wide apart. A length of rope passed round the tree, looped round the stick alongside her cheeks, back round the tree and then repeated a couple of times not only silenced her protests but looked good as well. An added bonus was that she was now totally unable to move her head.

I found more rope and this time wound it around her elbows, cinching it tight, and then around the tree, knotting it tightly, trapping her elbows hard against the rough bark. More rope passed round the tree, under her arms, over her shoulders and pulled tight to her elbows forcing her shoulders back, forming them around the trunk, lifting, stretching her breasts, enhancing their firmness and making her push her hips forward to ease the strain. I tied a long length of some slightly thicker rope to her left wrist and then wound it tightly around her waist, just below her ribs, pulling her back to the tree, her buttocks spreading delightfully as they were squashed hard against the bark. Six times I wound it round, every turn pulled tight, digging deep into the accommodating flesh.

Determined to make the most of the opportunity, I tied the end of a rope to her left knee, passed it round the tree and tied it off at her right knee, locking her legs straight. More ropes tied to the top of her thighs pulled her hard against the bark, her skin moulding itself around the unevenness of its surface. They made no practical contribution but they looked good and well, she was in no position to complain, so it was how I wanted her looking that counted, wasn't it?

A slip knot made a noose that slipped easily over her right boob which when I pulled it tight and tied the ends off behind the tree made it stand out, swollen, hard to the touch, nipple proudly jutting. Pleased with this effect I gave her left boob the same treatment, pulling the rope so tight that it cut so deep into the flesh that it was almost hidden from sight.

I sat back, leaning against a tree, taking time to study my captive, enjoy the view. There are few better sights than a tightly bound woman, and this one looked absolutely gorgeous. I eyed her from head to toe, the gag pulling her cheeks, turning them red. The ropes around her body, digging in deep, bordered by dark red stripes fading to pink as the strain took its toll. Her breathing, shallow and fast, restricted by her bonds but excited by her situation. Her eyes, frightened, apprehensive followed mine, she looked in pain but the glistening love nectar between her legs told me that her desire was real enough.

I sat marvelling at my good fortune and the delicious sight before me, watching Becky's frustration growing, until I just had to get my fingers on her fabulous nipples. I gently caressed them, rolling them between thumb and finger, encouraged by the muffled murmurs of delight. I squeezed them hard, tugged them, nibbled at them and sucked them deep into my mouth until they were as hard as diamonds, protruding like coat pegs. Her breathing quickened as I squeezed her already swollen breasts, gently at first then hard, very hard making her gasp.

I caressed her flanks and belly, fingertips barely touching, feeling her tremble and shudder, unable to control the spasms in her muscles. I looked into her eyes, saw the need and ignored it, continuing my teasing with fingers and tongue, ever so gentle, ever so tantalising, never satisfying, just letting the frustration build and build.

I moved down to her legs, by now so sensitive, quivering under the feather light touch of fingers and tongue, tasting the saltiness of her sweat, glistening and running in rivulets down her smooth skin. I delighted in her increased, more urgent murmurs which sounded like begging but only encouraged me to take more time, prolong the end for as long as possible.

Her eyes rolled as I toyed with her engorged pussy lips, fingers merely brushing, tongue flicking and teasing her protruding clit, tasting her excitement, sending shock waves of pleasure pulsing through her already tormented body craving release.

My knob end nestling against her lips, I gently tormented her, watching with rapt attention as her eyes rolled before closing as the ropes dug deeper while she strained to drive herself onto my cock. When I did eventually plunge into her pulsating pussy, desperately eager to be filled, I pumped hard, driving her towards the inevitable orgasm, which would obviously not be far away. As she tensed, breath quickening, the initial stages of orgasm upon her I withdrew, leaving her to scream her frustration into her gag.

I looked on, teasing her with my eyes, delighting in the lustful pleading in her eyes, her cheeks further distorted as she strained against the gag, the veins in her neck, proud and pulsing, her body now quite red, muscles quivering and sending shock waves of pleasure rippling though her. Slowly the energy within began to wane, only her eyes betraying the desperate need for relief.

As the heat from my rampant rod of steel brushed her lips, feeling her juices flow and her most delicate hairs tickle, she gasped, every muscle strained against her bonds, her body like an impatient volcano waiting to erupt and her eyes full of the agonies of merciless frustration. Slowly I teased her lips with my knob, convinced that a damn good dose of frustration is more effective than a good thrashing, until I judged her incapable of withstanding anymore and rammed my full length of iron deep into the heat of her love cauldron, releasing the pent-up energy into a whirlwind of ecstatic convulsing as I pumped my balls dry.

The afternoon certainly had an effect. The fly in the ointment was gone, replaced by the most amicable passenger imaginable. In fact the effect proved to be longer lasting. I now spend every trip eagerly anticipating my return to savour the results of Becky's latest task. This trip she's getting a new bondage harness, and I can't wait to get home.

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