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Into the Woods by Sarah Jahn
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
If distributed, please keep these headers and my name intact. Any
responses can be sent to [email protected]. If you want to
publish it, ask my permission first - contacting me at my account.
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"Into The Woods"
by Sarah Jahn
I glanced at the pond as I walked past, on my way to the dorm. The
rain indented its surface, whispering sibilantly. The fog rising from
the melting snow drifted purposelessly around the feet of the
streetlights.
My footsteps echoed back to me. No other students were walking
about at this time of night. It was peaceful, after having to battle
through chattering crowds every day on my way to class. From far away,
I heard the dimmest murmur. Crickets? This early in the year? I was
always amazed how fast spring appeared in New England, even though I
had seen it often enough.
The old church began to chime its bells. I counted the peals in
my head. One, two, three. Very late.
I pushed myself a little faster, towards the main road running
through the campus. At the crossing, I looked both ways. No
headlights, no sound of motors. I crossed slowly, the steam curling
from the grates swirled into empty air as I started up the hill.
The rain had made the dirt path treacherously muddy. Stepping
over a flowing stream of run-off, my boots sank into the mud. I pulled
each foot free with difficulty, careful not to overbalance.
The path wound up into the woods, coming out under a streetlight
where it was covered in cement. Here, the darkness scared me.
As I walked up, I tightened my hold on my backpack, shrugging it
up further. On one side, through a shallow growth of trees were dorms.
On the other, the woods... I looked into them cautiously. I could only
see a few feet before the dark smeared the lines of the branches.
Wet snow was clumped around the edge of the path. Beside the edge
was trash, beer cans, soda bottles, cigarette wrappers and stubs...
At the turn around the boulder marking the curve, in the dim
light of the distant street light, I saw the glint of something metal
in the water running down the hill. I bent over, reaching forward to
pick it up. It was a woman's earring. Delicate silver filigree
surrounding a stone set in the center. I looked it more closely,
trying to see what kind of stone it was. I couldn't tell. As I
inspected it, I heard an odd sucking sound behind me.
I turned to find a figure nearly beside me, pulling a foot out of
the mud. Something wrong... In the back of my mind, I realized that
whoever this was had crept up silently behind me. As I thought this,
all in a fraction of a second, I had turned and began a running leap towards
the light, filling my lungs with air to scream.
My consciousness had blanked. All I knew was that I had to run. A
few sliding steps, bending forward to keep my balance. A weight
crashed on top of me, and I fell forward, landing knocking the air
from me.
Rough hands jerked me over with a whisper. Bitch. My hand flew
out as I struck. Heart pounding, cold wetness creeping over my skin,
my breath harsh in my throat, gasping. Pain cutting through my
confusion. A silver line skimmed across my exposed throat.
My hand had pulled down the black hood of the sweatshirt he wore.
His face was set, eyes glittering with threats. His lips tightened,
drawing down, then opened.
"Move again or scream and I'll kill you."
Too cliche. Impossible. This couldn't be happening to me! I was
supposed to be in my room by now, reaching to turn on the soft light,
tossing the letters on my desk, warm... Shock, anger, fear ran through
me. Especially fear. Could I resist? The knife he held pressed closer.
I felt a warm wetness trickle achingly slow down my neck, mixing with
the chill of the mud caking in my hair. No.
"Get up. Slowly." He got off me, carefully holding the blade on
my throat. I stared at him as I rose, matching his gaze as I stood
beside him.
He was tall, bulky in a winter coat over his sweatshirt and
jeans. Dark hair, to his shoulders. A silver band on a finger of his
right hand. His coat was a dark wool army-navy trench. His face had
high cheekbones, full lips, strong features. Bastard, I thought.
"Come here."
He grabbed my arm and putting the edge of the knife near my eyes,
started to lead me into the cover of the trees. The woods...
I yanked my arm backwards, pulling my body away from him. In his
surprise, I pushed him down, hearing a gasped exclamation.
The light again. Moving faster than I ever had before, my feet
beat the ground. I was almost there, ten more steps maybe.
Explosion of pain. My hair, he had grabbed it and tangled it
around his fist as I ran. I fell as he jerked me back, slipping.
"Oh, you think you're so fast, so smart..." He drew out the "s",
hissing, pulling me back with him again. "Try it again and I'll cut
your fucking head off."
Walking. More darkness. I could smell the old leaves rotting now.
My stomach tightened. I thought I was going to throw up. I tasted bile
in the back of my throat. His hand on the back of my neck was hard,
squeezing, pushing me forward.
"Why are you doing this?" I whispered, hearing my voice tremble.
Weak. So weak.
"Shut up. I'm not going to explain to a cunt like you."
I bristled at the term, heard my voice say "Pig." The
hand tightened, and I felt the pressure of the knife again.
"I said, shut up."
He jerked me to a stop. Apparently we had reached a suitable
spot. He pushed me down. I sat down hard in the dirt, the cold seeping
easily through my wet clothes.
"Take them off." He stood over me, opening his coat.
"What?" I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Your clothes." He frowned at my inaction. "Do it," he said, his
voice dangerously lower.
I felt anger again, hot behind my eyes. How could I have been so
stupid... I cursed myself, unzipping my coat, pulling it off. The
night air was moist, chilly. The hair on my arms rose as I yanked my
shoes off, then pulled the jeans down, putting the clothes insanely in
a dry spot.
"Everything." Underwear, shirt, bra. Shivering, I hunched over
in the rotting leaves. I put my head on my arms, closing my eyes. My
ears heard the clink of a belt buckle. Whisper of it sliding through
loops. I kept my eyes closed. Why look. Zipper crackling.
Warm hands on my shoulders. I opened my eyes to look up at him.
He was someone I would look at with appreciation normally. Hair fell
slowly down over his forehead as he bent me down. How could someone
this disgusting give out warmth, I thought.
He lightly caressed my breasts. I shut my eyes again, trying to
ignore his touch. The nipples, already erect from the cold, puckered
more under his touch. My body was betraying me. Gentleness, then
suddenly, a hard twisting pinch between his fingers.
I bit my lips, arching away. I tasted blood on my tongue.
He lay on top of me, only having taken his coat off. Hands on
my knees. Pushing... No. Harder, harder, fingertips and nails digging
into the skin. I grimaced, tensing my legs. Too strong... he slid
abruptly between my legs, yanking my hands above my head, holding my
wrists in his hands.
I turned my head away. He bent his head to lie on mine, then
turned and began to kiss me. Dry lips moistened on the blood from my
mouth. The cuts stung as he licked them... God.
Pushing himself up against me, I felt a hardness sliding between
the lips, not yet inside. How could I be wet in a situation like this?
I felt disgust at myself. Tears were gathering behind my eyes,
matching the growing wetness between my legs.
Sliding rhythmically, until I felt him start to enter me. "No," I
groaned, trying to raise my hands. He pushed down harder and raised
himself above me.
There was a tremor in his cheek, stilled by his lips opening into
a smile as he opened me. Easily moving. Turning away. Sounds, not
erotic.
Cold dirt against my back, grinding in as he thrust. His
movements were... oh God no. Make it stop. A moan. From me. Even as I
cried, I pressed up into him. Felt my hands fervently grasp his. His eyes,
black, emotionless, bored into mine. Still the small smile. A whisper
to my ear.
"Oh, oh. You like it, don't you. Like it hard. Dirty slut. Oh,
yes. Yes...". Tongue hot on my cheek, then sliding between my lips.
Invading everywhere. His breath blew into my wet mouth. He still held
my hands, with every thrust, pulling them up higher. Bending to my
breast, his teeth enclosed my nipple. I felt sharp pain, tongue
sliding over the tip, then sucking. "Ahhhh," I breathed.
He sucked the welling drops off my breast eagerly, nursing off
me. The pain of his bite mixed with the pull of his lips to create a
sensation that curled into my consciousness like a snake.
His face above mine once more. His lips were a deeper color in
the light falling from the fetid moon. I watched as he licked them,
tongue skimming the skin. He had slowed his thrusts, but they were
harder now. Pause, pulling my hands, pushing into me, over and over.
The beat he established was pushing the creeping heat out from inside
me. I felt the warmth envelope my thighs and my lower belly as he
pressed in again.
"Talk to me, slut," he breathed.
"Let my hands go."
"No. Tell me how you like it." I was silent, until he brutally
slammed himself in again, making me groan.
"I... Oh. In, so full, ah, mmm... Ah! Yesss. Ohh yessss. Mnn.
Eeee. Mmmm. Jesus. Oh do it. Now. Do it. Bastard...Yes. Ah. Ah. Ah.
Ah. Ah. Ahhh. Fuck me, harder...Mmm... Fassster. AH!" I cried out,
spasming against his hold, lifting my legs around his frantic torso.
His face had tensed, his lips raised in a snarl, white teeth
shining. I watched him, entranced in the anger there. My body was
twisting up, desperate for release. I felt my head fall back, losing
control. His arms stretched my arms further, the tension matching the
rest of my muscles as it began. A shiver in my mind, burning along the
neurons, jumping to my mouth that opened and screamed. The motion was
mixed with the pain of the cut on my throat... But I didn't care. The
orgasm was blinding. Dirt, now warm, gritty on my skin. The flash of
the convulsion twisted me up like an electric shock...
He was pressing into me, his body shaking when I came down. He
dropped my hands. I felt the prickle of the blood coming back into
them, as his face lowered to press against my cheek. I felt a wetness
on my eyelid, and realized he was crying silently.
"Mina..." he whispered, raising himself up to look at me.
"Yes?" I replied, smoothing back his hair. His eyes were red,
wet.
"I'm... I can't do this anymore. Cutting you, the sex, it's not
right." He lowered his head. I felt his breathing, rapid and shallow.
I drew his face to mine and kissed him roughly, biting down on
the softness of his lip between my teeth.
I felt the softness of his sleeve over my breasts as he
drew his arm down. His hand covered my breast, caressing the puckered
nipple. A small smile drew my mouth open as I kissed him. He'd do it.
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