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Into the Woods
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.
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 street lights.
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 street
light 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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