Authors: Tabitha Rayne
She pulled on a top and sandals, smoothing her skirt over her thighs as quickly as she could, and crawled out of the tent.
“Marcus?” she called, knowing her fears were irrational, but panic still held her in its queasy grip.
The camp was deserted and smoke languidly snaked from the fire in a lazy column to the treetops. Deborah scrambled over to the exit to the river, her heart beating rapidly, her breathing tight.
“Marcus?” All her senses were on high alert. She wasn’t sure if it was the memory of the creepy Denva lurking around or a huge comedown from the experience she’d shared with Marcus, but either way, she was edgy and paranoid. Something was nagging at her conscience, telling her she was no longer safe.
Half running, half stumbling, she grasped at branches, yanking them out the way as they whipped into her face and bare legs. From nowhere, an arm caught her roughly and threw her to the ground. Everything went black as she let the forest floor absorb her.
“Don’t make a fucking sound.” A harsh whisper slashed at her ear as she was pulled onto her back and a hand pressed hard over her mouth.
She breathed in though her nose, and relaxed as a faint, familiar tang made it through the panic and tears. Marcus. She opened her eyes to see his gaze darting all around, on high alert.
He bowed low and removed his hand slowly, whispering to her softly this time. “Sorry, I had to do that. I found tracks. They’re not any of ours. I was sure I felt someone watching the camp.”
Denva. Deborah relaxed and smiled. They’d fallen asleep so quickly after their lovemaking that she hadn’t had time to explain where the chocolate had come from.
“It’s okay,” she said soothingly. “I can explain. Come on, let’s go for a swim.”
And so, with the sun dancing off the ripples as they splashed about together, Deborah told Marcus about the strange little trader man she’d seen with Birch that morning.
“And there’s nothing more to it?” he asked, still looking cautious.
“I don’t think so. Birch seemed to set him straight on most things and sent him on his way pretty sharply.”
“Well, maybe I’ll talk to him later. Just to make sure.” He reached for Deborah and turned her so he could rub the soap he had brought into her shoulders. She closed her eyes and let herself be soothed by his strong, gentle touch.
* * * *
They ate dinner early. The atmosphere was different. It was a subtle change, but a change nonetheless. Deborah tried to dismiss the feeling of uneasiness that rose in her, but every mouthful of food was becoming more difficult to swallow.
Hazel seemed to be nervous, twittering around the cooking pot like a flighty starling. She passed out the dinner bowls, appearing to be completely absorbed in the task, but Deborah sensed her mind was elsewhere. Birch was different too. His chat was stilted and forced, like the couple were holding something back. Deborah wondered if Marcus had spoken with Birch yet. Yes, maybe that was it. But Deborah couldn’t remember a moment when she and Marcus had been apart the whole day.
When she thought about it, she couldn’t remember seeing much of Birch and Hazel. Maybe they’d been away trying to reach an ultimate unity of their own. But still, a wary sensation was nagging at Deborah. Her skin began to creep as she remembered the exchange between Birch and Denva that morning. The whole camp seemed unsettled and the usually delicious food that Hazel had prepared tasted bland and unappetizing.
The foursome sat eating in an awkward silence until Birch rose from his log.
“Well, I’m just going for a little late afternoon stroll,” he said awkwardly.
“I’ll join you.” Hazel fluttered upright and the couple wandered off without a backward glance.
“Something weird’s going on,” whispered Deborah when she was sure Birch and Hazel were well out of earshot. “Hazel hasn’t said a word to me all day, and Birch is being strange too.”
“Really?” Marcus was scraping the last of the stew from his bowl and hungrily reached for the discarded platefuls left by Birch and Hazel. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“What? You’re kidding me.” Deborah rolled her eyes incredulously. “Marcus, come on, they are totally up to something.”
“They were just quiet, that’s all. Probably off to scoff their secret stash of chocolate.” He glanced up from the leftovers, grinning.
“Marcus, be serious. I think they’re going to betray us.”
“To who?” Marcus was still nonchalant.
“That Denva character. What if he’s some sort of spy?”
“Nah, wouldn’t have thought so.” He put down the plate and pulled Deborah close in to him. “Listen, I’ve got a theory about it.”
“Oh yeah?” Deborah looked skeptically up at him.
“Well, from the way they’ve been going on about this intimate unity thing.”
“
Ultimate
unity.”
“Whatever. Well, they must be a bit pissed off that we saunter in and fly off on some astral-planing sex adventure by luck and they’ve barely left the ground with years of practice.”
“What, you think they’re jealous?”
“Yeah, I do,” Marcus said. “Just give them a little time. Birch is fine. I think it’s Hazel who’s finding it a bit hard to take.”
“But she’s the one who told us about it in the first place!”
“I know. I guess she wanted to play teacher for a little longer.”
Silence fell over the couple and they sat sleepily by the fire, Deborah feeling a little less nervous but somehow guilty. As she let Marcus’s shoulder take the full weight of her head, something he said struck her as being odd or presumptuous.
“How do you know Hazel’s the one with the problem?” she asked. It took her a moment or two to extricate herself from his mighty grip.
“Well, I had a chat with Birch earlier on.”
“When? You’ve been with me all day.”
“Met him when I went for a pee before dinner. He told me then.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were talking to him? I feel like a right idiot now, jumping to conclusions.” She felt wrong-footed yet again in these woods.
“I didn’t tell you because, we’ve got a surprise for you,” he said evenly, then winked.
She shuddered with excitement and nerves. “When?”
“They’re preparing for us now. I wasn’t meant to say anything, just suggest a walk in the woods, but I know what you’re like when you get crazy ideas in your head.”
“Thanks.” Deborah wanted to be angry that she had been kept in the dark about all of this, but she wasn’t. She was thrilled that these people had made plans behind her back—plans to take her in hand and hopefully do things to her. She bit her lip and looked away, affecting a huffy air, but she smiled broadly into the trees, relishing the excitement that built in her chest and crotch. “When do we go for this ‘walk’?” She couldn’t help wriggling on the log, delighted to find a little nodule of bark that protruded from the trunk at just the right place.
“Just relax. You’ll see.” Marcus pulled her into him once more and squeezed her shoulder. “Well, actually, you won’t.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet blindfold. “Here, put this on.”
Chapter 13
As soon as he’d tied the blindfold in place around her eyes, it was as if Marcus had changed personalities. His grip was firmer, his voice gruffer, and Deborah couldn’t help but stumble a little more helplessly that she would have usually.
“On your feet,” he snapped, digging nails in under her arm and hoisting her up, pushing her on so she tripped over again.
The spongy undergrowth caught her safely each time but she craved a graze from a tree root or some bark at the very least. When she was on her knees for about the seventh time, Marcus apparently lost his patience.
“For God’s sake. Can’t you even walk?” The words hissed into her ear as he crouched down behind her, running his palm roughly under her behind. Her ass was bare beneath her skirt and he reached through her thighs and cupped her whole mound, lifting her by her crotch to a standing position. “There, that’s not so hard now, is it?”
She stood trembling as he began to slowly rub the heel of his hand into her moistening cleft, pushing harder and harder, making her spread her thighs and totter on her pointed toes. His fingers twisted into her pubic hair and gave it a sudden tug.
“I asked you a question,” he whispered, tugging harder this time, and Deborah winced.
The heat from his breath curled around her ear and ruffled the downy hairs on her jawline, sending an electric current cascading through the nerve endings down over her décolletage to the peaking nubs of her nipples where it buzzed.
“I said, that’s not so hard now, is it?” Marcus repeated.
Deborah shook her head and willed her mouth to stop short of curling into an excited smile.
“Good.” He gave an extra tug on her pussy hair and pressed again into her widely spread lips. His hand slipped around easily, coated in her juices and she started undulating her hips to try and catch a fingertip on her awakening clit. He declined the offer, just as she knew he would, and withdrew his hand.
She smiled to herself again. This was going to be fun. The knowledge that they’d met, however briefly, at ultimate unity made her ready to wait and just enjoy each and every sensation without the worry that they would be there together. It was a serene yet vibrant knowledge, and Deborah could feel herself dropping away as the welling in her clit built.
A twig snapping underfoot brought her back to the here and now. Low voices, hushed further by the leafy coverage, made her senses prick. She identified Birch and Hazel immediately, but thought she could sense something else. A smell, perhaps? Something familiar yet unfamiliar—sinister almost.
She shivered and gave herself a mental shake. Who wouldn’t be spooked, blindfolded and led through a forest to some sort of sexual experiment? She calmed once more and the nerves were replaced by sudden desire as Marcus deftly slipped a finger inside her from behind.
“Don’t worry, I’m here, you’re safe,” he said quietly in his normal voice then, just as quickly, changed again as the finger jabbed abruptly then pulled out. “Is that clear?”
Deborah knew to reply quickly this time and nodded with her head bowed.
“Good.”
Without warning, Marcus pulled Deborah’s hands behind her back and began to bind them tightly with some sort of fabric—a silk scarf, or handkerchief maybe? Now she was fully aroused and disorientated, swaying on her bare feet as her toes splayed out, trying to grip the spongy soil. Liquid leaked from her pussy lips onto the tops of her inner thighs and she rubbed them together, trying to hide just how aroused her vulnerable state made her. Marcus prodded her forward as he held onto her wrists, barely keeping her upright. She stumbled on until she sensed they were standing before Birch and Hazel.
“Welcome, Thorn and Celeste.” Birch’s voice was solemn and it chilled Deborah. She had been taking this as a bit of a joke until now, but that tone sobered her.
She held her breath, fully aware of how erect her nipples would look piercing through her thin blouse and how her skirt rode up to expose her thighs and knees, filthy from falling on the ground and being handled roughly by Marcus. The image of herself looking so disheveled seared itself into her mind and her desire raged through her as quickly as it had left.
She was relieved when Birch continued with a softer tone. “Hazel and I have asked you here to share your knowledge of ultimate unity with us.” The sound of him shuffling in his seat gave Deborah a clearer image of the situation. They must both be sitting. This seemed suddenly important somehow, and she relaxed further as Birch went on, “It seems we have been mistaken. We were of the conceited opinion that we had something to teach you about unity but we humbly accept that, despite your tender years, you are far beyond us in your practices.”
Deborah thought she heard Hazel sob, but it was quickly disguised as a sniff.
“Please, let us bear witness to an ultimate unity. Take us with you on your journey into being one,” Birch said.
Deborah quivered. They wanted a sex show? Her natural prude reared its head, and she hunched her shoulders, stepping back a little, but Marcus pushed her forward.
“We’ll show you ours if you show us yours,” he said cockily, and Deborah knew she was in for an orgy. The thought flooded her body with feral desire, and she broke free of the hunch, arching her back and pushing her breasts high, and opened her legs while wriggling her hips to ride her skirt up. She wanted to show the other couple her ripe sex as her response. She felt it important she remain silent for now.
Marcus seemed to understand immediately and helped expose her ruffled muff by hoisting her skirt higher. She could hear Hazel’s breath trembling and imagined her luscious rosebud nipples straining through her kaftan. She was wet, so wet now, and her lips felt plump and full as Marcus parted them with two fingers to show off her slick, red cherry.
“Feel how wet she is,” he urged their audience.
Deborah opened and closed her eyes, moving her brow frantically as she tried to lift the blindfold up a little. It worked. A tiny opening appeared just below both eyes; she could see directly down to her exposed cunt.
“Go on, feel her,” Marcus insisted. “You need to be this wet.”
Deborah heard her own heart thundering as a shaking hand came into view. Birch curled all his fingers into his fist apart from his middle one. Deborah parted her legs and tilted her hips, ready for the invasion. Slowly, painfully slowly, Birch probed at her entrance, which was held open by Marcus. She groaned and stared as Birch suddenly corkscrewed his thick, rough finger deep into her. Her head fell back as another finger joined the first, stretching and fucking her with a new, unfamiliar touch. Her fleshy walls contracted around him, holding him, beckoning him, but he withdrew and she felt empty.
A softer touch came. Slow, languid probing started and Deborah was taken over with stillness. The world centered on those divine, slick digits, working into her, expertly sliding in and out with their feathery touch. It was so different, so feminine. She could sense them trying to coax something from her. A wisp of herself broke free as the tug of her orgasm drew her into it. Somewhere, a tiny speck of consciousness snapped her back to the physical world. Deborah realized she would have to be careful who she let bring her to that metaphysical space. She had sensed Hazel’s greed and desperation for her knowledge and it scared her. Hazel had tried to steal it from her—knowingly or not, it didn’t matter. Deborah was now on guard.