SIDETRACKED

VK Foxe

The action was automatic, thoughtless. Lewis followed the beautiful blonde running past him with his eyes, his head, and finally a twist of his upper body. The tightknit fabric of her hot-pink leggings was somehow as alluring as bare skin, and the way her ponytail swung had a hypnotic quality to it. She hadn’t even noticed him, alas.

With a heavy sigh, he turned back around, only to discover another attractive trail runner, who wasn’t running. When had she come around the bend? How long had she watched him ogling the other girl—how long had he stood there stupidly? She had the radiant, light-brown skin of a mixed heritage and wore only skimpy, powder-blue running shorts and a purple sports bra, though she’d crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her legs and abdomen were tight and toned, but her glare was pure disdain.

Lewis opened his mouth to explain, but what was there to say? He felt his cheeks reddening, and he tried not to make it any worse by staring at this beauty with the same wanting gaze. Too late already.

“Oh? You want some, then?”

How was he supposed to answer that? The woman took two swift steps forward and reached a hand around to grab a handful of his hair, but didn’t stop walking. Lewis gasped, speech centers blown out. Sure, he’d been starved for contact, but he’d never expected to be turned on by being hurt—or maybe how she’d taken such a firm, possessive grasp explained his rush of excitement. He stumbled along as she led them off the trail for maybe thirty feet, then shoved him down to his knees behind a large oak.

What was it about being on his knees that made his heart race? Even if she hated him, he relished the focused attention. Did it make him a pervert that he wanted to volunteer to be hurt more, if that’s what she wanted? She’d watched his eyes, and she nodded as if recognizing his thoughts having come to where she desired: penance.

The nameless goddess hooked her thumbs into her shorts and drove down in a single, violent motion. He’d been expecting her to grab a sharp stick and poke at him in some symbolic reenactment of the male gaze. Instead, Lewis found himself at eye level to her moistened pudenda as she stepped out of her shorts without bothering to remove her running shoes.

With a dancer’s grace, she suddenly skipped forward, bounding to catch hold of a branch above them. As she pulled up, her perfect legs wrapped around his head, her sneakers catching him below the shoulder blades, Lewis found himself yanked forward and buried in her thighs. His goddess had been running a while, and she was slick with sweat. “Lick, boy,” she said, breathless and excited.

He focused on pleasing her, as she shifted and tightened around him like a serpent. He breathed her in and obeyed, savoring the pungent sweetness and overjoyed at living the difference between penance and punishment. The danger of potential exposure, his bended-knee subservience, and her rough, inconsiderate handling combined to make his chest buzz with excitement. But when she began correcting him, Lewis felt the true sting of humiliation.

“Lower.” His inexperience necessitated this. Lewis resolved to thank her for the tutorial by learning so fast for her. “Slower.” Her scent was all over his face, all he knew, and he felt drugged by it, but he needed to obey, to focus on that, even as he relished being on his knees serving her. “None of that flicky shit,” she snapped. “Savor that clit!”

Once he’d managed a full minute without correction, she dropped back off, shoved him backward, and settled down onto his face. He licked and lapped and zigzagged and sucked with increasing fervor. He would be so good, earn her praise—and maybe her name.

At last her thighs tightened, squeezing out sound, and Lewis worked his frantic tongue inside her while trying to tease her clit with his nose. He felt a sudden splash and drank deep, because there was nothing else to do. After a breath he resumed licking, with a more desperate need to prove he could serve her, making certain to swivel and slide and appreciate just as she preferred. He was throbbing and heavy in his jeans, making him wonder if he could climax from pleasing her.

As she’d relaxed in the wake of climax, her thighs came off his ears, and Lewis heard footsteps approaching, crunching too loudly to be on the main trail.

“Eyes,” his goddess corrected, and he looked up to meet hers. Sounds weren’t his concern. She smiled down at him, lacing fingers into his hair, then pulled him tight against her, breaking his rhythm. She’d taken charge of motion now, rocking a little, so all he could do was stiffen his tongue; he couldn’t even breathe, he was too tightly pulled against her! Her sliding across his face lacked even the slightest lifting. Lewis watched her smile widen, wolfish, as she read the recognition of his utter helplessness. She began working herself more roughly against his face as he tried to gasp, receiving only a grinding mask of taut, wet skin.

“Keep that tongue out,” she whispered. “Don’t falter if you ever want to breathe again.” Something cold touched his straining erection, though he didn’t even remember his pants being undone. Then came a strange pressure, warm hands using a heavy object to work against him, to compress and confine him. Everything felt dreamlike and disjointed, difficult to track as his goddess ruthlessly rode him. Just as he felt himself slipping altogether, she reached a gushing climax that stung his open eyes and forced him to swallow.

As she rose to stand on trembling legs, Lewis was surprised to discover the blonde kneeling behind her. She pierced him with a mischievous glance as something she did made an audible, metallic snick. Their laughter made his cock pulse, and only then did he feel, with an intense rush of desire and need, how awkward and trapped his manhood had become. They had locked it into an impossibly confining metal prison. The blonde stood, picking up a tiny pink purse she hadn’t had with her when she’d jogged past him. She removed a little note card and dropped it in his general direction as the nameless goddess pulled her running shorts back on.

“We own you now,” his goddess said. “But you like that, don’t you, pet?”

His face felt hot as he nodded, with both of them staring down at him.

The blonde said, “Wait one week before you call. The cage will make you properly pliant, ready for further training.” They laughed again, and then began jogging back toward the trail, away.

Lewis hadn’t just been used; he’d been tricked. Somehow it only made him more desperately hungry for them, and grateful, as his aching cock strained hopelessly against the metal.