A TESTING TIME

Suzanne Fox

Only the tension of the seat belt halted Cerys’s sliding from the front seat as the Audi bumped its way across rough terrain and crunched to a halt. She guessed that they had been on the road for about an hour but she couldn’t be sure, and she was clueless as to where they were. Her blindfold masked the outside world from view and she had heard no rumble of traffic for at least fifteen minutes. Apart from the car’s engine, the only sound had been the whooshing of blood as it surged past her ears, pumped by her adrenaline-fueled heart.

They had met online a few weeks earlier and, through their chats, learned a little about the other’s needs and desires, negotiating a fragile path through a maze of protocol and trust. They had met a couple of times in the anonymity of a cheap hotel chain and each time he had hurt her, leaving her purple with bruises and welts. Their play had been rough and exciting, but each time there had been the security of hotel staff and guests ready to raise the alarm if his games got out of hand. Now she was alone with a man who was little more than a stranger.

Cerys licked dry lips with a tongue that was just as parched. She was treading a dangerous path. Was consenting to be taken blindfolded to god knew where with this man, the most irresponsible and perilous thing she had ever done? The realization that she would soon find out excited and terrified her.

The engine cut out.

Silence.

A brush of leather scuffed her neck, sending frissons of tension trembling down her spine before the collar was tightened and buckled. A metallic snap alerted her to a leash attaching to the collar’s ring, and unseen hands released her seat belt. It recoiled like a startled snake into its holster and Cerys flinched. His hands battled hers for control of her wrists before she surrendered to the grip of hard steel cuffs. Her sharpened hearing strained for the slightest of clues. The driver’s door slammed shut and muffled steps circled the car.

Cerys jumped, a small yelp escaping her lips as the door beside her flew open and the leash snapped taut. She tumbled from the car, only stopping when she crashed into the broad torso of the man who currently had control of her. Regaining her balance and poise, she stood motionless, feet apart and head bowed. Waiting.

Fingers tilted her chin, darkness disappeared and a landscape of stippled greenery saturated her vision as he removed her blindfold. Woodland stretched as far as she could see, broken only by a rough, beaten path. Her eyes questioned the man holding the leash but elicited only silence in response.

Hoisting a canvas backpack onto his shoulders, he yanked the leash, dragging Cerys toward the path. She struggled to keep pace with his long strides, picking her way past any roots and rocks waiting to snare her feet. She ducked beneath low branches and stepped over patches of stinging nettles, knowing that any trip or stumble would tighten the leather band around her neck, choking the breath from her. They marched in deliberate silence, which fueled her imagination into overdrive as scene after scene toyed with her mind, teasing and playing her doubts into a meticulous medley of anticipation and fear.

Cerys revered fear. The thrill of living on the edge breathed life into her existence. It ignited the fire that nourished her spirit. It enticed her along the path to pleasures most people never encountered, or only experienced vicariously as they surfed the Internet in shameful solitude or thumbed the pages of the latest socially acceptable BDSM paperback. That wasn’t enough to sate the appetite of her inner submissive. Cerys knew she craved the sting of the whip, the bite of the rope, and the discipline of an alpha man to push her to the heights and depths of pain and pleasure.

Her neck extended and her body lurched behind it as the leash pulled taut. His pace quickened and Cerys matched it. The August sunlight streaming through the leafy canopy scorched her already perspiring skin as she felt the hot rays penetrate deeper, warming her muscles and bringing her blood to near-boiling point. The heat spread farther until she felt a familiar aching in her pussy as it swelled in response. Her inflamed flesh, now fully sensitized to the rub of the crotch rope he had tied beneath her clothing, began to get wetter as the friction increased. Cerys whimpered as the first stirrings of an orgasm blossomed. Imaginings of what would soon happen evicted all mundane thoughts and, for Cerys, the anticipation was almost as thrilling as the scene itself. But underscoring the exhilaration and the expectation ran a cold current of dread. Not the sense of controlled fear that usually accompanied her play, but a deeper, more primal terror that wormed deep into her psyche, urging her to snatch the leash from his grip and race for the security of a crowded space.

The trepidation that had simmered all day was now threatening to erupt. Her life was in the hands of a man intent on causing her pain. The contents of the backpack that weighed down his shoulders were a mystery. She hoped for rope, a flogger, a paddle, or maybe a whip. But what if there were other things—a knife, a hammer, or worse? A rat of dread that wouldn’t be ignored chewed at her stomach.

Blinding sunlight dazzled her vision and she squinted as a clearing opened in the trees. Through the haze, Cerys saw the dark outline of an ancient oak near the center of the glade and she stumbled toward it following the pull of the leash.

In silence, he freed one of Cerys’s wrists, spun her around, and cuffed her hands behind her. She realized she couldn’t outrun him restrained in this way. He tipped open the backpack, spilling the contents onto the ground, and selected a length of hemp rope.

Cerys felt the chafe of rope as he secured it to the cuffs and she broke her silence. “What…what are you going to do?”

His answer was a huff of breath as he hurled the other end of the rope over one of the lower branches. It rasped against the gnarled bark. He pulled the rope down and Cerys’s arms began to rise behind her. She bowed forward as her arms lifted higher, rotating her shoulder joints, displaying the curve of her bottom and tightening the thin rope that rubbed against her cunt. It was now or never. She prayed she would be proved right and drew in a deep breath.

“RED!”

The rope slipped free and her arms fell back down. Strong arms hugged her, pressing her body against his. Warm breath kissed the top of her head and a comforting voice whispered, “Tell me what’s wrong, baby. We can stop if you’re not ready.”

Cerys looked at his face. It was scored with concern. Smiling, she realized she was going to be safe and treasured in his hands.