Awakening The Beast 1

Author's note: This story varies from my others to date. As always, I seek all feedback, positive and negative, to become a better writer and see what others enjoy in comparison to my own desires. Enjoy!

-------------------------------------

Sun. Glorious sun.

Kelly sighed, as she turned her car off the highway, reaching the small side road only marked as "SR 5". She needed this badly, a temporary reprieve from her life, from the daily grind. She had planned this little personal outing for a couple weeks now, to get some "me time", and after a week like this, it couldn't come soon enough.

That bright morning summer sun shifted into her view as she turned, making Kelly squint her green eyes, even behind her sunglasses. But she welcomed the light. It was warm. Soothing. The glare was only for a minute anyways, as she soon found the secondary road, an unnamed dirt strip flanked by green meadows and a pointed sign identifying "Patterson's Trail". Kelly turned the vehicle again, immediately feeling and hearing the road surface become rough.

A mile or so along, and Kelly reached the end of the road, coming to a wooden fence with a pedestrian opening. She slowed her vehicle to a stop, noting the trailing sound of the dirt and gravel crunching under the tires. A light dust cloud greeted her upon exiting the vehicle, which quickly dissipated, leaving clean, sweet, nature's air.

Kelly looked around, reveling in the vivid colors of the land—the bright blue sky, a rich green collage of wild grass carpeting the meadow, and beyond the fence, the deep earth tones of the forest. She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath through her nostrils, smelling the world around her, a mixture of sweet grass, a rural breeze, leaves, pine, and earthen dirt. Then she opened her eyes again and slowly exhaled, releasing all the stressors of life, feeling herself relax.

Grabbing a small pack from the back seat, Kelly changed into a pair of trail shoes, locked her car, and set off on the trail. She crossed through the fence, passed the treeline, and followed the path into the forest for a day of rare solitude. Setting a moderate pace, she settled into a steady rhythm, strolling up the path.

Crunch, crunch, crunch...

Kelly's breath fell into sync with her steps, hearing the sound of her soles plodding on the earthen trail, swinging her arms in time. She felt her heart rate increase, her body warm from the exercise. A trace of perspiration coated her fair skinned legs below her hiking shorts, her bare arms, her freckled cleavage above her partially open lightweight linen shirt. The air felt good on her lightly perspired skin. Miles passed.

As she walked, her mind wandered—things she needed to do at work, family, health. Worries of life, of her past, recurring responsibilities that constrained and wore down her endurance, her self-image. Daily thoughts and memories that would never escape her mind, for the rest of her life. Aching emotions of feeling alone, needing affection, to be touched. Needing to be wanted by someone. Kelly sighed as she walked. Even now, escaping life for a few hours, she couldn't escape herself, dammit. Her heart remained heavy. Troubled.

Lost in her thoughts, her body went on autopilot as an hour or two passed, trudging along the trail under the treed canopy. Except an occasional squirrel or bird, Kelly was completely alone, left to her own thoughts. Reaching a stream, she saw a couple old picnic tables to the sides of the trail, and decided it would be a good place for a mid-day lunch and rest. She stopped, feeling the warmth in her muscles, aware of her blood pumping through her body, feeling alive.

Kelly sat down at the first table, breathing deeply and stretching, enjoying the feel of a rest and taking weight off her feet. She pulled a sandwich and water bottle out of her pack and set them on the table in front of her, but, for some reason, she wasn't too interested. Her mind was too preoccupied with all her inner thoughts. She sat, staring at the textured bread of her sandwich, idly tracing her fingers along the plastic edge of the sandwich bag. Huh... her gaze wandered to the edge of the table where there was a weathered embossed metal placard. "BSA Troop 303, Eagle Scout Project 1989". Wow. The table had seen its time, and was certainly seasoned, but seemed well built and pretty sturdy.

A wet "splosh" sound ahead snapped her out of her trance, and her blood suddenly went cold. A man appeared in the shadows of trees in front of her, crossing the creek on the trail. Being alone, she all at once felt vulnerable and defensive, so far away from anyone else, her day alone violated by an intruder, this stranger.

He was tall, and big. Maybe 6'3", early 40's, light brownish grey peppered hair and a goatee. He wore long khaki-colored cargo pants, brown leather hiking boots, and a black pocketed shirt with the sleeves rolled up, baring thick, sturdy forearms. Their eyes met for a second, and Kelly felt a chill. His eyes were dark and cold, seemingly scanning, assessing for something, then moving on. He seemed to be quietly on a constant guard, watching and taking in the world. There was something... powerful about this man. Kelly stayed motionless.

Not wanting to connect, yet feeling a natural compulsion for courtesy, Kelly breathed, "Hello."

"Hi."

A simple gruff response, his voice deep and full of gravel. He fleetingly met her gaze, then sat down at the opposite side of the other old table, several yards away, and acted like Kelly wasn't even there. He pulled out a bag of jerky from a thigh pocket, and set to munching, looking down at the table in front of him in solitude.

Feeling a little less threatened, Kelly matched his actions, leaning forward to look downwards, and opened the clear plastic bag to pull out her sandwich. Still not feeling much of an appetite, she nibbled small bites and pretended to focus on her lunch. But her attention was really on this man, with a mixture of fascination and vigilance. As she chewed her food, she watched him intently out of the corner of her eye.

His attire could only be what she had heard referred to as "tacticool", clothing often worn by an ex-military person or "operator", who likes the functionality and movement of garments that allow unencumbered movement when doing physical tasks. Paired with the cargo pants and shirt, he wore a long checkered olive-colored "shemagh" scarf around his neck, and a tan cap with a small Velcro patch on the front. What was that insignia? A skull? Military unit?

He moved with a purpose, seemingly tight and controlled, using small fluid motions close to the body, like there was no wasted energy of motion. Putting away the jerky, he pulled out an apple and flicked open a side-opening knife with one hand. He then set to cutting off little apple chunks and putting them in his mouth by knife point.

She was suddenly captivated by his hands. Strong. Weathered. Masculine, with hair on the back, running up those forearms. But there was something about his hands. Something that said they had done terrible, unspeakable things. Been trained, over and over, until muscle memory itself knew instinctively how to react, how to operate.

How to... kill?

Kelly felt goosebumps, and couldn't stop staring at this man from the corner of her eye. His hands seemed to accompany inner, hidden secrets inside of him, of things no person should ever have to see. Of things no man should ever have to do. He seemed confident and fairly content with himself, but there was something so sad about him, lonely in solitude, like he was living a life of continual pain and grief. She quietly gazed at him, as covertly as she could manage, and her inner thoughts started up again.

She had her own demons too, things she had done that she considered unforgivable. The church told her this wasn't so, but she wrestled daily with God and her own soul. Her mind began to wander back to many years ago, back to that fateful, awful day. Remembering everything that had happened. The intense, spirit-quashing hurt. That fucking pain. The guilt. Remembering... HIM.

Kelly's head drooped forward, as it all came flooding back yet again, her red hair falling forward over her face. FUCK. She closed her eyes, not wanting to go there, but not being able to help it, either. Her heart broke open, as it had day after day for God knows how many years. That sinking, deep, intense aching feeling returned in her chest, like someone was squeezing her torso, crushing her soul inside. She sat, still as a statue, silently breaking down inside, her heart tearing apart, old scars once again ripping open at the same seams in a bloody, grisly mess. Her mind took her elsewhere, an involuntary mental ride she had no desire to take.

FUCK!!! Kelly was suddenly aware of streaks of tears on her face, dripping onto her fucking sandwich, and looked up with a jolt, at once scared and angry at herself for letting herself be so vulnerable. Her gaze went right to the other picnic table which was... empty.

Kelly sniffled and abruptly swiped her hands across her cheeks, and up under her sunglasses to wipe away all evidence. Then she pushed her crimson hair out of her face, which was now matted into her tears. How much time had passed? He couldn't have seen. She had her sunglasses on, her face had been down and hair falling forward. She furtively looked around, once again alone. There was only silence, paired with the faint babbling of the nearby creek. Where did he go? No matter. This was a day to be alone.

Damnit! This isn't what she wanted for her day, to be all emotional and sad, in this stupid anguish that had become an all too comfortable, haunting visitor. She was so angry at herself, at things going this way. She wanted just to get away and relax, blow off some steam, and here she was more pent up and frustrated than ever. Kelly let off a long string of obscenities in her head, picked up the rest of the damn sandwich, and furiously flung it into the woods. She downed the last gulp of water, angrily stuffed the bottle back into her pack, stood up, and whirled around, turning right into...

The stranger.

Holy shit, where did he come from? As she ran right into him, he was suddenly on her, his mouth pressed hard against hers. Those big strong hands held her arms tight against her side so she couldn't move, squeezing her upper arms like a vice. Her now forgotten pack dropped to the ground with a thump. In a flash, he drove her backwards into a tree, overwhelming and physically dominating her body with speed and surprise, slamming her back against the thick trunk. Her sunglasses went flying.

Kelly gasped and squealed in a mix of shock, terror, anger, and...

No. She couldn't allow herself to feel... no, could she? She was paralyzed, unable to process what was going on, frozen in place, even if he had allowed her to move. His soft goatee rubbed her face as he aggressively kissed her, his textured tongue penetrating her mouth.

Then he released his hold and kiss on her and pulled back, just an inch away from her, but no longer touching. He placed each hand on the tree trunk, to either side of her head, and leaned in close, running his nose up the side of her left cheek, as if he was drawing in her scent, still not touching. His motions were now slow and deliberate, confident, completely in control, letting her know who was in charge.

She felt weak, unable to stand, so she used the tree to steady her body and prop herself up, her mind trying to come up with an action. Any action. Scream? Run? Punch him in the fucking face? Or...

Oh God, no. No, no, she couldn't. She shut out the thought from her mind. Please don't let that be. Kelly stood, trembling, frozen, her very own body betraying her. She could smell him now, his musk, a bit of sweat, mixed with the scent of sticky tree sap, earth, and a faint trace of whiskey.

He leaned in even further without touching, placing his mouth by her ear. She could feel his warm breath on her sensitive skin, breezing over her perspiration. It was pure torture. She wanted to scream, to snap her body out of the paralysis, anything to break this stalemate. Then slowly, quietly, he growled, almost a snarl:

"Yes...

Or...

No?"

Immediately Kelly's mind lashed out. Oh, hell no! Who the fuck did this smug asshole think he was? She wanted to smack him. Kick him. He smoothly pulled back and looked at her intently in silence with dark, hazel brown eyes, a poker face expression, but one that signaled both lust and dominance. She wanted to hate him. To spit in his face. But she couldn't.

Damn him. She couldn't. And she saw in his face that he knew it. He knew already what her answer was, even before she did. He could see the surrender written all over her face. They both knew that he was in control. She wanted this. No, she needed this. Needed him, needed to feel. Anything but this pain. Kelly felt the silence, the tension. Her trembling intensified as he waited. No. Not even that was enough for him. He was going to make her say it. Mother. FUCKER. She closed her eyes, her shoulders drooped in resignation, and her head imperceptibly tipped forward again. Kelly felt her eyes well up. She hated herself for what she was about to say.

"Yes."

Fuck. For a second, he didn't move. Kelly kept her eyes shut, but still didn't feel any touch from him. Then she heard some rustling in front of her. She opened her eyes just in time to see him pull apart the last of a bracelet of 550 paracord on his wrist, leaving a long thin rope. Oh, no. Now his hands were on her again, firmly taking her wrists and forcefully holding them above her head, pinning them to the tree. He slung the cord around the backside of the tree and back the other side, binding her wrists tightly above her head.

Oh, God. Kelly's heart was pounding hard, feeling every solid beat in her throat, her blood feeling like thick sludge. Her brain was screaming at her, telling her one thing, but God help her, this was making her wet. Damn him to hell, she wanted him, no, she NEEDED him, and she hated him for it. Her muscles, still warm from the hike, the light sweat returning to her skin, now combined with a fire igniting in her sex, and she felt flushed, her face turning red to compliment her fiery hair. Fucking hell.

He was rough with her, aggressive, immediately setting into her. His hands harshly grasped her body, her torso, holding her hips. His mouth was firmly held closed, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring and twitching as he manhandled her body, staring right into her eyes. His face changed. Oh, God, she was the firsthand eyewitness to a hidden beast inside him bursting out of its chains right in front of her, throwing off its shackles after being held captive and dormant for God knows how long. He tugged hard at her blouse, jerking her body as he untucked it from her shorts, then angrily pulled each button apart, one by one.

No, anger wasn't the right word. He wasn't acting angry. This was aggression in its purist, uncut form, manifesting through lust and dominance. This man was becoming an unleashed beast with her, releasing something pent up from its dormant cage. Reaching the last button, he pulled her blouse apart to each side, exposing her upper body. Her breasts heaved with deep, labored breaths, her stomach contracting in and pushing out, navel pulled taut with her arms over her head. Kelly was visibly trembling now, a bundle of excitement and nerves, feeling the afternoon air on her torso. It had begun.

He smirked, (or was that a snarl?) still looking into her eyes, and traced his fingertips on one hand down from her clavicle through her freckled cleavage, hooking his index finger on her sports bra, then letting the stretchy material snap back with an audible "pop". His fingers continued down over her thorax and stomach, taking possession of her, sending a chill through her body and commanding goosebumps to her skin. Just as Kelly drew in a reactive breath, his hand abruptly attacked her covered left breast, his mouth again pressing hard onto hers. She couldn't keep up with this onslaught. He groped and squeezed her breast hard over her bra, deeply massaging her, making Kelly moan. Her pussy swelled with heat in an involuntary reaction. Almost as if he knew this, he suddenly yanked up the bottom of her sports bra, jerking it up over her full tits, which bounced heavily, naked, falling free from their enclosure.

With both hands, he lifted and squeezed her bare breasts, his mouth dropping to them, burying his face in her juicy tits. Shit, she hadn't ever been assailed like this. Had her hands not been bound above her head, she would have cradled his head in her arms and pulled him into her breasts, so instead, she arched her back, trying to push her tits into him, offering herself. Hungrily, he sucked one breast into his mouth, then the other, suckling on her nipple, making her cry out, then suddenly using his teeth on her tit flesh, mixing pain into the cocktail of sensations he was giving her. No doubt that would leave a bite mark.

He again sucked a breast hard and deep into his mouth, savagely acting fierce and primal. Her nipple hardened, which he encircled with his tongue, deep in his throat. Then with a wet "pop", he released her from his mouth, leaving her tits moist with his saliva, and attacked her other breast just as she started to feel the sensations were becoming uneven.

The man, this complete stranger, started to unbuckle her belt, then unbuttoned her shorts, opening up the front fly. He brought his face again to just an inch away from hers, then turned a hand around, placed the palm flat on her pelvis, and plunged it inside her exposed panties, through her trimmed pubic hair, aggressively cupping her steaming hot sex, claiming her. His grip, so strong on her body. Such arrogance. Kelly groaned, reflexively grinding her pussy into his powerful hand, both loving and hating how he was looking at her, taking her.

His middle finger slipped between her wet pussy lips, stroking her, as his palm pushed firmly into her abdomen, pushing the pooled blood inside down into her pelvis, sending her already burning pussy into full afterburner. Kelly couldn't help but grind her hips into his large, strong hand, wanting so much more. She started straining against her bonds, wiggling in a mixture of discomfort and pleasure. Her own calm, composed side was progressively disappearing, her own raging desire taking over. That primal human need for sex was shutting out everything else. He steadily stroked her, parting her soft pussy lips, his hand inside her moist panties. His fingertip circled her vaginal entrance, deep and wet, then slid up and stroked her clit. Oh God that felt good, having a man touch her like that again.

He stopped, hooked his fingertips in her waistband, then together pulled her shorts and panties off her butt and hips, fully exposing her sex. Not bending over, he pushed them down to her thighs, then let them go, dropping down over her pale white legs to plop on top of her feet. He leaned in again, his face a centimeter from hers, until his mouth was by her left ear, like he was going to tell her a secret that no one was around to hear anyway. He again growled, "Step out of them."

Kelly paused, then awkwardly picked up and shuffled her feet one by one, clumsily pulling her still shoe-clad feet out of the leg holes of her shorts and panties. Once the second foot was almost out, she caught the shorts and panties on the tip of her foot and kicked them to the side.

And there she was.

Kelly suddenly had the stark realization she was tied to a tree, deep in a forest, almost completely naked with a stranger, standing feet shoulder-width apart, her exposed pussy dripping anticipatory juices down her leg. Her shirt was open, sports bra pushed up into her armpits, tits unreservedly hanging out. What a sight. All pretense of modesty had long since disappeared, now in full unkempt debauchery. Such a strange mixture of intense emotions. Kelly felt somewhat used. Slutty. Sexy. Dominated. So fucking excited.