6 comments/ 49969 views/ 7 favorites The Forest of Brutality By: Whisper and Angel By Erotic Whisper and Midnight Angel It is the first night of fall and I can already feel the cool air creeping about the atmosphere. A thick fog settles upon the forest, drifting through the trees as if hunting a particularly weak victim. The gray haze seemingly mocks me as it crawls closer yet. The night quietly blankets the land in darkening shadows. The overwhelming need to figure out which way I had traveled lay heavy on my heart. I feel numb with the limitless fears that assault my inner strength. My eyes searching from north to south and then east to west with the paranoid sense of being lost. "All I wanted to do was take a peaceful walk in the forest to try and relax." My softly mumbled words sound so solitary as they follow my every step deeper into the woods. I berate myself for not thinking, and I continue to complain quietly to myself, "Well perhaps luck will be with me. I mean, surely I can find my way back to my own home." Every nerve in my body stands alert, my fear of being alone in the dark causes me to shake and quicken my steps. My imagination runs wild with the thoughts of shadows moving to grasp me, and the branches of nearby trees reaching out to scratch at me. I begin to jog forth with an urgent need to find my home. My heart hammering in my chest as I search the forest for a familiar sign that I'm heading in the right direction. The briars scratch and tear at my sensitive flesh, but I don't stop for anything. Glancing behind me, I begin to run faster and squint my eyes to try to see into the darkness. I clumsily trip over a protruding tree root and stumble trying to keep my balance. But it's too late. I fall to the ground with a soft cry. Doubling over as I collapse and roll to my side. Quite sure my luck has run out. Night crawlers serenade me as I lie upon the ground for a few minutes and try and calm myself. I slowly move to sit upright, feeling a little disoriented. Carefully running my fingers over my arms and wincing at the cuts from the briars that still dig into my flesh. I gingerly try to pull them from my skin and clothing. A twig snaps, causing me to whip my head toward the sound. Weary emerald eyes search the shadows for any movements. My heart pounding so hard in my chest it makes it difficult to hear anything else. An eerie feeling creeps over me. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickle and follow suit with the impending sense that something is out there. And whatever it is, it's hiding and lurking in the shadows. It just waits to get me. Gauging the exact moment to attack. Taking in a slow deep breath, I try to control my rising fears. Snap! There it is again. I think I can feel my whole body go cold. A small cry, almost foreign to my own ears, escapes me when I hear twigs snapping again. The sound all too familiar, represents someone taking a step closer toward me. I struggle to scramble to my feet. My muscles tense with the fear of the unknown. I turn to run and in that same instance I find that my arm is tugged forcefully away from my body. My scream welling up in a state of panic, reverberates against the trees. I twist and turn trying to catch a glimpse of the person grabbing my arm. But I am unable to compete with their strength. Despite this strong hold I still try to jerk myself free. I turn, determined to fight my attacker. Kicking and hitting as hard as I can. Yet I cause no damage. Nor do I find release from that grip. My blood runs cold, as cold as the air that has settled in with the nightfall. Soon I realize that I will have to fight with every ounce of strength I have or meet an ill fate at the hands of this stranger. This looming figure towers over me and menacingly growls down to me. I stammer and inch back from him. His grip tightens and causes me to wince and change tactics. I scream and plead for him to release me. But he only sneers while jerking me forward with his next step closer. Pressing his hard body against mine before shoving me to the cold ground. Suddenly gasping for my breath as it is knocked from my lungs. I try to breathe, but all I can manage is a series of small pants. My chest ceases to heave with the gradual return of my breath. I slowly rise and begin to plead for my safety. "Please I'll do anything. Just let me go. You want money? I've got money, here take it!" Throwing what small amount of cash I have in my pocket at his feet. I begin to inch away from him again. Squinting in the darkness to try and view my attacker. He growls deeply. The sound boils and rumbles in his chest. And those eyes, they seem to be lit by an internal fire that could incinerate the bravest soul. He swings his hand back in a wide arc and cruelly back hands me. My head reeling long after his hand marks my cheek with an angry red splotch. I stumble backwards and fall to the ground. My feet knocked out from beneath me with his strength. Shaking my head softly, I try to clear the blurry vision left over from his strike. But before I can turn to crawl away, he grabs me by the back of my head. Laughing as he curls his hand into my golden locks and yanks me back cruelly. My scream fills the air in a shrill and painful manner. I whimper and try to lean back into his hand to ease his titan grip. Making sure to follow his hand as he pulls me from the earth's floor. His hard chest presses into my back and sends a thrilling chill down my spine. My senses piqued and on edge as it dawns on me that despite my fear he's making my inner flesh throb with the forbidden need to feel him take me. Bile rises in my throat with the thought. I practically make myself sick with the realization. He drops his head down and whispers in my ear, "If I were you I'd shut my fucking mouth and be still bitch." I stand there rigid with my arms hanging down my sides. But my body moves uncontrollably against him when he jerks my hips into his growing bulge. Out of the corner of my eye I see something flash in the moonlight. Suddenly I feel a stark cold blade against my throat. Whispering faintly up to him, "Oh God, please no. Don't do this." My voice quivers with the desperate plea. The blade pushes more into the side of my throat. Nicking my flesh just enough to send me a warning of just how serious he is. The warmth of my blood slowly trickles down my neck, proving to me that if I move he will not delay in taking my life. Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I whimper softly while his warm tongue laps at the slow trickle of my blood. A sudden wetness coating my hidden cunt. I find myself slowly tilting my head to the side to give him better access to the creamy flesh of my neck. Hoping that this sign of submission will work in my favor. A silent siren goes off in my head when I feel his blade leaving my throat for a split second. Gasping when he wraps his fingers into my hair and jerks my head to the side. "Did I say you could move slut?" he growls into my ear. He speaks as if he almost anticipates my next move. A large fist yanks my hair harder to pull my head more to the side. He leans his head down further, flashing white teeth dig into the tender flesh of my neck when he bites down hard. Every muscle in my body tenses even harder and pulls taunt. I scream as loud as I can. Quickly raising my hands behind me to scratch him and grab for his hair. He shoves his blade back to my throat and cuts into my flesh again, silencing me and stilling my movements. Tears stream down my face as his tongue laps over the new wound. Undaunted by my attempt to fight him, he gently strokes my hair as if to calm me. Soft moans escape my trembling lips. My mind races to try and figure out how I can possibly be enjoying what this psycho is doing to me. Taking another deep breath I hide the pain that caresses my open wounds with the cool night air. I strain to wait for the right moment to bolt. His hand rubs into my hip and up further to my breast. The knife moving away from my throat signals my next move. Suddenly I kick back and shove my elbow into his ribs. Hearing his groan and sharp intake of breath, I jump forward and run as fast as I can into the darkness. He bends over and in a last ditch effort his knife catches me and slashes into my upper arm before I can escape. My arm burns with the fresh pain. I reach up and grab my upper arm. Clutching the damp fabric of my shirt tightly to still the flow of my blood. Lost and scared, my feet carry me as fast as they can regardless of this unknown terrain. I glance back over my shoulder to find him standing there watching me run. His stance so sure and cocky. He does not even move. I gasp and run further into the forest. I hope to put more distance between us with my flight. My frantic breath seems to crush my lungs. Inwardly I worry about the cut to my upper arm, and I curl my hand around the wound tighter to still the flow of blood. The fierce pain shoots through my arm with every jostled step. I stop to catch my breath. Hunching over in fatigue, I groan softly. Thought after thought assault my frantic mind, making me wonder how in the world this could be happening to me. Tiny beads of sweat trickle down my face and sting the marks left by his blade. I glance down at my arm my hand is warm and sticky, covered with my own blood. Tentatively, I remove my hand from my injury to assess the damage. My stomach churns and I find myself mesmerized and dazed by the blood flowing freely from the deep cut. All thought leaves me as a wave of nausea washes over me. My head throbs with the light-headed notion that I could pass out here and now. I shake my head to clear it. Wondering how much blood I've lost in my plight to safety. Then I hear it again, the quiet sound that makes my blood pulse and my heart jump. The snapping of twigs underfoot causes my heart to skip a beat and my mind to escalate into a state of panic. The concern for my arm is long forgotten compared to my will to survive. I turn and run from the sound. I'm not even sure of which direction I run in and I don't really care either. All I know is that I must run. I have to get away from him. Sucking my breath in as I run as fast as I can. Blindly I pull branches from my face to escape the whip and cut they inflict. I look back over my shoulder to find the forest peering back at me with it's eerie dark eyes. Nearly screaming as I turn my head and stop myself from sliding down a steep hill. I struggle to hold my place on the crumbling edge of earth. Falling forward precariously when I receive a hard blow to my head. The ground reaches up to me with soiled hands and enfolds me amongst the foliage as I fall to my knees. Feeling the pain but unsure of how it is inflicted. I tumble down the steep hill. The pain shoots through my head to consume my thoughts. I crumple and roll to the bottom of the hill. My body lying amongst the rubble much like a broken doll. A deep groan spills from my lips as my limbs fall freely to my sides. I can barely hear the soft crunching sounds of his boots as he makes his way down the hill. He drops the rock that he used to stop my efforts to flee, and falls down to one knee looking at me with concern in his eyes. He whispers soft words against my ear that fail to stir me. "Why do you make me hurt you?" are the last words I hear. A tender touch against my temple beckons me to succumb to the darkness that surrounds us. ~ ~ ~ "Ah, I see you finally woke up." A soft voice whispers against my ear. I bristle upon hearing a male voice. I fight that place between waking and sleeping not quite sure that I wish to respond to that soft voice. A gentle thudding in my head begs me to sink back into slumber. Despite the urge to sleep, his words reach me and pull me from the dark murky depths of unconsciousness. My eyes flutter open with the sluggish waking of my senses. He prods me lightly, shaking my shoulder until I'm fully awake. I groan softly and squeeze my eyes shut tightly and then blink them open. The dim light of the room make it practically impossible for my eyes to focus. Fear rises in the pit of my stomach when reality works its way into the forefront of my mind. I have no idea who has been speaking to me. And I don't know where I am or how I got here. I search frantically for the owner of the voice. I barely hold back an exasperated cry when a familiar friend comes into focus. My vision clears as I stare up at him. I offer him a weak smile and a gush of words that flow from parched lips. "Oh Mike! Thank God you're here. Some crazy man was after me, and he was chasing me, and he cut me." Furrowing my brow as he looks down at me with almost a stone-cold glare. "Some crazy man?" he seethes down at me with a sinister smile. Screeching his metal stool across the concrete floor as he scoots closer to sit beside me. I quickly suck in my breath when I try to rise. Oh how my head aches and yet I know I must move. I'm just not quite sure how I'm going to do it. My mind slowly works over the idea that Mike is my attacker. I feel as if I'm numb and helpless, perhaps lost in a bad dream. I'm perfectly aghast at the realization that a trusted friend could do such a thing to me. Memories of all the times I'd jilted his sexual advances come back to mind with a startling effect. When I stretch and move I find myself in a vulnerable position. My breath stilling in my throat when I notice that I'm nude and strapped down to a cot with some sort of coarse rope. Wide emerald eyes shift toward my attacker. I jerk my limbs forward in an effort to sit up. "Why Mike you must have been a grade A boy scout to have tied me down so tight." I nearly spit my malicious words up to him. A low chuckle is all that he offers me in response to my deliberate goad. "Piss me off Angel and see what it gets you." I turn my head from him and that nasty comment. Groaning deeply with the throbbing pulses that ebb through my head. The memories flood my mind as I glance down at the stark white bandage on my arm. Noticing that it's marked with a blurry crimson stain. The air around me grows warm and all-consuming. I struggle to take in a nervous breath. My gaze riveted upon a person I once trusted. I become so aggravated with the shivering of my body, groaning softly with disgust. "What in the hell is going on? Why am I tied down Mike?" The shrill tone of my voice grows in terror when I see his lecherous grin. "This isn't fucking funny! Let me up!" He leans down just inches from my face. His dark eyes glitter with his intent. "If I were you, I'd shut my fucking mouth and be still bitch." His words gruff and deep are delivered in that same tone as my attacker. The quote chills me to my very core. He sneers down at me before he caresses my lower lip with his bottom lip. Dark eyes flash at me when he bites into my lower lip. I gently shake my head, whimpering and turning my face away from him. His warm breath cascades over my lips as he follows my movements intent on taking what he wants. My face contorts with the pain when he sinks his teeth into my lip and then suddenly releases it. Gentle emerald eyes tear and swell, delving into his hard gaze. I silently damn myself for the tears that spring into my eyes. I search his black orbs for any trace of the man I knew to be tender and kind. The silence yawns and gapes between us. The two of us seemingly lost in one another. I flinch as he brings his hand down across my cheek with a loud smack. His large hand covering the dainty flesh of my face. Proving that the tenderness I once knew is replaced by a brutal force. I cry out pitifully when I taste the familiar copper essence of my blood. Golden tresses spill over the side of the cot, exposing the angry red lines of his fingers imprinted upon my flesh. My body shaking with uncontrollable fear. "Oh my God, that was you in the forest." My quiet words seem far off and laced with the shock and disbelief of a person finally learning the truth about another. "Why are you doing this to me?" I ask. The pit of my stomach coils up tightly when he softly caresses my cheek. "Because I can Angel, and I will. I will do whatever I want and you will obey." his voice low and devious. I curl my hands around the sides of the cot, whimpering. Defiantly jerking my head away from him half in disgust and half in rebellion. My anger grows at what his words imply. The cot rises up from the floor when I yank my arms and legs up in a surge of rage. I growl up at him as he calmly run his fingers over the pink lines upon my cheek. He looks down at me as if I am his wayward child in need of punishment. I whip my head toward his hand with a guttural snarl. Rosy lips curl up over my teeth, quickly snapping them at him. Emerald eyes flash up at him when I try to bite him. In a lighting quick flash his hand grips my cheeks and squeezes. He pulls my face up within inches of his face. Baring his teeth as he leans down to whisper his threat against my throat. "I suggest you quit trying to defy my will. You will learn sweet one that I will do what I wish with you. Or you are going to start hating that cot and this room. If you fuck with me I will kill you. Be trained or die Angel. It's up to you." His low growl emanating through the room long after he speaks. I gasp and yelp with the violent release of his hand. His evil laughter imprinted forever in my mind. Every nerve in my body pulses and careens toward survival. I avert my eyes from him to search the room for any possible means of escape. With much dismay I notice the walls are neatly lined with whips and floggers of all different sizes and varieties. "My God this is a fucking dungeon." I croak to myself. Turning my eyes back up to him and trying my best to hide the fear that flows through them. His eyes gauge my nude form. I can almost feel his thoughts, tearing into me as he wishes to tear into my flesh. The hunger shines in his eyes and yet he doesn't move, not yet. I shift my hips uncomfortably upon the cot. Nearly sucking in my breath and holding it while pressing my legs together tightly in the universal symbol of holding back the need to use the restroom. And the lout all he does is cross his arms and smirk down at me. "What's the matter Angel?" he purrs. "Have you finally found yourself in a position you can't wriggle out of?" I groan at his reaction, the only thought flowing through my mind is that I should have fucked him over when I had the chance. And here I am trapped, tied down, and at his mercy. All because I didn't fuck him when we had dated before. Or does he seek something more? I allow my anger to simmer. My mind repeats the soothing words over and over, think smart Angel, think smart. "Um Mike? Can you let me up so I can use the bathroom?" I look up at him with silently pleading eyes. Startled, I jump with his sudden movement as he kicks his stool back to stand. My breath trapped within my lungs when I realize what he could do to me. I watch his slow smile as his dark eyes rake over my bound body. "I do so love you in this position Angel." he purrs. He gently trails the pad of his finger along the side of my thigh. Creeping his hand over my leg to press between the straining muscles of my upper thighs. "Why should I let you up? You will just try to run now won't you?" his tongue lightly clicks at me as he cups my cunt. My thoughts race and slip over the edge of sanity with the warmth of his hand. I wriggle into his touch much to my shock and dismay. I try desperately to cross my legs tighter to ward off his warming touch. Quiet words tumble from my lips in a soft plea. "No I won't run. I've got to go bad. Please let me up." Inching my hips back into the cot further when his fingers curl in-between my legs and dip into my moist pussy. He hooks his index finger in my cunt and pulls up gently. Those eyes of his gauge my every move and breath. And when I don't move he finally speaks.