Cut To The Chase

It was a fine evening, about 9pm, just coming on to dusk and a slight chill setting into the air. It would also have been idylically peaceful if it wasn't for the muted grumble of motorway traffic roaring through a cutting nearby, but then the motorway played a role in our visits to that particular spot.

We were walking across an open field adjacent to a small car park, now empty save for ours. This field and the adjacent ones are a corner of a larger public open space now chopped in two by the motorway. Most users of the spot gravitated to the larger portion, leaving this area to a few locals walking their dogs and the amateur football teams hacking each other on Saturday afternoons on the rough pitches marked out on the nearest field. Small wooded breaks separate the three main fields and there are some other odd open spaces left by the incursions of 19th and 20th century civil engineering crashing through fields unconstrained by the ancient boundaries.

From her point of view it gives that ideal mix of access, isolation and just small chance of being interrupted while she indulges in her little games. Personally I'd prefer a ten foot wall around it in which we had the only door key.

She had an arm around me as we walked, stroking and caressing, her other hand touching herself lightly, unconsciously from time to time. I wondered what, in particular, she had in mind this time. There was enough variation in our activities to keep me guessing. I could feel that there wasn't all that much in the bag she'd given me to carry.

We walked through each field in turn arriving eventually at the motorway boundary fence. Some of the cars rushing through the cutting below had turned on their lights, but away from the glare it was still quite light. We had passed no-one on the way.

Her excitement was building. She dew me to her and kissed me full and deep. Her fingers crept inside my mac and frigged me gently. As we returned through the deserted fields she held me tight to her, her little plaything in her strange games.

By the time we returned to the first field we knew that we had the place to ourselves, unless someone had got lost in the gathering gloom in the adjacent tracts of overgrown woodland. The wooded break between the first two fields was on a slight rise and we could see the quarter mile or so back to the car park. A solitary fat man with a small white dog was wandering aimlessly about clearly reluctant to move more than a few yards from his car. She turned to me and kissed me lightly.

"Get your clothes off, darling." She took the bag from me and pulled a small nylon holdall from it. "I'll hold your mac. Everything else goes in there."

Reluctantly I slipped off my mac and gave it to her. The evening air struck cold against my skin and I shivered as I stripped off. I stopped when the more straightforward components had been removed and I stood there in panties and wellington boots hoping that this might be sufficient.

"I said everything, darling: that's going to cost you something extra."

I tucked my socks inside the boots and added my panties to the holdall, which she took off me. She left me shivering while she put my boots in a dark green bin-liner, knotted it and dropped it behind a convenient bush. Then she turned back to me.

"I though you were getting a bit out of condition, darling, so you're going to have a little jog."

"I can't go running like this," I hissed.

"Of course not. You can have these...." she produced a pair of cheap black canvas slip on sneakers from her bag and dropped them in front of me. I quickly slipped them on. The grassless path felt uncomfortably slimy to my bare feet.

".....and this."

My stomach lurched at the sight. "No, please, don't make me run wearing that" I whimpered. I loathe gasmasks; the claustrophobic constriction, the fight to draw breath, the cloying smell of rubber. My discomfort served only to increase her excitement, as usual.

As she forced it on my face my world was suddenly blinkered, squeezed in to two round portholes. All sounds overlaid with the sucking sound of air being drawn in and the wet flap of the valves opening and closing. Smell reduced to the single theme of musty rubber overlaid with the vinegary tang of the defogging agent smeared on the eye pieces.

As she tightened the straps she whispered in my ear, as if it was an intimate little secret we shared "This one's got locking straps, darling, so there'll be no slipping it off when you're out of my sight. There's just the break link *here*.." she lifted my hand to touch a twisted thin wire link "....so you can get it off in an emergency. But if you touch that I'm going to string you up and skin you, so don't touch it. I'd hate to have to really hurt you."

She was rubbing me more vigorously now, and nibbling at me, my mouth being presently inaccessible. "But before you go there's the little matter of not stripping off when I told you to."

A neatly applied straight arm lock bent me forward and I gave a muffled yelp as she slapped my bottom hard. She repeated this several more times, each hard and lingering, stroking and fingering me in between. By the time she let me up again my buttocks were burning and I was sweating slightly despite to cool evening air.

"I think nine minutes would be a good target. Off you go." And with a final vigorous slap on my bottom she sent me off back towards the motorway cutting.

I ran hard, or as hard as I dared with my vision severely restricted by the mask and the fast falling dusk. Fortunately the path through the next tree belt is very wide and the lights from the motorway make the route easy to see. By the time I reached the perimeter fence, though, I was breathing very heavily, desperately trying to suck enough air through the restricting filters. My run back was slowed by my laboured breathing efforts and by the deepening darkness within the tree belt. I just concentrated on the patch of lighter grey where the trees ended. As I emerged into the middle field a brief flash of green torchlight gave me a fix to run to.

She was waiting for me at the next tree belt but grabbed my hand and pulled me. Still running, through that line of trees back to where I had started.

"Ten and a half minutes, that was truly dreadful," she chided me as I bent over wheezing and straining to draw breath. "Obviously you need something more to buck you up."

She pulled me upright by my hair. "Stand up straight when I'm talking to you, darling. This is for your own good." She reached towards me and a sharp pain blossomed on my left nipple. I mewed in distress as she attached lightly weighted clamps to both nipples and stuck them down with surgical tape.

"How does that feel, darling?" She was nibbling at me again and fingering me with a certain urgency. "Will a little pain make you run for me?"

She slapped at my thighs and gave me little pinches around my belly. Her other hand curled around me, sliding fingers in deep while her right hand laid on a few more resounding slaps on my bottom. I could hear her sharp exhales of delight at each slap and her warm breath gusting over my back. Then I was off again, stumbling in near darkness, trying to keep a straight path through to the middle field and on towards the strongest patch of flickering light breaking through the final belt of trees from the motorway.

The pain in my nipples from the bounce of the weights was intense by the time I reached the boundary, and I was feeling slightly dizzy from the effort of breathing against the resistance of the gasmask. I could have turned back short, but I though she might well move to keep nearer me. I also knew she posessed a pair of image intensifying binoculars.

She had come nearer as the green light flashed through the tree belt to allow me to locate the pathway through. The same sign brought me once again back to the start.

I flinched from the light as she shone a low powered torch through the eyepieces. She wanted to see the supplication in my eyes. I clung to her trying to heave the breath into my lungs, but she slipped downwards and buried her face between my legs. The sensation of her vigorous oral work was heighten by the slight anoxia induced by the restriction of the gasmask and I felt my self irresistably jerking and twitching under her ministrations. So she stopped and gave my nipples another tweak.

"Oh no, not yet darling, you haven't earned that yet. Pain before pleasure sweetens the dish."

She gave my nipples another twist and the strength of my howls scattered droplets off the rivulets of sweat running down the inside of the mask. "I can see that I'll have to give you a helping hand while you run to get a real effort out of you."

A searing pain erupted on my left buttock. "Do like this little switch, darling? I cut it while you were having your gentle jog. Now let's *run*"

She grabbed my hand and dragged me off down the path. As we left the confines of the trees she let go and fell in behind me, swiping me now and then with the switch. I could hear her laughing as I jumped at each cut and squealed my muted protests.

I was running quite blind, trusting her to direct me and at the appropriate moment she grabbed my hand and kept me careering forward through the utter blackness of the trees before resuming her attentions in the pallid glare arcing upwards from the motorway cutting, round and back again.

Eyes closed, blood thundering in my ears, I was running like an automaton until she pulled me to halt. My knees were buckling and she lowered me down. Instead of the wet grass I felt the slightly damp lining of my mac where she'd laid it earlier.

She ripped the key link apart and pulled the mask off me. As I drew in a huge breath of gorgeous cool air she clamped her mouth over mine and I emptied her breath into me. We shared the acid kick, jerking in unison.

Moments later her skirt was hitched up as she squatted over my face and clamped her mouth on me. My hoarse whoops as I tried to draw breath and climax together, while she thrust and ground into my face scattered the roosting birds from the trees........

We limped back across the field to the car, leaning on each other. She would bury her face in the damp rubber mask from time to time, drink in the sweaty aroma, push my face into it, giggling...laughing....

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RRW

RRW

 

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