The Irascible Matt Foxx (ch 5)

back by popular demand…another chapter of your favorite Dom-Sadist…previous chapter can be found here…

“You own all of this?”

She gestured, a wide-armed sweep of the deep woods. At his nod, she sighed. Wow. This was…amazing seemed such a lame adjective. Stupendous. Awesome. Okay, awesome was woefully overused, but hell, if you were going to overuse something, it might as well be a positive word, right?

And the grandeur was…breathtaking.

They’d been hiking for several hours, steadily heading up. Currently they stood on a rocky outcrop that overlooked the wilderness far below. They were not far away from leaving the tree line, really.

He’d said they weren’t peak-bagging today, that he had another destination in mind. Which was great because today was turning out to be one of those rare, strange days in Colorado, where the temperature was a wicked 92. That it was happening here in the Rockies, and not down on the plains was wild enough.  Add the intense sun, and you had a recipe for some serious sweat-a-thon.

She watched as an eagle rose on a thermal across the ridge. Master handed her his field glasses, and she took a moment to find the majestic creature.

A golden eagle.

Her first!

She followed his fast rise on the coiling thermal rush of air, reflecting out loud, the awe of this experience.

“oh Master…so …glorious. So…” Her voice broke as she turned shining eyes on him. “Thank You.”

“Lucky girl,” he said, watching the emotions running on her expressive face. “Not every day we can catch one of those beauties.”

He opened his canteen, took a swallow. She watched, enraptured, as one drop slid from his mouth, tracing its quicksilver path down his throat, to be absorbed by his cotton tee.

She rose to tiptoes, and followed that same path with her tongue.

“Cheeky slut!” He laughed, then cupping her head with his big hands, kissed her hard.  “lets keep going.”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“duh.”

“i know, You’re the Master, i’m the slave, slut and follower here, but …”

She sighed dramatically, then cast a provocative, sidelong glance at him.  “i’d really like to rest a bit.”

The emphasis on that word let him know it was not rest she was after, and he barked out a fast laugh. “Slut. walk.”

She gave him another of those sultry, sly glances, but he pointed forward, and she turned and followed the path.

***

After another 30 minutes of hiking, down a bit, up a bit, down a lot, they came to their destination.

They stepped through the dense trees, following a path that was barely visible at times, and into wonderland.

The waters cascaded with a sweet soft music. The air was much cooler in this little glen, and she shed her pack quickly.

“Can i go in, Master?” He nodded, amused, as she shucked shoes, doffed socks, and peeled shorts, panties, and tee-shirt with wild abandon. Clothing littered the soft moss around the bank in short order, and she squealed like a kid as she stepped gingerly into the rushing mountain stream.

“So cold!” she shouted to him, as he stood on the bank watching with amusement. She cavorted in the pool  like a wood nymph, the cold water pearling her nipples into hard little rocks.  He imagined the taste of them, the cool wetness of them in his mouth, the rigid nub sucked between his teeth. He imagined too, that she would quickly go from cold to hot, melting onto him like honey soaked chocolate.

He watched her, knowing this image would burn in his mind until he could paint her, arms extended in the air, water cascading from her opened palms, exulting in her freedom, her sexuality.

Slowly he stripped, while he mentally painted the scene, mixing colors in his mind; the soft peach of her skin, the blue of her eyes, the light dashing across her nose, her left breast, her upturned fingers. The dappled yellow glow shifting through the dancing trees cast molten coins of light on the surface of the small pool. They danced and shattered as he stepped into the water.

He drew her to him, and bit her nipple; it was as hard, as moist as he had imagined it would be. He gathered her hands behind her in one of his own, while the other explored her water-glistened body, twirling down her belly, tickling into her little buttonhole, before trailing down to the vee where her thighs joined in mystery.

Even before he entered that cleft, he felt the heat. She was so fucking hot! His fingers burned as they slid down those wet folds, as her thighs parted and he found the entry he sought. So wet. So hot. So ready.

He pulled her from the pool by her nipple. She winced, praying she didn’t slip on the rocks as she scrambled her way up the banking. He led her to where two young aspens crisscrossed into an X.

“Stay.”

She heard the sadist in that tone. She trembled, and felt her pussy ignite. He could do that to her, with one, simple word. Like she was a dog, or a pony…told to remain in place until he returned. And like a well-trained pet, she stood.

Behind her, she could hear him unzipping his pack, and the clatter and bang of things falling out of it. In moments he was back, carrying, rather incongruously,  pink bondage tape.  He wrapped one wrist to one trunk, high enough that she was nearly on tip-toe. Then the other received the same. She felt the slight movement of the trees. Young enough to be some flexible…but old enough to not give completely under her pull.

The first blow on her ass came as a caress of sorts. The flogger slapped gently across her cheek, a little stingy, a little sensual. She needed to be fucked and now the beast was tormenting her.

“Master, please…” she entreated him.

She heard his wicked laugh, and realized her mistake. She had meant…but there was no time to correct as he flogged her ass, her hips, her legs. Ohgawd it hurt, it hurt so bad. So good.

She felt her pussy oozing down her thighs.

“Spread your legs, slut.”

She didn’t want that. No she surely didn’t. He’d yet to seriously flog her cunt, but apparently this was the end of that little respite.

She spread.

“More.”

She stepped farther apart, and winced, waiting. A green-fly buzzed by her face, and she watched it zigzag through the underbrush.

Nothing.

The whine of a mosquito in her ear made her groan. Water nearby, and not so much sun meant a few renegade skeeters wouldn’t wait until dusk to arrive at the feast spread here.

And still there was  nothing behind her.

She took a chance, and glanced over her shoulder. She couldn’t believe it. He sat on a rock, looking at her, eating a sandwich. He had that look on his face. That look.

“M-master?”

“Yes?” He drawled at her, his cheek bulging with the last bites, looking like nothing so much as a sensual chipmunk. She smiled at that thought.

“May i have lunch, too?”

He tucked the last of the sandwich into his mouth, pulling the finger out with an audible ‘pop’.

“nope.”

She frowned at him as he rose, taking up a thin rod. Where the fuck was the flogger?

“Nice view to eat lunch to, slut,” he remarked as he stroked his hand down her reddened flanks. “very nice, indeed. I should paint this. Nymph, captured. Or something like that. Hang it in the front room where I give interviews.”

“You don’t give interviews, Master,” she reminded him. “Only to me, and only because of  Leon.”

“I might have to change that policy…after I paint that picture…”

He laughed, then popped the cane across her left thigh. She arched to her toes, gasping.

“MASTER! OW!”

He laughed. “Supposed to ‘ow’….me like…” and he nailed her thigh several more times before striking her lovely rounded ass.

He grabbed her by her wet and tousled hair, yanking her head back and growling into her ear…”Master likes hurting you, my little fucktoy. Master likes very, very much.”

The growl, the hot breath of him, the fist in her hair ignited her. Her pussy pulsed with need, a sharp counterpoint to the throbbing of her ass and thighs.

He lifted her by her hips, taking her feet from the ground as she scrambled to hold onto the trunks as he plunged into her hard from behind.

He was every bit the artist with his cock, his hands, his mouth, that he was with a paintbrush, she thought, later, as they lay in a tangle of limbs on the cool moss of the glade. Taken, possessed, used, wood nymph being royally fucked. Yes, she could certainly picture that!

10 thoughts on “The Irascible Matt Foxx (ch 5)

  1. Ah yes… nothing as fun as an outdoor fuck. About the only thing you left out was an echo of her “ow!” bouncing off the canyon walls to taunt her.

    And don’t ask how I know about echos… Nope. Not going there… But, they are very common up in those Colorado hills.

    If you need more pics, let me know. Got lots. Some even with a semi-nude nymph in them. LOL

    1. oh…echo’s…i forgot about that coz we don’t have many echo places up here, so it’s out of my purview of knowledge…but it’s now been ferreted away in my brain…and i’ll take you up on the offer of pix, once i decide where the next chapter will be set. Thanks Roze!

      nilla

    1. LOL….well, isn’t that a fine compliment, setting a scene that goes on a subsisters bucket list? ! Awesome!

      thanks lm!

      nilla

    1. Thanks aisha. That is actually, to be totally honest? A waterfall from the east coast. It looks a lot like ones from the white mountains, but its from the Shenandoah area. Next chapter, i’m going to use one of Roze’s pics…*grins*

      Tho i’ve never had sex in one of those mountain waterfalls/pools, i have froliced in one nekkid….

      nilla

    1. Thank you Sir…what a lovely compliment. And i thank you for taking the time every day to write. I appreciate that!

      nilla

  2. Now I know what I like about the great outdooors. All this time I’ve been fishing and hunting, time for a change..Hey young lady, want to go camping? Tip

    1. *laughs*

      first, i’m not all that young a lady…second, i’m not sure i’m really a lady…(laughs–unless the lady is a tramp??!!)…and third…nilla LOVES camping.

      *wink*

      n

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