 |
By *renz OP Man
over a year ago
Between Chichester and Havant |
As a species we rarely look up. That should be addressed. Especially today. The frost still on the ground, the brilliant sunshine landing on those long legs, I can see you looking, left and right, occasionally over your shoulder, but never up. You were dressed as told, tartan mini, white blouse showing off your cleavage and I'd allowed a warm coat, although it had to be open. No underwear too, although I couldn't see whether that was the case from my perch. High heels. You looked totally out of place for your surroundings. You were. A forestry track, not the best place for high heels. Or a mini skirt. Not in November, certainly. At least the track was hard, built for heavy machinery to access the woodland. As you passed below me, I jumped from my hiding place, a gasp from you, in surprise? Fear mayby? Picking myself up, I smiled at the look on your face as you turned, before seeing you smile at me. That smile!
I praised you for your attire, following my instructions, but wanted to make sure, asking you to lift the tartan. You had, but then I knew you would, you like to show your body off, expose it when you can. You will certainly have that opportunity today, if only for me.
I led you off the main track, a deer path, the ground softer, so I told you to remove your heels and walk barefoot. We pushed through into a clearing. A clearing I knew was there, one I had prepared earlier. Two hazel stands, two limbs of which I had bent and tied into a rough St Andrews cross. I had attached rope at the appropriate heights, ready for you. As you saw it, that smile played across your lips, impish, knowing and wanton.
I told you to remove your clothes and to step up to the cross, you did so eagerly, still with that smile. That smile that melts me, but I so need to remove from your face right now! I tie the rope around your wrists and your ankles, your arms and legs spread making you the perfect X. |
