Everyone was asking how it felt to be home again. To my family I faked a smile and said that I was happy to see them again, to friends I brushed it off as “a bit shit but I’ll pull through”, but the truth was that the idea of this being my “home” made me nauseous.

This house and this town had always felt suffocatingly small. Having escaped it all once only to be dragged back again made the whole thing even more difficult to swallow. Having spent over a year in my own flat where I had total freedom (I could pass out drunk on the bathroom floor, I could bring back whoever I wanted, could be as loud as I wanted) I had almost forgotten how awful it was under my parent’s roof.

My first morning waking up alone in that single bed again, I found myself emerging very reluctantly from a dream. A series of hazy erotic images of a man in that single bed with me as I rub myself desperately. I would drift almost but not quite awake enough to touch myself then slip back into a dream of a man pounding me from behind as I play with my clit. All the while I can hear all too clearly the chatter of my parents in the kitchen downstairs, their proximity always far too present in my mind and keeping me always a little too far from the release that seemed to become more and more important.

When I finally pulled myself out from all levels of the erotic nightmare, I was exhausted and frustrated and dripping wet. I had chased that orgasm through hell and had nothing to show for it. I needed to get out of that house.

Without even taking the time to shower I pulled on some clothes and left the house with just a “going out” shouted in the vague direction of my parents.


I walked with a determined purpose into the trees and the wilderness behind them. It felt like if I stopped walking I would scream or cry so I kept going until my legs were aching so much it felt like I might collapse.  

I walked until I was on the edge of being lost, as far as I could get from that house. I could have been miles from any house. Taking a deep breath, I lay down on the slightly damp earth. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the trees. I pulled up the skirt of my dress a little way to feel the warmth on my thighs.

For a moment I just listened to the noises of the woods, the wind and the birds. I just enjoyed the distance I put between me and my parents. Then I relaxed and let the dreams come back to me.

I imagined strong hands on my thighs, pulling my legs apart. Thick fingers pushing into me, sliding easily into my wetness. It wasn’t long before I felt my orgasm building. I rubbed myself as gently as I could bear, not wanting it to all be over too soon. I could almost feel my imagined stranger holding me down and pounding me.

That was when I opened my eyes for a moment and spotted him. Just a little way off but with a clear view of me. It’s possible that if I hadn’t been waiting for this for so long then I might have stopped but I didn’t stop, not even for a second. The man smiled at me and I opened my legs a little more so he could get an even better view of my glistening cunt and my fingers rubbing my clit. He smiled and nodded to encourage me.

The man was tall and strong, not in the way that male models look strong, but like a man who has a real strength that has been built up from needing to use it. His clothes were worn and this hair had grown out and fell in messy curls. Around that smirk he wore as he watched me was an untrimmed beard.

I could see his cock straining against his jeans. With my eyes, I begged him to take it out. I wanted desperately to watch him spray cum while watching me. He had so much control.

He gave me one more nod and my moans echoed off the trees around me as my whole body shook with the force of my orgasm. I tried to keep my eyes open. I wanted to watch him watch me fall apart. But it was so strong that I couldn’t.

I lay in the dirt and the leaves as I came down from it. When I looked up he was out of earshot, walking the other way in no hurry but taking large strides.

After such a long wait and build up my orgasm had felt so powerful and I was exhausted. I wanted to run after him and beg him to fuck me senseless but I let him walk away.


It had been a while since I had made my quick exit from the quaint prison cell I had somehow landed myself in, so I brushed as much of the woods of myself as I could and started the long walk back.  

“Where the fuck is she?” I heard my father shout as I walked up to the back door of the house.

“How should I know?” My mother almost screamed the words at him.

How long had they been shouting over my absence? I felt sick as I opened the door. The fact that anyone would feel the need to always know where I was made my eyes fill up with hot angry tears.

“Hi” I called hesitantly. My mother appeared in the hallway instantly.

“Sweetie,” she said, “where have you been?”

“I just went for a walk,” I said “I’m going to go have a shower”

“Okay sweetie,” she said to me then called back to my father “she went for a walk”

I couldn’t stay downstairs with them so I locked the bathroom door and ran the hot tap, I was going to be in there for a while.

The light summer dress was covered in dirt from the forest floor. I shook it off and brushed the loose dirt off my legs too. Laying there, I had gotten quite sweaty and the dirt and leaves had clung to me. Not to mention how the hair between my legs was still dripping with the lust I had built up.

I lowered myself into the almost too hot water and instantly relaxed. The steam rose up from the water, I cupped my hands and poured a handful of water over my face to wash away the beads of sweat that the steam had produced. Picking up a little bottle of soap, I smelled the contents and the floral scent filled my nose. I rubbed a small amount between my hands and the white gel foamed up. Covering my small breasts with the velvety foam, the smell filled the whole bathroom. I continued to cover myself in bubbles, paying extra attention to rubbing the soap through my pubic hair.

I thought about my woodland man. Everything about him made a flash of arousal shoot through my stomach. Most of all it was his strength and his control. He could take me by force, hold me down and fuck me no matter how much I struggled. But he could tell how badly I needed him so he restrained himself. He tried to tease me and he succeeded. I was even more frustrated than I was that morning.


Once the bath water got too cold I realised that I couldn't sulk in the bath all night. I wrung out my hair, wrapped myself in a towel, and walked downstairs to make a cup of tea.

I stared at the kettle as the water bubbled more and more, waiting impatiently for it to come to the boil and click off. Holding the towel in place with one hand, I poured the water slowly and heaped in the sugar.

Then I heard the back door open into the kitchen and my father entered.

“Thank you so much for dropping by,” he said before turning to me and saying in an aggressive but quiet voice “why do you have to fucking walk around like that?”

I was about to turn and make an attempt to defend myself but I heard a laugh that sent a shiver through my centre. It was a low gravelly chuckle with an echo of something familiar. I was almost unsurprised when I turned to see him. It was the man who had watched me and made me feel so much with just a nod of his head, the man who I needed so badly to close the space between us.

“I’m Ian” he held out his hand to me. His voice was just what I had imagined it would be and he smiled at me with that same knowing composure that he had earlier that day.

I struggled to keep control. Overwhelmed by the idea of touching him, here in front of my father. I fumbled to swap the hand I was using to hold up my towel then gently placed my hand in his. He squeezed me with his hand, it was tanned and rough from years of working outdoors.

“Violet” I replied, concentrating as hard as I could on making sure the word came out at the right pitch.

“Ian lives in the cottage north of here, just through the woods,” my father said as I tried my best not to stare “he’s going to be doing some work on the house for us, so you’ll be seeing him around a lot these next few days”

Suddenly being at home didn’t feel so bad any more. This beautiful bear of a man would be hanging around. My heart fluttered thinking of what might happen if I could get him alone. Under the towel, I could feel my nipples getting hard and sensitive pressing against the fabric and my pussy getting wet all over again. I was nervous that it would drip down my leg a little too far and they would be able to see.

“You have a beautiful daughter,” Ian said to my father. I smiled politely and thought this moment best to leave.

From the hall my father had his back to me and Ian had a clear view so I took my chance. My opportunity to try and tease him the way he was teasing me. I let my towel fall open for a moment. I exposed everything from my small perky breasts to the soft curls between my legs.

From his face you never would have known, he kept control. But he did give me a subtle wink so show his appreciation.  


I didn’t sleep much that night. All I could do was dream up fantasies involving Ian. Almost exactly I could build his voice inside my head. Over and over that night I imagined him, in that deep gravelly voice, commanding me to cum for him.

That morning I was out of bed unusually early. There was a nervousness fluttering about in my chest, possibly a sort of excitement. I had spent hours thinking about him slipping his fingers into me at risky moments so I wore a short skirt to have the best chance of it happening. After dressing I went downstairs to wait hopefully for Ian to arrive.

I settled into a seat at the kitchen table with a good view of the back garden and the path out of the woods that I assumed he would take from his cottage. For a while, I tried to read but I was too distracted so after a few minutes I just pretended to.

At about 9:30 he emerged from the trees. I tried not to turn and look too suddenly, though he was sure to know that I was waiting for him. I assumed that he could know everything about me by just looking at me, the way he smiled told me that.

There was no haste in his movements, he walked with heavy purposeful strides. With him he carried a large tool box and two tins of paint but the way he moved made it look like they weighed nothing. Could he have carried that all the way through the woods?

He walked all the way up to the back door without either of my parents showing up. I think my father was watching TV in the living room and my mother was in town. The realisation that we were about to be alone together suddenly dawned on me. He let himself in and gave me that signature smile again.

“Morning,” he said without breaking eye contact.

“Hey” was all I could manage at first but I needed to bring the conversation further, all I could think to say was something along the lines of begging him to bend me over the table and fuck me until I cry but I went with “how’re you?”

He didn’t even get a chance to reply before my father strode into the room with a newspaper under his arm greeting Ian then going straight into instructing Ian on what he wanted him to do that day.

When my father left the room, Ian took the chance to hang back for a few seconds. Just long enough for him to come over to me and whisper “you’re trying to tease me in that skirt”. He placed his hand on my thigh, with a softness that I didn’t think his large paws would be capable of. His fingertips just brushed against my hair and then was removed suddenly. I struggled to not groan or beg.

Then he was gone, following my father and discussing bottom coats as if nothing had happened. It took all the restraint I had not to push my fingers into my cunt right there but I wanted to play his game. To be his play thing. I wanted to do it right.


I went up into my room to try and recover my poise. It didn’t work but I did figure out what my next move would be. I was going to let him know that I was his, that I wanted to play the game his way. I was not at all intimidated by how he dominated every interaction we had, I wanted to submit to it.

From my bedroom, I listened carefully to the old house and the people in it. My father was in the next room with Ian, still chatting about what he wanted him to do with the space. There was also a lot of noise of furniture being moved around so I couldn’t quite clearly hear the voices.

Once I heard footsteps going down the stairs I waited a few minutes and moved quietly into the hall. Ian had started working, stripping the wallpaper. He used a machine that seemed to be making hot steam to loosen the paper and then he scraped at it, taking it off in large strips. I thought that he was oblivious to my presence, that maybe he didn’t hear my footsteps over the sound of the steamer, but he could feel my gaze.

He flipped the off switch and without turning around said, “can I help you?”

I was startled but didn’t back away. Instead, I took a few steps towards him. He turned to face me and, without any change in his expression, gestured with his hand for me to come even closer. Obviously, I obeyed. How could I do anything else?

Without touching he pulled me towards him until he had me at arm’s length. Then he held just the tips of his fingers against my chest to keep me in place there.

“You want me?” He whispered but it was almost not a question, it was clear that I wanted him. I needed him, pathetically and desperately.

I nodded.

“Say it.” he smiled but there was a hint of something darker in his eyes.

“I want you” my voice broke slightly under the pressure “I want you. I want to be yours. Play with me. Use me”

His smile got a little bit wider, that was what he wanted to hear. Yet he still stared at me expectantly, there was something more.

It dawned on me “please” I pleaded. “Please,” I said, more carefully this time “please use me”.

He pressed the full expanse of his hand on my chest, my skin felt almost too hot under his touch, then he dragged his fingertips along my shoulder and down my arm. With that one hand on my arm, he pulled me close so that I could feel his breath on my ear, making me shiver and causing little lightning flashes of arousal to shoot through me with every word.

“You’ll be a good slut for me?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“You’ll do whatever I say, only get to feel pleasure when I say, and be grateful for it?” I didn't know I could feel so close to cumming with just a voice.

“Yes,” I said, using all my control not to beg for release.

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