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Scrumping part 2 *Fictional erotica*

Recommend part 1 should be read first! 
Click here for part 1 

Ok sorry I am being slow at this, I have written another chunk now, so I thought I'd share it even though it might be a bit rough and unedited. (It could also use some good art... any volunteers to come pose for me in the role of Laura? ;) )

Scrumping part 2


A strange calm fell over Laura as the stranger forced her down a thin path that led deeper into the orchard. Adrenaline still buzzed all her senses, but having accepted her punishment she was resigned to it, and something within her throbbed in confused excitement.

Laura let herself be controlled by the firm hands that held her wrists and pushed her forward,

There was something rock like about this man, maybe it was his confidence, or his sternness, but it inspired fear and trust in equal measure.

A tumbled down barn appeared through the trees. It was surrounded by the detritus of rural life; piles of logs for the fire, various tools including an axe planted in a heavy log, and a long deceased tractor rusting silently amongst tangled weeds. Laura paused momentarily, taking in the scene, but the stranger pushed her forward roughly with a brisk pace that made her worry she would lose her balance. Saliva was collecting around the apple wedged in her mouth and swallowing felt strange and awkward.

The stranger forced Laura inside the barn, although she did not know his name she no longer thought of him as a stranger, internally she had named him “the apple man”, a title that to her demanded reverence despite its absurdity.

In the barn there was a rich smell of fermenting apples, tempered with the musty odour of sawdust and linseed oil. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light Laura could see a large cider press occupying one corner of the barn and a number of wooden barrels, which were stacked against the walls. The apple man pushed her forward to where a big barrel lay on it’s side; wedged in place by various small boxes and a big wooden column that reached up into the beams of the barn’s cavernous ceiling. Once he had positioned her in front of the barrel the apple man stopped and released her hair. He reached up and grabbed a coil of rope from where it was hanging amongst the rafters.

Looking back at him Laura knew that this might be her last chance to run. She wanted to ask “What are you going to do to me?” But with her tongue trapped beneath the apple all she could manage was something sounding like “Ommgn omm uomm...” Before she gave up. For some reason the idea of spitting out the apple didn’t even occur to her, she was so transfixed by the apple man as he ran two parallel strands of rope through his hands, deftly producing a single loop.

“Arms out in front of you”

Wordlessly she presented her arms, palms facing towards each other, and the apple man passed his loop of rope over them. He tightened it down and then began to wrap the ropes around her wrists, slowly coiling up her arms like a python as she tensed against the hard, scratchy fibres. After some further twists and threading of the rope between her wrists the apple man tightened the cords and tied a final knot.

Laura wriggled her hands as if to prove to herself they really were tied, in case this was all a strange and thrilling illusion. The ropes held fast. In the cool of the barn Laura could feel the sweat evaporating from the skin of her arms, and yet she was running hot with a fire she didn’t fully understand.

Holding the rope that trailed from her arms the apple man pulled her forward with a jerk then spun her around so she was facing the barrel. Placing his hand in the small of her back he pushed her forward and as her bare legs caught against the wood in front of her her body had nowhere to go but down. She draped herself over the dark oak staves and the barrel felt very solid as Laura balanced her elbows on it, (she suspected it was full of cider, and she liked cider… Maybe he would let her have some?)

Her attention was quickly drawn back to the ropes around her wrists as the apple man stepped in front of her and began securing the ends of the rope to the sturdy oak column against which the barrel was resting. Her paths of escape dwindling Laura made no move to resist, in fact she almost welcomed the certainty of the hard wood and tight rope, but her heart beat fast in her chest nevertheless. The apple man produced more rope and walked behind her. Laura kept facing forward as he bent down to slip more strands around one of her ankles. A strange feeling of total exposure crept up her legs, over her ass, and across back. It was almost like a tingling sensation, but rooted in something deeper, and it was only then that she noticed the intense wetness in her cunt.

The apple man tied her second ankle. She gasped through her apple gag as he pulled on the rope and separated her legs by a significant angle.

With all her limbs bound Laura was now helpless. That tingling feeling of exposure intensified and she realised she was trembling. She tugged against her new restraints, trying to move right, left, backwards, or forwards, but she was thwarted in every direction.

“Struggle all you like” said the apple man, calmly, “there’s no escaping your punishment now.”

She pulled on the ropes harder nonetheless; there was something exhilarating and terrifying about her predicament that drove her to struggle, and feel the tough rope dig into her skin, and the hard wood of the barrel rub against her body. All she could do was turn her head a little and watch over her shoulder as the apple man walked to the wall and lifted a mean looking whip out of the gloom.

*

To be continued... here! (I know, I'm such a tease)
 

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