By Invitation

by Zephyr

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© Copyright 2020 - Zephyr - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; blackmail; bond; cuffs; rope; tease; sex; public; hum; outdoors; chains; extreme; gag; nc; reluct; XX

Continues from

Part 3

Things settled down into what seemed like an almost recognizable pattern - the way things were when they were dating except that things went Scott's way if he wanted. When I would start to protest all he had to do was ask me if I wanted to help him pick out the first few pictures he would post and I fell back into obedient line.

Still, there were benefits. Playing with yourself was fun and good but nothing beats the genuine article. We did a lot of that -- to be honest more often than I would have preferred given a choice which I wasn't. Not that it was bad. He was considerate as always and if I didn't have at least one O it wasn't for a lack of willingness on his part or trying. A lot of it was just sex and companionship and doing more of things that I had willingly and happily done when we were dating. And it was nice to have someone to bail you out when you ran short of money or who would come bring you a key when you locked yours in your car. 

He insisted I dress what he called "better" at all times: short skirts and shorts and lighter tops a lot instead of the t-shirts and jeans I preferred to wear. If I wore jeans I’d better be damn near topless. He told me he preferred for me to pick out and wear nice things but if he didn't like what he saw he freely identified what I was to wear the next day which may have pleased him (and normally a lot of the other males around) but not me. But what could I do? I didn't like it but what could I do?

Actually, it wasn't so bad. I knew I had a nice figure. I got plenty of looks and the occasional compliments. What I wore did almost always look good on me. Sexy stylish was fine with him. Some of it showed me off to more advantage that I was happy about. But he only once in a while forced me into tart mode which made it bearable. Despite myself I got used to it.

We both had our own places. He had a house by himself in the suburbs near the school with a nice pool in the back yard and a nice high brick fence surrounding it. With high walls it was an extension of indoors and I felt as free around the pool as I did inside.

There were times that were harder than others. At his house on his bed were most of them. When we were dating he had attached handcuffs to the outside edges of the headboard and had ropes near the bottom with loops for my ankles. When I slept over there we both of course slept in the nude and there were nights I would be woken up in the middle of the night by him stretching one wrist out to the upper corner where the waiting handcuff would be closed around it, then he would roll me on my back so he could stretch the other wrist out to meet the other handcuff. Flat on my back and already naked he could tie my ankles apart if he wished or just start to play. When we were dating he did it a bit but I was perfectly willing to please him, didn't mind at all being restrained, and he always would do what he could to make sure I had a good time. Or he just let me sleep (or pretend to sleep) through whatever he was doing (if I could). Yes, I was dating a sex maniac, as one of my girlfriends told me, but there were advantages to that especially when you liked being tied up and had moments of sex maniac yourself. These days there were times he would let me know I was going to be spending the night at his house and unless I had some real good reason I didn't argue.

Sometimes we just slept, naked of course. Sometimes he tied me up or cuffed me on the bed and played with me all he wanted to. Some unhappy times he left me tied up and stretched out while we both fell asleep, even all night. I’d wake up to feel me naked and someone (him) climbing between my open legs or even already plunging into me and realize I was already stretched out and naked and helpless (and a little sore from being stuck in the same position all night) but I was right where he wanted me and he didn’t care and I was tied up.

Other times he would do the “wake me up by stretching wrists toward handcuffs” thing. What was warm, fun and fuzzy while we were dating had a distinctive feel these days. It was cold and scary to suddenly wake up, realize you were naked and in a bed with a male who was stretching you out to tie you up and have sex with you; knowing you had no voice, no veto in the matter at all. You just had to let it happen. Be tied up, licked, played with, screwed, then finally allowed to go back to sleep. It was a rare occasion when I enjoyed myself too. Consideration was a consideration when we were dating but not so much here.

It wasn't horribly bad. Like most women I could enjoy being the object of a very hard male's fervent desires. It's just that now when I woke up to the feeling of my wrist being pulled upward and outward, where I might once have considered whether to complain and push back I now just stayed silent and let whatever was going to happen proceed. Yeah, I screwed up and this is what I get: Tied up and screwed. It wasn't horrible, he wasn't rough and didn't hurt me (just used me), but it was not consensual at all.

But there was one very bad situation. I mean it started out really bad but it ended ok. But it was scary in the early stages.

It started about a month or two in. Scott had sent me a package. I sighed, it was almost always an outfit to wear and it almost always (well, these days full always) was less than I wanted to wear and less than I was happy wearing. But since I was trapped and held hostage I would put it on and go to dinner or wherever with him that night and pretend to have a good time and drink as much as necessary to make the acting not so hard to do. The dresses were mostly nice, normally not completely slutty (but unfortunately normally far too close to it). Some were downright beautiful. Most were short skirts or different kinds of tops. OK, I had the figure for these things. I could wear them and not look stupid but nobody could wear most of these things and not look like a slut. I just wasn't happy about wearing them in public and looking three-quarters naked. Or at least a lot more exposed than I would have ever permitted. That was probably the point, I reflected.

This one was the scariest so far. It was solid dark green rayon and thin. My nipples would show right through it and it was so snug that my panties would be obvious under them if in fact I were wearing panties under them which I surely wouldn't be allowed. I had tried sneaking in panties on an outfit once, silk, expensive, and the thinnest pair I owned. Scott noticed relatively quickly and he tossed the panties out the car window about halfway to the restaurant. I didn't bother afterward.

This dress was a problem and it was a real problem and a no-way-in-hell if I had any kind of choice. It was a triangle top, backless and braless, descending from a large hoop around my neck down diagonally to the bar underneath my breasts. But it wasn't wide enough. It wasn't wide enough at all. I tried it on in fear, that ran quickly to despair. The dress might have properly fit someone who was a 34B or 34C but I was a 36D almost 38 and the outer half of each breast was hanging out of it. It just wasn't cut wide enough for someone with my breasts. I wondered if this was on purpose or if Scott had just messed up on the chest size. I tried a quick dash down the hall in it and by the time I stopped one breast was fully out and the other one was well on its way. The dress would have supported a smaller woman's breasts properly but not mine. That hoop was going to kill the back of my neck by the end of the night. Double-sided tape across the undersize of each breast was a must; I wondered what Scott would do if (when) he discovered it.

It did come with a matching jacket. I would be unhappy about the occasional flashes of major sideboob but I could live with that and maybe even have a little fun with it. But that jacket had to stay on. I didn't know how but I'd just have to make Scott see. Even just sitting at a private table the thought of that much of me exposed to the waiter and people walking by made me shudder in revulsion. If I suddenly turned to the side I was flying out for sure.

It didn't go that way. Things went fine until we got to the table. It was a relatively private table and only the waiter and the rare passers-by would have seen me, seen my breasts hanging all out like that but I still was very much against exposing myself. If I were going to show that much I might as well pull the neck hoop off and let my breasts shine in their glory.

Scott didn't see it that way. He didn't ask for the jacket until we got to the table but did insist on me giving him the jacket once there. Normally the way this worked is he kept control of whatever piece of clothing it was until after the meal and sometimes these days I couldn't put it back on even then. With all the pictures he had of me there was no way I'd fight him or make a scene (and we both knew it) but I was mortified and almost in tears at the thought of having my whole chest hanging out like that through the meal. What wasn't actually visible might as well have been with that thin a fabric.

I held out on giving him the jacket and we both started to lose it. I tried what I could. I offered to do anything he wanted once we got home if he would just please don't make me do this here. He was clearly angry and it looked like he was going to play the trump card he normally played at times like this when I was reluctant (I had never actually fought him on anything like this up until now) of asking me to help him pick out the pictures he'd post first but he didn't this time. He was mad but he made me a counter-offer. He knew I didn't have anything going on the next day or the Saturday of next week and he told me he would give in on the jacket tonight but both tomorrow and next Saturday were completely his. I agreed in a nanosecond. We had a less-than-comfortable meal after which he drove me straight home and dropped me off. He told me to be ready to go to a park tomorrow morning for a picnic-type event and to wear one of my wraparound skirts. He'd be here to pick me up at 7:45.

I was ready, semi-restless sleep and dressed in a nice low-cut tank top (one with a bra built into it), the requested (demanded) wrap around skirt and sandals (and nothing else at all except my favorite necklace, a delicate gold chain that fell just below my clavicle with a really small diamond beautifully mounted on it). He was perfectly on time. I figured he was planning to tie me up somewhere since the wrap-around skirt was ideal to take off after he had secured my wrists and ankles. I felt bad and more than a little scared. He could ruin me and last night I had begged him to strike.

Tied up sex outdoors wasn't unheard of for us. If he chose to be rougher with me than normal in view of what had happened I knew I'd say nothing about it. In fact I was in the right mood for that and it would be very good if that was how he wanted to even things out. Go somewhere private with a gentle wind and the sounds of nature and someone driving me to distraction in all the right ways? Or maybe tied up and spread naked in the middle of the forest while someone rage-fucked me hard? Under those circumstances I could struggle and fight back and maybe even get free and all that would be quite enjoyable. Anyway it could be worse. If he worked his way into a good mood I might even be able to relax enough to enjoy myself. He wouldn't really hurt me; he never had and I trusted him on that. Yet I knew for certain I had absolutely no choice today. I would apologize properly for last night by quickly and quietly doing anything and everything he asked of me.

He seemed normal, even a little happy and that was really weird and more than just a little freaky after how mad he was last night. I hoped that maybe he had just woken up and thought better of it and hoped I was right. It seemed a little fake and after a while I could see he was still mad. I just wish I could tell if he was just biding his time until we were alone and I was helpless or if he was trying to smooth over last night and make it go away. It didn't matter, I realized. Either way I still needed to be perfect so we could put last night behind us.

He was taking me to Fernando Rocks Park. A river ran about twenty miles outside of town and there was a place where it naturally lent itself to public use. In a wide-open mile-or-so stretch there were several deep pools and a several-hundred-yard run of slide rocks. It was a wonderful place that I had visited many times with my family when I was younger and spent many delightful days there. The parking area was in a natural meadow that they had just paved over, preferring to disturb the forest as little as possible. There actually was a way to drive all the way to the Rocks but it was restricted unless you were handicapped or park staff. Or police. It was an incredible family place during the day but I found out eventually that once the sun set it was an equally strong magnet for older teens and young people to have campfires and usually drink heavily. I had gone there a few times when I was the right age and knew that from experience. It was a wild free-for-all with the natural results of hormone-drenched drunk teens only occasionally requiring police intervention. I knew from friends that things often devolved into wild sex parties and not all the vegetation burning there was local sticks and logs in the fire. I never did any of that, except the alcohol (Not me. Way too scared. Breathing only air and knees welded firmly together) but plenty of my girlfriends did and talked about it the next Monday in school.

There was a path, averaging about fifty feet wide that ran straight as an arrow for the 3/4 of a mile or so distance between the parking lot and the Rocks. It was heavy woods on either side of the path but there were open areas, meadows in the woods on the far side of the river and the recreation area. One could slip off there if you wanted to do things that were better not seen by the smaller children playing in the water. We parked and Scott shouldered his backpack (I as instructed had nothing with me) and we started for the water. I figured we'd find our way to one of the far-side meadows (we'd done that more than once when we were dating), he'd tie me up, maybe stake me out, and then work out his frustrations on me and we'd be ok with each other when it was over and hopefully back on an even keel. I was fine with that. I'd be happy to do that with him.

As we walked the late spring morning was still a little crisp. It was a bit before 9. The dew had dried and gone about an hour ago; it didn't last long around here, the sunshine was bright and warm, the breeze a gentle caress. The smell of trees and nature was pleasing to my senses and the sound of the wind in the tall trees and the random bird making it seem wonderful. I could see a few people ahead of us in the distance but this time of morning the path was practically deserted. This would change in an hour and last until sundown as families, couples, and others came and went on what was promising to be a warm and delightful Saturday.

I still didn't know exactly what Scott was going to ask of me but he would have it, whatever it was. He hadn't asked me to bring a bathing suit (these days he'd ask me to wear my bikini which I would have been unhappy about but I would just stay in and under the water as much as possible. I didn't mind a bikini at all when it was just the two of us but this was about as far from private as one could get). Either he wasn't planning on swimming or he had one for me in his backpack. I would not enjoy showing so much skin in this much public but after last night I knew I'd have to and I would do it if he told me to.

About three-quarters of the way down the path, he grabbed my arm and began leading me off to the right side of the path, across the cleared area and into the forest. We only went about ten feet into the woods but they were so thick that to get hidden you only had to go that far. We realistically couldn't be seen from the path but people on the path could be heard and watched by us if you looked in the right places through the brush. I bit my lip but concluded we were far enough in, barely, so that no one would discover us -- me -- as they passed. Well, so much for the meadows on the far side of the water.

He motioned me to sit down in a little grassy area about seven or eight feet wide and told me to remove my top. I did. It was quiet and still here off the path. The wind blew gently through the trees and across my now-bare breasts. It was the wrong time of year for insects and bugs so they wouldn't be a problem. There were plenty of trees of varying sizes all around the grassy patch for him to tie wrists and ankles. Not knowing what was going to happen but determined to do anything he asked I sat.

He dug out of his backpack a long run of light chain. OK, I had expected that he was going to tie me up but chain was a little out of it when rope would do just fine. We were way too close to where people would walk by fifty feet away. I knew I wouldn't make a noise the entire time we were here for fear they might find us, me, stark naked and tied up as I expected to soon be. I really, really would have been much happier on the other side of the river.

The chain was copper colored so it blended pretty well with the ground. It was close-linked, almost serpentine and it looked like there was about thirty or forty feet of it. I wondered why he needed such a long piece or if he was going to cut it to suit now that he had me here. 

He took one end of the chain and ran it around my left ankle. A small key lock came out of the bag and he locked it tightly around the ankle. It was pretty tight, maybe even a little too tight. I didn't think I was going to be able to work it off and it certainly would not slide easily off my ankle. I felt a knot forming in my stomach as he took a matching key lock (the key wasn’t in that one either) and the other end of the chain and locked it around a medium-sized tree about thirty feet away parallel to the path, the chain’s full length. Unhappily I noted that with that anchor point I could be dragged a good ten feet into the walkway clearing while still chained up. But I dared not say a word of complaint, not a word at all. Too scared.

He took his backpack and my shirt and put them down on the far side of the clearing, both out of my reach now that I was chained. I took a deep inward sigh but made no outward reaction as he walked up to me, unbuttoned the skirt and it too was gone and out of reach beside the top, leaving my breasts and pubic area completely exposed and nothing to cover myself within my reach. We both froze as a family walked by. We held still, barely breathing as their voices receded toward the Rocks. Out of his pack came a pair of handcuffs and he motioned me to lay down and stretch my wrists around a smaller tree on the opposite side from where my ankle chain went. He stretched me out with the handcuffs around the tree leaving only a few inches of slack.

Flat on my back and aware of my naked breasts and hardened-in-the-morning-air nipples slowly rising and falling I remained quiet as he pulled a piece of normal 1/4 inch nylon rope out of his pack and secured my other ankle, spreading me widely. Except for the location this was pretty much what I expected. There was no way I would be able to relax and enjoy myself this naked, this helpless, and this close to absolute strangers walking by. But as long as we were quiet I expected I would be safe and you could bet your damn ass (and I was) that I was going to be the absolute soul of quiet while I was here. I figured the forced-sex fantasy part of me would have a bonanza with this in the future as long as things went ok.

Off came his clothes revealing the rock-hard cock that he'd better have in this situation. A little lube from out of the backpack and he was sliding in and out of the body beneath him he had made too helpless to resist and too terrified to cry out. No condom but I’d been on and would be on the pill forever so it didn’t matter.

He took his time. It took him over a half hour. The first time we heard voices on the path I whispered "Please" and he just stopped and laid fully impaled on top of me. That didn't last. Soon enough he continued his slow steady screw of me, to my terror not changing in any way and still moving as required to go in and out of me even when people were on the path right across from us.

Of course I was frozen stiff. Of course I hardly breathed. I wished desperately that he would stop taking chances by moving when there were people nearby. If somebody saw us he could still run deeper into the forest and escape but I would be right where I was when whoever they were got here, splayed out in a "Y" and fucked until a moment ago. I was grateful beyond belief that he was making no sound. He was even breathing lightly like I was and going gently and slowly in and out of me to minimize movement. I so wished he would lay still when people walked by but he didn't and there was nothing I could do about it.

He leaned down to kiss me and stupidly, defiantly, I refused. I should have known what would happen and probably did. He had a game when we were dating: When I was tied up he would lean down and if I didn't kiss him deeply and I mean tonsillectomy sort of deeply he'd pinch my nipples (and I mean pinch them really, really hard) until I gave in. Sometimes he would keep pinching me even after I had capitulated just to make a point. Or maybe because he was enjoying it. He'd often make sure he was full-length inside me when he did that so he could enjoy my thrashing.

He propped himself up on his elbows beside me and grabbed for my nipples. Not wanting that to happen I puckered up right away but he didn't care. He was motivated and after last night enjoying it. It really hurt but I dared not make a sound and he knew it. I moved as little as I could even though the pain was incredible. I couldn't help thrashing underneath him and still he kept it up and still it hurt like fire. It seemed like forever. He wasn't trying to get my attention. He was trying to make a point and succeeding (well, two points, one with each nipple). I couldn't do anything about it but writhe and be hurt. I wanted to yell and cry out in my pain but we both knew I would not make a noise and that took an effort. He kept it up way too long, two or three times longer than he needed for me to really, firmly get the message. I guess it was revenge, or anger. I got it. He could hurt me like that all day if he wanted, till I lost my mind. And I couldn't do shit about it except suffer, not even scream. I just breathed hard and begged him with my eyes for it to end.

He finally let go. The blood flowing back into my nipples hurt almost as bad. They were throbbing points of pain that wouldn’t fade for a while. I wouldn't forget it any time soon and be reminded as he was laying on top of me and moving my chest as he screwed me. But when he leaned down my lips were pursed and I kissed him deeply, desperately, tonsillectomy, like I didn't want him to ever do that to me again. Which was exactly the case.

He finally came. He gave what was little more than a deep breath then plunged in hard and I felt him spasming inside me several times. He lay still on top of me while he rode out his storm then satisfied he rolled off me. I still couldn't move but felt relieved. OK, you've had your fun and I get the point about doing things in near public so just untie me now and let's keep going to the Rocks. Maybe we can find a quiet meadow on the far side later this afternoon if you are up to it. I don't want to wear a bikini here but when you hand it to me I will put it on and pretend to be ok with it just to get the day over with.

After a few minutes he started moving. He untied the rope from my unchained ankle and put it away. He dug out the proper key and the handcuffs came off and also went back in his pack. He then got himself dressed which annoyed me because I could be doing the same thing and saving time if he'd just let me go. 

Everything was packed away in his out-of-reach backpack including all my clothes leaving me still naked on the ground with his cum beginning to seep out of me. I was still attached on a long chain to a nearby tree and wearing nothing but that thin but solid chain on my ankle and a smaller gold version of it around my neck. The knot in my stomach swelled until it felt like I was nine months pregnant. There was no way he would... was there? I concluded he would and was going to. From his actions there was no other choice.

He came up to me where I lay curled up in a ball on my side in the grassy spot.

"How long are you going to leave me here?" I barely whispered, afraid of my own voice and very afraid of the answer. Only an hour or two I hoped.

"Nine PM tonight." He answered and my blood ran cold. Could he really force me to stay here naked and helpless for twelve whole hours? My voice failed me and my heart nearly did too. God, we were so very done here now! He'd had his fun, blasted his rocks off inside of me, made his point about me not fighting him. Ok, I've been naked in semi-public now and I won't repeat last night again. 

I looked up into his eyes which were steel and unmoving. "Please no. Let me go now. Don't leave me alone. I'll do anything you want, I swear it, anything, ask anything, I'll do it."

"I know you will. I need you to learn a few things which you will by staying right here until 9."

The enormity of it flooded me. Horror. I analyzed it. All he had to do for that to happen was to walk away. I couldn’t even run after him. I felt small, cold, weak, helpless. "You can't leave me. How will you keep me safe?"

I could see in his face he didn't like that. "I'm not. I don’t like that but to make the proper point to you I really do need to leave. I'm walking back to the car and driving back home until later. You're far enough off the trail that you ought to be safe. I left a bright yellow shirt here when I planned this and couldn't really see it from the trail."

"Barely." I whispered, terrified, resigned. I was pretty sure I wasn't getting the chain off my ankle. If he wanted to walk away and leave me there was nothing I could do about it. Maybe I could work the chain off the tree or off my ankle. I had to wait until he was gone so he couldn't prevent me or fix it. But even if I did, once he was gone what then? I was still buck naked in the middle of a public park.

"What if I get discovered?" I whispered.

Scott shrugged. "You could tell them it's a sorority initiation and refuse to say which one. You could say you were doing a dare, or that you were out here last night drinking and woke up this way. Or something else. Up to you."

He continued. "The key to you staying safe is to keep your head in place and your eyes and ears open. If you hear people coming too close you probably have a few seconds to dive behind something but if you hear a dog nearby just freeze right wherever you are and hold your breath. Their hearing is way too good and I expect it would hear you moving and come find out what it was."

I held a very narrow hope that this was just a mind game and that he was just trying to scare me (completely successfully). That he would start to walk away and then come back or just walk away for a few minutes. Or watch over me from a distance where I couldn’t see him like he always did. But it suddenly hit me. I remembered from when we were dating that he had a fantasy like this and deep down in my heart I knew he was really going to leave. 

When we were dating he had talked of leaving me tied up naked somewhere secluded but in public where there was a risk that I might be found. Normally it was somewhere like in the currently-unused basement of a frat when a party was going on. Leaving me tied, naked, often gagged, spread wide open and then he would go back upstairs and drink some more. If anyone found me I was on my own. If anyone found me I was already naked, helpless, and ready for them. They would likely be drunk enough to override any inhibitions or conscience that might keep them from enjoying me. Obviously I never let that happen. I had zero doubt of my decision then or now.

One of the unwritten rules in our relationship, at least when we were dating, is that he didn't leave me alone. He might not be in my immediate presence, but he would be close enough to protect me. Like sitting in the stairwell when he dropped the key from the top landing. It was why I would let things go so far when we played. Farther than some of my girlfriends thought was smart. Because I felt safe. Because I knew I was protected. Anyone who found me and wanted to hurt me would have to go through Scott and Scott would not let happen. But what was then was not now and I had pissed him off a hell of a lot last night. There was always a first time...

I grabbed his hand. "Don't leave me. Please, I'm begging you, please don't leave me."

He gently but firmly detached my hand from his wrist and with that I knew he was really going to walk away. My body was numb and frozen as I realized what he was doing and going to do. I just lay there as he got up and moved toward his backpack. He was really going to do it. He was going to walk away and leave me. I was frozen. I couldn't move any more. Nothing left to say. What was I going to do? He moved to pick up his backpack, still out of my reach because of the ankle chain.

"Anything, Scott. On my life, anything, just ask," I whispered, "Anything." I still couldn't move. I could barely speak, terrified, paralyzed.

"Stay here until 9 PM. I'll be back in a few hours to check on you." And he was gone.


I just lay there on my side, stunned, unbelieving. The sounds of him crashing through the brush back into the path's open area faded from my mind. Sunshine filtered down almost unimpeded on me, its warmth fighting the little cold still in the air and on the ground. The wind blew warm, gently, softly across my bare back and bottom, it would have been a delightful caress under more reasonable circumstances. I lay still, listening to the soft twitter of birds somewhere around me, the occasional sound of people moving up and down the path. Hoping against fading hope to hear Scott returning to free me, his point made, me fully convinced. After what seemed to me to be fifteen or twenty minutes I fully gave up on that hope.

Almost numbly I checked the chain around my ankle. Locked tight. I tried to slip it down but it was too tight and eventually I gave up there too.

I checked the chain where it locked around the tree. Also locked solidly. It was loose around the base of the tree but the branches precluded trying to run the chain over the top. I wasn't getting it off the tree.

I checked the entire length of the chain. Industrial. No open or loose links, no signs of a weak spot. I could pry any link I wanted open, if I had a knife.

Once the path was quiet I pulled on the chain, tried to see if I could break it, pull open a link and free myself. Nothing. No give.

I looked around. Absolutely nothing around me that could be used to pry open a link or something like that. There were rocks; if I got desperate enough I could pound the chain between two rocks until it opened or broke but there was no way to do that now or realistically before 9 PM, it would take too long and make lots of noise. I could only see about a hundred-foot length of the path and people would hear it long before I knew they were close and if they investigated...

So I lay back down in my grassy prison, wind still blowing gently, my long brown hair scattering all around on the ground beneath me. What was I going to do? 

As I lay there, facing the path, I noticed that I could see a stretch of the path. The brush screened it, but since it was closer to me it was less of an obstacle to my vision than it would be for people looking toward me. I watched a young family move through my field of vision. Tall man, smiling woman with long blonde hair spilling out in a swimsuit top and shorts, two little kids, maybe seven or eight, one boy and one girl. The parents were happy, the children excited at the prospect of playing in the Rocks for the afternoon. Little did they dream that a few scant yards away just off the path a young woman their mommy's age was chained to a tree naked and helpless. And terrified.

I remembered the times when I was the little girl, when my family would come out here. I would lose track of the time swimming and sliding down the rocks until the sun was low and it was time to head home. My brother and I were normally asleep in the back seat before we cleared the parking area. All the times I had walked past this spot I never dreamed in a million years about me or anyone else being held just off the path, a naked captive.

And then I got angry. Dammit, people just didn't do this to other people! If someone found me I could be arrested, raped, or worse. Scott was by his own admission nowhere nearby. For all he knew I was being repeatedly gang-raped right now and when he finally got back what if all he found was a lifeless tragedy! Or someone he had once loved that had been left exposed and assaulted repeatedly, raped until she was psychologically mute and lobotomized?

What was wrong with him anyways? He knew I was like this! I withheld nothing else from him when we were dating and had denied him nothing while he was blackmailing me up until last night. Even when it would have killed me like the slut dress and hooker heels I would have done it if he had insisted. Wasn't that good enough? Did he have to have *everything*? And leave me with nothing?

Was I not beautiful enough? I looked down at my body, my large breasts slowly rising and falling with my breathing, my legs shining slightly in the filtered sunshine. I knew I had a good body, I exercised and watched my weight. There was no fat on these bones, sister! My skin was lightly, pleasingly tanned, my legs looked really damn long and good in three-inch heeds and a short skirt or dress, the bastard had proven that to me and everyone around us in the last month and a half! But he knew I had a phobia about showing skin in public, he knew it! Dammit, just that one thing! Couldn't he just live with that, for me? I felt long brown hair spread underneath my head and shoulders like a fan, saw flawless breasts with pert nipples rising and falling, gazed at a not ripped but completely free of fat stomach, a long thick brown public triangle, long legs that were in shape and looked it. Dammit, why wasn't that enough?

I knew my fear of public exposure was groundless, maybe even stupid. I looked fine; it certainly wasn't for any physical reasons. I knew he hated that fear and that it caused us to break up the first time. That he was only human and most of the women my age walked around every day in things microscopic compared to me. But dammit, that was me. That was who I was. Wasn't I allowed to be me??

I looked down at the copper-colored chain running around my ankle and off into the shrubbery. No, not at the moment. 

If I knew what was good for me not at all any more. Until I figured out how to get to and destroy all the pictures.

Or murdered Scott. I wasn't about to place money on which one.

Then I heard it. Voices approaching, not on the path but on the side of the forest right next to me. I was here laying in a bright, open spot. From the path I was safe but up close all they'd have to do would be to look in my direction. People every so often walked up the sides instead of the path, I had done it a few times myself as a child. They were male voices, sounding like older teenagers and were coming closer. I probably had ten seconds until they passed ten feet away from me. Passed, I prayed, because I had no backup. I had no safety man this time and it could go real bad for me. 

I crabbed quickly and silently away from the path, behind a fallen tree, and just lay there, face down. Barely breathing, heart thumping like a drum, adrenaline running through me like fire. I kept my face down, reasoning that people looked for human faces everywhere and if they couldn't see mine they were less likely if they didn’t see a face to connect it to naked young female body. Besides, I was trapped by the chain on my ankle. If they spotted me that I could watch them coming made no difference at all.

It barely took a few seconds for them to draw almost beside me, it seemed like they were stepping over me. I both froze and wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. There were a lot of sticks on the ground there, one poking my leg, one my pelvic region just to the side of the top corner of my hair, and worst one sticking me hard, feeling like I had impaled myself right on my right nipple. It hurt like hell but I dared not even move because they were too close. The tree blocked most of me from the path but the top of me was not hidden. I prayed it would be enough.

It was. The voices passed and moved off into the distance. When I hadn't heard them for a count of thirty I gingerly stood up. I examined my poor breast. I might get a bruise there but there was no puncture and no blood. I moved the branches and twigs out of the way in case I needed an emergency bail spot again. It was too rough to use in anything but emergencies. Once my heart rate had returned I quietly checked the area my chain covered in the forest but found no real option where I could stretch out with any sort of comfort except where Scott had placed me. It was too close to the open path for my good feelings but there was no other choice on where to be.

With where the sun was in the sky the grassy spot at the moment and probably for the next half hour or so would be in direct sunlight. Having nothing better to do I decided to work on my tan. I giggled at the thought, some of the people in class seeing me afterward -- yeah, she has an all-over tan, and I mean an all-over tan, except for, go figure, one band around her left ankle. But the sun was warm, the voices stayed on the path, and there was nothing else to do.


As I lay in my small little world, I heard voices go by on the path. Families. Couples. Smaller sets of people. Most quiet, some rowdy. None aware of the naked woman helpless and hidden a few yards away. 

And I was sorry. Sorry that I was such a prude. I looked better, or at least as good, than most of the women that walked by. And they wore normal clothes, shorts, skirts, tops meant to show off their bodies and be pleasing to the man in their lives. They didn't see it as a problem. Likely they didn't even think of it. it was just the right thing to do. They had the body, why not use it? What made me think I was an exception?

The sun was warm and the wind light across my skin and as much as I could be I was comfortable, even dozing off. I hadn't slept well after dinner last night. The breeze and the sunlight and the variety of voices that came and went all contributed. I wasn't getting loose so I might as well sleep.

But then I heard it, it penetrated through the blanket of slumber that had covered me. On the trail, a familiar voice. One of my friends.

I snapped back to, opened my eyes and looked through the shrubbery to the path. Indeed it was Janelle Wright. Long black hair, tank top and shorts. With her was another woman our age that I faintly knew from one of my classes, I think her name was Angie. I knew they'd help me. They could get me some clothes and if they didn't have anything to cut the chain, breaking it apart with rocks wouldn't be a problem if I was no longer naked.

I was ready to call out to her, to come to the edge of the brush, but there was a family with small children right behind them. I hesitated and as they walked past the chance was gone. 

I lay back down on the grassy spot, miserable and angry at myself. I knew what had happened. I knew why I had hesitated. Same as always. Here I was stark naked and in the open and I didn't want to be found like that. The same shit that last night caused the fight with Scott and wound me up here. The same useless shit that broke us up in the first place. That same useless, pointless shit. I would have cried except I was afraid to make that much noise.

I dozed some more but then the absolute worst happened. I heard the sound of barking and something large in terms of dogs crashing through the edge of the forest on my side. And two, maybe three male voices. They weren't at the edge of the forest where I would surely be seen but they weren't anywhere near the path either.

Scott's words came back to me as they came closer and I froze solid, flat on my back where I lay. I didn't even dare to move to close my legs. The sun was filtered and the shadows moving ever so slightly, my tanned skin helping me blend in with the forest. I really, really hoped it would be enough. The dog and the voices came closer and closer.

The dog found me. My blood ran cold, a wave of terror almost escaped to the surface. I could only run a few yards and if I moved it would be enough that the dog would bark and chase me and its owners would surely investigate. I wondered if they'd do the right thing and help me get loose. I wondered if they would rape me. There were three of them and it'd be easy enough if they wanted. Plenty of hands to hold me down while other parts did other things until they were done. Or if they'd just force me out into the open and leave me stuck out there where every person walking by could see and marvel at my naked body.

The dog came up to me, curious, and sniffed me. I remained dead still, not even breathing. It sniffed my hair. Moved over and sniffed my crotch, probably smelling Scott's semen that had leaked out of me and I hadn't bothered to do anything about. The people walked by, lost in their conversation and not seeing me. Passing me by. I could see their heads. One was a blonde, the other two had brown hair. All they had to do was look over and see me laying on my back, stark naked, everything visible, and for me it would be over. But they didn’t. They receded down the verge toward the Rocks. And then, curiosity satisfied, the dog trotted away to catch up.

After a couple of seconds I dared to breathe again. I lost it. I'd do anything Scott wanted. It was just too close this time. All they had to do was to look over at me to see me. I'd do anything he wanted, for the rest of my life just to make it out of here. Scared, trembling now, I just lay still and let the small wind caress me.

I had to go to the bathroom, to take a leak. Once it was quiet I carefully moved to a spot far away from my grassy spot and did my business. There was of course nothing to wipe me down with. I returned to the grassy spot and lay back down.

Then I heard steps approaching from the path, directly toward me, a voice calling my name: Scott's. He broke through the edge of the forest to me, wearing only shorts and sandals, holding a bag and a bottle of water.

I took the water gratefully. I downed it all in almost one gulp, only then realizing how thirsty I had become. Out of the bag came another water bottle and three granola bars which also disappeared quickly. 

"What time is it?" I asked. He answered it was about 11:30.

I turned on him. "This has gone way too long, way too far and I’ve had some terrifying moments. Let me go right now and take me home."

He looked at me almost in disbelief. "No."

"Dammit, let me go now!" I whispered as loudly as I dared. "People have walked right by me and I hurt myself diving behind a tree trunk, A fucking dog found me and sniffed my crotch while it's people walked by ten feet away. I get the point. I get the message. I won't give you any crap at all about clothing. I'll wear whatever you want. But this shit is over now."

That probably would have worked had he been invested in the relationship but he wasn't. He had blackmail pictures and the deck was stacked entirely in his direction. I was bluffing and I knew it. He knew it too I was sure. I wondered if he would hear what I was saying or call me on it.

"If you need to go to the bathroom go now." He instructed me, ignoring my outburst. "I'm going to keep you busy for a while and you won't be able to."

"I'm fine. Went a little while ago."

He pulled handcuffs out of the bag and motioned for me to lay back down like I was this morning. 

"No. You can't make me. I'll yell and scream. I'll make too much noise."

"You will, will you?" He asked, incredulous, turning on me. "Maybe you hadn't noticed, but you are chained naked to a tree in the middle of a public park and you have no way of getting loose or you'd have done it long before now."

He stopped a second to glare at me. "You know, maybe I won't let you go at 9 PM. It's warm at night and you'd be ok. Maybe you could stay here for a few days. People at school would probably just think you just got sick or took Monday off. It might be Tuesday or so before anyone started wondering. All that time, you naked and alone out here. Hopefully not discovered."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Hard to say." He agreed. "But it's going to be a warm night and a full moon. I'll bet there are going to be plenty of parties out there in the Rocks tonight. You know the police don't come out here unless they are called and when they do they just drive right up there on the access road. They'd never come through here. What if someone walked into a group of rip-roaring drunk guys and told them there was a naked woman chained up in the forest just waiting for them?"

I lost it at that. I knew girls got raped out here. Not me of course, Miss Knees-welded-shut, but I had heard way too many second-hand stories. A girl would get way too drunk and wake up the next morning being able to tell from where she hurt what she had done but not really remembering exactly what or with who.

And there were the really bad stories. A girl came out here, got drunk with everyone else and get gang-raped. The guys were drunk too and for one reason or another they would keep coming. I'd never known anyone who went through that nightmare but it made the news when it happened maybe once or twice a year. Yeah, there'd be plenty of drunk losers out here tonight. And they'd probably be happy to walk a short distance for an extended run at pussy. My pussy. I couldn't imagine Scott doing that to me but he was right: it was going to be warm and there was going to be huge parties out here tonight. And I might get found out with no action at all from Scott. It damn near had already happened.

I lay down, stretched my wrists above me, spread my legs with an exasperated little huff. The handcuffs went back on, stretching my naked body out again. The rope came out and secured the other ankle, spreading me wide, making me helpless to anything my captor desired to do upon me. 

But then out of the bag came a ball gag. It was black, the locking one. I shook my head no, asked him please, but he put it at my lips and after a second I opened my mouth and he slid it in place. The strap went on, tightly as it needed to be. It could be locked on and I knew from experience that if he did I would not be able to remove it even if my hands were free but he didn't lock it. With me spread out like I was there was no need, I wasn't going to be reaching it anyway. But anything he was planning that he felt a need to gag me for…

Down and off came his pants, and he enjoyed his helpless victim like he had this morning. A slow, steady fuck, in and out, no hurry, no rush, had all the time in the world. The girl wasn't going anywhere. At least he couldn't make me kiss him.

He took his time. He would stop to chew on my nipples when he was getting close until he calmed down and then start up again. Then he went the full way, ending with a huge painful slam into me and the feel of cum spurting inside me again. He lay still on top of me for a few minutes then rolled off and got dressed.

"Mmmph?" Aren't you going to untie me?

He looked down at me, still stretched out wide, helpless. I couldn't even move. "No." He whispered to my dismay. "Not the way you're acting." And again he was gone.

I really didn't like this. Wasn't it enough for him that I was naked in public and chained to a tree? Even that way if someone saw me I could easily find the price required to be my body but if they came across me like this, naked and splayed out that would be inevitable. I struggled but the handcuffs were not going anywhere and until they did the rope on my ankle and the gag were moot.

I could still see the path from where I lay, could still see people walk by. I And once again I heard a voice I thought I recognized but this one was not good news at all.

I watched, stock-still through the open patches in the shrubbery and prayed I was wrong. Prayed they didn't see me. The owner of the voice came into view and confirmed my fears. Marilyn Jacques, along with about six guys. I gave that a very quiet snort, yeah, that was Marilyn.

She was medium height, black hair, a little more fat than she needed to be but had good curves that she used to advantage. And she hated me. I really wasn't sure why but she did. Two of the guys were carrying a large cooler. Yeah, they looked like they'd be here for the night. A shiver ran through me. Scott knew how she felt about me. If he wanted to make good on his threat all he had to do was tell Marilyn and she'd gleefully spend all night making sure I was occupied all night and morning long. She’d call people in from out of state if she had to.

If Marilyn found me, my goose would be cooked. She'd be completely happy to hold me down while every male she could reach repeatedly raped me. She'd probably live-stream it while it happened. The guys with her were throwing a football back and forth. The one on my side was muscular and kind of hunky. I was just terrified that a throw would go long and the guy would find me while retrieving the football. There'd be nothing I could do about it. Here I'd be, everything exposed, legs spread wide, even already gagged for convenience. The complete package. Ready-to-use.

The guy on my side threw the ball and it went long into the forest on the far side. My heart stopped. If the guy decided to return the favor I was found. I trembled, couldn't move. I wanted to wet myself. I held my breath but wanted to scream, terrified. The guy emerged from the forest and threw the ball, a long, high arc. From where I lay it looked like it was going to go over the receiver's head and looked like it would come in the forest just a little beyond me. Where I might not be seen but the chain surely would. And with that lay discovery. And with that lay Marilyn. And with that lay me laying stretched out in the forest, getting laid by all six of them and maybe more. I wondered what Scott could do if he came back and that was in progress. The ball arched over the path taking my life and my future with it. It was really high, the guy who threw it was laughing about it in a 'back atcha' fashion. A few seconds at best and my naked body, stretched out, would be discovered and lots of people would see all of me. And do things I was helpless to prevent with it. My heart seized. The ball flew closer and along with it the end of my life. Yeah, now I saw the wind had caught it and it was pretty much coming straight toward me. There'd be no way that guy could miss my exposed body. I was toast. Marilyn would take lots of pictures and she'd have no interest at all in keeping them private. I could already feel the first guy, whoever it was, dropping his shorts, laying on top of me, a rock-hard cock at his disposal and plunging it into my ineffectively struggling body. Inside I screamed.

The guy on my side made a tremendous leap... and caught it. Laughing and hooting back at the other guy and to the admiring comments of everyone else the group moved on leaving me still in undiscovered silence.

And I broke. I was done. Anything Scott wanted. I got it. Run around naked, I would. Wear single strips of gauze wrap to class leaving no doubt of what was underneath top, bottom, and backside. Done. Sex, anywhere, any time. Let's go, where and when? None of it mattered any more. I didn't have a bad body. I had nothing to be ashamed of. I'd use it from here on out, show it off, make the guys around me, especially Scott, walk around half in a faint because of all the blood in their cocks. It just didn't matter. And I'd be the most compliant little kitten he had ever dreamed of.

At the moment, there was absolutely nothing I could do but I looked forward to proving that to him. I lay back, eyes closed, no longer caring that I was naked, no longer caring that my rising and falling breasts and pubic area were exposed and open. Just didn't matter anymore. The path of repression, of guarding myself from a fear that was not true was a dead end that I was barreling down at eighty miles an hour and the concrete wall was just ahead. I got it. I was turning off the motor and getting off that ride.

I just lay still and waited. Nothing else to do but with my surrender I felt calm, clean and at peace. What would happen would happen but I'd do my best with the things I could. I closed my eyes and felt the breeze waft over me. I listened to the voices pass by and rested.


Eventually Scott reappeared. I waited while the handcuffs came off. I sat up and rubbed my wrists making no move to take the gag off or loosen the rope holding my feet spread apart.

Scott noticed this, and was surprised. He removed the gag and the rope for me and put them both back in the bag he had again brought. Out came another bottled water and more granola. I thanked him sincerely and consumed it all. 

I lay on my side facing him, making no effort to conceal any of myself from him. "I do look pretty to you, don't I?" I asked. "You like my body?"

He lay down beside me, close enough to touch. "You are beautiful, very much so. Your body is perfect and you can get me hard just walking in the room. You're way beyond pretty, way, way beyond."

I pushed on the front of his top shoulder, rolling him on his back. Then I opened and removed his shorts and climbed on top of him, straddling him. He was soundless the whole time. As I leaned down to kiss him, just before our lips touched, I whispered "Good."

We took a long time. It was love this time, not sex. I didn't care that I was naked and chained to a tree. I didn't care that we were barely hidden and fifty feet from a path where people were traveling constantly. We were just two people, male and female, doing what was natural. In many ways I'd been good to him, recently and when we were dating and in some ways I had been such a complete shit for such stupid reasons and I wanted to make it up to him. To show him things were now forever different.

We finished. I lay back satisfied. After a while I asked. "If you want you could let me go now? I think we're done here."

He grimaced, braced himself for an explosion. "Actually I can't. To make sure I couldn't, the key to the locks is in the timer box which is set for 9."

He had, while we were dating, purchased a timer lock box for me as a gift. It was small but heavy like a small fire box. There was no way of opening the box until the time ran out. Even if the batteries ran out the box stayed locked. And it also stayed locked if it was locked for its maximum time, three days, if the battery was removed and replaced while the lock was engaged. 

"OK," That was that. "where is it?"

"You won't like this either. On my desk at home." He braced himself for the explosion that I would have definitely given had I not had my epiphany a few hours ago. Instead I just laughed a little. 


"Yup. Wanted to force myself to really leave you alone for a while."

"It'll take two and a half hours to get there and back."

"Uh huh."

I laughed a little more. "Well, how about my clothes? Can I get them back while you are on your way and back?"

"Nope. Locked in a box in the back of my car. All my clothes and anything else that we could wear is in there too. I didn't want to be able to wimp out on that either."

I snorted. "Let me guess where the key to that one is..."

"You got it."

I laughed, a little strangled laugh. "And when did you plan to go get them?"

"As soon as I was done here."

"You planned this out pretty well, didn't you?" He just shrugged.

I shook my head in disbelief. "Well, ok, I guess I'm not going anywhere until 9. Got any ideas how to pass the time? A deck of cards maybe?"

We spent about the next hour pleasurable swapping spit and sharing other bodily fluids. Then he left to get the keys. I told him to be careful. If he wasn't back I'd just have to sit out on the path and get arrested. I didn't care about the nudity any more but I'd prefer to avoid the police record and the newspaper articles.

He got out and back ok and had the key box with him. He cuffed me back to the tree one more time and fucked us both to our orgasm then let me go. He had brought a long t-shirt from home and I wore that back to the car where we retrieved my real clothes. To prove a point and seeing nobody around I stripped off and changed into them right there in the parking lot beside his car in the full, bright moonlight. He was impressed.

When he got me home he was kind of tenuous as to if we were home or he was just dropping me off and going to his. I told him his presence in my bed would not bother me a bit and he was perfectly safe. I was going to spend the next half-hour in the shower and then be in bed. Sleeping. I'd had a pretty long, stressful day, you know. He could of course do anything he wanted as normal as long as he understood it wasn’t likely I was going to wake up for it. We had a quiet and uneventful night of just sleep.

Monday morning I was in school in a skirt and a blouse unbuttoned down past my cleavage. Scott appreciated that. Several other guys did too. Really deep cleavage, tight bra, tight shirt, not-quite knee-length button-down-the-front blue jeans skirt with the bottom half of the buttons unbuttoned. Nope, no panties but I only flashed Scott once. On purpose. In class. He didn’t choke; he did well.

It was more leg than I would have shown in the shower six months ago but I was here showing it all day and in all my classes. Whatever. That was then, this is now. Scott took me out to lunch and didn't bother me. We just had a good time and I was almost over my experience on Saturday. He didn't bother me that evening either; he had a new job that kept him busy most of the evenings. I had a good time to myself reliving Saturday but this time when I was strapped all the way down and opened wide the guys with the football did find me (no Marilyn involved). The sexy things they made me do, tied naked flat on my back, helpless, spread wide, and begging them to do whatever they wanted but just do it quietly, brought an earth-shattering orgasm that sent me straight off to sleep.

Tuesday went the same. Same idea in clothes but this time in a mini-dress with ample cleavage. I had never worn that dress out of the house before and even then had never worn it without panties. I kept my legs closed; it wasn’t a problem. They ogled, so what. That’s what men did. It was a compliment, a recognition of how good a figure I had and I chose to take it that way. Scott and others who saw it appreciated it. I appreciated being appreciated. No lunch and no other activity but Scott was off the next night, Wednesday night, and asked me if I would (well, he did ask but of course there was no other answer) spend it at his house. Which I was ok with. The fantasy that night was that I had been found by a large group of hunky guys just before dark while I was still handcuffed to the tree and stretched out. Helpless and outnumbered I watched as they freed me of everything but the handcuffs and made me walk to their party site by the water still naked and carrying the chain that was still locked around my ankles in my handcuffed hands. Once there the other end of the chain was attached to their fire pit and I was forced to serve them all their beers and later serve all their desires all over my helpless and yielding body. Didn't knock me out this time but did really relax me.

Wednesday waving the space between my breasts in everybody's faces was getting boring so it was a tunic-style mini dress. I no longer gave a crap about boys ogling me so it didn’t matter what I wore. I had a good body and it was time for a little ROI. Scott wanted a postage stamp and I had a lot of things that once upon a time I would only wear around the house but really weren’t unreasonable in public. Some pushing scandalous but not unreasonable. They wouldn’t kick me out of class for wearing them. Hopefully.

And I found it quite fun to screw with the heads of the boys around me (both heads). Entertaining. I had a trim figure, nice legs and huge breasts. Lots of options, lots of fun to be had. And a lot of outfits in my closet that had never seen the light of (outside) day but were going to now. I couldn’t do much on Scott except for limited periods of time (like in class), he could always order me off and use me to deal with any problems I caused him. Then again, with his new job it was harder for him to spend time with me. If I worked it right I might be able to run his balls blue when he had no time to make me fix it. And I had decided that from here on out I’d be using my body and appearance to leave a blue-colored trail of devastation through every other boy around me. It’d be fun. I was already enjoying the thought.

I marveled a little bit at the new uninhibited (unleashed?) me. Where did this woman come from? The one who six months ago would not have worn a skirt or dress that did not cover her knees 24x7 was now planning to, and giggling about being, the star of delightfully unrequited masturbatory fantasies of a lot of helpless victims and was giddy at the thought. Had I no mercy? (Nope. Nada. Zilch. Zero. I had a body, a good one, a perfectly usable weapon, and a TON of wasted time to make up for. This new uninhibited woman had always been inside of me just beaten with a broom by life until it knew its place which was cowering quietly in a lost corner. No more. That was discarded Saturday along with a lot of other useless things). Their reaction to how I was looking now? That was their problem, each of them. I am not responsible for what you think just like you have no control over what I do and what I wear. I might even as an unnoticed side effect be doing them a favor by giving them something to bone off about at night. But never find out what it would be like. Nope, no never. But wondering. Yup, being that sort of arsonist would be a blast.

Scott took me home and once his front door was closed stripped my clothes off me (well, my dress. It was all I was wearing). I hadn't had a real cock since Saturday so I was kinda looking forward to it. 

But it turned out to be a really rough night. Scott took egregious advantage of my new compliancy. And when the morning came I hurt a bit in a few places. Not violent, just rough. Way too rough. I think he was trying to figure out how far he could go with the new me and had blown it. The bubble had popped. I would still do and wear anything he wanted; I knew what fighting him on that got me. But now I was scared at what being too compliant, too open would get me after seeing what it got me Wednesday night. A lot of the old walls and attitudes had clanged back into position. I was no longer the wet-dreamy airhead I could see I had happily and stupidly been most of the week. In fact quite a lot of my old fears and problems had been confirmed and my defenses put firmly back in place. For my own protection. While I had learned the folly of fighting Scott I was pretty much back where I was pre-Fernando Rocks.

Continues in


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