by XVX

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© Copyright 2014 - XVX - Used by permission

Storycodes: MF; M/f; F/m; roleplay; costumes; outdoor; characters; bond; tape; rope; chain; hogtie; stuck; rom; sex; climax; cons; X

It all started by watching the nature channel. Maggie and I were just snuggling while watching kangaroos. Maggie wondered why the legs of the kangaroo always seemed locked together. After much research she did not get it. I admit Maggie can be a bit thick headed. Worse. Just as stubborn. So in a random act of stupidity. I decided to have her understand by being a kangaroo.

Now I am ex-army. I was in the combat battalion. Civil engineer. I like to know the mechanics of the way things worked. I was always big into Lego, Erector sets. That sort of thing. An IED zapped me good. Left leg got torn up bad. They managed to save it but the nerve damage was severe. I have to walk with a cane.

Maggie is a saint. She waited for me and we got married soon as I could barely walk. I don’t make any bones about it. But it washed me out of the army. So I moved back to Maine. I drive heavy equipment and putter around in my father's hardware store. We live in my grandfather's place since he moved to Florida.

It is a nice little farm. Six miles out of town. I do mean little. ‘It-will-dew’ acres we call it. Twenty acres that for the most part. Half is not usable due to the hills and gullies. The other half we lease out. Small pasture land. We do a small trade in honey and maple syrup.

My grandfather used to make saddles and wagons. He claimed to have made a saddle for John Wayne but no one could prove otherwise. Not that we wanted to anyway. His saddle shop and workshop are in a barn behind the cabin. I tinker in there every so often. I remember growing up and watching him work and he would put me to work. I like working with my hands. It's where we keep the boiler for the syrup and spinner for the honey.

Maggie is five foot three, blond with big brown eyes. Doe eyes I think of them. She likes to knit, sew, and does dress alterations and quilting. I learned long ago that she will use those pretty doe eyes on you to get what she wants. She is my high school sweet heart and up until this point in our lives. We manage. No bills. Aside from cable and the electric bill. Got our own well. So things where pretty much set.

Often as not. Maggie has to be shown something to ‘get it’. So for her to get some idea as to the how and why of two legs working together work. I used a broken broom handle and a duct tape and viola. They sort of locked the legs together, when she got it, she got it. I never seen her so excited. She even wore the stupid thing to bed. She even wanted to ‘mate’ with me.

So a few weeks went by and again she want to try some other ‘animal‘. It was walking on all fours. But with very tiny legs. Giraffe was the inspiration. So after a while. I duct taped the feet to some one by fours about three feet long. I wrapped it so the top of the foot was flat against the board. Immobilizing the ankle. I stopped at mid-calf. I did the same to hands with longer boards. Stopping about half way up the forearm. The trick was getting her up on all fours. I used friction tape on the end of the board so she could not slip. Our cabin has hardwood floors. Nice ones. I did not want her marking them up.

Seeing her stride like a giraffe. She walked around on all fours. Moving one leg at a time. She wanted to mate with me. I was intrigued and had to be careful not to get slapped by a board. I had to cut her out in the morning.

We have some free time on the weekdays. Sunday dinner with the folks is the only big thing we have. Maggie was really starting to get into this being an animal. To be honest. So was I. But my angle was how to make this work. The mechanics of motion. Since my leg was pretty well torn up. This got me thinking along those lines. The trick was how could I join in the fun.

After a few days in the shop. I had it. Took another few day to crank out a pair for her and me. The hands and arms were in a leather sleeve. They had a crutch like extension. The feet went into another sleeve and buckled on. Walking around was fun. You got an odd frame of mind. We even tried eating dried cereal out of a bowl. We were about even with the dining room table standing that tall on all fours.

I never laughed so hard as I watched Maggie trying to lick a cheerio off her nose. And yes we tried it doggie style. That was fun for a while but Maggie and I were watching The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe and she was really taken with the Mr.Tumnus, The faun. The movie did make a distinction between fauns. A half deer and half man. And satyrs. Which are half goat and half man.

“I want hooves.” She said with authority and those brown eyes locked onto me. I was sunk.

Worse she wanted them as real as possible.

Now both creatures have the back legs of said animal. So they walk backward. Us humans walk by sort of leaning forward and the legs kind of catch up. But for a digitigrades walker or backward legs. Chicken legs if you will. The animal pulls itself along and the body kind of plays catch up. The internet helped in some designing and I knew ‘mating’ was going to be involved. It always had. You worked within your limitations and I will admit. It was fun.

Now the movie did not show any female of fauns or satyr. Or none that I could recall. But it made sense that somehow you would. So I was not going to debate that with Maggie. Remember she can be stubborn. So I started looking a different designs. To give the hooves a bending quality. The toes had to be inside. So the hoof had to be hollow. Not standing on top of a wooden hoof.

I showed a rough mock up of my work so it would meet with her approval. It was like a high heel shoe without the heel. Braces that went up the side and back of the foot and calf. To make our legs look like they were of the hind end of deer. Maggie made pads or pillows. A triangle shaped on the back of the calf, a small round one on the knee and another on the front of the thigh. Those fake pads made our legs look backwards. It worked.

A Velcro sock was attached to the hoof. That covered the lacing and bracing. Then fur came down over the sock and attached to the front and sides. A length of long hair was added around the ankle to hide the zipper and Velcro flap at the sides and back of the ankle and hair was added around the ankles. To hide the zipper on the back that closed the cuff of the furry pants. It was a seamless blend and took a good four weeks to make it happen. There was some tweaking.

Wigs with horns where added. A small band of elastic along with some spirit gum kept it in place. Maggie always wanted long blond hair and me I got a black curly one. The pants had a belt and an elastic waist band. I was a black faun and she was more of rose red color. She added a white butt to each so we looked like a white tailed deer. And a little spade tail. Soon we were a pair of half wild animals.

After some more adjustments where needed to be made for us to ‘mate’. Slots where made but to keep the weather out we made a loincloth like bags. A seed bag/wallet/fanny pack to cover up our private parts. Going number one was easy. For number two. We had to drop the pants. The hooves are about three time bigger than a real goat hoof. It was the only way I could get my fat feet inside them.

For the top she made a wrap for her. Me I got a vest and the red scarf she knitted. We paced around the house getting our legs. The bracing made it hard for you to stand straight up you had to bend your knees to walk. That accented the backward bent of the legs. Try it sometime. Stand on tip toe and bend the knees. You can see it. I had the inside of the hoofs padded and insulated. The bottom of the wooden hoof had a leather sole to avoid marking up the floors.

I was all set to ‘mate’ when she refused.

“Woo me with you charms.”

“Woo? How do you woo?” She then went to the back bedroom and emerged with my old flute.

One of my more embarrassing high school moments was my wanting to be in a rock band. Worse I was a huge Jethro Tull fan. A flute in a rock band. How cool is that. I was into football. Track. Wrestling. I was the jock who played a flute. So I could fall on both side of the geek/jock debate. I was happy she did not get a pan pipe.

So I played a few chords and tried my best to remember the thing Romeo said to Juliet at the balcony scene. All I could remember was the line. 'Juliet is the sun'. I said Maggie instead. then she giggled.

“Thou are a fool. Thou will know thy name and thee. Thou are Oak. Thy is Jasmine.”

This took me for a loop. She smiled and I got it.

This was not some quick dress up role play thing. She wanted to be someone else and me along with it. Fauns. Or the ones in her mind where old English speakers. I think what got her in that frame of mind was me badly doing Shakespeare. So it was its all my fault I have to talk this way when we are fauns. I also got the idea that while we are fauns. She wanted romance. She sits on the ottoman and I would have to play my flute. Say some poetry and then it was petting and cooing.

In her mind. Fauns are big into foreplay. Touching and petting. There is an old Jeff Foxworthy joke that men are bottle rockets in bed. Women, once you get them going are a diesel engine and they will run for a very long time. Maggie/Jasmine was like that.

I was Oak because I was tall and strong. I do stand a good six one. Five eleven as a faun. She was Jasmine which in her mind meant small flower. She stands about five one as a faun. Also because I had added bracing on my legs. I did not need a cane. It also worked a different set of muscles. It felt more natural for me. So we spent the day and night as Oak and Jasmine.

Once out of costume Maggie’s eyes locked on to me. I knew I was in trouble.

“I want a place we can be Oak and Jasmine.”

I got the hint. The cabin was just too human for fauns. I have no cave and no basement. It was while on out on morning rounds of syrup colleting I saw it. Maggie saw it too.

It used to be where an old round grain bin stood. Many years ago a storm knock the thing over and the wood had been hauled away. In fact most of it was leaning against the side of the barn just rotting away. It was in a natural depression about twenty five feet in diameter. I had in mind a circus tent sort of thing over it. A center pipe that could act as a chimney and roof support. I knew there had been an electrical outlet here once upon a time.

Thank god it was spring because it took me most of the summer to put it together. It was hard for Maggie to accept that I was going to have to use a metal pipe but I was concerned for safety. I wanted this thing to stand up all year round.

I sank a ten foot tall metal pipe about six inches in diameter. I had a flange at about the eighteen inches from the top with a two foot wire basket like device out from it. It also had notches for the poles that would radiate out to the edge of the circle. This was to be my roof support. I sunk the pipe a good three foot down into a concrete base. At about the four foot mark there was a hole that a fire box attached too. For the floor I put down a good three inches layer of sand. Play sand. No rocks. I also sank a pit or a sump for any water that did get in to drain into. It could serve as a toilet in a pinch.

The circular walls were about three foot high concrete block with an opening for us to walk down into. Like a ramp. Evenly spaced around where points of a canvas tent made into pie slices would be anchored. A metal ring that went over the stove pipe was the narrow end of the ‘pie’ attached too. Then poles of about twelve feet long radiate out to support the canvas underneath. Maggie did most of sewing and tried to disguise the inside of our love hut. Sewing bits of fur or painting symbols on it.

If was after everything was put together I found my error. A minor one. I was too tall for the hut. Let me run you through the math. Ten foot pole. Minus three foot is seven feet. But I had the roof starting at eighteen inches from the top because I wanted to give the smoke time to cool so it could not spark or set the roof on fire. That is where I messed up. Then for fun subtract three inches for the sandy floor.

The roof at it very peak was five three. It only got shorter from there. Okay even as a faun I was tall. I was going to be doing a lot of crouching inside. Maggie. Not so much.

During all this time I had been reading up on my Shakespeare and getting few sonnets memorized. I also made a few of my own. Because while all this work was going on. We did not become Oak and Jasmine. Oh I would practice with my flute and get the peck on the cheek. But I did not even get a chance to go up to bat. If you get my meaning.

I covered the roof with rotten hide from the barn and when I was done. The chimney was the only thing you could recognize. Later I made a false looking tree stump out of plaster. There was a flap at the door and another covered the entrance. So it looked like a small dead tree on top of a sloping hill.

Maggie went to work on the inside, the concrete block walls where covered with hide or wood that used to be part of the grain bin. By the time she was done. You could not see it had any metal or stone work supporting it. It looked very native. I made few boxes and crates to hide coolers. The fire box could be used to cook on. An eight inch fry pan could fit on top of it nicely.

Maggie began experimenting with chuck wagon cooking. Then Dutch oven style. The only drawback was she proclaimed that faun do not eat meat…. unless it was squirrel or rabbit. Slain deer, killed by something other than a faun, where skinned then their remains were buried. Killing a deer was like killing your cousin. But I liked the biscuits and the dutch apple pie was to die for. We had a cell phone in case of emergency. I did have an electric outlet but it was hidden along with the cell phone and charger. No TV or radio.

It was late august when Oak and Jasmine returned to move in. We settled down for a planned overnight stay. It became two. She would knit and prattle on about her ‘made up day‘. Tell me tales of her faun relatives and antic of a satyr known as ‘Buck’.

I would go out gathering. That meant me doing the everyday thing of getting the maple sap and collecting nuts. The nut collecting was easy. I would get prepared supplies from the barn. I would play the flute and speak of our love. She would hum and sing along as a played. Maggie was in a swing choir in high school. She does have a good singing voice. I was not the best conversationalist but Maggie's imagination was in over drive. I would noodle on the flute and listen to her or just watch her knit humming some little tune she'd make up. I liked it.

Looking down at my hooves and fur covered legs. I was in my mind a faun. The human troubles seemed so far away and distant. Like in a dream. I was a faun dreaming of a human and all the things they did and responsibly that they had. A fauns life seemed so much simpler. Satyrs where the bad cousins that made the faun's life difficult. But that was minor.

Satyr's where bad goats. Faun's had the spade like tail and some had the white butts. But that was it. From a distance you might not tell them apart. They were always getting into trouble and us fauns along with it. Us fauns however where sort of the Amish in the world view but satyr soured the milk.

I would woo her. Then we would start touching and nuzzling. Nibbling on each other. Lately I had been letting a short ‘goat’-tee grow on my face. This tickled her. Oh the fun I would have with that. To hear her laugh would bring sunshine to a rainy day.

When we were not Oak and Jasmine. I would be at the hardware store on the weekend or at the folks on Sunday dinner. Monday night Oak and Jasmine would return. Sometimes for a day or two. But on Friday morning they would vanish. I would see her at her laptop writing out things. Talking to me about what a faun is. Their day to day life.

Maggie was really getting into this faun thing. So was I. My leg seemed to be stronger. My overall attitude was better, I used to be a bit bitter and sour, Now I was more open and jovial. Being a faun made my life as a human better.

The fall leaves covered the hut very well. But I had to removed them so they would not be a possible fire hazard.

‘Mating’ as I like to call it. Has a deeper meaning that a quick roll in the hay. There is a procedure and mating call or certain things required of both parties. Wooing would be one word. She would let out this half cat purr dog whine when she was getting warmed up.

The frame of mind was far different that just soulful fulfillment. You sort of build up to it. We tried dancing. It was not very good for either of us. The low ceiling inside made it hard and playing and dancing around is harder than it looks. She would cavort a little while I played. But it seemed we would ‘faun’ over each other till dawn.

Maggie faun tales had more depth. She also spoke of a human called the ‘hunter’ who wanted to do us faun harm. She spoke of seeing a small human girl she saw in the distance. I was suspecting she was putting the elements of a really good story together.

As fall started to turn to winter. I was concerned about us being fauns in the snow and cold. The cold was just too dangerous. Our legs where warm and toasty with the fur and padding. What we lacked was sufficient jackets and head gear. Something Maggie had to figure out. Or knit. In the meantime. Something else came into play.

She thought about making up an animal.

Its movement has to be unique.

Weeks passed and I was sort of at a loss. Again the nature channel gave me sort of an answer. Maggie was trying to emulate a seal on the ground. Watching her ass moving up and down inspired me. My thought was what if it movement where slightly different and had not any flippers.

That being aside it was mid-September where a new pet entered the scene, A Hump-a-lump.

Here how it works. You wear a head harness. Two poles are connected to the head and feet. The poles are threaded through metal loops on a belt. The feet are wrapped together. The poles attach the ankles and to the sides of the head. The head can only move up and down. Not side to side. Locomotion is achieved by scrunching up and putting the head down. Then as you push forward the head is forced back up. You ungulate like a porpoise or dolphin.

The hands are on a pole about a foot long. Fingers can’t touch. A handcuff is on the right and a slip knot is on the left end. This is our failsafe. There are two holes in the pole which allow the hand pole to slide up and down the backside sliding up and down. They have to. I connected a rod at the back of the head to the hand bar. So as the head comes up along with the knees. The hands go down.

So you belly slide. I had knee pads that could grip the floor. You can’t roll on your backside because the metal loops on the back of the belt will mark up the floors. You also have to put the head down to make any movement possible.

Once I had Maggie all rigged up she had a bit of trouble working it out. But like always. Once she got it. She got it. She started making little sounds. Trying to get a feeling of what hump-a-lump would sound like. Grunting and whooping seemed the primary ones. Bathroom breaks were every eight hours as she was trying to see how long she could stay like this. Another problem was she was sliding on her breasts but a heavy wool sweater did the trick.

A week later I was set. During that week watching her humping around the cabin was getting me charged up. I would watch her rest like cat warming itself by the electric fireplace. The low glow of firelight reflecting off the metal and wood restraints. I got horny every time I looked at her. Plus our floors never looked better. I also added love handles to the belts around the waist so we could grip and hang onto each other.

Out first mating was not an over whelming success. My joystick had trouble getting access to her play station. Maggie made suit of left over fur, It was a wild patchwork and had elastic slits. Slamming my joystick on the floor was no treat. Maggie fashioned some sort of funnel that gave me better access. She said felt weird because it was so drafty down there.

Intercourse of humping was done on the side. We had to coordinate our movement and not bang heads with each other. The act of swooning where to get me and her pumping in time where the head rolls and I get my member into her. One small surprise was that sliding around on the floor and if the humidity was right we would shock each other. That was fun.

At Maggie's instance and at my reluctance we added a padded gag. I added a small brass tube that produced a whistle sound and also could be using to suck in water from a pie plate. Then we would be at opposite ends of the cabin blindfolded. Using whooping and whistle clicks to find one another. The cabin is a three bedrooms, living room, dining roomand kitchen. One half bath, one full bath. Now I knew it by heart. Or so I thought I did. I bumped into a lot of things.

Then Maggie had a stroke of genius. She found a way to connect those personal sport cameras to each of us. Head mounted. Then a small lcd screed on a visor. The trick was we were blind to each other yet the video of what she saw was transmitted to my visor and vice versa to her. It was weird because I could get a sense where she was at but not where I was.

I never had such a hard on in my life and Maggie was really into it.

Hump-a-Lump where pure carnal lust creatures. Sex was their only goal and how often. Once we got off. We had to find a neutral part of the cabin then seek each other out again. But we could not take a hump-a-lump outside. Another creature showed up. It was late August she made a mermaid and merman tail for both of us.

I think she wanted to get her ‘Aerial’ on. The bathtub was the best water source we had to offer. It was tricky but after a week of that. It was back to hump-a-lumping.

Centaurs came up but that fell down just a quickly. I could fashion a false rear end but having sex was a problem. She and I could not have a way of doing it the ‘right’ way.

Early October she came into the living room with a bag and dressed as Jasmine. One of the rules was we could talk human in the cabin. Outside it was old English.

She wanted me to tie her up! As Jasmine… in a hog tie!

I was concerned as to why. Maggie’s brown eyes locked on to me and I knew she had me.

She explained her story was at an impasse. She was stuck. Her muse, Jasmine had not inspired her. Or at least not yet.

Her story so far was the Hunter was working for someone who had killed the local baron and his wife but their young daughter had escaped. Purely by chance and with a little help from Jasmine who helped her escape. It was though the graces of the baron that fauns where left alone.

However the baron's cousin had learned of the gold and riches within the valley the fauns now lived. Fauns have no use for gold. With the riches this cousin could take from the fauns. He could raise an army that would plunge the whole country into war. He wanted to be king.

Nice plot.

A little Snow White kind of tale but on the whole I liked it.

So… Jasmine finds Oak. Oak is a smart guy. More of the brains of the outfit. Jasmine is heart on her sleeve kind of gal. He knows the Hunter will track them to their home. Yet he knows the little girl. Heather. Is in danger. He has no one he can trust and the only safe place is the king. Or so he hopes.

Until he can find someone he can trust. And to protect him and his Doe. (Jasmine, male fauns are called Staggs so I am told.) He stashes Heather someplace safe.

Meanwhile the hunter tracks down Jasmine and catches her in their hut. He know that she is bonded (married) to the male. He binds and gags her then wait for Oak to return. She is the bait for his trap.

While waiting he torments and taunts her. He pokes her with the butt end of his knife. Says thing about them and his plans once he has framed the fauns for the death of Heather.

Maggie plan is for me to tie her up and I play the role of the Hunter.

I am to really tie her up. She wants to... No… needs to feel that helpless. That any minute Oak will return and fall into the hunters trap.

I am no actor but this was just on the wrong side of weird. But damm those eyes. I do the dirty deed. Hands and feet bound together, a tight gag to muffle and muzzle any sound.

I then go outside and rub dirt on my face and hands. Then I come back into see my wife trying to get free and failing. I am the Hunter now.

I use my foot to roll her over on her side. I use a duster handle as my knife. I tease and poke her. She glares at me.

I add a venomous tone to my voice. I channel every Disney villain I can think of. I say thing like what a freak she is. That soon she and all her clan will be skinned or put to the block. I play with her face the butt end of my ‘knife’. Wondering how her mate would recover after seeing her scarred and cut up. My ‘knife’ wanders down to her breasts.

Maggie/Jasmine is really scared. She is breathing rapidly. I had the same feeling after I got zapped. The fear. The breathing . The doubt. I was getting to her. My ‘knife’ wandered down the valley of the breast and slowly to the transition line of the costume. Maybe I should make it so she never has children. (foundlings they are called.)

Jasmine begins to cry muttering pleases. And ‘beg of thee‘. But the gag is wedge in. It comes out nothing like the words she is trying to say. She really tries to get free. I was a damm good boy scout. My prize is not getting away. She lets loose a scream. I put an hand on her neck. I threaten to snap it. Or maybe I should give her something to cry about. Maybe I break her legs.

Fauns are not fighters. Oh the male will defend if cornered but their main defense is running. Just the right twist and she will be hobbling along just I do in real life. I do not know where all this vile and hatred came from. But I suspect it was pent up emotions from long ago. It now had focus and an outlet. The Hunter.

I was in a bad state of mind. I was either going to rape my own wife or mutilate her.

Our safe word was more of grunting code. Three short thee long three short. SOS. She grunted it out. Twice. I snapped back to my old self and ungagged her. I pulled her in hug and apologized. I never knew that kind of person was in me. I never wanted to be that kind of person. It was Maggie that had kept me from being that since the day I came back. I untied her and she and I just cuddled.

On Halloween we decide not to dress up for other people. We ran the community haunted house and I was ticket taker. She played a ghost. For Now. Oak and Jasmine were to be kept to ourselves.

It had not snowed yet. But in Maine. That don’t mean much. You might have heard of the witch of November. Arctic force winds that are a near hurricane level.

It was mid-November when the witch paid a visit. I was just past five. I was driving back from the hardware store and freezing rain was hitting. Forecast was going to be six to ten inches and forty plus mile and hour winds. White out conditions. Best thing to do was hunker down and wait it out.

My chief worry was Maggie had gone to Bangor which is a good two hour drive in good weather. She left just before the sun came up. Waking up next to a note saying she had to go was not what I like to see. But I knew she had to go. For the most part Maggie is a home body. But I know that cabin fever and letting someone express herself and doing her own thing is a good thing. Hopefully she got what she wanted in the way of sewing supplies at the fabric store. She could have beat me back.

As my truck pulled next to the house, Ice was hanging from every tree limb. I was relieved to see her car parked ahead of me. What I did not find in the cabin was Maggie. I did see my Oak costume laid out. Along with something that looked like a sweater and knitted poncho. Blast it. She was in the hut and I knew she was not coming out unless Oak got her. If I showed up as me. I would be the Hunter. She made that very clear. I did not want me to ever to be that again.

Remember that stubborn streak.

I added a thermal pants and shirt just in case. Not in period of the time I know. But there was a safety issue so I was willing to let that pass. The hut was a good fifty yards away. Visibility was good. So getting there was no problem. I left the back cabin light on to guide me back. On the safe side. I took a blanket with me. Beef jerky. Two cans of beans. A can of fruit cocktail. Two cans of stew. A can opener. Then grabbed a bundle of firewood. The cabin is all electric. The real fireplace was blocked up some time ago. I chop wood and stack it next to the house out of habit.

Slogging thought the ice and growing snow was not too bad. The trick was not to get wet. The cold will freeze anything wet. I was going to have to let my wet furry legs dry out before making our way back to the cabin. Fauns do not use scotch-guard.

I entered and found my beloved half buried under a pile of furs. They were new and all fake. Thankfully nothing in purple or pink. Mostly natural colors. It looked like the bedroom of Conan the Barbarian. She placed a finger to her lips indicating I be silent. Then patted the pile of furs next to her. She had that come to bed look. Those big brown eyes. They twinkled in the fire light. I forgot to duck and hit my head coming in. She smiled. Oh that smile.

So dropping my packages at the door. I crawled on hands and knees. If my little deer tail could wag. It would making its own breeze.

I need time to dry out before making the trek back. I figured we had a little time.

I climbed the mound of fur slowly. This was some new game I suspected. She placed a finger on my lips so to remind me to be quiet. Then pulled a number of furs away forming a valley. She rolled me into the valley. Then like a rag doll she rolled me onto my stomach. She then started to tie me up in a hog tie.

I felt guilty about me being The Hunter. I wanted to hurt my wife and might have if Maggie had not grunted our safe word. So I was allowing it. I also figure she was role playing the moment after Oak had returned. She was stuck again. Her muse had nothing to say.

The Hunter had captured us both and was back tracking me. What the hunter did not know was Oak did not take a straight path from the fishing cave he left the little girl Heather. He also needed us alive to complete his plan of framing us and fauns in general for Heather's death. Thus if we got free. We could beat the Hunter there.

That is about as much as the story I knew of. Once or twice I would catch Maggie in her faun legs trying to channel her inner faun while at the keyboard to her lap top.

She tested her bonds on me and made sure they were snug. Then gagged me. I was in a dreamy like state of letting my mind think I was recovering from a heavy blow that stunned me from the Hunter. Once she was done fiddling around with my hooves. She threw a fur blanket over me.

I struggled to get my head out. It was hard because the valley of nylon hair makes it hard for a fur coated person with no hands to get any traction. You just sort of slip and slide all over. I also felt Maggie/Jasmine doing the same. When I finally got my head out and saw my lovely mate had gagged herself.

Ok. I know this scene. We were now officially Oak and Jasmine captured by the Hunter. I personally knew what that bastard was capable of. I needed to get free. But Jasmine feelings where quite different. She let out that half purr puppy whine I had come to know as her desire to mate during our ‘fawning‘ foreplay.

Her fear was that if this was going to be their last night together. Let that moment be a night of passion and love.

My brain went south. Those brown eyes begging me to do the thing she wanted to do. Against my better judgment, I complied.

Hump-a-lump training prepared me for this. It’s a lot harder than it looks. The weather outside. The image threat of our impending doom. It really added some spice to the whole thing. Oak was in rare form. I was never more proud of myself than at that night.

Once I had satisfied our carnal lust. I figured it was time for us to go home. Our real home. I figured she had tied me up using slip knots. But after some struggling I found that was not the case. She really tied me up! Worse in my struggles. My fingers found metal where there should not be. I thought it might be the bracing inside the fur and the fur had slipped off. But no. This was a sold round piece of metal and I could feel a padlock.

She had me manacled both ankles to a chain. A sharp pull showed the my manacled hooves on a chain that led to the center pole. I thought I felt something pulling on my legs during our mating. But I thought that was my hooves getting hung up on the fur.

Maggie mention that the Hunter was into slavery of some kind. He would have something like these manacles handy.

I grunted the SOS code. Thinking that she was in slip knots and had the key. I watched her wiggle and struggle. Her face went to a playful smile to a look of dread. She returned with the SOS code.

Now what?

Realizing that something in her plan had gone wrong. I struggled with help from Maggie/Jasmine to get to my knees and throw off her covers. She was hogtied like I was and both hooves manacled. But her chains led to mine and mine led to the center pole. A slave line.

I had her roll over and somehow the hemp rope was just a snarl of knots. It even wrapped around her little deer tail. My guess she messed up somewhere in trying to do a slip knot and the rope unbraided itself and now she was snared.

The wind and weather sounded worse. We had to get out.

She tried to say something and I think the word ‘free’ was in it. I grunted ‘no’ back. Maybe if I could get the can opener by the door I might saw away my bonds. It would have to be Jasmine to do it. She had the longer lead. But trying to say anything with that gag and keep in character was impossible. Trying to crawl while hogtied was frustration enough. I tried to spit the gag out but the damm thing was wedged in tight.

I had an idea. This was a gutsy move.

The fire box had a sandy pit around it. It also does not rest on the ground. It's a mini fireplace with a door and flat top like a pot belly stove. Like a drum with the stove pipe on the side. Not the middle. I got the idea from the Franklyn stove. I made a modification or two and ol’ Ben would have been proud.

My plan was I was going to use the bottom edge of the fire box. Hoping the heat and rough edge would cut away my bonds. The problem was I was backing my furry ass up to a exposed flame. I could catch on fire.

Dragging Maggie with me was not what I wanted to do. But it had to be done.

Once I backed up to the fire box she knew what I was up to. I started slowly. If I rubbed too vigorously I might cause a ember to shake loose and fall on me or her. I was thinking like Oak. I was using my brains and wits to get out of situation. Jasmine was a bundle of emotions. Oak was a rational thinker. The perfect pair.

The smell of hemp. Or was it fur. Filled my nose. I think Maggie was next to me on fire watch. Looking for any falling embers. In a burst of strength I was free. I undid the ropes at my hooves and got the damm gag out. I was able to communicate. I did not have a knife. Maggie bonds where just a rats nest of hemp and needed to be cut away. Plus I did not want her near the fire.

I undid her gag. I explained I had a device that may free us. I do not know why I was speaking in the old tongue. It was just habit.

However as I soon learned that Maggie was not going to be able to reach it. The chain was not long enough. Plus she could not reach it with her hands still bound.

I then thought about us being unchained. I am pretty sure Maggie had these made up. I have a wielder in the barn. I could see they were well made. Maggie has no welding skills that I know of. She had a right sized pipe cut in half. Added a hinge and had welded chains to them. Then laced on leather around them so they could not cut into you and made them tighter. They fit snugly, I thought about trying to slip them off. but the manacle was tight enough to prevent me from accessing the buckles to kick off my hooves.

The locks where old. The kind you might see on a western movie on a stagecoach strong box. My grandfather had a number of them. He collected a lot odd stuff. I felt I had to break character. I asked where they key was.

“They are on your keychain.” Then covered her mouth as if to stuff the words back in. She hated breaking character. She also knew the minute she said that she realized her error.

I kept one key on my keychain that would fit those lock ever since I could remember. I was my good luck charm. But Maggie forgot I would not have my keychain with me as Oak.

Now the locks where easy to pick I just needed a piece of metal to do it with. The can opener might work. But I needed that to untie Maggie. To untie Maggie I needed the key which I did not have or piece of metal like the can opener. Catch 22.

So I relented in positioning Maggie near the fire box and slowly guided her hands across the Gordian knot of a hemp rope under the fire box. Her head was between my knees. To any one walking in it looked like she was giving me a blow job.

Once she was free of her rope bonds. It was the chains. We tried. I was right. The sack lay two feet beyond her reach.

I sighed. Think Oak. Think.

Maggie crawled around and nestled back into the pile of furs. She knew she screwed up and I was angry with her. But I felt we could discuss that later. If we ever get out of this. I know we are going to laugh.

As I was looking around. She looked at me with those brown eyes and smiled saying, ‘Please’.

Oh that ‘please‘. I hear angels sing when she says that that way. That word. That smile. Those eyes. The dreaded triple whammy.

Lord take me now for I have already seen heaven.

I tried to rally my pitiful defense but I was lost. My anger melted. I crawled to her like a love sick puppy on a chained leash. My leash was five foot maybe seven to the center pipe and another five from me to her. There was no escape for me.

She was kneeling and I came up to her. I knew she was sorry. I figure we had nowhere else to go and she wanted to mate again. Oddly the danger of the weather. Us still being chained. Was giving me an odd thrill.

Instead. She took my hand and placed it on her bare belly.

“Thou are twice blessed.” she said.

I was confused. What did she mean?

She read my confusion. Then rummage through the pile of furs and handed me a print out.

“This a scroll from the gods. “ she said. Trying to explain in character how she got it.

Gods? Fauns have gods? When did we get gods?

I open the paper. It was a print out of a sonogram. My wife. My mate. My Doe eyed seductress. She was pregnant with twins.

Knock me over and call me Sally. I was going to be a dad.

Now everything was more clear. She wanted to be Jasmine one more time before it became impractical to do so.

This also empathized that we needed to be free more than ever.

I had nothing nor could I find a single nail or anything I could use as a pick. I settled down. We were safe. But that could not last. The fire would need more fire wood and we would need to eat. I could reach our emergency cell phone but I would not want anyone to try to get to us in this weather. I knew Maggie father, John, would try. He was about as stubborn as she was.

John was a hard charging bull of an ex-marine. Maggie was the youngest of four daughters. Asking his permission to date her was like volunteering to be a practice dummy for a firing squad. Maggie's mother, Joan, had those same brown eyes as she has. In fact all four daughter do. I seen them when they gang up on him. Those big doe like eyes make the old boy melt like butter. But it takes all five of them. I figured over time he built up a resistance to their charms. Me. Maggie is my kryptonite.

I hugged the stuffing out of her. Oh I cannot tell you How happy I was.

You see there was some doubt about how far my nerve damage may have been. My joystick works ok. But could it score the bullseye? The doc’s did not know and I was more concerned about being upright. We'd never discussed children and Maggie was the one who took precautions. Getting a condom on did not seem natural.

I assumed the blessed event happened during our hump-a-lump sessions. Well that is what they do. Have sex till you can’t have it no more.

She wanted me to play something on my flute. I was so mixed up with emotion I was not all that enthusiastic about it. But since I was not going anywhere. She handed me my flute. I played one note and it hit me. I could use the metal tabs and keys to set us free.

You see we never got a ‘period’ looking flute or pan pipe. It was a minor thing and I was not sure I could learn a new way to play a flute. We just imagined that it was the right kind of flute for its time. It also saved us some money. The problem was I was going to have to destroy the flute to make it work. I hesitated. Maggie/Jasmine loved my playing. I'd just have to get it fixed when the time comes.

I tore off the rods that connected the finger fret to the valve holes. Maggie was in shock. But once I got one ankle free then the other. I went to work on her.

Once she was free I got a big wet one planted on me. Yes Oak was a cleaver boy. Wrapping the chain around the pole. I then got the bags and bundle of fire wood placing them next to the center pole. I poked my head out of the door.

The wind was pretty bad. I could not see my hand at arm’s length. I also did not see the back porch light from the cabin.

I checked out cell phone. The charger light was not on. Power failure.

The power lines to our home are buried. That meant the whole town was out of power. It also meant that our electric home could not be heated. In this cold. I could not take the chance of anything happening to Maggie/Jasmine. Worse in a moonless night such as this I could miss the cabin or get turned around.

So our best bet was to stay here. We were warm and safe. We had food. A minor concern was the roof caving in. but I had a roof support pole set up every ten degrees. When I build something. It ain’t gonna break.

The more it snowed. The better. It would be an insulator and the door had a small draft. That helped with the convection of the fire. Air goes thought the door and out the chimney. There is a flue control on the pipe.

Maggie then went into pioneer homemaker mode. We had planned on cleaning out the hut but never got around to it. She had some apples and I had left some maple cans of uncooked maple syrup.

She made biscuits and she cheated by having bacon. She actually needed it for the grease. So today, fauns eat meat. I did an old trick of boiling a little maple juice and pouring it over a bowl of fresh snow. I made maple snow cones.

They also used a can opener. Rule One was safety. It overrides any role play we do as Oak and Jasmine.

I gave hers and my parent a quick call saying we were okay. I was going to check in at noon each day to save battery power.

The storm lasted well into morning and was still going past noon. Everyone was okay. I knew my dad had a fireplace and a generator. Her parents moved in with them before the storm got too bad after the power failure. I was the last of five kids. We had a big house. We started stripping the wood wall of our hut for fire wood, that showed the ugly concrete block. Rule one was in effect.

It was two days until the storm stopped. Still no power. I did recharge the phone while the truck was running. But I needed a front end loader to get out. We were not going anywhere. So with the fire wood I had chopped up. Re-supplying from the cabin. The funny thing is I did this all while wearing the Oak costume.

Maggie and I just made the hut our home. The power was out for four days. Maggie had me chain ourselves up again and we did some serious fawning. She wanted to feel that emotion of the last day on earth. No flute so we had nothing else to do.

Day six of our exile we moved back to the cabin just time to see her father with an excavator. He does construction. I moonlight with him sometimes with him on jobs when he needs an extra hand.

Jasmine and Oak where packed away.

Both our fathers where busy. The hardware store was sold out of generators. Any battery powered was sold out.

John wondered how did we manage with the power out for four days. We showed him out little love nest. We omitted the faun part.

One thing that came to me was I was never into bondage. But this bondage made me better person and was half way responsible for me being a father.

Not all bad things are bad.


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