by Zephyr

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2020 - Zephyr - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; M+/f; mpov; bond; outdoors; denial; ocean; predicament; fantasy; beach; rope; cuffs; rom; nc; XX

Continues from

Part 3 - Riding the Waves

She wanted me to stake her out on the beach. Below the high-water point, from when the tide was rising to after it fell.

I was amiable. She was everything I ever could dream of in bed, willing to screw me any time, hot like a tiger. At twenty, she had the hardest pair of legs I had ever seen, thin and muscular, and like the rest of her, very tan. Her blonde hair fell straight to her lower back, except where it was curled up on her forehead. She had a marvelous 40D chest that was still up and firm. She wore clothes that supported her breasts, although she quite often did not wear a bra. She liked to wear the shortest skirts to work to show off her body and told me stories of the men at work that would ogle her and try to make a move on her. But she didn't dare show the inner her to any of them and without that key, sex for her was not that interesting.

She liked being helpless. She got turned on by being in a situation where she was sexually vulnerable and completely not in control, and preferably getting her brains screwed out. She had been that way since she was about fifteen. She had carried out some autoerotic fantasies and self-bondage but some of her dreams just couldn't be done without help.

We had tried a few of those fantasies and they were bell ringers. She needed my help to work them out and I added to it. She made me swear to be absolutely heartless to her while she was in the middle of a fantasy; the thought that she was helpless and at someone's mercy who could either give her pain or pleasure made her orgasms that much better. She had me promise to never take pity on her and let her out of a fantasy experience early, and if I came up with an embellishment, then I *should* do it. Especially if it reinforced the fact to her that she was at my mercy and unable to resist or stop me from doing it. I had absolute carte blanche in that area.

We drove out about an hour west of the town. We were visiting a place where the shore was composed of rocky cliffs. She knew the spot; a former boyfriend was a surfer and she had discovered the cove one time when he was riding the waves and she was bored. High tide was determined at 4:50 P.M. We climbed down the cliffs to the beach. It wasn't where the surfers went, that was off in the other direction. This was a quiet little private cove, a small fold in the shore, extending in about five hundred feet from the normal shore line, about two hundred feet wide. The cliffs around it rose about fifty feet, and there was a short and unusually steep sandy beach at the end of the cove. The sand must have sloped at about twenty degrees or so. At high tide we had about 40 feet of sand before the water came to us. She pointed to a large rock, and together we carried it to the high part of the tide. We dropped it in the sand, marking the high-water point for tomorrow afternoon, when the real games would begin. We headed back to town.

We had a really wild night, dinner, a pool hall, and a construction zone, but that is a different story. The next day around noon we headed back for her beach. She wore a loose, cutoff top and a pair of micro running shorts, the type that showed off not just her long, luscious, tanned legs, but also several inches of her butt when she bent over. She proved it to me when we stopped at a truck stop just a few miles from where we turned off the highway and onto dirt roads to get to the beach. She looked at a metal and aquamarine necklace in the shape of a thunderbird. I offered to buy it for her, but she just looked straight into my eyes, then deliberately dropped it on the ground.

She turned away from me and then slowly bent over from the waist to pick it up. From the angle, I could see her tits hanging straight down, her shirt falling open from the bottom to give me the full view. And her shorts rode up the crack of her ass until the curve of the bottom of her ass was three inches below the hem of her shorts. After a second, the sound of glass breaking in the restaurant behind us brought her back to reality and she straightened up. She saw the two truckers who had been watching from their table, one of which had dropped the glass, and realized from their angle they had also seen everything. Sheila put the necklace back on the rack, grabbed my hand and whisked me out of the truck stop. She was frowning at first, but by the time we closed the car doors she had a big Cheshire-cat grin on her face.

Another thirty minutes of driving brought us back to the beach. Over the bluff on the left side was a good surfing spot, but back down the road a bit and over the right side was her cove. We shouldered our backpacks and started for the cove.

“I used to have wild fantasies about this...” she told me as we walked. “About being staked out on the beach naked and helpless while someone took advantage of me, and knowing that he was going to walk away from me when he had taken his pleasure, and the tide was on the rise." She shivered sensuously. "Thank you, Jack, for giving this to me. I'll make sure you never regret it."


We crested the bluff and climbed down. The water was a good fifty feet down shore from where the rock was placed. We moved the rock back, well out of the high tide range, and moved to the area between the depression it made and the water.

"Where will it be?" I asked. She looked, then selected a spot, a little closer to the water than I would have. I guessed that at high tide the water could be as much as a foot deep here. But it was her fantasy, so I said nothing. She lay down on the sand, feet toward the water, and stretched her arms out. I reached into my bag and pulled out two spikes, heavy duty and about 15 inches long. Sheila was getting so hot at the thought of her fantasy coming true that she was rubbing her crotch through her shorts.

It took a few minutes to drive the stakes for her wrists all the way into the sand. She spent the time rubbing my back as I worked; she was almost shivering in anticipation. As I finished, she pulled four nylon cuffs from her backpack and wrapped them on her wrists and ankles. I got the first two pieces of rope out. She took off her top and shorts, lay flat on her back and arranged the top and shorts over what they would be covering if she were still wearing them. She put the nose plugs in her nose as I waited. As I tied the first knot to the cuff on her right wrist, she looked me deep in the eyes.

"Thank you," she said.

I smiled, "I'm not done with you yet."

The right wrist was tied to the loop at the top inch of the stake still sticking out of the ground. Soon the left wrist was similarly fashioned. The water was still ten feet below her at its highest.

I took the two stakes for her feet, and measured her legs. I placed them wide enough that the angle of her legs would be well over 120 degrees.

"That's a little wide..." she started, but I just looked back at her.

"If you don't like it, do something about it," I challenged her, knowing full well that she was already naked and her wrists were tied above her; she could do nothing. I pounded the stakes in, then tied the ropes loosely to her ankle cuffs. I started pulling the slack out of the rope on her right ankle. As her legs passed the 90-degree mark she started to complain that it was too wide and that it was starting to hurt. I just looked chillingly at her and slowly kept pulling. She saw my look, got real quiet, and only whimpered a little as I stretched her legs, a few inches at a time, out to the full length. Sometimes it looked like she was hurting, sometimes she was wiggling like she was about to come. I secured the ankle ropes so they were tight and her feet were completely spread out and then came back up and took out the slack on her wrists some more. She was quite tightly strung and quite completely tied.

I leaned down and grabbed her two pieces of covering, threw them far away from her and stepped back to admire the scene. Her blonde hair made a contrast with her completely nude body, her blonde cunt hair a mild contrast to the white sand and then to her brown skin. The curves of her 40D's and her size 6 waist was almost intoxicating. All of a sudden I had a throbbing hard on, a desire to use it, and someone who couldn't resist if she had wanted to. She saw the look in my eyes as well.

She looked up at me, "Well, what are you going to do with me?"

I looked back at her with a wicked grin, "Anything I want to, right?"

She tugged at her wrists and then sort of shrugged back at me as my shirt and shorts hit the sand. "Well, I suppose I could always break free and overpower you..." I was on top of her in an instant and pumping deep into her. Her hands made claws in their bonds above her as I thrust and she arched up the little she could to meet my thrusts. After a few minutes I spurted deep inside her and lay still. She had gotten close but hadn't come and that bothered me, but I reminded myself this was exactly what she wanted.

I sat beside her chest and made little circles with my fingers around her rock-hard nipples. After she calmed down, she looked me straight in the eye. "Do you remember that thunderbird necklace in the gift shop I liked? Go get it for me, right now."

I looked at her as if she had lost her mind, "And leave you unprotected and unwatched? What if some surfers come along? What if the tide gets too high?"

"Well, if someone else comes along, I guess I get raped," she admitted a little too easily. "I'm so horny, I'm not sure I would completely object." She flexed her hips and shimmied a little, her breasts bouncing in her nude spread-eagle. "I guess, like the water level, that's the chance I take. It's all part of my fantasy. Now go and hurry, I want you back before high tide."

I looked down at her, her fantastic body laying strapped out, completely visible and helpless on the sand. It was her fantasy, so I gathered up her clothes and packed them in the backpacks. I picked the packs up and started for the car.

"Hey," she called. "Leave the clothes, just in case."

"As you said, you can always break free and stop me."

I turned around and started to go, but the image of her spread-eagle on the sand was getting to me, and I was hard again. Without a word, I dropped the bags, took my shorts back off and got back between her legs. She could see in my eyes that I was going to take one last fuck before I left; hard, short, and serious. She did nothing to stop me. It was not as if she could, but she closed her eyes as I pseudo-raped her, being rough with her breasts and hard on her cunt. I could hear her grunt each time I rammed into her, how she took short breaths in between and how hot the whole situation made her.

She knew I was getting my rocks off in her this time, and she was just a tool I was using. She also knew that when I was done, just as in her fantasy, I was going to stand up, get dressed, and walk away, leaving her alone and helpless for several hours, at the mercy of things she had no control over. With every stroke she gasped a little deeper, felt a little less in control. Her body was not her own right now and the one who had the control wanted to take her savagely. Her neck started to get quite flushed and I felt her tensing up for her orgasm, but my second one was unstoppable and on its way. She was panting hard and urging me on verbally, starting to shake just a little, but I dropped with my full weight on top of her and lay still as we both felt the spasms of my come blasting deep inside her.

"No, no, no!" she cried, but she was not in control of her destiny at that moment. She tried to thrust around, feeling her peak at the edge, but unable to topple over it. I was flat on top of her recovering from mine, and I wasn't in the mood to let her have hers. I lay still on top of her, and in between my weight and the way she was tightly stretched out, there was nothing she could do but beg, which gained her nothing. As her quivering settled, she felt me shrink up inside of her, twice reminding her of what she craved but was denied.

When I was done, I pulled out, got my shorts back on, picked up the bags and started walking toward the side. I left nothing but the spikes, the ropes, and her naked and helpless body remaining on the beach. She was thrusting around as little as she could, wanting to go over the edge, but there was nothing to touch her there and bring her. As we both knew, she could do nothing to help herself. I continued toward the rock side, her clothes firmly in my hands. She struggled for a while, then realized the uselessness of it. So I left her, her incredible body unclothed, strapped firmly to the beach, horny, helpless to the irrevocable forces of the tide and a sure victim of the mercies of any stranger who might chance upon her. Just as she wanted.

I stopped and took a picture of her from the edge of the sand, then climbed up to the top of the bluff. From the top I could see her naked and stretched body on the sand, the water about a body length from her feet. I snapped a few more pictures. As I was turning to leave, I watched one long, long wave run up and touch her heels. It was a one-in-a-hundred wave, they wouldn’t be getting that high regularly for most of another hour. Then I turned and was gone. She wanted to be alone, naked, and vulnerable on that beach, and to her I gave that wish.

As I turned the last corner to the car, I was startled to find two cars parked beside mine. Both had surfboard racks on top. Just to be safe I climbed the ridge to the surfing beach. In the distance, I saw two people surfing in the water and one prepping a board on the beach. I figured from three to five people could have come in those two cars. I wondered if anyone was right now descending on Sheila's helpless body, about to ravage a luscious form that could not fight back or stop them.

I didn't want to spare the ten minutes to go check on her once again, so I got in the car and got moving. She had wanted the risk, she needed it. It made her as hot as a pistol, but I wondered if some day it would hurt her more than it was worth. I hit the road wondering what was going on at the cove. The water was certainly at her feet right now, the high waves maybe near her knees. Perhaps there were two other surfers, they had been watching us from on top of the cliffs and had seen me leave. Once they knew I had driven away, they would know that it would take me almost an hour to get anywhere and back, and this woman was theirs for the taking for that hour. A bad combination, a naked, helpless, gorgeous woman, and an hour of unspoiled time. As I drove, I wrote the fantasy in my mind.

As my car drove by below them, they watched the dust it raised settle and listened as the sound faded off into the afternoon. Then they stood up and started down the rock face toward Sheila. If she was silly enough to offer them the opportunity of her body, they would surely take it, and her. She looked up and saw them walking across the beach toward her; they were in no hurry since they knew she was going nowhere. They walked up to her and stood at her spread feet, two men, boys, one blonde, one dark-haired, in their late teens, hormones much louder than their thoughts and a naked, well-endowed, well-curved, and helpless female in their power.

Sheila would be thrashing and trying to resist a little, but she hardly had room to move, much less escape, and they knew it too. She would look into their eyes as she struggled and see what she had coming. She could look at the bulges in the crotch of their wetsuits and she knew she had it coming soon, and as often as these two wanted to give it to her. They would strip off their wetsuits soon, cocks as hard as iron, and act out everything they wanted with her.

The blonde-haired one was first. The zipper came down and he stepped out of his wet suit and underwear, a long, hard cock at full attention. Sheila begged them not to, told them she was being kidnapped and needed to be freed, that I was leaving her here to drown, but they had seen us walk up and had seen her strip off her clothes and help me strap her down, so they knew better. He would lay on top of her, sinking his rock-hard member into her defenseless cunt, laying full on top of her tanned, nude body, thrusting into her and playing with her tits while he rammed into her. She would be begging him to stop even as she felt his cock pull repeatedly in and out of her cunt, but they would just laugh in her face. If someone hadn't been willing for this to happen, they told her, they wouldn't have left this megababe staked in a nude spread-eagle on the sand near a surfer spot, and she wouldn't have allowed that to be done to her. In and out the first one would go, until he clenched up and she felt his sperm sink deep into her body.

The water would be lapping steadily at her feet by then as the second surfer lost his suit and laid full on top of her. She felt his hard cock on her pubic hair as he readied for his first plunge. He listened as she begged and pleaded for him to untie her and not rape her, but a hard cock has no conscience, and at the sight of her tanned body, blonde cunt, long hair, and huge heaving and undefended breasts, he had a very hard cock.

I was in and out of the store in two minutes, and back on the road. I could imagine the scene on the beach. The second surfer was a little more, well, playful with her. He put his hands on her breasts and crushed them with his weight as he fucked her slow and steady. She was sobbing and begging with no response as his cock ran in and out of her cunt, slowly rising toward his climax. He played with her nipples, pulling and pinching, as he ground into her. Despite herself, she found that all the sex and the tit torture and her own helplessness was starting to get her hot. She stopped begging and began to meet his thrusts and groan with her own rising tide. He noticed her change and abused her tits even more, stretching hard and pulling her tight. She would throw her head side to side, moaning and screaming from the pain and the waves of pleasure. He pinched her nipples as hard as he could and just kneeled, cock in her, riding her thrashing in pain. Then he grabbed her nipples and pulled them as far apart as he could as he came in her with long, hard spurts. She screamed out in pain and pleasure, feeling the beginning of her own orgasm.

The second surfer called to the first, who had recovered, and started to rape her cunt hard. The first surfer was merciless to her tits, digging in fingernails, stretching them so far she thought her nipples were going to rip (good thing she hadn't worn her nipple rings, or he might have ripped them off), squeezing and crushing her ample breasts, pinching her nipples until all she could do was thrash the little her bonds permitted and scream steadily, then jerk her nipples around while they were pinched, digging his nails into her tender flesh. She felt herself climbing toward her second orgasm, up to the edge, screaming and moaning and rocking and trying to meet the thrusts, and when she was right on the edge, the surfer came. All stimulation stopped except for the minute throbbing of his cock as he squirted a load deep inside her too. All she needed was a few more strokes, but he lay still on top of her.

"No, no, no!" she cried. "Not again! I want to come, too!" But the surfer lay still on top of her while he squirted his seed into her love tunnel. She was thrashing a bit, but the surfer only rolled off her and lay exhausted on the sand beside her, Sheila's body jerking spasmodically, trying to catch an orgasm that was once in her hand but was now falling away.

"Please let me go," she begged the two surfers, once they recovered.

"Are you kidding?" the first one answered, standing between her wide-open legs.

"Let you go so you can run and tell the highway patrol what we just did to you? We watched you let someone tie you right where you are, so that is where we are going to leave you."

They zipped up their wetsuits and walked away, each giving a nipple a farewell crushing pinch for about thirty seconds. Then she got to watch them walk away, her orgasm fading into the distance just like them, no one left with her but the rising tide washing over her ankles and thighs, once in a while over her spread and exposed sex. They were gone, her second orgasm was gone and now all she had was the rising tide and to wait for me.

I parked and made quick time over to the bluff. By my watch I had about thirty minutes before high tide. As I came over the edge, I could see Sheila's nude body, still tied to the sand. The higher waves washed completely over her, going about ten feet beyond her up the beach. Most just ran over her body; every once in a while a particularly strong wave would submerge her for a few seconds. The low point of the waves was about twenty feet below her, about half the time she was completely out of the water. I could see her struggling a little, so she was ok. I stopped long enough for a quick picture, then hurried down and sat down beside her. Her nose plugs were still in place.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"Untie me!" she begged. "I'm too far down in the water!"

"You made me promise not to do that until 5:30," I reminded her. I began making the circles again around her rock-hard nipples as a wave washed over us. It only came to the top of my shorts, but for Sheila it was a much more serious problem.

A big wave washed over us and put Sheila completely under water for about ten seconds.

"Please let me go." I nodded no. She hadn't given the safe word. I wondered if she wasn't that desperate, or was just too frantic to remember it. I started making little circles around her other nipple.

"Please, Jack, let me go!" she begged. "I'll do anything you want. You can fuck me out in the middle of North Park. I'll walk home stark naked from here. Anything you want. Just please let me go."

A wave washed over us, submerging her briefly. When the water receded, her long blonde hair was arranged haphazardly around her head. She looked up to see me holding something red... a ball gag. A chill ran through her body right down to her clit and she nearly came on the spot. She had her fantasy, she was naked and helpless on the beach, in danger, and even though someone was right beside her, he and the waves had teamed up to torture her. She stopped begging.

The tide would roll up over her, crashing into her cunt, stimulating her. It would roll over her breasts, keeping her nipples cold and stimulated and hard. All she had to do was just hold her breath when the waves rolled over her; the nose plugs were in firm and she was in no danger as long as she could hold her breath longer than the waves.

After a few minutes of convincing her that I was in no hurry to free her, I walked up the beach, dropped my shorts above the water line, and came back to her. She saw my hard cock hanging down and realized what was about to happen to her. She could do nothing as I waited for the waves to die down and then I thrust into her.

She stiffened at my penetration and almost screamed. She thrashed a bit, but I got my work done, in between the waves that I had to push up on my arms to stay above and that she had to hold her breath while they ran over her.

In and out I went, for about ten minutes. It's hard to keep a rhythm when waves keep washing over you. The bigger waves were keeping her submerged for about twenty seconds now, and she was struggling and thrashing as I screwed her and the waves ran over her, but knowing about the ball gag, she never said a word. Finally, I came deep inside of her and rolled out.

"Now will you let me go?" she asked between waves, once I had recovered and sat down beside her in the surf again. I had walked up the beach and put my shorts back on.

"No," I answered firmly. "This is what you wanted; this is what you are getting. I let you go and you'll be madder than hell that I took away your fantasy. 5:30 is still an hour away. Besides, I've still got one more surprise for you."

She looked worried at me for a second as I fished in my pocket. Out came a shiny plastic device. It took a second for her to recognize it, then she looked quite alarmed. It was a speculum. I grinned mischievously and she lifted her head up and began begging again.

"Please, Jack, don't put that in me. The water will get all up inside me." A wave washed over us, and I waited for her ears to clear.

I looked back at her. "You said you always wanted me to have surprises for you, and to never fail to carry them out, no matter what you said. Now quiet down, or you'll wear the ball gag, too."

She set her head back down, resigned to her fate. After the next wave washed over us and subsided, I put the speculum in her and began cranking it and her sex wide open.

It was about halfway open when a wave washed over us, up to her chest. Her head jerked up and she screamed when she felt the cold salt water wash inside of her. She thrashed around, but there was nothing she could do about it. The water drained out from her vagina as well as the sand around us. I continued to crank on it until it was fully open.

"God, I can't believe that feeling...." she gasped. The next wave rushed over and submerged her; I could feel her thrashing as the water penetrated more of her than she wanted, but it was something she could do nothing about.

I kept making circles around her nipples. She stopped the real hard thrashing with each new wave, but continued to jerk every time a wave washed over her and refilled her vagina with cold salt water. The tide was starting to go down now. I kept her going, the waves running over her, making circles, pinching, pulling her nips while the time passed, every once in a while playing with her clit, but never too much.

5:30 came. I pulled out the speculum and released her. The minute she was completely loose she grabbed me and pulled me up the beach till we were above the water line. She nearly tore off my shorts, revealing a rock-hard extender. She pushed me down on the sand and squatted on me, impaling herself on my granite.

"It feels so good!" she moaned, rocking back and forth and thrusting on me. She stiffened and came with a gasp, then slowly slid down to the bottom of my cock and sat still for a few minutes until her trembling had subsided. She smiled at me with incredible gratitude, and devoted lust.

"I can't wait until we can try this again."

Neither can I, I thought. Perhaps the next time, I wondered, will I be able to arrange for my fantasy to come true?


Continues in

You can also leave your feedback & comments about this story on the Plaza Forum