A Casual Hike

I'm an introvert, a photographer, and a nature lover. Put all those together and you've got someone who likes to go to lonely places shooting nature. I've even had some pictures accepted by National Geographic and that's a tough market to get into.

Oh, I have to point out that I'm not a professional photographer, just a gifted amateur. This means that my chances to go on shooting excursions are limited to holidays and weekends. Long weekends are good.

We had a long weekend recently and I was able to take off early on Friday afternoon. I'd already packed my equipment into my car and all I had to do was drive up to the mountains. I had my hike all planned out in advance.

By the time evening was approaching I was well up the trail, having arrived at the point where I'd decided to camp for the night. It was a beautiful night and I wasn't going to bother with a tent. I was just going to unroll my sleeping bag and sleep beneath the stars. (Yes, I considered the possibility of mountain lions and bears. They just weren't going to happen.)

I'd just finished my dinner and was putting out my little fire when a man came strolling up to my camp. He looked around and just grunted, watching as I put out the fire.

"What are you doing here, Despoiler of the Earth?" he asked. I could practically hear him putting capitals on those words.

"I'm just on a hike. I'm a photographer. I don't despoil the earth, as you put it. Who are you?"

"I am Running Wolf, defender of these lands."

OK. If he says so. I could see he was some type of Indian. Ah, that's Indian with feathers, rather than Indian with a dot on his forehead. Perhaps I should just say Native American.

"Um, well you don't need to defend it against me," I assured him. "I have no intention of damaging it."

"Pah. You damage it by the act of walking on it."

"Really? You think I soil the soil by my very presence?"

"All white men do. That's why I wage war against the white man and his intrusive ways."

I felt like pointing out that denim trousers and shirts weren't exactly part of native American culture. Neither were the Reeboks he was wearing.

"Yes, well, I'm not exactly a white man," I pointed out. "Why not go and find one and hassle him instead of me."

"I also wage war on white women," he pointed out. "However I am more merciful where women are concerned."

"I see. You just warn them to be careful and let them go?"

"Not quite. I warn them to be careful of the land, have sex with them to show how important this is, and then let them go."

Excuse me? Have sex with them? Thanks, but no thanks. I'll pass up that offer. Before I could say anything he held up a hand.

"No. Don't say anything. White women always feel they must say no sex. I just ignore their wishes as this is my land."

It promptly registered on me that he was a very large man. He also looked quite fit and strong. Now I was also fit and strong, but only for someone my size, and I was considered petite. Very petite. I glanced around, trying to work out which way to run but before I could decide anything he had hold of my arm.

It had been a beautiful day and all I was wearing was some hiking shorts and a t-shirt. It was quite appalling how efficiently he took them off me, along with my undies. I struggled and wriggled but he tucked me under his arm and started pulling my shorts and panties down. I was able to kick my feet up and down and hit the back of his legs with my fists, but I wasn't able to stop him undoing my shorts and pushing them down. To add injury to insult he had the gall to slap my bottom once he'd pushed my shorts and panties down far enough.

"Stop being silly," he told me. "Just relax a little."

With that he finished taking them off and switched the arm I was tucked under so that my top was in front of him. That's when he calmly pushed my t-shirt and bra up and off. Like I said, he made it look easy. He probably stripped me faster than I'd get undressed myself.

He swung me back to me feet, turning me to face him, and he was looking me up and down. Inscrutable Indian is a myth. I could see just what he was thinking and his face was saying dinner is served and I knew who dinner was.

Even though I still had my shoes on I didn't get a chance to run for it. Not that I was likely to go charging through the woods starkers, except for my shoes. The way my luck was running I'd probably meet the only grizzly bear in the state. Didn't really matter. Like I said I didn't get a chance. He grabbed my arm again and towed me over to where my sleeping bag was laid out. How nice. He was letting me have something comfortable to lie on.

He pushed me down onto the sleeping bag and stood over me while he slipped off his jeans. My jeans are so tight it takes me ten minutes to take them off. His were so loose they practically fell down when he undid them. I promptly saw why he had such loose jeans. He had a lot of equipment he had to tuck away.

"We can do this two ways," he told me. "The easy way is you relax and I make love to you." I was shaking my head most vehemently. That was not going to happen. "The hard way is where I put you over my knee and spank your bottom until you agree to do it the easy way. So, which is it to be?"

Oh, I had such a wide range of choices. Be raped or be beaten and raped. I'd just as soon bypass the beating. I gave him a nasty look and forced myself to relax.

"I thought you might see it that way," he murmured, settling down next to me.

I naturally assumed that he would now pounce. Not so. When he said he'd make love he meant just that. He started off by stroking my breasts. I'm waiting for him to jump me and all he does is start playing with my breasts. He rubbed them, teased them, teased my nipples, tasted them for god's sake. Then he started playing with my pussy, stroking and squeezing and massaging.

I was moving restlessly under his touch. The damn man was getting to me and he knew it. He left my pussy alone, his fingers trailing lightly along the insides of my thighs, moving softly up until he was ready to touch me pussy again. And he didn't. There was I expecting him to touch me again and his hand changed directions.

His fingers lightly stroked me all around my mound without quite touching it and I was starting to feel like screaming. Then I did scream as his hand suddenly closed over my mound again and squeezed it. Now he was getting more serious, touching me more urgently, waking up my desires. I was ready for him and I damn well knew that he knew it.

He changed tactics again. His goddamn mouth closed over my mound while a hand landed on my breasts. His tongue was probing me, teasing me, sending me insane, while he also caressed my breasts.

I swear, if he didn't get on with the actual rape I was going to tackle him and do some raping myself.

It was almost a surprised when he moved over me, his cock starting to press against me. I'd been almost petrified when I saw how much equipment he had, the thing rearing up out of his trousers like a small baseball bat. Not all that small a bat, either, was my first thought. Now I was looking at it and thinking I can handle that. No problems. Just fucking do it.

Ah, I'm not sure if I said that last line out loud or not. I certainly didn't mean to but from the smirk on his face I just might have. Whatever, he just did it.

No sudden thrust from this man. He just eased into position then kept on coming. And on and on. I could feel him creeping up inside me, forcing my passage to stretch to accommodate him. The way he kept on coming I was starting to have serious doubts about my ability to handle him. Forget the no problems bit. Now it was a case of, come on, you've got to be kidding me. There's more?

They say all good things must come to an end. Fortunately so do other things, like his cock. He finally settled onto me, his groin pressing heavily against me, and I had the most cock I had ever come across inside me.

For a rapist, he showed remarkable consideration. He didn't start trying to pound me into the ground. He just moved gently, sliding slowly back and forth, letting me get a proper feel for what I had to handle. It didn't take me long to adjust to what he was doing, with me moving at the same gentle pace to meet his gentle thrusts.

After a couple of minutes it dawned on me that he wasn't moving slowly out of consideration. He was moving slowly because he wanted to make this last. I'd given a couple of hints that I wouldn't complain if he put more effort into it and those hints had flown past him without stopping. Irritating, really, as it wasn't as if I was in a position to tell him to get a move on.

What he was doing was exciting (reluctantly so) but it wasn't exciting enough. I needed him to do more and he wasn't doing it.

I will say that he kept on going. And going. And going. Time was passing and he was still going on with that same gentle movement. My excitement was still building but oh, so slowly. What did the fool think he was doing?

I'll swear that it must have been close to a quarter of an hour before he decided that the time was right to step up the pace a bit. As for that swearing I just mentioned I was doing it. Swearing at him under my breath. At least now my excitement was being fanned properly. I was bouncing under him quite happily. Now.

He bounced me even harder and I was going to climax and I didn't care. If he didn't get there that was his hard luck. Um, no, I think he wouldn't care. He'd just keep going until he was ready. Now I was hoping that he would climax or I could be lying under him half the night.

He gave a few more vigorous bounces and I reached the point of no return, gasping and climaxing ecstatically, relieved to find that he was also letting rip.

He rolled off me and pulled up his jeans.

"Right, woman, you've been warned," he told me. "Don't say you haven't been."

With that he vanished into the woods.

So I'd been warned. Do tell. Warned about what, for god's sake? You can't just warn someone. You have to warn them about something. I sighed and dismissed the matter. I cleaned up as best I could and hopped into my sleeping bag. I was bushed. I was quite sure I'd sleep like a log. I didn't even bother to put anything on. Why bother? There was nobody about but Running Wolf and he'd already seen it all he had just run off away from here. I closed my eyes and slept.

The bird's morning chorus woke me nice and early. I'd have liked to stay nestled in the sleeping bag for a while but an early start was probably the better option. I hopped out of bed and gave a luxurious stretch, greeting the dawn in all my natural glory.

"Huh. You were warned," said a voice behind me. "At least you're dressed ready for the reminder."

What the fuck was Running Wolf doing back here?

"Go away," I said urgently. "I'm getting dressed and leaving. As for your warning you didn't say what you were warning me about. How is that a warning?"

"Yes, I did," Running Wolf retorted. "I specifically told you I was at war with the white man. I also told you what happens to white women. You should have left last night."

Talk about totally unreasonable. I should go traipsing through the woods in the middle of the night? Without a light? Not this little girl. I pointed out that there was no way I could have left the previous night.

"Not my problem," he said with a shrug.

With that he grabbed me. God that man could move fast when he wanted to. I felt like screaming. What was especially infuriating was that I was still naked, except for my socks. I'd taken my shoes off when I got in the sleeping bag. This would teach me to sleep naked.

He'd already dropped his trousers. He'd probably dropped them before he came sneaking into my camp. He was all primed and ready for action. My pussy was already twitching, anticipating the coming assault. No way. I was going to fight him this time.

I took a swing at him, missed and found myself lying face down on the sleeping-bag. His arms curled around my upper legs and he lifted me up, bottom first. He didn't just lift me up a little. He hoisted me way up, holding my legs against his waist.

Have you ever seen a kid's wheelbarrow race? Kid one holds kid two by the legs and runs, with kid two using his arms as an extra pair of legs. That was the position that Running Wolf now had me in, with one significant difference. His cock was pushing firmly into me. I squealed in fury and his cock just came charging in, battering my poor passage into submission.

I couldn't believe what had happened. I was using my arms to prop myself up off the ground. It was either that or a face-plant and I wasn't doing that. He was holding me nicely in position (nicely for him that is) and his cock was now taking its daily exercise. If asked I wouldn't even have guessed this to be a valid position for sex and now I was actually participating in it.

The big difference between now and the previous evening was that Running Wolf no longer felt any need to take it easy with me. He was banging away like a man possessed, his feet firmly planted on the ground while his hips moved back and forth with great vigour, repeatedly driving his weapon into me.

It was quite plain I wasn't going to have to go through a long slow build-up before I could reach a climax. That first energetic thrust had started my juices flowing and there had been nothing to detract from that initial excitement. Robust thrusts were driving into me, invigorating me, driving me wild, and I was happy that it was so. His action was so totally different and it was turning me on in a way that was appalling. I'd never have guessed that I could enjoy such a rough ride.

He banged away hard and fast and as I was effectively upside down I was also getting dizzy. Did I mention that I wasn't exactly being quiet while all this was going on? I'm not sure what I was saying but I was yelling my head off. I think I might have been swearing at him in between screams of surprise as various thrills seemed to ripple through me. I know I let out one loud scream at the end when I climaxed.

That rotten man finished up and just let me drop. It was a good thing that my hands were already on the ground so I could break my fall. I staggered to my feet, feeling both exhilarated and furious. He might have fucked me to an amazing climax but he had no right to do so. I looked around for something to hit him with.

Fat chance I had of doing that. He just yelled that I'd been warned again and shot through. I took some satisfaction from the fact that he left rather fast. Too chicken to stay while I hit him.

I cleaned myself up, again, and then got dressed. I packed up and headed off to continue my hike. He'd performed so quickly this time that I only lost about ten minutes. As I hiked I contemplated what had happened. After a while I shrugged and dismissed the matter. Nothing I could do about it after all. I would remember that wheelbarrow stunt, though. It might be interesting in another time and place.

I continued on my way. For the most I stayed on the track, but I did deviate occasionally when I saw something I considered photogenic. When I say deviate I mean I'd move off the track but make sure I kept in sight. I didn't fancy finding myself wandering through a trackless wilderness. Isn't it odd how something attractive becomes something menacing when you're lost.

I came to one area where the land to one side of the track had been fenced off. Not that it was much of a fence. Just a single strand of wire stapled from tree to tree. Attached to the fence was a sign saying 'Danger Keep Out Foresting Area'. Looking along the fence I could see the sign was repeated every so often.

I assumed 'Foresting Area' was a politically correct way of saying logging. Loggers are bashful types, not liking people knowing where they're working. Still, the fence didn't bother me. I had no intention of exploring a logging area and risk having a tree drop on me. From the quiet I'd have to say they weren't working in this area but why take chance?

The reason for taking a chance showed up a little further on. I was strolling along when a flash of colour over in the foresting area caught my eye. Turning to look I couldn't see anything at first glance but I knew I'd seen something.

I shuffled around a little, trying to see through the trees, and after a few moments I caught that flash of colour again. Now that I knew where to look I edged closer to the fence, trying to determine what it was.

Oh my god, it was a spray of orchids. I just had to get a shot of those. I was under that silly wire and scrambling over to the orchids in an instant. They were so beautiful. The plant had taken root on a rotten old log and the contrast between the log and the flower was marvellous. I was prepared to swear that it was a Dragon Mouth. It shouldn't really have been growing there, but I guess a spore had landed there and found the moist rotten log to its liking.

I took a number of shots and I wouldn't be surprised if National Geographic didn't accept a couple of them. I was grinning like a loon when I heard a voice.

"They say the term dumb blonde is a cliché but here we have one, a blonde too dumb to read a sign."

I turned around and glared at the speaker. Well, I glared at both the men standing there as I didn't know which one had spoken.

"I read the sign," I snapped. "I also noted that there are no trees here worthy of logging and that there no sound of equipment being used so assumed that it would be safe to just step over to take a photo. I somehow doubt that you intend to log a rotten old tree that's lying on the ground. I wanted a picture of the orchid."

"I see. Signs are only meaningful if they don't stop you doing what you want to."

Sarcastic brute.

"That," I said, pointing to the orchid, "is a Dragon Mouth Orchid. Very rare, but not worth logging. It will be in more danger from botanists and collectors trying to pinch it that from logging."

"Not that it will last long here," I added with a sigh. "The surroundings are all wrong for it. It really prefers marshy ground. It's a fluke that it even lasted long enough to flower."

"That's all very interesting but also irrelevant. The point is the sign clearly said trespassers will be prosecuted and you're trespassing."

"The sign said no such thing," I protested. "It just said danger, keep out, or something to that effect. Anyway, I have my photo and I'm quite willing to depart your precious foresting area, so if you'll excuse me?"

I went to walk past them and back to the trail but one great oaf stepped in front of me, saying, "No."

"Excuse me," I said, affronted.

"I said no, we will not excuse you. Let's discuss a penalty for trespassing first."

"Let's not," I replied.

"Forget it, Bob," said the other guy. "She's just a kid. Let's smack her bottom and send her on her way."

"Let's not. I am not a kid," I snapped. "I am an adult. I may be a little on the petite side but I'm still an adult."

"Well, I admit that makes a difference," said Bob. "Instead of a smack on the bottom we can give her a proper spanking."

"You most certainly can't," I said quickly. "No way will I permit that sort of thing."

"Not your cooperative lawbreaker, is she, Mike," drawled Bob. "So what do we do now?"

"Well, if she doesn't want to be spanked I guess we don't spank her. Sure you don't want to change your mind?"

"Certainly not," I said, putting as much confidence as I could into my voice.

"OK," said Mike. "Me first."

I was thinking, 'me first what' when Mike just stepped over next to me, grabbed my shorts and yanked them down without even undoing the button. I was prepared to swear I heard a seam give way. I was also prepared to just swear.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I squawked, bending over to grab my shorts. I should have been grabbing hold of my panties as they promptly followed my shorts. I stood back up straight very fast. Catch me bending over with no panties on. Mike grabbed me and pulled me flush against him, his hands clutching tight to my bottom as he lifted me off my feet.