Hunted Through the Forest

First, let's set the scene.

A house sits next to a dark green forest. It's old, both forest and house. The forest is an offshoot of a more ancient parent, that reaches back - further than the eye can see - to the foot of a mountain range. The edge is a cheery, bright green... with lanes of grass and innumerable signs of small life. As you move into the trees, however, the light is blotted out, till it falls only in divine shafts of golden power, giving some life to the hardy grass, moss and leaf bed.

Some way in past the house, at one point, the leaves lying on the floor are disturbed. A closer look shows half a foot print. The smudge of mud extending outwards indicates hast. Pulling back, it then becomes obvious that there are two tracks to be discerned. One laid in haste, all mud and broad marks, the other more measured... patient, stalking.

A grunt of frustration draws the ear further in. A tall girl is climbing to her feet. Another hasty slip has grazed her right knee and hand. She looks in disgust at the frenzy of muddy marks, then growls again in frustration. A pause, then she swallows, and somewhat fretful, looks about. Her eyes stab through the gloom, but she sees nothing. Grimacing, she comes fully to her feet, standing all of 6ft tall. Long blond hair falls from her head, bound up in a tie. Her shoulders glisten with sweat, a loose white track shirt sticking to her back and upper arms. She wears a pair of cotton running shorts, muddy from bruising, cutting slips and falls, together with a pair of comfortable but unrecognisable shoes - too much mud cakes them for a distinguishing emblem to be seen. But, never the less, they appear to be of curious shape, not rounded at the front, but dimpled as if with toes?

Casting about once more with her eyes, hair swishing from side to side, a pony's tail, she sprints off between a tree (bent and crooked from a clash with a falling neighbour) and a large grey rock.

Deep steady breaths. An even pace. The hunter has used a compass (the trees having defeated his GPS receiver) and a memorised map to circle around his prey. Knowing that the natural slope will herd her to the right, he cut across a river and stands now on a low bluff, looking down into the forest with a thermal imager. The viewer is set to a wide angle, taking in almost all the forest in front of the man, with an commanding arc of 120 degrees.

A red glow appears in the left corner. The hunter switches to a narrower focus and zooms in. A smile spreads across his face. Not wide, a mear upturning of the lips, but enough to signify pleasure. He steps down and across the rocks below him, and moves to the thickening tree line opposite the bluff.

Pelting along, heedless of her pace and concentrating hard on her footing, the girl does not see the hunter step into the natural running path he espied from his vantage point. Instinct and her subconscious have betrayed her... busy concentrating on her flight, her mind has mapped the easiest path.

A movement in her peripheral vision causes her to slow and look up. Her heart freezes. But it's not simple fear. There's... desire? Unadulterated, even fueled by her surprise and then tempered by her fear.

"No..." she blurts out, "you cannot have me. I've been bound to the sorcerer!" Defiant, she raises her muddy left arm, to show an impossibly thin bracelet, rainbow hued and brightly shining.

The hunter steps forward, sword drawn, it's edge humming undetectably at an ultrasonic frequency. It could easily sheer a foot-thick tree branch in half. More from habit does he draw the sword, however, as the man's quickening breath betrays his emotions. Killing is not his motive.

The scene presents a contradiction.

"It'll kill us both when it finds out!" the girl shouts, her face showing real anger.

The outburst only elicits a questioning look from the man. "Since when did that black bastard of a sorcerer become an "it"?" he asks.

"Male he may have started out, if so you say, but communing with devils and summoning demons has taken its toll. He is no longer human."

"Fuck "It" to the 9 circles of Hell then, I want you!"

The girl turns to run, but the hunter has drawn close enough to toss a tangle-foot bag at her feet. It explodes and immediately the area around her is filled with writhing vines. Hopelessly enmeshed, her drops to her knees, fighting a rising, primal rage to escape. A counter spell on his lips, the ranger removes the vines, and dives on top of the struggling girl. For a moment her exhaustion, and his position, forces a truce. He lies next to her body, his right leg over the back of both her legs, his right arm likewise over her back, pinning her right arm to the ground. Her left arm is helpless beneath his chest... not within reach of his balls. Her head falls slowly to the mossy floor, her breathing slowing in time to the man's.

The man's right arm pulls back... and then the noise of a knife sliding from its sheath jolts her head back up. She jerks again at the feel of the cold blade on the back of her thigh. The tip slides up beneath her shorts, slitting through the material like paper. Goose-bumps form where the cold air and blade meet her skin. The knife doesn't stop there though. It slides up her back, through her shirt, and bares a running bra to the trees. Moving down a bit, the tip of the knife snags the bra, and slices through the back and both straps. A moan escapes the girl... while the hunter tosses aside his knife, twists, bends his head down, and breaths her scent in... from the top of her buttocks, to the nape of her neck.

The battle is now mostly over. As his hand moves down her back, she cannot help but open her legs slightly, sucking in an involuntary breath as his hand reaches between her bum cheeks and thighs, to slide over her vagina. The motion is still rude, no permission asked or given. The blade formed by his pointer finger and palm slips between her lips, pressing into the whole length of her cunt. She feels her muscles tighten within her groin. Too late now, for neither of the two can stop.

Knowing this, the hunter comes to his knees, bringing his left hand up to remove the band from the girl's hair. As it cascades down her shoulder and side of her face, he entwines his fingers in the blonde stands. Pulling back, the girl's head lifts from the floor a second time, but this time her eyes are closed, and her breath quickens. His right hand shifts and his middle fingers enters her, sliding deep, to the knuckles. Both mouths open. One bares teeth, the other forms an "O" of rough ecstasy.

"Tell me that you want me," he grinds out.

The girl only moans. Repeating his question, the hunter pulls her head up by her hair, takes his right hand from between her thighs, and reaches around under her chest to grab the nipple on her right breast. He twirls it in his fingers, pressing harder with each twist. The pain builds slowly but steadily, sending throbbing spasms of lustful sensation through her body.

"Tell me."

"I, uh... I want you." Sobbing the words perhaps, the girl peddles her legs for traction. She pushes till she is sitting more or less upright, bum on the ground, back against the chest of her Ranger. He responds, resting on his left knee, he places his right leg between hers, and pulls back splaying them open again. Her wet vagina opens slightly, just clear of the wet earth. Again his fingers start to play with her, this time twirling around her now erect clitorus. His motions have slowed, concentrated little circles, switches and rubs. His prey tilts her head back, mouth ready. Bending down, he kisses her.

"Suck me."

Now it is her moment to smile, the power has just shifted. A predatory look on her face, she responds by taking his tongue in her mouth, sucking it deeply... tasting it, eating it from his mouth. His trousers can no longer hold his cock down. Hard with desire, it springs up, ready to receive her rough ministrations, applied through the material of his pants.

Eventually, he cannot contain himself. He has before him a naked Goddess. An elemental, born of the forest, bound against her will to an evil Power. For years he has watched her, keeping the forests as directed by the same Power. Now he can wait no longer. Her nakedness has overthrown him, curves he cannot ignore, a spirit he has grown to admire and respect. Beautiful beyond the ken of mortal men.

Taking her hand, he pulls her up, and now mastered by his lust, throws her forward over a huge round, smooth rock to their left. Dropping his trousers to the floor, he places his hand on the flat of her back, moves forward, and then pauses, the tip of his penis resting against the entrance to her vagina. He smiles then, and drinks her body in one more time. Her legs and arms are braced, all pretence at resistance banished. Moving forward he pushes gently into her. Moving faster and faster, he shifts his hold to use both hands to hold her hips. From then on he just fucks her. Hard, deep, fast. It doesn't take long then. With a cry, heedless of the Universe, they both cum, his engorged penis emptying into her vagina, as her muscles clamp him tight, orgasms rippling through her again and again.

Eventually, both spent, they collapse to the ground, breathing heavily, minds awash with multi-coloured pleasure.

"Run away with me."

"Okay."

Who does the saying, and who answers is immaterial.