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There was something about the darkness lacing his observation that welled bubbling panic in my soul like crude oil that pours to the surface when struck. Slick and uncontrollable and bursting from the tap.
I never even turned around.
I just ran.
Not sure why I thought running would be a good idea. I was not dressed for a sprint through the woods. But unlike the previous day, I did not ignore the pain—I let the agony fuel my fear. Without cloth covering my arms, I was drawing blood in my flight. No socks on my feet made the heavy boots I wore awkward and unwieldly.
Like running in a dream, or a horror movie, I was slower than I needed to be, and was not surprised when I felt rough fingers grip my braid and jerk me back.
Blinding pain shot through my scalp as I was swung around and shoved back onto a wide tree trunk. Before I could even find my balance, the blue wolf—now in red flannel—had his hand around my throat. He held me up against the rough bark.
Unable to help myself, I rose to my tippytoes and grabbed his wrist with both hands to help bear my weight. Struggling to get free, I scratched at his knuckles.
He tightened his hold on my throat. “Behave, little bunny.”
When I stopped moving, he loosened his fingers enough to allow me to breathe.
“Bunny, bunny…” His eyes sparkled behind his mask as he looked me up and down. “I must say you look incredibly adorable in my sheet.”
“Please,” I whispered brokenly. “I’m sorry.”
He tsk’d. “Not yet. But you will be.” With his free hand, he tugged the toga loose then pulled the material from my body. He licked his lips as he studied my exposed skin. “But first, are you injured?”
“Yes,” I gasped as tears slid down my cheeks.
“Injured, bunny, not scared.” He bunched the sheet under the arm still pinning me to the tree then smoothed his now free hand over the red welts and scratches on my arms. “Do you need treatment?”
“No,” I hyperventilated my answer. Because no injury meant the scene would continue. “I’m okay.”
“Good. Running from me was incredibly foolish of you.”
I swallowed hard and nodded my concurrence. It was. It really, really was.
He offered a mischievous smirk and ran his free hand down my sternum, over my stomach, and further still until his palm reached my pelvis. He then flipped his wrist and cupped my mons, forcing his fingers into the fleshy apex.
“No—” I cried out.
He thrust deeper into my folds, delving into my inner heat with purpose. He then pulled out and studied the glistening fingertips.
“Mmmm,” he moaned as he sucked on his fingers. “You are a tasty morsel. So wet and ready to be eaten. Is that what you want, bunny? Should I eat you all up?”
“No,” I nodded, shook my head, then nodded again. I wasn’t sure the correct answer. “Please,” I strained. “Let me go.”
“Not until the show is over.”
My face flamed when I saw the camera on the tree in front of me. Only God knew how many people were up early, having breakfast in bed, watching me and him on the live feed.
He pulled the sheet from under his arm and unraveled the material with one hand. Next, he threaded the fabric around my wrists—easy to do since I was still holding onto his wrist for leverage. Once secured to his liking, he released my throat and pulled the sheet up taut beneath my chin then wrapped the material around the trunk, securing my hands snuggly to my upper chest like a mummy.
After assessing his handiwork, Master Otis crouched before me. I didn’t fight him when he lifted one leg, opened it wide, and put my knee over his shoulder. I whimpered when he lifted my second leg, forcing my weight to be born between the trunk and his shoulders.
“Aww. You are a good girl. You left your tail in.”
“Yes, yes I am,” I assured.
“But you are a naughty bunny.” He smacked my pussy hard. “A naughty,”smack,“naughty,”smack,“naughty bunny that needs to be taught a lesson.”
I wailed and tried to move away from the smacks he rained on my labia, mons, and inner thighs, but I had no purchase in this position to do more than wiggle, which just scratched up my back as my bare skin rubbed against the bark. When I kicked my legs, he punished me with harder impacts. But it hurt so much it was hard to not fight it.
