The Cabin

As I laid there naked, exposed, vulnerable, and in pain, I realized that I had to do something, anything or I would meet the same end as my flank. I knew then as the strength that had been absent for so long was returning to my consciousness. I could not continue the agony and the suffering any longer. It was his turn to suffer, but how? How would I turn the tables on my ‘master’? He had beaten me into submission, but why?
He wanted the power. If I took that power and used it against him, I could free of him. My blood pounded in my head, hardly allowing me to think, I was too anxious about my newfound awareness of the situation. I vowed not to cry, not to scream, not to allow him any inch of me, for he had all but one. In that one inch, I held the world.
He came into the room and grabbed my raw thigh, and I winced. I ground my teeth and allowed him to manhandle me. I could see his expression changing, morphing into confusion. In that instant, I won, and he knew it. He clasped my ankles in his strong hands and pulled me onto the floor with a resounding thud, but that was all he heard. He dragged me into the bathroom into the shower and turned on the water. It was frigid, and so was I. He left me there and walked to the sink to clean my blood off his hands.
I stood and walked to him, this time not in fear, but in defiance. The trail of blood and water soiled the white marble floor. The mirror was fogged so he did not see me approach him. I put my hands on his ass and slip them up to his shoulders. He whipped around and slapped me so hard that I fell to the ground. I did not stay down, but stood back up to stare him in the eyes. There was a long moment of uncertainty on his part that turned into fear. He pushed me back into the bedroom and onto the bed. As he hovered over me, I laid on my back staring at him from a sea of cream linen sheets. He started to move and I flipped him before he had a chance to react.
The look in his eyes told me everything, he had no power over me, and he never did. My mind was the only thin stopping me from ending this abomination. I lowered myself onto him, kissing and nuzzling his neck and ear. He was frozen in time, and now it was my turn for the fun. If he was going to torture me with all his might, I was going to return the favor. I grabbed his arms and shoved them under my legs to pin him. I moved my lips up his neck, past his ear, to meet his lips. At first there was nothing, only stillness from him. Then he kissed back and his member began to get hard as I grinded against him.

“Round three,” I said, mocking him as I positioned myself over his engorged cock.

He bucked into me and I pulled far enough away that he could not pull out, nor could he fully enter me. He groaned as I moved up as he bucked, barely allowing him to stay in at all. In perfect rhythm, I kept the tip of his member in my body, teasing him. He tried being irregular in his movements, but I followed him, eternally playing with his mind.

“You fucking whore,” he yelled as I continued this.

I smiled from having control over him, and his face contorted in anger. Before I knew it I was on my back, taking his large cock in full. I responded to his movements and met him every time he rammed me, intensifying my pain, but also my pleasure. For this first time since he came into my cabin I was enjoying myself. He groaned in ecstasy as I came, closing myself tightly around his cock.

“It’s not going to be that easy,” he breathlessly said in my ear.
“Are you sure?” I retorted.

To this he responded by stopping and pulling out of me. I laid there; completely ready to take whatever he wanted to do to me. He put the cuffs around my ankles and wrists and cuffed me to the bedposts once again.

“Can’t handle me being free?” I asked calmly as he started fucking me again.

His movements slowed and steadied, and then he yanked the pillows from under my head and shoved them underneath my ass. His pace increased and it felt like his cock was going straight through my cervix. He was directly hitting my G-spot, I groaned in pleasure. He sped up, going faster to try to cause me pain. But that pain came with ecstasy, and I begged for more, deeper, harder, faster. He fulfilled my request and I came with ferocity. He bucked without rhythm, but I followed him and he came with multiple bursts accompanied by the sweet harmony of grunting and my whimpering.
He finished and walked out of the room. Silently.
The bonds on my ankles and wrists were no longer shackles, but instead my way to freedom, for if he set me loose there would be no telling what I would do to him.