The Encounters

Jay's Reprimand

I felt grass and dirt being wedged under my fingernails as I dug my hands into the ground. I heard the sounds of my heavy breathing and my heart pounding in my ears. I registered the soft crunch of dry leaves under my torso as my body rocked forward. A small twig snapped under my weight. The clean, damp earth, inches from my face, swam in my bleary vision.

Adrenaline was rushing through me and I felt like I could intimately sense everything around me. I felt wide open to it all, raw and yielding, and I knew that each second ticking by would be logged away in my memory permanently.

My camera lay on the ground where I'd dropped it, just a couple feet out of my reach. I could see myself in the scene reflected in its lens as it stared back at me, the little red recording light shining like a fiery brand of shame, underlining my humiliation as it recorded these moments in HD.

I shut my eyes tight as another burst of pained pleasure rolled through me, bringing with it a fresh wave of conflicting emotions. I heard myself whimper, felt my hands tighten against the ground, and my naked knees dig painfully into the uneven soil.

I felt my weeping erection bounce up against my stomach as I was shoved forward again.

"Nnnnh! Ahh..ahh.." I groaned through my teeth and gasped for air. I opened my eyes and turned my head slightly in an attempt to look back at my... partner? Assailant? Lover? Rapist? ...The man whose warning I hadn't heeded.

He was pounding into me erratically, each forward thrust making my breath hitch and my body quiver. It hurt, but I enjoyed it, and that fact made it even harder to bear.

I had once thought I was in control of my fate. Thought I was strong enough to resist him.

I had just wanted to return to that construction site for clues...
He saved my life there, and told me never to set foot in Rosswood Park ever again. He was trying to protect me. I hadn't realized how serious he'd been... and I never thought I would be punished like this for disregarding his warning.

"P..please..." I breathed, "Nnn..not ..like this... please, it hurts-s, I'm s-..sorry.." I tried to catch my breath in between his thrusts, tried to beg him to stop, but it was useless. "T-Tim.. please..! S-sto..-op.. ahh..."

He was using all his strength to snap his hips forward again and again, driving into me, alternately making me tense with agony and buckle with pleasure. He knew just where to hit, and only he decided whether I felt good or not. His cold, leather-gloved hands were like vices, holding my hips firmly in place as he claimed me. It was all I could do to keep my face out of the dirt.

After several minutes of this treatment, I had stopped begging. My voice had faded; I slipped into an altered state, limp and dazed with lingering pleasure and sparks of pain. I waited patiently for another orgasm to build in me, as he had ridden out my first one even though it had caused me to tighten around him considerably. I had hoped that he'd be brought along with me and this would stop.

But I'd forgotten that he was, for lack of a better word, superhuman.

Eventually I felt him slow down, then stop... then I shuddered as he slid out of me with some difficulty; he was still huge and extremely hard. He wasn't done yet.

I felt one of his gloved hands tug on my shoulder, and it sobered me enough to obey. I turned over on my side, laying my head on my arm so it wouldn't rest against the ground. I kept my eyes closed as I felt him straddle my lower leg and then grip my thighs roughly to hold them apart. I felt him brush against my opening and then push inside, mercifully slow this time.

He fucked me as we scissored, gently at first, but the movement soon built to his previous violent pace. The new position was surprisingly less painful for me, and when he started hitting my prostate over and over with purpose, I knew he was close and wanted me to come with him this time.

I opened my eyes slightly and looked up into the huge black holes of his mask. He was partially silhouetted in the light of evening filtering through the forest canopy, but I could see him well enough. I watched him gripping my thighs, his whole body working into mine, sweat shining on the tense muscles of his neck and dampening the front of his shirt. He was completely silent, which just emphasized the sight of him.

He stirred emotions and compulsions in me that I couldn't name and didn't want to acknowledge. All I know is that I have never experienced anything as intense as when we are together.

"Ahh.. oh fuck... Tim.. T-Tim...!" I heard my broken voice moan his name. I couldn't control myself as he suddenly ripped another orgasm from me, taking me by surprise, this one even more powerful than the last. I shuddered and shot against my stomach and the ground, and groaned in pained bliss as my body automatically tightened around his cock.

His gloved hands squeezed my thighs hard enough to bruise. He loomed over me and snapped his hips forward one last time, and I felt him pulse inside me, gushing several long, hot spurts.

For a few still seconds before he recovered, I lay on my side on the forest floor, panting softly, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes. When he finally pulled away, I whimpered and felt some of his seed leak out of me.

Somewhere on the ground behind me, the camera was still running. I ached all over and could barely move, let alone get up and go erase the footage from the past fifteen minutes. I suppressed sudden hysterical laughter at that thought. Erasing the tape would do nothing to erase that experience from my memory.

Constant filming had caused my delirious mind to mix up recordings and reality. But through filming myself 24/7, even while sleeping... don't the tapes know more than I do? Aren't they clean and somewhat organized, while I am damaged, soiled, and scattered? As the haze of pleasure faded, I felt a chill settle over me.

What was I doing? How did it come to this?

Tim stood and picked up my discarded shorts and boxers, and used a leg of my shorts to clean himself off a little. He tossed the garments at my feet before tucking himself away and turning from me, looking like he would leave.

Now it felt like ice had crept into my chest. I sat up slightly, my limbs quivering as the adrenaline started to ebb away. I tried to keep the tears from welling up again as I said weakly, "T-Tim.. I'm sorry. Please don't... leave me here like this..."

He heard me and paused, the silent masked face turning and staring down at me for a long moment.

Then he came over and stepped around me, and stooped to pick up the camera. He held it pointed at me for a few seconds, and then as I watched, he turned it off. I swallowed nervously, and suddenly had the terrifying feeling that he was going to kill me. It was eerily familiar, and I suppressed a shiver.
Was this the same man I was with that time in the back of my car in the middle of the night? Did he save me from being shot, just to kill me now? Had I really seen him in town and taken that bag of tapes from him? Who was he? I had no idea. My eyes widened in fear, my heart hammering in my chest.

Tim turned the camera over and ejected the mini tape. He waved the tape at me, then slipped it carefully into his jeans pocket.

Then he let the empty camera drop to the ground, turned, and walked away through the brush