Bondage In The Woods Novels & Stories

He was sacrificing now, fighting shadows to give us this chance. 'Tessa, the chains,' I said, voice urgent. We stumbled to the altar stone, the silver vines from before stirring like they sensed the need. They coiled around our wrists and ankles, binding us together— not tight to hurt, but firm, BDSM style, pulling us into position. The grove's magic hummed, responding to our intent, whips of vine forming in the air, cracking soft at first. I laid Tessa down gentle, then pulled her atop me in cowgirl, her body still slick from birth, pussy warm and welcoming as she sank onto my cock. 'Ride me, love. Draw it out.'

A scene was already in progress. A woman was bound to a large wooden X-shaped cross. Her wrists and ankles were secured with black leather cuffs. Thick red rope was wrapped intricately around her torso and breasts in an elaborate harness. A tall man stood behind her, slowly dragging a black leather flogger across her back and ass. Eden stopped walking. She couldn’t look away.

Ash obeyed instantly. Elias took a length of soft, black silk rope. He began to bind Ash’s wrists behind his back, his movements sure and practiced. It wasn’t just a tie; it was an art form. The rope crisscrossed Ash’s chest, highlighting his muscular pecs, framing his nipples. It wrapped around his waist, down to his thighs, forcing his legs slightly apart. His dick and balls were left free, jutting out from the intricate web of rope. He was a work of art, a living sculpture of submission.

G never forced her. Instead, she had encouraged kira to find a passion that she was skillful enough at, to make a living from. Under Sr G’s watchful and encouraging gaze, she found out that she had a flair for hair dressing and from there, hair dressing became her thing. It was a strange passion she finally realized, not because she had never actually made her hair before, but because she could remember that back then in the forest, a friend had taught her how to and for her that was probably the only time every engaged in the art. But surprisingly as it turned out, she was really good at it.

The motion made my cramps spike, a low moan slipping free. In the room, he set me on the floor and gathered ropes from a coiled bundle on the wall—thick, soft cords dyed crimson, rough in texture but pliable. “These shibari ropes will bind you,” he explained, looping one around my torso first. He wove them, crossing over my chest to frame my nipples, cinching tight enough to restrict breath without cutting it off. Knots pressed into my skin, the friction sending shudders through me as he worked downward, binding my arms behind my back in a harness that forced my shoulders square. “Feel the weave claiming you? Every twist owns another piece.”

The only thing was that it didn’t seem to be as effective now that he was bonded. Usually, he could push these first signs away for a day or two very easily but he was already struggling to fight it off. Perhaps it was the constant closeness of his mate that was making it so hard. It was like his body didn’t understand why it needed to wait when his mate was right there. He wanted to tear his hair out in frustration. Trace had found a farmer with a patch of land that his cows weren’t grazing and was willing to negotiate the use of it for a few days.

Amia POV: The night had enveloped the forest in darkness, the moon casting an ethereal glow through the treetops. I, Amia, found myself bound to a sturdy oak tree, my wrists tied tightly with rough ropes that bit into my skin. Ioni and his four companions stood before me, their eyes glittering with malicious intent as they discussed the various ways they planned to violate my body. I argued, my voice shaking but defiant, even as fear clawed at my heart.

Bright quickly chipped in, as Richard sat quietly like he wasn't in the room, or he didn't hear me shouting at him. "Except for you, all those other ladies you saw agreed to be sold to the mafia men. They were not kidnapped or forced to be sold. They were only just tied up, as a sign of surrendering to the men. You know the BDSM romance. A sèxual practices that include bondage, discipline, dominance, submission, and sadism." My jaw dropped as I looked at Bright in shock.

But the only thing that kept racing through my mind was: would he have even looked at me twice if it wasn’t for our bond? Eventually, exhaustion dragged me under, but then the nightmare began. I stood in the woods again, barefoot this time, the trees crowding too close, their branches like bony hands reaching out to me. The air around was thick—hot and heavy and the moon above was beautifully full, but blood red. There was a cage in the clearing. Chains, thick and rusted with a body slumped inside. I couldn’t see the face, but I knew.. I knew it was him.

The night in Blackwater was no longer a threat, but a sacred mantle that enveloped the Leather Wolves clan. In the heart of the ancestral clearing, where rocks marked with Thorne and Blackwood symbols stood like sentinels of time, a colossal bonfire of pine and sandalwood cast orange flames toward the stars. The air was saturated with the scent of burning resin and the static electricity emanating from dozens of wolves in human form, arranged in a circle of absolute silence and reverence.