A Walking Trip
by Fictitious Slave

Author's Note: I had this idea while I was away in Scotland and managed to write it up, proof it and submit it in an evening. As such I apologise for any mistakes. I suspect this will mean more to anyone who can relate to some aspects of the story, for everyone else I hope it'll at least provide some amusement and maybe some eroticism!

During my time at Lancaster University I joined the hill walking club. We'd regularly visit far flung regions of the UK to climb mountains, sit in the rain, and get bitten by midges. It passed the time between pub trips! During my second year I struck up a relationship with a first year called Gemma; it started innocently enough with some flirting or a joke at the other's expense but things changed after a trip to Scotland.

Gemma and I were on a expedition north with another member of the club called Tim for some much needed hill time and an attempt to increase our munro count, at the time we were all obsessed with the game of climbing all Scottish hills listed by Sir Hugh Munro. It's a common goal for walkers and this was just one of countless trips to tick a few more hills off that list. We'd nearly cancelled due to a lack of interest, however at the last minute I'd finally conceded to the pair's demands and had agreed to drive the pair up in my old Fiesta instead of an empty and unprofitable minibus.

The motorway up had been uneventful, Tim had shotgunned the front seat and had been playing his eclectic taste in music for the first hundred and fifty miles and by the time we stopped for dinner in Glasgow I was sick of it! Once our stomach's were filled with the obligatory haggis and chips Gemma declared a new competition and promptly won herself the leg room she'd been sorely lacking. Tim sat behind us and resigned himself to cramped legs and being hit by the precariously balanced rucksack each time I took a corner at speed. The pair of us cringed as the opening song of Mamma Mia blasted out from my stereo. Gemma has many skills, but singing is not one of them, and I decided I even preferred Brosnan's terrible attempts to hers as we travelled up the banks of Loch Lomond. At least it helped keep me awake as we headed up through the winding roads in the early hours of a Saturday morning, the question was would she also keep half of Scotland up?

Tim threw down his rucksack, we'd finally reached our destination. It was hot, we were tired and despite the weatherman's assurances to the contrary there had not been a cloud in the sky all day. This normally wouldn't have bothered me, however due to the forecast I'd seen the previous day I'd included an extra jacket and my winter sleeping bag, this additional weight had cost me on the way up the steep climb and I was exhausted. Gemma appeared around the corner a moment later, quickly she pushed her camera in a side pocket before dropping her bag beside us. She didn't even have the decency to look tired!

This weekend we'd decided we could summit more hills if we camped in the mountains on the Saturday night, this would save us the six or seven hundred metres of ascent the following morning and allow us to complete the ridge. The disadvantage was that we'd have to spend both days carrying tents, sleeping bags, stoves and food. I surveyed my choice for the campsite, it seemed like weeks ago when I'd scoured the maps for a good place to spend the night. I had to admit I'd made a good selection, the small loch was surrounded on three sides by a sheer cliff face that would protect us from the worst of any winds. A small stream ran out the end of the still water ensuring that at least some water was flowing and drinkable. It was an ideal campsite and wonderfully remote.

An hour later our tents were pitched and our tea was digesting, I'd decided I wanted to repack my rucksack, something had been digging in my left hip all afternoon and I was determined to find it before it caused me any more suffering the following day. The only way to do that was to remove everything from my carefully packed bag and repack it. My friends lounged around in the short grass watching as I worked.

The long safety rope joined my waterproofs and first aid kit on the ground.

"I don't know why you bothered bringing that!" teased Gemma

"The book said it was hard scrambling," I retorted. It was true, when I'd researched our route beforehand it had indicated that there was quite a difficult section between two of the peaks we'd climbed today. As the most experienced walker of the group and the one with the greatest fear of falling off narrow ridges I'd decided to include my rope in case it was required. It was yet another decision which had added to the suffering my legs and shoulders now felt.

"I don't even know why you have a rope..." Gemma teased, "It's not like you even LIKE climbing!" She was right of course.

"Exactly, I'd rather have it and not use it." I replied, it was my stock answer.

"Maybe you just like having it with you?" she winked "Perhaps you're looking for any opportunity to indulge in a little bondage!?"

'Where on earth had that come from?' I wondered, she'd hit alarmingly close to the mark. My ex-girlfriend and I had indeed enjoyed some bondage and this rope had been used on many occasion for more interesting purposes than ridge walking. I decided on sarcasm for a response.

"If that's the case you'd better be careful," I warned "you may in fact be talking to a bondage master who is at this moment scheming the best way to tie you up and silence that smart little mouth!" For a moment I feared I'd gone to far so I grinned, that'd throw her off.

My imagination fired instantly, I couldn't help it. There was no denying Gemma was stunning, she had already proved she was in fantastic shape by her constant climbing and enthusiasm during trips. She was smart, I knew how demanding BioChemistry was and from all I could tell she excelled at it. She was wearing her usual walking outfit. Maybe I'm weird, some people like riding outfits, some people like motorbike leathers however I like girls in hill walking kit. Maybe it's something to do with the sports you take part in but seeing a girl in walking trousers and a microfleece does it for me - I can't explain why. Particularly when that girl has shoulder length wavy light brown hair, bright blue eyes and a chest which is emphasised even more by the straps of her rucksack. For a moment a very welcome image of her nude, struggling and bound in a strict hogtie flashed through my mind's eye.

"Go for it!" she replied, her eyes gleaming.

My heart hit my mouth, 'What was she playing at?' I wondered 'Surely she couldn't be suggesting what I thought she was?' I decided that the best strategy would be to bluff her out, after all there was no way we were actually going to do anything half way up a mountainside with Tim here, was there?

"Well it's tempting," I replied pretending to consider her challenge "but what I had in mind wouldn't be possible unless you were at least topless and I'm not sure Tim would approve!"

I looked at my friend for support but he seemed to be laughing at the whole exchange "Go for it!" he grinned "Maybe I could learn a thing or two from the bondage master?" he grinned at me.

'Checkmate,' I thought. Let me explain myself, I didn't actually have any problem with bondage, or Gemma, and certainly not Gemma in bondage. In fact I relished the idea but I was shocked that she was trying to talk me into it here, in front of Tim! I had a very strong suspicion that she'd got a very vanilla idea from somewhere and was trying to talk me into tying her hands behind her back and fondle her a bit through her clothes. Frankly that didn't interest me in the least, I'd tried to put her off with the suggestion of nudity but now she saw it as a challenge. If she backed down she'd been seen as a chicken which was certainly not her style, if I backed down I'd be passing up frankly a great opportunity and would be kicking myself until (and probably after) my graduation. Tim on the other hand was trying to provoke the pair of us.

While my mind was still playing over the possibilities for a tame topless bondage position which would intrigue her enough to let me try it again in private and tame enough that neither she nor Tim would brand me a weirdo she stood up and removed her pink fleece top. Her eyes were locked on mine as she reached down to her waist and pulled her light blue top over her head revealing magnificent breasts supported in a black sports bra. Without a moment's hesitation she pulled the garment off and tossed it onto the pile of her other discarded clothes.

I was agog, it took me several moments to register the view in front of my eyes and what a view it was. Gemma's body was every inch the marvel I'd fantasied that it would be. He hair tickled her shoulders in the slight breeze, she placed her hands on her hips in an expression of impatience. Her narrow waist created a perfect feminine figure, her stomach muscles were clearly visible as she breathed in and out. Her glorious breasts stood out from her body casting a slight shadow, if anything they seemed slightly too large on her athletic frame; however I was not going to be the one to criticise her! Large nipples stood to attention in the mountain breeze.

"So what are you?" she asked "Bondage master or gawking schoolboy?"

With nothing else for it I rose to my feet and picked up my rope.

A rope designed for mountain safety is not actually ideal for tying people up with, it's first major deficiency is that it's a single rope. Most riggers use many different pieces of various lengths, I was going to have to be creative. The other less obvious drawback is that it's dynamic meaning that when a person's weight is applied it stretches slightly. While this is ideal for taking some of the shock out of a heavy fall it's not ideal for binding someone where any flex is obviously a weak point in the tie. I decided there was nothing I could do about this second failure.

I realised I'd already found the midpoint of the rope by the time I was stood in front of Gemma. I was a good couple of inches taller than her and she looked up into my eyes as I created a loop.

"Hold your hands out, cross your wrists!" I instructed. Quickly the girl did as I instructed.

With her arms stretched out in front of her crossed at the wrists it only took a few seconds for me to wrap the loop around her hands and cinch them. I knew I still had a lot of length left so I guided her hands up behind her head so they sat comfortably behind her neck.

This movement had the benefit of unblocking Tim's view of my prisoner's breasts and I heard an appreciative wolf whistle from a rock behind me. Gemma stuck her tongue out at him.

I worked quickly on Gemma's arms while she was focusing on her tormentor. I bound each forearm to it's upper arm so it was impossible for my captive to straighten either limb or return them to her front. Quickly I glanced at my remaining rope, I still had far too much left.

"So what do you reckon?" I asked Gemma "Schoolboy or master?" my captive made a show of struggling, she tried to pull her arms down in front of her again, she tried to uncross her wrists but I knew she was trapped. It only took a few moments for her to realise this as well.

"Hmmm," she considered "too early to tell!" she teased.

I couldn't help myself she was now practically begging for me to take advantage of her. Gemma was a big girl, I was going to have fun with her and she can tell me if there's anything she didn't want me to do!

With that thought in mind I pulled the trailing length of the rope out behind her, I still had a good amount left so I decided that those fantastic breasts needed a good chest harness. How severe would depend on the response I got from the more intimate contact. Taking the remaining rope I wrapped it around her front and beneath her breasts, feeding it behind her back I anchored it against itself so I could wrap the other way without the loop rising up her body. I completed the process several more times until there were several coils of rope resting beneath Gemma's round breasts. I knew the next step instinctively, I had performed it many times before but never on someone as well endowed or on someone half way up a mountainside. The new coils laid above the girl's chest and anchored behind them. I took the ends over her shoulders and fed them down her front to cinch the coils above and below each breast.

This action I knew would surprise her, sure enough the pinch on her chest brought a small exclamation to her lips but there was no sound of resistance. While she continued to consent I took each trailing end and wrapped it firmly around the base of each breast before passing it over her shoulder. Sure enough as always happened one end was slightly longer than the other, dismissing this thought I quickly tied off the ends. Gemma was well and truly trapped, and she knew it!

"Ok," she admitted "maybe you do know what you're doing..."

I admired my work, the young girl was tied with her hands behind her head and her breasts firmly bound. She was still wearing her walking trousers, the bottoms were covered in mud from earlier in the day where we'd waded between two paths. Her leather boots had dried and remained laced up tightly. I'm fairly sure that somewhere behind me I heard the click of Tim's camera. Gemma didn't seem to mind, in fact if anything I thought she stuck out her chest slightly further.

"Aren't you supposed to dominate me now?" the humour had gone from her voice, her eyes were locked on mine.

Slowly she stepped towards me and worked her way down onto her knees, her mouth found it's way into my crotch and in an amazing display of oral dexterity I felt the zip slide slowly down. It was a move I hadn't seen before, however the task of freeing my now bulging cock from my underwear proved too much for her. Taking pity on my captive I completed the task myself and without hesitation she buried my full length in her mouth.

Waves of pleasure shot over me, I'd received enough blowjobs in my time to know that this was something special. Her tongue teased my tip while she bobbed up and down my cock. I was struggling to keep control and I didn't want this game to end quite yet. Reluctantly I pulled away leaving her panting slightly, I had to laugh I was fairly sure this was the first time I'd seen her out of breath all day!

It was at this point I realised that Tim had decided to make a discrete exit, I could see why. The latest development had come as a shock to me, while my friend was comfortable ogling our fresher companion he probably felt that watching blowjobs was a little beyond that line.

"So she wants me to dominate her?" I thought to myself. I pushed my cock back into my trousers and pulled Gemma to her feet. Quickly I set about relieving her of first her walking boots, then her socks and finally pulled her muddy trousers down her long legs. I took great pleasure in removing her panties which perfectly matched her sports bra as it joined it on the grass.

After returning her to the kneeling position I fished in my back for more equipment, I just hoped I brought them. Sure enough a few moments later I was rewarded with two slings and some prussic loops. Together these devices formed the basis for any rope work which was normally required while out in the hills, you could construct all manner of harnesses, belays and abseils with these items. Today I had other tasks in mind. I took each of the slings and after folding them several times and wrapped them around her bent legs, the small prussic loops were ideal for cinching the sling and forcing her into a frogtie. With her legs bound and my prisoner truly restrained I set about tormenting her pussy.

At some point during my assault Gemma rolled onto her front in the short grass, I continued to play with her clit driving her towards an orgasm before letting it slip away from her. Her breasts, still beautifully wrapped in my climbing rope, looked exquisite as she propped her body weight on them.

I ran my hand through my hair as I felt a tickle on the back of my neck, ignoring the sensation I pushed my fingers inside Gemma's now dripping pussy. She gasped as I entered her. My shoulder was itching. I continued to work the poor girl towards a frenzy, playing with her clit and toying with her G-spot was having the desired affect. Why was my face itching?

"Stop!" gasped Gemma, instantly I withdrew my hand.

Had I hurt her? Was she uncomfortable going this far? Had she got cramp? I panicked as I scratched the back of my hand.

"The midges!" she screamed.

"Shit!" I realised what was happening and why a red welt had appeared on the back of my hand.

"Let me out! Let me out!" she panicked pulling furiously against her bonds.

The Scottish midge is a vicious little creature, most guide books describe it as a small biting fly which swarm in their millions at dawn and dusk in many parts of Scotland. They bite their victims which while harmless is extremely irritating. When they attack in number (as they inevitably do) they can become very unpleasant. Personally I've always described them to younger members of the club by comparing them to their closest relation... the tiger. All though smaller than their feline counterparts they are far more vicious! I'd obviously had my mind on other things and had failed to notice the gentle breeze dropping and swarms of midges descend on our private loch.

Although the site of a naked woman as attractive as Gemma struggling furiously against my bonds is a turn on I'm not into cruel and unusual forms of torture and I released her as quickly as I could. The nude figure (still trailing my climbing rope from her bound wrists) vanished into her tent in record time.

It was several minutes later (by which time I had also retrieved my midge net and liberally applied coats of insect repellent) when she emerged in a new set of clothes carrying my now coiled climbing rope.

So I have to confess that our first outdoor experiment didn't exactly finish satisfactorily for either party (of course we didn't admit that to Tim when he eventually returned sporting several midge bites of his own). Although let me assure you there were many more times when it did. Wales we discovered has far fewer midges than Scotland and the little buggers don't come out in the snow at all!

The End

Copyright© 2012 by Fictitious Slave. All rights reserved.