Wild Surrender: A Siren’s Descent into Primal Lust
Under the dim glow of the dashboard lights, Vivian Hart gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles whitening as the winding mountain road twisted ahead like a serpent uncoiling. The Cascade peaks loomed dark and jagged against the stormy sky, thunder rumbling in the distance—a perfect mirror to the chaos brewing inside her. She’d ditched the corporate jet life for this rugged drive from Seattle, chasing the promise of a weekend that would shatter her polished facade. Ryan Cole waited at the remote trailhead cabin, his texts all week dripping with commands that made her thighs clench. Jump to Chapter 2 | Jump to Chapter 3 | Jump to Chapter 4 | Jump to Chapter 5 | Jump to Chapter 6
Chapter 1: Fractured Facade
Vivian slumped into the leather armchair across from Dr. Sophia Reyes, the therapist’s office reeking of lavender incense and stale coffee from the mug on her desk. Rain pattered against the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Puget Sound, a relentless drumbeat matching the pulse in Vivian’s temples.
“Spill it, Viv. Your emails screamed meltdown.” Sophia leaned forward, her dark eyes piercing.
Vivian rubbed her temples, her manicured nails digging in. “The Portland office imploded. Nolan—the regional director—and his crew were running underground fuck-fests right under the conference room table. Videos leaked. Over thirty staffers tangled in it, swapping partners like trading cards. I had to torch most of them.”
Sophia’s eyebrows shot up. “Swingers incorporated? Bold.”
“Not quite. Nolan’s PA tracked it all—preferences, schedules, even blackmail logs on the company server. Married, single, didn’t matter. Rumors flew through the ranks, but NDAs kept mouths shut until a disgruntled janitor blew the whistle.” Vivian’s voice cracked, bitterness flooding her mouth like bile. She pictured the firings: tear-streaked faces, pleas echoing in sterile boardrooms. Her own hypocrisy gnawed deeper—while axing them, she’d been video-chatting Ryan, fingers buried in her slick folds as he barked orders.
“And the fallout?” Sophia prodded.
“CEO Harlan— that pious fuck—demanded blood. Son of a televangelist, sees sin everywhere. I greenlit the purge myself. Now lawsuits pile up, and I’m drowning in replacement hunts.” She paused, heat flushing her cheeks. “But it’s bullshit. Those poor bastards were just chasing highs, same as me with Ryan.”
Sophia nodded, scribbling notes. “The VP of Marketing, queen of control, moonlighting as a phone slut? How’s that sit with your ironclad rules?”
Vivian laughed, sharp and hollow. “My rules are bending. Ryan and I… we’ve gone full Dom-Sub on calls. Me yielding, him owning. It’s wild, Sophia—raw, electric. Better than any boardroom win.”
“Switching roles?”
“Sometimes I’m Madame, cracking the whip. Control’s my drug. But submitting? It’s freeing. No guilt, just pure, throbbing need.”
Sophia hummed thoughtfully. “Power exchanges are tricky. You’re rewriting your code mid-flight.”
“Fuck the code. Harlan’s purging lives for bedroom romps, while Ryan and I play safe on personal lines. No traces.” Vivian’s core tightened at the memory—Ryan’s voice growling, “Spread wider, slut,” her screen filled with his thick cock stroking furiously.
“Meeting him soon?”
“Cabin in the Cascades. Three days of whatever depravity he craves. I’m done fighting it.” Thunder boomed outside, vibrating the glass. Vivian stood, smoothing her pencil skirt. Wild urges clawed at her restraint, promising oblivion.
“Process the hypocrisy,” Sophia warned. “Or it’ll devour you.”
Vivian smirked. “Let it. I’m starving for release.” 🔥
Chapter 2: The Forbidden Package
Back in her sleek Bellevue condo, Vivian tore open the parcel Ryan had overnighted. Her heart hammered as she scanned the note: “Cabin awaits, pet. Obey, and I’ll unleash hell on that tight body. Wear this—no bra, no thong. Drive safe… or don’t.”
Inside: silver nipple rings with a delicate chain, vibrating egg remote-controlled, sheer black halter dress barely skimming her ass, and thigh-high leather boots. She stripped, the cool air kissing her skin like a lover’s breath. Clipping the rings sent jolts straight to her clit—nipples hardening into peaks, aching sweetly.
She slipped into the dress, fabric whispering over curves honed by spin classes and stress-fueled runs. Mirror check: tits thrust forward, chain’s outline teasing through silk; boots elongating legs that begged to wrap around a waist. The egg nestled deep in her pussy, remote in her purse—for Ryan.
Flashback hit hard: Weeks ago, Portland strategy summit. Ryan, the rugged branch head with sun-bleached hair and a rancher’s build from Montana summers, cornered her post-meeting. One drink led to his hotel suite, where she rode him reverse cowgirl, her cries muffled in pillows as he slapped her ass raw. “You’re mine now,” he’d growled. Video calls escalated: her on all fours, ass plugged; him edging for hours.
Engine roaring to life, Vivian merged onto I-90. The egg hummed faintly—had he hacked the remote? No, just nerves. Pine-scented wind rushed through cracked windows, mixing with her arousal’s musky tang. Billboards blurred; her mind raced to the cabin’s isolation—no neighbors, just wilderness and Ryan’s wild dominance. 💋
Halfway up the pass, she pulled over at a viewpoint, thighs slick. Dialing Ryan: “En route, Sir. Dressed like your whore.”
“Good girl. Rampage that engine. I’ll sense your wet cunt from here.” Click.
She shivered, fingers itching to plunge inside. Not yet. Obedience fueled the fire.
Chapter 3: Trailhead Claiming
Rain slicked the gravel as Vivian’s SUV crunched to a halt beside Ryan’s battered Jeep at the trailhead. Cabin lights flickered a quarter-mile in, smoke curling from the chimney—pine logs crackling, she imagined the woody smoke stinging her nostrils.
Ryan emerged from shadows, flannel shirt unbuttoned over jeans hugging his thick thighs, work boots caked in mud. His green eyes devoured her as she stepped out, dress plastered translucent by drizzle, nipples straining against rings.
“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped, voice gravel from cigarettes and commands. No hello—just yanking her into a bruising kiss. Tongues battled, his stubble scraping her chin, hands mauling her ass through wet silk. She tasted whiskey on him, felt his cock grind hard against her belly.
Gasping apart, she twirled as ordered, dress flaring to flash shaved mound. “Your slut, Sir. Ready for the wild ride.”
He chuckled dark, palming her tits. “Chain’s perfect. Feel that?” Pinch—pain-laced pleasure arched her back. “Hike the trail. Ass out.”
Flashlight beam bouncing, they trudged mud-sucking paths. Rain lashed skin; leaves slapped wet thighs. Every step jiggled the egg, her pussy clenching emptily. Ryan’s hand grazed her crack occasionally, dipping to tease the egg’s tail. “Dripping already? Nasty bitch.”
Cabin door banged shut behind them. Heat blasted—fire’s roar, leather couch scent, stew bubbling on stove. He shoved her against the wall, boots thudding. “Strip. Boots stay.”
Dress pooled at ankles; she stood in boots and rings, egg humming now—remote in his pocket. Knees buckled as vibrations ramped, clit throbbing untouched.
“On the rug, knees wide.” He lounged in armchair, unzipping. His cock sprang free—veiny monster, pre-cum beading. “Boot worship first.”
Crawling, she bent double, ass high, tongue laving mud from his boots. Salty grit, leather tang—humiliating bliss. “Mmm, wild bitch loves filth,” he murmured, remote whirring higher. Orgasm teetered; she whimpered.
“Not yet.” Slap—ass cheek stung fiery.
Chapter 4: Edge of the Abyss
Ryan hauled her up by hair, chain yanking nipples till tears pricked. “Bedroom. Present.”
Rustic four-poster dominated, flannel sheets rumpled. She knelt on mattress, knees splayed, back arched—pussy and ass offered like tribute. He circled, shedding clothes: broad chest dusted blond, abs rippling, cock bobbing heavy.
Fingers probed her slit. “Soaked. Thought of my dick splitting you all drive?”
“Yes, Sir. Wild dreams of you wrecking me.” Honesty burned; vulnerability cracked her armor.
He lubed a plug—bigger than their video props—pressing to her rosebud. “Breathe.” Breach slow, burn blooming to fullness. She moaned, rocking back.
“Hands lock behind neck.” Tits hoisted, he straddled her chest, cock smearing lips. “Suck.”
She engulfed him—salty musk flooding tongue, veins pulsing. Gagging deep, drool spilling, he face-fucked ruthlessly. Egg buzzed merciless; plug shifted with thrusts. Sight blurred: his balls slapping chin, firelight dancing on sweat-slick muscle.
Withdraw sudden. “On back. No touching.”
Legs butterflied, he dove in—no mercy. Tongue lashed inner folds, teeth nipping labia. Fingers curled G-spot, thumb circling—but skipping clit. Her holy grail untouched, body screaming.
“Please… clit…” Hips bucked instinctive.
Slap—thigh quivered red. “My pace, whore.” Torture dragged: lips sucked, hood flicked teasing; orgasm dangled cruel. Minutes? Eternity? She thrashed, boots gouging sheets, scent of her cream thick.
He reared up, plugging yanked free. “Beg.”
“Fuck me, Sir! Ruin this wild cunt!”
Plunge—brutal, balls-deep. Stretch exquisite; walls gripped ridges. Pounding savage, chain tugged with each thrust, nipples screaming ecstasy.
“Cum now.” Command tipped her—convulsions milking him, vision whiting. He roared, flooding hot jets deep.
Collapse tangled, breaths heaving. But his eyes gleamed feral. “Round one. Night’s young.” 💋
Chapter 5: Midnight Revelations
Midnight storm raged, wind howling through pines like banshees. Vivian woke chained loosely to bedposts—wrists silk-tied, ankles free. Ryan stoked fire nude, cock half-hard again. Stew’s savory aroma wafted; he fed her bites between bites of her flesh.
“Portland mess eating you?” he murmured, sauce dripping her nipple, licked clean.
She nodded, vulnerability surging post-orgasm haze. “Fired innocents for fucking on clock-time. Harlan’s zealot ass. While I’m your pet.”
“Hypocrite queen.” Grin wicked. “Own it. Your wild side craves this chaos.”
Untied, he led to hot tub on deck—steam rising into rain, jets churning water to froth. Entry scalding bliss; she straddled him reverse, sinking onto cock slow. Water lapped tits; his hands spanned ass, guiding bounce.
“Ride hard.” Splashes, moans drowned by thunder. Plug reinserted—double stuffed, she ground frantic. Clit ground his pubes; waves built tsunami.
New scene: Dawn hike flashback—wait, no, real-time. Post-tub, towels ditched, they fucked trail-side. Douglas fir bark scraped her back; his thrusts pinned her mid-air, legs hooked elbows. Birdsong pierced fog; earth smell mingled cum-musk. “Wild fuck in God’s backyard,” he grunted, painting her tits white ropes.
Back inside, guilt resurfaced. “Job’s poison. But you… this.”
“Quit chasing rails. Submit fully.” Fingers in hair, tender-rough kiss.
Nap interrupted: He bound her spread-eagle, ice from cooler tracing veins. Melt trails to pussy—cold shock then heat. Feathers tickled soles; vibrator taped soles buzzed through bones. Sensory overload; she shattered thrice, sheets soaked.
“Your turn,” she whispered later, switching. Strapped him prone, crop whistling ass—welts blooming red. “My wild stallion.” Rode face to squirt; pegged slow, prostate milked till he begged mercy.
Chapter 6: Primal Reckoning
Sunday dawned crisp, sun piercing clouds. Breakfast feral: her bent over table, eating pancakes off plate while he railed from behind. Syrup sticky thighs, fork clatters punctuating grunts. “Cum in me, breed this slut,” she gasped. Flood warm, leaking down boots.
Afternoon cliff-edge overlook— vertigo wind whipping hair. He bent her over log, skirtless dress hiked. Ass-fuck raw: spit lube only, stretch agonizing rapture. “Scream wild into void!” Orgasms chained, vision splintering rainbows.
Reality crept: drive home loomed. Packing, conflict tore. “Harlan’s world suffocates,” she confessed, tears salting skin.
Ryan cupped face, thumb tracing lips. “Ditch it. Us against corporate hell.”
Decision crystallized—resignation drafted mentally. Last fuck: missionary slow-burn, eyes locked. “Love this wild you,” he breathed.
Parting kiss lingered, promises electric. SUV roared down pass; her pussy throbbed sated, soul lighter. Therapy Tuesday: truths unleashed. Life remade in fire’s forge—no regrets, only hunger for more.
Back in Seattle, skyline glittered indifferent. But inside, embers smoldered. Wild surrender complete. 🔥💋
