A view for the squirrels – [MF, outdoors/camping]
Your senses are becoming borderline gluttonous; the smell of pine, the light breeze chilling your ass, the distant sound of water – maybe a creek – it’s hard to tell with the blindfold. The restraints aren’t painful, but suddenly feel worryingly secure.
How long had you been on display for the creatures of the forest? It couldn’t have been more than five minutes. Ten?
You’d heard his footsteps leave the campsite. He’d said he was going to gather some firewood and was leaving you “as a curious surprise for the squirrels.”
“Do squirrels participate in voyeurism? Would it then only be of other squirrels? Or is any vagina – just another vagina? Shoot, if so wouldn’t he prefer it with hair – more squirrel like?”
The sun on your cunt is warm, and your thoughts bounce between fantasy, primal desire and cautious apprehension.
Suddenly, the sound of sticks cracking within earshot cause you to try and jolt upright, but restraints prevent it.
You call out “Hey! You’re back! I was worried!” But there is no response.