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She was sitting by the water, a group of ducks at her feet clamoring and fighting over the breadcrumbs she tossed to them. Through the glare of the setting sun, she saw him with his own entourage of ducks, slowly walking toward her, tossing food to the ducks which followed him.

As the sun cast it's last golden hue on the ripples at her feet, he came to sit next to her. She had never seen him before, yet she did not move from her position. He said nothing, but watched her toss the last crumbs, then the chevrons of water as they rippled behind the ducks as they followed a passer-by.

The sun had completely set, and the stranger still sat beside her, commenting on the water, ducks, warmth of the breeze, the way the leaves stirred gently. She listened, wanting to leave, but feeling frozen in place. Once, she tried to get up, but he pulled her back with a gentle yet firm tug on her sleeve. So she sat, silent, hoping he would tire of this game. But he did not.

A half moon rose over the horizon, casting an eerie light on the grass and the water. At last he rose, and she sighed with relief. To her dismay, he reached for her hands and pulled her to her feet. Not knowing what he would do, or what he wanted, she slowly turned and began to walk. He followed her, one half pace behind her left shoulder.

The path led to the parking lot, and she thought soon she would be across it and inside her apartment. Usually she didn't hurry there; it was small, sparsely and drably furnished, just a place to stay while getting established in this new city. Almost eagerly she walked toward it, and the dark safe womb it represented in her mind.

The path forked. She walked toward the right, as she always did going home. He took her arm and steered her onto the left path, guiding her steps on the unfamiliar way. The manicured grass gave way to scrubby brush, and trees grew from the bushes in wild abandon; this area of the park had not been developed, but left as it had always been.

The path curved through the thickening brush, and dipped into the cleft between two hills. He kept her from falling a number of times, and she was confused by the feeling of gratefulness she expressed to him. After all, she wouldn't be here except for the gentle force he applied to her arm in steering her. In this confusion, she had little time to worry about where he was taking her, but walked the unfamiliar path feeling strangely numb.

They neared the brook at the bottom of the rift, and he steered her onto the bridge which crossed it. The thought rose in her, that this was a border; she would not be the same after crossing the stream.

At his gentle urging, she walked across the bridge and along the path out of the cleft. His hand at her elbow both reassured and frightened her as he led her a short way. A parting of the brush showed a trail toward a gnarled oak, and along that trail he led her. She followed, to numb to resist.

In the shade of the oak he stopped her, and turned her to face him. His hands slid around her waist and embraced her softly. As if of their own volition, her arms crept from her side and enfolded him, her forhead pressed against his chest. As the embrace loosened, she moved her body away, yet her forhead remained where it was, looking through the gap between their bodies to the grass under their feet.

She felt his hands still at her back, rubbing up and down over the buttons which closed her dress in the back. A finger caught under the top button, and frayed buttonhole released button with no effort at all. The warm summer breeze caressed her back, and with each button opening it found wider access to her uncovered back. The last button released and the fabric billowed, exposing her back from neck to below her waist. His hands felt strangely good on her skin.

His hands caressing her neck, stroking her hair and tracing her ears deepened the trance she felt she was in. She did not notice when his hands dropped to her shoulders, only that the front of her dress was was falling away. Her arms dropped as his hands swept the thin fabric from her shoulders, letting the top fall into the gap between them as she watched. His hands followed the curve of her side until it met cloth, which he pushed past her hip. She watched the dress slide down her legs to envelope her feet. He rocked her in his arms, and pulled her toward the tree, leaving the dress a soft circle in the grass.

She felt his hands on the sides of her panties, his fingers moving the fabric lower on her hip with each sweeping caress. Being old and stretched, they dropped as far as her closed legs allowed, staying there until his feet between hers began to move apart, releasing the cloth to billow to her feet. He walked her out of them, to a smooth spot below the oak. Still holding her close, he reached into a low crotch in the tree, and brought down a thick pad, the type movers use to protect furniture. He admonished her to stay, and stepped away to spread the blanket on the ground. With tender caresses, he brought her to stand on the mat, near one edge, and pushed her to her knees with pressure on her shoulders. She obeyed the cues with no reluctance; no resistance, no thought of disobeying his kind but firm mastery. As he moved forward, she first sat on the pad, then laid back, watching the stars around his head, watching as he stood by her feet.

It was an unfamiliar feeling for her, being caressed by the gently moving air, especially on her breasts and the now freed hair at the junction of body and thigh. For a few moments as he stood there, she was lost in the new sensations, feeling both trapped and yet freedom beyond any she had ever experienced. She watched as he looked at her looking at him, and felt strangely at peace.

He began to move. Slowly and deliberately she watched him open his shirt, then pulling his arms out of the sleeves gracefully. With the same deliberate smooth slowness, she watched him take off his shoes and socks. His hands moved to his waist, unbuckled his belt, and snapped the waistband open. She heard the snap, then the sound of the zipper being pulled, and watched as the jeans opened, dropped, and were put with the rest of his clothes.

Her eyes were drawn to his body; never before had she seen a man naked before. The flatness of his belly, with the rising fleshy organ where she had none, the muscular thighs shining in the moonlight fascinated her. He was slowly moving, almost dancing to an inner rhythm, and as she watched the movement, she felt his feet move beween her feet, and moved them apart to give him room to dance.

She watched him kneel at her side, and felt his hand on her naked belly, tracing the curve of her ribs, outlining and exploring her navel, caressing the hollowness between ribs and pubic rise. His hands came to cup her breasts, and she felt the nipples harden, though she felt no cold. Instead, she felt a glowing warmth spreading through her, and was surprised at the occasional shiver that shook her.

Deeper she slipped into the trance. Unable to resist, defend, she felt him lie beside her, his hand tracing circles over her belly and thighs. When his hand brushed the hair at belly's base, she felt for the first time how her body responded to such touch. Never before had she known the sensations now from her groin to enervate all of her body, her entire being.

She felt him shift, and felt his leg cover hers, his body sliding over hers, the moistness of the thin fluid from his manhood leaving a cool trace on her thigh. He knelt between her knees, and she saw the jutting stiffness throbbing on his thighs. She watched with detatchment as he rocked forward, coming to rest on one elbow placed by her shoulder, and felt the round prodding in the soft flesh behind her pubic bone. It slipped around, opening the now moist lips, pushing ever toward the opening the soft folds concealed. It surprised her that her hips were moving to meet him, thrusting as if they had a life of their own.

The pressure increased as he lowered himself further, and she felt her hips rocking to bring her softness to his hard probe. Her legs lifted her groin to meet him, and felt the round head slip into the vestibule behind the muscles concealed in the folds. Inward it pressed until she felt impaled to the core of her being. Taken to the very depths of her body and soul. Inward and out she felt the smooth friction, rocking with each movement in rhythm with his.

Forever or a moment, she had no concept of how long it had been. An eternity of tension, released in a shudder of moments or hours, she had no idea what had happened within her being. The moment, or hours, passed into stupor, from which she rose again to shudder in pleasure. The fire within her ebbed and flowed, warming and cooling, rising and ebbing, filling her with sensations she knew nothing of.

She felt the thickening and lengthening within her, then the spurting throbbing of that hard core inside. One last time the fires inside her flared to extinguish her awareness of her surroundings and self. The weight on her belly and his warm breath on her cheek gave her indication the movement was ended, and slowly she wakened again to awareness of him, the now softening, shrinking between the folds and the muscles below. At last the roundness slipped from her, and he rose to kneel by her feet again.

He rose to his feet, and slowly dressed. She watched as his body was covered in cloth, and wondered if he would dress her too. When he was dressed, he sat by her side, stroking her hair and caressing her cheek. He lifted her to a sitting position, and kissed her cheek and forehead. For the first time she looked into his eyes, and saw a the reflection of herself, sitting. For a moment she thought she would stroke his cheek, but his hand caught her arm as it rose.

She felt the cord loop over her fingers, and closed her hand to allow the loop to pass. It tightened around her wrist, and tenderly he pulled that arm to her other. He tied both wrists together, and idly she wondered how he would get her dressed while tied like this.

He drew her to her feet, and brought out a chain from a pocket, looped it around her neck, and locked it with a small padlock. He led her to where her clothes were lying, and picked them up and put them on the pad, which he rolled and tucked under his arm.

She followed as calmly and quietly as before, accepting the leash as if it belonged. Over the bridge and up the gentle slope she followed, onto the path to the parking lot. The park was abandoned, so no one could see her being led by the chain to a van parked alone. He opened the door and helped her climb in, and fastened the leash to the grab rail on the dash. The cold plastic on her warm behind felt new and strange, so odd and different, as the evening had been.

He entered his side, and started the engine. The road rolled under them at a leisurely pace. Away from the town, the road was lonely and dark, lit only by headlights and the moon above. He drove to the side and stopped after a while, and opened the glove box and pulled out a blindfold which he tied over her eyes.

For a while longer she felt the swaying and rolling as they travelled the road once more. The sound of the tires changed as he drove over gravel, slowly and carefully he guided the van up the drive. He stopped the engine, and she heard him get out, then her door opened and she heard the chain being taken from the rail. He helped her get out, and she felt grass under her feet as he led her away. The grass gave way to the smooth tile of a walk, and then she was stopped and heard him open a door. He led her inside, and closed the door again, then led her down a hallway that echoed strangely. She heard another door open, was turned to go through, then stopped and seated at the edge of what she took for a bed.

He looped the chain through the frame of the bed, and she heard the lock snap in. He untied her hands, then rose. Expectantly she waited for what was to come, but all she heard were his steps as he walked out and closed the door. She waited in vain; he did not return. At last she lifted her hands to her face, and took the blindfold from her eyes.





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