Previous stories in this series: Off-Road Goddess, Paddled in the Boondocks, Lunch With A Dominatrix, A Painful Test.


Pulling into the parking lot of my apartment complex one weekend afternoon, I saw my friend Mike unloading a set of new wheels from the back of his small 4x4 pickup. Oversize heavy lugged tires mounted on plain black painted steel rims. He was rolling them one at a time to the side door of his building, which led to the laundry room and storage bins.

"Looks like you bought a set of play tires," I said, walking up to him. Play tires. A term that Miss Julia used to describe wheels like these that she put on her Jeep when driving off-road. Mike considered her to be a psycho bitch so I was not surprised when his response was only half a smile and a grunt as he hefted one wheel down the short flight of stairs to the side door. I grabbed another wheel and followed him inside where I saw that Mike had a lot more work ahead of him. I would have had the sense to clear some space in my storage bin before bringing home four massive wheels.

Before I left him to his task, he invited me to go four-wheeling and camping with him and some of his friends next weekend. I had to assume that Miss Julia would be there and we had not parted on the best of terms. Perhaps I should have taken some time to make my decision but thinking that other people would be around, the worst thing that could happen would be that she would give me the cold shoulder treatment or possibly some insulting remarks. I could handle that, so I accepted his invitation.

As the following week wore on, I began to get nervous about facing Miss Julia. We had originally met on one of these four-wheeling trips. A beautiful and strong willed brunette, several years older than I. When I learned she liked to dominate her boyfriends, I confessed to her that having a female domination session had always been a fantasy of mine. She was more than happy to let me worship the rubber boots that she wore, and then she whipped my bare ass with her belt. Ever since then she preferred that I address her as Miss Julia and it was difficult now for me to think of her as just Julia.

We got together several times after that for domination sessions, and then dated seriously for almost two months. I had been the one to terminate our relationship just as it was really starting to evolve. Having been invited to a shack on a horse farm where she lived for free in exchange for doing odd jobs, she had given me a savage beating with a riding crop. Miss Julia claimed it was a test to prove if I was worthy of being her boyfriend, being able to withstand such a punishment which might be necessary in the future. While I had endured the pain as best I could, she told me that I had failed the test. I was then forced to worship her asshole until she had a powerful orgasm. It had been extremely arousing at time, though afterwards I felt degraded as she made it clear that licking her asshole might be the only use that she would have for me in her bedroom. Then she kicked me out the door, saying that she would call me later to schedule another test.

Several weeks passed without hearing from Miss Julia, and over those days I thought a lot about the times she and I had spent together. There were dinners and other activities that a dating couple would do, but also paddling and whippings that she had administered with enthusiasm. She was clearly a lifestyle dominatrix and had used my female domination fantasies, my fetishes for sexy boots, high heels, and of course her beauty, to lure me under her control. Miss Julia had taken me further than I had imagined beyond my limits of pain, submission, and obedience. She had taken me to a world where she ruled and even if I wasn't at her feet all the time, I was still under her command. Had I been her boyfriend, while I would have been free to make my own decisions, she would always have the final say. To disobey her would result in a harsh punishment, which she would be all too happy to administer to reinforce her position of authority. I had not been willing to enter into such a relationship and so I began dating someone else, although in the end that did not work out either.

The four-wheeling trip with Mike and his friends followed pretty much the same plan as the first one that I went on. We left the apartment complex early on a Saturday morning and met at a remote outpost of a convenient store gas station, located near a national forest. I'd helped Mike put his new tires on his truck the night before, and they were noisy on the pavement. The ride was bouncy and seemed unstable. Having to restrain his lead foot, we arrived a bit late.

Dave, a burly redneck dude, and his chunky girlfriend Sue were already there, standing beside a different Jeep than I had seen last time. This one was a modified rust bucket that had at one time been painted a dark green, fitted with monster tires that I doubted were street legal. Miss Julia's yellow Jeep was there, sporting her play tires, and she was chatting casually with them while attracting admiring stares from a young man over by the gas pumps. After we pulled up, Dave immediately started checking out Mike's new tires.

"Hello, Eric," Miss Julia said to me, turning her nose up slightly. She was wearing her black rubber riding boots as I had expected, and they looked freshly cleaned with a low shine. Her fine ass was molded into a pair of Daisy Dukes that seemed higher cut than normal, and her raven dark wavy hair spilled over the shoulders of a well worn red plaid flannel shirt that had the sleeves cut off and was unbuttoned enough to recklessly display her cleavage. It made sense that she had gotten word that I would be coming along and had purposely dressed to tease me as a subtle form of revenge. I caught a faint trace of perfume as she strutted coldly past me, then bent over to inspect Mike's tires, purposefully tilting her ass so it would be provocatively displayed for me. She only looked at the new wheels for a moment and then taunted Mike, saying he would only dig himself into more trouble and need both her and Dave to pull him out.

After some discussion it was decided to start with the route we took on the last trip. While Dave considered that to normally be easy driving, there had been some heavy rains in the area over the last few days so conditions were going to be muddy and more difficult. Assuming Mike's tires worked well enough, we would use a fire access road to get to a more challenging area.

Conditions on the trail were indeed muddy. We had to stop early because Mike's windshield was completely smeared with mud and he hadn't thought to fill the washer fluid reservoir before the trip. While the others watched him attempt to clean the glass with a rag, I found an empty two liter soda bottle off in the brush. After I filled it with water from a ditch, I told Mike to pop the hood so I could pour it in his washer fluid tank. Though Miss Julia was cool, aloof, and silent during this whole stop, I thought I caught a glimpse of a small grin on her face, as if she were somehow pleased that I had been resourceful enough to solve the problem.

Once back on the trail she led our procession at a responsible pace. Dave seemed to be held back, purposely spinning his tires and fishtailing around in any shallow mud available. Splattered and bringing up the rear, I was glad I had thought to top off the bottle of water before we got moving again as Mike was often squirting down his windshield and the reservoir would probably have to be refilled later. His new tires seemed to make a big difference and we made good progress. After a short while we took the fire road to a more difficult trail. Here, Mike’s success and resulting cockiness were his undoing at a long deeply rutted twisting section that was known locally as the gauntlet. Miss Julia had barely made it through and Dave left a wallowed mess that left us stuck halfway in. It was a lot of work getting him out, using the winch on Miss Julia's Jeep, as well as some heavy chains and a come-along that Dave had.

We all took a short rest after that. I was relieving myself behind a tree when suddenly Dave and Sue drove off. To my surprise, Mike started up his truck and followed after them without me. Walking back to the muddy trail, Miss Julia was already behind the wheel of her Jeep, the engine idling softly. The window was down on the passenger side and she called out, "You're riding with me." It was an order, not an invitation, and as the sound of the other vehicles faded off down the trail, I knew I had no choice but to obey.

I had ridden in her Jeep a number of times before, but never off-road. The stereo was turned off and I saw the stubby shifter for the transfer case was engaged in four wheel drive. I had to roll up my window as she seemed to purposely brush the sides of trees so that small branches would whip and snap inside and close to my face. Her tall boots were coated with a film of drying mud, but otherwise she managed to remain clean. Staying in second gear, we lagged further and further behind the others, and I assumed that was intentional.

While her demeanor was calm and collected, her silence was deafening over the sound of tires splashing through the shallow muddy ruts and the low rumble of the engine. Paranoia began to set in as I realized that Mike had seen me with Sandra in the parking lot of our apartment complex. She was the young lady I had dated after breaking things off with Miss Julia. It was entirely possible that Miss Julia had contacted Mike and asked him if I was dating anyone. He would have ratted me out for certain. While I consider him to be a good friend, I know that he is intimidated by Miss Julia and would be a willing stool pigeon for her. No doubt she had ordered him to drive off without me, and he probably complied without any question. For all I knew, this whole trip could have been planned by Miss Julia as an opportunity for us to be together.

At a curve in the trail she slowed and downshifted into first gear. Barely crawling along now, she seemed to be looking for something on her side of the trail. I briefly saw the slight parting in the brush which looked like an overgrown footpath before Miss Julia turned the steering wheel hard, stomped on the gas, and blasted into the woods. We were on an overgrown road and it only went a short distance before ending at a small clearing. Miss Julia shut off the engine, ratcheted the parking brake lever, and opened her door.

"Let’s get out and talk," she said in a low menacing voice. The ground here was soft and muddy. A crippled picnic table was off to one side and rusty remains of fire ring, now filled with weed growth, which told me that this was a back country campsite that saw little use. I walked around to the front of the Jeep and faced Miss Julia, who was standing with her hands on her hips and had a dark scowl on her face.

"About a month ago I called your office and you didn’t answer your phone. I called later in the day, the main number this time, your receptionist said you were in and transferred my call. Still, I got your voice mail. That time I left a message for you. What was that message?” Miss Julia asked in a cold voice.

“You said something like I had four hours to call you back, Miss Julia,” I weakly replied.

“But you didn’t call me back,” she said. “And now I demand an explanation.”

It was true that I hadn’t called her back, and at the time I had feared some sort of retribution. I thought she might show up at my apartment some evening to confront me but nothing had happened so I thought I was safe. Now it seemed that Miss Julia was ready to take care of some unfinished business. Of all the female domination porn I have looked at, some of my favorite photos are at the beginning of a series, where the man is being confronted by his mistress. You know he is going to be punished and it is clear that he is helpless and has no choice but to accept whatever she cares to dish out. I knew I was in that situation right now, and there was nothing arousing about it.

Though I know little about martial arts, her stance had that sort of quality. If I were unwise and tried to attack her I would probably be flipped over her shoulder and stomped into the mud. If I was foolish enough to run I would probably be quickly tackled. Either way I would be painfully forced to answer all her questions. Even if Mike hadn’t told her that I had dated someone else, if I lied and was caught trying to deceive her, there would be hell to pay. Without thinking any further, I dropped to my knees and told her everything. How the last time we spent together, the painful test of being whipped by her riding crop had been too much for me to bear.

"You are a sexy goddess, Miss Julia," I said. "The dominatrix of my dreams, but I can't take the heavy punishment." I confessed that shortly after our last session I had met Sandra and dated her for a few weeks. "It was then that you called, Miss Julia, and I was too afraid to talk to you. I didn't think you would understand." My voice was wavering and I realized I had clasped my hands together under my chin in the classic begging and pleading position.
"Where is this Sandra now?" she asked, taking a few steps forward to stand directly in front of me. "We're no longer seeing each other, Miss Julia," I explained. "It just didn't work out. Her family, they are very close knit. My family lives out of state. I think I told you that once before. I moved here right after college and rarely have contact with them. It’s just better that way. Sandra and her family, they thought that was strange and always confronted me about that."

I knew enough to safely assume that Miss Julia’s upbringing had been rough. That probably influenced her as an adult, now taking charge of her own life and the few others close to her. If I had seemingly left my past behind that was probably something she could relate to and I hoped that would buy me some sympathy.

"We just stopped going out and it was a mutual decision. I can put you in touch with her if you don't believe me, Miss Julia," my voice now tapering into a squeaky pleading tone. She raised a muddy booted foot and rested it on one of my shoulders. She ground the muddy sole into my shoulder as if adjusting her balance, but then suddenly pushed me over backwards. In a split second I was flat on my back. Miss Julia stood over me and then planted her boot in the center of my chest. As I lay there helpless on the ground I could feel the cool wet mud soaking into my clothing and my hair.

"That was disrespectful to not call me back, Eric," Miss Julia said in a raised voice, staring down at me with her dark eyes. "You disrespected me and for that you deserve to be punished. Now, since you think I'm too rough and you are too much of a wimp to take it, I'm going to be nice and give you a choice. Look over there!" she ordered, pointing a finger towards the woods. From my view on the ground, at first I saw nothing but trees. Then I realized she was pointing at a marker on a tree for a hiking trail.

"You either take your punishment like a man, right now, or you're hiking out of here. I'll give you a bottle of water and a sandwich. If you set a good pace you can make it to a shelter at the trailhead a few hours from now and we'll pick you up there later. This is a rare and generous offer, so what do you want to do?"

There was no way of knowing what sort of punishment she had in mind. Her skimpy cutoff shorts were circled at the waist with the sort of belt I associate with heavy metal rockers. Wide, with the black leather barely visible between multiple rows of square chrome lightly pointed studs. Wielded by Miss Julia, that belt would be more than effective for a harsh whipping. However, it seemed to me that she had planned this encounter in advance and could easily have her homemade wooden paddle, riding crop, or who knows what other implements on board her Jeep.

"What's it going to be?" Miss Julia demanded to know for the second time, momentarily removing her boot from my chest and lightly kicking some mud towards the side of my face.

"I'll take the punishment I deserve, Miss Julia," I said, spitting a small piece of mud from my lips. "I'll submit willingly, Miss Julia."

She seemed surprised by my answer, and while I'd had little time to consider my choices, accepting my fate seemed like the smartest move. Miss Julia would probably let me hike out unharmed if I wished, but I had no doubt she would hold a grudge and I'd find myself at her feet sometime in the future, forced to make a similar choice again.

Having decided to take the punishment, there was no point wasting my time begging for her to be merciful. Miss Julia would do as she pleased no matter how much I might beg.
"Take off your clothes," she ordered, walking over to the driver's door of her Jeep.

I stood up and began to remove my wet muddy clothes. The hood of her Jeep was splattered with mud but was warm and might help my clothes to dry, so I hung them over the edge in front of the radiator. Miss Julia was taking her time, rummaging through her camping gear that was stowed behind the driver's seat. That made me pretty nervous, but I couldn’t help getting aroused at the thought of being punished by her. When she finally came around to the front of her Jeep my cock was fully erect. Giving my penis a disapproving look, with a swipe of an arm she knocked my clothes from the hood of her Jeep onto the ground. Taking one step forward, her dirty boot pressing the pile of clothing into the oozing mud, she tossed a package at my feet.

"Pick it up," she ordered. I complied and examined the contents of the flimsy plastic grocery bag. What looked like a plain bologna sandwich on white bread, a small bottle of water, and an energy bar of some kind. There was also a folded piece of yellow paper on which I could see part of a trail map.

"My offer still stands," Miss Julia said in a challenging tone. "I'm going to give you the punishment you deserve. If at any time you feel you can't take it, then grab your clothes and hit the trail without looking back. Understood?"

"Yes, Miss Julia," I said obediently.

"Go cut me a switch," she said, handing me a small pocketknife and pointing towards the woods.

I was surprised by her instructions but walked carefully on my bare feet across the overgrown campsite. While I love the outdoors I am highly allergic to poison ivy and always keep a sharp lookout for it when I'm in the woods. Being naked in the woods, I was especially careful. I remember hearing somewhere that a common punishment for children in rural areas was to be sent by a parent to bring them a switch to whip them with. Allegedly going to get the switch was just as bad as the whipping. The stress of knowing the pain that was coming, and by willingly bringing the switch you would partially be responsible for that pain.

Staying at the edge of the tree line so as not to enter the thick scrub growth where I saw a lot of poison ivy, I cut a slim branch from a tree. The pocketknife she had given me looked very old. The bone inlay on the handle and metal casing showed signs of wear. The stubby blade was wider at the base from having been sharpened to a razor edge over what was probably many decades.

As I walked carefully back to Miss Julia, she was leaning against the broken picnic table. The plastic bag was on the ground by her muddy boots. The opened bottle of water was in one of her hands and she was taking another bite from the energy bar. She made a big production of inspecting the switch after I handed it to her. A three foot long slender branch with smooth bark. I'd already removed the leaves from it and used the knife to smooth out the nubs where the stems had connected. The switch made an intimidating sound as Miss Julia sliced it though the air several times.

"Well done," she said. To my surprise she commanded me to bring her a second switch. As I returned to the edge of the woods, looking for the same tree where I hand gotten that first switch, I could only assume that Miss Julia planned to break several across my backside. Picking my way carefully through the brush, there was the occasional high pitched whooshing sound as Miss Julia cut the air with the switch I had already brought her.

Having fantasized about female domination for many years, I was open to trying a lot of different things. However, one of the things I had always feared was receiving a caning. The pornography I had seen made it look like a brutal punishment. While I was cutting that second switch and heard Miss Julia either warming up or trying to intimidate me by whipping her switch through the air, I realized that a switch was nothing more than an improvised and disposable cane.

Still standing at the perimeter of the clearing while trimming leaves from the switch I had cut, Miss Julia paused to seductively place her lips on the mouth of the water bottle and take a long drink. If I decided to wimp out now I’d only have half a bottle of water to take on the trail along with the sandwich. My guess was that only a small portion of the energy bar was left.

When I presented Miss Julia with the second switch, she barely gave it a glance before setting both of them on the table, declaring she would save the best part for last. Then she started to unbuckle her heavily studded leather belt and ordered me to face the picnic table and hold on to it. I could hear the soft jingling of the buckle as she slowly removed her belt. Gripping the edge of the rotted wooden table, my bare feet sinking slightly in the cool mud, I braced myself for what I assumed would be a painful whipping.

Miss Julia's belt landed across both cheeks of my ass with a heavy thud. She had whipped my ass with a belt the first time we had met and I was surprised that after the first few blows I was handling it so well. Maybe I had built up a tolerance for pain, or perhaps she was taking it easy on me. Then she paused.

“When you were going out with Sandra, did she ever dominate you?” Miss Julia asked, to which my reply was negative. “If you were still going out with her, do you think you would have at least asked her to give you a spanking?” The question was punctuated by a heavy blow of her belt slapping across my ass. My grip tightened momentarily on the picnic table and I inhaled loudly through clenched teeth.

“I don’t know, Miss Julia,” I said at last.

“Wrong answer,” she replied as her belt landed squarely once again. “Answer yes, Miss Julia or no, Miss Julia!” I received another crack of the belt.

“No, Miss Julia,” I said quickly before she could whip me again. I heard the flat rubber soles of her boots squishing in the mud as she walked up and stood closely at my side.

“Why not?” she taunted. While I was relieved to see her putting her belt back on, I knew the switches would be next.

“I’d be afraid she would like it too much and want to do it all the time, Miss Julia,” I said, hoping that my reply wouldn’t come across as a wisecrack.

“I suppose that would be unfortunate,” Miss Julia said mockingly, picking up one of the switches and lightly tracing the tip across one of my shoulders and down the center of my back as she moved into position behind me.

The switch cut through the air with a hiss and stung my ass like a hot wire. I could still feel the burning sensation when the next searing blow landed. Gripping the table with white knuckles I stifled my reflex to cry out in pain. Miss Julia’s switch repeatedly sliced through the air and landed with hot burning precision across my butt cheeks. Through my tear blurred eyes I saw the plastic bag laying on the ground to one side, the water bottle having rolled out into a shallow mud puddle. All I would have to do was stoop down and pick it up and the punishment would be over, and I’d be free from Miss Julia forever. Then the whipping stopped.

I heard the faint rustle of her switch being tossed aside into the high weeds. Perhaps it had broken. My ass felt like it was on fire and I envisioned that it was striped with thin red horizontal cuts. If the skin was indeed broken and I was allergic to the plant I’d cut the switch from, there would be more suffering for days to come. Miss Julia walked up slowly beside me. Her breathing was deep and her footsteps in the mud all seemed to be paced to build the drama.

“Having fun, Eric?” she asked in a seductive tone, picking up the other switch and tapping it on the head of my penis. Despite the pain and stress of the punishment, my cock was erect and straining.

“No, Miss Julia,” I answered quietly.

“Well, you are being punished,” she said casually. “Its not supposed to be fun. Naughty boys like you that want to be dominated, they just want the game.” She walked slowly behind me, caressing my back with the tip of her switch. “They want to grovel at my feet and then be spanked or whipped, but only with enough pain to be real. Not so much pain that the fun is over too soon. I’m willing to do that any time, but when you displease me, you will be punished.”

Her switch sliced menacingly through the air and landed red hot across my ass. Then to my surprise she ordered me to walk back over to her Jeep. There, she opened the driver’s door and placed her switch on the floorboard in the rear. Was it a souvenir or for later use? That would probably depend on my behavior.

Miss Julia removed a first aid kit from the front seat where she evidently had it waiting. I stood wincing as she wiped some type of antiseptic onto my already burning backside.
“I take care of my property,” Miss Julia explained. “For the rest of the weekend, I own you,” she said firmly as if that point was not open for discussion. “Now go put on your clothes.”
A short time later we were back on the muddy trail, Miss Julia confident that the others hadn’t gotten too far.

“No doubt your friend Mike has gotten stuck a few times, slowing them down. He just isn’t as smart and clever as you are, Eric.” Miss Julia patted the edge of my seat. I had improvised a slip cover out of some garbage bags she had stowed with her camping gear in the back. My clothing was almost completely soaked with mud and while it was probably good that Miss Julia was impressed, my real goal had been to avoid getting the seat dirty and risk facing more punishment. My ass was still burning and the rough rutted trail made the bumpy ride even more painful.

We made surprisingly good time, though she had to drive cautiously through several areas. I wasn’t afraid of getting stuck in the mud. Miss Julia was a skilled driver, had an electric winch on the front bumper, and a few other tools to get us out of a jam. I was in good hands.

When we caught up with the group, as Miss Julia predicted, Mike was stuck. Somehow he had managed to slide sideways off the trail into a muddy ditch, putting a dent in a rear quarter panel as it pressed against a tree. Dave had his winch rigged though it looked as if they had been struggling for a while. The look on their faces as we pulled up was a mixture of relief, since we had arrived with a second winch, but also aggravation, in that we had lagged behind. I seriously doubted that anyone would chastise Miss Julia for our late arrival.

Once Mike’s truck was back on the trail we decided to make our way back to the paved road and head to the campground. Shortly after we got on the blacktop, clumps of mud thumping in the wheel wells as they were flung loose, Miss Julia pointed to a small gravel parking area on the side of the road. An SUV was parked there next to little pavilion with a stone fireplace.

“That’s where I would have picked you up if you hiked out,” Miss Julia told me. “That was very responsible of you to take your punishment and you handled it well.” I simply nodded in response.

The campground we pulled into was one that I recognized from the last trip. It was a small area that had been full at that time, forcing us to make camp at another location. There seemed to be only a few vacant sites now, so it was good that we arrived a bit early. Driving around the gravel loop of campsites, we pulled in at one that was large enough for all of us.

“Wait here,” Miss Julia ordered, and got out so she could speak with Dave and Sue. A few moments later she got back behind the wheel. Circling back through the small campground, she pulled the Jeep into a tight narrow campsite. “We’ll be staying here,” she explained. Handing me some cash from her purse that was stuffed into the center console, she told me to get us registered.

Walking towards the campground entrance, I could feel bits of dried mud falling off inside my clothing and it was getting itchy. Being a primitive camp, there were no showers here, but I wanted to find a water spigot soon in order to wash up and then change into some clean clothes. I also wanted to check the damage to my buttocks in a mirror but likely wouldn’t get that chance until I got home tomorrow morning.

The check-in station was an unmanned booth near the gate, where I filled out a registration card, tore off the perforated section, and deposited that with the money in an envelope, into a locked steel box. As I headed back, I stopped to talk with Mike, who was on his way to register the other campsite.

“Hey man, I’m sorry about leaving you back there at the gauntlet with Julia,” he said in a genuine apology. “She told Dave and I to take off, saying she had to teach you a lesson or something like that. He just went ahead and left, and me, well, she scares the shit out of me so I wasn’t going to argue with her.”

“Yeah,” was all I could think of to say.

“Either you two got stuck in the mud or she worked you over pretty good,” Mike said, gesturing at my muddy clothes. I didn’t feel like giving him any details, so I just told him that I would be getting my camping gear from the back of his truck and perhaps we would join them later for dinner.

When I arrived back at our site, Miss Julia already had her tent set up. A spacious dark green dome that could easily be set up single handed. I could tell she was pretending to adjust a rope on the rain fly, bent over to show off her ass.

“Set up your tent over there,” she commanded. “Now listen, Eric. I know I won’t be able to keep an eye on you the entire evening so let me make myself clear. Painful as your punishment was, I know that you also found it arousing. I don’t want you slipping off anytime to masturbate. I might want you later tonight and if so, I want you to be primed and ready. Do you understand?”

“Yes Miss Julia,” I responded.

As I set up my tent directly across from hers, I had to wonder about what she said. Was there a chance that I would finally get her in the sack, or was she just teasing me? There was no way to tell for certain. Miss Julia sat close by on the top of a picnic table, resting her muddy boots on the bench. I had an idea, and as I finished with my tent I offered to clean her boots. Miss Julia accepted, as I knew she would, and I hoped that by serving her I would be more likely to get some sexual relief later this evening.

The campground only had a few water faucets, and while the one we chose was farthest from our campsite, it was also the most private. The frost proof hydrant stood on top of a pipe coming up from the ground about waist high, and the surrounding area was paved in a circular pattern with flat slabs of limestone, with a drain near the center.

Miss Julia told me that she wanted to watch me wash up first. The clearing we were in was flanked by two campsites. One of them was vacant, while the other was occupied by a large silver Airstream trailer where an older man dozed in a chair under the roll-out awning. Since we were screened by trees and heavy brush, I thought nothing about stripping down to my boxer shorts.

The stones were cool and wet underfoot as if someone else had recently washed up here. I placed my dirty clothes next to a stack of clean ones on a nearby log. While I somewhat expected Miss Julia to knock my clothes on the ground, instead she stood close by me with her back to the road as if to give me more privacy. While I wanted to rinse my arms and legs under the faucet, the water felt too cold. Instead I lathered up some soap on a wet washcloth and scrubbed myself down. Miss Julia’s breathing deepened and when I caught her eye she was giving me a lustful stare. Building up extra lather on the cloth I made a show of slowly soaping up my chest and shoulders for her.

“You’re one sexy bitch, Eric,” she said in a low sultry voice.

Although the water was chilling my body I was starting to get aroused as well. I dropped my muddy underwear around my ankles, tried to twirl it on one foot, and then I kicked it towards Miss Julia. She stooped to catch it but missed as it landed in some bushes. We both laughed.

Despite the numbing effect of the water, my cock was solidly erect. I was careful as I soaped up my genitals, not wanting to get so aroused that I’d want to jerk off the first time I got the chance. I was hoping to get Miss Julia so aroused that she would want to take me soon, rather than wait until later tonight. For the last part I had no choice but to dunk my head under the faucet, rinsing the caked dried mud from my hair.

Before I had a chance to towel off and get dressed, Miss Julia stepped over to the hydrant, almost playfully splashing her muddy rubber boots on the wet stones. She tapped her foot several times under the dripping water and told me to get to work.

“Yes, Miss Julia,” I said obediently, kneeling on the wet stones and reaching up to turn on the water to a low stream.

While she always managed to stay amazingly clean during a day on the trail, Miss Julia’s legs had a few small streaks of mud on them. Most were by the top of her boots, but one was just under the hem of her tight cutoffs. My washcloth was still in hand and I dared offer to first clean the mud off her legs. She gripped the wet hair on the top of my head firmly, and held me for several long moments. I realized I might have made a mistake, speaking out of turn, or offering to touch her body.

“You can do that only if you use your tongue,” she said quietly.

For a brief moment I found that idea unappealing, but then I moved in, first slowly exhaling my warm breath on her leg before slowly licking at a little streak of mud. I felt the fine grit on my tongue but it seemed to melt in my mouth as there was nothing to swallow or spit out, and for that I was glad. Miss Julia still had one of her hands on my head, but now she was gently playing with my damp hair. She continued to do so even after I had to shift my position to get at a small patch of mud high on one thigh.

“I can feel some mud back here,” Miss Julia said, turning her back towards me and running a fingertip along the bottom hem of her Daisy Dukes, where a sliver of butt cheek was exposed. “It feels pretty dirty and might take you a while.”

Although her skin was clean, I took the hint and began to slowly kiss and lick around base of her shorts. The frayed denim was soft against the edge of my tongue, while her warm skin glided beneath the tip. Since the last time we were together Miss Julia had ordered me to worship her sexy ass, it wouldn’t have surprised me if she peeled off her tight cutoffs, grabbed a handful of my wet hair and jammed my nose between her butt cheeks.

Instead she turned around and quickly opened the water faucet. The blast of cold water splashed all over me, and I jumped back. Miss Julia held one of her dirty boots under the running water momentarily and then gave a few kicks in the air towards me, sprinkling me with light drops of mud. Shutting off the water, she pointed at her feet and ordered me to get to work.
I used my washcloth like a chamois, wiping down the smooth black rubber. The mud streaked, but once the cloth was rinsed I started to get better results. Hearing noise at the occupied campsite I glanced over through the brush.

An older lady was coming out of the trailer with some food to put on the grill. She said something to the man who had woken up, and they both laughed softly. He got up from his chair, took two beers from a cooler and popped the tops as he walked over towards his woman. I heard a sizzling as meat was put on the grill, and then as the man handed her one of the beers they clinked their bottles together, smiling before taking long sips. A seemingly happy couple, not old enough to be retired, but likely well set in life. The man started to stoke up their smoldering campfire and I turned my attention back to my task.

Miss Julia’s rubber riding boots were cleaning up nicely, but my damp naked body was getting cool and I wanted to finish the job soon and get some clothes on. Also, seeing the older couple, apparently content in what looked like a normal relationship, I had to wonder what sort of long term future I would have if Miss Julia and I were together.

She ordered me to put my clothes on. Perhaps she had seen me start to shiver, or it may have been because of the people next to us. I gladly pulled on a clean pair of jeans, sweatshirt, and wool socks, which I slipped into some dry hiking boots. Miss Julia approached the log where I was getting dressed and rested one foot on it.

“Lick my boot. Make sure it’s clean,” she said quietly. I had no choice but to get down on my knees. Thankfully the ground here was dry.

Her boots were still damp and cool on my tongue as I licked first one and then the other. Of course I knew they were clean. If I had left any speck of mud on them I would have risked more punishment. Miss Julia told me I was rushing the job and told me to slow down and savor her boots.

Truthfully, I had been rushing a bit. Before meeting her, I had always fantasized about licking the high heeled leather boots of a dominatrix. Perhaps it was ironic that I had found a real dominant woman, and the pair of boots I usually licked was made of rubber and had flat heels. A pair that had obviously been worn a lot as they were practical for getting out in the mud.
We joined the others a short time later at their campsite. While I had brought a small amount of food, Dave and Sue had prepared a large supper for all of us. Burgers that had been grilled over an open fire, beans, and some potato salad. There was some type of cobbler baking off to one side in a Dutch oven, reminding me of my younger days with the Scouts. After the long day it was a great feast.

Later as the sun began to set, Dave excused himself. There was a small pond adjacent to the campground and he was going to do some night fishing. The rest of us sat around the campfire drinking some beers. Sue and Miss Julia chatted mostly among themselves. After a few beers Mike became obsessed with the damage that had been done to his truck. He was thinking of filing a claim with his insurance company, saying it was a hit and run in a parking lot while he was in a store. He wanted to know if I had any ideas on repairing the body cheaply so that he could pocket most of the insurance money.

I’m not a heavy drinker, but tonight I drank less than I normally would. Miss Julia slowly nursed her beer. Not sure what she might want later on, I thought it best not to get drunk. It still seemed a bit early when Miss Julia announced that she and I would be heading back to our campsite. Taking my cue I said goodnight to Sue and Mike, and Miss Julia and I walked hand in hand through the dark campground.

We didn’t say a word to each other, and while I had a small flashlight in my pocket, I didn’t take it out. The moon and stars in the sky above were bright enough to see the gravel road, which crunched under our feet. I was starting to get hard as we approached our campsite. When we stopped outside of Miss Julia’s tent she embraced me tightly. We kissed deeply and she boldly reached her hand between our bodies and began to rub my erection through my jeans. I was surprised when she stopped and broke away from me.

“Goodnight, Eric,” Miss Julia said. “Don’t forget, you’re not allowed to masturbate. Perhaps I’ll join you later tonight.”

With that she stooped to unzip her tent. Even after she was inside I stood for a few moments in the darkness, painfully hard and frustrated. A short while later I climbed naked into my sleeping bag. The cool nylon was smooth and soothing on my still hard cock, and I was tempted to play with myself. I assumed that I wouldn’t see Miss Julia until the morning. She was probably aroused as well, perhaps naked in her own sleeping bag, lightly fondling herself in the darkness. Since Miss Julia made the rules, she could masturbate any time she wished. I thought of slipping a dirty sock over my penis and stroking myself until I filled it with cum, but just in case Miss Julia wasn’t teasing me, I lay on my back, hands at my sides, and tried to wait patiently.

Maybe only a few minutes passed, or it could have been a few hours, but I must have dozed off and was suddenly waken by the sound of my tent flaps being unzipped. The moon shone brightly through the thin nylon roof and Miss Julia was clearly visible as she crawled into the confines of my small backpacking tent. She was wearing a long t-shirt that came down below her waist and some soft leather moccasins.

I reached to unzip my sleeping bag but she stopped me. Miss Julia climbed on top of me and without a word began to kiss me, her tongue darting deeply into my mouth. Her body pressing down on top of mine, I could feel a slow subtle grinding of her hips against my groin. My cock was throbbing hard in no time, the heavily insulated sleeping bag an impenetrable barrier between our bodies.

I wanted to embrace her and caress her body, maybe finally get my hands on her breasts, but Miss Julia’s position on top of me had my arms trapped inside my sleeping bag. She then began to kiss and lightly nibble at the base of my neck, and as she did so, she reached down between us and grabbed hold of my cock. Roughly fondling me through the sleeping bag, Miss Julia said that she was glad I had obeyed her and not masturbated.

“For that you get a reward,” she said.

Before I could even contemplate what I might have earned, Miss Julia got up on her knees, turned around, and started to lower herself onto my face. Hiking up her long t-shirt, for a split second I could see that she wasn’t wearing any panties, and then she lightly pressed her thick patch of dark pubic hair against my lips. She was already moist with arousal, and musky with sweat from a day of driving on the trails. I treated her to long, slow licks of my tongue, with periodic darting probes for her clit. Miss Julia responded quickly, rocking her hips, I assumed to get the best angle of penetration for my tongue. My nose was occasionally mashed between her butt cheeks, making it hard for me to breathe.

As Miss Julia began to move in a more steady rhythm, I felt her stroking my erection through my sleeping bag. I was so turned on and still sexually frustrated from earlier in the evening, and knew if she didn’t stop playing with my cock soon I would explode. It was then that I realized this wasn’t foreplay. She was steadily riding my face towards a powerful orgasm. There was no way that she was going to stop to free me from my sleeping bag so that I might hump her for a few moments before erupting, and I did indeed erupt.

My heavy moaning was muffled as Miss Julia ground herself against my mouth with several spasms signaling her orgasm. I could feel the expanding pool of cum spreading on my stomach as I spurted one blast after another inside my sleeping bag. Then she raised herself slightly. Both of us breathing heavily, I gave a few gentle, teasing licks, giving Miss Julia several light aftershocks. She slowly stroked my now softening penis through the sleeping bag, milking the last drops. Her final gesture was to firmly rub a hand all over my crotch and stomach, effectively spreading the mess all over me and soaking that portion of the sleeping bag with my own cum.

“Goodnight, Eric,” was all she said, and without a kiss or even looking back over her shoulder, she slipped out through the tent flaps.

I found my damp towel in the pile of dirty clothes by my side. Unzipping my sleeping bag almost all the way I tried to clean myself and the inside of the bag as well as I could. Later as I lay back down I could still feel the sticky dampness, but after having such a powerful orgasm, I quickly fell asleep.

Early the next morning I woke up just as sunlight was beginning to filter in through my tent. Though I lay comfortably in my sleeping bag and the campground was silent, I could not fall back to sleep. After quietly rummaging through my gear, I soon had a small percolator brewing fresh coffee on a little backpacking stove set up on the picnic table.

Returning to our campsite after a quick trip to the restroom, I saw that Miss Julia was up now. She was dressed in some tight black nylon runner’s shorts, a heavily worn denim jacket pulled over a white top of some kind, and her usual riding boots. Her hair was pulled back in a thick dark ponytail and she sat at the table with an empty coffee mug, knowing that I wouldn’t dare refuse to offer her some.

“You think of everything,” she said, nodding towards the coffee pot as I approached.

“Well, maybe not everything,” I said, accepting the compliment. “I drink it black. If you want cream and sugar I can go see if Sue and Dave brought any. That is if they are awake yet.”
Miss Julia was willing to drink her coffee straight from the pot and we sat right next to each other, our bodies lightly touching. We barely sipped from our mugs as the brew was still too hot to drink. The morning was cool, which made the hot coffee and body contact that much better.

She broke the long but comfortable silence to inform me that she would be giving me a ride home, so that when we broke camp I was to load my gear in the back of her Jeep. There was no time to refuse because then Miss Julia ordered me to go to the other campsite and see if the others were awake and starting a breakfast.

It turned out that Sue was cooking a communal breakfast. A large cast iron griddle had been placed over the fire and what looked like a whole package of bacon was sizzling on it. An open carton of eggs lay off to one side, ready to be cracked open and fried in the grease.

Mike looked hung over as if he had sat up drinking beer by the campfire long after Miss Julia and I had left. Dave had incredibly good luck catching some crappie last night, some of which were packed in a cooler.

Not long after breakfast, Miss Julia and I broke camp and were on the road. Her play tires were noisy on the highway and seemed a little squirrely, though it looked like she had good control even when driving a bit over the speed limit. She asked if I had plans for later today, but I told her it would just be my normal weekend routine of doing laundry and grocery shopping. I added that I was also looking forward to taking a hot shower.

“I imagine you do,” Miss Julia said, reaching over and briefly rubbing my crotch and inner thigh.

Then she went on to tell me about her job and how a new rolling mill was going to be installed soon. Evidently she had turned away a lot of potential customers since her employer’s shop wasn’t set up to roll form sheet metal. She’d been working hard to sell the idea to her bosses as installing the equipment would not be cheap, but she figured it would pay for itself in a few years. Miss Julia was also imagining the extra sales commissions she would earn.

I told her a little bit about a liquid nitrogen distribution system I was designing. It was for chilling high tolerance machine parts down to cryogenic temperatures so they could be fit together. Miss Julia was probably the only woman I’ve ever met who would find that interesting.

Our conversation was easy, as if we hadn’t spent any time apart, but I could not forget that we had, and why. Hot as she was, and regardless of how well we normally got along, I wasn’t willing to be in a relationship with her, knowing that I would be punished whenever she felt it necessary. I was anxious to be dropped off at my apartment complex and would probably avoid any future four-wheeling trips with Mike.

Miss Julia told me about a festival that was coming up soon. Some event held out in the country where a bunch of old farm machinery would be on display. Antique one-lunger gas engines, and even a steam powered tractor hooked up to a portable sawmill. There was also live music and a bonfire after dark, with plenty of hard apple cider and homemade wine available. We could even camp out overnight there. The scene as she described it actually sounded pretty cool. However, if Miss Julia was planning our next date, I would have to decline.
When we were getting close to the city, I was surprised when she turned off on a county road. It didn’t take long for me to realize that she was taking me to the farm where she lived.

“I thought you were taking me home,” I said as casually as possible.

“I will,” she answered coolly. “Just not now. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have plenty of time to do your shopping and laundry.” It was then that I realized I’d made a mistake earlier, telling Miss Julia that I didn’t have any real plans for later today.

We pulled in the main gate and followed the long driveway towards the large house. When she was a child, Miss Julia had been in and out of foster care, and at one time had lived on this farm. Circling around the house, I could see Miss Julia’s dumpy little shack of a cottage in the distance, but she pulled off to one side towards a cluster of buildings. She stopped in front of a small open front shed, shut off the engine, and told me to get out.

Just down the road was a large metal building and through the open bay doors I could see a hydraulic lift, other machinery, and numerous gleaming red tool boxes. The farm’s repair shop.
The place Miss Julia had parked in front of was a contrast. A rough wooden framed structure covered with dull corrugated tin, which leaned slightly to one side but would probably stand for another decade or more.

Inside, a battered old tool box and a clutter of tools were sprawled out on top of a wooden wire spool that evidently served as a workbench. Four radial tires mounted on aluminum rims, were leaning against the wall. In the back of the shed among other clutter, on a low stand knocked together out of scrap wood padded with carpet remnants, was a black fiberglass hardtop for her Jeep. This was clearly Miss Julia’s shop.

“Take that hose over there, it will reach that hydrant, and rinse the mud off my Jeep,” Miss Julia ordered. She pointed with the switch that she had removed from behind the driver’s seat, at an old garden hose hanging in her shop and a distant water faucet. “It doesn’t have to be perfectly clean, but I want you to be sure to get the underside and inside the wheel wells. Come over to my cottage when you are done.”

As she started to walk away I realized that if I was going to confront her, this was the time to do it.

“Julia. Wait,” I called. She stopped in her tracks and turned to face me.

“That’s Miss Julia to you,” she said in a stern tone.

“Julia,” I said. ”I can’t be in a relationship with you. You’re beautiful and I love being dominated by you, but I only want that as a fantasy. For you, it’s a way of life. I’ve given this a lot of thought and I just can’t handle it. Please, just take me home.”

Her face drew up in a scowl. She placed one hand on her hip, breasts thrust out in her low cut white tank top, and threateningly pointed the switch at me.

“Don’t speak to me as if you have a choice, Eric,” she said bluntly. “I want you, and I take what I want.”

With that she spun around and started to walk off towards her cottage in a slow confident strut, the sunlight making her black rubber boots and tight black nylon shorts gleam with a low shine. Watching her walk into the distance, I knew there would be no arguing with Miss Julia. She takes what she wants. Having no other choice, I walked into her shop to fetch the hose.

The End

A note from the author:
I just want to say a quick thanks to readers of this series that have sent feedback, positive and otherwise. I probably would have moved on to something new after just a few Eric and Miss Julia stories had they not picked up such a good following. Stay out of trouble, and always be careful what you wish for.
This story is written by Christopher D.B, please send comments and appreciation to christopherdb113@gmail.com