Try as he might, Jules can't help but tire as she forces him to crawl along like a dog on a leash.  A smack of the whip, a tug on the leash,and he hurries his movements, at least, for a while, before it all starts again.  It does not help when she starts to ride him.  Not soon enough, she gets off of him, smacking him again and again<br/><br/>Jules struggles to move, but it is getting harder and harder to put one hand in front of the other, one knee in front of the other.  He is so glad when she lets him stop on that bed of moss.  So glad that he doesn't have to crawl anymore, he doesn't care when she secures his hands behind his back.  So tired, so sore as he rests there against her.<br/><br/>Jules eats the berry, ravenously hungry, barely noticing it as he wolfs it down.  Then second, he chews a bit before swallowing, it was like nothing he had ever had before.  He just rests there, against her as she teases his sac and balls.  To tired and sore to much note what she is doing.  He turns, his lips going to the offered nipple, sucking and licking on it.  He then lays back, his eyes closing, and almost instantly, he is asleep.<br/><br/>Jules dreams, if that is what you would call it, of her, and being made to crawl thru the endless forest.  He is being smacked for stopping, her on his back, when he wakes up.  The canopy above him looks wrong.  He blinks, wondering where he is.  Struggling to sit up, he settles with lifting his head, blinking at seeing that he is not out in the forest, but on a bed.  Bed or not, his hands are still held securely behind his back.  And she is there, next to him.  "Where... where are we?" he asks, trying to figure it out, where they are, how they got there.