Twenty Tones of Red

by Pauline Montford

  She expected him to tell her to stop after a few laps but he didn’t. He kept her moving backwards and forwards at a steady pace and when she showed the very first signs of slowing she discovered what he was holding across his lap. There was a sharp crack and a flick of pain moved across her buttocks as if she’d been stung. She forced her legs to move faster, now aware that he was holding a thin riding whip with a very long reach. He seemed able to place precise stinging marks on her backside from as much as ten or fifteen feet away and the threat of it was very real.

  He used the occasional flick of the crop to increase her pace and soon she was warm and panting for breath. It was much harder work than she’d first imagined and with each lap he increased his demands on her. He forced her to lift her knees higher and hold her back straight whilst at the same time landing more lightly on her tiptoes. It became more and more difficult to move her legs as high and as fast as she needed and her temperature seemed to go up and up. Soon there were prickles of heat all over her body and then before she knew it sweat was dripping from all her pores. She felt trickles running from under her arms and down her sides and bubbles of perspiration sticking strands of hair to her forehead. Her lungs started to feel raw with the exertion and for the first time she thought that she might have to stop or complain. The idea was terrifying. To do either would mean breaking the scene and that would effectively end the terms of her stay with him and disgrace David as a master. In the meantime, there was just obedience. That was the way the scene worked. You played the game or you left the game, there was nothing in between. No whingeing, no complaining and no changing the rules.

  Things got tougher. At the point she was really struggling with the physical demands he introduced even more rules. He commanded her to snort and whinny and shake her head like a horse or she would receive a beating. In her heart she knew he was going to ask her to do that. It was a standard part of any animal play that at some point the beast had to start making noises. It was of course designed to humiliate. There was nothing quite so embarrassing as being forced to move and make the noises of a domestic pet and he knew it. For the last nine or ten lengths of the room she was tossing her head and making the most realistic horse noises she could. It was extremely difficult as it required more lung work and control of her breathing at a time she was finding her aerobic capacity severely challenged.

  “Stop.” It was a simple command and she was relieved to hear it. She stood in front of him with her head bowed and her naked body covered in a sheen of perspiration. She was positively glowing and every inch of her bare skin was blushing or pulsing with radiating heat. He stood and clipped a chain to her collar then led her down through the kitchen and out into a hallway. She was led to a plain wooden door and pushed into a small dusty-smelling room. “That was good work horsey.” He said with some amusement in his voice, “Now stay in here and stretch. You must know some yoga or pilates or something. Do all the moves you can think of and keep doing them until I come back for you.” With that he was gone. The door was closed and she heard a key turn in the lock.

  Left alone for the first time she looked around and took stock of her surroundings. She was in a small boiler cupboard no more than seven feet square. Apart from a large water tank and a few dusty wooden shelves, the room was mostly empty. He had prepared it for her though because there was a set of interlocking foam squares on the floor. It was hot and as she sat herself on the padded mats she realised how well thought-out his plan was. After the journey she’d been exercised and now she was being given time to stretch out all her muscles. She was being treated as some kind of valuable pedigree animal and she had to admit that it was an erotic concept.

  She needed no more encouragement and began to put herself through a series of very deliberate exercises; working her calves, thighs, back and shoulders in a series of long stretches. She had stopped sweating and the moisture had dried on her skin. Her main preoccupation was how she might look and smell. There was no mirror in the room and nothing she could do about her appearance or the aroma of her body. This of course was how it was meant to be. She was not in control of herself. She was an object and that was just something she had to get used to.

  She’d finished a series of stretches for her whole body and was repeating some of the more relaxing positions when the key turned in the lock and he returned to her. Without a word he bent and took hold of her chain then pulled her into the kitchen and pointed to a number of items on the worktop.

  “First put on the apron. Then put the shackles on your legs. After that you’re free to visit the bathroom which is next to the boiler room. Then prepare my dinner. It’s scrambled eggs and smoked salmon. You will serve it in ten minutes time. My portion will be on a plate on the table. But you will put yours in a bowl on the floor then kneel and await my command.” With that he was gone. He took a second to unclip the chain from her collar then walked back into the lounge area and she heard the creak of the sofa and the rustle of a newspaper being unfolded.

  She studied the items that had been laid out on the counter in front of her. Apart from a box of eggs and the usual range of cooking utensils there was a frilly white apron and a set of steel ankle cuffs. She pulled the apron over her head and tied it at the waist. It was deliberately frilly and provocative, designed as much to make her feel like a sex object as to protect her from cooking splashes. The top half just covered her naked breasts, whereas the bottom section only came to the very top of her thighs. The overall effect was to make her feel more naked than naked.

  Having put on her one garment of clothing she bent and attached the restraints to her ankles. It was a short length of chain with a handcuff on either and once the ratchets had locked in place she knew she wouldn’t be able to free her legs without the key. She spent a little time checking that she had all the cooking materials she needed then decided to take a trip to the bathroom.

  Her steps were short and shuffling but moving as quickly as she could she made her way to the washroom and discovered a small and basic downstairs toilet with a single basin and a small bar of soap. There was no mirror and she was unable to check her appearance. She briefly considered trying to wash but it was obvious that this was not part of his intention. She had not been given the time to bathe or the proper facilities to do so.

  With the short chain rattling and scraping on the floor she shuffled back to the kitchen and set about preparing the dinner. Keeping a mental countdown of the passing time she laid out the fish then started to stir the eggs in the saucepan. When she felt the full ten minutes had elapsed she spooned out the hot milky mixture and took the plate and bowl to the table. “Your dinner is ready master.” Once she’d called him she lowered herself onto the floor and got into the basic slave position; head bowed with her palms facing upwards on her thighs.

  He came to the table and sat without speaking. She heard him eat a few mouthfuls then he paused and took the bowl that contained her food and put it on the floor in front of her. Seeing the delicious meal made her immediately aware of her desire to eat. It had been a long time since her last meal and the vigorous horse training had triggered a very real hunger. The bowl was there as a test though. He hadn’t told her to eat and so she wasn’t to eat. She was to sit motionless and wait for his next command. She’d made one little mistake when entering the house but from now on she’d be the perfect slave. She knew exactly what was expected of her and wouldn’t be caught out by any simple tricks.

  When he’d finished he complimented her on the quality of her scrambled eggs then went back to the sofa. She said nothing. She was merely an object; a semi-naked kneeling slave looking at the bowl of food that was going cold in front of her. He sat and flicked through the newspaper for quite some time before he gave her his next command. “You may eat now slave. But only with your mouth. Please put your arms behind your back.”

  A shiver of excitement rose through her. For a little while her body seemed to have gone to sleep but now she was reminded of her nakedness
. She remembered the red stripes on her backside from the whip and felt her nipples stiffen and a familiar pulsing heat return to her crotch. With her arms held firmly behind her back she bent forward and started to eat. Almost immediately her long red hair fell into her food but she knew without having to ask that she had to ignore this.

  She consumed the meal as well as she could, using her tongue to flick away the pieces that had got caught in her hair and only when she’d licked the bowl clean did she sit up again. There were smears of egg around her mouth and stuck to her freshly-washed hair but there was nothing she could do about it. She suspected that this was part of his plan. The tiny details that made a person human were being stripped away from her and it was intensely arousing.

  His next order was to tell her to clear the table and do the washing up. She did so as quickly and efficiently as she could, all the time thinking about the many millions of women across the country that were carrying out the same after dinner chores. Their circumstances couldn’t have been more different. She suspected that she was the only one naked and chained in a stranger’s house and the thought made her smile. Put in those words it sounded very much as if she was some kind of victim but in fact it had taken her many years of self realisation to get herself to where she was.

  When she was just drying the last pan he came up behind her and took it from her hands. Without speaking he tidied her hair into a single braid and clenched it in his fist. There were small prickles of pain as some of the hairs pulled tight on her scalp and then he was firmly pushing her forward through the house. Without being told she put her hands behind her back and shuffled as fast as she could on in her hobble chain. He wasn’t cruel with her, he didn’t pull or tug, he just held her head very firmly in a way that she felt was impressively commanding and in control. They passed the staircase then several other doors on the ground floor before he opened one and took her inside.

  It was a games room; a large carpeted space dominated by a full-sized snooker table that sat under a single long light. There were leather armchairs in each of the corners with small coffee tables next to them. A faint trace of cigar smoke suggested that the place was used for late night entertainment.

  He moved to the edge of the big table then bent her over it and made her spread her legs. Her head was on one side, her line of sight looking across the green velvet baize straight at the cushioned edge of the big table. There was a jangle that she immediately recognised as a belt buckle being undone and her heart leapt into her mouth. Did this mean that he was going to beat her with it? Such an implement could produce incredibly intense pain and she was suddenly afraid that she might not be able to take it. What if he was a genuine sadist? What if he was now going to break her skin and try to beat her senseless?

  The first blow was reassuring. It was a reasonably gentle slap that left no more than a tingle on her exposed buttocks. Things soon changed though. He started to increase the pace and weight of the beating and after just a few minutes there was a real fire burning across her bum. Keeping the strength of the blows about consistent he increased the frequency and her panting changed to moaning. Despite her best intentions she found herself letting out little gasps with each blow. The pain and humiliation triggered many other reactions. She became aware of her whole body as if it were one single taut piece of tingling skin. Warm sensations spread through her breasts and the same intensity of heat that was burning on her backside was now alight in her crotch. Her slit was dripping wet with excitement and she started to hope that her master would forget the terms of her visit and thrust himself inside her.

  It was not to be. He stopped and caught his breath and then his hand went to her hair and pulled her up again. He used his grip on her head to move it around the room and point out several features. He showed her a leather holdall on one of the tables and explained what she would find inside. There was a range of lingerie and some blankets and some shoes. She was to choose a top and a pair of panties to wear then position the blankets under the table and curl up and go to sleep. There was a toilet and basin in a small room at the back that she could use to brush her teeth but it seemed there wasn’t anywhere to wash. It was clear he was about to leave her to spend the night there, but he had one more order to give. “When you wake put on the shoes then wait bent over the table. I must find you in that position when I unlock the door.”

  It was an incredibly cruel demand. She had no way of knowing the time or guessing when she might get up. This meant that as soon as she was conscious in the morning she would be waiting for him. If he was a late riser she could easily be bent over the table in nervous expectation for hours.

  He left her to look through the bag and she was just slipping into a black silk teddy when he returned. He was holding her small clutch bag of toiletries and a glass of water. After placing them on the floor he switched out the main light then closed the door and locked it. There was no final parting or ‘good night’. Her service had ended for the day and she was not required until the morning.

  Left Alone

  She was aware that she had not fully completed his instructions so before doing anything else she looked back into the bag at the range of underwear he had left for her. He had distinctly said that she was to put on a pair of knickers as well as one of the tops. Her ankles were still shackled together however and this meant that there was no way she would be able to pull anything up her legs. The problem vexed her as Masters didn’t like to have flaws with their planning pointed out to them and if there were problems with a scene it was always the slaves who took the punishment.

  She was very impressed to discover that panties in the bag tied at the side with a bow. She chose a black pair that matched her teddy top and slipped them on and fastened the pink ribbon very neatly on either side. Also in the bag was a pair of black patent leather stilettos with three inch heels and she took them out and put them on the floor near the end of the table for the morning.

  Next she pulled out the blankets and was pleased to discover that there were three of them and they were thick and soft. As she laid one on the floor she discovered that it was warm. It seemed that the whole building had under-floor heating which meant that his command was not as severe as it had first seemed. With the thickness of the carpet and the rugs she had been given she would be sleeping in relative warmth and softness even though she was on the floor.

  She found the small toilet room and after a quick pee, cleansed her face and brushed her teeth. There was no way for her to wash properly and no mirrors so she rubbed her body as much as she could with hot water and used the small hand towel to dry herself. He had probably kept her from a shower or bath deliberately to remind her of her place and she had no doubt that he’d be making her sweat again the following day.

  Sitting alone in the faint light of a couple of table lamps she took a little time to take stock of her surroundings and run over the evening’s events. Only now that she was alone in the calm and peace of the big dimly-lit room did she start to process what had happened to her. The first thing that she realised was that she had hardly seen her new master at all. The tradition of keeping her eyes lowered meant that she had only caught the tiniest of glimpses of him. She was aware that he was smartly dressed in grey woollen trousers and an expensive looking black cotton shirt, but other than that she had very little impression of him. She’d seen plenty of photos and videos on the net and she replayed those in her head to remind herself of his classic good looks and dark brooding eyes.

  After lying back and snuggling under the blankets she started to run over the various things she’d been put through that day. She had been spanked first by David and then led handcuffed out into the car. She had been driven by a stranger whilst her tiny dress had ridden up and her pussy had been exposed to him. Even more exciting was the memory of being released and made to hold her intimate lips open for the remainder of the journey. The tingling and throbbing returned to her crotch while she re-ran the scene and before she knew it she discovere
d that her hand had slipped inside her new knickers and was beginning to gently rub at her clit.

  She forced herself to recall all of the evening’s kinky events; remembering what it had been like to strip in front of him and then prance up and down like a horse while he flicked a whip at her. She still had a vague sensation of stickiness around her mouth from eating like an animal and this only turned her on even more. She was rubbing herself vigorously and her heart was thumping hard in her chest. She had to stop. It was strictly against all the rules for a slave to ever pleasure themselves. Only their masters were allowed to give them an orgasm and on the first night with her new owner it would be extremely bad form to indulge in self pleasure. Her hand wouldn’t stop though. Her pussy was desperate for attention and her fingers kept rubbing faster and faster. She felt the skin on her buttocks burning from the beating he had given her with his belt and felt her orgasm rise. She wanted to stop touching herself but her body seemed to be out of her control. Her mind raced ahead to what would happen the next day. She saw an image of him finding her bent over the table in the high heels and frilly knickers and the anticipation of what he would do in a full day alone pushed her over the edge. With her breath loud in her ears and blood pumping throughout her body her orgasm began its inevitable blossoming from somewhere deep inside her. She was shameless and out of control and she couldn’t prevent her body from celebrating the fact. Desperately fearful that he would hear she stuffed her free hand into her mouth then came in a series of violent shudders and groans. Oh god it was fantastic. It was so good to feel the warm release moving through her whole body.