Twenty Tones of Red

by Pauline Montford

  At the end of the building the vista opened out and they paused in the full sunlight. The wind was a little stronger away from the shelter of the house and she felt the air moving all over her naked body. He stood enjoying the view and while she waited she considered her position. Her only clothing was her collar and the tattered remains of the black silk teddy she had put on the night before. It was now hanging loose around her neck and both her tender breasts were exposed. Below that there was the thick leather belt that was circling her waist like an extreme corset. Further down there was nothing. Her pussy was fully exposed to the elements and her long legs were bare until they reached her ankle cuffs and the stiletto shoes. Her hair was dirty and plastered to her face in a number of places. Breathing was only possible through her nose as her own soiled underwear was taped firmly in her mouth. They were standing on the edge of miles of open fields and although she was fairly certain there were no other people around there was something about being so helpless and exposed in such a wide open space that was new and intriguing.

  She felt a gentle pressure between her shoulder blades and was moved forward. What followed was a slow tour of the property and surrounding out-buildings. He changed her conditions of slavery so that she was allowed to look normally and follow his pointing hand as he led her gaze in different directions. In calm and surprisingly relaxed tones they moved from barn to barn and he pointed out some of the historical features and old agricultural tools. She couldn’t reply and was not required to. She was the most helpless a visitor could be; shuffling in small steps and sometimes relying on his strong arms for balance as she moved across the uneven ground.

  They came to the largest of the big stone buildings and he led her into the darkness inside. There was a powerful smell of damp soil and straw and the air was musty and dust-specked. High in the eves she could see a series of tiny ventilation slits where chicken wire had been stuffed to keep out invading birds and owls. The rafters were dotted with cobwebs and around the walls was an array of bicycles and pieces of rusting machinery.

  After taking her further inside he made her stand and look at an ancient horsebox in the back corner. He took her over to it and opened the door. It was dry and rusty but there was fresh straw on the floor and it smelt clean. He gave her buttocks a sharp smack then revealed why he was showing it to her. “This is where bad slaves go to be punished and if they’re really bad they spend the night here chained and muzzled like an animal.”

  The idea was both thrilling and daunting. Part of her had always wanted to be treated like an animal, even to the extent of being chained and caged, but she knew that in reality any time spent in the box would be uncomfortable and possibly very cold. She hoped that he was just trying to threaten her into good behaviour. Some doms made outrageous threats very early in the relationship to ensure that their slaves were obedient. She didn’t know. Part of what was so exciting about her visit was that this man was unknown to her and although there were many safe boundaries she was effectively helpless and subject to his every whim.

  After showing her the horsebox he took her to the far end of the barn where the floor was more even and covered with a layer of clean dry straw. Leaving her standing alone he went to the wall and un-hooked a long coil of rope. He came back to her and passed the rope between her open legs then took it to the far wall where he tied it through a ring in the brickwork. When she saw the regular spaced knots in the long length of cord she realised what he was doing. It was a crotch rope, a device used to maintain a tormenting pressure between a woman’s legs. Sure enough as he tightened it the length of hemp rose until it was pulled tight into the lips of her pussy. When he’d tied it off he gave her the command to stay totally still then turned and left the barn.

  She waited with her heart pumping hard in her chest. With a little experimentation she found that by moving her weight from side to side or wriggling she could change the pressure of the rope on her most intimate places. To her shame she was already dripping wet and her own juices starting to soak into the cord that was splitting her open.

  When he returned he was carrying an elegant green bottle that she discovered contained olive oil. With an amused smile he poured the liquid generously over the full length of the line, paying particular attention to each of the large knots.

  When he’d finished he pointed out two small garden tables that were pressed against the walls at either end of the rope. One of them contained a pile of horseshoes but the other was empty. Like all his work the scene was very well prepared and he came back to her side to explain the rules. “The other day I realised that I didn’t really want those shoes over there. I thought it might be luckier to have them on the other side of the barn. Perhaps you would move them for me. I’ll give you half an hour and then come back. If you’ve dropped any then I’m afraid you will have to be severely punished. Good luck.” With that he turned on his heels and walked briskly out into the sunshine, leaving her alone and totally trapped.

  Knowing that time was short she immediately started shuffling backwards to the table behind her. The ground under the straw was soft and her heels sunk into the earth. Even worse, the hobble chain on her ankles kept her movements limited and continually threatened to knock her off balance. Each knot slid between her legs with an excruciating mixture of pain and pleasure but with snorting breath and real determination she worked her way towards the table.

  As she neared the wall the rope got higher and she had to push herself up onto her toes to prevent the oily knots from cutting too deep between her delicate lips. She got to the table and reached out tentatively for one of the curves of metal. Her fingers found one, she grasped it firmly in each hand and then set off again.

  Moving forward was slightly easier and this meant she made quicker progress. But walking faster meant that the knots slipped more quickly between her legs. The motion pushed the ridges of hemp a little higher and each bump rubbed across her clit with powerful results. She found herself breathing heavily and then snorting through her nose as she passed each one. The feeling of being pulled open was unpleasant, but was also a massive turn on. Blood was pumping into her loins and she was tingling with desire. She knew that with each step she was leaving her own gushing wetness on the cord and as her excitement built so did the demands on her breathing. She found herself sucking in air through her gagged mouth as well as in her nose and this sent the pheromone aroma of her own pee and juices deep into her senses.

  At the far end she faced the most difficult part of the exercise. She had to turn sharply to get her hands to the table behind her. The rope was incredibly tight between her legs but she eventually found the metal surface and slid the horse shoe onto it. She moved away with relief and started backing up along the long greasy rope. As she tottered along she made a mental count. There must have been at least ten or twelve shoes on the table and she’d only transferred the first one. It was definitely going to be a difficult half hour.

  She did it. When he came back to her she had just put the last shoe on the far table and had tottered back to the middle of the rope where it was at its lowest. She felt as if she was on fire. The high heels and hobble chain had made sure that every muscle in her body had been working hard to keep her upright and balanced but added to the exertion on her limbs was the hot throbbing between her legs. Every part of her pussy had been brought to life. Blood was pulsing in every intimate folds of her flesh and her clit was swollen and desperate. She knew that with the right pressure in the right places she was only seconds from orgasm and her chest was heaving with the excitement of her predicament.

  She was to get no release. After inspecting her work he gave her a few brief words of congratulation then untied the rope and led her out into the bright summer sun. He moved her silently across the gravel driveway, back through the house and into the immaculately kept kitchen garden.

  The shape of the house behind them shielded them from the breeze and acted as a kind of sun trap. The garden was several degrees warmer
than the surrounding countryside and she immediately felt the heat on her bare skin.

  He knelt her against the wall then lifted a thick chain from a ring in the wall and padlocked it to her collar. Next he pulled out a small pocketknife and very carefully uncut the tape that was holding her underwear so firmly in her mouth. She knew there would be no easy way of pulling the tape from the skin cheeks and he chose the fast method. In one hard yank the tape came free and then he unpeeled it from the back of her head. Fingers reached into her mouth and he pulled out her panties and let them drop onto the floor next to her. The relief was tremendous and it was wonderful to be able to breathe and swallow so easily.

  While still at her side he used the knife to cut free the remains of her silk teddy and for the first time since the previous night she was truly completely naked. With some gentle taps of his palm he urged her legs even further apart then a push on the back of her head reminded her to lower her gaze. The brief permission she’d had to look around her was over and she’d returned to the status of total slave; kneeling naked, silent and chained.

  He moved to a nearby chair and started to eat. From the sounds of the crunching he had prepared a large salad and she listened enviously as he consumed the crunchy vegetables. The sunlight got stronger and as the heat started to radiate from the wall her temperature began to rise. She could now smell her own body. There was still a layer of sweat from the horse trotting the previous evening and a faint musk rising from her crotch; an undeniable admittance that she had been wet and aroused for most of the day. After some time he obviously smelt her too and lent forward and sniffed the air near her. “That’s really quite wonderful slave.” He pronounced in soft admiring tones. “You now smell real and alive to me. There’s really no point in having a woman in the house if you can’t smell her.”

  She was not required to respond and spent some time analysing his sentiments. Why shouldn’t he enjoy the smell of her? There was something primal and honest in his confession and she had to admit that part of her was also enjoying the rising pheromones that her hot pulsing body was giving off.

  Finally, it was her turn to eat and she had to bend forward to consume the lettuce, carrots and goats cheese that was remaining in the bowl. She ate hungrily, no longer caring about the mess it made of her hair or the vinaigrette that was smearing around her mouth and chin. When she’d finished he produced a dog bowl of cold water and she drank it all needily and thirstily.

  He must have stood over her and watched her drink because when she’d licked up the last drop he pulled the bowl away and left her alone. He paused in the doorway to inform her that if she needed to pee it was perfectly acceptable to go on the patio. “It can be easily hosed down,” he said as a parting comment.

  She guessed that as well as washing up the lunch things he had also gone to send David the latest update on her activities. Kneeling so helplessly in the sun she found she couldn’t picture what her lover was doing back in their small flat in West London. It seemed like more than a thousand miles away and she found that she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was fully immersed in the moment. Odd though it sounded there was nowhere else she would rather be than bound and chained to the outside of this man’s house. His fantasy play was totally immersive and though painful and humiliating there was something deeply relaxing about being under another person’s control.

  She spent several long minutes enjoying the warmth of the sun with her head bowed before she noticed the faint discomfort growing in her bladder and realised that his statement about washing the paving stones had been apt. Soon she would have to urinate and once again the helplessness of her predicament triggered a response deep inside her. The total degradation of being chained like an animal and forced to pee in front of a strange man was the stuff of her wildest fantasies. It shouldn’t have been so arousing, but it was.

  She waited for as long as she could then allowed the hot stream to flow out of her. It splattered off the hot paving stones splashing her calves and ankles and then ran off the edge of the slab into the border of the garden.

  When she’d finished she was slightly ashamed. She hoped that the midday sun might dry the wet pool before he returned but she was not so lucky. Just a few minutes later he came back and stood surveying her. He made absolutely no mention of the pee and simply unlocked her chain and pulled her gently to her feet. It seemed that they were going for an after lunch stroll and with gentle tugs on her lead he took her onto the narrow grass path that wound through the kitchen garden

  It was surprisingly pleasant. The sun had warmed the ground and bees and butterflies flitted between the shrubs and herbs. Other than the insect noises it was totally silent and delightfully peaceful. She wondered if he might take on the role of tour guide and explain how the garden was organised but he remained silent. She was there as a sex slave and the details of the estate were not relevant to her.

  They reached a small gate in the edge of the garden and he opened it and took her out onto the edge of a vast field. Without a word of explanation he moved her in front of him and urged her forward along the ridge of dried earth that skirted the field. As they walked in the afternoon’s heavy heat she became more and more aware of her senses. She felt the small clusters of dried soil breaking under the soles of her naked feet and the dust accumulating between her toes. The gentle breeze kept her nipples stiffened and moved warm air between her legs. Soon she was glowing with a light sweat and she wondered how aware he was that her pale freckled skin was very sensitive to the sun. She could already feel a heat and tightness in the skin of her cheeks and nose and didn’t want to burn.

  As if reading her mind he stopped and gently rubbed the palm of his hand over her shoulders and then around her naked breasts. “You’re probably starting to feel a little warm. Don’t worry I won’t let you burn, but I would like to see a little glow come to your skin. It will make it so much more sensitive for your beating.” She saw him toss his head at a small copse of trees at the bottom of the slope. “I’m taking you down there for some outdoor punishment.”

  After several minutes she heard the sound of a distant tractor and was suddenly aware of the possibility of being seen. Surprisingly this gave her no concerns, she was sure that James would be able to laugh off their situation with a joke and as she didn’t know anybody for hundreds of miles she had no fear of being recognised. In fact the idea of a lecherous old farmer and his young strong farmhand leering at her naked body was actually a turn on.

  A few minutes later he led her into the small piece of woodland and she stood in the cool shade listening to the sound of a nearby stream. It was an idyllic spot, the air was perfumed with a variety of wild flowers and the forest floor a bed of soft dry leaves. They moved nearer to the running water and as they approached its edge she smelt a plant so evocative that it instantly took her back to her childhood sexual explorations. She was reminded of times when she’d been no more than eight or nine years old and had convinced some of the boys to tie her up and pretend she was a captured princess. She hadn’t known why it was so attractive to her at the time and yet it had clearly laid a sexual imprint that had lasted throughout her life. For awhile she was entirely lost in recollections of her early experimentation and her adult body seemed to respond appropriately. Her nipples stiffening and a tingling returning to her loins.

  James produced some bundles of cord from his pockets and moved her to the nearest tree. Slipping loops around her ankles he pulled them backwards until the chain between her legs was tight and then tied the rope off at the back of the tree. Her legs were held open and she was completely unable to move them in either direction.

  Next he put a loop under her breasts and strapped it around the tree. He used several coils and working both above and below her chest he bound her torso tightly to the trunk. She’d always loved breast bondage as it trapped the blood in her tits and heightened sensations around her nipples. Just the gentle breeze moving through the woodland was enough to set her skin tingl
ing with delight.

  There was a jangle and he produced a length of silver chain with two sets of pincers on either end. She knew exactly what they were although she’d never experienced them. David had teased her with wooden clothes pegs but these were the real deal and she was about to discover how effective they were. First James tweaked and pinched her nipples to make certain that they were fully engorged then certain that she was ready for them he quickly fixed each of the metal jaws onto her expectant flesh. She gasped. The pressure sent a needle of pain through her entire upper body and she had to breathe deeply to stop herself from crying out. Worst of all was the knowledge that the pain would be much more severe when he took them off.

  She had little time to worry about the future because now that she was totally helpless and in torment he acted very quickly. Unfolding a pocket knife he selected a thin sapling and cut off a length of green wood. She knew exactly what he would be doing with it and wasn’t surprised when he stepped up and started to flick the makeshift cane across her body. He worked very delicately at first; landing soft blows across her naked belly and then down her thighs. The impact was so gentle it was actually quite pleasant; this sort of thing a masseuse might do at the end of a beauty therapy.

  He was just finding his rhythm though. When he’d become more confident and accurate he started to work blow after blow up the inside of her thighs towards her crotch. His intention was obviously to build up a slow rising pain and on the start of the third cycle she started to breathe loudly and let out sharp hisses from between her teeth. Her inner thighs were a mass of fiery pain and she couldn’t help but try to twist away to protect her most intimate areas.