Twenty Tones of Red

by Pauline Montford

  There was no chance of escape. No matter how hard she wriggled and squirmed her feet were securely held and her chest so firmly pinned against the trunk of the tree that she couldn’t move in any direction. She started to let out little yelps and then he abruptly stopped. Dropping his switch he stepped forward and squeezed open both the clamps. She let out a short scream. For a split second it was as if molten metal had been poured over her tender nipples but then if faded. The sensation rapidly dulled to a tender throbbing and she caught her breath.

  He stood close to her and stroked her cheek. She shuddered and for a moment thought that perhaps she had had an orgasm. Her body was so alive and so tingly that just the touch of his fingertips on the skin around her jaw had sent a violent trembling through her entire body. She was panting loudly and couldn’t open her eyes or close her gasping mouth. It felt as if the cords around her chest were holding her up and without them she would have swooned onto the forest floor.

  He let out an incredibly sexy appreciative sound; something between a growl and a humming noise from deep in his throat then turned and was gone. She heard the crunch of twigs and knew that he was walking down towards the stream.

  He came back shortly and held something to her mouth. She smelt fresh tangy plant smells and then felt moisture at her lips. Water. He was dribbling freshwater from the stream into her open mouth. Some ran down her chin then bounced on her tummy and navel and trickled between her legs. She shivered again, the sensation of just a few cold water droplets amongst the burning heat of her sex almost taking her breath away.

  When she’d drunk he untied her then took her by her collar chain and led her back into the field. The day was even warmer and moving from the cool of the woodland shade out onto the sun-baked farmland brought a warm glow to her skin and hair.

  As she shuffled forward a myriad of sensual messages rose from her body. The inside of her thighs were glowing from their beating and her breasts seemed to be larger and more sensitive. Just moving through the warm air was a sensual experience and with each heartbeat she felt her whole body throbbing with a background pulse of desire.

  As they approached the small gate that lead into the kitchen garden she wondered what was in store for her next. It was sometime in the mid afternoon and there was still a great deal of the weekend to come. She hoped that she’d just received the most intense and painful session of the visit but she couldn’t be sure. She’d actually screamed out when the clamps had been taken from her breasts and letting out noise was strictly forbidden. She might get punished for her indiscretion but at the same time she hoped that she’d given clues as to her limits. He had taken her right to the very edge. She’d tolerated it and in many ways enjoyed it but she didn’t want to be pushed any further. There was a point when pain simply became pain and she didn’t want to meet it.

  The rest of the afternoon was much gentler and acted as a contrast to the torture of the wood. Once they were back inside the house he made a pot of tea and allowed her to drink hers from a bowl that was set on one of the kitchen chairs. She lapped up every drop while he sat on the sofa and tapped at his iPad. Her hair swung onto her face and got plastered around her cheeks, but by now she was learning to get used to this. She knew that her temporary master was sending an email to David and she wondered what descriptions he would be using for their session out in the fields.

  When he had sent the message James came over to her and gently helped her to her feet. He stroked her cheek for a little while and told that she was doing extremely well and then led her back to the snooker room that had been her prison cell the night before. Unclipping the chain from her collar he announced that she could have a couple of hours of privilege time. With this he produced a key and unlocked her wrists. There was a blissful feeling as she was able to swing her arms back in front of her again and she spent a little time gingerly massaging her shoulders. His parting words were ‘do anything you like, but don’t wash’, then the door was closed and locked behind her.

  She was naked apart from her collar, the large belt around her waist and the shackles around her ankles. She went straight to the small bathroom and used the toilet. There was a tiny wash basin in the room and it was theoretically possible for her to start scrubbing at her face her and body but he would know and as it was the only command that she’d been given she dutifully washed just her hands then moved back into the big games room.

  Having her arms free felt wonderfully liberating and for a while she wandered slowly around the room, swinging her arms backwards and forwards and reaching out to touch things. When she’d fully relaxed she went and perched herself on the edge of one of the big armchairs and spent some time examining what had been done to her body. She looked closely at the inside of her thighs and discovered that they were largely unharmed and unmarked. There was a redness to them and here and there she could find a stripe of raised skin but she was surprised how few marks there were. His technique of using wave after wave of gentle blows meant that none of the strikes had left any serious marks or damage. The overall effect was a hyper sensitisation of the whole area without lasting discomfort.

  Her hands went to her chest and she examined her breasts. There were still rope marks dug into her skin and the whole area felt warm and tingly, but again there were no marks or signs of blemishing. Her nipples seem to have been awakened from a lifelong slumber and were longer and harder than they’d ever been. They were so excited and engorged that she wondered if they’d ever return to their natural state.

  After a little while she noticed that there was a stack of magazines under one of the side tables and sat down to look through them. There was a broad range of lifestyle titles and she took a few and sat down to read. It was strangely relaxing, she knew she wouldn’t be needed for at least a couple of hours and being locked in a room meant that she couldn’t do anything even if she wanted to. There was no requirement to do all the little jobs that normally came round at the weekend. She wasn’t able to go shopping or do any washing or answer emails or return phone calls or unblock the sink or do any of the irritating little chores that made up domestic life. She was simply a resting sexual object and this meant there was nothing else to do but relax.

  Dressing up

  She’d been sitting in one of the big comfortable leather chairs reading about a series of topics as varied as how to train a gun dog to yachting holidays in the Caribbean when there was a noise at the door. It was unlocked and James appeared. He gave her a smile that was surprisingly warm and genuine for a man who seemed to have enjoyed torturing her quite so much then walked to the snooker table and placed a paper carrier bag onto its smooth green velvet surface. As soon as he had entered the room she’d cast aside the magazine and jumped to her feet. She stood with her back straight and opened her legs wide then put her arms behind her and clenched each elbow. It was a position of absolute obedience and subjugation and as soon as she had locked her body to attention she felt the distant ache of arousal return to her groin.

  There was rustling and she lifted her head just a fraction to see if she could get any glimpses of what her master was doing. She caught flashes of brightly coloured boxes and guessed that he was laying out some new clothing for her. When he’d finished unpacking the bag he came to her side and stroked her cheek in a tender, almost absent-minded way. She couldn’t help shivering. His warm fingertips seemed to carry an electrical charge that set her whole body tingling.

  To her surprise he then produced a small bunch of keys and proceeded to remove all her marks of slavery. He unlocked the collar at her neck then the huge tight belt at her waist and finally lowered himself to his knees and removed her ankle shackles. Gathering out all her restraints he moved back to the doorway and gave her his parting commands. She was to dress in the clothing he had provided and then to wait in the basic slave position at the end of the table for his return. His only other stipulation was that as usual she was not to wash. After one long parting glance he closed the door and she heard
the key turn in the lock.

  She immediately ran to the table and started to examine the packages. She felt like a little girl at Christmas and wondered why she was so excited. Was it the effect of sensory deprivation? Was it because she’d spent a couple of hours doing virtually nothing that the thought of dressing up was so appealing? It was hard to tell, but she couldn’t wait to see what he’d brought for her and find out about the next scenes that they would play out together.

  It was obvious that the packages contained expensive items. They were the type of large vibrantly coloured cardboard boxes that were only handed out in the most exclusive boutiques. There were designer names embossed in gold lettering on the lids and though they clearly represented French and Italian fashion houses they weren’t well known brands and she didn’t recognise any of them.

  She chose the biggest and pulled open the lid. Under the layers of delicate pink tissue paper there was the most amazing one-piece body. The majority of the garment was in a black sheer material with darker vertical stripes that created the impression of some kind of a corset. The crotch itself was very thin cut and tapered to a g-string at the rear. She immediately tried it on. It was so incredibly tight it fitted like a second skin and was in an entirely different league to the kind of lingerie that could be bought in high street shops. This looked much more like something a film star would wear to a Premier. The effect of the cut-aways on the hips was to make her legs look fantastically long and elegant.

  After parading up and down a couple of times she went back to the table and opened the next box. This one contained a pair of stay-up stockings that were also in a sheer black two tone material and matched perfectly. She perched herself on the edge of one of the armchairs and pulled them on. There was no mirror in the room but she guessed the whole ensemble looked pretty dramatic.

  The third package was a shoebox and she wasn’t surprised to find a pair of black slingbacks inside. These were much more sophisticated than the plain leather stilettos she’d been wearing for most of the day. Although still high they were much less obviously sexual and again wouldn’t have been out of place on the catwalk or the red carpet of a celebrity party. When she slipped them on and paraded up and down the length of the table it felt fantastic.

  There was one box left and she went straight back to see what it contained. It was the smallest of the bunch and inside there was a lacy black choker. Because it was wide it had hints of a collar about it, but this was in a soft material and didn’t lock at the back. She straightened it in place then practised walking in the heels again. It was an outrageous outfit and she couldn’t help smiling as she stalked up and down.

  There were a few things she was now desperate to do. It would have been wonderful to wash her hair and apply some subtle make-up and perfume but it was not to be and with no more preparations to carry out she moved to the end of the table and put herself into the basic slave position. Now there was nothing to do but wait. She was once again a slave in service and at the beck and call of her master.

  Saturday Night

  After about ten minutes James unlocked the door and stood surveying her. She stayed totally motionless in her submissive position and then he came and crouched at her side. He spent a little time brushing her hair off her face and then slipped something around the back that held it in a loose kind of ponytail. Next he pushed something that felt like a swimming cap onto the top of her head and started rolling it down her face. From the smell and texture it was obvious that it was rubber and soon it had covered her eyes and was rolling down to the bottom of her nose. Here he fiddled a little and lined up two small holes in line with her nostrils. He also spent some time pulling her hair flat down at the back of her head where her tangled curls were clearly causing a problem for the skin-tight garment. When he was happy he continued and the hood rolled all the way down until it sat around her neck just above her lace choker. There was a mouth hole but apart from that and the two small perforations around her nose it was tight and featureless. Her eyes were now pinned close and even if she’d struggled to lift her eyelids she wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. With the thick rubber pressing so tight against her ears her hearing was also severely restricted and she could now only really sense dull thuds and vibrations around her.

  His warm strong hands pressed at her shoulders and he urged her up onto her feet. Something pressed at her waist and she felt a belt being wrapped round her. It was pulled tight and then locked in place. Next some kind of cord was passed down between her buttocks and up between the lips of her sex to the front of the belt. There was a lump pressing at the bud of her clitoris where she guessed there was a knot carefully positioned on the rope. There was still more to come. He fitted her hands into some kind of leather mitten and then locked her fingers to her wrist so that her hands were bent into fists. Her wrists were linked together then connected to the rope that came up from her crotch. Seemingly pleased with his work he put a hand on her back and led her forwards. She had to trust him as she was completely blind but with some gentle steers they moved out of the room and she felt the soft carpet change to the stone of the main building.

  As she walked the main intention of the belt and the rope became clear. She had a natural inclination to want to raise her hands but when she did so it pulled on the rope and increased the pressure against her clit. The delicate fabric on the crotch of her underwear did nothing to protect her from the pressure of the knot and every movement of her body resulted in a sensual friction.

  After a short time moving blindly across the flag stones there was the scraping of a chair and he manoeuvred her into a seated position. Reaching out she found the edge of the table with her mittened hands and confirmed her hunch that she was sitting at the dining table. As her hands were tied to the rope she was forced to keep a very upright position and she tried to imagine how she must look. Her posture was that of a prim upper class lady sitting straight-backed with her hands in her lap but she was wearing glamorous underwear and a rubber hood. The overall effect must have been very unusual but also very striking. A slave mustn’t move after being set in place by their master and she stayed perfectly still while she continued to imagine how she must look and what he might do to her next.

  After a little while delicious aromas penetrated the small holes near her nose and she guessed that he was just finishing the dinner. There was some movement around her and the sounds that penetrated her hood suggested that he was laying the table. She found that it didn’t matter how low she held her hands in her lap the crotch rope and its knot pressed relentlessly into her intimate folds. It was intensely erotic and she found herself moving in tiny little wriggles in order to increase the sensations that were rising up from her groin. There was a rattle and something was placed on the table in front of her and she froze. Slaves weren’t meant to take pleasure from their condition and she didn’t want to be caught stimulating herself. After a few more clinks and shakes she felt something brush against her shoulder and guessed that he’d seated himself next to her. What was to follow would be one of the most interesting and intensely sensual meals of her whole life.

  The first thing to be pressed to her mouth was the edge of a glass. She slipped down the liquid and discovered that it was icy cold champagne. The cool liquid snaked down her throat and when it hit her stomach she became aware how hungry she was. She’d eaten very little that day and been put through intense physical exertion.

  After the wine something hard was pressed against her teeth and she tentatively bit down. A beautiful fishy saltiness exploded in her mouth then there was a soft crunch and she tasted something delightfully sour and creamy. She sensed him lean near her and he whispered the words ‘caviar and crème fraîche blinis’ through her hood.

  There was more champagne to wash it down and this time he held the glass until she drained it. It went straight to her head leaving her feeling high and floaty. Alcohol had never hit her so quickly before and she guessed it was because she had so little in
her stomach.

  Next he left her to spend a little while feeding herself and she discovered that there was a wicked motive to the entire scene. Something was pressed between her hands but they were so thickly covered that she had absolutely no idea what it might be. He instructed her to eat and she began the humiliating process of trying to get food into her own mouth. Her hands would only come up a little way and when they did they pulled the rope between her legs incredibly tight. She squirmed despite herself and then started to bend her head. She had to lean a long way until the small rubber hole that covered her mouth came near her padded mittens. First she tasted just leather and then found something cold and solid clenched between her bound fists. She pushed it into her mouth and chewed. Boring. It was just a plain piece of sliced carrot. She finished it nevertheless then sat back upright.

  No sooner was she back in a comfortable position when something else was put between her mittens. She bent again and the process was repeated. This time she got another bite of the amazing caviar and then some more raw vegetables. After a couple of minutes he introduced something new. Her lips and tongue found a deliciously crunchy length of toast with wonderfully rich scoops of pâté on the end that she suspected was Foie Gras. He continued to pass her an assortment of the three types of food and gradually got faster and faster. The process of bending and seeking out the morsels meant a regular repeated pressure on her crotch and he soon managed to create a rhythm were she was rubbing the knot up and down at quite a pace.

  Her senses were being stimulated in so many different ways that she quickly became breathless and lightheaded. She felt as if she was being overloaded with pleasure. There was saltiness, rich savoury and then cold champagne all accompanied by an intensely sensual movement against her crotch. At that moment he seemed to sense her limits and changed the pace. He sat her upright for a brief break and a few mouthfuls of water then made things a little easier. For a while he spoon fed her some kind of soup that she guessed was a lobster bisque and then when she’d sucked down a bowl full he went back to placing the selections into her hands. Occasionally it was the crunch of fresh raw vegetables, then the salty explosion of the caviar on the warm blinis then another mouthful of the crisp toast with the explosively savoury pâté on top. The portions were small, just little mouthfuls interspersed with sips of champagne, but her whole body seemed to glow with the alcohol and the sumptuous richness of the flavours.