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Authors: Pauline Montford

Twenty Tones of Red (29 page)

BOOK: Twenty Tones of Red
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Now just standing in the hall in the empty house she ha
d drifted into the same state, except it was even better. If she stood there long enough the man she loved would come through the door and treat her in the way that she’d always desired. Even better than having every one of her kinky fantasies fulfilled was the fact that he might then add some of his own; things that even she had never thought of. She knew for certain that although it was looks that started things it was somebody’s mind that she eventually fell in love with. She appreciated a handsome face and a strong muscular body but ultimately the sexiest thing about her lover was his imagination. If he could keep matching her for kinky erotic delights then she would be happy for ever.

This last thought brought her slowly out of her daze and she became aware that she was standing looking at a p
rovocatively dressed redhead with a warm smile on her lips. She knew she’d be disappointed but it was time to open her slave orders. With her heart still pounding in her chest and a desire burning in her groin she unfolded the small slip of notepaper.

Iron the two shirts in the guest room,
make your pussy smooth then chain yourself up at six.

Disappointment sank through he
r like a cold heavy stone. She’d been right. There wasn’t much there and the few commands he’d given simply weren’t sexy enough. Yes he was working hard and he’d been neglecting her in order to prepare for his big shoot but she needed some heavy sessions and she needed some soon.

It took just seconds to formulate her plan and not much longer to carry it out.
She went straight to her room and changed into her gym gear. After a workout she would have lunch with her friends in the health club then have a lazy relaxing afternoon. Her slave duties wouldn’t need attending to until the working day was over.

 

At half past five she was in her luxurious bedroom slipping herself back into the sheer black teddy. She had just removed every trace of hair from her crotch and was feeling deliciously smooth and touchable. The ironing she was going to deliberately leave undone. That was going to be one of her little protests and she couldn’t wait to see how he’d react.

When she’d gathered her bondage gear she trod slowly down the big staircase and sat on the bottom step.
She fastened a leather collar around her neck then put the chain from the front ring around the main banister post and locked it with a small padlock. Her ankle bracelets and hobble chain she deliberately left lying on the floor then she put her hands behind her back and clicked a pair of handcuffs closed on her wrists.

It looked much more dramatic than it actually w
as. The links that held her cuffs together had been very carefully weakened so that if she really pulled with all her might the metal would eventually bend open. It would take a couple of minutes and it would hurt like hell but she could free herself if a serious emergency arose. The same was true of the steel loops that connected her collar to the staircase; with some violent yanking she could snap the weaker links and make her escape.

Despite the emergency plan she was
, to all intents and purposes, now a helplessly chained slave and this was how her master liked to find her. To perfect the scene she knelt on the cold tiled floor and bowed her head. Her single piece of lingerie had ridden high on her thighs and she opened her legs as wide as they would go to make sure that her smooth pussy was clearly in view. Now all she had to do was wait.

The long period of
stillness was part of her submission. It would be a good ten minutes before her master was due home and if he got stuck in traffic she would have to remain motionless for even longer. During this time she would deliberately test her restraints to remind herself that she was in bondage; pulling on her arms and bending her neck until the collar chain tightened. At the same time she would fantasise about what James might do to her and that would help her to become more and more aroused and slip deeper into the dreamy sensual mind-state known as subspace.

On this occasion
she let her mind drift to her two deliberate mistakes. Lying behind her on the bottom step were the ankle cuffs she was supposed to be wearing. Even more dramatic was the fact that there were a couple of shirts still un-ironed in the utility room in the basement. Considering the fact that she’d only had three instructions she’d done a very good job of messing up most of them and now her tummy was fluttering with the anticipation of how her master would punish her.

 

The gate let out a short squeak and she strained to hear footsteps on the path. The tread of James’s shoes reached her then a key turned in the lock. After more little clicks a blast of fresh air brushed her skin then she felt eyes on her and heard her master’s voice.

“Evening slave.” He put some things on the hall dresser and she heard him walk nearer.
“It seems you forgot your ankle cuffs.”

The game she was playing was highly passive aggressive and she mumbled her reply as pathetically an
d meekly as she could. “Yes sir, sorry sir. I also forgot your ironing. I only remembered the command after I’d handcuffed myself.”

He was silent for a while
and when he replied he sounded hesitant and confused. “You forgot the cuffs
and
the ironing?”


Yes. Sorry sir. They were selling replica Egyptian jewellery on the shopping channel and I got very distracted.”

There was a long pause.
“The shopping channel? Slave S you have a degree in IT and Business Studies. What the hell were you doing watching the shopping channel?” She said nothing and he continued. “Well I don’t know. I’m going to get a drink. Stay there.” The last comment was quite redundant as it would have taken her ten minutes of frantic yanking and straining to escape her chains.

She heard him moving around in the kitchen.
The fridge was opened with the hiss of an air seal and a clank of bottles and then he came back and sat in the hall chair. She was fairly sure that he was sitting drinking from a cup of juice. He was probably running over her behaviour in his mind and she knew he would only come to one conclusion. The un-ironed shirts and shopping channel rubbish had been deliberately poor excuses. What he would realise was that he’d been too distracted with his work to dominate her properly for a few weeks and her misbehaviour was a demand for attention.

He finished his drink in silence and s
he enjoyed feeling his eyes on her. The evening sun had moved round to the front of the house and was pouring through the stained glass in the door panels. Long creeping fingers of coloured light were creeping across the antique stone slabs and had nearly reached her knees. She’d become part of the old house; another beautiful object decorating the hallway just like the antique table and beautiful paintings.

 

After a few minutes she heard the rustle of cloth and he spoke to her again “Well now slave. You had just three little tasks and you failed two of them. That means I will have to give you a long and severe punishment.” He moved near her and she felt a big piece of cotton being placed over her head. When he’d tied it in place she caught a tantalising waft of his body scent and realized that it was his shirt. Now that she was blindfolded he unlocked the chain that kept her tethered to the staircase and gave his first command. “Follow me slowly on your hands and knees.”

He set off and she went after him li
ke an obedient animal. The tiled floor was hard against her skin but she kept pace and soon they were at the staircase that led into the cellar. He reached up and unbolted the door then guided her downwards. As she took each step her excitement grew. Their underground play space was the most serious they had. This was where the heavy-duty action took place and it was exactly what she was in the mood for. So pleased was she in her success in manipulating the situation that by the time they reached the foot of the stairs she was struggling to suppress a smile.

With firm and forceful movements he manoeuvred her to the wall
then unlocked her handcuffs only to fasten each of her wrists into straps bolted to the brickwork. A second later he was working around her feet and soon he had her legs spread apart and her ankles firmly secured.

She cou
ldn’t resist wriggling to test the bonds, the sensation of being helplessly spread and open to him was just what she’d been craving and she felt her heartbeat increase with anticipation. She imagined herself like an exotic butterfly with its wings pinned back for examination; she was helpless and open for scrutiny, punishment or stimulation.

She knew that the right hand bolt had been weakened and if she hung all her weight on it and bounced up and down for several minutes it would bend and then eventually break. It was a necessary failsafe mechanism which enabled him to leave her alone with some degree of safety. As with all their long term captivity systems it was by no me
ans easy to get free and was only something that she would do when pumped with adrenalin when it was really necessary.

In the mean
time she wriggled seductively and waited for his next move. She thought perhaps she’d heard the scrape and creak of a chair and guessed that he’d pulled up a seat and was sitting studying her. The suspicion was confirmed when she felt a warm calloused hand closed around her thigh just above her knee and he started to speak.

“Well
, well. I have to say I’m shocked by this bad behaviour. This is a serious lapse. A well-trained slave might make a single mistake occasionally but to deliberately disobey orders and sit around watching shopping channels. Well that’s.... I guess all I can say is that it’s partially my fault. I have been working a lot and I’ve been neglecting the discipline...” His hand started to slowly inch up her inner thigh and her breath caught in her chest. She sensed him move a little closer and then he continued. “This is easily fixed however. Training and punishment in large doses ought to set things right.” His hand was nearly at her pussy and though she was listening to him her mind was wondering whether or not he was going to touch her. When he did reach her sex he very softly skirted his index finger around the crease at the top of her leg and for the briefest of moments a spark of electricity passed across the surface of her taught skin and rippled around her pussy. Then he was gone, his caress moving up towards her breasts. She squirmed; trying to push herself on his hand but it was too little too late.

He was a master of the art of slow and deliberate tease and there was no way he was going to do anything as obvious and direct as touching her quite yet. Instead his hand slowly skirted around her tits then walked up her throat and found its way to her lips then into her mouth. She sucked shamelessly on his f
ingers then he pulled them away. There was a violent yank and her silky black teddy was ripped from her. It was only a flimsy thing but his strength and determination surprised and secretly thrilled her. There was something animalistic about his desire to see her naked and it was deeply gratifying. His fingers took her saliva to her breast and started tweaking and rolling both her nipples in her own spittle.

He
could obviously sense the extreme pleasure she was getting from his fondling and stopped. Her situation was about punishment not pleasure and he knew when to move from one to another. She heard his footsteps fade then the creak of the stairs and knew that she had been left alone. Her naked body was still throbbing and tingling from his touch but she was absolutely helpless to do anything about it. She was his toy to play with and punish as he desired.

 

He returned about five or six minutes later. She heard the rip of plastic then pieces of sticky tape were gently pressed against her bikini line and inside the top of her thighs. A smooth oval was gently positioned against the top of her pussy and held in place against the bud of her clitoris. The next thing she felt was a small plastic box being strapped to her hip and she knew exactly what he had in mind. With a flick of a switch the smooth plastic egg started to buzz. The tape only held it loosely against her but that was deliberate. That meant that the vibrations were infuriatingly faint and although she could feel delicious tremors moving between her legs the pressure was too weak to produce a satisfying effect. She was being tantalised and nothing more.

For a few minutes he seemed to think it enough that she was chained against the wall with her most intimate places being t
eased but it was inevitable that pain would be mixed with the infuriating amount of pleasure. He came close to her and teased and toyed with her breasts for a while then she heard the terrifying rattle of chains and metal clamps were clipped to each of her tender buds. It was painful but not unbearable. She knew from experience that the real pain would come when the clamps were taken off and the blood was allowed to circulate again. In the meantime it felt as if a couple of sharp pins were being pressed into her breasts and her mind struggled to cope with the variety of sensations that were rising through her body.

An expert in slowly building up scenes he left her again for a few mi
nutes and she guessed that he’d gone to fix himself a drink or a snack. When he returned he had another piece of gear in his hand and he took delight in teasing her with it. As soon as the nub of rubber pressed against her mouth she knew that he was going to insert a penis gag. Before fitting it he teased her by pressing his fingers against her tongue and moistening her lips and chin with her own saliva.

BOOK: Twenty Tones of Red
10.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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