Twenty Tones of Red (11 page)

He moved away from her and she heard him drop into on
e of the nearby leather sofas. After taking a little while to get comfortable he started to give her a briefing on their situation. He explained that they were in a farmhouse in the middle of a large estate. The nearest building was a farm more than a mile away so she needn’t be concerned about being seen naked in the garden and the surrounding grounds. Next he explained that as well as all the cereal crops that were being grown around them the next big passion in the area was horse riding and pony training. There was a reason for this little lecture and it soon became apparent when he gave her the next set of orders. She was to lift her arms in front of her chest and hold them as if they were hooves then canter up and down the full length of the room like a horse.

It was an unusual reque
st. Pony play was a big part of the BDSM scene but she had never had any experience of it. She wondered if this was going to be her temporary master’s big fetish and was about to look at him and ponder all the possible things he might make her do as an animal when she remembered that she’d been given an order and quickly set about obeying it.

She started to mov
e; putting her full effort into genuinely bouncing along the cool stone floor as if she really was a prancing equine. The cool air brushed over her naked body, her breasts bounced uncontrolled with each jolt and her hair swung across her face. It was so obviously childish that it was at the same time deeply humiliating and an obvious sign of his control and her obedience.

When she reached the kitchen counter at the far end of the long room she turned and cantered back towards him. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him studying her closely and was aware that he had reached for something from
behind the sofa and was holding a long thin object across his lap. It looked like a fishing rod, but she had to lower her gaze before she could study it any further.

He left her trotting
backwards and forwards the full length of the room and she began to form a theory as to what he was doing. She had been motionless and cramped in the back of the car for several hours and now he was forcing her to move to get her blood flowing and muscles loose. In terms of a dominant/submissive relationship what he was doing was also quite clever. For the last hour or so he had left her untied and was and testing her obedience to his voice alone. There was nothing forcing her to kneel on the floor or to run like a horse. She had not been threatened and she was not bound or restrained, she was simply obeying commands as a submissive slave should.

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.

L
eft 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 n
o 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 rattl
ing 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 s
hiver 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 o
n 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?