Twenty Tones of Red

by Pauline Montford

  Pulling out her hand she tugged her blankets over her and lay back to enjoy the blissful relaxation. Closing her eyes she guessed that it was probably somewhere between ten and eleven, it was earlier than she would normally go to sleep but the day’s events had exhausted her. She had no idea when he would come in and expect to find her bent over the table and so decided to get as much sleep as she could before waking and putting herself into her prostrate position.

  As she drifted towards sleep she let her mind run through the most exciting events of the evening once again. She had enjoyed every minute of it and soon began to fantasise about what might be done to her the next day. They had so much time together there would be opportunities for a whole multitude of intense scenes and she couldn’t wait.

  Her hand was creeping back down into her panties again when she stopped herself. No, she’d already broken the rules once. What she needed was sleep and by allowing her body to relax she let herself melt into the warm floor then drifted off into her dreams.

  Saturday Morning

  The sound of birdsong and the faint glow of dawn pressing around the edges of the curtains woke her. She lay in a half-doze for a little while then remembered her commands and got out from under the table as quickly as possible. After stretching and yawning she finished the remainder of the glass of water then visited the tiny bathroom, wiped her face with a cleansing pad and gave her teeth a cursory brushing. Next she strapped on the beautiful high heeled shoes and walked around the table to get used to them. She was still wearing the metal hobble chain and this combined with the height of the shoes meant that each step was extremely wobbly. Of course that was how it was meant to be. Her movement was now limited to a pathetic totter and the heels forced her to tighten her leg muscles and stick out her chest.

  Moving as smoothly and quietly as she could she went to the window and peeked round the long velvet curtain. She had a view of the beautiful kitchen garden and guessed by the pale quality of the light that it was a little after seven in the morning. She could see some of the windows down the side of the farmhouse but there didn’t seem to be any sign of life. What time would James wake? Was he an early bird or not? A sudden movement made her jump. A figure appeared in her line of sight and she pulled back from the window. Keeping just a tiny millimetre of curtain pulled to one side she was able to see that it was her master. He was walking to the side of the house wearing tight-fitting sports shorts and running shoes. She watched him lean against the brickwork and stretch out his legs and hamstrings. He was obviously an early morning jogger and it was perhaps one of the secrets to maintaining his superb physique.

  She let the curtain drop and moved to the end of the table. Very soon he would be back in the house and she had no way of knowing how quickly he would come to inspect her. Bending over she positioned her chest flat on the baize and spread out her arms and legs. The position was a little easier than it had been the previous night due to the extra height from her shoes but it still left her feeling deliciously exposed and vulnerable. She started to wait. Distant sounds reached her from the house and she guessed that James had come inside but for a long time he did not visit her.

  She dared not move. At any moment he could unlock the door and come in. She knew that his command to find her there was had been an extremely important one. It was a severe test of her submission and obedience and she was determined to obey him. Minutes ticked by and she found herself becoming aroused. It was so simple. She was doing nothing more than bend over a table but she started to be able to visualise how she would look when he opened the door. He’d get a dramatic view of her long shapely legs and the curve of her buttocks in her new silky panties. Her black teddy had ridden up as she bent over and her backside would make quite an inviting sight. The fact that she had imprisoned herself was even more erotic. There were no chains or ropes keeping her there, it was just her own submission.

  About twenty minutes had passed before she heard footsteps and the door was unlocked. “Oh well done slave. Excellent behaviour.” He came and stood next to her then put a dog bowl on the table by her head. He commanded her to drink and she lapped at the liquid with her tongue. It contained sweet warm tea and while she drank it he gave her very strict instructions not to spill a drop on the surface of the snooker table. She managed to consume every last mouthful of the drink and then the next thing she knew her bum cheeks were being gently caressed with some kind of flat object. She had to admire his discipline and self control. He had promised not to touch her below the waist and so far he hadn’t. He was allowed to beat her of course, but not with his bare hand, and this meant that she was probably going to be introduced to an interesting array of implements over the next forty-eight hours.

  He gave her a firm and rapid spanking with what she guessed was the back of a hairbrush or a flat wooden spatula. He must’ve delivered thirty or forty blows in a very short time and although none of them was particularity strong the overall effect built little by little until her tender buttocks were once again tingling and burning.

  When he had finished he took her firmly by the hair and manoeuvred her out of the room. She had to concentrate on walking as the enormously high heels and the short hobbled chain made each step a real effort.

  They’d reached the kitchen when he stopped her and reached for some items that were lying on the counter. The first was a very wide black leather belt that reminded her of the huge thick devices that the weightlifters wear in her gym. This belt was lined with sheepskin and she knew this was to prevent the skin chafing. He buckled it extremely tightly round her waist and fixed it in place with a small padlock at the rear. She suspected that she would be wearing it for a long time as every element of the design seemed to have been included for long-term use.

  Next he put similar cuffs on each of her wrist and padlocked them in place. Finally, with some gentle tugging, he moved both her arms behind her and padlocked her wrists to the big belt. Her arms were now held firmly in the small of her back. She gave a little pull and wriggle and discovered that there was no give at all. She couldn’t move any of the straps even a millimetre. The band around her waist was so tight it could have been part of a corset and she felt that even her breathing was restricted. Then again, she reminded herself that perhaps she was short of breath because she was finding what this attractive man was doing to her so deeply erotic.

  Now that she was thoroughly and completely restrained he let go of her and turned her towards the corridor to the boiler room. “Go to the toilet slave.”

  “Thank you master.” Her voice was husky from underuse and she cleared her throat as she set of down the hallway.

  The door to the small bathroom was closed but she realised that by swivelling she could find the handle and turn it behind her back. She had less luck with the light switch and had to manoeuvre herself to the toilet in the half darkness. She was still wearing the silky Teddy and lace up knickers she’d put on the night before and although she could just touch the edge of her underwear with one of her thumbs she had absolutely no way of pulling them down. She now knew that his planning and forethought was sharp and meticulous and he had not left her clothed by accident. He clearly wanted her to try to urinate whilst still wearing the panties. Anyway, she now had no choice. Quite some time had passed since her early morning pee and she could feel a gentle pressure in her bladder again. When she was sure she was well positioned over the toilet she allowed herself to go. It shouldn’t have been, but in her hyper sensitive state the sensation was oddly pleasant. She couldn’t remember when she’d last wet her knickers but feeling the hot liquid flood the material and start dripping around the edges felt sensual and childishly naughty. Of course it was incredibly messy, she had no way of controlling the flow and soon her underwear and the top of her thighs were soaked.

  Once she had peed she had absolutely no way of drying so she shook herself over the seat as much as she could then found the flush. She didn’t leave the room immediately, instead she sat on the edg
e of the seat until she felt reasonably sure that when she stepped back into the kitchen she would be as dry as possible.

  When she got back to him he was sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal and drinking tea while he read the news on an iPad. As he was busy she risked studying him with furtive glances and was pleased to be reminded how handsome he was. His jet black hair was beautifully cut and combed back from his face in a style so classic it reminded her of Cary Grant and a lot of the fifties film stars. He hadn’t shaven and from where she was he could easily have passed as a George Clooney lookalike. His body was just as good. He was wearing smart jeans and a navy polo shirt and as he ate she could see the muscles on his broad back and shoulders rippling with each movement of the spoon. He was in fantastic condition and she now knew that a morning run was part of his training regime.

  When he noticed her he made her kneel in her usual spot then put a bowl of muesli down in front of her. She knew the drill, like a well-trained dog she would be made to look at her food for a long time before being given the command to eat. Sure enough, he totally ignored her then moved to the sofa with a pot of tea whilst she eyed her breakfast hungrily. This time he wouldn’t need to command her to keep her hands behind her back. She was helplessly bound and the ridge of the thick belt around her waist was digging into her rib cage. It really was unbelievably tight and she found the restriction incredibly sensual.

  Finally, he gave the word and she bent and started to eat. She was hungry but consuming her meal was full of challenges. It was difficult to balance with her hands so far behind her back and inevitably her long red hair got in the way. By nudging the bowl with her chin and with a lot of slurping and the clever use of the tongue she managed to consume every oat and grain.

  When she sat up her hair was plastered to her face and she had dribbles of milk running down her chin. She tried to tell herself that it was frustrating and demeaning to be forced to eat in such a way but her body was alive with sensation and she was desperate for more subjugation and humiliation; part of her loved being dirty and loved that she had no control over her most basic actions.

  He ignored her for a while. Although she was certain that he knew she’d finished eating and was equally sure that he’d secretly watched the whole embarrassing battle with her food he pretended that he’d forgotten that she was there. After ten minutes or so there was a little rustle of movement from the sofa then she heard her next command. “Now clear all the breakfast things. I want everything off the table and onto the kitchen counter as quickly as possible.”

  For a moment she was stunned. Her arms couldn’t have been more securely pinned and she was wearing ridiculously high heels and a hobble chain. The task would be incredibly difficult but she guessed that he’d worked out that it was possible, and if so, she would prove her strength and resourcefulness. Lifting her chin she replied with a simple ‘yes master’ and set about the task.

  First she inched herself round so that she could grasp the edge of her bowl with her fingers then rocked herself up into a standing position. The high heels made this much more difficult, but with a little tottering she managed to keep her balance and got herself upright. Milk dripped onto her silk teddy as she walked across the kitchen floor. Her knickers were still hot and damp with her own pee and the sensation of the warm moist material rubbing gently against her crotch was surprisingly stimulating.

  By pushing herself onto tiptoes she reached the counter and slid the bowl onto it. She had to go back to the table again and again to find each of his breakfast things but eventually she got the job done.

  She didn’t need to lower herself into a slave position because when she came back into the lounge area he rose from the sofa and went over to her. Once again, his hand neatly arranged her hair into a single bunch and then gripped it. She swayed a little but remained completely in his control. Her heels made it more difficult to balance and with her arms so firmly locked it was easy for him to sway her from side to side with a gentle tug on her pony tail. It was a totally demeaning way to be treated and the erotic core of her absolutely loved it. She wanted to look into his big wide handsome face and study his dark intense eyes but as she was just a slave she had to lower her gaze. His body was so close to hers she could smell his natural scents rising towards her. She wanted to reach out and squeeze her arms around him. She wanted to know what the big broad chest and wide shoulders would feel like under her touch but it was not to be. Instead it was him that did the touching. He very roughly and crudely reached out and started to grip her breasts. He didn’t play with them tenderly or lovingly, he merely squeezed each one to the point of pain. She let out a gasp and when she did he took his hand away only to start slapping. After a few blows he got frustrated by her nightwear and tore it open. In one sharp yank he pulled the front section apart so that it fell open like a V-neck. When both her tits were exposed he laid into them again, swatting with his open hand then pinching and squeezing the nipples until she squirmed and let out a long guttural moan. She didn’t know if she was groaning with pleasure or pain and suspected that it was a delicious mixture of both. It was such a surprise that he’d suddenly become aggressive after being so calm for so long.

  The moment didn’t last. Just as the blood was rising across her stinging chest he manoeuvred her across the room and out into the porch. Pushing her down he left her on her knees facing the back door then unlocked and opened it. When he was happy with her position he went back into the house and left her in a cool breeze with her gaze fixed on the stone slabs in front of her.

  She didn’t know how long she waited but after a while the thin morning clouds parted and the summer sunlight started playing on her body. Warm beams crept up her bare thighs, the aroma of the lavender plants reached her nose and she became aware of the distant buzzing of bees. She wondered what her master was doing and for the first time that weekend remembered part of the agreement with David. James was to update him on what was happening every few hours. There was to be no filming and no cameras but he was required to send a series of fairly detailed emails. In the excitement of the moment she’d forgotten all about this arrangement and, if she was honest with herself, she’d also actually forgotten about David. Now she realised that much of the time that James had been sitting on the sofa with his iPad he’d probably been tapping out messages to her lover in London. Everything that had happened so far would have been described to David and he would have no doubt been gaining immense pleasure from the descriptions. That was all fine but what was more interesting to her were the desires of her new master. Had what they’d been doing turned him on? It must have. He’d gone to very careful lengths to prepare everything and would only have done so if he was fulfilling his fantasies too. Did this mean that when he left her he went to pleasure himself? When he’d finished writing the descriptions to David did he relieve the sexual tension in a frantic session of masturbation? The idea turned her on. She loved the fact that her body could excite a man so much and hoped that all the time they were playing he’d had a fierce erection pressing at his trousers. If she hadn’t been so well trained and determined to be well behaved she would have reached out and squeezed his crotch during one of their play sessions. It would have been so wonderful to find his hardness under his trousers and rub herself against him.

  For a while she was lost in her fantasy world. As the wild images of passionate fucking ran through her mind the breeze that came through the doorway intensified and started to caress the sensitive inner places between her legs. Her nipples stiffened with excitement and the dull ache that had been present in her groin since she’d woken up strengthened to a steady pulse. She wanted this man to take her. She wanted to feel his strength but she knew it was not to be. Instead she’d settle for torment. She would satisfy herself with hours and hours of sensual torture because unlike quick fast sex this would show her an even deeper part of her new master. This would reveal his inner soul and the workings of his imagination and this was something she was very kee
n to discover.

  The next thing she knew he was right next to her and his hands were pulling at her shoulders. He got her to her feet then stood stroking her cheek. He said nothing but she sensed that they were about to begin their next scene and she found her tummy buzzing with the excitement of what was to come.

  His hands went to her hips and untied the bows that were holding on her panties. They dropped away and he took them in his hand. He then did something totally shameless that surprised her. He put his bunched fist to his nose and sniffed sharply. He made a gentle appreciative noise and then the next thing she knew he was levering open her jaw with his free hand and stuffing them into her mouth. It was a shock, but she was unable and perhaps unwilling to resist.

  When he’d filled her cheeks he reached under her hair at the back of her neck and she heard the tear of Sellotape. In a couple of quick binding motions he taped the knickers firmly in place. She could taste a number of perfumes. There was the clean nylon taste of the material itself on top of that the salty musk of her own sex. All of this was fused with a trace of her own pee and although it should have been unpleasant it wasn’t. The hormones and pheromones triggered a primitive reaction deep in her brain and she found herself even more turned on.

  Without a word he put a hand on her shoulder and gently urged her out of the building and up the path. It seemed they were beginning the next scene and it was something that would take place outside.

  The Tour

  She moved in short hobbling steps up the paving stones between the rows of fragrant lavender bushes. It was a beautiful early summer’s day and the heat of the sun was intensifying with each passing moment. When they moved onto the gravel her movement became even more difficult. The long heels sunk between the stones and she wobbled from side to side. The chain between her ankles seemed ridiculously short and every waddling step was an exercise in humiliation. She was not walking; she was simply demonstrating her submission and helplessness.