Twenty Tones of Red (18 page)

S
he pushed her way forward and took her first few faltering steps. He clearly had a long whip and although the pain it left was manageable she didn’t particularly want to have too much of it. Once she had the contraption behind her moving, keeping it going was relatively simple. She quickly learned that she had to walk differently in order to keep her balance and put the metal-ringed hooves flat on the floor. They were cleverly designed so that she needed to raise her legs straight in order to stay balanced and this meant lifting her knees in front of her like a well-trained dressage horse.

As she trotted across the farmyard
he used gentle tugs on her reins to steer her. She was impressed by how easy it was to read his instructions through her open jaw. The bit gag conveyed his orders to her but also meant that her saliva was running down her chin and dripping onto her naked body with every jolt.

Keeping rhythm she took him
through an open gate and across a cattle grid. The track started to climb and she slowed a little. It wasn’t going to be that simple. There was a whip crack and an explosion of burning nerve endings down her back. He clearly had some kind of multi-tail whip and was not shy about using it. Three fast strikes then flicked across her bum cheeks and she sped up as quickly as she could.

The
muscles were burning in her thighs and the crotch strap was moving up and down between her legs with each stride. Her skin was blushing with heat and her heart pumping fast in her chest as she sucked air through her nose and gagged mouth. She was outside naked and forced to perform like an animal and she’d never felt more alive. If she’d been able to turnaround or speak she would have knelt and begged him to fuck her right there and then. She wanted nothing more than a big hard cock thrust inside her but she knew that it was not to be. The scene, like all the kinky play they’d indulged in, was about teasing and torment. She was not meant to get any relief.

She pulled him
for another few hundred yards then felt a firm tug on the side of her jaw and saw a smaller track leading off to the left. She took it and it led them down a gentle slope to a small bridge along a stretch of stream bank. Both her reins were pulled at the approach to the bridge and she took this as an invitation to stop. There was a squeak and a change in pressure on the handles of the buggy and she knew that he’d got out.

He came to
her side and she felt something pressing against her upper lip. Sharp metal pincers gripped the flesh between her nostrils then he took her hand away and she heard a jangle. He’d clipped a little bell onto her nose and it was deliciously humiliating to have something ornamental dangling there that she could do nothing about. Next his strong warm hands went to her breasts and he squeezed and twisted her nipples. They were already proud with excitement, but his touch hardened them further. There was more chinking and the pressure of cool steel against her tender buds. He’d fastened clips with bells to each of them and she knew that as she trotted she’d make a beautiful sleigh-bell sound.

Seemingly happy with her new fittings he got back into his seat and set her walking again with a crack of his whip. She pulled him across the bridge then started trotting along the narrow path. Just as she expected she now jingled as she moved. The extra weight made it feel like little fingers were pulling and teasing her breasts and the decorative bells made her feel even less human and even more like an object of decoration and entertainment.

They moved between
fields of tall grass then took another sharp left turn. Sweat was pouring all over her body and the muscles down her back and legs were straining and throbbing from the exertion. Another few minutes of cantering took them to a final turning and she guessed that they had completed the four corners of a square. Sure enough a few minutes later she caught glimpses of the farmhouse and they passed through an open gate and were once again in the yard in front of the barns.

She was pleas
ed when he pulled her to a halt; her breath had become increasingly short and her muscles were throbbing. He came and stood by her and ran his palms down her back then around her tummy and up between her breasts. As he caressed her he complimented her in a low voice, speaking as a race horse owner would address his prize thoroughbred. She shivered despite the heat. She knew that when he unfastened the strap between her legs the soft pliant leather would come away soaking with her own wetness. She was proud to show him the signs of her feminine arousal. She couldn’t speak, but she hoped that her body would tell him that she was loving every minute of his imaginative play. The challenge had been just right. She’d felt tired and strained but as she’d approached the point of discomfort he’d brought her to a standstill. He had proven his ability to stimulate her in every way possible but never to push her to discomfort or real pain.

His strong fingers worked at the back of her neck and her bit was pulled free. After l
eaving her for a little while he returned with a kind of leather bag that he strapped under her chin. It was full of cold fresh water and if she tipped her head back she could drink from it. It was amazingly refreshing and she was impressed at how just drinking in the late morning sunshine could be such a sensual experience. When she’d taken a good few draughts he replaced the bag with another one full of small slices of chopped fruit and carrot. It was not the snack she would’ve chosen but she was hungry and tipped as many of the pieces into her mouth as she could. It was her reward for a good outing but she ate it with a strange sense of melancholy. Deep down she was aware that that their time together was coming to an end. The shadows were short on the ground and the sun was hot. It was probably around midday and she knew that in order to be home before dark she would have to leave quite soon.

Sure enough when she’d finished her snack h
e unfastened her from the small cart then walked her back into her makeshift stable. Her hooves clopped loudly on the smooth concrete floor and once again the back of her collar was hooked onto a chain from the ceiling. He removed her headdress then crouched and unbuckled both her boots. They were eased off her and she was once again standing barefoot in nothing more than the leather harness.

Seemingly on a whim
he decided to take the opportunity to tease her a little more. He put a hand on each of the clamps on her nipples and held them there while she braced herself. She knew that when he removed them the blood would flow back and there would be a few moments of serious pain. He waited and waited and she found herself shivering then squirming with the thought of what was to come. There seemed to be a bond between them that didn’t require speech or words. He felt her anticipation and she felt his.

T
he metal jaws were squeezed open and she gasped. Sharp hot needles drilled into her chest for a split second then there was nothing but a mild throbbing. The clamps had obviously been much weaker than the previous day’s and she was almost disappointed not to get the full hit of pain. After taking the bell from her nose he moved away and she was left for a long time in darkness.

She felt strangely deflated and disappointed.
With most of the pony gear removed she was starting to feel just like a normal girl. The situation only got worse when he returned and methodically unbuckled her body harness and pulled it away. The only thrill she got was from the knowledge that the leather strap that had been between her legs was soaking with her own juices and she hoped that it turned him on.

She was now
entirely naked and although standing undressed in the warm summer air was a sensual experience it was not erotic. He placed the simple silk blindfold over her eyes and steered her quickly and efficiently back into the house and all the way back to the snooker room that had been her temporary prison cell. Without a word he removed her blindfold and pointed to the chair where her clothes and sandals sat neatly folded. “Dress then come and get into the car when you’re ready.” His words felt crueller than any clamp or whip and for the first time she felt that he’d been mean to her.
Give me the cane or the pony harness anytime,
she thought. Being tortured and teased was a form of attention. When a master was playing with her she was the centre of his universe and he had to focus on her with every ounce of his being. There was love in the careful and deliberate administration of pain and the only real hurt came when the attention was taken away.

She decided that t
here was nothing she could do about her sudden loneliness and disappointment and forced herself into action. She made a quick visit to the bathroom then got dressed and strapped her feet into her sandals. It felt odd. Her dress felt somewhat clumsy and strangely unnecessary and even though it was tantalisingly thin it just didn’t feel sexy enough. With a heavy heart she dropped a handful of toiletries into her clutch bag then opened the door and left her temporary prison behind.

The kitchen
appeared to be empty and when she heard the throbbing of an engine outside she realised that he was waiting for her in the big car. She took her time to move through the house. It hadn’t been possible to look at it when she was a slave and she was curious to check some of the details. The sun was streaming through the big glass wall that looked onto the kitchen garden and there were butterflies and insects buzzing between the plants and herbs. It was an idyllic spot and she was sad to leave it. Taking one last lingering look around she trod dreamily through the boot room and out into the back yard.

He had backed the luxury vehicle
close to the door and she could only see a vague outline of his head through the rear window. One of the rear passenger doors was open expectantly and she knew that she was meant to climb in. She did so and as soon as she’d pulled the door closed he set off. Next to her on the seat there was a small but expensive-looking wicker basket with the letters F and M stencilled on the lid. She assumed that this stood for Fortnum and Mason and guessed that it contained food for her journey.

They passed
through a large steel gate and were soon out onto the empty country roads. With each passing mile her mood darkened and she struggled to analyse why she was so unhappy. There were some obvious reasons. Firstly her body had been teased and stimulated almost relentlessly for two days and she hadn’t been given any release. Secondly she felt like a little girl who’d suddenly been dragged out of a toy shop. It wasn’t only the bondage games that had kept her turned on but the thought of what was coming next. Now that she knew that there was nothing interesting about to happen she couldn’t help but feel let down.

Although i
t was only a little after lunchtime she recognised her mood as the Sunday night blues. Playtime was over and she was going home to a small flat in Queen’s Park and the next day she would be sitting in an office doing boring routine things. She tried to think of how pleased and excited David would be to see her but realised that this was the worst thought of all. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be with David. She wanted the sex yes. She wanted him to fuck her with all the energy and passion he could muster but she was afraid that while she was making love to her boyfriend she would be fantasising about her new master. She felt disloyal for admitting this and although she was angry with herself she was also angry with David for setting up the whole situation.

Fields and hedges were wh
izzing past the tinted windows and while a crazy mixture of thoughts swirled around in her head the big car lapped up mile after mile. The roads got larger and soon they were moving in lines of Sunday afternoon traffic. After a few more turnings they were on a motorway and moving at speed down the fast lane. She tried to judge James’s mood from his driving but he remained quiet, calm and self-contained.

They’d
driven perhaps twenty or thirty miles or so up the motorway when he pulled into a service station and drew to a halt in the parking area. He pulled up in a bay near the rear hedge where there were no other vehicles near them except a single London taxi. It was unusual to see a black cab so far from the city and she watched the driver step out of his vehicle and approach them with curiosity. James got out then opened her door and ushered her onto the tarmac with a few cold words. He told her to bring the hamper with her then informed her that the taxi would take her the remainder of the journey to Queen’s Park.

She
got into the back reluctantly and in a deep sulk. As her new vehicle pulled away she realised that part of what she was feeling was rejection. She’d wanted her new master to keep her forever. She wanted him to desire her so madly and passionately that he could never let her out of his sight and yet he seemed to be capable of passing her over to another driver like a package of meat. As the journey along the motorway continued she forced herself to be more rational. How else could he end their time together? He’d chosen to be distant, neutral and efficient and had brought their time together to an end in a kind, calm and professional conclusion. They were not lovers and they weren’t meant to be. They had simply indulged in some intense scene play and if he’d been any more passionate or emotional it would have broken the rules. What he’d done had been sensible and dutiful. He had never for one moment betrayed David’s trust or tried to take advantage of her emotionally. It made sense but it didn’t stop part of her yearning for him.

The journey back into the city got slower, darker and gradually more depressing. A heavy melancholy grew inside her but although it tugged at her heart it didn’t affect her body. Every inch of her skin was still pulsing and tingling with desire. There was a heat burning between her legs that had been ignited on Friday evening and had only intensified with each passing hour. Her physical self was still full of lust but her soul was somehow sad. Even worse she had a creeping fear that David would no longer be the same person to her. Before the crazy idea of lending her to another master she’d been nervous that her weekend would be a disappointment and that her new owner would annoy or irritate her. She’d never thought that the opposite might happen. Somehow the stranger had been more interesting and more enticing than her normal lover and she felt like she was going home at the end of a long glorious summer holiday. It would pass she told herself. She just needed to deal with the transition from fantasy back into real-life.