Twenty Tones of Red (10 page)

T
hey started to gather speed and she guessed that they’d reached one of the main roads leaving London and were now free of the worst of the traffic. He switched on the CD player and she was surprised to hear opera rising sweetly and vibrantly out of the car’s speakers. She hadn’t seen the vehicle but from the comfort of the seats and the quality of the sound she guessed that it was a big expensive brand.

After a while having her hands held in the small of her back became uncomfortable and she wriggled to adjust her position. As she moved her thin cotton dress slipped up her thighs and she realised that she could do nothing to stop it. Her position gave her the first small dilemma. With David she’d been trained to always keep her legs as wide open as possible. It was part of the basic symbolism of submission that a female slave should always keep their legs open. Neither she nor David owned a car though and she’d never been told how to sit on the back seat. She was wondering if she should put her knees together or open her legs when her new master turned the music down and gave his first serious command. “Open your legs as wide as they’ll go,” he said in a firm voice. “Swivel your feet so that they’re sideways against the seat.”

She did as he had commanded; i
mpressed that by adding the detail about her feet he was making sure that her knees were as far apart as possible. As she adjusted to the new position the little dress rode higher until she could feel the hem pulling across the top of her thighs. She was now fully exposed to his gaze in the rear view mirror. Her legs were so far apart she felt the lips of her sex separate and as the two pink butterfly petals parted she was aware of her own juices oozing out. It was more exciting than she could have imagined. She was quite helplessly bound and blindfolded and was being driven to an unknown location by a man she hardly knew. It was the stuff of her very wildest fantasies and although she was excited and exhilarated she was also strangely calm. There was a quiet confidence to her new owner which made her certain that he would never do her any real harm or put her into any serious danger.

They must have driven for a little over an hour when the big vehicle slowed and she sensed that they were coming to a halt by the side of the road. The car stopped then his door opened and he got into the back with her.

“
How you doing slave?” he asked.

“F
ine thank you master,” she replied politely.

“W
e’re in a country road at a spectacular beauty spot,” he told her. “There’s nobody around and it’s dark so if you need the toilet I can help you do that here.”

She shook her head
. “No thank you master.” Her fear of needing to pee at an inconvenient time had meant that she had stopped drinking liquids at lunchtime.

“
What about a drink or a snack? Is there anything I can give you?” he asked.

She declined again, using words that were formal and polite and
a tone of voice that surprised her with its meek girlyness.

“Okay then.” he reached over and
touched her cheek and her skin tingled. After moving gently along the line of her jaw his hand went down and suddenly squeezed her right breast through the thin fabric of her dress. Letting out a gasp of surprise and pleasure she suddenly remembered the small change to the rules. Just the previous weekend she’d agreed that her temporary master would be allowed to touch and fondle her above the waist. She was now glad of the decision. Sitting with her legs spread in the back of the car she wanted nothing more than to feel his strong hands all over her. She wanted him to press his palm between her legs and discover her heat and wetness that was waiting for him.

He was
disappointingly restrained; limiting his exploration to a gentle squeeze of her breasts. Her nipples were hard buttons of lust and she found herself longing for him to fondle and tease them but he didn’t. Instead she heard him slipping out of the car then heard the crunch of stones as he walked away. She imagined she could hear the distant trickle of water and smiled. He at least had stopped because he needed the toilet.

Her fantasy mind was
fully engaged and kicked into overdrive. She had visions of him running back to pull her from the vehicle and forcing her to lick the final traces of urine from him and then suck him to hardness. The drama and realism of the little fantasy shocked her. In little more than an hour in his company she was already so eager and aroused that her mind was concocting images of outrageous submission and humiliation.

While she
waited for him to come back a warm summer’s breeze blew through the back of the car and she smelled wheat and dry grass on the air. It was clear they were already far from the city and when he returned and started up the big vehicle she discovered where they were going.

“Just another hou
r or so and we’ll be in Gloucestershire.” he told her.

She had plenty of time to think this over as for much of the next sixty minutes he was mostly quiet; concentrating on manoeuvring the big car down the increasingly narrow lanes while wonderful operatic arias filled the interior.

She sat with her
legs wide open and her dress high on her thighs. There was some discomfort in her lower back and a dull aching on the tendons inside her legs but she didn’t mind. The aches were no worse than the minor soreness from a gym or yoga session and in her submissive life she had slowly learnt to enjoy the small throbs of pain as a reminder of her position and as a way of staying connected to every part of her body.

A
s they twisted and turned across the countryside she realised that she already wanted the one thing that wasn’t going to happen. The rules had forbidden any touching below the waist but that was all she could think about. What was the psychology of that? Did people always want the one thing they couldn’t get? It seemed like it was the classic case of human psychology. She remembered how ironic it had been that all the girls at school with straight hair had wanted curls and all those with curls and wanted to get rid of them. She pondered whether she could change things herself. Did she ultimately have the control to bend the rules? Could she offer her body to him? What would he say if she begged him to fuck her with all the passion and intensity that she was yearning for? She tried to calm down. Reminding herself that it was only the excitement of what was to come that was making her so sluttish and needy. Perhaps once she’d spent some time with her new master she would settle and regain some control of her thoughts.

For a long time
she was lost in her own dreams and fantasies. She did start to grow hungry and the faint desire to urinate also built inside her but she pushed them to the back of her mind. A lot of slavery and submission was about controlling the weaknesses of the body. When hunger crept up on her inconveniently she reminded herself of the many millions in the world who went to sleep on an empty stomach. It was only in the west amongst the very weakest that feeling slightly empty for a few minutes was considered to be a great form of suffering. She was much tougher than that and like all good slaves she found enormous pride in her ability to endure any circumstances she found herself in.

She guessed that about
an hour after their first stop he pulled the car to a halt again. This time he sat next to her and put a small biscuit to her lips and commanded her to eat. It was a plain Ryvita crispbread and she found herself chewing on it greedily. When he’d taken great care to rub all the crumbs from her lips he lifted a bottle to her mouth and she drank some cool water. He was obviously in a kind mood because the next thing he did was lean forward and unfasten her handcuffs. Whilst commanding her firmly to stay completely still his strong warm hands gently massaged the marks that had been left around her wrists. She found herself admiring the way he somehow managed to be simultaneously very kind whilst also incredibly authoritarian and in control.

Next h
e removed her sunglasses and told her that for the remaining part of the journey she was to obey his commands and not to move an inch without his say so. She humbly agreed and allowed herself to be manoeuvred into a new position. He closed her eyelids and made her bow her head. She was still in darkness but this time it was a sign of obedience. What he did next was much more sexual and left her in no doubt that she was going to be spending much of the weekend on display. He firmly pushed up her dress until it was around her waist and then moved her own hands between her legs. By subtly and carefully manipulating her thumb and first finger he pressed her hands against the outer lips of her pussy and made her hold herself open to view. This was a much more blatant and humiliating position than simply having the dress ride up and she found it incredibly arousing.

She he
ard a click above her and guessed that he had switched on one of the car’s interior lights to make sure that his view of her wasn’t compromised. Now that she was in effect humiliating herself and holding her own body in its position of bondage he moved back to the front of the car and they continued the journey.

T
he excitement of what was happening to her set her fantasies running wild. With her eyes closed and nothing else to do but think, the naughty part of her mind was left to imagine the wildest things it could. In her mind’s eye she saw herself forced to masturbate for him. She was made to rub herself then he became so excited the car screeched to a halt and he jumped in the back and pushed himself inside her and pinned her to the seat with his strong arms.

It was not to be. He didn’
t speak or ask her to do anything for the rest of the journey. Time drifted by and it didn’t feel as if she had been holding herself open for his view for very long when the car passed over a cattle grid. She heard the squeak of what she guessed were electric gates and then they pulled to a halt on some gravel. He came and opened the door then commanded her to get out. As she swung her legs of the passenger seat she caught a split second glance of a single storey brick structure and was then steered down a path lined with lavender plants towards a farmhouse door. He quickly unlocked it and moved her inside. “Kneel here. First position.”

She obediently knelt on the
big slabs and opened her legs. The stone pressed ungivingly against her knees and her thin dress rode up to expose her upper thighs. Lying her hands palm upwards she lowered her head into the position of total servitude that she was now so used to. She heard him put his keys in a second lock and realised that they were in some kind of small porch or boot room. Knowing that he had his back to her while he opened the door she risked a very naughty peak. All she could see was a line of mud crusted boots and the lower half of an array of waterproofs and waxed jackets just a few feet away.

Quickly lowering her gaze she heard
him open the internal door then he moved inside and started to prepare the house. There were clicks and the floor in front of her brightened as he switched on a number of lights then he moved past her and unloaded a few items from the car.

She was ignored as he worked and why not
? She was simply an object. She had been owned by one master and he had chosen to past her on to another.

After ten minutes or so he came back and pulled her up out of her position. Her knees were sore and her leg muscles were aching from the journey. He seemed to sense her discomfort and steered her gently into the main house. “Lift your head. You may look around now.”

Raising
her chin and officially opening her eyes for the first time she stood and soaked in her surroundings. They were in a long open plan kitchen dining room that had probably once been a barn or grain store. The external wall had the small old fashioned windows of a traditional farm house but the internal wall was a single long pane of glass. Outside, and floodlit by a number of hidden spotlights, was a kitchen garden packed with neat squares of shrubs and herbs. Sofas and armchairs sat facing each other in the first section and behind them a long roughly hewn wooden table marked the centre of the dining area. This ran to the kitchen which was again an interesting mix of the ultra modern and highly traditional. The worktop was a single piece of shining steel but the cupboards and units were old-fashioned oak. The building was warm and beautifully decorated and the smell of fresh flowers, baked bread and ground coffee helped her feel comfortable and at home.

She was still absorbing the
many subtle design features and comfy looking seating areas when he snapped out another command. “Strip. Keep your head bowed. Take everything off and throw it on the floor in front of you.”

Everything. She smiled to herself. Everything was not much. Everything
was a thin dress and a pairs of sandals from Topshop. It was just a matter of unzipping and dropping her dress then unbuckling her shoes and she was standing naked in the stranger’s country house. Perhaps because of the newness of her surroundings or because of her excitement but she forgot some of her basic training and neglected to bow her head. He moved straight to her and placing a couple of fingers on the top of her skull pressed gently downwards. “Shouldn’t you have your head bowed at all times?” He asked, a faint trace of amusement in his voice.

Her apolo
gy was quite genuine and she flushed with shame. One thing she’d spent many weeks promising herself was that her slave etiquette and behaviour would be one hundred percent perfect. She knew how to be a submissive but after just a few minutes inside she had already failed. She made a mental note to be perfect from then on and stood hoping that he would quickly give her a chance to prove herself.