I got out of my car, locking and closing the door. Standing in the warm July sunshine, I looked around. I was on an old farm in the Vermont hills, miles from civilization. I went and checked out the farmhouse but found the doors and windows all locked. I walked back to my blue Accord and opened the trunk. There was nothing in there but, following my lover’s instructions, I tossed in my keyring. I looked down at the glittering keys lying in the middle of the empty trunk and, hesitating for only a second, I closed the lid. I wasn’t going anywhere now.
I’m tall, a blond, and have a trim, athletic figure from many years of tennis. I don’t mind saying I’m attractive and am very proud of my tight, nicely-shaped butt. My boobs aren’t the biggest but I haven’t heard any complaints from Dan, my lover. He’s the one to whom I lost the bet and who’s instructions I was to follow the rest of the day.
I had driven up into the hills to his parents’ old farm. They were on vacation and their farmhouse and little used barn were vacant. Miles from civilization, I knew I was totally alone. My lover would be driving up later on today, but until he got here, I was to follow his instructions to the letter. He knew I always paid off my bets and so here I was.
His instructions were for me to wear minimal clothing that I wouldn’t mind having wrecked. Accordingly, I wore a cheap Wal-Mart halter-top, some hole-ridden cutoffs I normally used for car washing, and a pair of $2 flip-flops. Fortunately, the weather was quite comfortable and I didn’t need any more clothes, which was a good thing since both the house and my car were no longer available to me. I stood in the yard for a couple of minutes, enjoying the warm sun and cool breezes playing over my skin. Then, it was time to move on.
Following Dan’s instructions, I walked over to the old barn. It was your typical Vermont barn: old, well-used, slightly falling-down looking. Inside, it was cooler and had an earthy barn smell I rather liked. I padded past empty stalls, my flip-flops slapping on the dirty wooden floorboards. I was to go into the tack room and, once there, open an envelope and follow a new set of instructions.
The tack room was a windowless converted stall with only a table for furnishings. The walls, however, were lined with all manner of leather and steel horse tack, some very old, some much newer looking. On the table were a purple envelope and a large pair of scissors. I opened the letter.
“Dearest lover,
I hope you followed my instructions
about your clothes, as I would now like you to remove them and cut them
into pieces. I prefer you naked. After you are done, open up
the box under the table. There you will find some new items to wear
and what to do with them. Obey, my love, obey…
Dan”
Now he had my interest. Once I followed his instructions, I would be naked for at least until he got here which would be hours. My nipples tingled with the thought and I could feel the beginnings of wetness in my pussy.
Under the table I found the box but before I could open it, I knew I would have to strip down. First I took off the flip-flops, standing barefoot on the gritty wooden floor. Using the scissors I cut the straps off, then I cut them into little pieces. The sole was harder to cut but I managed it. Now I would experience the world first through my bare feet.
Next came my top. I pulled it up and over my head freeing my breasts. The air felt good on my now-erect nipples and I gave them a quick massage to bring them fully to life. I stared at the white cloth in my hands, realizing how exposed I would be if I continued with this game. Quickly, before I could change my mind, I tore the light garment to shreds.
Finally I dropped my cutoffs, stepping out of them and picking them up. It felt so good, standing there naked and knowing I soon would not be able to clothe myself even if I had wanted to. I picked up the scissors and efficiently, methodically cut the shorts into useless bits of cloth. With the last cut I put the scissors down and, dropping to my knees, rubbed my hot clit to a satisfying orgasm.
I took a minute or two to recover, then stood up and opened the wooden box. Inside was another purple note and, under it, some leather items. The leathers were various restraint devices—a pair of ankle cuffs, a head harness with bright red ballgag, a pair of bondage mittens, a black rubber butt plug with a wire sticking out of it, and some KY lubricant. My stomach fluttered briefly with excitement as I realized these were for me to wear. Dan and I had done quite a bit of bondage recently and so I wasn’t too surprised to find these items but, since he wasn’t here to put them on me, how were they to be used? The answer came in the purple note.
“Dearest naked love slave,
I have drawn a diagram of
how I want you to put on these restraints. You are to do this in
the stall across the way. Once secured, you will be able to look
down the road and see me drive up—and I will be able to see you.
One thing: be sure to put the butt plug in before plugging the wire into
the black box. No harm will come if you do it wrong, but it will
be more interesting for you to do it my way. Do try to keep it in
as long as possible—letting it pop out will send you to the next stage
of this experience.
Dan”
The well-drawn diagram was of a nude woman standing spread-eagle, her ankles chained to opposing walls, her hands in bondage mittens and chained to the ceiling. She wore a head harness with ballgag (cutely colored red) and a wire snaked out of her pert butt over to a black box. My God, I thought, this is going to be me!
I padded over to the stall across the aisle and looked in. It was somewhat cleaner than the others were (Dan had apparently prepared it for me) but with a floor of loose black earth. Set in the wooden walls were steel rings on opposite sides, a couple inches off the floor. From each ring ran a chain ending in a snaphook. Hanging from the ceiling was a chain attached to a three-foot wide wooden rod. On the ends of the rod were steel snaphooks. Attached to one wall was indeed a black box with a jack on the front.
Comparing the diagram to the stall setup, I realized I would be putting myself into bondage for my lover. The thought was almost too much to handle and I nearly gave myself another orgasm. Instead, I decided to hold out and follow his instructions. I promised him a love slave and he was going to get one—trussed up and ready for his stiff cock.
Back in the tack room, I took the toys out of the box and laid them out on the table. They were all new and well made. They all attached with lockable buckles but there were no locks in the box. If I followed the diagram, though, I would not be able to free myself anyway with my hands in leather bags separated by a three foot spreader bar. The head harness was particularly pretty with its bright red rubber ball and shiny steel buckles. It looked about the right size for my mouth.
I examined the black butt plug. It was of a size I knew I could handle, perhaps a little wider, but the wire coming out of it was different, almost like a computer cable rather than a power cord for a vibrator. I spaced out a little dreaming what it would be like easing that baby up my backside.
I picked up the ankle cuffs and, kneeling down, attached them snugly to my legs. The leather was soft and comfortable. I tugged on the steel D-ring and knew they would be quite strong enough. I walked over to the stall with the other items. Stepping into the cool black dirt, I felt the primal sensations of bare foot and Mother Earth. I placed my restraints on a convenient nearby shelf.
I picked up the head harness and carefully fitted the ballgag into my mouth. It was just the right size to keep me quiet, but not so big as to cause my jaws to hurt. I buckled the neckstrap snugly in place, my lips caressing the red rubber. Next came the headstrap, up the sides of my face to the ring on my forehead and over my head to the buckle on the neckstrap. I wished I had had a mirror to see how I looked, the black leather contrasting nicely with my long blond hair. Finally I buckled the chin strap in place, locking my jaw around the ball filling my mouth. I went around to all three buckles one more time, adjusting them to just the right tension to keep me silent but comfortable.
I tried to talk but only grunts came out – I imagined myself becoming a farm animal tethered in its stall. I started to fantasize about my lover finding me there and what he would do to me. It took an effort on my part to continue.
Since I wasn’t ready to commit myself to my bondage yet, I put off inserting the butt plug. Instead, I attached one of the ankle chains to my left foot. To get the other chain to reach my right foot I had to spread my legs about two feet apart. I pulled the other chain over and attached the snaphook to the leather cuff on my ankle. I tested this setup by trying to close my legs – it was impossible.
Now came the mittens. These were leather bags with a strap and buckle around the open end and steel D-ring attached to the closed end. I put my left hand into one of them and secured the strap around my wrist. The bag leather restricted my fingers somewhat but by pressing hard enough, I could still use them to put the other mitten on my right hand. I worried a little about being able to get them off, but a little experimenting on my part showed me I could do it. However, once the mittens were attached to the wooden pole overhead and held several feet apart, there was no way I could free myself.
Now I stood in the cool,
farm-smelling stall, my legs spread and locked open, my mouth filled, and
my hands ready for permanent restraint. I lifted my leather bound
hands up to the upturned snaphooks on the overhead bar. Gently, I
rested the D-rings on the spring-loaded metal tongue. With the merest
of motions, I could now lean forward and seal my fate to be Dan’s imprisoned
slave. I would be unable to move from this position or call for help
(not that there was anyone to hear) until he arrived. And then I
would be at his mercy for as long as he wanted. Also, I would never
find out what the “next level” was.
However, at this point I
was still free. With a little effort I could remove all my restraints
and walk away a free (if nude) woman. I decided to do just that.
I took off all the leather and put them on the shelf. Dan was still
a couple of hours away and I decided to enjoy my freedom a little longer.
I walked around the farm a bit, stark naked on a beautiful sunny day. I explored a field of flowers behind the house and lay down in a sun-dappled patch to work on my tan. The grass felt good under my ass, the breeze tickling my shaved pussy. I let my fingers trace lines on my breasts and wander down to my snatch. Just as things began to get interesting, I remembered why I had come here. I stood up and headed back to the barn.
Back in the stall, I quickly put the ankle cuffs and head harness back on. The ballgag tasted of wet rubber. Now it was time to put in the butt plug. Dan had thoughtfully included some exam gloves. I put one on my right hand and squeezed a liberal dollop of KY onto the fingers. I squatted in the cool dirt and proceeded to lube up my tight butthole. I worked the cool jelly into my anus and rectum as far as my finger would go. The sensations were very pleasurable and I could feel my pussy getting hotter and wetter by the moment.
I used another handful of
lubricant on the plug itself and pressed it’s cool tip to my anus.
I slid it in and out repeatedly, a little deeper each time, until with
a tiny twinge and a grunt on my part it popped in. I tugged on it
to check it’s fit – it was in but the neck was wider than I was used to.
I would have to grip it with my ass muscles to keep it in for any great
length of time.
At this point, I made a
little change in my surroundings: I opened the outside stall door.
Now Dan (and anyone else coming up the driveway) would get a full view
of my predicament. In for a penny…
Now I took the wire from the butt plug and snapped it into the jack on the black box. There was a quiet click from the box but nothing else happened. Maybe it was some new kind of vibrator or on a timer, I thought, attempting a little smile behind the ballgag.
Aware of the cord trailing out my butt, I maneuvered over to the center of the stall and once again attached the chains to the ankle cuffs. The plug moved around in my ass a bit and I had to clench those muscles to draw it back in. Damn that felt good. I let my hands make one last pass over my tits, teasing my nipples into hard little nodes of pleasure. I let my finger dip into my wet pussy, brushing my clit, and causing me to shiver in anticipation. Then I put the leather mittens on, struggling briefly to get their straps secure.
The moment of truth was almost here. Once again, I placed the shiny D-rings onto the hasp of the snaplocks. Now I was only about an eighth of an inch away from total bondage, a bondage I had put myself in for my lover. I would be completely trapped and unable to move or speak until Dan arrived to free me. Even then, he would probably decide to use me like this for awhile before releasing me.
What would he do to me? Of course, my shaved pussy would be a prime target for that thick cock of his. I could almost feel him pressing it against my lower lips, staring into my eyes as he thrust himself into me. Then again, the tack room had a bunch of bridles and leather straps; maybe he would put me even deeper into strict bondage. There were even some small whips in there – would he think of whipping my ass? I had left the KY out; maybe he would whip me then fuck me in the ass? And what about that butt plug? What did he mean if it fell out, I would go to the “next stage”?
Click. Click. Shit.
While fantasizing, I had lost track of my arms, letting them relax and allowing the D-rings on the ends of the mittens to slip into the snaphooks. I was trapped. I pulled at the restraints trying to free my hands but it was useless – the strong leather and steel chain held tightly. I pulled on each ankle, but they, too, were securely fastened to the walls. I had stepped into my lover’s trap and was now indeed his naked love slave.
There was little for me to do in this position other than concentrate on my limited range of motion. A thin rope of drool oozed from the ballgag onto my breasts – there would be a lot more of that before the day was done. I could move my feet slightly, feeling the cool dirt between my bare toes. I could look down the long driveway and follow it’s curve into the distant woods, praying for my lover’s car to appear so that I could be soon freed. I could feel the occasional breeze waft through the barn, cooling the heat between my thighs.
But mostly I struggled to keep that damned butt plug in my ass. I had used a lot of lubricant and that, combined with my spread-eagle position, made it easy for the intruder to try and sneak out. I was pretty sure I didn’t want that to happen until the last minute – I didn’t need another surprise. So the fat rubber bastard would start easing out and I would have to clench my anus and butt muscles to pull it back in, effectively fucking myself in the ass. It was a very stimulating mix of sex, body control, and humiliation. It was fiendish but it made the time go by quicker.
I don’t know how much time had gone by. My ass was tired from the constant struggle with the anal intruder; my mouth was aching a bit from the ballgag; my arms were tired from their upright position and my tits were covered in drool and dirt from the breeze. I was imagining what I would look like to someone looking in the stall door – naked, covered in drool and dirt, restrained hand and foot, and with a wire coming out of my ass. I looked outside and there was a dustcloud above the trees near the driveway! Dan was here to free me!
A wave of relief washed over me, knowing I was safe again, but that feeling quickly changed when the vehicle that appeared wasn’t Dan’s Volvo, but a dusty green Ford pickup with a tarp covered box in the bed!
The emotional change was so sudden, the realization that I was to be discovered by a stranger so shocking, I lost control of my bladder and let loose a stream of pee into the dirt. As if to complete my humiliation, the butt plug pushed halfway out. I fought desperately to pull it back in but my muscles were tired and weak. For every quarter inch I pulled it in, it slid out an inch. As the truck moved out of my sight through the opening of the doorway, I lost the battle and the demon butt plug squeezed through my anus and dropped onto the floor. There was an audible click behind me and the sound of running water. I twisted my head to look over my shoulder and saw a steady flood of water pouring out of the black box onto the dirt floor!
By the volume of water coming out, I judged that it would be only a matter of minutes before the floor of the stall was a muddy mess and, indeed, only seconds later I felt the first cool tendril of water touch my foot. Soon I found myself standing in ankle deep black mud. It felt very cool and sensual as the mud oozed voluptuously between my bare toes. Still, I knew that soon some stranger would find me like this and I didn’t know what would happen. However, I quickly discovered I had another problem that made me forget about the green truck.
As the water filled the stall, turning the soft dirt to mud, I found myself sinking into this mire. As I sank, my legs, which were attached to the walls, were being pulled apart while my arms were being pulled up to the ceiling. In minutes I went from a comfortable standing bondage to an increasingly tight spreadeagle. Any movement by my feet caused them to sink further and spread me open farther. There was nothing I could do – I prayed for Dan, for anyone, to rescue me.
It was at this point that the lights went out. Or more accurately, that the world went black as someone threw a hood over my head. I grunted helplessly through my gag. I could sense my captor moving around me and I thought it was a male but I couldn’t be sure. He unhooked my ankles and helped me to stand up in the cool mud. I heard a metallic ratcheting sound and the tension on my arms began to ease as he lowered them still attached to the spreader bar. Now I felt him pushing on the back of my legs, forcing me gently to kneel in the goop. I obeyed (what else could I do?) and was rewarded by having my mittens released from the bar, pulled behind my back, and locked together to my ankles. So now I was naked, hog-tied kneeling in black muck, ballgagged and hooded while an unknown captor decided what to do with me.
I hung my head in helpless submission to this master. Never having said a word, he responded by releasing me from the head harness, gently pulling the drool-covered ball out of my mouth. I knew better than to talk. He lifted the hood to expose my mouth and I opened it wide, knowing full well what was required of me. I got my wish when he eased a large erect cock into my wet mouth. I don’t know how long he fucked my mouth but, after a while, I used my tongue and lips to get him to come quickly. That he did and as the last drop of his salty come jetted down my eager throat, he pulled the hood off my head.
“Think you’ll bet against
me again?” asked Dan, looking down at me. He was dressed in jeans,
workshirt, and rubber boots. Naked, mud-covered, and hogtied, I looked
up at him as his cock slid from my parted lips.
“Yes, Master, anytime.”
I said, staring into his eyes.
05.09.02