From The Bones Out
© BlackTux
The sun beat down oppressively like a burning ball in the summer sky. Sure
its a cliché’, you gonna read or criticize? Smart-alek.
Shirley asked herself repeatedly,
“ Why in the world was she out in this heat?”
Naked no less, well, mostly naked except for various and sundry bondage toys
and leather sandals.
“Thank god for the sandals”, she thought, it was
the only thing making her life bearable at the moment. It was amazing how
much debate was involved with a simple pair of sandals.
Mark stood at the open trunk of the car that formerly
held the bag of bondage toys. He turned the sandals one way then the other
studying them like the were objects left behind by a departing alien spacecraft.
Shirley stood close buy saying nothing, exclusively due to the bit gag in
her mouth. Mark had trussed her up just to his liking. Shiney steel ankle
irons with a sweet matching 18 inch chain, her locking leather cuffs circled
her wrists held together at her waist by a large padlock. A rough cut branch
was thrust between the small of her back and her elbows making her wrists
tight in front of her. The branch scraped and chaffed at her back and arms
each time she moved. The locking posture collar held her head slightly back
while the bit gag and head harness completed her ensemble, for the moment.
There was still the matter of the sandals. When Mark mentioned a picnic that
morning Shirley was rightly skeptical.
“Picnic Huh” she repeated sounding suspicious.
“What’s the catch?” You cant stand 3- star restaurants let alone a picnic
lunch.”
“Au-contrare” ,he said to the window pane,
“Its a beautiful Sunday, we have nothing to do, no one likes to eat more
then you, so we’ll find a spot out in the sticks and relax, what’s the problem?”
Shirley knew there was a problem somewhere down in her gut, but as there
was nothing else down there keep it company she decided to go with the flow.
There was after all, food involved.
She watched as he packed the old backpack, cheese, crackers, a bottle of
red, a bottle of white, double stuff oreos, double stuff oreos? A couple
of sandwiches of unknown denomination and a plastic sports bottle of water
competed the feast. Mark heaved it onto his shoulder with a grunt and smiled
broadly.
“Ready?’
“As Ill ever be.”, the obvious danger obscured by the
promise of double stuff oreos.
They piled into the car all set for adventure. Mark slid behind the wheel,
hands at the 10 & 2 o’clock positions.
“Okay”, he began, “Where too?”
“You don’t know where we’re going?” she asked.
“I gotta do everything around here?, Where
do you wanna go?”
“Well”, she considered for a minute listening
to the oreos Siren song,
“I do some work for the Weavers, and they’re
big-time rich with 200 acres 10 miles west, they’re in Europe and we could
use their fields.”
“Excellent”, he started the car, “They’re way rich, like
they have a Mercedes up on blocks in their front yard?”
“Jaguar, Dear, a Jag.”
“Coo-el”, and they were off like a herd of turtles.
The drive to the Weavers gave Shirley a false sense of security, singing
with the radio, counting the cows, playing 20 questions, erased the sense
of foreboding she had felt earlier. Living with Mark was exciting, but so
was living with a chimp with a chainsaw.
At last they pulled through an open gate amid rolling fields and tall grass.
A man sitting on a tractor stopped his mowing and approached the car as Mark
rolled down the window.
“Help you folks?” he asked folding his work gloves in
one hand.
“ Hi”, Shirley leaned over to speak to him through Mark’s
open window, “I do some work for the Weavers and they told me we could use
their land for an outing if we ever wanted.”
“Well”, he considered rubbing the stubble on his
chin, “They’re outta the country for a while so I guess it’s OK.” “If you
go this way about 2 miles “,he pointed, “Then turn right on the next road
there’s a pond about a mile down that is a good spot.”
“Thanks” Shirley responded with a smile.
Mark headed off down the road in the direction indicated by the bucolic
mower.
“There’s living proof that the toothbrush was invented
in Kentucky.” he said without looking at his passenger.
“How do you figure?”
“Anywhere else and it would have been a teeth- brush.”
They drove in silence to the turn off as Shirley bit her lip. Mark steered
the car onto the side road and under the shade of a large tree.
“Why are we stopping here?”, Shirley asked.
“Good day for a hike, let’s walk to the pond.”
“Oh it’s too hoooooot!”, Shirley whined in her best New
York-ese.
“Well”, Mark began thoughtfully, “You’re clearly over
dressed, so strip.”
Shirley sat open mouthed,
“Strip?, Like naked type strip?”
“Duh”, was his reply as he got out of the car.
Mark stood at the back and opened the car trunk. Shirley stared straight
ahead for a second as the effect of his words sunk in. Finally resigned to
the situation she got out of the car and joined him. There in back she saw
along with the bag of bondage toys a well used riding crop. Mark picked up
the crop and tested it against the air. It made a customary swoosh sound
as it zipped by her. Shirley decided this was the sign to take off all her
clothes and quickly. Which now brings us to the previously named sandals.
After she was naked and caressed by her Master, Mark set to work chaining
her appropriately. Now he stood sandals in hand. He looked down the dusty
rock strewn road toward the out of sight pond. He squinted against the bright
sun before slipping on his Oakleys.
“Hmmmmm”
Shirley followed his gaze down the dusty dirt road, a trickle of sweat ran
down her back.
“If you go barefoot it’ll take forever,” he spoke
to no one in particular, “But you looks soooo gooood like that.”
He stopped himself short and looked at the sandal in his hand again.
“I suppose she could walk in the grass at the side of
the road, hmmm....”
Shirley said nothing as the bit- gag pushed at the corners of her mouth,
she sucked the rubber and swallowed but still managed to drool attractively.
After what seemed forever her Master slapped the sandal into his palm.
“May as well wear them, we can always take em off if it
comes to it, but we can’t put them on if their in the trunk now can we Sugar?”
“Uggggshhhhhff”, was her reply.
Mark bent and slipped the sandals onto her bare feet jingling the chains
of her ankle irons. Shirley shifted her weight trying to get the cuffs to
settle on her ankles more comfortably. He stood and smiled at
her as a steady stream of drool landed on her left breast. Rummaging back
into the trunk he found the back pack that held their picnic. Mark undid
the straps and with great grunting and groaning attempted to attach it to
the bound Shirley.
“I should have put this on you before I tied you up.”
“Uggggshhhhhff”, she commiserated.
Finally, after having her bend at the waist and laying the pack on her back
burro style he managed to secure it to Shirley’s naked frame. Mark snapped
the leather leash to Shirley’s collar and with a sharp tug they were off
at a slow shuffle down the dirt road toward the distant pond.
He walked in front of her almost absently, he swished the crop though the
tall grass that made the dusty road a corridor through the fields. The whine
of the cicadas, the whoosh of the crop, the jangle of chains and shuffling
sandals were the only sound in the heat of noonday. At odd intervals Mark
would drop her leash and bound into the weeds for some un- named exploration.
Shirley didn’t know if she should stop or continue like a good pack mule.
She tried it both ways and never drew a negative response so she concluded
it was her option.
They approached a blind curve in the road that bent down through a clump
of trees to what Shirley hoped was the pond.
“Maybe there’s some Boys Scouts camping out by the water”,
he called back over his shoulder much too cheerfully for Shirley’s liking,
“We can help them earn their anal-sex merit badge.”
The prospect of being rump-wrangled by a bunch of teenage boys did not raise
Shirley’s spirits one iota. At last they reached the top of the curve bringing
to pond into view. Shirley was thoroughly miserable. Her hair was sweat soaked
hanging like seaweed. Steams of salvia ran from her mouth and to top it off
her nose had decided to run. The sight of the pond raised her spirits only
slightly. It was a pretty spot. The pond was perhaps 30 yards in circumference
with a stand of small willows providing cover for a worn wooden picnic table.
A table that told Shirley that people visited this spot regularly. With a
sharp pressure on her leash Mark led Shirley to the shade of the table before
uncuffing her wrists and removing the backpack. He took the bit gag from
between her lips making Shirley massage her jaw comically. Before she could
make herself completely at home Mark slipped the contentious sandals from
her feet pushing her belly down on the rough planks of the table. With
his left hand on the small of her back he soundly spanked her naked behind
with the sandal’s leather sole. Shirley gasped and wiggled shamelessly, each
smack landed before it’s predecessors sting subsided leaving a constant buzz
on her backside. When at last Shirley saw the sandal fly in to the long grass
her feet were kicked apart to the width the ankle irons allowed and she was
roughly taken from behind. His hard cock pounded her while his hips slapped
her smarting ass anew. Finally she felt the spreading warmth inside her as
her orgasm matched his. Placed on her knees to clean his cock she felt contented
for the first time that day.
They ate and drank for an hour or so. Shirley had her fill of double- stuff
oreos and of his cock which she lapped, sucked, and nibbled at for desert.
She lay back on the grass and stared at the sky through the branches of the
covering willow.
“I think you should go back and bring the car here to
get me?” Mark said as he poured himself another glass of wine.
“Is that an order Sir?”, she asked already knowing the
answer.
“Yeah, that’s an order.”
“Yes Sir”, she bent and kissed his warm lips.
Shirley strolled to the car in the late afternoon sun. She carried her sandals
swinging in her right hand as unfettered she ambled in the soft grass beside
the dirt road. The inside of the car was stifling from sitting in the mid-day
sun. She stood at the open door waiting for the air conditioner to take the
edge off the oppressive heat. She dressed from the car trunk where she left
her clothes and with a soft smile of anticipation of the long days discipline
session that awaited
her tomorrow in the loft of her stable steered the car out onto the road
and headed for home.