by Budman

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2022 - Budman - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; chain; barn; vetwrap; whip; chores; cons; XX

Continues from .

Author's Note: These chapters will make almost no sense if not read in order. If you haven’t, I strongly suggest you go back to the introduction and chapter 1.

Warning, the story is getting even more sadistic. Enjoy.

Chapter 26: Farm, Work

“Time to go to work!” Fred declared as he grabbed Clair’s arm and helped her stand. He opened and handed her a bottle of water from the refrigerator then stepped in Gran’s bedroom to grab a couple of rolls of Vet Wrap and the burlap dress.

“To the barn,” He said as he pointed to the door. The Chinese had it all wrong, why would any man want a woman walking behind him where he could watch a delicious bottom like Clair’s.

Inside the barn was a heavy logging chain that George had used to chain Lou when he made her work in here. Lou had never removed it, so it was just looped over one of the stall walls. Fred found the key for the lock and unlocked the padlock on the end. He gently pushed Clair against the wall and told her to put the water bottle she had brought from the kitchen on top of the stall wall. He then indicated that she should lift her leg. Fred then wrapped several layers of Vet Wrap around her ankle, then wrapped the chain over the Vet Wrap and locked it.

Clair thought, “Fred, it’s not like I’m going anywhere even if I wanted to.” But Clair also knew it wasn’t really about keeping her in the barn, it was about KNOWING that she couldn’t leave the barn, that she was completely under Fred’s control. The thought made her wet. Fred then unlocked the handcuffs completely and put them in his back pocket. He handed her the burlap dress and she put it on. It was at least two sizes too large for her, so it hung on her, showing lots of cleavage and side boob. It was very short, barely covering her ass and smelled of barn dust and sweat. “This dress is SO cool,” thought Clair.

“I’m going to take a shower and have the rest of my breakfast.” Fred explained, “You are going to shovel out Henry’s stall, sweep it, put in a good layer of fresh hay, and fill his feed bag. The chain should be long enough to let you reach everything you need. I also want you to drink all the water in that water bottle before I get back. You had best be finished before I return. If you finish before I get back you can spend the time brushing Henry, I bet he’s used to having nude women as grooms, lucky stud.”

“To help you keep focused on working I’ll let you keep this for me,” and Fred removed his belt, wrapped it around Clair’s waist and buckled it as small as it would go. It was way too large and just barely stayed on top of Clair’s hips. “Let’s hope I don’t need to use it when I get back and inspect. And don’t get my belt dirty!” Fred said as he walked away.

Halfway to the barn door Fred stopped, hesitated then went to a small table on the side of the barn. He picked up a pair of work gloves and returned to Clair.

“Here, put these on, your hands are too soft and lovely to get blisters!” He said kindly.

“Damn,” thought Clair, “this man is a real conundrum, a maddening mixture of sadist, kind boyfriend and sexual god.” Clair giggled at that last thought as she went to get the pitchfork, shovel, and push broom. She had to keep stopping to pull the belt back up on her hips or it would fall to the floor and that accomplished exactly what Fred had hopped; it kept reminding Clair of a belt’s other use.

Fred went back to the house, took a shower, dressed, putting a shirt on this time, then fixed a hearty breakfast. It was almost 11am and he was famished. Even though it was well past breakfast, some toast, eggs, and sausage sounded good to him. Gran always had a well-stocked Refrigerator and Leon’s home-made sausage was outstanding. After eating, he didn’t bother with the dishes, he could make Clair do those later, he wandered around gathering things he needed for the rest of the day. He gathered 50 spf suntan oil, Deep Woods Off, four neatly rolled skanks of cotton ¼ inch rope, several rolls of Vet Wrap, a few more water bottles and finally, a plastic one cup measuring cup from Gran’s cupboard. Fred put all this stuff in a plastic grocery bag that Gran kept for recycling. He hoped Gran would understand his borrowing all the stuff he had commandeered already. He made sure the cuffs were still in his back pocket and the keys in his front pocket. He picked up the single tail whip and stuck the handle in his waistband in the back. On the way out the door he noticed Gran’s candy jar. Gran was very good at sticking to a strict diet, but she did reward herself occasionally with a hard lemon candy. Fred stuck several in his pocket.

Clair had hustled through her assigned chores. She didn’t do it because the belt around her waist motivated her, quite the opposite, she kinda hoped Fred would use it on her ass again! No, she hustled because she wanted to please Fred. She wanted to hear him say “good girl” and know he was pleased with her.

She found the chain was very heavy, so when she moved from place to place It helped if she reached down and pulled the chain with one hand while carrying her tools with the other. But there were times when she needed both hands, like when she was carrying a heavy load of hay on the pitchfork from the bin to Henry’s stall. She was also starting to agree with Gran’s assessment of the burlap dress; damn those jute fibers were tough on the skin, especially the nipples. Clair remembered something from her world history class. In the middle ages they called them “Hair Shirts” and they were used as a form of torture.

When Fred walked into the barn, Clair’s back was towards him, and she was smoothly brushing Henry’s flank. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as he walked across the barn. Her hair was already getting damp with sweat, two light bruises had formed from his belt strokes last night, just visible below her burlap dress, dust and dirt already caked on her feet to the ankles. And that figure, what curves that girl had, even in a burlap dress!

When Clair finally heard Fred, she stopped, turned around and smiled. Fred couldn’t help himself, he smiled back. Then he walked into the stall and made a show of inspecting Clair’s work.

“Good girl,” he finally said. Clair's stomach fluttered. Then Fred reached in his pocket and pulled out one of the lemon candies, unwrapped it and put it in Clair’s mouth. It was just like using sugar cubes to train a horse. Clair felt her cunt twitch.

“Put the brush on the shelf and step out here.”

First, Fred took his belt off Clair’s waist and threaded it through his belt loops.

Then he took Vet Wrap out of the bag and wrapped a few rounds on each of Clair’s wrists.

He took the measuring cup out of the bag and wrapped the handle with several layers of tape. At this point Clair was dying to ask what he was doing, but she kept silent, sure she would find out soon enough. Fred stuck the handle of the measuring cup in Clair’s mouth and told her not to drop it so she clamped down on the Vet Wrap. It stuck to her lips and tongue and was gross!

Finally, Fred spun Clair around and locked the handcuffs on her wrists, over the Vet Wrap but behind her back. When she realized that the Vet Wrap was to protect her wrists, she realized that her ‘kind sadist’ was still in the barn.

“OK,” Fred announced, “This 50lb bag of horse feed needs to be moved into Henry’s feed bin.”

The bag was sitting on top of a hay bale near the door of the barn. Henry’s feed bin was next to his stall near the back of the barn, about thirty feet away. Clair just looked at Fred. Normally, two people would pick the bag up, open the top and dump it in the bin, so what was Fred expecting her to do with her hands behind her back? Then Fred took out a pocket-knife and cut the top of the bag from end to end, opening it up down the length of the bag. It was about that time that Clair realized why she was holding a one cup measuring cup in her mouth.

“I will decide when you get a break,” Fred announced, “I will decide when you get a drink, and I will be the sole judge of if you’re working fast enough because I certainly don’t want this to take all afternoon!”

“Oh,” thought Clair, “now he’s a ‘devious kind sadist!’”

She bent at the waist and managed to scoop almost a full cup of feed and then headed off towards the feed bin. She didn’t know if Fred expected her to run, she sure hopped not because she had to drag her chain as she moved. It was as Fred turned to walk away that she noticed the whip was back in his waistband in the small of his back. “I sure hope he doesn’t expect me to run.”

Fred walked to the side of the barn’s open area and leaned up against a post. “This was going to take a while; he might have to go get a chair.” He thought, but first he wanted to practice.

Before he could do anything else, however, he noticed how much Clair was having to pull on that heavy chain and how much it was obviously hurting. Fred had never heard the concept of ‘good pain’ vs. ‘bad pain’ but if he had, it would have defined this as bad pain. What he did realize quickly was that Clair would not be able to drag that chain for as many trips as Clair was going to make.

Fred really didn’t want to remove the chain; it was too much a part of the scene he had created. And he had intentionally left the key back in the kitchen jar.

Fred looked down at the grocery bag he brought from the kitchen and instantly knew what to do. He pulled out one of the rolled ropes and started uncoiling it and grabbed a bottle of water. He stopped Clair on her third trip, and she was exceedingly grateful. He took the cup from her mouth and made her drink about ½ a water bottle. Then, putting the cup back in her mouth he pulled the chain up to her waist, wrapped the rope around her waist three times looping the rope through one of the chain links each time. The result was that the chain ran up from her ankle to her waist where it was supported by the rope, then trailed off like a tail behind her.

Fred might have simply unlocked the chain from her ankle and locked it around her waist if the key wasn’t in the kitchen, but this was better. It supported the chain, but it also made a lovely sound as it jingled as she walked. Clair resumed moving feed, one cup at a time.

Fred returned to his post on the side of the barn but instead of leaning against it, he took out the single tail whip and started to practice. He wanted to get more of a feel and control of this dangerous looking implement before risking hitting Clair with it. Clair was halfway across the barn, focused on not dropping any of the feed from her cup as she dragged the chain when Fred snapped the whip for the first time. It sounded like a rifle shot and scared both of them. It scared Fred because it took a chunk of wood off the edge of the post. “Holy SHIT, I’m glad I didn’t do that to Clair,” Fred thought.

Just the sudden, unexpected, loud crack scared Clair and she jumped so much that half the feed in her cup bounced out. As she continued back and forth across the barn, she watched Fred out of the corner of her eye. Fred continued to practice, improving his accuracy, and getting a feel for how hard to strike although he was aware that wood wasn’t flesh. As an hour passed Fred got comfortable going right, left and even combinations of strokes crossing back and forth. Although she was getting tired and bored, Clair never once slowed down. Every time the whip cracked against the post, she became just a tiny bit more afraid but she also became just a tiny bit wetter.

Clair later wished she had counted trips but after what Fred knew was an hour, he stopped her to feed her another half bottle of water. Getting her started again with a firm swat on the ass, Fred started searching some of the small rooms in the barn. In what had probably been the tack room he found an old metal chair and carried it back to where he could watch Clair. Fred sat down, laid the whip in his lap and pulled out his phone.

At first Clair thought he was playing games, then she thought he was watching random YouTube videos. She couldn’t hear the audio clearly, but after she heard a few screams, she guessed that Fred was watching some of the more extreme bondage videos. Why had she ever shown him Pain Toy or Gracia? When Fred was sure the audio had her attention, he started making random comments to Clair.

“Wow, you should see how many stripes this woman has on her back! Some of them are bleeding.”

“Hmm, I wonder what it feels like to have a strap hit your pussy like that? Guess, from the way she screamed it hurts.”

“I wonder how many volts those boxes put out.”

“Does Gran have an old Cattle Prod around here anywhere?”

Or as Clair passed close, “Oh, that’s an interesting position, what’s this called?” and he showed Clair the video on his phone. “Oh never mind, I remember, it’s called a reverse prayer position, we should try that later.”

“Surely he knows that I’m not double jointed like that girl!” Clair thought, because she sure couldn’t answer him with a mouth full of Vet Wrap.

After another half hour Clair realized that Fred had pulled his erection out of his pants and was slowly stroking it as he watched porn. Clair couldn’t decide what frustrated her most, that she wanted to be riding that lovely erection or Fred stroking himself while watching other girls being whipped and tortured. He should be focused on how much she was suffering for him.

By 2:00 pm Clair was exhausted. What hurt most, surprisingly, was her back. Bending over to scoop her cup in the bag again and again had her back muscles cramping. But she had slowed hardly at all because she kept seeing that whip in Fred’s lap and remembered the sound of it. She could stand the belt the way Fred normally used it, and she adored when he spanked her with his hand, but that nasty looking whip scared the shit out of her.

She had almost reached the bottom of the bag but now the feed was so spread out across the bottom that she couldn’t get a full cup anymore. She was getting less and less every trip. If she tried to scoop a little bit here and a little bit there, more feed fell out of her cup than she collected on additional attempts. If she could just use her hands, damn it! At this rate, by the time she finished she would be down to carrying two or three kibble per trip.

Although Clair was convinced Fred wasn’t looking at her, in fact he was keeping a very close eye. And he realized she was close to spent. It was time for a less energetic activity. As she scooped a half full cup and started dragging her chain back to the bin, he picked up the feed bag, with its remains, and followed her, dumping the last of the feed in the bin.

“Close enough!” he said. “Time for lunch, well, my lunch,” as he untied the rope around her waist and unlocked the chain from her ankle. Fred inspected both her ankle and wrists. Well, the good news is that the Vet Wrap was doing exactly what he hoped. The bad news was that the tacky stuff had attracted a ton of dirt, straw, and grime.

“Pick up that grocery bag, put the rope in it and bring it with us.” Fred had to stop himself from instinctively adding “Please.”

As they walked towards the house Fred said, “You did a good job on that task, I honestly thought I would have to ‘encourage’ you more.”

And Clair knew exactly what he meant by ‘encourage’. Not for the first time she debated being rebellious, just for a minute, just for long enough to feel that single tail. But for right now it was more important to Clair that she continue to be Fred’s ‘good girl.’ That is why she had pushed herself through the back pain and the exhaustion. Clair was only 19, her body was tough, but that task was harder than she expected. But the day, so far, hadn’t been beyond her ability to cope. And she was impressed and pleasantly surprised at Fred’s creativity. He really was ‘making’ her work. What did Fred have planned next?


Continues in

You can also leave your feedback & comments about this story on the Plaza Forum