by Budman

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© Copyright 2022 - Budman - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; cuffs; outdoors; punish; torment; pain; 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 27: Farm, Lunch

Gran’s house had a broad porch around three sides with rocking chairs and a bench swing hung from the ceiling. As they reached the porch Fred looked again at Clair’s dirty feet and changed his plan. He was originally going to make Clair kneel on the kitchen floor while he ate lunch. Now he decided she would have to kneel on the porch. Improvising, Fred realized that the railing around the porch had iron spindles. He took the bag from Clair and pulled out the handcuffs. Pushing Clair gently back against the railing he locked one cuff around the ankle that still had the dirty Vet Wrap. These were handcuffs, not leg cuffs and It just barely fit to the first ‘click’. He put the second cuff around one of the iron spindles. Fred realized that if Clair threw her full weight against the spindle, it would probably bend or break out of the 2 X 4 top rail, but he hoped she didn’t think about that. He wasn’t worried about her running away; he was just trying to provide the scene he thought she wanted and needed by controlling her completely.

Fred pointed at the floor and Clair kneeled. He handed her the last water bottle out of the bag and said, “Drink it all,” then he surveyed the lovely sight before him. Dirty, hardly covered in a burlap dress, exhausted and smiling up at him as she opened the water bottle and said “Yes Sir.” It was a mystery how you could love someone so intensely and still get hard seeing them like this.

As Fred looked, he thought, “something is missing.” Then he remembered something he had seen in the tack room when he was looking for the chair. Gran’s departed husband had all kinds of stuff in that barn that Gran had never bothered to sort or throw out. Fred walked back to the tack room and, yep, there were several lengths of chain hanging on nails along with what looked like accessories for the Farm Tractor. Fred guessed these may have been used as a part of the accessories, but he didn’t care. He selected one that looked to be about five feet long and had links just long enough to get a padlock through.

On his way back to the house, Fred picked up a couple of padlocks he had seen in the top of one of George’s old toolboxes. He hoped the keys for these were in the mason jar in the kitchen. He needn’t have worried as long ago George had purchased dozens of keyed-alike padlocks, so he never had to fish for the right key. Fred dropped the chain at Clair’s feet without saying a word as he walked past her into the Kitchen. “Let her think about that,” he thought with a smile as he carried the padlocks into the kitchen. The first key he tried fit and that’s when he realized the padlocks were keyed alike. “Cool!”

Fred went into the bathroom to retrieve his dress shoes where he had dropped them last night. He found Clair, still kneeling, an empty water bottle by her side waiting patiently.

“Good girl for drinking all that water,” Fred said automatically as he dropped the shoes at her knees and picked up the chain. He wrapped one end of the chain around Clair’s neck gently moving her hair as he did so. He considered a layer of Vet Wrap but decided that would be too constrictive around the neck and besides, this chain wasn’t going to be moving or chaffing that much.

Fred wrapped the other end of the chain around the top rail of the porch railing. He made sure Clair had about 2 feet of slack. That was enough to allow her to change her position some and to reach the floor with her hands, but not enough to allow her to stand or to lay down. Fred stood back and looked at his handiwork, and noticing Clair’s pussy peeking out from under the Burlap it suddenly occurred to him to ask, “Clair, do you need to pee?”

At first Clair thought he was going to make her pee, right here on Gran’s porch! But when she looked at his furrowed face, she realized he thought he had screwed up. He should have asked her that BEFORE he got her all chained up. Taking pity on him, she said cheerfully, “Not quite yet sir,” which was true, she was starting to feel the need but was not desperate. She just hoped he got the message that it wouldn’t be long.

Fred relaxed, and yes, yet again he understood his girlfriend perfectly. “Do you see what your laziness did to my good dress shoes last night! Because you were crawling too slow, I had to walk through the mud!” Fred’s words were stern and commanding, but his tone was completely conversational, and he was smiling from ear to ear. “What the hell did he have planned?” thought Clair.

“I expect you to clean every inch of those while I have lunch,” Fred said, “I assume you’ve heard the term ‘spit shine.’”

“Oh Hell No,” thought Clair, “there’s horse piss and who knows what else in that mud, it’s bad enough that I had to crawl through it and then wear it last night!” But Fred had not given her time to even consider a reply, he was gone, already in the kitchen.

Clair stared at the shoes. She couldn't do this. She had to do this. The bile rose in her throat just thinking about it. But she had gotten his ‘church’ shoes dirty. Clair didn’t believe that it was because she hadn’t crawled through the mud fast enough, she had tried her best, that was just Fred’s excuse for dragging her. But she had asked for the shed, talked him into it and as a result his shoes were nearly ruined. She wanted him to know she was grateful for his effort, for how much he loved her, she wanted to be his ‘good girl.” She had to do this!

Clair picked up the shoes and started by using her fingers to wipe off as much of the dried mud as she could. Clair didn’t have long fingernails because it was impossible to keep fashionable nails and play women’s sports. But she did keep them neat and polished. She started digging the dirt out from around the souls and heels anyway. Then she spit on the shoe and tried to clean it that way. It quickly became apparent that wasn’t getting her anywhere. She also realized why Fred had made her drink another whole bottle of water but hadn’t left her another full one.

“Shit,” she thought. Then she grimaced and thought “exactly,” as she raised the shoe up to her mouth and started to lick. It took every bit of control not to throw up. The grit and mud got everywhere in her mouth. After several licks she was sure she swallowed some. She spat and had the good sense to spit through the railing into the yard. Despite drinking water, She barely had enough saliva to get the dirt on her tongue off but not enough to rinse out her mouth. She blanked her mind and just kept licking.

Fred fixed a deli sliced chicken sandwich with some Cheetos and a coke. As he ate, he listened to Clair gagging, retching, and spitting through the screen door. He almost took pity on her. Almost. Instead, as he ate lunch, he planned out Clair’s afternoon and evening. When he was finished, he looked out through the screen door. Clair had licked all the mud off one shoe and was almost finished cleaning the bulk of the mud off the second, but it was obvious, as he looked at the drying saliva on the shoes, that this just wasn’t going to cut it. For Clair, this was a challenging and humiliating task, but Fred really did want his dress shoes clean too!

Fred went searching in Leon’s closet and found a tin of black shoe polish, a brush and a polishing rag. He hoped their permission to borrow ‘anything in the house’ extended to semi personal items like a shoeshine kit. In the kitchen he pulled out one of Gran’s large cookie sheets and a half a bag of uncooked rice. Fred poured the rice into the cookie sheet, pulled up his right pant leg and knelt in the uncooked rice. In one of the porn video’s Fred had watched in the Barn, he had seen a sub forced to kneel in rice. It seemed the model’s reaction in that video was a bit over the top, but he knew that porn models frequently overacted. Fred didn’t want to make another overreach out of ignorance, he was still feeling guilty about the bruises on Clair’s ass. He might beat or whip Clair to create bruises or worse later but when he did it would be intentional and controlled. What bothered him about last night is that he had not intended to hit her that hard. So, he tried the rice himself. Painful but bearable was the verdict.

Fred piled the shoe-shine implements on the cookie sheet with the rice, grabbed a couple of more bottles of water and headed out the door. Clair was just finishing getting mud off the heel of the second shoe. Fred put the cookie sheet on the floor, kneeling in front of Clair as he did so. He took the shoe out of her hand and inspected it then put it on the floor next to the other. 

Handing Clair an open bottle of water he simply said, “Swish and spit!” “Again.” “Tilt Back.”

Clair had never been so thankful for something as simple as water. The grit from the mud was everywhere in her mouth.

Fred poured the remainder of the bottle slowly over Clair’s face, wiping the saliva and mud off her lips and chin with soft loving strokes. He then opened the second bottle of water and poured it down the front of her burlap dress and over her cleavage. About a half of the bottle remained so he handed it to her and said simply, “Drink.”

“Your lovely mouth, although quite talented at other things,” Fred said smiling kindly, “is apparently not very good at cleaning shoes. So, I’ve brought you some more appropriate tools. But there are also consequences for your failure. Rock back on your toes and lift up your knees.”

Fred removed the polish, brush and rag from the cookie sheet, made sure the rice was evenly distributed across the sheet, then slid it under Clair’s knees.

Clair lowered her knees onto the rice. “Owww,” she thought. Then mirroring Fred’s thoughts, “painful but tolerable.”

“Do you know how to properly shine shoes?” Fred asked, sliding the shoeshine tools closer.

“Yes sir,” Clair answered, “my Dad taught me to shine his, when I was just a little girl.”

“Good, because you don’t get off that rice until I can see my face in these,” Fred said pointing to his shoes.

Retreating into the kitchen again, Fred searched the kitchen for something to feed Clair. It was halfway between lunch and dinner time but that was OK, Fred didn’t intend to feed her but twice today. What he found was a can of Dinty’s Beef Stew. When he opened it there was a layer of cold beef grease congealed on top. He dumped the whole can, cold, into Gran’s blender and ran it for several minutes. What came out was a cold, greasy, light brown paste. It looked a lot like what Clair had been licking off his shoes. Perfect. It would give her some energy to make it through the rest of the day and night but would be revolting to eat.

Fred put the stew in a bowl, grabbed a spoon and went back to the porch. He set the bowl on the end of the swing without comment and sat down. He watched Clair for a few minutes to make sure she really did know how to polish shoes. He also noticed how she winced slightly when she had to move, for example to bend over to pick up the polish. It was especially hard on her knees to brush the shoes because it made her whole body move. Her knees had to be killing her. Fred was right, although bearable at first, the longer Clair knelt there the harder the rice dug in. But Clair was determined to get these shoes perfect.

Fred then pulled out his phone and went back to watching bondage pron. Fred did realize he had an almost naked woman chained up near his feet, polishing his shoes. But he could also tell, from her side glances and body language, that his watching and commenting on porn was irritating Clair in the barn.

“Wow, he is actually nailing her tits to that board, what a great idea, I wonder if that fence rail is the right height?” Fred said to no one in particular.

“Oh, it’s bad enough he has her hanging from her ankles but that rock hanging from her throat is turning her face purple. I wonder how long Clair could stand that before passing out?” He continued, making a point of ignoring that she was right there.

“He must be playing with me,” Clair thought, but she also couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have your tits nailed to a fence.

Fred noticed how Clair stiffened her back and sat up straighter and looked down at her breasts when he mentioned nailing tits. “Hmmm, A bit extreme for me,” he thought, “but perhaps I can use it.”

Clair did an excellent job on his shoes, they looked new, and he lavished praise on her, telling her just how pleased he was. Fred leaned over and unlocked the chain from the railing leaving it hanging down between Clair’s breasts. He tossed her the keys and pointed to the handcuffs and pointed at them. Clair loved the way he gave non-verbal commands and simply expected her to obey. She fully expected him to lock the handcuffs on her wrists again only unsure about front or back but instead Fred pointed to the plastic grocery bag on the swing. Clair was confused, to reach the bag she would have to get out of the rice. Fred just kept pointing at the bag.

Clair crawled out of the cookie sheet but instinctively stayed on her knees. She instantly regretted it as rice stuck to her knees and was just pressed in harder as she hit the wood floor. Fred saw her wince and realized what was going on but let her continue until the handcuffs were in the bag and she looked at him to say, “what next?”

“You can sit on your ass and pick the rice out of your knees. Put it in the cookie sheet and gather up the rice that’s dropped on the floor too.”

Clair obeyed. “Scoot up here where I can feed you,” Fred said. “and keep your hands behind your back.”

Fred showed her the contents of the bowl and then started feeding it to her one spoonful at a time. He didn’t say a word during the feeding.

After the bowl was empty and another water bottle consumed Fred remembered that Clair said she was almost ready to pee about an hour ago. He also wasn’t sure the last time she had done number 2 (What, was he three years old, he wondered for a minute?)

“Clair, you may enter the house, use a dish towel to clean your feet before you get Gran’s rugs dirty. After you have cleaned your feet, you may use the toilet in the bathroom. I want you to take the Vet Wrap off your ankle and wrists, wash your hands, face and chest, there is still mud there. Then comb your hair, brush your teeth and be back here, kneeling at my feet, in no more than 15 minutes. GO!”

Fred watched a startled Clair scramble to her feet. She had trouble getting her knees to work, they had been doubled up for so long.

Clair couldn’t help thinking, “What’s going on, is it over? Is he done?”

When she wet the dish rag, she noticed the Denty’s Stew can in the sink and realized that her lunch hadn’t been so gross after all. When she got to the bathroom, she understood how short a time 15 minutes was, so she grabbed her comb and brush before she sat on the john. Multitasking was the only way she was going to get everything done in 15 minutes. The chain hanging around her neck kept banging against the sink and she had to be careful not to let the end fall in the toilet when she sat down.

Fred checked his email, Twitter account, Instagram and kept an eye on the time. In 14 minutes, flat, Clair knelt at his feet and looked up at him. She looked much more human, even in burlap. He bet combing the rat’s nests out of her hair had been a challenge.

Fred looked Clair directly in the eye, leaned forward, took his hands, and cradled Clair’s face and asked, “Do you know how much I love you?”

The question, in her current situation, caught Clair completely off guard. She blurted out, “Well yea, I’m even more in love with you after this week!” Then, after a short pause she realized she had left something important out and she added, “Sir.” Then she looked up at Fred with a look of confusion that clearly said, “what the hell is going on?”

“Clair, I love you too, and I’m amazed and gratified by your desire to suffer for me.” Fred explained.

Clair interrupted, “to be your Good Girl!” she said, hoping to prompt him to use the words that made her stomach flutter.

“Yes,” Fred said, “you have been such a Good Girl! I’ve been trying to meet your needs, your fantasies. In the process I’ve been surprised how quickly they are becoming my fantasies as well. But I have concerns and fears too. Because I love you, I need a ‘time-out’. I need to talk for a bit, no roles, no games, just Clair and Fred for a few minutes.”

“OK,” said Clair earnestly.

“So, why are you even more in love with me this week?” Fred asked.

“Well first of all you have been great with Gran and Leon. Gran thinks you’re amazing and you should probably expect her to ask, before we leave, why you haven’t given me a ring yet.”

“Yea, your Gran doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind!” Fred inserted.

“And” Clair continued, “you’ve bonded with Leon, helping around the farm, learning from him, putting up with his stories.”

“I think Leon’s stories are fascinating.” Fred interrupted again as he rolled his eyes and smiled.

“But mostly,” Clair continued, “I’m amazed at how well you not only seem to instinctively understand my need for dominance and control but how creative you’ve been. I don’t know if you’ve been watching way more bondage porn than I realized or you’re just a natural. But in the future let's watch porn together, OK?”

“I need to apologize for those bruises on your ass, I never realized my belt could do that much damage, I swear,” Fred said looking distressed. “The shed, Cold water showers, forced work, we sorta talked about some of that, but hurting you that much, that was too far.”

Clair was quiet for a minute; she hadn’t realized how much those belt strokes worried him.

“Fred, my love,” she said looking him right in the eye, “you haven’t gone nearly far enough yet.”

Fred sat back in the swing and looked away from Clair.

Clair wasn’t sure if he was thinking “My girlfriend is a pain slut freak” or what but she needed to ask.

“Fred, am I freaking you out? We can stop now if you want," she said slowly.

Fred thought it was funny that Clair was asking him, the Dom, if he wanted to safeword out.

“Clair,” he said, “what if I’m afraid because I’m enjoying this too much.”

“Oh Cool!” exclaimed Clair loudly, nearly causing Fred to jump. Fred didn’t think she was a pain slut freak, he was worried that he was becoming a sadistic freak. Well, she certainly hoped so!

“Fred, I know I’ve never told you just how dark and masochistic my fantasies have become since I discovered my parent’s love of bondage. I guess I was afraid you would think I was weird and break it off. But today has shown me you aren’t afraid. Fred, I’ve gone beyond just a little bondage sex. I need you to break me.”

“What does that mean Clair? Break you?” Fred asked.

“I think it means that I need to feel so helpless, to be hurt so bad and for so long, without hope of relief, that I quit fighting. I quit fighting mentally and physically and just absorb the pain. That I become pain. It’s sexual, but it’s also emotional. A total release of every worry, concern, stress, and pain. Total emptiness.”

“Look Fred,” she continued after a minute of silence, “if this scares you, I completely understand, it scares me too. And I’m not saying you need to break me today or tomorrow. It may be years before we work up to it. And we can have lots more talks and watch and discuss porn together and whatever we need to do. But you must know that you have NOT gone too far this weekend. I love feeling those bruises on my ass every time I sit back on my heels! I have a safeword, Fred,” Clair finished, “and I know how to use it.”

“Now can we please get back to the torture, Gran and Leon get back tomorrow afternoon!” Clair said in mock exasperation.

“Anything else?” Fred asked?

Clair thought a minute and then said “Oh Shit! We really need to check Henry’s water and give him some exercise. I forgot all about Henry.”

Fred realized that he hadn’t given a moment's thought to Henry. The work he made Clair do this morning mucking out Henry’s stall, that wasn’t because he realized Henry needed feeding, he just knew it was the way Gran had to exercise when George put her through their version of the weight loss program.

“Talks over Clair. Thank you. Now, I want you to take these dishes and cookie sheets in the kitchen, wash these and my breakfast dishes, straighten up the kitchen, and make the bed. Finally, I want you to put on the thigh high hose and heels you wore to church, grab two bottles of water, and come to the barn.” Clair headed off to do the chores she was assigned without question, but she did wonder what he was up to. Fred grabbed the plastic grocery bag and headed to the barn.


Continues in

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