Twenty Tones of Red (16 page)

T
he third package was a shoebox and she wasn’t surprised to find a pair of black slingbacks inside. These were much more sophisticated than the plain leather stilettos she’d been wearing for most of the day. Although still high they were much less obviously sexual and again wouldn’t have been out of place on the catwalk or the red carpet of a celebrity party. When she slipped them on and paraded up and down the length of the table it felt fantastic.

The
re was one box left and she went straight back to see what it contained. It was the smallest of the bunch and inside there was a lacy black choker. Because it was wide it had hints of a collar about it, but this was in a soft material and didn’t lock at the back. She straightened it in place then practised walking in the heels again. It was an outrageous outfit and she couldn’t help smiling as she stalked up and down.

There were a few things
she was now desperate to do. It would have been wonderful to wash her hair and apply some subtle make-up and perfume but it was not to be and with no more preparations to carry out she moved to the end of the table and put herself into the basic slave position. Now there was nothing to do but wait. She was once again a slave in service and at the beck and call of her master.

Saturday Night

After about ten minutes James unlocked the door and stood surveying her. She stayed totally motionless in her submissive position and then he came and crouched at her side. He spent a little time brushing her hair off her face and then slipped something around the back that held it in a loose kind of ponytail. Next he pushed something that felt like a swimming cap onto the top of her head and started rolling it down her face. From the smell and texture it was obvious that it was rubber and soon it had covered her eyes and was rolling down to the bottom of her nose. Here he fiddled a little and lined up two small holes in line with her nostrils. He also spent some time pulling her hair flat down at the back of her head where her tangled curls were clearly causing a problem for the skin-tight garment. When he was happy he continued and the hood rolled all the way down until it sat around her neck just above her lace choker. There was a mouth hole but apart from that and the two small perforations around her nose it was tight and featureless. Her eyes were now pinned close and even if she’d struggled to lift her eyelids she wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. With the thick rubber pressing so tight against her ears her hearing was also severely restricted and she could now only really sense dull thuds and vibrations around her.

His warm strong hands pressed at her shoulders and he urged her up onto her feet. Something pressed at her waist an
d she felt a belt being wrapped round her. It was pulled tight and then locked in place. Next some kind of cord was passed down between her buttocks and up between the lips of her sex to the front of the belt. There was a lump pressing at the bud of her clitoris where she guessed there was a knot carefully positioned on the rope. There was still more to come. He fitted her hands into some kind of leather mitten and then locked her fingers to her wrist so that her hands were bent into fists. Her wrists were linked together then connected to the rope that came up from her crotch. Seemingly pleased with his work he put a hand on her back and led her forwards. She had to trust him as she was completely blind but with some gentle steers they moved out of the room and she felt the soft carpet change to the stone of the main building.

As she walked
the main intention of the belt and the rope became clear. She had a natural inclination to want to raise her hands but when she did so it pulled on the rope and increased the pressure against her clit. The delicate fabric on the crotch of her underwear did nothing to protect her from the pressure of the knot and every movement of her body resulted in a sensual friction.

After a short time mov
ing blindly across the flag stones there was the scraping of a chair and he manoeuvred her into a seated position. Reaching out she found the edge of the table with her mittened hands and confirmed her hunch that she was sitting at the dining table. As her hands were tied to the rope she was forced to keep a very upright position and she tried to imagine how she must look. Her posture was that of a prim upper class lady sitting straight-backed with her hands in her lap but she was wearing glamorous underwear and a rubber hood. The overall effect must have been very unusual but also very striking. A slave mustn’t move after being set in place by their master and she stayed perfectly still while she continued to imagine how she must look and what he might do to her next.

After a little while delicious aromas penetrated the small holes near her nose
and she guessed that he was just finishing the dinner. There was some movement around her and the sounds that penetrated her hood suggested that he was laying the table. She found that it didn’t matter how low she held her hands in her lap the crotch rope and its knot pressed relentlessly into her intimate folds. It was intensely erotic and she found herself moving in tiny little wriggles in order to increase the sensations that were rising up from her groin. There was a rattle and something was placed on the table in front of her and she froze. Slaves weren’t meant to take pleasure from their condition and she didn’t want to be caught stimulating herself. After a few more clinks and shakes she felt something brush against her shoulder and guessed that he’d seated himself next to her. What was to follow would be one of the most interesting and intensely sensual meals of her whole life.

The first thing to be pressed to her
mouth was the edge of a glass. She slipped down the liquid and discovered that it was icy cold champagne. The cool liquid snaked down her throat and when it hit her stomach she became aware how hungry she was. She’d eaten very little that day and been put through intense physical exertion.

After the wine
something hard was pressed against her teeth and she tentatively bit down. A beautiful fishy saltiness exploded in her mouth then there was a soft crunch and she tasted something delightfully sour and creamy. She sensed him lean near her and he whispered the words ‘caviar and crème fraîche blinis’ through her hood.

There was more champagne to wash it down and this time he held the glass until she drained it.
It went straight to her head leaving her feeling high and floaty. Alcohol had never hit her so quickly before and she guessed it was because she had so little in her stomach.

Next he left her to
spend a little while feeding herself and she discovered that there was a wicked motive to the entire scene. Something was pressed between her hands but they were so thickly covered that she had absolutely no idea what it might be. He instructed her to eat and she began the humiliating process of trying to get food into her own mouth. Her hands would only come up a little way and when they did they pulled the rope between her legs incredibly tight. She squirmed despite herself and then started to bend her head. She had to lean a long way until the small rubber hole that covered her mouth came near her padded mittens. First she tasted just leather and then found something cold and solid clenched between her bound fists. She pushed it into her mouth and chewed. Boring. It was just a plain piece of sliced carrot. She finished it nevertheless then sat back upright.

No sooner was she back in a comfortable position when something else was put between her mittens. She bent again and the process was re
peated.  This time she got another bite of the amazing caviar and then some more raw vegetables. After a couple of minutes he introduced something new. Her lips and tongue found a deliciously crunchy length of toast with wonderfully rich scoops of pâté on the end that she suspected was Foie Gras. He continued to pass her an assortment of the three types of food and gradually got faster and faster. The process of bending and seeking out the morsels meant a regular repeated pressure on her crotch and he soon managed to create a rhythm were she was rubbing the knot up and down at quite a pace.

H
er senses were being stimulated in so many different ways that she quickly became breathless and lightheaded. She felt as if she was being overloaded with pleasure. There was saltiness, rich savoury and then cold champagne all accompanied by an intensely sensual movement against her crotch. At that moment he seemed to sense her limits and changed the pace. He sat her upright for a brief break and a few mouthfuls of water then made things a little easier. For a while he spoon fed her some kind of soup that she guessed was a lobster bisque and then when she’d sucked down a bowl full he went back to placing the selections into her hands. Occasionally it was the crunch of fresh raw vegetables, then the salty explosion of the caviar on the warm blinis then another mouthful of the crisp toast with the explosively savoury pâté on top. The portions were small, just little mouthfuls interspersed with sips of champagne, but her whole body seemed to glow with the alcohol and the sumptuous richness of the flavours.

             
There was a pause between courses when she was left alone in darkness. From the muffled sounds that reached her through the hood she was aware that he was clearing things from the table and when she was sure that he was far away in the kitchen she lifted her wrists in little tugging motions to create some more gentle pressure between her legs. She felt so sensitised and so totally tingling and alive that it was almost impossible to resist exploring the sensations she could create just by pulling on the rope. She stopped when she heard him approaching and when he’d set down more crockery she felt him come and sit by her side again.

It was time for des
sert. For this course he seemed to have considered the favours extremely carefully so that he was able to increase the sweetness bit by bit. The first few mouthfuls he gave her were small spoons of plain vanilla ice cream. It was obviously very high quality because when she spent time savouring each mouthful she was amazed at how much rich creaminess she could find. Perhaps it was her heightened state of awareness but the flavour seemed to have so many more layers than she’d ever experienced before.

When she’
d swallowed the ice cream a small glass was held gently to her lips and a few drops of an incredibly sweet liquid poured onto her tongue. She allowed it to run slowly around her mouth and then swallowed. It was a dessert wine, she had had some once before at the end of a company dinner and had found it unpleasantly thick and sticky. This was different. Just the single mouthful left a complex tapestry of flavours in her mouth and the first time she understood what she had already always considered to be the poncey judgements of wine critics. There was a taste of sweet grapes, but also something like raisins and even honey and hints of peaches. She was still savouring all the different notes when the next spoon was held to her lips. There was a tiny morsel of a dry and fairly dull sponge and then an explosion of hot liquid chocolate. She swallowed greedily. It was one of her favourite puddings; a chocolate cake that was runny on the inside. He fed her a good five or six mouthfuls and interspersed each one with a sip of the dessert wine.

T
here was a pause when he must have been eating and drinking himself and then came the final course; a handful of small but amazingly sweet ripe strawberries that had been dipped in a thin layer of whipped cream. She sucked and nibbled on them obediently and was rewarded with more of the amazing wine. He left her again but this time he moved into the living area and opened the patio doors.

He came back
and without a word lifted her from her seat and guided her down the room. She soon found herself outside in cooler air with her heels tapping on the stone work of the patio. She guessed she was being moved down the side of the house and then felt her feet touch something on the ground. He moved round her and with some gentle pressure lifted her leg then moved it across something and set it down again. Judging by the pressure on either side of her ankles she was standing astride something the size of a large backpack.

His hands went to her shoulder and to the small of
her back and pushed her downwards. She wobbled a little and then just as she felt she was about to fall her bum settled on something and she found herself in a seated position. There was warm soft leather curving between her thighs and she realised that she was sitting on a saddle.

He
wrapped thick straps around her ankles then pulled them upwards and tied them to something. With her feet held up behind her and she had to lean forward to keep her balance. Her mittened hands nudged against something that she guessed was the pommel at the front of the saddle and she rested her weight against it. With her legs bending behind her she was quite helplessly stuck. She accepted that she was now trapped in a horse riding position and sat and waited for what might happen next.

A couple of minutes passed
then a spoon brushed against her lips. She opened her mouth and discovered something sweet. She took the small chunk and gave it a tentative bite. Layers of chocolate gave way between her teeth and a divine soft truffle filling flooded across her tongue. She moved the rich paste around, savouring the beautiful combination of bitterness and sweetness, then swallowed. Something else was held in front of her; a touch of ceramic was followed by a hot liquid and she took a couple of gulps of strong black coffee. It was much thicker and richer than she normally drank and reminded her of the espressos she’d been served in Milan. The final taste in the trilogy was a mouthful of some kind of liquor, perhaps a brandy or a cognac, that sent a trail of glowing heat down her throat and into her stomach.