(c) dino.  April 2000
 

My first camping trip with Samantha had been a wild success.  As I
unloaded the Jeep I thought back to those four days in the park, quite
pleased with myself having pulled it off and making it so enjoyable for
her.  Of course, I quite enjoyed our trip as well.  I left most of the
camping stuff in the garage, hoping to use it again soon, and after
cleaning out the cooler, starting some laundry and fixing myself a bite
of supper, I sat down to eat and go through my messages.  A couple were
from work, asking if I could put in an appearance, one was from my
buddy Mike.

"Hey Jim, where'd you go?  Called a couple times now, just get this
dopey machine.  I'd like to get together for dinner sometime, see that
pretty girl of yours again.  Give me a call.  Bye."

I picked up the phone and called him, but he must have been out, or
busy, and I got his machine.

"Hey Mike," I said.  "Just got back from an awesome camping trip.  Call
me tomorrow sometime."

I did some more cleaning, another load of laundry, and sat down to
answer some e-mail.  Around ten, I called Sam.  "Hi honey, did I wake
you?"

"No," she purred.  "I've been waiting for your call."

"How are you feeling," I asked.  "Still sore?"

"Ya, a bit.  It's these bruises on my wrists that are bothering me the
most.  Might be a few raised eyebrows at work tomorrow."

"Sorry, Sam," I said.  "I shouldn't have let it go so far yesterday."

"Oh Jim, it's O.K.  It was great, having you tie me up to that cliff
like that.  Really nice."

Samantha tied up to that tree sticking out of the rock face, her arms
stretched high over her head, sunlight gleaming off her bracelets.
That lovely vision would be etched in my mind forever.  "I've got a
blouse," she told me, "with sleeves that are a little too long.  Should
cover things up enough so people don't ask too many questions."

"You're great, Sam," I said.

"You're wonderful too, Jim," she answered softly.

"Sam, you remember my friend Mike, from the nightclub a couple weeks
ago?"  When she said she remembered him, I continued.  "He left me a
message, wants to have us over for dinner sometime.  Want to go?"

"Sure, I'd love to."  There was a pause, "Will the twins be there?"

"I suspect so.  Do you like German food?  They probably do the cooking
for him."

I told Sam I hadn't talked to Mike yet and would let her know later on.
She sounded enthusiastic about it, though.  We chatted a little longer
before saying goodnight and ringing off.  All in all, despite
everything that I'd put Sam through on our weekend in the bush, I was
left with the impression that she'd had one of the best weekends of her
life with me these past few days.

Monday morning I started work with a new client who needed a web site
made up.  He'd sent me a rough idea of what he wanted and had attached
some sketches of some artwork he liked.  He needed someone that could
bring his ideas to life.  It was to be an adult oriented site.  Looking
at the crude drawings he'd sent me, I saw his artistic talents were
about as good as mine.  Nil to none.  But I could begin to see an
outline of what he had in mind.  Samantha's talents ran closely along
the lines of what would fit, and I forwarded the sketches along to her
with a note asking if she could improve on the fellow's ideas.  Around
noon, Mike called.

"So Jim.  How'd the 'camping trip' go?"

I could hear his joking sneer over the phone.  Mike wouldn't be caught
dead in a mosquito-infested forest; he went first class all the way.  I
think I managed to sway him a little, as I let out a few juicy details
about my weekend with Samantha.

"No shit, Jim?  So how'd it go?"

"Fantastic.  No major problems at all."

Mike wanted us over at his place Friday night, for dinner.  I asked him
if the twins were cooking.

"You want authentic German food?" he asked.  "Liselle makes a
sauerbraten that's to die for.  See you both at seven, I want to hear
more about this trip you two had."

Around one in the afternoon I decided to call it a day and took lunch
outside in the back yard.  Later on I did some housework, then called
in at the hospital, and got sucked into a meeting next morning.  After
I thought Sam would be home, I called her.  I told her dinner at Mike's
was set for Friday and she asked me what she should wear.  "Wear
anything you'd like," I said.  "Clothing is usually optional at his
place anyway."

I said to Sam that I'd told Mike a bit about our trip.  I heard her
pause, as I expected she would, with the thoughts of someone else
knowing what went on in the woods those days.  "It's O.K.  Sam," I
said.  "Mike knows the score.  We'll probably hear some of his stories
that'll make your toes curl."

"Well, all right," she said.  "If you think it's O.K., then I don't
mind if he knows about it."

I told her about the sketches I'd e-mailed her and asked if she wanted
to try to improve on the guy's ideas a bit.  "Maybe take a couple and
work them up a bit, just a quick thing, something I can send him and
see if he likes it.  Might be a few bucks in it for you."

"All those years taking art courses finally might pay off?"

"I don't know.  Might be a chance to show off a little.  Your work is
really good, Sam.  Other people would think so too, I'm sure."  I told
Sam I'd see her for dinner the next day since I'd be in the city
anyway.

The meeting at the hospital dragged on almost all day and I met her
outside the bank where she worked in the late afternoon.  It was great
to see her again, and after she got into the truck, we kissed
passionately for a moment before I drove off.  At a stoplight, I took
her hand to look at her wrist, at the bruises from her ordeal in the
woods.  They were beginning to fade a bit now, yellowing around the
edges, less purple than before.

"They got me working in the back," she told me, "going through some
records, so nobody has bothered me about them yet.  Nice colours,
though."  She pulled up her sleeves to show me.

"I think we'll try not to let that happen again," I said.  We found a
good fish and chips shop to have dinner in.  Over the meal, I told Sam
a little about my friend Mike.  Mike Barrett studied law at school, but
never went as far as to pass the exam.  At the age of sixteen, he
received a modest inheritance from his grandmother.  Rather than
fritter it away, as most teenagers might do, he started making
investments.  First in stocks, picking a fledgling company seemingly at
random, then watching it take off.  After building up his funds this
way, he moved on to property.

He managed to get in just as the market for real estate was beginning
to grow.  He'd buy a piece of property, or a house or two, then, a year
later he'd unload it at double, sometimes triple what he'd paid for it.
At the tender age of thirty, Mike retired.  His house, in the posh
forest hill area, is said to be valued at close to ten million.  His
legal knowledge allows him to maintain his investments in such a way
that he would never have to work again, if he didn't want to.

"Mike has an interesting sideline," I said to Samantha.  "Remember
Kate, from the bar?  Mistress Natasha.  There are at least a dozen
women like her in the city who run a business where men can go and get
dominated.  But there are not many places that a woman could go to
receive that kind of service.  Say a professional woman, someone of
importance.  A woman in a powerful position, a public figure.  She
couldn't go cruising bars, hoping to bump into a dominant male who
would be willing to fulfill her fantasies and keep quiet about it.  So
Mike provides a service to women who want to be dominated for a while,
to live out a fantasy for a short time, then go back to their regular
lives."

"You're kidding," Sam asked, "Master for rent?"

"Pro-Dom.  Really.  He gets a booking maybe once or twice a month.  All
very professional, very discreet.  He's told me the money's sometimes
fantastic, and of course the work's not that hard.  We'll get him
talking when we see him.  The stories he tells are truly wild."

"How do people hear about him?  Does he advertise?"

"Word of mouth," I said.  "Mostly.  I did a page for him on the net.
Sort of cryptic, but if someone was looking for that sort of thing,
they'd understand.  He doesn't name names, but he's told me some
things.  You would be shocked to hear some of the women who've used his
services."

After our dinner, I took Sam home, to her apartment.  I wasn't going to
go up, but she insisted.  Not that strongly, but I couldn't refuse.
First we had coffee, then I asked to see her marks from the whippings,
to see how well they were healing, you know.  Then, when she was naked
and standing before me, I began to touch that lovely body of hers that
I now knew so well.  One thing led to another.  And that led to
something else.

It was close to midnight before I got out of there, us both feeling
quite satisfied.  Sam's case of "sunburn" looked still very red, but
she wasn't hurting as much any more, at least.  Her bum, where I'd
whacked her the most, was rather colourful with the lines and bruises.
I knew she'd derived much pleasure from the three sessions during the
trip, but seeing her all marked like that made me feel kinda low.  If
her beautiful skin didn't regain its former unmarred glory, I would
never be able to forgive myself.

Friday evening I picked her up for our dinner date at Mike's.  She came
out wearing a slinky little black dress, short.  Bare legs and strappy
high heels completed the outfit.  She'd done her hair in a long braid
down her back.  As we walked down the hall to the elevator, I fell back
to watch her braid swish back and forth as she moved, the end gently
patting each cheek of her bum, curling underneath, caressing her.

Samantha was suitably impressed as I wound through Mike's neighbourhood
with its huge mansions, high stone walls, and professionally manicured
gardens.  The ornate iron gates to his driveway stood open and I
wheeled in to park in front of the house.  Pretty much only the
exterior of the place remained original, with the grey granite stone
towering three stories over us as we walked up to the door.  Mike had
picked the place up for practically a song back then, back taxes owing
or something like that.  The house needed work, and work it had got.
The inside had been completely redone with only the outside reminiscent
of thirteen thirteen Mocking Bird Lane, right down to the door
knockers; big brass rings held in the mouths of ghouls' faces.  Rather
than Herman Munster, we were greeted by Lisa, or Liselle, one of the
twins, and shown inside.

"Good evening Sir, Madam.  Would you like to follow me, please." It was
Lisa.  I'd read her name engraved on her collar.  She was wearing an
outfit straight from a German beer garden, almost.  I didn't mind
following her at all, when she turned around I saw that the outfit was
backless, held on her by thin straps at the neck and around her waist.
Samantha's stilettos echoed on the marble floor.  Mike knows me all too
well, my tastes.  Lisa was barefoot.

We passed through the house and into the library, where our host sat
with Liselle, dressed the same, cuddled close beside him.  They stood
when we entered the cosy room and Mike came to greet us, shaking my
hand warmly, his eyes on Samantha.

"Great to see you two again, come, sit down."

I took a chair near Mike; Sam sat on the sofa, while the twins fixed a
round of drinks.  They passed out the glasses and sat with Sam, one on
each side of her.  The twin's fair complexion and blond hair contrasted
with Samantha's dark brown hair and her skin, which was slightly tanned
from our recent trip.  The talk was general, but not for long.

"So," Mike said, "Jim told me a little about the trip you two had last
weekend."  He speared Sam with those black eyes of his.  "Tell me
more."

Mike would have been a great lawyer if he'd gone on with it.  He was a
good friend, kind as well as generous.  But he had a force within him,
a driving force that, when he cranked it up and directed it at someone,
you'd become powerless to resist his will.  I'd seen him with a car
salesman once, by the time he'd finished, the guy was almost willing to
pay Mike to take the car away.

Sam started talking about the trip, the nice weather, the swimming at
the waterfall.  Mike was using that voice of his, asking questions,
directing her thoughts.  I could feel Mike's dominant force field
beginning to envelope everyone in the room.  The twins had sensed it
first, looking towards their master, becoming alert for changing moods.
Samantha had dropped into submissive mode, hearing the power in Mike's
tone, feeling it somewhere deep inside of her.  She filled in a few
more details about the trip.

"And what happened next, Samantha," Mike prodded, or, "How did you feel
when..."

Mike looked at me a couple times, getting permission to continue the
interrogation.  I was going to put a stop to it, let Sam off the hook,
but I saw she was getting into it, re-living those hours of such
intense passion that we'd had, and I let it continue.  The twins were
starting to get hot too, hearing Sam tell what went on in the marsh, on
that cloudy afternoon.

"What were you thinking about when Jim left you alone tied over that
boulder, were you frightened?"

Samantha revealed, speaking as if in a dream state, her most private
feeling about what she'd experienced during our trip, thoughts that
even I didn't know she'd had.  Mike was in full Dom mode, in control.
Sam had been more worried about the bears than I'd thought, she told
us, and about being seen in bondage in a public place, that had turned
her on plenty.  Mike looked my way again and I made the kill sign,
enough.

In a lighter tone of voice he spoke, collapsing the field that had
gripped Samantha.  "Well it sounds like you two had a great time."
Just like that, we were back to five friends having a nice before-
dinner chat.  Sam popped back into the here and now, seemingly unaware
of what had just taken place.  Mike asked his girls to see to dinner
and graceful as always, they stood and headed for the kitchen.  I
crossed over to sit on the couch with Samantha.

"You know," I told Mike, "we might take another trip up north this
fall, spend a week in the wilderness.  You and the girls should come."

Mike declined, as I knew he would.

"Sleeping on the cold ground?  No thanks.  I'll stick to my nice warm
bed and the well-stocked fridge.  Sounded like you two had fun,
though."

Mike started telling us about a job he did for someone recently.  This
past weekend he'd had a client, a well-known Hollywood actress, he told
us.  It wasn't too long before we were called to dinner by the lovely
Liselle, and we were seated at Mike's big oak dining room table as he
continued the tale.  The twins took turns serving while we listened to
Mike's latest escapade.

"She flew in from L.A. last Friday," Mike said.  "Wanted a rape scene.
Money was no object, she'd told me, so I kinda went all out.  I set it
up like she was a tourist in another country, China, since I could use
the Chinatown area as a backdrop.  Hired a limo with an Asian looking
driver, two Asian girls from an escort service as maid and cook,
housekeeper, like that.  Guy picks her up at the airport, drives her
through downtown.  Then here.  Did the house up like a high-class
hotel, rented a big desk for the lobby and everything.

"So she spends the night here.  I didn't tell her when it would happen,
and she said that had been a big part of the excitement.  Next morning,
Saturday, she has breakfast here, then the driver takes her back to
Chinatown.  He knew the area well.  Took her around, did some shopping,
had lunch.  Only a couple people recognized her, she said, so she
wasn't bugged by fans.  You know the area, just like being in downtown
Kowloon.

"Comes back here late afternoon, has dinner.  I told the crew to split
around eight.  The girls and I were here, waiting for the right time.
Around nine we sneeks down the back stairs and into the kitchen, like
we broke in the back door.  I had a window I'd pulled from someone's
trash, spent enough already, I wasn't gonna bust one of mine.  So we
make a big noise, smash the glass.  Client comes runnin' down and into
the kitchen.  Lisa snaps on the lights, and that's when I grab her.

"I let her get a good look.  I'd dressed up like a girl's worst
nightmare straight from hell.  Had the twins wearing black cat suits,
pointy ears and all.  I spin her around and cuff her hands behind her,
then stick duct tape over her mouth.  The walls are thick, but I don't
take chances.  Last thing I need is attention being drawn here.  Not
just for me, but for the client's sake too.  Anyway, the girls and I
haul her upstairs to her room.  We blindfold her and get her naked,
tied spread eagle, face down on the bed.  Then I let the girls have a
go while I sat and watched.

"These two lovelies," Mike bowed to the twins in turn, "really gave the
client a run for the money, surprised even me.  The lady said she
wanted it rough, and rough she got.  When the girls were done, it
became my turn.  The lady had chewed through the tape gag by this time,
but her face was in the pillow so it didn't matter.  Lisa greased her
ass, and my cock, then I gave it to her.

"If I told you her name you'd say, "No way, Mike!"  You can never tell,
the people into this kind of stuff.  I pounded her bum for maybe twenty
minutes before we flipped her over and I fucked her cunt.  The girls
were all over her too.  She was too weak to struggle much by then."

I watched Sam listening attentively as Mike finished the tale.

"When I was done I cut the ropes and we disappeared.  We were upstairs
in one of the rooms and I had a camera mounted in her room with a
little monitor to make sure she'd be O.K.  She got herself untied, then
just lay there for a while with this big smile on her face.  She took a
shower, then passed out for the rest of the night.  I could hear her
breathing so I knew she was all right.  Next morning we all met up over
breakfast downstairs.  The lady was very satisfied with the service
we'd provided and I drove her to the airport in the afternoon.

"So that was that," Mike finished up.  "The client was quite pleased
and said she'd call me again sometime.  She said she might have some
friends to send my way too."

"Wow!" Sam said

"Nice work if you can get it," I said.

"Tough job, but somebody's gotta do it," Mike added.

The meal was superb, starting with a delicious chicken soup, followed
with Liselle's famous sauerbraten beef and melt in your mouth potato
dumplings.  A light salad followed, then dessert, a nice, flaky apple
strudel.  After dinner, we retired to the living room for drinks and
coffee.  Sam kicked off her shoes, the twins, after cleaning up, joined
their master naked, kneeling beside his chair.  Sam and I cuddled on
the comfy sofa, the atmosphere of the room, relaxed.

"So, Jim," Mike asked, "This canoe trip in the fall, any plans?"

"Well," I said with a grin, "the trees are lovely that time of the
year.  We might collect colourful leaves and make a scrap book."  Sam
gave me a playful elbow in the ribs.

"If you don't mind me saying," Mike said, "Samantha, I have a feeling
it was the part about being chained up and helpless that seemed to turn
you on the most."

Sam thought for a moment, then said, "I liked it a lot when Jim would
start smacking me with something, but I don't think I'd enjoy it for a
whole week.  I'm still pretty sore in spots."

Mike suggested, "Why not try for a period of time in permanent bondage
of some kind.  Something that you could move around in, but can't get
out of."

"I'd been thinking along those lines," I said.  "The whippings went
well, but I can't do that very often.  Seeing your skin marked up like
that, Sam, after I was done, it just didn't seem right."

"These two," said Mike, patting the heads of his girls, "like to tie
each other up.  Once, I came home from a trip and they'd chained
themselves up in the dungeon.  They'd been stuck like that for two
days.  I warned them that if I had been delayed for some reason, they
could have been in big trouble.  Liselle here has spent thirty days in
the cage once, Lisa nearly twenty."

"The cage?" Sam asked.

"Downstairs," Mike said.  "In the dungeon.  Would you like to see it?"

I've seen Mike's secret room downstairs, a true work of art.  Built
when the conservatory was replaced at the back of the house, a huge
excavation, and solid foundation for the greenhouse above.  Lisa led
the way to the door in the hallway, downstairs, and through the rec
room with the big screen TV and the state of the art music system.  On
the far wall, a classic piece of engineering.  Lisa tilted one lighting
fixture on the wall, Liselle did the other.  A center panel dropped
inwards, then was slid aside on noiseless runners.  Five more steps
down to a heavy wooden door, banded with old looking iron straps.  Mike
took a large key down from a hook, fitted it into the door, and turned
the lock.  Lisa went inside to switch on the lights.

This was no cold, damp basement room.  The floors were dark stained and
highly polished hardwood, the concrete walls faced with reddish
coloured brick.  Heavy iron staples protruded from the walls in various
places.  The ceiling was the cement slab of the greenhouse floor,
painted black.  Pot lights shining downward gave the impression that
the height of the room was much greater than the actual eleven feet or
so.  The air in the room was warm and smelled fresh, inviting.  A rack
on one wall held articles, ready for use.  Mike had a few nice pieces
of furniture, some looking new, some, ancient, but in perfect
condition.

I let out a surprised snort when I realized that there were two of a
few pieces: two padded benches, two St. Andrews crosses mounted side by
side.  Mike caught me looking.  "Yes," he said, "I added a few things
for the twin's enjoyment."  I could picture it; the padded sawhorses
were placed end to end so the girls could watch each other as Mike
worked on them.

I took Sam's hand as we walked through the room.  I could feel the
tension in her.

"This room is amazing," she said.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing to excess.  Right Jim?"

"And why not?" I answered.

The cage stood, or rather, squatted in one corner.  Low tempered glass
panels surrounded an area with the bare concrete floor showing.  The
cage was formed from square steel bars, about an inch in thickness and
spaced perhaps six apart.  The dimensions of the cage looked to be a
little under three feet wide, three feet high and four feet long.  It
was solidly bolted to the cement floor and a piece of carpeting on the
bottom provided meagre comfort for an occupant.  Samantha stood
transfixed, staring at the thing.

"It's perfect for long term use," Mike told us.  "Things can get messy
after a while but there's a drain and a hose for washing everything
down."

A small table nearby held several attachments; shackles and bars that
could be clamped to the sides of the cage.  Lisa opened the end of the
cage, Liselle stood near Samantha.  Sam looked like she wanted to say
something, but was hesitant to do so.  I gave her the push that we were
all waiting for.

"Would you like to try it out?" I asked her.

She smiled.  "Yes, please."

Liselle, speaking without permission, but Mike let it slide, suggested
that Samantha take her dress off before entering the cage.  "Yes," I
said, "You'd be more comfortable and your dress wouldn't get all
wrinkled."

I lent a hand, pulling down the zipper and helping her off with her
dress.  She wasn't wearing a bra, but had black panties on.  Sam caught
my look, then bent to remove them, giving the twins a look between her
legs.  Liselle noticed them first, Samantha's labia rings.

"Master!" she exclaimed to Mike, "She h..." Liselle caught herself, but
it was too late.

"What?!" Mike snapped out, now annoyed with the girl's impertinence.
Mike moved closer, but when he caught sight of Sam's rings his mood
softened.  He looked a little closer while Sam stood red faced.

"Very nice, Samantha," he said.  Then, speaking to the twins, "Girls.
Prepare the captive."

Steel shackles were expertly applied to my Samantha's wrists and ankles
by the eager twins, as she stood, trembling slightly from the
excitement that had built up in the room.  Lisa helped her to kneel and
crawl into the tight confines of the steel cage.  Sam's arms and legs
were positioned within, her arms to her sides and her knees under her
chest, then the shackles were clamped to the bars.  The door was swung
shut with a loud and final sounding clang.  Mike stepped towards the
cage.

"There are several other attachments," he informed Samantha, "that go
with this apparatus."

He picked up a bar from the table.  Mike looked towards me before he
began, seeking my approval to touch his cage with its precious
contents.  I smiled, and he continued demonstrating the effectiveness
of the device.  He slid the bar into a bracket in the side, under
Samantha's elbows and over her back, pinning her arms firmly in
position.

"There's a bar with a penis gag for the front," he explained to Sam,
"and a similar one for the rear."

Mike slid a bar in behind her, just under her bum, just barely touching
her.  He smiled.

"Those rings of yours could come in handy here," he said to her.  Mike
reached into the top of the cage and lifted Sam's long ponytail out
through the bars.  He wrapped it around a bar, drawing Sam's head up a
bit.

"Very nice," he murmured.

I watched the twins watching Samantha inside the cage.  I could see
that they knew all too well what Sam was feeling right now.  Sam had
been in the cage only a few minutes now, but already I could see signs
of her arousal.  Mike had said that Liselle was in there for a month
once.  I asked her if that was thirty days without a break.

"Yes Sir," she stated.

"The full deal," Mike said proudly.  "We only took out the gag bar so
she could eat."

I asked her, "How was it, Liselle.  Did you enjoy it, all that time?"

"Yes Sir.  I was very aroused most of the time.  But I was quite sore
at the end, from being cramped up in there."

Mike said, "Lisa tried it but her feet kept cramping and causing her
awful pain.  She's been doing leg exercises though, and is looking
forward to breaking her sister's record."

We left Sam in there for a few minutes longer, then I opened the cage
and the girls helped to release her.

When she was freed and she'd dressed again, she turned to Mike.  "Thank
you sir.  I enjoyed that."

"We'll have to have you back someday," he said.  Have the girls give
you the full treatment."

We left the dungeon to head back upstairs for a nightcap.  I don't like
to drink when I'm driving, but I had a small one.  The evening had gone
so well that it called for one.  Mike raised his glass and we toasted
the three lovely girls.

Later on, Sam and I said our goodbyes and we left Mike's house.  When I
pulled out onto the street I asked Sam if she'd like to go to my place.

"But I don't have anything to wear," she said with a grin.

"I think I could find you something," I answered.

"Your friend Mike is quite the character."

I laughed.  "Isn't he, though?  How did you like his dungeon?"

"It's gorgeous," she said.  "That cage was something else.  Imagine
spending a month locked up in there?"

"Tell me, Sam."

She was silent for a moment.  "I was only in it for a short while.  But
I felt so, so held, you know?  Like a big hard hug.  Mike slid that bar
under my elbows and everything seemed to get tighter all over.  When he
put the other bar in, behind me?  I nearly came right there.  It was so
awesome, thinking of being like that for hours, days."

Doing what, I thought to myself.  Wouldn't it get kinda boring?  "Would
you like to try it for longer sometime?"

"Oh yes, Jim," Sam said.  "If your friend doesn't mind, I'd like that."

"I'm sure he could "fit you in" someday."

It was late when we got to my house but we weren't tired, so I made
some tea and we sat and talked.  We started to discuss the upcoming
trip we'd planned, what we'd do.  Mike's suggestion for some kind of
long-term bondage seemed like something Sam would like to do, and it
would be something that I'd enjoy a lot too.  I asked her how she felt
about it.

"Last weekend on the trip, when you'd lock chains on me and the keys
were back at camp, it was nice.  Neither of us could get me free then."

"I've got those leather cuffs," I said, "but I could cut them off you
if I wanted to.  Something more permanent would be good, I think.  We
could go in the north end of the park this time, there's nothing but
wilderness there.  Miles of it.  If we take a side route, we'd probably
not see anyone else for the whole week.  Find a little island out on a
lake someplace, call it home."

I had Sam get undressed and we went down to the basement.  In a box in
the workshop, I found some lengths of chain and a few locks and we
spent some time trying different ways of chaining Sam up.  The most
obvious place to start was with her hands chained with a bit over a
foot of chain between, like those bracelets she had.  I found a piece
of chain the right length and put it around one wrist, then locked it
on her.  I did the same with the other end.

"That's sort of like those bracelets you have, except you can't get
this off," I said.

A good start, but I felt more was needed.  I pulled out another length
of chain and found two more locks.  This one went around her ankles,
again, a little over a foot of chain between her feet.  I'd sat Sam on
the workbench to do this, and I lifted her down to let her stand.  She
walked around the room a bit, the chain tinkling on the floor.  I tried
a couple pieces of chain of different lengths to determine what worked
best.  She went up the stairs, came back down, I made it shorter and
she tried it again.  When we were both satisfied, I took some
measurements, marked a couple links with black tape, and we called it a
night.  Sam did have a bit of difficulty negotiating the stairs on the
way up since the chain between her ankles was rather short.  I'd
settled on just under ten inches.  But I told her there'd be no stairs
in the bush.

"Besides," I said, "if there's too much chain dragging, it'll get
snagged on roots and rocks as you walk."

The chains didn't match and the locks were awkward, banging around
against her anklebones, but I told her I'd go to the hardware store on
Monday and find something nicer.  I already had something in mind, and
seeing Sam ahead of me, shuffling down the hall to my bedroom, I was
pleased with the effect.  After we'd finished in the bathroom, I undid
her braid and brushed out her lovely hair, then we went to bed.  Her
chains presented little impediment to a wild session of lovemaking.  Me
on top was no problem.  Her straddling me with her feet pulled close
together and the chain tight across my thighs was a bit awkward, a
little painful for her too.  We switched back again to her on her back,
me on top, her feet on either side of my waist and the chain stretched
across my tummy.  Sam's third orgasm managed to trigger mine, and I
relaxed down on her as I blasted a big load inside her, crushing her
knees into her chest, my face inches from hers, telling her how
wonderful she was.

I remember hearing Sam's chains rattling when she went to the bathroom.
A dull sounding clanking.  Either a bright tinkling, I thought, or
hardly any noise would be better.  I must have heard her come back
because it stuck in my mind, being able to hear her moving would be
best, and a gentle tinkling, as of silver bells would be nice.  Sleigh
bells?  Ponies?  Sleep took me into its gentle embrace.

When I woke the next morning it was to the sound of birds twittering,
or so I thought.  A gentle tinkling sound in my ears, and something
else, a nice feeling.  I opened my eyes to see Samantha sitting on the
bed, her hands on my cock, gently stroking it.  Her chain was clinking
on my belly.

"Morning, master," she said, "did I wake you?"  With her sweet pale
blue eyes full upon me, she lowered her head to take my length into her
mouth and begin licking and sucking on me.  I moved my hand to feel her
leg, sliding my fingers down her calf to her ankle and feeling the
chain around it.  Sam shifted a little to bring her foot closer and I
started to massage it, pushing my fingers between her toes and pressing
my thumb along her sole.  My fingers would always stray back to the
chain around her ankle though, tracing around the hard links and
slipping underneath to feel her soft skin.

Samantha had got me as hard as I was going to get, so I had her lay
down on her side and I snuggled in close behind her.  Taking my cock in
my hand, I guided it into her warm, wet pussy, then slowly pushed its
length up inside of her.  Sam let out a squeal of pleasure and began to
press her bum harder onto me to get more of me inside her.  I gathered
up most of her hair in one hand and held her head firmly in place as I
hooked a leg through her ankle chain and dragged her feet closer to me.
Then I began to bang harder into her, bucking my hips to drive my cock
deeper and deeper into her with each thrust.  Sam started her moaning
and loud cries of ecstasy, but now we were alone and she could let
loose by making all the noise she wanted.

She came quickly, grinding her bum against me and howling loud and long
as her orgasm held her in its grip.  I yanked hard on her hair to
unclench her cunt and bring her around, then I started pumping into her
again.  I could feel it starting to build within me as I wound her hair
around my hand and, holding her firmly, I began to cum.  The light
started to dim as my first shot of jism blasted into her.  I rolled
over onto my back, taking Samantha with me, as another blast pumped
into her.  I released her hair to place both hands on her shoulders,
raising her up a bit and pressing her body down harder onto me as my
cock erupted another stream of boiling hot cum into her.

We finished with us both sitting up, her on top of my lap, my arms
around her waist, the chain between her hands held tightly in mine.  I
nuzzled the back of her neck and rolled her hips around on me while my
cock shook and twitched inside her tight, slippery channel, wetness
seeping past and feeling all squishy against my thighs.  Sam had a
towel handy which she must have brought from the bathroom last night
and when I collapsed breathlessly back onto the bed she rolled off me
and took care of the mess.  She lay down beside me facing away from me
with the towel between her legs, the other end around my cock.  She
raised up her head when I put my arm around her and we lay together in
the quiet of a Saturday morning, her bum snuggled against me, my hand
on her breast.

Sam wore the chains all morning and part of the afternoon.  I made the
coffee and she made us pancakes for breakfast, I cooked burgers on the
barbie for lunch.  We spent a lot of time sitting around in the back
yard, naked most of the time, since I had no nosy neighbours for miles
around.  Sam tried swimming in my pool with her chains on and managed
to do quite well.  When she stopped paddling she'd quickly sink down to
the bottom, but I told her that the water in the lakes of the park was
usually ice cold in the fall so we'd probably not be swimming much
anyway.

We talked about what she could wear for the trip.  The poncho she had
worked well and with a thicker tube top she'd be all right if it got
cold.  She said she had a long skirt, since with her feet chained,
shorts or pants would not be very useful.

"We'll go on a shopping trip sometime," I said, "get you some more
clothes for the trip."

In the afternoon, I called to book tickets at a high school theatre in
a nearby town.  They had a comedy troupe doing a show there.  We had a
nice long soak in the hot tub, then I took Sam's chains off and we
dressed for dinner and a show.  Sam only had her little black dress and
her heels, and she looked gorgeous.  Supper was good, the show really
funny, and we got back to my place around eleven, or so.

Sunday morning we were sitting around, wondering what to do, when I got
a call to go in to work.  Somebody's printer wouldn't print, or some
such crap.  Nevertheless, duty calls, so I took Samantha home before
driving over to the hospital.  Sam showed me the sketches she'd done,
the ones I'd sent to her from my possible client, and I took them with
me.  She'd really made the guy's ideas come to life, I told her.  When
I got back home, I scanned the images and sent them off.

The following week I checked out a few hardware stores and building
supply places, looking for some perfect chain.  I probably looked like
an idiot, holding chains up to my ear and shaking them, searching for
the right pitch of sound.  I bought some that might do, and then I
remembered something Sam had said about the bracelets she had.  She'd
found them in a marine supply store.  I went to a couple and finally
found what I was really looking for.  Smooth, close links, two sizes,
one, a little bigger than the other.  Nice, gentle tinkling sound.
Perfect.

The only problem was that this chain was made from high carbon steel
and had been hardened.  I found this out when the guy cut off pieces
for me and had to use a power grinder to saw through the links.
However, feeling the almost oily smoothness of the links, I knew it was
what I wanted.

At another place, I bought four quick links.  Quick links are a chain
link with an opening and a long nut that screwed across to close the
link.  Since it was a nut, a wrench could lock it up tight, and it
wasn't heavy or awkward like a padlock would be.  Two of one size, two
a little smaller, and in the parking lot I tried them in the chain to
make sure that they fit, and that they looked good.  I also picked up
four new padlocks.  I could have got four with the same key, but
fumbling with a bunch of different keys can sometimes be fun too.

I could hardly wait for the week to end, and on Friday, I picked Sam up
from work and took her to my place.  On my bed, I showed her the bonds
she'd be wearing for our week in the bush.  I could see she was getting
excited as I wrapped one end of the smaller chain around her wrist,
slipped the quick link through, and after checking that the chain was
neither too tight or too loose, I spun the nut closed.  I used a
screwdriver and a wrench to snug up the link.  I counted the links
around her wrist, then did her other hand.  The process was repeated
for her ankles, using the chain that was a little thicker.  While I
chained her, I told her of my plans.

"I think we'll put these chains on you right at the beginning," I said.
"We'll tighten these links down, then I'll leave the tools in the
truck.  There'll be a couple short portages at the start of the trip,
and one long one, but you can wear boots and thick socks so your ankles
don't get rubbed too bad.  After that, you probably won't have to do
much walking."

Sam asked, "So these chains are going to stay on for the whole week?"

"Yes," I said, "that's the general idea."

I had Sam put her feet through her wrist chain so her hands were behind
her back.

"I've got four locks," I went on.  "After we've passed the long
portage, when I feel we won't be bothered by other people, I'll stash
the keys in some place, under a big rock or in a tree somewhere.  When
we're settled at our final camping spot, and after a day or two, I'll
start putting the locks on you."

I slipped one lock through the chains at her wrists and clicked it
closed.  Samantha's hands were now stuck behind her back.  I could see
the effect it was having on her, as the realization dawned on her.

"How am I going to do anything like this?" she asked.

"I don't know," I answered.  "I guess I'll be doing everything.  I
might lock your feet together first."

I used another lock to lock the chains around her ankles together.  I
had her lay on her front, then I locked the loose chain between her
hands and feet together, pulling her feet up close to her hands and
clicking the lock closed.

"By the end of the week," I said, "this is how you'll be.  I might not
make the hog tie so tight, we'll see how much trouble you give me."

Sam was getting hot now, squirming around on the bed, struggling a bit
in the chains.  The links lay evenly around her wrists and ankles,
spreading the force around without pressing uncomfortably against her.
"You said you had four locks."

Very good my pet, I thought.  I showed her the rubber bit gag, the
leather straps replaced by a length of chain.  Sam gasped, then smiled
widely.  I pushed the bit gag into her mouth and locked the chain
behind her head.

"This is how you'll end up, Sam.  The gag should be the last thing, I
guess.  It would be hard to eat with it on.  On the last day I'll pack
everything up, load the stuff and you in the boat and we'll go find the
keys to let you go.  Like it?"

"Mmmm Mmmmm."

I took that for a yes.  I had to put a towel under her head to stop her
drool from soaking my bed.  After I'd stirred her up some, I had to get
another towel for her other end.  Her pussy juices were flowing freely
by the time I finished.  Fucking was pretty much impossible with her
trussed up like that, but I used my hands and mouth on her, driving her
wild with passion, and I made her cum several times, just sitting back
and watching her shake and writhe in her chains.  I left Sam laying
chained up on my bed while I went and called for a pizza.  It wasn't
until it was delivered that I released her; the locks anyway, her two
chains, I left on her.

Sam spent the entire weekend at my house, naked and with her hands and
feet chained.  The one between her hands she was mostly used to since
she had her bracelets with the connecting chain and had told me she'd
worn them practically every night.  I would have thought having her
feet chained so close would take some getting used to, but she
surprised me by quickly adapting to the hobble, taking short, careful
steps at first, then, as the weekend progressed, becoming more and more
confident in moving around and doing things with her chains on.

Friday night I used two locks to connect her hands and her feet
together, Saturday night I gave her the full treatment, making the hog
tie rather loose but locking the bit gag tightly into her mouth.  On
Sunday morning, we tried letting her eat and drink something with the
bit in, water at first, then some soft cooked eggs.  It was a little
messy, and she choked once or twice, but when I went to remove her gag,
she'd shake her head, determined to try it again.

"Take the gag home with you," I said, after she'd cleaned herself up.
"See if you want to practice trying to eat something with it in during
the week.  If you think you can manage, I could put it on you earlier
on in the trip."

"You just don't want to hear me complaining," she said.

I had to laugh at that one.

"Well, yes.  But no, that's not it," I told her.  "This trip has to be
fun for the both of us, Sam.  If there's anything or if I do anything
that you don't like, don't want to do, you tell me and we'll stop.  I
don't want to push you into anything you might regret later and be
upset over, O.K.?"

"Oh Jim," she said, "You haven't done anything yet that upset me.  On
the contrary, I've loved every minute that we've spent together.  And
I'm really excited about this trip, I'm really looking forward to it.
I want you to do everything to me that you said you would.  I'm not
going to complain, I want to do it.  I need to try, master, I have to."

We were standing in the kitchen and I took a step closer to her, then
took her in my arms.  This sweet, sweet beauty was the center of my
universe now and I held her tightly to me, feeling her melt into me in
that way she had of giving all of herself to me.  There'd been no end
to the sex this weekend; we must have done it in every room in the
house, and outside, in the back yard.  Sam's pussy was raw from us
fucking so much and we were both a bit giddy from having cum so many
times.  But when I took hold of the chain between her hands and lifted
her arms up over her head, she pressed her luscious body tightly
against mine, our lust for one another rising to the occasion once
again.

It was late Sunday afternoon before I took Sam's chains off and let her
get dressed again.  We drove into the city to have a nice supper at an
Indian restaurant, then I took her home afterwards.  She had her bit
gag in a plastic bag with the chain, and I'd given her a snap fastener,
in case she had to take it out quickly.  She said she'd try to get used
to having it in her mouth for an extended time.  We'd have two weeks,
maybe three, depending on the weather, before our trip.

The following week, the guy for whom Sam did the drawings e-mailed me
and was thrilled with how the pictures had come out.  He sent me more
stuff and asked if I could work up his web site.  I put something
together for him, an outline he could put on a disk and go through, to
see if he liked the look.  By the end of the week, I had the contract
to do his site.  I got Samantha to do a few more pieces of artwork; she
helped me a bit on getting the layout looking right, and I split the
fee with her.

They say bad things happen in threes.  I'm still waiting for the third,
but on the next week, I was informed that my contract for network
administration at the hospital wouldn't be renewed.  Typical
bureaucracy, they weren't getting a new system, just cutting back on
maintaining the old one.  I had little doubt that they'd be calling me
back to put things right, only instead of a fixed contract I'd be
charging service call rates and probably making more money.  Even if
they found someone else to do the work, it was no big deal, I had other
interests going, and I also had enough stashed away that I didn't
really have to worry about money for a while anyway.  With Samantha,
however, she was devastated, when on Friday they told everyone that her
bank branch was closing.  Some of the senior employees would be
transferred to other branches, but for her, she was shit out of luck.
When I picked her up after work, she tearfully told me the news.

"This was my last day," she said between sobs.  "They gave me three
weeks severance pay.  A few people were kept on until they close the
branch in a couple more weeks, but I'm out."

"Fuck it," I said.  "It was a good job, but it's only a job, there'll
be another.  Don't worry about it, O.K.?"

I didn't say it, but in a way I was glad she'd lost the job.  Maybe it
would be the push she needed to decide to move in with me, like we'd
talked a little about.

"Don't worry about it, Sam," I told her.  "There's plenty of work
around for someone as smart as you.  If you need help with the rent or
something, you tell me.  All right?  I won't charge you much interest
on a loan," I added with a grin.

At least that got a little smile out of her.  We picked up some Chinese
takeout and had it in her apartment.  After dinner, I used her computer
to log onto the web site she'd helped me create.  The site was one of
those pay by month sex sites.  There wasn't much content yet, it had
only been up for a week and the guy was still putting stuff in, but
what was there held Sam's attention.

"You could probably sell this guy some of your drawings," I said to
her.

"You think so?"

"He would pay you for having them here," I told her, "and you'd keep
the originals for yourself.  Basically, you rent the image to him and
retain the rights to it."

"How much can someone make with a site like this?" she asked.

"Well the bigger ones can have maybe two hundred thousand members at
one time.  Times fifteen or twenty bucks a month..."

"Wow!  That much?"

"Content's the key.  Getting the word out, then keeping it fresh,
keeping membership up.  This guy's off to a good start, I think.  With
your help."

Sam's translations of the fellow's sketches did look good on the
screen, the borders and even the arrows she'd done looked almost erotic
in a way.  It was good, showing her the site, opening up possibilities
for her so that the loss of her banking job didn't seem to be such an
end for her.

I stayed the night at her place, just holding her close that night,
cuddling her.  We screwed in the morning.

Last week of August was gloomy and cool.  The beginning of September it
stayed that way.  Rain almost every other day, and cool.  Fall weather
in Ontario.  Sam had her period, so adding to the depressing weather,
we couldn't fuck.  I picked up some other things for the trip: a small
naphtha gas stove, an insulated bag for food.  I cooked some things and
froze them in meal-sized portions, packed up the dry food.  We were
ready to roll.

I saw Sam more often now; with her out of work, she could stay with me
during the week as well as on weekends.  She brought her four goldfish
to my house and we put them in my fishpond, so she wouldn't have to
bother about them when we were away.  She'd already had a job offer,
but it was too far to travel, the pay was low, and she'd turned it
down.  Still, she knew work was available, and her spirits were good,
raised higher as the time for the trip drew closer.

Second week of September, the skies cleared and it got bitterly cold.
Then, two days later, summer returned.  The forecast was for the good
weather to hold for a while so I picked up Sam, we loaded the truck,
and we said bye-bye to the world.

[part 2]

Being a Tuesday and the end of summer, traffic through cottage country
was non-existent.  The Jeep handled well since I'd packed extra light.
Camping in a campground was a whole lot different from camping out in
the wilderness.  Having to lug a bunch of crap along a winding forest
trail becomes less fun the farther you go.  Also, on the way out, I
doubted that Sam would be in any condition to offer much help.  At
least not if we stuck to the original plan.  The biggest and most heavy
item, apart from the canoe, was a plastic tote box with the food and
cooking stuff, and it would be mostly empty on the way back.

We'd started out late in the morning, after a hearty breakfast.  It was
a five-hour drive to the north side of the park and the entry point I'd
chosen.  I planned to spend the night in a motel nearby so we'd have a
full day to make a good start on the trip.  I'd gone over the map of
the park with Sam and, although I'd never been to this area before, we
picked a fairly short route that ended up as a dead end in a small
lake.  A long portage along the way and the isolation of the area, well
off the main canoe routes, would hopefully give us the privacy that we
were seeking.

We stopped along the way for lunch, stopped again at a couple of
souvenir and craft stores.  Sam found a thick, blue cotton, long dress
that had a bib type front and a strap that went around her neck.  With
a tube top underneath it would be perfect for her to wear, and I bought
it for her.  We hadn't packed much clothing and with the way Sam would
be chained her choices were further limited.  Blankets and warm
clothing would be a necessity, I was sure.  Rain wear, hiking boots,
just the basics I had said.  The less we had to carry, the better.

With that last cold snap the trees had started turning colours and the
hills along the way looked gorgeous.  It was as if a giant had sloshed
buckets of yellow, green, and red paint over the forest.  The farther
north we drove the more pronounced the colours were, vibrant golds and
deep reds, beautiful in the sunlight.

Around six, or so, we made the town we were looking for and stopped at
a motel for the night.  Across the street was a diner where we had our
supper, then we took a stroll through the sleepy little town.  People
nodded to us as we passed, even stopped to talk with us at times.

"It's so nice here," Sam said to me, "so peaceful."  We'd crossed a
bridge and had walked down to the marina to look at the boats there.

"Folks are a lot more open in towns like this," I said.  "People are
more trusting, even of strangers passing through.  They don't get the
crime here that we do, or at least it's not an everyday occurrence, not
always in your face like it is in the big city."

Sam said, "It would be nice if we could live someplace like this.
Maybe a little cabin up in the hills, or a small farm."

We?  Hmmm.

"Hmmm," I said, "A big cabin would be nice.  Things are a lot less
expensive up here, property and houses, that is.  Some things cost
more.  It is nice though."

The park office was in the general store, which was closed.  A few
doors down was a bar though, and the good old sounds of rock and roll
could be heard from inside.  The joint had a big crowd for a Tuesday
night, and the band, local boys, no doubt farm hands from around the
area, belted out the tunes and sounded really good.  We stayed for
three sets as the crowds swelled and Sam and I got drunker, unusual for
me since I'm not that big a drinker.  But the beer was fresh and good,
the atmosphere of the bar homey and relaxed, and the start of our trip
seemed to require celebrating.

It was near to ten thirty before we left the bar to stagger up the hill
to our motel room.  We collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles and I
held Samantha close, cuddling and kissing her as the room spun around
me.  We stripped and got under the covers, explored each other's bodies
for a while, until I ended up passing out.

Next morning I woke, a bit hung over, but eager to make a start on the
day.  After a big breakfast at the diner, we took our last hot showers
for a while, then we left the motel and I drove down the hill to the
park office to check in.  The park ranger eyed us both sceptically for
a moment, Sam especially, noting her radiant beauty and how out of
place she'd appear in the wilds.  But then he seemed to notice my truck
parked out front with the canoe expertly lashed to the rack on top, and
I guess he figured us city slickers would be O.K.

Access to the wilderness area of the park is controlled as to numbers
of people per day, routes that you can take, and most importantly,
where you can set up camp.  There are lots of cleared sites along the
routes of lakes and rivers for canoeists to make camp, and primitive
toilet facilities are also provided.  There are rules as to what one
can bring into the park like no cans or bottles, just re-usable plastic
containers, bags and packages only.  All garbage that you couldn't burn
had to be packed out.  To show the ranger I knew what I was doing, I
pulled out my map of the park, with all the info printed on the back,
and traced our planned route for him.  I also had a photocopy of the
part I'd need, less to carry than the big map of the whole park.

"Not many people go to that lake," he said as I pointed out our
destination.  "It's a shame too, that's one of the prettiest spots."

"I'd planned on staying for four, maybe six days there." I told him.
"So long as the weather holds."

"This island," he pointed it out, "has two sites.  Pick the east end,
it's a little rocky, but nice and sunny."

I said I'd like to pay up for eight nights but we'd maybe stay a couple
days longer, if it didn't get too cold or rainy.

"Well sure, pay for the eight now, and if you stay a few days longer,
don't worry about it.  Just check in when you leave so we know you're
all right.  Not many folks in the interior right now.  Had a group of
six go in last weekend, heading south, to the highway.  No one through
here yesterday.  Should be nice and peaceful for you two."

The camping fee wasn't much, a little more than I'd paid for one night
at the motel.  I had a look at the map on the office wall, a newer
version than the one I had, but the rivers and lakes hadn't changed.
The long portage was still just as long, nearly a mile and a half in
length.  The park ranger wished us well when we left and I drove out of
town and along the gravel park access road.

After less than an hour, the road ended at the shore of a big lake.
There was a parking area with a couple other vehicles standing there;
otherwise the place was deserted.  I parked close to the water, then we
started to unload the truck.  We got the boat in the water and all the
stuff in it, then I turned to Sam.

She was wearing a flannel shirt, one of mine actually, and a long
skirt.  I had her put on the outfit we'd picked up along the way, with
a stretchy tube top underneath.  I had her leave one long skirt in the
truck, since she'd brought two.

"Ready?" I asked her.

I put the chains on her wrists and her ankles, snugging up the quick
links firmly with a wrench and using a screwdriver through the link to
lever the wrench against.  I gave each link a final reef, making doubly
sure everything was even, not twisted in any way, and fixed onto her
for the duration.  As a concession to prudence and safety, I'd stashed
a hacksaw blade inside one of the tent poles, just in case of some
emergency, so I could cut through the mild steel of the quick links if
I had to.  But I wasn't going to tell Samantha that until after the
trip, perhaps.  For all she knew, the chains were on her to stay.

I had one box of "things we might not take."  In it was bug spray.
There were no bugs; the chilly weather of last week had reduced the
numbers of annoying insects considerably.  My small axe.  I'd like to
take it, but I had a little folding saw for cutting up firewood.  The
battery radio.

I asked Sam, "If we leave the radio we'll be totally cut off from the
rest of the world.  That might be a good thing, but it can get pretty
boring in the evenings."

"Leave it," she said.

I thought for a moment.  "No, we'll take it.  It'll be nice to know
what the weather is going to do, at least."

Chairs were out, but we had pads to kneel on in the boat, to sit on
around the fire, and to sleep on.  I left the wrench in the truck,
under her seat, and I also left one ring of keys for the locks there
too.  The second set of keys, the ones I'd stash in the woods
someplace, I took with us.

I had her go get in the boat while I moved the truck to a shady spot
away from the water.  Then I walked to the canoe, pushed it out, and
climbed in.  We were off.  The loose chain between Sam's wrists was
just an inch longer than that of the bracelets she had, and it allowed
her to get a slightly better grip on her paddle.  I told her to take it
easy paddling across the big lake since we had nothing but time now and
I didn't want us to get too tired too soon.

"We've got a long ways to go," I said.  We'll have to make camp once,
probably twice before we get to the lake."

We started seeing campsites along the shore, but no people there.
Later on, on the other side of the lake we spotted two canoes going in
the direction we'd come from.  People returning to their car where we
parked, probably.  We left the lake to follow a wide river, and then
came to the first portage, a short one around a rocky set of rapids.

Getting out of the boat, we dried off our feet, then put on hiking
boots.  Sam tucked the tops of her thick socks underneath the chains,
then put her boots on.  Although she could only take short steps, the
tops of the boots supported the chain around her ankles and the smooth
links slid easily over her cotton socks, so walking wasn't really much
of a problem for her.  Leaving a few things in the boat, we carried it
upright along the trail and to the top of the rapids.  Sam carried the
back of the boat, since with her hands chained in front of her it was
easier that way.

"Can you make another trip?" I asked her, when we got to the other end
of the portage.  "Are you all right?"

"Sure," she said, "Let's go."

Sam hobbled down the hill while I followed behind, watching her ass
twitch back and forth with her hair swishing across it as she walked,
her chains tinkling gaily in the quiet forest.  We made another trip
carrying stuff up to the boat, then I let Sam rest while I went back
for the last few things.  We lightened the load a bit by eating a
couple peaches before we set out again.

The river petered out in a marshy swamp and we made another trek along
a trail alongside.  This portage, although longer, was flat and open
alongside the swampy part, fairly easy going.  Back in the water, we
paddled for a while, then stopped for lunch.  I had sandwiches already
made and we ate them, then pressed on.

"How you doing?" I called to her in the front of the boat as we took a
break and floated for a while.

"Great," she said.  "It's really beautiful out here."

"Are you O.K.?" I asked again.

"Sure," she answered, "I'm fine.  Getting a bit tired though, will we
be stopping soon?"

In keeping with the wilderness adventure theme, I'd brought along no
watch.  It looked to be around four, and I told her we'd stop in about
another hour or so.

We came upon a nice little island in the middle of a lake with one
campsite on it, and I called a halt.  Pulling the boat onto shore, we
surveyed our home for the night.  After unloading the canoe we set up
my small, two person tent, then I went to the mainland for firewood,
since there wasn't much dead wood left on the island.  It didn't take
long for me to return with a boatload and I made a fire while Sam
started preparing dinner.  I baked some potatoes in the fire and we
heated up a portion of the frozen beef stew.  We had fresh bread and
half of a carton of some kind of wine with the meal, instant coffee and
apple pie for dessert.  "Wow," Sam said, after we'd eaten.  "Was that
ever good!"

"Keep the memory fresh in your mind," I said, "by the end of the trip
we'll be eating grubs and berries."

We cleaned up from supper and I threw a rope over a tree branch to
hoist the box of food up high, away from any animals that might happen
by.  All it takes is one stinking racoon to root through your food with
his shitty little paws to ruin a nice trip.  We stripped down and took
a quick wash in the cool lake water.  It was starting to get chilly and
Sam put her poncho on to cover her bare arms.  I put on a thicker shirt
and we sat around the fire for a while.

It got dark rather quickly, and the air got colder too.  Sam moved
nearer to me, snuggling close.  After a while, I got up to put some
more wood on the fire and I lit a candle, placing it near the tent.  We
didn't bring my gas lantern, too much trouble, but a large candle gives
off enough light and could also afford a bit of heat inside the tent if
needed.  I found the flashlight and the radio, then returned to
Samantha and cuddled up to her.  Reaching under her poncho, I felt
around her hands and the chain, then my fingers strayed up higher to
her breasts, bare under the covering, the nipples hard and a little
cool to the touch.  Her feet were bare too, drawn up under the long
skirt she was wearing.

"You're not too cold?" I asked her.

"Not really," she said.  "How far do you think we came today?"

"A little under half way.  We'll hit the long hike before noon
tomorrow, it's just along a river at the end of this lake."

"It's so quiet," she said.  "Is there anyone else on this lake?"

"Just us, I guess.  I didn't see any other lights around."

Sam looked at me with a sly grin.  "So you won't have to gag me
tonight."

"No, I suppose not," I said, chuckling.

We both only had one pair of hiking boots each, because by midweek I
expected that Sam would have little use for shoes.  Less to carry too.
We got up to walk barefoot down to the water's edge and Sam held up her
skirt to step out into the water.  It was fully dark now with no moon
to wash the sky with light and, looking north, we could see the
northern lights, faint rippling ribbons of light dancing amongst the
stars.

"Oh my God," Samantha whispered to me, "I've seen that on TV, but never
for real.  It's so beautiful."

"You've got to go much farther north," I quietly said, "to get the full
effect.  The colours would be a lot brighter and it would seem to fill
the entire sky around you."

The light show above was reflected in the inky blackness of the lake at
our feet.  I held Sam's hand as the cold of the water froze our toes.

Later on, we returned to the warmth of the fire and I made us some cups
of hot chocolate and found some cookies to go with it.  I hoisted the
food container back up into the trees and we listened to the radio for
a while, pulling in far away stations on the AM dial with no
interference from electrical gadgets for miles around.  After putting
everything away, we soaked up heat from the fire before I doused it and
we went to bed.

Inside the tent, we eagerly stripped off our clothes and slid into the
chilly sleeping bag, arranging blankets over it and zipping it up.
Sam's chains were ice cold against my skin, but we warmed up quickly.
Sam lay on top of me at first, until it got warmer, then she slid down
under the covers, her wrist chain slipping down my chest, until I felt
her hot breath against my cock.  She started to gently lick me around
the head, teasing me for a while, before she took the length of it into
her mouth and slipped it down deep into her throat.

I wanted to touch her, so after a few moments I raised the covers and
called down for her to turn around.  She was awkward in shifting around
inside the sleeping bag, but she managed, and I slid down a little as
she brought her feet up around my ears.  Her ankle chain was strangling
me now, so we fumbled around a bit more until the chain was under my
head, her pussy was pressed against my mouth, and my cock was once more
lodged down her throat.

I pushed my nose through her slit, letting her labia rings rest on
either side of my nose, and I flicked my tongue back and forth across
her clit.  Sam moaned with pleasure, intensifying her efforts to
swallow me whole.  I sucked her lips into my mouth and played with her
rings with my tongue, hearing the metal clicking against my teeth, then
I pushed my tongue deep up inside her, rolling it around in her warmth
and wetness.  I was soon reaching for a towel to mop up her slickness
that was running down my chin and threatening to make a swamp of our
bed.

I unzipped the bag so Sam could turn around more easily and I had her
lay down on her back, spreading the towel under her bum to soak up any
ensuing messes.  I lay down on top of her, pushing my feet under her
ankle chain so she could bring her legs up over my back.  She was
undeterred by my pussy juice soaked face and she kissed me
passionately, pushing her tongue into my mouth even as I pushed my
throbbing cock into her slippery wet pussy.  I started banging into
her, trying to keep most of my weight off her, since the pads under our
bedding didn't offer a lot of cushioning.  Sam pressed her heels onto
my back and her chain was hanging down in the crack of my ass, tickling
me there as I pumped into her.

Samantha's cries of passion were loud, carrying far, I was sure, across
the water in the still night air.  Perhaps even to other lakes, I
thought, trying to distract myself from cumming too quickly while
riding out the massive orgasm that held her in its grip.  People
sitting up, around their fires, hearing the sounds of some tortured
beast far off in the woods.  The idea made me grin.

Sam's hands were on my face and I hooked her chain with my thumb to
drag it down and under her head, bringing her hands down around her
face.  I bent to kiss her as I started thrusting into her again.  Sam's
feet had slipped down to my ass, her heels driving me on, the chains
around her ankles grinding into me.  The loose chain between her feet
was swinging around and, at times, slapping against my balls.  I felt
only pleasure, however.  Her feet moved a bit lower and the chain began
hitting my cock on each upstroke.  That was when I lost it.  My weight
fell onto Sam as I blasted a jet of blazing hot cum into her.  Her feet
twitched, sending the chain swinging and stroking my crotch again, and
another shot of cum burst forth.  Her lusty moan loud in my ear, I shot
another couple jets of jism into her, then collapsed on top of her, my
panting breath hot and heavy against the side of her head.  Sam lifted
her head up to slip her wrist chain from underneath, then brought her
hands up over my head to caress my back, with her chain sliding
smoothly across my skin.  I rolled off her a little so she wasn't
crushed, and we held each other as my cock softened inside of her.

Later on, we went naked outside to take a piss, and then go to the lake
and wash up a bit.  The water was cool, although not unbearably so, but
we were quick about it, drying off and slipping back into the still
warm sleeping bag.  Holding my lovely Samantha in my arms again, I was
soon fast asleep.

Morning brought cloudy skies, but slightly warmer weather, and together
we fixed a big breakfast of fried eggs and ham slices, which I grilled
over the fire.  I even managed to make passable toast on the grill.

By the time we'd finished eating, the sun was out again.  Sam changed
into a long skirt with her lighter poncho and nothing underneath; I
wore shorts and a flannel shirt.  We broke camp and hit the water.
After paddling across the lake, we found the wide river leading to the
long portage.  Sam's clothing covered her chains well enough, and it
was a good thing too, since along the way we passed a couple of other
boats, stopping in the middle of the river to chat for a few minutes
with an older couple.  They looked like they'd been in the park for a
while, since the man had a good two weeks growth of stubble on his
face.

We ran into a couple more people along the portage too.  Sam had to
stop walking when they came near so her ankle chain wouldn't rattle and
cause suspicion, but we just set whatever we were carrying down, making
it look like we'd just decided to take a little rest.  The first part
of the hike was part of a main route and at about half way the trail
branched to go south, or east to the lake we'd chosen to visit.  The
branch was marked clearly as to where the main path led and also that
the other route ended at our lake.  Mostly, people going somewhere and
travelling through the park, would stick to the main route, not as
interested in taking a path that didn't seem to lead on to anywhere.
At least that's what I was counting on.

The main part of the path was well travelled and a relatively easy
hike, but where it branched, it continued as a more narrow trail
winding through dense forest, and uphill to boot.  To say it was
daunting would be an understatement.  We'd started with the canoe,
carrying it upright with the paddles, lifejackets, and sleeping pads in
it.  On the less used trail, it became impossible to negotiate with it
like that and I had to carry the boat up over my head with Sam bringing
the other things along.  Despite her having the chains on, she had an
easier time of it than I did.  The boat kept getting wedged between
trees or hung up on branches, and it was up hill, at times steeply so,
almost all the way.

Finally, the trail levelled off, then began to descend in a gentler
slope and the forest thinned somewhat.  The path ended at a
disappointingly small stream.  We dropped our loads, turned to one
another, and burst out laughing.

"What a fucking ordeal," I said.

"Hardly seems worth it," said Sam, looking out at the muddy little
river.

"Ya, well, it can only get better.  Right?"

After a brief rest, we headed back for another load.  At the other end,
we had a snack of some fruit and a drink of water, then we picked up
some more stuff to make the trek again.  At the boat, I had Sam get
busy on making some ham sandwiches while I made the hike once more for
the last few things.  By the time we had everything together, had a
quick lunch, and set out again, it must have been late afternoon.  Just
to make things even more annoying, the little river was blocked four
times by beaver dams, forcing us to get out and haul the loaded canoe
over them.

It was beginning to get dark when, at last, the river opened onto a
long, narrow lake.  I picked the first campsite we came to, drove the
boat onto shore, and stopped for the day.  I got the fire going while
Sam set up the tent.  I cut up some onions and potatoes, which Sam
fried on the stove while I grilled a couple thick pork chops.  We
finished the other half of the wine and started on another.  We'd both
been a little edgy for the last few hours, but after eating and
relaxing for a bit, I started to feel somewhat better.

"We didn't make much progress today," I said, "but we've only got a
short ways to go now."

I showed Sam the map.  "There's another portage to get to our lake, but
it's not long.  We should be there sometime in the afternoon."

In the evening light, we took a wash in the lake and I examined
Samantha's wrists and ankles, looking for signs that the chains were
causing her problems.  Apart from a few small red marks from them
rubbing against her skin she seemed fine.  After we'd cleaned up, I
rubbed a little skin cream under her chains and then I gave her a nice
massage, since she said her shoulders were getting a bit sore from
paddling so much.  Of course, since she'd complained of her being sore,
I was forced to lock the bit gag into her mouth.  Sam wore the gag for
the rest of the evening.

Before we went to bed I used another lock to lock her hands behind her
back, then I held a cup to her lips to let her drink some water.  After
I'd dried her face off, we snuggled into the sleeping bag, making love
finally, her on her side and me behind her.  After that I unlocked her
hands, but when I went to remove the gag she shook her head and moved
away from me.  She wanted me to leave it on her.

We went outside for a piss, then got back into bed.  Sam snuggled up
close to me and we quickly fell asleep.

It must have been early in the morning when I woke, my arm numb from
Sam's head resting on it, my shoulder wet with her drool leaking past
the bit in her mouth.  My arm behind her was wrapped in her soft hair,
one of her arms was across my chest, and her leg was across mine.  I
could feel her chains against my skin, warm, nice.  My lovely little
slave girl.

Ever so gently, I touched her nipple, running a finger around it,
barely touching her.  I watched as her eyes flickered open, then
glanced downward as she realised her cheek was in a puddle.  She lifted
her head up and more slobber flowed from her mouth.  "Uuugg whhaas
hmm."

It finally dawned on her that she still had the bit in her mouth.
Taking up a towel, I wiped my shoulder and daubed at the corners of her
mouth.  I unzipped the sleeping bag and sat up.  I was suddenly horny
as hell.  Taking Sam's wrist chain in my hand, I hauled her up out of
bed.  One of the locks was still on the floor and I grabbed it, then
opened the tent and we went outside.

It had been warm in the tent, and outside it was quite pleasant.  I'd
seen a fallen tree nearby last night and I had a plan.  Leading Sam
over to it, I had her lay face down over the thick tree trunk.  The
wood was still solid but the bark had fallen off, making a nice smooth
surface for her soft tummy.  Reaching under the tree, I slipped the
lock through her wrist chain and connected it to her ankle chain.  I
clicked the lock closed and stepped back before she'd realized what I'd
done.

"Mmmffft."

"Quiet or I'll have to spank you."

"MMMff.  Mmmfss!"

Oh what a cutie.  I sauntered around a bit, rubbing the sleep from my
eyes, my dick waving around in front of me.  I did go down to the water
to see if we were alone, and not seeing anyone, I returned to my
helpless victim.

"MMMMM!" she sputtered.

"Didn't I tell you what would happen if you weren't quiet?"

"Mmm."

I began to smack her upturned bum with my hand.  When it was a nice
even red colour, I moved her back a little, before she flipped herself
around the tree trunk, and I pushed my cock into her burning, wet
pussy.

Almost as soon as I'd entered her, she came, a long, howling cum that
had her shaking and bucking against the wood, me fighting to hold her
from flipping us both over the top of the trunk.  Finally, I grabbed
hold of the lock behind her head and pulled her head up, then I started
to pump my cock into her in long deep strokes that had her groaning and
panting around the gag.  I fucked her through another two orgasms until
I could hold back no longer and I let loose a torrent of cum into her,
filling her up to overflowing with it.

When my senses returned, I stepped back, withdrawing myself from her
grasping cunt.  I gave her bum a final hard smack, causing her to jump
and making a gush of gooey cum shoot out of her.  Then I went to find
the keys.

When I crawled out of the tent, I had to pause and just stare at her
for a moment, her arms and legs hanging down, locked around the big
log, her head down and hair pooled on the ground.  Her crimson bum
high, glowing in the bright morning light, trails of glistening slime
down the backs of her thighs.  Simply stunning.

Climbing over the tree trunk, I unlocked her gag first and moved her
hair off her face.  She tilted her head up to me and tried to speak,
but her mouth wouldn't work right.  After I'd unlocked her chains and
helped her to gingerly sit on the log, she turned her head to face me
and gave me the sweetest smile.

"Thank you, sir."

"It was my pleasure, little one."

The air was definitely warmer, and neither of us felt the need to put
on clothes.  I used the stove to make coffee and I cooked a pot of
oatmeal for breakfast, choosing to save the eggs and better stuff for
later on.  After we ate, we took a good wash in the lake, even managing
to swim a bit before the chilly water drove us out and back to the
sunny shore.  Finally, we got dressed, struck camp, packed everything
into the boat, and left.

We paddled the length of the lake and found the next river, which wound
through a mountainous area.  As we paddled, the hills around us got
higher and more rugged looking.  High, bare rock cliffs, towering over
us on either side of the river in some spots.  The water was calm
though, only a small amount of current moving against us, and the going
was fairly easy.  When the river began to turn south, I kept an eye out
for the marking of the portage that would take us to the last lake.

Sam spotted the yellow sign, nailed to a tree in a small bay, and we
turned in.  This time, for a change, we took some of the packs first,
leaving the boat for later.  The trail went uphill for a bit, then we
came to a steep drop off that led down the side of a hill and to the
water far below.  I went first, ready to drop what I was carrying and
catch Sam if she happened to slip or stumble, and she did have a bit of
trouble negotiating the steep slope, but we managed to get to the
bottom without incident.

The lake was not that big, but was surrounded by high hills, ringed
partially with rocky cliffs that went straight up from the water in
several spots.  We could hear a steady roar that echoed from the rock
around us.  The trees that we'd passed on the trail were huge, towering
white pines, and there were many such trees on the hills around us.
The whole area had a kind of prehistoric, untouched look to it, as
though time had passed this area by somehow.  The air was still and
calm in the shelter of the hills, and when I dipped my hand in the
water, I discovered it to be surprisingly warm.

Going back up the trail I found the best way was for me to hold onto
Sam's wrist chain to help her keep her footing on the steeper parts of
the slope.  I had the set of keys fixed to my belt and I was keeping an
eye out for a good place to stash them.  At the top of the hill, I
spied a nice place.  Sam leaned against a tree while I climbed on a big
rock, then I walked along a fallen tree that leaned out away from the
trail at an angle.  Using a piece of wire, I tied the ring of keys to a
branch up high, out of sight from the path.  I made sure that they'd
stay there; I made a note of the location, what was underneath in case
the tree fell down some more.  Sam watched me.

We went back for the boat, moving it to the top of the slope, then we
went to get the last of the gear.  Moving the canoe down the slope was
as tricky as I expected it would be.  I tied a long rope to it, then I
had Sam brace herself and steady the boat, letting the rope out as I
eased it down, stopping when the rope ran out, to have her move farther
down.  When we'd gotten everything down and loaded into the canoe, we
set sail once more.

We paddled out into the middle of the lake and saw the island that
would be home.  But we passed it by for what we saw around a bend in
the shore.  From over the top of a cliff poured a rather spectacular
waterfall, the water going straight down perhaps a hundred feet to
splash into the lake below.  We brought the boat closer and to a sandy
shore beside where the falls were, stepping out and pulling the boat
onto the beach.  We both were speechless, taken in by the beauty of
this area.  Sam took off her shoes and socks and her skirt to wade out
into the water.

"It's almost warm," she said.

It was nice, warmer than the lakes we'd passed through before, and
clean, you could see down quite far in the water.  You could probably
drink it without any problems, but I had tablets to add to water that
would make it safe to drink, and there was no sense taking chances.

Sam walked back to the boat, stripped off her tube top, then waded back
out and dove in.  I joined her a moment later, swimming out almost
under the falls, feeling the force of the water pounding down from
above.  I found a place where I could stand, Sam came to me and hooked
her chain around my neck, and we kissed each other with the roar of the
falls in our ears.

I stepped through Sam's ankle chain to let her bring her feet up behind
me and she wrapped her legs around my waist.  By rubbing herself
against me, she quickly brought my cock to an erect state whereupon I
reached under her leg to guide it into her.  Fucking under water is not
the best thing to do, because vigorous thrusting can push water up into
a woman in a place that water should not go.  Careful and gentle
stroking however, combined with having her pressed close to me, and the
rather exotic setting we'd found ourselves in all worked their magic on
us, making our resulting orgasms spectacularly intense.

With Sam still wrapped around me, my dick still impaling her, I carried
her to shallow water to let her disentangle herself from me.  Then we
lay on the sandy beach for a while, soaking up the sun while we came
down from our high.  After a nice little rest, we went back to the boat
to see about setting up camp.

The island was far enough from the waterfall that the noise wouldn't be
too bothersome.  Tall trees filled one end of the small island, a rocky
hill took up the middle part, and the other end was mostly bare rock
with a few shorter trees and small bushes.  The most obvious place for
the tent was a fairly flat spot near to the water and open to the full
day's sun.  A fallen log served as a dock for the canoe.  Someone had
taken the time to build a table, rather crude but perfectly
serviceable, near to the fire pit.  Many of the tent pegs hit rock just
an inch or two down, so I used short pieces of rope and heavy rocks to
hold down the corners of the tent.

We set a tarp over the tent, strung up some lines for another over the
table, then got busy on making lunch.  Neither of us had dressed from
our swim before, we'd only rubbed sunscreen over each other so we
wouldn't get burned in the afternoon sun.  We hadn't seen anyone since
leaving the main route a day ago.  I had little doubt that we would be
undisturbed by other people during our stay here.  After eating our
soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, we just lay on the sun-warmed rocks
at the end of the island.

"That last trail we took to get here," I said, "it didn't look like
anyone had used it for some time.  I didn't see any footprints."

"Such a pretty spot," Sam said.  "It's hard to believe that it isn't
packed with people."

"Well, you know what we had to go through to get here.  I have a
feeling we won't be getting many visitors."

"The local people must know of this place," she said.

"I bet there's lots of spots around this part of the country that are
nice like this.  Probably a lot easier to get to too."

We did pretty much nothing but lay around naked on the rocks sunning
ourselves, going in for a swim from time to time, and cuddling, holding
each other close, relaxing.

Towards evening when the sun got low and the air cooled off, we put on
some clothes, then made a start on dinner.  I had Samantha slice up
some potatoes and onions, fresh green beans, while I took the canoe
over to the mainland to gather more firewood along the shore.  Sam
cooked the vegetables and I grilled a couple nice steaks over the fire,
we had bread and wine, the rest of the apple pie for dessert.

After supper, I took Sam around the lake, letting her relax in the
front of the boat while I paddled.  Then, after taking a good wash in
the water, we sat around the fire talking and listening to the radio
until it was time for bed.

The first three days we spent much as any couple out camping would,
save for the fact we were nude most of the time, and that Samantha had
chains around her wrists and ankles.  I was pleased at how well she
took to having the chains on her, getting used to them so quickly and
never once complaining about having to wear them all the time.  She
told me a few times how hot she felt walking around chained up like
that, displaying herself that way for all to see, not that there was
anyone else but me around to see her.

"This one is for you, Master," she'd say, referring to herself,
kneeling before me and presenting herself to me.  My own sweet little
sex slave, I'd think to myself.  I was powerless to resist her charms.

There was sort of a path that led up to the top of the waterfall.  It
had looked like it would be a long hike, so I packed a lunch and we
took the boat over, then made the climb through the forest and along
rocky hillsides, ever upwards.  Several times I'd have to carry
Samantha, because she just couldn't negotiate the fallen trees or the
high steps over rocks with her short ankle chain.  But we made it,
sitting on a high hilltop eating lunch, looking out over a vast plain
that the river flowed through to then tumble over the cliff and down
into our lake.

One of the many highlights of the trip was diving off a rock perch on
the side of a cliff and down into the deep water of the lake below.  It
would take about a half hour to claw our way along the side of the hill
to the spot.  Sam was keen to do it and she convinced me to try it with
her.  We stood side by side on the ledge about thirty feet above the
lake, our toes hanging off the edge.

"Hit the water feet first," she instructed me.  "Hold your nose," she
glanced down, "and you better hang on to your balls too."

"Uh huh," I muttered.

She counted to three and we both leapt off, flying through the air
before knifing into the water of the lake.  Down I went, the water
several feet below the surface as cold as ice.  Then we'd surface,
laughing and whooping, eager to go again.

The weather was cooperating, remaining warm and sunny by day, cooler at
night, but not unpleasantly so.  We found a couple of other trails
around, short walks in the woods, not really leading to anywhere.  The
river exiting from our lake became impassable after a mile or so,
blocked by a long stretch of rocky rapids.  I searched for a trail that
we could walk, to see what was on the other side of the rapids, but I
didn't find any easy way around, so we paddled back.  I borrowed a line
off the tarp and we did some laundry; cum-soaked towels and a blanket
or two.

On the third day, I baited a hook, tossed a line over the side of the
canoe, and snagged a lovely lake trout that made us a fine dinner.
That evening as we sat by the fire, I could tell that Samantha was
mentally preparing for something, looking towards me at times with
expectation in her eyes.  I knew that look, what it meant.  I waited
until she asked me.

"Master?"

"Yes, little one?"

"Master, are you going to put a lock on me tonight?"

"Would you like me to?"

"You said you would."

"And so I did," I said.  "Which one would you like first?"

I got up and went into the tent, into my clothes bag to find one of her
locks.  I'd put tape over each one so they didn't get accidentally
locked being tossed around in the bag, and I peeled the tape from the
hole in the lock as I returned to her.  She had decided, I saw.  She
was sitting on her mat, her feet close together on mine.  I lay down
beside her, kissed her pretty little toes, then slipped the padlock
through the links of the chain around each ankle and clicked it closed.

Samantha's range of travel suddenly became limited to around our
campsite, unless I decided to pick her up and carry her off someplace.
Even sitting on the box privy took on a new meaning for her.  Before,
with the short chain between her ankles, she could barely manage to
spread her feet far enough apart so her ass didn't thump down on the
rough seat.  Now, not only did her ass bang down as she sat, but she
had to slide it back a little across the seat, and getting up was
indeed a struggle.

She'd shuffle her feet back and forth, trying to walk on the uneven
rock around the campsite.  She'd try hopping, but that was just as
difficult to do.  The loose chain would get underfoot, making her
stumble, and she'd go down, calling for me to come and help her.  I'd
go to her and help her up, taking her in my arms and holding her close.
She'd tremble against me, but not from rage or annoyance at her
bondage.  Not discomfort, not pain or fear.  She'd press herself
against me, making little mewing sounds.  She needed that which I could
give her.  Freedom, yes, eventually.  But it was my cock that she
craved, for the master to take his little creature to his tent and
ravage her, to carry his captive into his lair and roughly take her.

That first night with her feet locked close together, her lust for me
increased tenfold.  I'd barely even touched her and she was lost to it,
writhing in the sleeping bag, moaning loud and crying out her need.
I'd satisfy her, for a while, until her horniness built up again, her
role as the helpless little animal captured her soul once more, and
we'd fuck long and hard again.  By morning, I was shagged out.
Samantha had crawled out of the tent in the dawn light, leaving me to
sleep in, I'd hoped.

"Master, Master.  Help me," I heard.

I went to her aid and saw her lying down on the rock, her ankle chain
wedged into a crack in the stone slab.  She was struggling to free
herself, her hair plastered all over her, her body shaking.  I went to
her and calmed her down; she clung to me as I poked at the chain with a
thin stick where it was wedged, shifting a link around so I could pull
it free.

"Oh thank you, master," she said, rubbing herself against me.
 

"You'd better calm down Samantha," I said.  "Disturbing my sleep like
that.  I'm going to have to punish you."

I didn't think that would get her to calm down any, but she did settle
a bit.  Her enthusiasm over her captivity was starting to rub off on
me, getting me fired up to take this thing further than I had expected
it would go.  I was staring at a big tree over on the side of the
island, and Samantha's eyes followed mine, to a thick branch sticking
out.  A hanging tree, it was.

I picked up Sam and carried her to the tree, setting her down
underneath the thick branch that was maybe twenty feet off the ground.
I put her feet up on a rock and told her to wait, then I went to the
rope that held up our food container.  The plastic tote box had a snap
lid that would deter any ambitious chipmunk, so I left it on the table,
untied the rope, and returned to Sam with it.  I'd picked up this rope
before we left.  Soft, thick, braided nylon.  Three eights inch thick,
forty feet of it.  It was lightweight, and had been handy when we'd
lowered the canoe down that last trail.  It would be perfect now, as I
expected it would be when I'd bought it.

Pushing Sam's chains up her legs as far as I could, I wound the rope
around her ankles three times, then passed the end between them twice
and tied a couple of knots.  The other end I threw over the branch,
getting it on the first try.  Smiling to myself, I wound the rope
around the tree trunk a couple times, then, holding the end, I lifted
Sam's feet up into the air.

I pulled up the slack, then wrapped my arm around her legs to hoist her
higher.  Pulling the slack up again, I took hold of her around her
waist and lifted, pulled up the rope, then again, raising her higher.
Her head left the ground and I got my arm under her shoulder.  Her
fingertips left the ground and I pushed her up once more, then, keeping
tension on the rope, I wound it around the tree a couple more times,
walked the end to another, thinner tree, and tied it off.  Samantha
hung suspended by her feet, only the tips of her long hair barely
brushing the ground as she swung back and forth slightly.  There was a
root from the tree partially uncovered right beneath her.  I used a
stick to dig under it a bit, until I could slip a rope underneath.
Then I went to find a piece of rope.  I tied the center of Sam's wrist
chain down to the root, pulling it tight, but not unbearable so.  When
I'd finished I stepped back to look.  An absolutely amazing sight.

"Master?" Sam's little lost one's voice called to me.

I bent down on one knee to look directly into her eyes.

"Yes, my pet?"

She paused a moment, unsure.  "Nothing."

I reached up to brush her erect nipples with the backs of my fingers.
Then standing, I said, "I'm going to finish my nap now.  Don't be
making any noise."

I went back to the tent and crawled inside.  I'd tied the flaps open
but the screen hung down.  Although I had a perfect view of my little
chained wood nymph hanging upside down from a tree, I doubted that she
could see me.  Obviously I wasn't going to go to sleep, but I did lay
there for perhaps an hour, maybe even dozing from time to time, but
always on the alert for any kind of distress from my precious one.

I heard her chains tinkling and I opened my eyes to see her twisting
and shaking.  She stopped, and I noticed a rather large fly buzzing
around her.  It landed, probably on her ass, and a moment later she
shook herself again, trying to rid herself of the bothersome insect.
It was then that I decided that she'd had enough.  I took up a piece of
the newspaper that we'd been using to start fires with and I went
outside.  Pretending to be reading the paper, I strolled casually over
to where she was tied.  When she saw me, I said, "Good morning pet.
Sleep well?"

"Master, this fly."  She twisted her ass to me.

"Mmmm?  Oh dear!" I said.

I rolled up the paper and nailed that sucker, smashing the fly and then
watching as a bright red spot formed on her bum where I'd hit her.

"Ouch!  Thank you master."

"Coffee would be nice," I said to her.  "Oh, that's O.K.  I'll get it."

I turned and left her, set up the stove and got some water going.  I
poured a glass of juice, sipped it, then strolled back to her.  I held
her head up and tipped the glass to her lips.  She drank a few sips,
upside down, then sputtered and choked.  I dropped her head to let her
deal with orange juice up her nose while I made the coffee.

After I'd made the coffee and had a couple sips, I figured she'd had
enough.  I untied the rope holding her hands down, then spread a pad
under her and carefully untied the main rope.  I unwound it from the
tree trunk until her weight started to pull her down and I slowly let
her down to the ground again.  I carried her over to the table, laid
her on the other pad, and gave her a cup of coffee.

"Did you like that, Sam?" I asked.

"Kind of.  Got a hell of a headache, though."

I got her a couple aspirins from the first aid kit, then we spent
a couple of quiet hours inside the tent, catching up on the sleep we
missed last night, a wet washcloth over Sam's forehead.  She felt
better later on and I fixed us a nice brunch, the last two eggs, the
last of the ham, and toast with jam.  There was one more frozen meal
left, now thawed, then we'd be into the freeze dried and packaged
powdered stuff.  Of that, there was a lot, so we wouldn't have to
resort to digging up grubs for a while yet.

The day was warm and humid, and we spent most of the time in the water.
Sam couldn't swim anymore with her feet locked together, but she could
float with a lifejacket buckled around her middle, and that's what we
did.  Later on in the afternoon, sitting on the rocks looking out at
the lake, we started talking.

"Master, I'm sorry for making you mad this morning."

"I wasn't mad," I said.

"For bothering you all night, I was just so horny for some reason."

"It was nice, Sam.  I wasn't mad about it."

"But what, then." she asked.  "Why did you tie me up in the tree?"

"I thought it would be fun.  Didn't you like it?"

"Well, yes, I did like it.  But you looked so mad at the time, when you
were lifting me up there."

"Mad with arousal, perhaps.  You're getting so into your submissive
role incited my dominant side to take over.  I had an idea that I
wanted to try, and I just went ahead and did it.  I should have talked
to you first about it.  I'm sorry if I hurt you, but, I guess I did
just let myself get carried away a little."

"You didn't hurt me, master.  You have never hurt me."  Sam giggled.
"Well, you know what I mean.  You've never made me feel bad.  Except
for this morning.  I thought you were pissed off at me and that's why
you hung me in the tree."

"Damn," I said.  "You know what this is, don't you?  All the time we've
been together, all that we've done together, this is our first
misunderstanding."

"Are we having a lovers' quarrel?"

I laughed.  "No, not yet.  I should have told you first, what I was
going to do.  But doms get into the same kind of head space that subs
do, you know.  Only instead of letting go like you do, we have to seize
the moment and take total charge.  Take over completely.  I treated you
like an object this morning, and I shouldn't have.  I wanted to do
something to you, and I went ahead and did it.  Your not letting me
sleep last night was just an excuse I used to let myself do it to you.
I am sorry, Sam.  I should have talked to you about it first."

"Please don't apologize master," she said.  "I understand now.  I did
like what you did, I was just upset because I thought you were mad at
me."

"Look at yourself Sam.  You're naked and chained up.  I hold the power
to get you out of here.  How could I ever be mad at you, for letting me
hold your life in my hands?  For your giving yourself so completely to
me?  The gift of your self, Samantha, there is none so sweet."

Our relationship's first crisis, smoothed over so pleasantly.  As the
skies began to darken, so too did Sam's mood brighten.  The weather
reports had called for a change, and that change became apparent soon
after.  We took another swim, prepared an early dinner, and ate while
waiting for the storm.  The sky got darker, the wind picked up,
although in the shelter of the hills around we didn't get much of it.
Up on the hills though, the trees were whipping around fiercely.  I'd
made a fire and we sat under the tarp, listening to the booming of
thunder getting closer and closer.

When the rain came, it came with a vengeance.  Carrying Sam, I made a
dash for the tent, then we held each other closely, the lightning
flashing down, the thunder echoing from all around.  With us being in
such a low area, I expected that lightning wouldn't get to us, and even
if it missed the hills and came down to the lake, the taller trees at
the other end of the island would draw a strike away from our campsite.

The lightning quickly passed by, but the rain was unabated for some
time, and we cuddled in the warm dry tent while it pounded down on the
tarp over our heads.  Samantha squirmed around, slid her wrist chain
over her feet, and brought her hands up the backs of her legs, to the
middle of her back.  She lay on her side, her back towards me.  I said
to wait for a while, to let the worst of the storm pass, just in case
we ended up flooded out.  To pass the time, Sam began to grind her bum
against me, grasping for my cock with her hands behind her, trying to
find a nice warm spot to put it into.

We had a nice slow fuck; her on her side and me snuggled up behind her.
I had hold of her wrist chain to force her hands up high, between her
shoulder blades, and I held her like that as I teasingly stroked my
stiff prick in and out of her slippery channel.  She came hard, her
hands grasping at air behind her, her feet clutching one of mine, and
she shook and writhed, screaming out with her heat, her lust.

Later on, the rain slowed to a steady drizzle and we put on clothes,
raincoats over top, and went outside to take pisses and survey the
damage.  The boat was all right, the fire pit was drowned out, and
pretty much everything else was as it should be.  The roar from the
waterfall was definitely louder now.  We went to bed early that night,
the radio telling us that the storms had been fierce in some places,
even reports of a tornado in a town not too far away.  It was only
eight thirty when we called it a night, but with little else to do, we
caught up on some much needed rest.  I'd been having second thoughts on
putting any more locks on Sam, and I expressed my concerns to her.

"The keys up in the tree could have gotten melted if lightning hit
them," I said.  "Then where would you be?"

"Chained up like a beast, I guess."

"Exactly.  Tomorrow morning I'm going to go and get them.  Then we'll
continue, O.K.?"

While I'd been talking, she'd been busy getting her hands behind her
back again.  She wriggled her fingers at me.  "Just one more, master?"

Once again, the quest for adventure won out over common sense.  I took
a lock from my bag and clicked it closed through the chains around her
wrists.

"No fucking, alright Sam?" I told her.  "Let's get some sleep."

Sam did manage to keep her hands off me until early dawn.  The light
was just beginning to be visible when I was wakened by her feet rubbing
against my leg and her hands rubbing my cock, her bum pressed tight
against my hip.  I could feel her twitching and shaking next to me and
she was making little moaning sounds.  She was already ready.  My
rolling over towards her elicited a squeal of delight, and she strained
to insert my erect cock into her, nudging it with her fingertips until
it lined up, to then slip into her.

What a nice way to wake up, I thought, and I started banging into her.
Sam reached her peak on my fourth or fifth stroke, bucking and twisting
so hard my cock was dislodged from her.  That didn't stop her though.
The sleeping bag was not zipped up and she rolled right out, face down
in a tangle of blankets and she ground her tits into the rough wool as
her orgasm went on.  I sat up to watch.  When she finally stopped
humping air and realized I was not inside her anymore, she slumped down
on the floor of the tent, gasping air like a beached fish.  I shifted
her hair off her face and her eyes fluttered open to look at me.

"Master," she said between breaths.

"Yes, my pet?"

"Good morning, master."

"And good morning to you, sweetheart," I said, sweetly.  Sam struggled
to her knees, then made it back onto our bed.  She knelt upright,
turned her head, and looked at me over her shoulder.  I got up onto my
knees and positioned myself behind her, straddling her legs and feet.
I took my cock in one hand to run the tip through her wet slit.  Sam
moaned long and low, her hands clenching and unclenching behind her
back.  I shifted a little closer, then she sank down taking my length
up inside of her.  We both lowered ourselves until I felt my balls
touch her heels, then slide down the soles of her feet.  We just stayed
like that for a while as I reached around her and caressed her breasts,
rubbed and pinched her nipples, occasionally letting a hand stray down
her tummy to finger through her pussy hair, and lower still, to flick
across her clit.  With a finger on either side, I could feel my cock
buried up to the hilt in her, her two pussy lip rings on either side of
it.

She raised herself up and I placed my hands on her hips to guide her
movements.  I grabbed a pillow and placed it where her head would go,
then she bent over, letting her face thump down on it.  Her ass went up
and I rose up onto my knees to begin to pump into her with fast, deep
strokes.  Grabbing the loose chain between her wrists and using it to
steady myself, to hold her still, I started to really give it to her.
I didn't stop when she came, I drove into her with a firm, steady
rhythm while her cunt muscles gripped me tightly.  Her hands before me
twisted uselessly in the chains that held her tight, and she screamed
loud with passions unleashed.

Even as she came down from that great orgasm, I banged her.  Her lust
quickly came to a boil again and she exploded, me holding tightly to
her chain with one hand now, the other wrapped around her waist so she
didn't buck me off her, and still I maintained that quick, hard
stroking, riding the wild beast through another massive cum.  My cum
was boiling now, my balls felt heavy with it.  I was giving voice to my
thrusts, loud grunts and yelps.  Like a huge lightning bolt it was,
starting out somewhere deep in my hindbrain, gathering strength.  Then
blasting down my spine, electrifying every nerve in my body, total
annihilation in its wake.  It blasted out of me, taking all of me along
with it.  Deep within my lovely Samantha's body I flowed.  My arm
around her waist crushed her loins tightly to me as I came and came, my
knees finally giving out and we collapsed into a sweaty heap on top of
the sleeping bag.  My heart was hammering in my chest and I could
barely pull enough air into my lungs, so wasted was I.  I lay on top of
her for what seemed like forever, unable to move, unable even to form a
coherent thought, just madly, totally in love with the sweet, chained,
creature beneath me.

Finally I gathered the energy to roll off her.  Sam was choking on her
hair, so I blindly reached out, felt around her head, to move the veil
of silky strands from off her face.  I lay on the floor of the tent,
panting and wheezing, trying to return to the living.

"Fuck Sam," I managed to gasp out, "you're gonna be the death of me
yet."

"The death of a thousand fucks," she answered breathlessly.  "That last
one must have counted for fifty."

"Damn near.  Whew!"
 

[part 3]

It was mid morning before we finally got going.  I had to do everything
for Sam now, carry her to the toilet, wipe her pussy, bring her back.
I put some clothes on her, a skirt and her light poncho.  I braided her
hair and tied the braid up double so it was out of her way.

"Master.  In my bag, could you get me one of my birth control pills?"

I found the package for her.

"Master.  Could you give me two, I forgot yesterday."

"Sure, Sam."

My thoughts were on getting the keys to her locks, on whether I'd see a
blackened piece of wire where I'd left them.  I made some coffee,
cooked some porridge for breakfast, held the cup so Sam could drink the
coffee, and spoon-fed her her food.  After I'd cleaned up, stashed the
food, and loaded Sam into the canoe, I paddled us the length of the
lake to the trail that led out of here.

"This was a bad idea Sam, having your hands locked like that.  You
can't do anything now."

"I know master.  But it's nice, though."

"You're supposed to be the slave, Sam.  Not the pampered pet, making me
wait on you hand and foot."

"Are you mad at me again, master?"

I laughed.  "Actually, no.  I like having to wait on you hand and
foot."

It wasn't hard to spot the place the trail started; there was a big
circle of muddy water around it.  Sure enough, the heavy rain had made
a royal mess of the path.  The steep slope, treacherous enough when it
was dry, was now a slippery, gooey mess.  I left Sam in the canoe, tied
to a tree, the boat that is, she was locked up in chains and wasn't
going anywhere, and I began to make my way upwards.  As if the mud
wasn't bad enough, couple of big trees had been blown down across the
trail, and I had to climb up over one, duck under the other.  When I
got to the top and found the branch where I'd tied the keys, they were
still there, twinkling at me in the morning's light.  I reached out,
untwisted the wire, then fastened the ring of keys to my belt.  I'd
brought the long rope with me, and at the worst part of the trail, I
tied one end to a tree, then used it to steady myself as I made my way
back down to Samantha.  When I got back to the boat, I jingled the keys
at her.

"Ta-da!"

Damned if I didn't see a flicker of sadness cross her face when she saw
her keys safely with me.  In order not to disappoint her, I left her
feet locked together and her hands locked behind her all day.

"Master?" she asked during lunch, when I'd made no move to release her.

"Yes, my pet?" I said, holding a spoon full of soup before her.
 

"I thought you got the keys so you could let me go."

"I said I wanted to get the keys, I didn't say anything about letting
you go.  Are you complaining?"

"No master.  I thought..." Then she caught on.  "I wanna be let go
right now," she said in a singsong voice.

"Oh dear," I said.

Sam finished eating her soup through the bit gag.  After we'd finished
lunch, I put Sam in the boat and I paddled over to the falls.  Around
the bend in the lake we saw that the size of the waterfall had almost
doubled from what it was before, runoff from the lands above, fed from
the storm.  I had made sure Sam's life jacket was securely buckled
around her middle before we set out.  With her hands and her feet
locked together, she couldn't hope to swim, and with the bit locked
between her teeth, she wouldn't be able to close her mouth against the
water; she'd fill up and sink like a rock if we went over.  I didn't
get too close to the falls either.  As we watched, a big up-rooted tree
came over, teetering on the edge for a moment, before crashing down
into the lake.  There were many branches, big and small, floating
around the base of the falls, testament to the forces unleashed by
yesterday's wild weather.

"Lucky that we had such a nice sheltered spot," I said.  "Wouldn't want
to have been camped out in the open yesterday."

"Uggk."

The water around the falls was cool and it was like someone shut off
the hot water tap in our bathtub.  A definite sign that summer was
drawing to a close.  Back at camp, we swam in the shallow water around
the island, or at least I did.  Sam bobbed.  I stayed near her while we
were in the water, keeping a hand on her, making sure she didn't float
away.

Supper that evening was dried chicken and rice from a package, but I'd
also hooked a small perch, so we had both, with some hot biscuits,
cooked in the frying pan before I did the fish.  Sam sat on a pad
beside the table while I prepared dinner.  When I was almost finished
cooking, I stopped and looked at her.

"Nukk.  Shhukk."

"Yes, my pet?  Would you like to be let go?"

"Mmmmm."  She even managed to smile around the bit.  I got her keys
from the food box, where I'd hid them, and I began with her feet.  I
opened the lock between her ankles, then I opened the one for her
hands.  Sam's wrists sprang apart and she let out a little grunt as the
muscles in her shoulders complained about having to shift to a new
position.  After she'd sat down and brought her wrist chain under her
legs and over her feet, I unlocked her gag.  Her hands lay limply in
her lap while she worked the cramp out of her jaw.  I gave her
shoulders a quick rubdown.

"How are you Sam?" I asked.

"I feel good Sir.  Thank you."

"Let's eat."

The rice dish was ready and I quickly fried the fish fillets in a
little butter, then we sat down to a nice meal.  I let Sam do the
cleanup afterwards.

It got colder that evening so I built up a big fire to keep us warm.
The forecast was for unsettled weather for the next few days, with
colder temperatures.  I asked Sam how she felt about leaving.

"I could stay here with you forever master," she said.  "But I know we
can't.  If you think that we should go, than we'll go."

"There's only a couple more freeze dried meals left," I said.  "There's
biscuit mix, and cereal.  Noodles and cheese.  I could go for a Big
Mac, extra fries."

"Or a pizza?"

"Chicken and ribs."

"And fries?"

"And gravy on the fries."

It was decided; we'd leave in the morning.  Later on, in bed, Sam asked
if I'd lock her up, tightly.

"You're not going to sleep too well," I warned her.

"That's O.K."

"You're not going to keep me up all night, are you?"

We only had the light of the candle in the tent, but she saw my grin.

"I'll try not to, sir."

The bit gag went on first and I had her put her hands behind her back,
so I could lock her wrist chain to the chain on the gag.  Her hands
were at the middle of her back.  I used a lock to lock her ankles
together.  I used another to connect her wrists together and I brought
her feet up so her heels touched her bum, then I hooked the loose chain
from her ankles onto the lock at her wrists, taking out all of the
slack, and clicking the lock closed.  That left me with one lock left,
and I looked for a place to put it.

"Mmmm.  MMMM!"

If Samantha tried to bring her feet down, the ankle chain would pull
her hands down and the wrist chain would pull the bit tighter into her
mouth.  She rolled from her stomach to her side, then over onto her
back, laying on her feet and hands.  Like that, her feet were pressed
tighter to her bum, giving her a little more slack, but her head was
pushed up causing the bit to get pulled tighter into her mouth.

"OAAAGGGH!"

She rolled back over, onto her chest.  She began to fight the chains
with the rubber bit clamped tight between her teeth.  She crossed her
ankles and spread her thighs apart.  Her labia rings twinkled in the
feeble candlelight, and I'd found the place for the fourth lock.

"Hold still Samantha," I said in a commanding voice.

I put my hand on her ankles and pressed her feet to her bum, giving her
slight comfort.  The lock was big, her rings small.  Carefully I slid
the shackle through them both, gently I pressed the lock closed, then I
laid the body of it against her flesh, and let it go.  Samantha lifted
her hips up a little, letting her pussy lips take the full weight of
the lock.

"Mmmmm."

I didn't like the way her most delicate flesh looked, stretched by the
heavy lock, but she didn't seem too troubled by it.  She lowered her
pussy down to let the lock rest on the blanket, then lifted herself up
again, letting the rough body of it slide slowly across her clit,
letting its weight pull on her labia.  She closed her thighs tightly
together, trapping the lock between them, pressing its bulk hard to
her.  Her strict bondage and the gag wedged deep within her mouth now
suddenly seemed easier for her to endure.

Sam began to slowly roll her thighs together, shifting around the big
lock pressed against her pussy.  She opened her legs a bit to let it
drop down on the blanket, then slowly humped her hips up and down as
the lock rubbed against her.  All the time her hands and her feet were
twisting within the taut chains that were pulling on the bit gag in her
mouth.  She'd lift her head up, push on the gag with her tongue to get
it seated between her teeth, then clamp her mouth down on it and ride
the lock some more.

I sat cross-legged on the floor of the tent, just watching her
struggle, touching her at times, feeling wonderment at this beautiful
beast in her valiant fight to bring herself off.  It didn't really take
long at all before she was thrashing wildly; her thighs clamped tight
together, trapping the heavy lock to her, cumming like there'd be no
tomorrow.  I lent a hand, guiding her motions, ready to catch the lock
if she let it loose, not wanting her to hurt herself, which would be
quite easy for her to do with the way she was so tightly bound.  I
slipped a hand under her and felt the juices pouring out of her,
feeling the hard lock poking out from between her clenched thighs,
vibrating almost, with the power of her cum.  She was locked tight in
the depths of an endless orgasm, shaking and writhing in the chains,
screaming loud around the bit.

Finally, I could feel the force that gripped her loosen slightly, her
shaking slowed, the tension in her chains decreased, and she began to
sink down, exhausted, onto our bed.  I pressed down on her feet to give
her some relief from the pull on her mouth.  I had the keys handy and I
tried first one, then the next, getting the right one on the third try.
I opened the lock at her wrists to let her lower her legs.

When Sam at last returned to the land of the living, I had her open her
legs and I took the lock off her rings.  After finding the right key, I
held the lock closed so it wouldn't pop open and smack her, then I
turned the key while slowly letting the shackle spring open.

"Nnunnss."

"Was that nice, Sam?" I asked.  "Did you like that?"

"Mmmm."

I had her roll over onto her side and I got in behind her.  By stroking
her breasts and nuzzling her neck around the chain, it didn't take very
long before she was ready to go again.  I slipped my cock up into her.
Sam had pretty well worn herself out before, but she did manage a weak
orgasm when I came, jerking her hands down, trying to grab me, yanking
the bit tighter into her mouth each time.

After we'd finished, I opened the lock on the gag, releasing her hands
along with it.  I leaned over and blew out the candle and we slept for
a while.  Sam's hands were free, but her wrist chain still held them
behind her back.  At some point in the night, I woke needing to pee.
Sam followed me out into the chilly night air, she knelt just outside
the tent with her feet out behind her and relieved herself, then duck
walked, or duck shuffled was more like it, back to bed.  She got her
hands back in front of her, I zipped up the tent and the bag, piled
blankets over us, then slept like a rock till morning.

The first thing I did the next morning was make a big fire.  It was
bloody cold.  I went over the map with Sam during breakfast.

"We'll get out of here, but make camp not much further along," I said.
"I don't know how hard it's going to be getting the stuff up that hill,
the trail looked pretty bad yesterday.  Might take a while."

"O.K."

I looked at her.  She looked glum.  We'd piled on all of our clothes
and Sam had a blanket wrapped around her as well.  "What's wrong, Sam?
You don't look very happy."

"I'm O.K.  Just a little sad that we're leaving."

"We can do this again next year if you want."  Her mood brightened a
bit at that, whether it was from thinking about another trip, or
hearing me say we'd still be together next year, I was unsure.  I knew,
however, that I would never part from my lovely Samantha.

We got going, eventually.  After taking the tent and tarp down, we
packed everything into the canoe.  I poked through the fire pit, taking
out the bits of foil and metal tops from frozen juice tubes that didn't
burn.  I went around the campsite, removing all traces of our stay,
leaving the place as pristine as we'd found it.  I stashed the bag of
garbage into the boat and we were off.

The slope wasn't as bad after having a day to dry out.  Not as
slippery, at least.  The rope I'd left there made it easier for Sam to
climb up, then I tied the canoe on and she pulled while I pushed.  We
got it over the fallen tree, with the higher one that leaned over the
trail I had to use my saw, to cut a few branches off underneath, to
make a tunnel we could slide the boat through.  I bundled a lot of our
gear in a tarp and we hauled that up, then I made another trip for the
last few items.

Down the other side and to the river, we paused to wash off the muck
from our legs and load up the boat.  Sam got in and I pushed it out,
then climbed in.  From the little bay, I steered north and west, away
from Shangri La.  The river seemed higher, the current stronger, but we
were travelling with it so it worked to our advantage.  Sam didn't have
to paddle, I only had to steer the boat, laying in a couple strokes
every now and then as we floated along between the high hills.  I
played out my thick rope into the water to wash the mud off it.  In a
couple of spots, tall trees had fallen into the river, blown over in
the storm.  One blocked the way so we had to get out to negotiate the
boat around it.  Around mid afternoon, we reached the long narrow lake
we'd camped at on the way in and I called a halt.

"If we camp here, we can camp again after the long portage, like we did
on the way in," I told Sam.  "I'm not in a big hurry to get back, are
you?"

"No.  That sounds good."

I got a fire going while Sam put together a pot of noodles and water
for lunch.  She made the macaroni and cheese while I set up the tent.
We mixed up some dough to make pan fried hotcakes, having a few with
jam later on.

"How long have we been out here anyway?" I asked.  We counted it up.
Our six-day trip had somehow stretched into nine days now and we still
had a ways to go.

"God, Sam," I exclaimed, "you've had those chains on for nine days now?
Are you alright?"

"God, Jim," she said mockingly, "I've never felt better."

"You must be sore, not being able to stretch out properly."

"I am a little.  But I'm not complaining," she quickly added, not
wanting to get the gag.

I laughed.  I wasn't going to gag her.  I was interested in hearing how
she felt, and I asked her to tell me.

"I've always wondered how it would be," she said, "to be chained up for
a long time like a prisoner in a dungeon or something.  I'd fanaticized
about it, thought about what it would be like.  But this," she shook
her hands, making her chain tinkle, "this trip, it's all been so nice,
really fantastic.  We had a good time, and you've been so kind to me.

"When you'd make me walk through the woods carrying stuff, I'd imagine
that there'd be someone behind me with a whip, whipping me to make me
walk faster.  Even in the boat today, all I could think about is how I
was chained up in a boat and being taken someplace, somewhere where
something bad was going to happen to me."

"Those are dark thoughts, Sam.  You know I'd never let anything bad
happen to you."

"I know you wouldn't," she added, "and I don't really want to have
something like that happen.  On the last trip, you whipped me every
day.  Each time was better than the last one.  It was wonderful, Jim.
This time you only spanked me a bit that one time.  I know you said you
didn't want to do it, that you don't think it's right.  I'll understand
if you don't want to, but could you?  Before we leave here?"

"Beat you with a stick?" I asked.

Sam smiled.  "Or with your belt."

"It's not that I don't want to, Sam.  I told you I didn't think it was
right, but it's not that I don't like doing it to you.  Watching you,
on the last trip, I had no doubt that you enjoyed it, and even when I
spanked you the other day, I saw how turned on you got.  It's when I'm
doing that, whipping you; it's hard for me to know when to stop.  It's
difficult to keep myself in control.  I'm afraid that I'll go too far
and really hurt you."

"I trust you Jim, you know that.  You told me that I've put my life in
your hands out here.  That first time, in your basement when you
whipped me?  You said you'd only give me as much as I could take.  That
made me feel safe so I could not worry so much and just enjoy it.  Last
night when you chained me up so tight, with the gag and everything, it
was awesome.  Every time I moved it hurt, all over.  But, you know,
when I was cumming?  All I could think about was if. . . Well."

"Go on," I coaxed

"If you'd been whipping me too."

I sat for a while, digesting what Samantha had told me just now.  She
looked anxious, as if she had talked too much, had perhaps pushed me
too far.

Finally, I spoke.  "Sam, I'd hoped that the bondage alone would have
been enough for you on this trip."

"It has Jim.  I've really liked being chained up for all this time."

I went on.  "I enjoy giving you pleasure, more than you know.  Seeing
you like that, all hot and bothered, and knowing it was my doing that
got you that way, it's great.  You're one of those types that can turn
pain into pleasure.  You need it, and it's something you'll have to be
careful about.  Pain slut is a term I've heard, pain junkie is another.
It's the endorphins that the body releases when under attack or in
pain.  It can get to be like a drug that you find you can't live
without.  Drugs can destroy someone's life, but drugs can be taken in
moderation too, and if you can live with keeping it under control and
not letting it control you, then we can come to some kind of
arrangement.  I'll give you your pain Sam, all that you can handle.
But I won't let it ruin you.  You can have what I give, but you have to
trust that I'll know when you need it and when to give it."

Sam thought for a moment.  "I love you master," she said.

"This might be our last night with no people around," I said.  "Do you
want to make it special?"

Sam asked me if I had something in mind.

Oh, I had an idea, all right.  "It's going to involve you hanging
upside down from a tree," I said.

I set Sam busy with fixing supper while I scouted a location for the
scene I had in mind.  A little ways into the bush, I came across a
clearing of sorts and the ruin of an old building of some kind.  Just a
few logs left, an old cabin it could have been.  It was in a low valley
so we'd be hidden from view of the lake, and the area was pretty clear
except for one tall tree, a thick branch sticking out about twenty feet
up.  Just when you need something, it falls in your lap.  Isn't life
grand?

There was a swampy area with a small stream a little further back in
the woods.  I scraped clean an area for a fire near to the tree.  I
knew you're not supposed to make fires except in a fire pit in a
campsite, but this was an emergency.  The park rangers would
understand, I thought as I worked.  I gathered up dead wood from
around, then I went back to our camp site for supper.  While we ate, I
filled Sam in on the details of the plan.

"There's a place not far from here," I said.  "We'll go after dark.  It
might get cold tonight but I'll make a fire to keep me warm.  You'll be
hanging from a tree by one foot."

"Won't that hurt?" Sam asked.

I gave her "the look."

"Oh."

"I'll make this good for you Sam.  I plan to have fun, too.  I won't be
hitting you too hard, but I think it's going to be a long session."

I'd seen that image on the net someplace, maybe in one of those
Japanese rope bondage sites.  A girl hanging from one foot, a rope tied
around her ankle.  I was trying to think if the rope hung on the inside
or the outside of the foot.  A foot can turn inwards, but not the other
way.  I went to Sam, who was doing the dishes down by the lake.  I had
her sit and I took her foot in my hands, feeling around her ankle and
twisting her foot.  I used her chain, putting it on one side, then the
other, pulling on it a bit.

"The outside," I said.

"What?"

"Oh nothing," I said.  "Just checking."

We sat around the fire after supper, Sam's anticipation, and mine,
growing.  The air wasn't getting as cold as it had the past few days.
Another sign that the gods of bdsm were looking down upon us.  Finally,
when it started to get dark I stood up, then began to gather up the
things I'd need.

I had Sam wear only her thicker poncho, no shoes, no skirt.  Her hair I
brushed out, and left loose down her back.  I made her carry the coil
of thick rope.  There was still enough light that she could see the
path ahead so she didn't step on any sharp rocks or sticks along the
way. We walked over the hill and down into the valley.

Sam gasped when she saw the tree, the only thing in the little
clearing.  I took the rope from her and shook it out, then tossed the
end up over the branch.  I tied the end to her wrist chain, then
hoisted her arms up over her head.  I walked the other end around the
tree trunk a few times and tied it off.  Then I got busy starting the
fire.  I sat with my back to her while waiting for the flames to catch,
and I thought about what was about to occur.  Finally I got up and went
to her.  I could see in her eyes she was getting aroused, and I
detected a little trepidation in there as well.

"We're going to use a safe word this time Sam," I said to her.  "You
know what that is?"

"I say a certain word and we stop." she replied.

"We'll pause," I told her.  "We'll stop the scene and I'll ask you
what's wrong.  If you want to change something and continue, I will.  I
don't think your foot's going to get injured from this, but if you feel
it's getting torn off you tell me, O.K.?  We've still got a lot of
walking to do tomorrow, or the day after.  You might need to rest up
tomorrow."

"All right."

"The safe word is "Safeword".  O.K.?  If you need to use it, I'd better
hear it."

"Yes sir."

"Good."

I untied the rope and lowered her hands.  I untied it from her chain
and told her to take off her poncho, then I tied her wrist chain back
on and hoisted her hands up, higher this time, stretching her until she
was up on her toes.  Then I tied her off.  While there was still a bit
of light remaining, I left her there while I went off into the bush to
find some sticks.

It didn't take me too long to find three nice sticks, each a bit
thicker then the other.  I set them at the base of the tree, then went
over and tossed some more wood on the fire.  Before it got totally
dark, I took a coffee cup and went to the swampy area behind us.
There, I scooped up some of the black, mucky clay, putting it into the
cup and returning to the tree once more.

All that was needed, I thought, was some eerie music, a group of Druids
chanting or something.  A scene from the TV show Xena came to mind, an
Amazon ritual of some kind.  I took my shirt off, kicked off my shoes.
Put more wood on the fire and stood, swaying slightly as it caught and
blazed, hearing the unheard rhythms of something primitive.  I didn't
look at Samantha, but she was probably staring at me as though I'd lost
my mind or something.

The sounds of the crackling fire in the still night air would do.  I
bent low to snatch the coffee cup of slime and with three bold steps I
stood before her, looking deep into her eyes.  Slowly, I scooped up two
fingers of muck, then drew them across my bare chest, making a line.  I
painted another line of goo across my forehead and two vertical ones
down my cheeks.  My eyes never left hers.

Two more fingers of the black, sticky clay and I made a line from Sam's
left shoulder, down the inside of her breast, and down to her navel.
Another scoop, and down her other side making a curved Vee shape.  I
daubed some muck over each of her nipples, then set the cup down by the
base of the tree.

"Master?"

"Quiet!" I said.  "The captive shall not speak."

I picked up the thickest stick.  I'd snapped it off a dead tree and it
was dry, no give to it at all.  I had no intentions in hitting her hard
with it; there'd be only a deep pain and much bruising if I did.  Sam's
eyes grew wide as I approached her with it and I put it around her in
the small of her back, grabbed the other end, and used it to draw her
body tightly against mine.  I pressed my mouth hard to hers, forced my
tongue past her teeth, and kissed her passionately.  I used the thick
stick to run up and down her body, hitting her lightly in places,
poking her with it as if I was tormenting a beast of some kind.  Sam's
emotions cycled between arousal, fear, and annoyance when I'd stop and
let the stick lay against her skin, pressing it into her flesh, letting
her feel its presence.  I'd pause like that for long minutes with my
eyes closed, listening to the beat of the log drums in my mind.

I was unsure of the time.  I opened my eyes and looked up.  The
crescent of the new moon was rising over the swamp behind us.  I moved
to the base of the tree, set the stick down, and untied Sam's rope.
Her hands dropped and she stumbled a bit, caught unawares by the sudden
change in her stance.  I moved to her, guided her down to lay on the
ground, her bum beneath the branch.  I untied the rope from her chain,
then tied it around her foot using a French bowline knot.  This is a
normal bowline knot, sometimes called a rescue knot, but the rope goes
around the load three times, lending more of the rope's surface to
spread the strain over more of her ankle.  I placed the rope around her
right ankle and fed the end through the twist.  I wrapped three turns
around her ankle and through the twist, then around behind and down
through, adjusted the loops, and pulled the knot up tight.  I
positioned the knot along the outside of her foot.  I raised her foot
up, and with her short hobble chain her other foot had to follow.  I
pulled the slack, then walked the rope around the trunk of the tree.
The bark was rough on this tree, so I got enough friction to hold her
weight with one turn.  Hooking my arm around her leg, I raised her up
and pulled the rope.  As before, I got Sam up off the ground, lifting
her and pulling up the slack in the rope, keeping tension on it while I
reached to get an arm around her again.  I raised her up until her
lovely long hair was free of the ground.  Then, keeping the rope tight,
I walked it around the tree a few more times until I reached the end
and slid it under a turn to tie it off.  I turned to look.

Samantha was hanging from the thick branch by one foot.  Her other leg
was bent slightly, the foot tethered to the higher one by her ankle
chain.  Her body made a slow revolution as the rope settled with her
weight, stretching a bit, the strands untwisting a little.  Just enough
to turn her around once and let me get the full effect.  I was drawn to
her.  I had to lay hands on that deliciously erotic vision before me.
I stepped up to her to gently, reverently touch her thigh.  I felt the
muscles in her leg quivering with the strain.  I ran my hand up to her
knee, her calf, stretched tight.  Her other leg hanging from the chain
felt soft, loose.  Her thighs were parted slightly, and in the
firelight I could see her pussy lips, the shiny rings, her obvious
arousal.

I'd told myself that I'd push this thing straight through, and a big
part of me wanted to take up the switch and begin.  But I felt such
empathy for my pretty captive creature, plus, I just wanted to know.  I
got down on my knees and faced her.  I looked into her eyes and spoke.
Quietly, I asked.  "Are you all right Sam?"  Sam's face was very red
with the blood pooling in her head.  I was having the opposite problem,
but never mind.

"May the captive speak?" she asked.

I chuckled softly.  "Yes.  Tell me how you feel."

"It's not as bad as I thought it would be, Sir.  I feel the pull on my
foot, but it's not hurting me."

"That's good, yes?"

"Yes.  Sir?  It's hard to think with the blood pounding in my head."

"Is that bad?"

"I...No."

"Good."

She was deep into that special place that only a submissive person
knows, or can truly understand.  Softly, I touched her lips with my
finger.  My eyes were drawn to the lines of mud I'd painted on her
chest earlier.  As I stood up, I followed them.  A big arrow pointing
upwards, to her center.  I placed a finger there, between her thighs,
between the lips of her pussy.  I rubbed her a little there, feeling
her heat and her wetness.  I felt Sam's hands touch my knees, then her
fingers started to work their way up my legs.  I should have locked her
hands behind her, I thought to myself.  But then they'd just be in the
way later.  She reached for the zipper of my shorts and I stepped back
away from her.

"The captive shall not touch!" I said loudly.

Sam's hands dropped and she brought her foot up to close her legs.  Her
chains tinkled as she moved.  She'd been taken aback by my sharp
command, and she was unsure as to what was happening or what she'd done
to incur my wrath.  I stood waiting.  Her foot lowered to the chain's
limit after a few moments and I gazed hungrily at her open slit once
more.

Stepping behind her, I pushed my face between those lovely thighs and
touched my tongue to her clit, inhaling her heady musk.  Sam's thighs
trembled as I slowly drew my tongue through her slit, tasting her
sweat, mixed with the bittersweet tang of her heat.  I placed my hands
on her thighs, pressing to open her wider, then I feasted on her
delicious center.  Hooking my tongue through a ring, I pulled it into
my mouth, stretching the skin, then nibbling on her chewy lip.  I did
the same to the other one, biting down as hard as I dared on that soft
flap of skin, hearing only a low growl of lust from Samantha.  Except
for that initial, brief contact, I avoided her clit.  This scene was
not about getting her off.  Well, it was, but not in any traditional
sense.  I'd be pushing limits this night, my own.  Of what Samantha's
limits were, I still had no real clue.

I licked her pussy furiously, drawing the lips into my mouth and
flicking my tongue across the slippery inner surfaces, pushing in as
deep as I could go.  Then, broad strokes of my tongue, lapping at her
from asshole to just short of her oh-so-sensitive clitty.  She'd buck
her ass back, trying to gain that extra quarter inch, and I'd lift off
for a few seconds, driving her mad with frustration.

When she was just on the edge, just about to cum, I stepped back and
away from her, leaving her swinging slightly as she pressed her thighs
together, twisting and writhing in a futile effort to cum.  I waited as
she came down, until her foot dropped, snapping the ankle chain tight,
and she hung still, breathing hard, moaning occasionally with need.

I went to the fire and threw on more wood.  Then I took up a stick, the
thinnest one.  I stood to her side, listening, to that strange music,
the beat of drums, in my head.  The drumbeats reached a crescendo, and
stopped.  The logs in the fire shifted, the wood popping once, twice,
loudly, sending a column of sparks high into the air.  I swung the
switch hard striking Sam's ass cheek square across, making her yelp in
surprised pain.  Without giving her a chance to adjust to the shock, I
swung again.  And so it began.  This was a nice stick I'd found, good
and springy, lots of snap to it.  Over and over I smacked her.  Her
motions set her swinging and twisting on the rope, presenting me with
new targets as I simply stood there slashing out with the stick.  I was
barely even aware of where my blows were landing.  With her strung up
like she was, there was an ever present number of juicy targets
available for the switch to seek out.  I fell deep into my role as The
Thrashing Machine, the giver of pain, torturer of flesh.

Sam had cum, I was vaguely aware, soon after I'd begun.  Her screams of
passion loud in the still night air, a jet of girl cum arcing from her
pussy, dribbling down her body.  The wood in the fire popped again,
sparks shooting high, my arm swinging in an easy rhythm, painting red
coloured lines across her beautiful skin.  Back and forth, upwards,
downwards.  I worked the stick over her.  There was something we'd
talked about, I was thinking.  A safeword.  Was that it I was hearing?
No.  Sam was moaning gibberish punctuated by loud shrieks as another
massive orgasm ripped through her.  She kicked out with her free foot,
snapping the hobble chain tight, the steel links ringing sweetly.  I
reached up and slashed down, the spring of the wood following the arch
of her sole, contacting the bottom of her left foot in a stinging line
of exquisite fire.  Again I slashed her there, following her foot
upwards as her leg spasmed and straightened.  I stretched to smack her
other foot, the one caught by the rope, and she shook, kicking out hard
to the extent of her chain, cumming hard again.

It continued without pause, my slashing at her writhing form hanging by
one foot from a tree.  My lovely Samantha's body, her legs, even on her
arms, criss-crossed with nasty looking stripes.  With the dim
firelight, I would not know the true extent of the damage till
morning's light.  And so, somewhat oblivious to what I was really
doing, seeing and hearing only the fire in Samantha reaching heights
ever higher, us both playing our appointed roles to the hilt, it
continued.

I felt and I heard the fibres of the stick in my hand begin to let go.
I stopped and felt along its length.  There was a soft spot near the
middle where the wood had split open.  Walking in a trance-like state
to the base of the tree, I paused.

The fire had burnt down to embers with just a few feeble licks of flame
left, flickering pitifully.  I turned to Samantha, saw her hanging
there, and heard her sobbing softly.  Her breath hitched in her chest
as she moaned, trembling, and her body reacted to the hurting in the
only way it knew how, by pushing another tiny cum through her exhausted
body.

I took up the flashlight to shine it upon her.  The sight that greeted
me shocked me to my very core.

"Oh my God," I mumbled softly.  "What have I done."

Her skin had small cuts in several places, tiny spots that had leaked a
few drops of blood.  She was crossed with bright red lines everywhere.
She hung lifelessly now as I played the light over her and I began to
grasp the real extent of what I'd done to her.  But as I bent down to
see her face, holding the light between us, her eyes flickered open and
she looked at me.  Her eyes held the spark of the universe in them,
bright, happy, ever so alive.

"M...Master?"

"Yes, little one?" I managed.

Her body trembled and she smiled, a little aftershock shook her.

"Master.  Safeword."

I'd brought a soft blanket, which I spread, out under her.  I got the
rope untied and slowly, carefully, I lowered her down.  It was as I was
untying the rope from her ankle that she lifted her head, wincing in
pain as she did so, and spoke to me.

Her low, husky voice, strong and steady.  "It's so beautiful, Master.
Thank you.  Thank you."

"Sam, you look a mess," I told her.  "I think we've gone too far here."

"Oh no, Sir.  You were wonderful.  It's all absolutely perfect."

"We'll see how you feel in the morning," I said.  "Let's go."

I gently bundled her up in the soft cotton blanket and, leaving
everything except the flashlight, I carried her back to camp.  There, I
set Sam down near the water.  I had the fire prepared and I lit it,
then got a washcloth from inside the tent.  Sam was sitting up when I
returned, and I wet the cloth in the cool lake water, then began to
carefully clean the dried mud, sweat, and blood from her.  After I'd
cleaned her off and examined her more closely, I saw that the places
she was cut weren't quite as bad as I'd first thought.  It wasn't good,
but at least I felt there'd be no real permanent damage.  Sam was wide
awake as I cleaned her, touching me gently, lovingly, her eyes dancing,
bright with life.

I felt around her ankle where she'd been strung up and she groaned
softly.  I pressed my fingers in a bit and she groaned louder.  I'd
hurt her there and I could feel a bit of swelling beginning.  Dipping
the cloth in the cool water, I laid it on her ankle, under the chain.
I daubed some antibiotic cream on her injuries, rubbed her everywhere
else with the skin lotion I had while she drank a glass of juice I'd
given her.

I moved her closer to the water and had her sit so she could soak her
foot in its coolness.  A little later on, we were sitting around the
fire, bundled in blankets, talking.

"Are you feeling better, Sam?" I asked her.

"I've never felt better.  That was really nice, Jim.  Thanks."

"You must be sore."

Sam giggled.  "Everywhere.  That's what's so nice about it; everything
hurts as much as everywhere else.  You're really good at it, Sir."

"Hrump," I grunted.  "We'll see how it looks in the light of day."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Sam.  Samantha?"

"Yes sir?"

"I love you."

"I love you," she answered.

It must have been the middle of the night when I carried Sam into the
tent and put her to bed.  I gave her another gentle rubdown with the
skin lotion and it seemed to help ease some of her pain.  Her ankle
that she'd been hanging from had swollen up a bit more, and I kept a
close eye on it throughout the night.  If it swelled too much, her
chain would tighten up on her and strangle her foot.  I had the hacksaw
blade in the tent pole in case I had to cut her chain off, but I was
hopeful that it wouldn't come to that.  I soaked the washcloth in cool
water again and wrapped it around her ankle.

I slept on and off throughout that night, laying beside my sweet girl,
my poor tortured little creature, or sitting alone out by the fire,
wondering how things had gone as far as they did in the clearing behind
us.  I ran the scene through my mind, watched myself grow ever more
callous in my actions towards her.

I'd given her an out, the safeword.  But it hadn't been until the end,
until after, and she must have realized that I was stopping the scene,
that she'd said it.  She, I began to realise, had given me the out, had
permitted me to stop.

Could she have taken more?  Was she left wanting more?  Had I unleashed
a monster within that beautiful girl that had become more precious than
life to me?

The chirps of birds signalled the end of night and I noticed a faint
glow in the eastern sky.  I went to her.  Feeling around her ankle, my
cold hands waking her.  She stared lovingly into my eyes.

"Morning gorgeous," I said.

Sam winced as she shifted to a sore spot, or a spot more sore.  I felt
her ankle had swollen bigger, the chain around it snug, but not yet
dangerously tight.  My hands infused coolness into her injured foot as
she warmed me.

"What time is it?" she asked me.

"Dawn," I said.  "Early.  Go back to sleep."

"Need to pee," she stated.

I helped her up and out of the tent.  I supported her as she squatted
outside and relieved herself.  I helped her to her feet and she tested
her ankle a bit.  It didn't seem like there was anything too seriously
wrong with it, certainly not broken.  Slightly sprained, perhaps.  I
held her as she hobbled down to the water to soak her foot in the cold
water.

Now, with the brighter light, I could better see the pains I'd caused
her.  Two of the spots where I'd cut her skin had bled a little more
and I fetched the antibiotic cream, some tissues, and a roll of tape.
I bandaged Sam in four or five spots before I was satisfied, She,
watching me, looked upon me with such love and devotion that I had to
pause and kiss her tenderly.

"It's all right, master," she said in response to the worried look I
had.

"I know Sam," I said.

I didn't like to see her all marked up like that.  But she had wanted
me to do it, and there'd been no doubt she'd derived great pleasure
from the session.  Who was I to deny her that?  I made her a glass of
juice and gave her a couple of aspirins while she soaked her foot in
the lake.  Later on, I carried her back to bed, laying down beside her,
feeling her, feeling the rough welts upon her precious skin.  Sam
slept, as did I, after a while.  Hunger woke me at some point and I
carefully got up so as not to wake Samantha.  I pulled on some clothes
and went out to make some coffee.  Finding only one cup, I remembered
having left things back at the tree in the clearing behind, so I went
to get them.  Over the hill and at the top I paused, staring long at
the tree I'd hung Sam from, the thick rope still looped over the
branch.  I slowly walked towards it.  The campfire, a ring of ashes
left.  Trampled down grasses and plants.  The place had a feel to it
now, you could sense something evil happened there.  I pulled on the
rope to bring it down and coiled it up.  Sam's poncho, thrown
carelessly aside.  My shirt.  I used a branch to scatter the ashes of
the fire, attempting to erase the evidence of that scene last night,
trying to diffuse the thoughts running through my mind.  I gathered up
the things I'd left and returned to camp.  Sam must have heard me
bustling around.  While I made the coffee, I heard her chains jingling.
A minute later, I saw her come out of the tent.  She smiled when she
saw me, then wandered off to the toilet.  I watched her hobble back and
come to me, then she placed her hand on my arm.

"Sam," I began, "I'm sorry for..."

She raised her hand, placed a finger on my lips.  "Please, Master," she
said.  "No more."

"But."

"No," she said.  "Yesterday I asked you to do something for me.  You
did it and made it the most beautiful thing.  Better than I ever
imagined it could be."

"I?"

"Yes, you," she interrupted, "and me.  You did to me what I wanted you
to do.  Yes, I'm sore now.  My foot hurts, hell, I hurt all over.  But
the pain will go away, the marks will disappear over time.  But the
memory of what happened, the way it made me feel, inside, it's
something that's burned into my soul forever.  We might never do that
again.  I hope that I get the chance to feel those feelings again some
time, but if not, I still have the memory of last night within me.
I'll carry those memories with me until the end of time.

"This week, this trip, it's been the most fantastic week of my life
Jim.  Everything has worked out so well.  I don't want to see you
feeling bad about last night, I want you to share in the happiness and
the peace that I'm feeling.  Please?"

Sam let the blanket she was wearing slip from her shoulders and fall to
the ground.  She knelt down naked upon it.  Knees spread apart, hands
on her thighs, her chain hanging in front of her pussy.  I managed to
crack a smile.

"You've got band-aids stuck all over you," I said.  I handed her my
coffee and knelt beside her.  I began to peel the makeshift bandages
off her.  I was starting to see her, the markings on her skin, in a
different light now.  Not as marks of shame, for she felt no shame in
displaying herself to me.  More as badges of honour, I began to
realise.  That she would honour me so as to submit herself to my lash,
and that she could be so at peace with both me and herself at the
conclusion, made her markings something very special.  She would heal
in time.  A couple weeks perhaps, and all traces of it would be gone.
But our time in the clearing last night would be a shared experience
that would bind us both together for a long time to come.  After I'd
got all the tape off her, I rolled it into a ball and tossed it at the
fire.

"You're right Sam," I said to her.  "I have to tell you that I did
enjoy our time last night.  I guess I was just feeling a little guilty
at perhaps taking so much pleasure at your expense."

I took her hands in mine.  "Seeing you hanging like that in the tree,
you looked so beautiful, so vulnerable.  Men have been conditioned for
centuries not to do things like that to a woman.  Anyone seeing you
chained up like this, they'd think "Oh look at the poor girl chained
like an animal, we must save her from an evil fate."

"It doesn't matter that we're a happy couple, it's "Bad".  Anyone
witnessing that scene last night, they'd call the SWAT team down on my
head.  "Kill the monster" they'd shout, jab me with their pitch forks,
drive me into the swamp."

That got her laughing.

"You see?" I asked.  "How can I think it's O.K.  to hang you upside
down and whip you with a stick in the face of criticism like that."

"Master?"

I smiled.  "Yes?"

"I'm hungry."

The sun was high, it must have been noon.  I got some clothes for Sam
and then looked through the food box.  Finding a freeze-dried beef stew
I dumped it into a pot of water and then mixed up some biscuit mix.
Sam cooked the hot cakes in the frying pan over the fire since we'd run
out of fuel for the camp stove.  When the stew was heated, we ate.  The
swelling in Sam's ankle had gone down somewhat, the chain around it was
a little looser than before.  Around mid afternoon when the sun was
warmest we took a wash in the lake, then dried off and went to bed.  I
lay on my back, Sam climbed on top, her knees around my ears and her
feet up above my head.  She slid herself down an inch or two, pressing
herself to my face as she took me into her mouth.  Her legs looked like
those of a zebra, red and pink though, rather than black and white.  I
marvelled at the evenness of where I'd placed the marks.  I could
remember not even looking, just doing it by feel, almost a sixth sense
taking over as to where to hit her next.  Marvellous, it was truly
wonderful.

Samantha kept squirming around on top of me, trying to gain a more
comfortable position.  She'd shift herself this way and that, but she
had whip marks all over her and after a while she quit moving around to
just concentrate on the task at hand.

I was busy too, licking that delicious pussy of hers.  She'd take my
cock deep and grind herself against my mouth, shuddering as a little
ripple of pleasure flowed through her.  Then she started working my
cock with a purpose, ready to bring me off.  Sam's cunt was wet but
she'd not yet cum.  Was she in pain I wondered.  Pain wouldn't stop her
from cumming, I knew that.  She was holding back, waiting for the
master to cum first.  Eagerly I attacked her pussy with my mouth,
sucking her clit in and swirling my tongue around it.  I was close now.
I was bucking my hips up in time with her, pushing myself deeper down
her throat.

It began as a tingling in my four corners, my fingers and toes.  It
gathered steam, then came together in a great rush, blasting into that
sweet creature on top of me.  I came, followed a heartbeat later by
Samantha.  Her cunt seemed to open up, threatening to swallow me, and
she writhed upon me as I pushed my tongue deep into her, her nectar
flowing down my throat as mine pulsed into hers.  Sam rolled off me
after a while and we lay there, coming down from the rush.  Her feet
were near to my head and I took them into my hands, softly stroking
them with my fingers.  I looked at the bottoms, two red lines on one,
one on the other.  I traced the marks with a fingertip.  Sam's toes
curled around my finger and she smiled at me.

"You're beautiful Samantha," I said.

"Thank you master."

That evening I dug some worms from under leaves in the woods, tied some
fishing line to a hook and a stick, then took the boat out and caught a
lovely bass.  I cooked the cut up fish in water with instant potato
flakes, powdered milk, and half a nasty looking onion I'd found wrapped
in foil in the food box.  The fish chowder turned out not half bad.

We listened to a far away baseball game on the radio that night while
sitting by the fire.  Sam wasn't hobbling as much now.  She was still
hobbled by her ankle chain, but her foot wasn't as sore, she wasn't
limping like before.

"You feeling O.K.?" I asked.

"Better," she answered.  "My ankle is better now.  Still sore
everywhere else though."

"We've got that long hike tomorrow," I told her, "feel up to it?"

"Don't worry, I'll make it."

"I have a saw blade that can cut metal," I told her.  "I could get your
ankle chain off you, if you want."

Sam looked at me in surprise.  "You have something here to get my
chains off?  I thought the idea was that I'd be stuck like this for the
whole trip."

"If you fell and broke something, you saw how your ankle swelled up.  I
wanted to be sure I could take care of you.  That's all."

"Oh.  You're right, Jim.  I see now.  Always be prepared, is that how
it goes?"

"Someone as precious as you, yes."

"No," Sam said.  "I started out with these chains on and that's how
I'll leave here.  And Jim, thanks for being prepared."

Next morning we had a quick breakfast of oatmeal, then packed up and
left.  We paddled the long lake to the mouth of the river leading to
the portage.  When we came to the beaver dams, we found that the storm
runoff had taken out sections of the first two, making a space that the
canoe could pass through with little problem.  On the third dam, the
boat got hung up, but by pushing with both paddles I got us over it.
We only had to get out into the water to haul the canoe over the last
one.

Along the little stream and we found the start of the long portage.

Sam made two trips half way, down hill this time so it wasn't too bad.
I thought we'd get to the main trail and stop, letting her rest while I
went to get the remaining things.  When the gear was together we did
the other half along the wider main part.
 

There really wasn't anything quick to eat so we skipped lunch and
pressed on.  It was around mid afternoon when we reached the lake and
made camp on the little island we'd stopped at on the way in.  I got a
fire going for Sam to make macaroni and cheese and hotcakes.  I set up
the tent.  Clouds had rolled in during the afternoon and now the sky
was covered with them, dark rain clouds.  It wasn't hot and muggy so I
doubted that we'd get lightning.  The small island would give little
shelter during an electrical storm since there were only a few tall
trees and they were all close around the campsite.  We finished eating,
then stripped down and had a wash in the cold lake water.  Just as we
were finishing up the rain came.  I stuck the wet towels under the
canoe, them made a dash for the tent.  As the rain pounded down around
us, we sat cuddled together looking out, warm and dry in our little
nest.

"Two more short hikes and we're out of here," I said.  "Back to
civilization.  Miss it?"

"A little," Sam said.  "Miss having a good meal served to me in a nice
restaurant."

"Yesterday's fish soup wasn't bad." I stated.

"No salad, no pie and ice cream for dessert."

"No crunchy bread sticks either," I said.  "Just those tasteless
biscuits."

Sam laughed and I hugged her close.  The rain tapered off to a steady
drizzle and we made slow, gentle love for the first time since the
whipping.  It was different now than before.  Sam had such a calm peace
within her still, leftover from that supercharged experience hanging in
the tree.  Even her manner of speaking was different.  Calm, more sure
of herself.  A serine contentment with herself, with me, and everything
around her.

I got on top, careful not to press down too much on her, and we fucked,
slowly and gently.  Samantha didn't get all crazy like she usually did.
She took it, letting the feelings build up, savouring it as one would a
fine wine or a brandy.  I watched her as it built to a peak within her,
then it overtook her.  Almost a slow motion Samantha cum it was, not
the yelps and frenzied motions but a smooth transition from girl, to
something else.  Something celestial, something that transcended the
here and now, passed beyond, to a more heavenly state of being.

Her orgasm gripped her, but did not control her.  Her cunt gripped me
tight, slowing my strokes, and she opened her eyes to me.  They seemed,
not the pale blue as before, but a deeper, sparkling blue.  She spoke.
"It's so beautiful," she said.  "Cum with me master." There was little
else I could do.  A power seemed to flow from her to me and I came.  A
torrential cum that left me completely drained.  I'd rolled off her and
onto my back.  Sam was on her side, her hands on my chest, stroking me
lovingly.  The rain had stopped, the sun was out.  Sunbeams slanting
through the trees and shining into our little love nest.  All was right
in the world.

Later on, we sat by the fire, listening to tales of woe on the nightly
news reports, a world far removed from our quiet little island.

Next morning, our last one in the wilderness, we ate big bowels of hot
oatmeal, the last spoonfuls of jam giving it some semblance of flavour,
then packed up and hit the water.  We came to the portage around the
marsh and loaded up with as much as we both could carry.  I was walking
ahead when I spotted something out in the marsh.  Perhaps two hundred
yards away, on a spit of land across the open water I saw them.  A
momma bear with three young cubs.

Quietly I set down the packs I was carrying and signaled Sam to move
slowly.  I pointed to the bears.

Samantha set down what she was carrying and moved to my side on the
open trail.  Two cubs play-wrestled with each other while the momma and
one young one stripped leaves, or maybe tasty berries, off a low bush.
We were upwind of the marsh and moments later the mother caught our
scent.  The big bear's head picked up and she sniffed the air, her
beady eyes scanned the shoreline, wary of danger.  Momma bear barked a
low growl and the two youngsters stopped their play to look at her.  I
took Sam's hand in mine.  The big animal seemed to stare right at us,
but I didn't think bears could see far all that well.  It took perhaps
a minute before the animal began to sense we'd pose no danger to her
young and she bent to finish stripping the bush, keeping an eye on both
Sam and I, and her young.

I whispered to Sam, "Come on, lets go."

We gathered up the packs and continued on along the trail.  On the way
back for the boat we looked, and just caught sight of the four bears
heading back into the forest at the far side of the marsh.  Managing to
carry the canoe and the rest of our gear inside it saved me having to
make a third trip back.  The last portage went just as well and in the
early afternoon we rounded the bend in the big lake to catch sight of
the parking lot, my Jeep sitting forlornly in the shade at one side.

The boat grounded out on the sandy shore.  My car keys were in my
clothes bag so I took it up first.  I found them, opened the truck and
clicked the power locks.  Samantha was at my side.  I reached under the
passenger side seat to find the wrench and the screwdriver.  I had Sam
sit down.  I took her hands in mine, we looked into each others eyes.
No words were needed.

Sam's feet were dirty, one ankle bruised and still a bit swollen.  Her
arms and legs had red marks on them, her hair was dirty and tangled.
She looked absolutely, radiantly beautiful.  I was pleased with myself
for having pulled this trip off so successfully, and I felt such fierce
pride in my wonderful girl, for enduring so well all that she'd been
put through.

It took me a while to get the chains off her.  I started with her
hands, fitting the wrench to the nut of the quick links with the
screwdriver through the link to hold it.  The ones for her ankle chain
gave me more trouble since water and sand had got into the threads to
jamb them up.  I sprayed a bit of penetrating oil on them and worked
the nuts back and forth a few times to free them up.

After being chained hand and foot for twelve days, Samantha was finally
free.  She stepped out of the truck and stood in the deserted parking
lot, spread her arms wide, slowly, moving her muscles in a way they
hadn't moved for some time, and smiled a wide smile at me.  Samantha
came to me and gave me a big hug.  She stepped back to put a foot up on
the Jeep's fender and stretched her leg, hiking up her skirt, flashing
her bare pussy at me.  Later on we got our stuff in the truck, the
canoe on top and tied down, and I drove up the park road to the little
town at the end.

Two grubby, bedraggled people entered the motel office, got a room for
the night, then took well needed, hot showers together.  Two clean,
happy people left their room, walked down the hill to the bar and had a
delicious big meal.  We stayed at the bar for most of the evening,
eating, drinking, basking in the afterglow of a very nice vacation.

I saw the park ranger come into the bar and I waived to him. He joined
us for a couple beers.

"I was getting worried about you two," he said.  "Saw your Jeep still
at the end of the road this morning, wondered if you were O.K."

"The weather at the beginning was so nice we stayed longer than I'd
planned," I said.

He asked how we fared when the storm hit.  Apparently there was quite a
bit of damage here in town and around the area.  I told him that the
hills around the lake spared us the worst of the winds.

"That was a nice spot," Sam said.

"I go there myself sometimes," the ranger told us. It's out of the way,
peaceful, quiet."

He caught sight of Samantha's bruised up ankle.  "You hurt your foot
honey?"

"Twisted it on a trail," Sam quickly said.  "It's not too bad now."

I said, "We really had a nice time.  Everything went well.  Had to take
a day off on the way out to rest after my friend hurt her foot, but it
wasn't a big problem."

"Well I'm glad to hear that," he said.  "Hope to see you folks again
next year."

The park ranger left us to join his regular drinking buddies.  We
stayed a little longer, then left the bar to walk up the hill to the
motel.  I watched some T.V. cuddled next to Sam on the bed, we were
asleep shortly after.

We ate huge breakfasts at the diner across the road next morning.
Eggs, bacon, sausage, home fries, toast and jam, lots of good coffee.
It was ten before we drove out of the town, on the road back home.  I
stopped for gas and once more for lunch, we made it home in the late
afternoon.  Samantha helped me unload the truck and I offered to do her
laundry.  She took a handful of fish pellets out back to my fish pond,
saw her fish there happy and well.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" I asked her.

"Sure."

I ordered a pizza for dinner.  We did a few loads of washing, got
things put away.  Sam found the two chains that she'd worn for the
entire trip, and came to me with them.

"Master?"

"Sure Sam."

On Monday of the following week, I landed myself a new job after twenty
minutes of work.  The local newspaper had an ad looking for someone
qualified in network database management.  They'd recently merged with
another paper in a town nearby and needed to organise the two offices
into one.  I updated my resume and printed it out.  I took it and my
laptop to the office, then got an interview right away.  I managed to
impress when I plugged my computer into a phone jack and called up the
hospital database I'd worked on, and still had access to.

"These are patient records but we won't go there," I demonstrated.
"Here is the medical database where doctors can look up almost
anything, medicines, desease symptoms."

I made my pitch to the newspaper's manager and the editor.  "Say
something happens and you'd like to know if it happened before.  Or you
wanted the history on a building in town.  I could set up the archive
editions as a database or we could subscribe to one of the big news
archives.  A reporter at his desk could have access to information
world wide."

That evening I was told I'd got the job.  Next day I met Samantha in
the city and took her out to dinner.  Later on we celebrated back at
her apartment.  We talked a little more about her moving in with me.
She had another five months on her lease, but with the tight rental
market her landlord would probably be more than happy to have her leave
so he could jack up the rent for someone else.

I was busy for the next few weeks with the new job and trying to get
back into the hustle and bustle of life on the outside of the quiet
wilderness.  I'd see Sam in the city or she'd stay at my house for a
couple days.  Three weeks after we'd come back from the trip she spent
the weekend at my place, her two chains on her the whole time.  We had
a wonderful, relaxing weekend.  Some great sex too.

In hindsight, I should have known.  I can read a calender after all.
Samantha called me on Tuesday to come over to her place.  She'd sounded
nervous, or worried about something.  She sat with me on her couch and
spoke those three little words that have struck terror in men for
generations.

"Jim, I'm pregnant," she said.

[ End Chapter 3 "The Ad" ]   dino@canoemail.com