Sharon
by Yashi

Author's Note: This is a work of fiction. Do not try this at home. If you haven’t read my other stories, you may want to as this story ties into two of them. I hold the copy write on it so do not repost or reuse without my permission.

It was Friday afternoon. On my way home from running errands I stopped at the local farm stand, which had just opened for the year. A girl wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt was standing with her back toward me, arranging cans of maple syrup on a shelf. It was the summer of 1967. The Age of Aquarius was just coming of age.

“Hi,” I called.

She turned around. “Yes? Oh, hi Dan, Can I help you?”

“Hi Sharon, I didn’t know you worked here.” I knew her name and that she was the most beautiful girl in our high school. You know, the tall, blond, blue-eyed all-American girl next door —yeah right, none of the girls in my neighborhood came close to Sharon. There was also a rumor that her folks were rich. I was surprised that she knew me; we didn’t travel in the same social circles.

“I just started. Money’s tight, so if I want to go to college in the fall I’ve got to work.”

“I hear you. I’m going in the Navy, before the draft catches up with me. They’ll pay for college when I get out.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“I’m not sure, my uncle worked on boat engines, but that doesn’t mean I have to.”

“I can’t imagine working on a boat on a day like this.”

“It sure is hot. I’m going swimming right after I buy five pounds of those red potatoes.”

She turned and pick up a bag of potatoes and handed then to me. “Want company? It’s so hot I could use a swim too.”

“Sure, when do you get off work?”

She glanced at the clock. “In about ten minutes, four o’clock.”

“Ok, I’ll take a soda too and sit in the truck until you’re ready.” I paid her for the spuds and the soda.

About fifteen minutes later, she came out. It was as if I had never seen her before, yet she had been in my class since sixth grade. Sharon was wearing a skirt that hung to just above her knees and a T-shirt cut off just below her breasts. Puffs of dirt rose in the hot, dry, still air as each bare foot touched the ground; it had been a while since we had a good rain. She climbed in without a word. I started the truck and we headed out.

A few miles up the highway we turned onto a dirt road. I asked Sharon to open the gate so we could drive through. She gave the big 'No Trespassing' sign a long look as she swung the gate open. I drove through and she closed it. We drove between fenced-in pastures and hay fields for half a mile until there was another gate to open and close. After the second gate, the road wound through the woods.

“You ever were out here?”

“No,” she glanced over at me, “I generally don’t go where’s it’s posted.”

“Neither do I.” I didn’t tell her my grandparents owned the land.

The trees thinned out and the road emerged from the woods. To the left a low bank merged into a hill. Across the road, a gate guarded a bridge that led to a little-used road. To our right a stream tumbled between boulders into a pool created by a cement dam. On the far side of the stream a granite ledge rose about 30 feet above the water. I pulled up the road, then backed into the side road, stopping just short of the gate. I shut off the truck and climbed out. Sharon followed me. I stopped at the back of the truck and pulled off my tee shirt and shoes. Wearing just my cut-offs I walked to the sandy beach.

I turned to Sharon who was standing with her arms up stretched, her tee shirt too short to hide her nipples, looking around.

“I love this place,” she said dropping her arms.

I said, “Its ok if you just want to put your feet in, I bet you didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

“Yeah, right. As if I carry a suit around with me,” she giggled, “so when a boy asks me to go swimming I’m ready. Besides I don’t own a suit, never have.” She giggled at my expression.

She pulled her tee shirt over her head and tossed it in the truck. Without hesitation, she pulled her skirt down and stepped out of it. The skirt landed on top of the shirt. Naked, with no hint of modesty she walked down to the stream. She looked up and smiled.

“I’ve been a nudist all my live. I’ve never been into wearing clothes. I drove my mother wild trying to keep me dressed when I was a kid.”

With that, she dove into the water.

After swimming, we talked as we sat on the rocks to dry. Sharon turned out to be a different person than the one I had heard about in school. She was smart and understood that she was beautiful, but she didn’t like flaunting it. She explained she could have earned more money working in town, but she would have had to wear shoes. Instead, she took the job at the farm stand. An hour later, I stood up, I didn’t want the afternoon to end.

“I really enjoyed this, but I’ve got chores.”

“Want some help? If I can borrow a phone, I’ll call my mother and tell her I’ll be late. My dad is out of town so we don’t eat until nine or so.”

“Sure, but it’s mucking out the cows and feeding them hay. My Gramps and Gram have gone to visit a friend on the other side of the state, and they won't be back until the end of the next week. I’m taking care of their place; I've been working for them since I was twelve.”

“That’s cool, let’s go.”

I checked the house while Sharon stood in the middle of the dooryard and surveyed the farm. When I finished I led her into the barn.

“I love this place,” she said.

“Yeah I want to live here, but milking the cows gets old after a while. I might find another way to work the farm. When I go in the Navy, they are going to sell everything except the land and the buildings. I told Gramps to keep a tractor and a mower so we can keep the fields open. Don’t know if he will, but I hope so.”

In the barn, I showed her how to use a scraper to pull the cow shit into the gutter. A endless chain with bars on it carried the shit out to a catch pond. At least twice a year we pumped it out and spread it on the fields.

“When you finish with that, I’ll need you to open the gate,” I opened the back door and point at the gate, “so the cows can get into the pen. I’ll open the door into the milking parlor from the pit.”

“Pit?”

“I’ll show you how it works later. I need to get the milking machines set up.”

“Okay, I’m going out to the truck for a minute. Oh, yeah, is there a phone around I can use?”

I pointed to a wall phone next to the door.

“Thanks.”

I started setting up the milking machines. I heard the screen door slam and looked up. Sharon was walking towards me naked.

“I didn’t want to get my clothes dirty.” She smirked then giggled,

I didn’t say a word - I’d rather watch her then talk. Half an hour later, she walked into the milking parlor, her feet and lower legs covered with cow shit. It didn’t seem to bother her—I thought she looked hot. Did I mention I love all-natural barefoot girls?

I was down in what we call the pit. “Sharon, you asked what the pit is. Well this is the pit, as you can see it is rectangular hole lined with cement. The person who is doing the milking stands in the pit so they don’t have to bend over to reach the cows udders. It’s a lot more comfortable that squatting down next to the cow. Six cows come in and line up three to a side, and the gates are closed behind them. After washing the udders, I put the teat cups on each cow. I also feed them by pulling a handle at each station so each cow gets a set amount of feed.”

I showed her how to pull the handle. “When they're finished milking the cows are released. Your job is to follow them into the barn. Each cow knows where it should go. Most of the time they will stick their heads through the stanchion, all you have to do is push the two parts together. Any questions?”

“How do I know they’re in the right stanchion?”

“Each cow has a number tag in her ear. Above each stanchion is a number, just match them up.”

“That’s easy.”

“You need to move over that way." I pointed towards the milk room. "I’m going to let the cows out and you don’t want to get stepped on.”

She moved out of the way, I opened one side then the other. She followed them out. In a few minutes, she came back.

“What’s next?”

“I need you to go outside to the gate, there are at least three cows outside and they haven’t come in yet. If you walk around them and give them a little encouragement, they will come in.”

“What sort of encouragement?”

“Just talk to them and maybe give one a slap on the butt. Watch where you step, it can be slippery and there’s at least a four inches of shit. I’ll scrape it into the manure pond in the morning. You have to clean it at least every other day.”

When I finished the cows I was milking, I sent them into the barn and opened the door. The last set came in, including the three who were hanging back. Sharon was right behind them.

“Good job, thank you.”

“Next?”

“You need to take care of the cows I just sent out.”

“Ok, right, I forgot.”

“No problem, this is the first time you’ve done this.”

When I finished the milking I washed down the pit and made sure, everything was clean. Sharon stood and watched. I handed her the parts from each station so she could carry them into the washroom. I watched her butt and legs as she walked away. God, she was sexy. I’d never seen a girl with legs that long and fine high-arched feet before. I didn’t dare tell her she should be a model, I might lose her. I got a hard on just watching her.

She asked where she could wash up. I pointed to a shower in the corner of the storage room. She entered it and I heard the water start. I finished up while she showered, and she had just left the shower when the phone rang. It was my mother. She had to go see her sister who was having problems — when wasn’t she having problems? My mother was the only one in the family who would help her. Some weeks she spent more time at my aunt's then she did at home. I didn’t mind, it gave me a lot of freedom. I told her I would spend the night on the farm.

After I hung up Sharon asked, “Do you mind if I spend the night here too?”

I studied her for a moment, “No, you’re more than welcome.”

I noticed she was holding a coil of rope.

“I know we never dated or anything, except if you count today, but I know a lot about you. I watched you at school.” That was news to me, “I asked people who knew you what you were like. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, but I’m still a virgin. I’m on the pill.” Her voice trailed off.

“Ah, well sex is up to you. I like you a lot, but I’m not going to push you into anything you don’t want…”

She held up her hand. “I’ve wanted you since eighth grade, but I never found a way to approach you until today.”

“Okay, well we’ll take it a bit at a time,” I had no idea where this was going. I knew what I wanted, but I wasn’t sure if she was playing me for a fool. All I needed was a phone call in the morning from her giggling friends teasing me about how we slept together.

“I know this sounds crazy, but...” she stopped. I noticed she was digging at the floor with the big toe. She looked up at me, a blush spreading down her body.

“What?” I asked her.

“This is embarrassing, but I have to tell you a story.” She hesitated. I nodded. “When I was 14, I went to Scotland to visit my three cousins for a summer. My cousins, Eric and Tim, are twins and are two years older than me. Their sister, Grace, is only a few months older than I am. They live near Blair more - it’s on the corner of Holy Loch and Loch Long. Their land backs up on an enormous track of land. I think their mother Liz is a bit crazy. The first thing she did was take away my shoes. She told me if I was going to be a “proper Scottish lass” I had to go barefoot. Grace was barefoot when I met her and she never wore shoes the whole time I was there. It was great ‘cause I like going barefoot,” she giggled. “The boys wore whatever they wanted.

"A few days after I got there the four of us went hiking. We carried backpacks with our lunches. About two miles from the house, we entered a valley, or 'glen' as they call it over there. Near the head, someone had dug a shaft into the ledge. It was about five feet tall, maybe three feet wide and at least 100 feet long. At the end was a small room, maybe six by six feet. All of us just managed to fit in. Grace took off her pack and dug out a few candles. As she lit them, she stood them in niches in the walls. I knew they had done this many times, there was a lot of wax on those niches. After that, she did something strange, she took off her dress and put it in her pack. She was naked under it. She told me to strip too, I did and I didn’t have anything under my dress either.

"The boys were busy. They pulled several lengths of rope from their bags. I didn’t know what they intended, but Grace seemed okay with what they were doing. I waited to see what was going to happen. Tim picked up a rope and told me to turn around. He pulled my hands behind my back and lashed them together. He took the ends around in front of me and tied them over my belly. He point at the floor, ‘Sit.’ They tied Grace the same way. I sat on the floor and pulled my legs up so I was cross-legged. Tim mush have known what I was going to do because he lashed my ankles together and ran the rope behind my back around my elbows and tied it off just above my belly button. I couldn’t stretch out my legs so I couldn’t stand up. They fed us lunch and we chatted as if this was completely normal. After lunch, they picked up our bags, blew out the candles, and left us. I asked Grace what to do. She laughed and said, 'Get free, they aren’t coming back. This is a game we pl ay - a friend use to do this with me, but she move away'. We talked about bondage.

"It took some time and effort, but I managed to untie Grace’s arms. She was able to free her legs. She untied my legs, but not my arms. I walked all the way home tied up. To my surprise, I liked it. We did stuff like that for the rest of the summer.”

Puzzled, I said, “So what does that have to do with us?”

“I’d like you to tie me up. Is that okay?”

My answer was kind of dumb. “Sure, what would you like me to do?” I was nervous about her intentions.

“Anything you can think of, I learned a lot in Scotland. I guess it was a family thing. Grace was nude and tied or chained in some manner nearly all the time. We talked, as I said, and she told me she enjoyed it. Her mother held the keys if she was chained. I can’t explain why, it was just something they did. I wasn’t sure at first, but I’ve always gone naked, so adding bondage seemed right. After the cave, I was bound and nude most of the time. Near the end, we went camping for a week. They locked my wrists behind my back with cuffs, then locked the cuffs to a chain around my waist for the whole week. I don’t know how many miles we hiked, but we walked as least five hours a day. I loved the place.”

“Would they have set you free if anything happened?”

“No they didn’t have the keys to my cuffs or the waist chain. They only key opened the lock that connected my ankles to the chain around my waist at night. They called it a hog tie.”

“So you hiked nude for a week with your hands locked behind you and at night you were locked in a hog tie? Must have been pretty hard for you.”

“Not really, it took me a few nights to get used to sleeping bound, but once I got used to that it wasn’t bad at all. It was good I go barefoot all the time or it would have been hard to keep up. We hiked some rough tracks. I’d like to do the same thing with you if you want to.”

I had a hard on by the time she finished. “Let’s see how things go.” I wasn’t trying to be coy, but it isn’t often that an 18-year-old girl you hardly know asks you to tie her up.

She handed me the rope. What the hell, if she wanted bondage, she was going to be bound beyond her wildest dreams.

You see, she didn’t have any idea about my past, just as I didn’t know her past. Yeah, on the surface I was an 18-year-old kid, fresh out of high school kid. My childhood and teen years were far different that of most kids. My father had a friend he met in Japan. Over time, his friend Niko became very rich, trading with China and other countries around the world. I should add, so did my father. Niko loved the US, and with my father’s help; he bought a summerhouse near ours. I say near because it was about a mile through the woods, but six miles by car.

Niko and his girlfriend Mi fascinated me when they came to visit. She was twenty when I first met her. They said I could visit any time I wanted, and I loved hiking through the woods to visit them. To a ten-year-old kid, it was a big adventure. They never had kids, so Niko became my uncle; Mi was my big sister. One day, when I was eleven, I hiked over to see what they were doing. Most of the time I found one or both of them working in their beautiful gardens. They had just returned from Japan and I hadn’t seen them in three months.

What I found changed my life forever. Mi was hanging by her ankles from a tree branch. The only thing she was wearing was rope. Niko was walking around her, flicking her with some sort of whip. I tried to hide, but Niko called me and said it was okay. I screwed up my courage and walked into the clearing. It wasn’t the first time I had a hard-on, but it was the first time I really wanted to put it in something. It would be a few years before I had a real understanding of sex.

“It’s ok, Dan,” Niko had very little accent. He’d gone to Yale. Mi was born in the US, but her family was a mix of French, Vietnamese, and a bit of Native American. One side benefit was they taught me to speak their languages. So they wouldn’t lose their language skills they alternated each week. I had to learn to speak what they were speaking or I wouldn’t talk to me.

“Come and talk to her,” Niko motioned me over. Mi wasn’t gagged or blindfolded, just very well tied.

"It’s ok Dan, I like this, Niko and I do this all the time. Would you like to learn how?”

That was how it started. From that day on every time I was over there Niko showed me how to tie Mi up. Looking back, I know that the cops and my parents would have had a fit if they ever found out what we were doing. I’m sure Niko and Mi would have ended up in jail. As the years rolled along, I got better and better at it. In fact, we were still doing it when they went to Japan last fall.

Now it looked like I had someone new to practice on. All the better, she wanted sex. I could never have sex with Mi. It was late, but I didn’t want to disappoint her, so I took the rope and had her turn her back to me. Quickly she crossed her wrists. I pushed them apart.

“Just stand still, I need to sort out the rope.”

The old rope needed replacing so I didn’t mind cutting 30 feet or so off, it would hold her. I found the middle and formed a loop. I ran the loose ends through the loop. I pulled the loop up her arms until it was above her elbows. I didn’t try to pull them together, that wasn’t my plan. When I had the rope where I wanted it, a couple of half hitches around the rope between her elbows kept it in place. I brought her right wrist up on the inside of the rope so it was between her back and the rope. Her hand naturally grasped her left elbow. Beginning in the center I took one of the loose ends and wrapped the rope around her arm securing it to the cross rope until I reached her elbow. I did the same with her left arm, except it was on the outside. To finish the tie I started at her elbows and wrapped both arms together. I tied them off in the center of her back. I still had some left over so I wrapped the ends around her chest under her breasts. After twisting them together I ran them up between her breasts back around her chest, over her arms and tied them together between her breasts. When I was finished, I looked into her eyes. It was clear she was one happy woman.

“Cool?” I asked her.

“Wicked cool, you sure know what you are doing, I never considered you could do this. Thank you.”

As I watched her, I had a wicked idea. I went in the shop and found a stray length of bailing twine. If you have ever seen bailing twine you know it is rough and the ends of the of strands stick out forming sharp points. Perfect. The ends were still tied together - that’s the way I’d slid it off the hay bale. I slid one end between the left side breast ropes. Then I passed the other end through the first and took the slack out, pulling the ropes together. I twisted the twine together until I reached her left nipple. It was already hard so it didn’t take much to trap it in the twist. I kept going and did the same to the right and tied it off on her right side. She was wiggling around her eyes closed.

It just needed something more, one more thing to put her over the top. I knew what it was. I looked around in the workshop and found a large ring, at least six inches across, and made out of half-inch rod. I cut an eight-foot section off the rope and tied it to the ring. The other end I dropped on the ground. I cut two more sections. I found the middle of one section and tied an overhand knot in it before I tied it around her waist. She had a puzzled expression on her face, she didn’t have any idea of what I was up to. I picked up the end from the ground, ran it between her legs, through the loop in the rope around her waist, and tied it off to the bailing twine. She had no idea there was a three-pound ring on the other end! The last length of rope I tied around her neck as a leash.

“I’m hungry, let’s go.” I started walking and didn’t look back until I felt the rope tighten. She wasn’t following me. I turned around. “What’s a matter? You aren’t following me.”

“I’m tied to something! How can I follow you tied to the barn?”

“You aren’t tied to the barn. Start moving or you’ll spend the night in the barn without any supper.”

Sharon took a step and the ring slid on the ground. She started to turn her head.

“Eyes forward. It doesn’t matter what’s behind you. Just keep walking.” I stepped in front of her. “This is about trust, isn’t it?”

She hesitated for a split second, her eyes shining, then said; “Yes Master, I should have kept walking or trying to walk even if you tied me to the barn.” Her eyes searched me face, she must have found what she needed. “I’m sorry Dan, I trust you, you can do anything you want to me, including sex, and I will never question you again.”

“You have every right to question me if you know there is no way in hell you can survive what I ask of you. I will push your limits and you will think you can’t do something, but I expect you to try your best. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir, I understand.”

“Knock of the ‘Sir and Master shit, we ain’t there yet. Just call me Dan. Got it?”

“Yes, Dan.”

By the time we were half way to the house she was shaking. A few more steps, and she sank to her knees moaning. I watched as she had a major orgasm. I wanted supper, but I didn’t hurry her, it was too much fun watching her.

In a few minutes, she managed to stand and start walking. I stopped her, untied the rope between her legs and the ring. I quickly wrapped it up before laying it on the porch.

She smiled, “Thank you.”

In the kitchen, I pulled out a chair, insuring it was where I could watch her while I cooked hot dogs and baked beans. Not my all-time favorite supper, but it was quick. When the food was ready, I put everything on one plate, poured a glass of milk and sat down next to her. We didn’t say a word as I fed her and gave her sips of milk. I dumped the plate in the sink, turned off the lights and led her to bed.

I could say we spent hours having sex, but the truth was I spread her legs, tied them off to the corners of the bed, and with little foreplay, since she was still well lubed from her orgasm, I entered her. It took only a few strokes for us to come together. After cuddling for a few minutes, I untied her completely. She wanted to stay tied up until I pointed out that she had to go to work in the morning.

“I forgot about the rope marks. That was most intense thing I’ve ever done. I hope it was good for you,” she said.

“Thank you, it was great. I’m glad you wanted to go swimming. I can’t wait to think up a new ways to tie you so we can make love again.”

I was up at 4:30. To my surprise, Sharon got up without bitching. As soon as we finished milking, I started looking through the workshop while Sharon washed the milking machines. It didn’t take me long to find what I needed. Armed with a hole punch, a hand full of blind bolts, half a dozen locks, several feet of old harness leather straps and a box of rings I went in search of Sharon. I found her drying her hands, just finishing the machines.

“I’ve got some things for you”

She turned towards me, her eyes went wide, she gave me a big smile. It took me almost an hour to fit her wrists, biceps, and ankles with cuffs made from the straps. I also made a collar from a wider strap. I locked her wrists to her biceps in a classic box tie. A 14-inch dog collar chain served to connect her ankles. One of many dog leashes hanging on the wall worked as a girl leash.

I barely finished when I heard a truck coming up the driveway. A quick look out the door confirmed my suspicion that it was the milk truck.

Sharon had heard the truck too. “Should I hide?”

“Of course not, I will tell you when I don’t want you seen.”

“Okay.” She seemed just a bit nervous.

“You okay?” I asked. Her answer wouldn’t change anything, I was just wondering.

“I’m great. As long as this is okay with you, it’s okay with me.”

The truck turned around and backed up to the side of the milk room. I opened the door and hooked it back.

“Sharon, step outside, we need a little room in here.” She did.

I opened the hatch in the wall so the driver could pass the hose in. I stepped back and looked out the door. The passenger got out. She was nude, in chains; her hands chained together by a six-inch chain, her ankles chained 16 inches apart.

I raised my hand and gave a short wave, “Hi Morgan, it’s good to see you, it’s been a while.”

“I figured I’d take a ride over and see you. It has been a while.”

The driver came around the back of the truck. She wasn’t in any form of bondage, she was dressed in cut off blue jeans, barefoot and a cut off tee shirt that wasn’t up to task of concealing her nipples. When she reached up to pull the hose from its holder, her nipples were fully exposed. I heard Sharon gasp. I wonder if she had given me the same show the day before.

“Hi Penny,” I said to the driver.

“Hi Dan, who’s the new girl?”

“Sharon, this is Penney. She works for Intervale Farm. And this is Morgan, she and her husband Steve own Overlook Vineyards and Winery. Morgan, Penny, this is Sharon, a friend. Sharon, they buy all our milk to make cheese. That’s why all our cows are Jerseys.”

Morgan and Penny said “Hi” in unison.

Morgan walked over and stuck out her hand, then realized that Sharon wasn’t just holding her hands behind her back. Morgan twirled her finger, indicating she should turn around. Sharon glanced at me I nodded okay. Morgan saw Sharon’s bound hands she let out a low whistle.

“It’s good to meet you. it’s time Dan found someone to share his interests with. I love the way he has you bound. I like my hands bound behind me, with the short chain it’s hard to do a box tie when you can’t reach your elbows.”

“Yes ma’am, I like this tie, it makes me,” she paused, “it makes me feel secure.” They both giggled.

Morgan said, “You don’t have use ma’am with me, Sharon.” She held up her chained wrists, I’m just a slave girl,” she looked at me, “who doesn’t own a thing, including her own body.”

It was a dig, but I let it slide. When I first met Morgan, she made it clear that Steve owned everything, including her. She was very busy and rarely visited, and despite the fact she was almost old enough to be my mother it didn’t keep me from teasing her. She was after all a real slave girl even if she lived where slavery was illegal.

I helped Penny hook up the hose in the milk room. It took half an hour to pump out our tank and clean up. I noticed Morgan and Sharon talking, getting to know each other. Sharon needed friends who understood her. When I left, Morgan, Penny, and other people they knew could help her understand her needs.

As soon as Penny and I were finished Morgan turned to me; “Please, we need to talk.”

“Sure let’s go in the house.”

Penny stripped off her clothes and dropped them on the front seat of the truck. She left the truck running so the tank cooler kept working. I put on the coffee. Penny went in the pantry and pulled out two pillows. She placed them in front of us for Morgan and Sharon to kneel on.

I sat down, “What’s on your mind, Morgan.”

“We’ve been talking about your cows. Lisa or Liam would have come over, but they are busy with a farmer's market today. We don’t want the cows sold. They have the highest butterfat in the county. Steve and I have never taken care of cows. Liam and Penny have, maybe one of them,” she looked at Penny who nodded. “Can work the farm while you are gone if it’s okay with your family.”

“I didn’t want to see them sold either. I’ll talk to my folks and my grandparents. I’m sure we can work something out.”

Penny got up and filled our cups. She helped Sharon drink hers. The look on Sharon’s face was priceless. Meeting these women blew her away. I bet she thought she was the only woman in the state who was into bondage.

We chatted about the farm and the winery for another hour before I broke up the meeting. Sharon had to go to work.

As soon as they were gone Sharon asked, “What was that all about? Does Morgan really go around nude and bondage? Doesn’t her husband get upset?”

I chuckled. “What do you think? She didn’t undress and lock those chains on just to come over here. As far as I know, she has worn chains for the last five years I’ve known her. I think they changed them out a year or two ago. The ones she’s wearing now are made of some sort of high tech material that is tougher than steel, but lightweight. Doc worried the old stainless steel ones were damaging her bones. She lives nude, even in the winter. She has a cape if it’s below zero, and boots. Steve enjoys her just the way she is, just as I enjoy you.” She looked up at me and smiled, “He’s a cool guy. They have a barbeque every Monday night for friends and employees, maybe we can take a run over there next Monday. We have a standing invitation because we supply their milk."

“Was that a real brand on her leg?”

“Yes, Steve branded her the day they were married.”

“Cool, you going to do that to me someday?”

“Don’t know.” I told her. It was something to think about - I had a lot of thinking to do. “I’m not sure what’s up with Penny. She didn’t say much, and normally she’s full of news. It could be Zoe has a problem. Zoe lives like Morgan - nude and bound full time. Penny worked for Zoe’s husband and helped Zoe. Now she’s driving the milk truck. I’ll see what she has to say the next time I see her.”

I looked at the clock. “You need to get ready for work.”

I unbound her and she took a shower. We stopped by her house so she could put on a clean dress before I dropped her off.

I did a bunch of chores around the barn and checked the hay fields; they would be ready in a few days.

It was after lunch, about 12:30, when Sharon called because she’d lost her job at the market. That morning the boss’s wife ran off after cleaning out their bank account while he was at work. I hope they catch her and she gets jail time.

I picked Sharon up and I told her I’d talk to my family about her working the farm this summer. That cheered her, I got a kiss on the cheek. We had some time so I took her back to the swimming hole. I’d grabbed the straps before I picked her up. As soon as I stopped the truck, she took off her dress. She helped me put her cuffs on. I locked her wrists behind her as I had before and chained her ankles. When I finished she sighed.

“I wanted to go swimming, but now I can’t.”

“Your right,” I unlocked the chain between her ankles and tossed it in the front of the truck. I used one of the locks to lock her ankles together. Looking up at her, I said “That’s better, the chain would have flapped around and hurt your feet.”

She looked near tears. I picked her up and put her over shoulder. I waded into the pool until it was up to my knees, slid her off my shoulder and stood her up.

“Here’s the deal. Don’t panic and remember to kick. I’ve watched Morgan and all the other women that hang out with them swim in their pool. You should be able to do the same.”

I gave her a push and she fell backward into the water. I followed her in, in case she needed help. But she quickly turned herself over and managed to get her feet under her. She stood up.

“Bastard! Why didn’t you tell me you were going to do that,” she swore as she shook some of the water out of her hair. I caught a hint of a smile.

“Now, now, how long do you think it will take you to hop home, not to mention the gates?”

She pushed off into the water. I watched as she circled the pool. She stopped in front of me and pulled her legs under her so she was on her knees. “Didn’t think I could do this did you?”

“Remember what I said about pushing you?”

“Yep,” she smirked, “what about that thing between your legs? I think it needs pushing and pulling.”

I was at half-mast; I didn’t hesitate stepping up to her. She took me in her mouth and got to work. I’d had a few blowjobs; clearly, she didn’t have any experience, but she gave it her all. In a few minutes I came. To my surprise, she swallowed all of it.

“Thank you Master.” She looked up at me, “you may not like me calling you Master. Look at me, bound as I am, I can’t even crawl up on the beach. I consider someone who has that much power over me is my master. Please let me call you that when we are alone.”

“Sharon, you may call me that, but I don’t think you really know what it means yet.”

“Then show me. Master me, do whatever you want to me, make me understand.”

“What if I whip you?”

“I want to prove I can take anything you can think up.”

“Ok, we don’t have much time.”

I waded in the water, picked her up and carried her up to the truck. I set her down for a minute so I could open the tailgate. I laid her in the bed then pulled her ankles up and locked them to her wrists, putting a bow in her back. She was silent as I closed the tailgate.

Pulling out my keys, I opened the gate in front of the truck, then drove through and closed the gate. Driving on, I stopped the truck at an intersection where a hiking trail crossed the road. I went to the back and unlocked the hog tie. I pulled her out of the truck, took out my knife, and cut her dress into strips. In the middle of one strip, I tied a large knot then tossed it over her shoulder.

“Open your mouth.” I stuffed a strip in her mouth. I knew she could hold another, so I stuffed another one in. Looking into her eyes, I detected a faint smile. I took the strip with the knot, stuffed that in her mouth and tied it around her head insuring she couldn’t spit out the gag. The rest of the dress I folded over her head, turning it into a hood I secured it by tying a strip around her neck. A short length of bailing twine tie between her toes gave her about 10 inches of slack. I freed her ankles from each other, but left the chain locked to the cuffs.

I gave her leash a tug. Carefully she took a tentative step exploring how much slack she had. It took a while, but we made it to my great-grandfather’s cabin. He built it on the edge of a beautiful, clear lake. It was large for a camp cabin, about 30 by 40 with a great room, kitchen, and one bedroom down stairs, and a sleeping loft over the kitchen. A screened in porch across the front gave a great view of the lake. I unlocked the door, carried her into the great room, and set her down. She didn’t move while I walked around and checked the cabin.

I took her hood off. She looked around then up at the cathedral ceiling. Beams, we call them tie beams, run across the great room tying the cabin walls together. From the kitchen wall to the south wall the space above the room was open.

“You okay?” I asked her. Sharon nodded yes. “I don’t have much time before milking so this is going to be sharp and painful. Understand?” She nodded yes again. I loved her and didn’t want to do her real harm, but she’d laid down a challenge. If I failed to answer, I might lose her. The trick was to make her understand what real pain was in a short time.

I flipped a length of rope over the beam and let it hang. I helped Sharon lay on her stomach. Lifting her feet, I tied the hanging rope to the chain connecting her ankle cuffs. I left her toes tied. The other end I tied off to a hook bolted to a nearby post. Only her breasts and head were on the dirty floor.

I went to the old dresser that we used as a catch all - anything that didn’t have another place ended up in the dresser. I pulled out two red candles and a pack of matches. A search of the kitchen provided a jar of Vaseline. I pushed the end of one candle in the Vaseline. I took a good size dollop with my middle finger and spread it around inside and outside her butt hole. To my surprise the candle slid in easily, she relaxed her sphincter. I kept pushing until I had about three inches sticking out. I lit the candle. She wiggled around a bit, but she had no idea what was going to happen as the candle began to drip wax.

While I was in the kitchen, I found a thin rubber hose we used for gas lines on the tractor. It was about a quarter inch in diameter and fairly stiff. I lit the second candle and started dripping wax on the sole of her right foot. At the same time, I started flogging her left foot. I knew she went barefoot most of the time so I laid it on hard enough to leave a faint red line. At each stroke, she jumped as much as she could. The hot wax didn’t seem to have much impact.

Sharon began to roll around trying to make it harder for me to hit her. Grabbing another rope, I ran it over a beam about ten feet in front of her. I lashed one end around her arms, between her elbows, and started pulling. When only her nipples and forehead were touching floor I stopped. Getting down on my knees, I grabbed her hair and turned her head towards me so I could see her eyes.

“Is this what you wanted?” It was hard for her, but she managed to nod her head yes. “Ok we’ll continue until I’m ready to stop. Understand?” Another nod yes.

Of course, I was running out of time and I would soon have to stop anyway. I went back to what I was doing. She suddenly stiffened, then relaxed. The candle up her butt started dripping wax into her slit. I had her right foot covered with wax so I swapped sides and waxed her left foot while I flogged the wax off her right foot. I noticed a drop of wax running down her slit until it hit her clit. She screamed through the gag as she had a massive organism. I stopped and let her down, pulled out the candle and untied her. I left her arms tied and her ankles hobbled.

I helped her sit on the bench while I took the gag off. Stepping back, I watched her waiting for her to say something.

She worked her jaws for a few minutes, “Is it okay if I talk?” She looked down at the floor.

“Of course, otherwise I would have left you gagged.”

Sharon gathered her thoughts, then looked up at me with a smile. “Thank you. That was intense, but not as bad as I expected, except when the wax hit my clit, that sent me over the edge.” She swallowed, locked her eyes on mine, “I love you Master, I can’t wait until next time.”

I pulled her to her feet and kissed her. “I love you too.”

I clipped her leash to her collar and led her out of the cottage. I could tell her feet were a bit tender. Most girls I knew wouldn’t have been able to walk.

* * *

The next month flew by. Our parents were too busy to notice we were living together. Sharon never got dressed. I went into town and bought the things we needed. Penny stopped by two weeks before I left to tell us she was going to run the farm after I was gone. She and Zoe had been having problems. Zoe wanted more and more bondage, leaving Penny to do all the work.

Sharon asked me if she could have something special to remind her of me. I expected a tat, a ring maybe, but wasn’t prepared for her request. She wanted her clit hood pierced twice. One, against her body would be a ring that would fit snugly over her clit. In front of that would be a vertical bar bell that rested on top of her clit. I didn’t have a problem with either one. She was over eighteen, so why not?

Penny knew a doctor who did piercing's for Morgan and the rest of the clan. She had done Penny’s nipples. We set up an appointment and I took her over. The shop was in the basement of Morgan’s old bank. The old building had several shops in the basement. On the first floor there was a restaurant and a tasting room. The second floor was also a restaurant. There wasn’t a sign or anything to indicate it was a doctor’s office. It served all the people in village and those who worked in the area. I led Sharon in on her leash. She was nude, her hands locked wrist to elbow behind her back. If she was nervous or embarrassed, she didn’t give any indication. I had started taking her places nude and bound to push her limits. As I had come to expect, she didn’t seem to have any limits.

Two barefoot women sitting in the waiting room gave us the once over and went back to talking about a car accident. Anne the receptionist was sitting behind her desk. I’d met her at one of Morgan’s barbecues.

Anne looked up and said “Hi Dan, it should be a few minutes before Dr. Nelson is ready.”

She stood up, “I’ll show you what we have in stock.” I enjoyed the view of her bare legs under a short skirt and her dirty soles.

We walked down a short hallway to a door that opened into a room lined on three sides with showcases. Against the fourth wall was an autoclave to sterilize the jewelry. Above the jewelry cases hung photos of women wearing pierced jewelry. Anne led us over to a case with barbells and rings. Sharon stood transfixed for a moment, stunned at the variety. Finally, she picked out a bar with balls on the ends that had points. The points were not sharp enough to puncture the skin, but you would know they were there. This was going to be interesting.

She wanted the bar installed so the points would push against her clit all the time. She picked out a ring crafted from several twisted gold wire strands. I now understood what she was planning. The ring would pierce the hood and hang down circling the clit. The bar would push down on the clit, but the clit couldn’t move out of the way because of the ring. Clever! I wonder how much this was going to cost me.

Anne led us to a gynecological chair at the other end of the room. When Sharon’s leash pulled tight, I realized she wasn’t following me. She was studying a photo of two pairs of tanned bare feet with a chain running up the arch. I realize that I had never introduced her to Misty and Tracy, the owners of the feet and chains. We hadn’t gone to a barbecue yet. The chain ran from between the big toe and the next one, up the arch of the foot to a chain around the ankle under the anklebones. Their Master, Liam, had Tracy’s feet done first. Misty, taken with the look, begged Liam to have her feet done too.

Sharon found her voice; “Are those very small sandals? I can’t see the soles.”

“No they’re piercings,” I said.

“But, how?”

“Rings through the skin hold the chains on the feet.”

Sharon sank to her knees, leaned forward until her head rested on the floor.

“Please Master; this slave begs to have her feet chained. I will never ask for anything again.”

I looked up Anne, she shrugged her shoulders, “I think we have time and I’ve got the chains.”

“You heard the lady, let’s do it.” I replied. I gave the leash a tug. “Get up. I’ll be happy to get this done for you. I love you.”

She stood up, tears in her eyes. I unbound her so she could sit in the chair while Anne measured her for everything. Almost two hours later she was done. She walked out of the office without a problem; except she wasn’t looking where she was going, she stared down at her feet the whole time. I knew when the anesthesia wore off it would be a different story. In the end, it never seemed to bother her.

“Are you hungry? it’s time for lunch.”

“Yes, Sir, I’ll make something when we get home.”

“Well, I feel like eating out.” I watched her eyes go wide. Nude, bound and I was telling her we were going out for lunch!

I led her out the door and turned left around the base of a fire escape to another door without a sign. I held the door for her. We found ourselves in a lobby. A well-built guy dressed in jeans and a sports shirt smiled when he saw me.

“Afternoon Dan, it’s good to see you.” He looked around me. “This must be Sharon, Morgan told me you might stop by.”

“Jack, this is Sharon, Sharon this is Jack.”

“It’s a pleasure Sir,” she said.

“Same here, Sharon.”

He pushed a button on the desk. The elevator door slid open and we stepped in. The panel only had one button - an emergency stop.

“How does he know which floor we want to go to?” Sharon asked.

“It goes to several floors,” I pointed to keyhole on the right of the panel, “but you have to have a key to get to those floors. We’re going up two floors, he knows that, it’s part of their security."

For the first time since I met Sharon, she was speechless. When the elevator door opened, a young woman met us. A narrow cloth panel hung from a belt around her waist. It was so thin it didn’t hide a thing. He tats and piercings were amazing. She had a ring through her septum. Two chains ran from it to her ears. Her nipples had rings. A chain ran between her nipples, in the middle was brass bell. From her clit hood hug a chain with a bell on the end. Around her ankles, she wore chains with bells. A dragon tattoo covered the front of her body. The dragon’s red tongue ran down from her belly button to the top of her crack where it forked to outline her labia. It looked like the dragons tongue was pierced and had a gold bell hanging from it. On her back was a black horse.

“Good afternoon Sir.”

“Hi Bells,” I didn’t know her real name and everyone I know called her Bells.

“Right this way.” She glanced down as she turned. She stopped and looked up at me. “Pardon me, Sir. Are those the same as Misty’s?”

“Yep, we just had them down.”

“If I ever get some extra money I want the same thing.”

“I’ll make you a deal.” Her brow furrowed, “If you can find chains like these with tiny bells on them and/or on the chain that goes around the ankle I’ll pay the whole cost. You’re the best, and this is the least I can do for you. You need to be quick though, I’m leaving to the Navy shortly."

“This slave girl thanks you.” She was crying.

I enjoyed the view of her swaying ass and her dirty soles as she lead us to our table. Life was sweet, long legs, bare feet, dirty soles and nice asses, what more could I ask for?

Sharon found her voice, “What is this place?”

“It’s called The Bankers Pub. During the day, it serves as a restaurant like any other, except you have to be a member to get it. Remember I told you about the barbecue Steve and Morgan hold every Monday night? Well, the same holds true here. I’m a member because I supply Intervale Farm with milk. It’s one of the perks of working with them. Of course, I can’t drink yet, but I can eat here and I can bring guests. At night it’s a bit more upscale.”

“Cool. The place looks like it could be a Scottish pub. I ate at a few when I was over there.”

“That’s the idea. Morgan and some of her friends sing here.”

I was a bit surprised she ordered the same thing I did - steak and kidney pie with chips. Chips, by the way are French Fries.

Out of the blue, she asked, “Should I refer to myself as a slave girl the way Bells does?”

“Not unless you feel that’s what you are. You need to understand something. You’ve just started on a journey. Don’t rush it. For Bells, Misty, Morgan, Tracy, and the rest this is their lifestyle. It isn’t a game or play. None of them are really slaves in the full meaning of the word. As you know, slavery is illegal in the US. I know I don’t want a slave. I want a sub, and there’s a big difference. I don’t have the time or interest in micro-managing your life. All the women I mentioned are submissive who revel in the bondage, sex, and giving up control to their lovers. That’s why I asked you not to call me master. You are going to college in a few weeks. Don’t advertise what you are until you really know who you are dealing with and trust them. When I come back if you want to continue what we’ve started, we will see if it will work. I hope it does."

After a moment she said, “I never thought of it that way. I love you and I will wait for you.”

I squeezed her hand.

Back at the farm after lunch, and before milking, I put plastic bags on Sharon’s feet and gave her a pair of large rubber boots to protect her piercings. She had to walk straddle legged to avoid rubbing the hood piercings.

Of course, we couldn’t have intercourse. Instead, we worked on her blowjob technique.

A few days later I left for boot camp.

Part 2

Sharon wrote me about once a week after I left. I answered every letter. She wrote the piercings healed up completely with no complications. She told me the ring and the bar kept her aroused all the time or as she put it, “I’m on simmer full time.” After she went to school, the letters petered out until shortly before Christmas she stopped writing.

The Navy was the Navy and about what I expected. After boot camp, I went to school to become a Gunners Mate, or as it's called in civilian life, a gunsmith. From school I went to Vietnam to work in an armory that repaired weapons on PBRs or Patrol Boat Riverine. When the boat crews were shorthanded, I went on runs with them.

I was there a few months when a Senior Chief asked me if I wanted to join a special operations unit. The only catch was I had to add two years on my enlistment. I said yes without knowing what I was getting into.

A year later after going thought hell in school I was head back to ‘Nam. While I in school I made a friend. His name's Jimmy, he came from Boston and is half-Japanese. During school, they noticed we were good shots. We went to sniper school together and I was a shade better shot than he was. He became my spotter. The night before we shipped out we were hanging out in the barracks packing our gear. Jimmy had a Penthouse magazine he’d finished reading so he gave it to me. I noticed a page corner turned over. Of course, I turned to that page. I found a story by a guy who liked to tie his girlfriend up. I chuckled, Jimmy turned and looked at me.

“What?” he asked.

“I was reading the story about the guy who ties his girlfriend up. You ever do that to your girl?”

“Yeah, ever-chance I get, she loves it. You?”

“I left my girl in chains. I tie her up too, but chains are more secure. I suspect by this time she’s married and has kids running around. I haven’t heard from her in well over a year.”

He nodded. “Well, if we have some leave time, I’ve got an uncle in Okinawa who not only ties girls up, but he makes his living photographing them. I’ll take you to meet him.”

We made one trip. We had a great time and I learned a lot about tying girls up. I missed my Sharon.

A week later, we were back in ‘Nam. Six months later we were coming back from a mission on a PBR, they provided our taxi service. A dozen junks ambushed us. We had three PBRs. It was a hell of firefight. We sank five junks and damaged three more before they broke off. We lost one boat and the other two had heavy damage.

I made it through most of the fight before someone got lucky and put a AK 47 round through the left side of my chest. I was lucky it didn’t kill me outright. One of our guys was a medic - we all knew first aid, but each team had a medic. He patched me up enough so I made it back to base.

By the middle of May, I was back in the states. While I was in Norfolk, I bought a new Chevy Camaro convertible with all the goodies. I was fully functional, but I couldn’t dive and couldn’t run enough to meet qualifications. In short, I no longer met their standards. It would be a long time or perhaps never before I would be close to my old self. In the middle of June, they gave me an honorable medical discharge and pension. I headed home with some heavy duty metals on my chest. For some reason they thought I was a hero for doing my job. I didn’t think so; I’d been shot and couldn’t do my job anymore.

When the doctors set me free in Norfolk, I took a swing through Pennsylvania instead of going through New Jersey. Somewhere around New Hope, I ran out of energy. I was beginning to realize how much the wound had taken out of me. After physical therapy, I figured I was doing okay, now I knew better. I found a place to crash for the night. I slept fairly well. I was up and gone by 0500.

I pulled to a stop in front of my grandparent's farmhouse just after noon. It looked like no one was around. Softly I walked across the porch. The back door was locked. I wondered if they had changed the locks - guess not, my key still worked. The house hadn’t changed. The only odd thing was that it was musty, as if no one lived there. After thinking about it, I figured that even if Penny was still running the farm she might not live there. With Sharon gone there wasn’t anyone else who should be living here.

After the house I to explored the outbuildings. The cows were in their pasture laying down chewing their cuds. They looked healthy and well cared for. The barn was dirtier than I like it, but not too bad. One thing caught my eye. Next to the phone was a key ring I’d never seen before, with a dozen keys and an Allen wrench. The tractor key ring was next to it and had a new key on it. They must have bought a new tractor. Interesting; I wondered where they got the money.

From the milking barn I worked my around. First was the hay barn. It hadn’t changed and it was half-full of hay. We should start haying in the next few weeks. The woodshed was empty and had been for a long time. That made it clear no one was living here. The furnace burned both wood and oil.

In the machine shed there was a beautiful new four-wheel drive Kubota tractor with a bucket and a cab. I couldn’t wait to drive it.

Last was the horse barn. Gramps had horses for a while to work the fields, but gave them up for tractors that were much easier to deal with. Gram had saddle horses when she was younger. The first thing that caught my attention was the door had a new padlock. Odd, in all the years I’d been on the farm this was only time it had been locked. I walked back to the milk barn and grabbed the key ring. When I unlocked the door it swung open easily, someone had oiled the hinges.

I flipped on the lights. I thought I heard a noise to my right where there were two box stalls for Gram's saddle horses. It was a very soft noise, like a small animal. I had to see what it was.

To my astonishment, it was a woman. The sun shone through the window at the back of the stall on her sweaty skin. Whoever she was, she was not having a good day. None of the women I knew who were into bondage would have liked to be strung up like this for as long as she must have endured. It was after noon, I was willing to bet she had been here for at least four hours, if not more.

She was in a strappado with her arms almost vertical. Her hands were in bags. Her big toes were secured to a thick block of wood with leather straps. The straps ran from the outside of the block over her big toes then screwed on to the wood. It had to be extremely painful. Her ankles were locked together with a bar that held them rigid. A chain welded to the cross bar was secured to the back of the block. Her heels rested on two small wooden balls, if she relaxed the balls dug into her heels. She couldn’t shift her feet in any direction. The way her big toes were secured the outside of her foot hung off the block. In other words all her weight was supported by either her arms that must be near dislocation or her heels and the balls of her feet - twisting her feet over the side of the block. A catheter ran through a hole in a heavy leather strap between her legs. The strap locked to chain that dug into her belly just above her hips. The end of a catheter hung down to the cross bar holding her ankles. The piss ran across the bar, then down her feet. I could see sores on her ankles and feet.

That wasn’t all, her nipples were pierced twice, a horizontal ring against her breast and a vertical ball bar just in front of the ring. Eight ounce fishing weights hung from each nipple. The fishing line holding was long enough so if she moved they bounced against her big toes or the tops of her feet.

A leather hood covered her head. It had openings for each nostril, but none for her eyes, ears, or mouth. A nasal cannula protruded from her left nostril. A longer plastic tube hung from her right nostril. This one had a hub on it and a second smaller tube with a value. I’d seen this before, in the Navy hospital, it was a feeding tube. I shuddered to think what I would find under the hood.

I didn’t touch her. She was gently panting, the noise I’d heard from the door. I ran over to the milk barn and called Penny. I was lucky she answered on the second ring. I told her what I’d found and she said she’d be right over. I walked back to my car and pulled out my camera. I photographed the girl from every angle I could think of. By the time I was done, I heard the squeal of tires as a pickup slid to a stop in the dooryard. Penny was a lead foot. I stuck my head out the door and called her. I showed her what I’d found.

“Oh shit, oh shit!” she said, “Who the fuck is it? I hope her arms are ok.”

“I don’t know. I wanted someone here to see this and help me take her down.” The woman hadn’t given any indication she’s heard us.

Penny asked, “It isn’t Sharon, is it?”

“Sharon? How the hell can it be Sharon? The last I heard she was in college.”

“No, she went for one semester and then came back. Her father died suddenly and she didn’t have the money to continue. We worked together for six months before I went back to Zoe. Steve hired a woman name Rose to run the farm."

“Let’s get her down.”

“Just a minute and I’ll help you.” Penny pulled out her two-way radio. “Center dispatch, Medic One do you copy?”

“Affirmative, go ahead.”

“Dispatch I need an ambulance and 30-P1 at the Baily Farm, Baily Farm Road code 3. I’m not sure what I’ve got yet, but it could be bad. Ask Doc to respond.”

“10-5”.

Within seconds, Penny’s pager went off. The dispatcher repeated Penny’s request. I could hear the police chief’s siren of over the radio. Dispatch was in the same building as the police station.

Penny gently took the woman in her arms. I used Penny’s EMT shears to cut the fishing line from her nipple rings. The woman struggled for a second then let herself hang again. I went to the wall and lowered the rope holding her arms. Penny held her while I ran over to the workshop and got the electric drill with a screwdriver bit in it. I started to remove the screws, before I realized it would be better if I released her ankles first. Her feet might fall off the block hurting her ankles even more. Then I released her toes.

Together we lowered her to the floor. Before we could do more, I heard a siren and someone sliding to stop just like Penny. I wondered if everyone around here drove like Richard Petty. Years ago, a trooper clocked her on a dirt road in route to a police officer down shooting at 80 mph. The state trooper didn’t a have chance to figure out who it was.

Shortly Bill Nelson, the local police chief, came through the door. He was a big rawboned man with gray hair. He looked the part of an Old West lawman.

“What happened?”

We filled him in. Penny took the keys and unlocked the hood then started work on her wrists. I went to work on the hood while Bill watched. A few minutes later, I heard the ambulance. Two EMT’s came in the barn with their jump kits. Soon as Penny had the woman’s arms free. I still wasn’t sure if it was Sharon, it could be Rose. If it was Rose then where was Sharon? I began to peel the hood over her head.

“Hold on a minute Dan,” Penny said. “I’m going to start an IV.”

Sharon (?) jumped from the sudden pain in her arm. When I opened the hood, I discovered short, very dirty blond hair. Gently I pulled the hood out and down across her face, insuring I didn’t pull on the tubes in her nose.

It was Sharon. She didn’t open her eyes or anything. She was a mess, dirty with manure caked on from toe to head. It was even in her ears. Penny removed the cannula from her nose and then cut off the value on the end of the feeding tube.

“Sharon?” She stirred. “I’m going to remove the feeding tube.” Gently but firmly she pulled it out.

I sat down and took Sharon in my arms. Gently I stroked her head. I told her everything was going to all right. “Sharon, can you open your eyes.” I asked. Slowly she opened them, blinked a few times then closed them. “Can you talk?”

Sharon slowly shook her head then pulled back her lips. Her mouth was full of metal. I studied the wire and plates for a moment before I realized there was a small hole in the middle of the dental appliance. I took the key ring from Penny. I found the Allen wrench and gently inserted it. Carefully I turned the key. After six turns, she managed to open her mouth, but I still couldn’t pull the gag out. It took a few more turns before I could pull it out. Her jaw hung open, pain washed across her face, as she moved jaw side to side, then up and down.

It took her a few minutes to whisper, “Master I love you. May this slave have some water?”

Someone handed me a water bottle, I held it up to her lips she drank most of it. I can’t describe how happy I was that she knew who I was.

Penny said, “She’s very dehydrated, that catheter drained her out. The IV I started will help replace the fluids she needs. I want that catheter out ASAP.”

Before she could do anything there was a rumble in the yard. I looked at Penny and raised my eyebrow. “Another piece of your handy work?”

“Yeah, I bored it out, balanced, and ported it. It’s putting out around 500 horse power.”

“What is it?”

“A four by four Chevy pickup up like mine, but older. I rebuilt the suspension. The doc likes to go places in a hurry.”

I glanced up at Bill; he just shook his head, a half smile on his face. He knew his wife all too well.

Minutes later Anne and Doctor Nelson strode into the stall. Bill and the Doc exchanged smiles. Penny filled them in.

Doc did a quick examine and didn’t find anything major wrong. Sharon responded well to the simple tests Doc did. Then she removed the catheter.

Sharon let out a big sigh. She whispered, “That feels so much better.”

Doc and Penny had a chat and agreed they didn’t think Sharon needed to go to the hospital. We could treat the sores. Her shoulders hadn’t been dislocated and the nerves were good, but they would be stiff for a few days.

“In that case can I take her inside and give her a bath?” I asked.

“Sure,” they both answered at once.

Carefully I picked her up in my arms. Penny grabbed the IV bag and followed me. If I had to guess, Sharon had lost at least ten pounds since the last time I’d held her. Anne went ahead and started to fill the bathtub. She was naked by the time I got to the bathroom. I handed Sharon to her while I dropped my clothes and stepped into the tub. I held Sharon while Penny washed. By the time we finished Sharon was able to get out of the tub with Penny’s help. The IV bag was empty so Penny pulled out the IV.

Anne greeted us in the bedroom. She had a massage table set up. I helped Sharon lay down. Anne got right to work. She was a pro who helped many subs after a night of fun. That was one reason she work for Doc. It was nice that she was her daughter.

Downstairs Bill and Doc were talking about what had happened. For the record, Penny and I gave our account of what we found. I got my camera and gave him the roll of film. Bill said he would find Rose. We were lucky Bill and Doc are part of the local bondage community. They knew the difference between 'play' between adults and torture. What Rose, and we assumed it was Rose, did to Sharon was way over the line.

Penny, still nude, started a pot of coffee. Doc undressed, her professional role was done for the moment and she reverted to being Bill’s sub. We sat around the table. I filled them in on what I had done in the Navy and why I was out of the Navy after only three years.

Doc looked at my scar. “You must have someone looking out for you. I’ve never heard of any one surviving a wound like that.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.

Anne walked in a few minutes later. She was carrying her clothes; “I put her to bed. She’s going to be sore for a few days. Bring her by the office in the morning and I’ll work her over again.”

“Good, thank you. If Doc has time and Sharon is willing I’d like have her chains put back on her feet.”

“You don’t have to worry Dan,” she said, “she asked about them before she fell asleep.”

“Neat, do you have the old ones?”

“Yes we kept them.”

We talked for another hour before they left. I was on my way out to milk when I heard a car coming up the drive. I stepped back in the house. To my surprise, Sharon was in the kitchen.

She smiled. “I couldn’t sleep, I need you.”

“Someone’s coming.”

She looked up at the clock. “Shit, it must be Rose to do the afternoon milking. What should I do?”

“Do? Nothing. Sit down and relax. I’m going to call Bill. I’m home and as long as I’m around no one is going to do anything to you - except me.” I gave her my best-wicked grin she giggled. I picked up the phone and dialed the police. They told me he was in the area and would be here in a few minutes.

The car stopped in the yard. Rose must have noticed the inside door was open. I watched as she studied the house for a moment and then walked in our direction. Sharon started to shake. I squeezed her hand, she settled down. I held my finger to my lips. I motioned that I was going into the dining room. The perverted side of me wanted to see what Rose was going to do. Bill would be along shortly. Just inside the door, on top of the china cabinet, was Gramp's Colt .45 1911A1 locked and loaded.

Rose didn’t knock before she pulled the screen door opened and stomped into the kitchen. “Who the hell let you lose? Penny? I’m going to hang her up the way you were, but her feet aren’t going be anywhere near the floor.” She paused. “Cat got your tongue?” She stepped forward to reach out and grab Sharon.

Sharon stood up, knocking her chair over. “Fuck you, bitch.” She was going to go after Rose. If she had been healthy, I’m sure she could have taken her, but I didn’t want it to go that far.

I stepped into kitchen, “Stop!” I didn’t yell, but put a lot of force in it, and I got the result I wanted. Both girls froze.

Rose recovered quickly, “Who the fuck are you? Who told you could come in here and let my slut go?” She put her hands on her hips and stared tapping her foot. I almost started laughing; she looked like a cartoon.

“I don’t need your permission to be here. Sharon is not your slut, she’s a far better woman that you ever will be.” I heard the crunch of tires on gravel. I glanced out the window and saw Bill getting out of his cruiser.

Rose noticed where I was looking, she looked out the door. “Did you call the cops?”

“Yep, sure did.”

“Good, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

“Nope, ain’t going to happen.” Bill was about to knock on the screen door. “Come on in Bill.”

Rose looked confused. “Officer, I want you to arrest this jerk.” She pointed at me, “I didn’t give him permission to be here.”

Bill just looked at her for a moment, “I’m the Chief of Police, what’s your name ma’am?”

Caught off guard she stuttered, “R..Rose, ah, Rose Hicks, Officer.”

“Good, you saved me a lot of time trying to find you. Put your hands on the counter and spread your legs.”

“But, but, but, you can’t do this. What grounds, I’m supposed to be here, I work here.”

I said, “No you don’t belong here, you’re fired.”

“Rose Hicks, you are under arrest for the unlawful restraint and imprisonment of Sharon Hill.” He read her her rights, searched her, and handcuffed her. “Thanks Dan,” I'll let you know what’s going on.”

I went out a bit late and did the milking. After a quick shower, I crawled into bed. I thought Sharon was asleep. Before I could pull up the covers she said, “Thank you for saving me.”

“I love you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“Please, may I have my cuff on? I checked it’s still on the bed post.”

I got up and locked the cuff around her ankle.

Two weeks later the shit hit the fan. The county prosecutor told Bill that the Grand Jury didn’t believe the case against Rose. Rose’s lawyer claimed we staged the photos to fake charges against Rose. Why? No one had an answer. I asked what it would take to prove the photos were real. The answer wasn’t good - they wanted to see what happened in real life. I told Sharon.

“They want ... they want to see me strung up in real life?” She paused for a few seconds. “To be honest, it wasn’t that bad if I hadn’t been left for five hours. I guess I am a pain slut. You willing?” Before I had a chance to say anything, she said, “I hope you plan on screwing me before you take me down.”

“Sure, I want to see Rose get what she deserves. If they want to see it in real life, then we’ll give them what they want. Should we charge admission - see the hanging woman?”

Sharon laughed, “one thing I want done different.” She studied my face. “Don’t let me down until they leave and then I want to be hung with my feet off the ground. I want to see what it’s like. I’ve read about it as a form of torture and I want see if I can take it.”

I shook my head, “I guess I don’t need to see how far I can push you.”

I called Bill. He managed to set up an appointment for the following afternoon. He said the jury wanted to finish the case and go home.

At one o’clock the next afternoon two Sheriff’s cruisers, followed by Bill’s cruiser, two civilian cars and a van rolled into the yard. Doc and Anne were with Bill. A few minutes later Penny arrived. Rose was with her lawyer.

The Clerk of Court was riding with one of the Sheriff’s deputies. The jury was herded into a loose group so the Clerk could give them then his instructions. I stood in the doorway of the barn in case they had anything to ask me. I planned not to say anything if possible. Sharon was sitting on chair behind me. When the meeting broke up, I turned to Sharon, “You ready?”

“You bet. This is going to be good.”

I wondered about her definition of good. I had no interest in being in her shoes, if she had been wearing any. She was nude - when I asked her if wanted to get dressed she gave me a perfectly logical answer. “Why bother, I’m going to do this nude.”

She stood up, walked down to the stall and stood with her hands at her sides waiting. The block with the balls, the cuffs for her ankles, and rope were in place. The bags for her hands, gag, hood, and tubes were on a chair.

I heard a few gasps as the jury caught sight of Sharon’s naked form. She just watched them.

I began by slipping the leather bags over her hands. She had to make a fist for them to fit. With the bags in place, I lashed her wrists together behind her back with a length of rope leaving a loop in one end. Then I had her step on a wooden block. When I first agreed to do this, I wondered how Rose had gotten Sharon’s feet in position. I scouted around and found extra sections of the block, and I realized that Rose had put the extra sections next to the block creating a platform for Sharon to stand on while she dealt with her feet. I did the same. With her toes and feet locked in place, her heels resting on the balls, I installed the gag. I started to pull the hood over her head when Doc and Penny stepped in. Doc held up her hand, I removed the hood.

“Sharon,” Doc said softly, Sharon looked up. “I’m going to put the feeding tube in now.” Doc and Penny put on gloves.

She gave a nod. Penny opened the sterile package containing feeding tube. Doc took it and slowly fed the tube into her nose. Some of the jury turned their heads and a few women put their hands to their mouths and one sobbed.

“Sharon, swallow and keep swallowing until I get this in.” Sharon did as asked; I could see her throat working. With the tube in place, Doc used a syringe to blow up the bulb on the end to keep it in place. Sharon looked uncomfortable for a moment, then adjusted.

Doc turned to me. “You can put on the hood. I’ll put the nasal annular in last.”

It took a few minutes and a bit of effort, but I got it on. While I was doing that, Penny wrapped the chain around Sharon's waist, leaving the strap hanging in the back. Penny opened another sterile pack with the urinary catheter. Doc swabbed Sharon with an alcohol swab. Did I mention Sharon didn’t have any pubic hair? It took a bit of work, we should have done this before securing her ankles but she got it in and blew up the bulb. Penny carefully pulled up the strap between Sharon’s legs. She threaded the end of the catheter through the hole and lined it up so the piss would land in the same place Rose had aimed it. Doc put the nasal cannular in.

I hooked the rope hanging from a block in ceiling to the rope between her wrists. Stepping to the wall, I pulled on the rope until I had her at about the same height as Rose had before I tied the rope off. The last thing I did was install the fishing line and weights.

Rose watched with a cold smirk on her lips. I bet she was hot thinking about what could have been.

One of the jury, the same one who had sobbed earlier, started screaming, “Let her down, let her down.” One of the deputies escorted her out of the stall. The rest of the jury followed except for one woman about Sharon’s age. She walked over and examined her from head to toe. She looked around, before whispering, “Would you do that to me?”

I answered, “Perhaps, but it would put the whole case in question."

She glanced around again. “Not if the Grand Jury is finished.” She turned around and walk out of the stall.

Doc and Penny had gone outside with the rest of the crowd. I ran my hand up Sharon’s leg. I gave it a gentle squeeze. I’d told her earlier that would be my signal to her that they would be leaving shortly. I looked out the door in time to see them getting on the bus. Everyone left except Bill, Doc and Penny. They came back inside.

“Do you want help getting her down?” Penny asked.

“No, we’re okay. But would you please take the tubes out.”

Doc smiled, “Don’t leave her up there too long.”

“I don’t plan on leaving her much longer. She asked me to lift her off the block so she is hanging free. What do you think?”

“It will hurt like hell, but she has good shoulders and she should be okay if you don’t leave for more than an hour - preferably less.”

They set to work and in a few minutes removed the tubes. I thanked them and they left.

As soon as they were gone, I unlocked Sharon’s ankles from the block and freed her toes. Penny had removed the belt. I left her for a few minutes while I went to the tack room. I picked up a spreader bar I’d stashed there earlier and took a crop from the wall.

I locked one end of the bar around one ankle. I pulled her higher so her feet were six inches off the floor. She moved around a bit before settling down. I locked the other end of the bar around her other ankle.

I picked up the crop and began smacking her with it. Not hard enough to raise welts, but hard enough to sting. I let her hang for a few minutes while I stuck my head out and made sure no one had come back.

I was so horny I could wait any longer. I pulled off my tee shirt and dropped my shorts. She was at the right height. I stuck my finger in her pussy to be sure she was well lubricated. I rammed my cock into her in one motion. I started pumping, at the same time I squeezed the piercings through her clit hood, sucked her left nipple and twisted her right nipple. After a few pumps, she went off like a rocket. It didn’t take me much longer. Finished, I spread my shorts out on the chair and sat down. It took me a few minutes to recover.

I picked up the crop again, but this time I didn’t go after her ass. I started working on the insides of her legs. I put more effort into it and worked my way up from her knee to just below her crotch on her left leg. I did the same on her right leg. The whole time she was grunting under the hood. She couldn’t form words, but she could grunt. Gently I smacked her in the cunt three times, making sure I got her clit with the last blow. She froze, and I slammed my cock into her again. Her orgasm was beyond description. She vibrated from head to toe before her hips stared working.

After I was finished I held her for a few minutes, then I sat down again to recover. That morning I’d installed another block and rope in the overhead in anticipation I might find a use for it. I got up, lowered the second rope and clipped it to a ring in the center of the spreader bar. I pulled her feet up until her soles were parallel with the floor. This did take some of the load off her shoulders.

I took the crop and smacked her soles. Unlike last time, I really laid into them, leaving welts.

Sharon had been hanging long enough. I let her arms down until her chest was on the floor. Then I let her feet down. I worked the hood off.

I studied her eyes. “Blink twice if you are okay. Blin….”

She didn’t blink once she smiled around the gag and blinked half a dozen times.

“Had enough?” She shook her head no.

“Good,” I smiled.

Instead of pulling her arms up, I hung her from her ankles--good thing I used padded cuffs. However, I didn’t neglect her arms; I secured them to a water pipe near the floor. When I pulled her up, her arms were stretched behind her in a upside down strappado. Of course, I didn’t hang her as high as before. I wanted her mouth at just the right height. This meant taking the gag out, but that could to wait. I didn’t want to scare the cows.

Back in the tack room, I found a buggy whip. I snapped it a couple of times to get the feel of how it worked. This time I ignored her back and legs. Instead, I attacked her stomach and breasts. After the third or fourth time I caught a nipple she had another massive orgasm.

When she recovered a bit I removed the gag. I presented myself to her, she took me in and started sucking. I was surprised that when I came, even with her hanging upside down, she didn’t spill a drop.

I lowered her to the floor and released her feet. I released her wrists from the wall but left them bound. I helped her stand. I could tell her feet really hurt, but she didn’t complain.

“Would it be better if you crawled?”

“Yes sir,” I could barely hear her, her voice was raspy from grunting.

I helped her sit on the floor. I had a bag with her cuffs - the ones I’d used on her long ago. I locked her ankles to her thighs. Then I released her wrists from each other. I locked the bags to her wrists with her cuffs. I added her collar and a lead. We left the barn and headed around back. I’d discovered Penny had had a hot tub installed behind the barn. Sharon managed to crawl up the steps and sort of fell into the tub. I held her while we talked about what had just happened.

Rose stood trial and went to jail. We never heard from or saw her again. A week later the Grand Jury woman, Alice, who was very interested in Sharon’s bondage, showed up one morning. At first I wasn’t sure how to deal with her. On one hand I was afraid she was trying to set us up. On the other, maybe she was for real. I put her to work with Sharon. While they were in the field, I called Bill and explained what was going on. He discovered she was an artist who wasn’t doing well. Beyond that she appeared to be harmless. We put her to work, nude and in bondage.

Monday evening, after Alice arrived I took her and Sharon to Steve and Morgan’s barbecue. Sharon wasn’t too sure, what they would think of her when she showed up nude, in bondage. She was still having trouble understanding that she wasn't the only sub in the state. They loved her. She surprised Tracy and Misty with her identical chains on her feet. They were very interested in her strappado.

Alice loved it. I took her naked wearing a single sleeve with her ankles hobbled 14 inches apart.

Misty kept bugging me about the strappado. She was hot to try it. I talked to Steve. He got a kick out of the idea. He dug around in a drawer next to the grill and handed me a game controller with a joystick that someone had rebuilt. Taped under the original names were new names—Forward, Back, Open, Close, Up, and Lower. He pointed to a beam running across the pool - with a box attached to the beam on our side of the pool.

“Push open,” he said, I did, a door opened on the box. “Use the joystick to go up, down, forward and back. I had the girl set it up so the speeds are variable depending on how far you move the stick. That way you aren’t going to jolt her; that’s important.”

As the electric hoist rolled out of the box I played with it until I got the feel of how it worked.

I called Misty and Liam over. She wasn’t paying attention to him. He took her elbow to get her attention. Without a word, he pointed at the floor. She looked at him, dropped her eyes and sank to her knees.

I motioned to him to follow me. We walked to the end of the pool. I filled him and showed him the box. His face lit up, a big smile crossed his face. “Sounds like fun to me.”

“Cool, after you tie her wrists I’ll lower the cable and you can hook her up.”

He chuckled, “Misty is going flying. This is going to be fun.”

He released her arms from the box tie behind her back and rebound them wrist to wrist behind her back. I rolled the hoist out of its box and lowered the steel cable. Liam slipped the loop he’d left in the end of the rope over the hook.

I tilted the joystick up. The word had gone around and everyone stopped to watch Misty fly. As her arms went up, she bent over until they were vertical. Soon her toes were off the ground. Liam and I stood next to her to make sure she was safe. She wasn’t gagged, but she didn’t say a word. When she was about eight feet off the ground I shifted the joystick. She rolled out over the pool. Liam looked at me. I winked. He nodded and smiled. I moved the stick down and she headed for the water. Laughing she playfully kicked her feet as they hit the water. I shook my head. How the hell could a girl hanging by her hands behind her back, above her head laugh like a girl on a swing? I wondered if she had ever heard of the word pain.

I kept lowering her until the water reached her hips. I handed the controller to Liam. “If you move it slowly and smoothly you aren’t going to hurt her.”

“Got it.”

He sent her towards the ceiling, twenty feet off the floor. Then across the pool where he lowered her so people could touch her. Then up again and back to where she started.

“Steve you got any rope?” Liam opened a box behind the grill. “I need something heavy too.”

Steve pointed to a small decorative urn, “it’s about 20 pounds.”

“That should work.”

We turned it upside down so it wouldn’t fill with water. Liam used a short length of rope to tie it to Misty’s ankles. Up she went. Liam rolled her out to the middle of the pool then lowered her into the water until only her hands were above the water. He left her there for at least a minute before pulling her up so her head was above the water. He did that three times. The fourth time he left her in for three minutes. This time he pulled her all the way out and brought her back to the deck. I held the urn so he could set her down. She was gasping for air, but she was fine.

When she could talk she said, “Fuck man, why’d you stop. Can I go again?” Everybody had a good laugh.

Someone gently bumped me on the arm. I turned around; Sharon was standing next to me.

“Please?” was all she needed to say.

I did the same thing to her, but at the end, I turned her upside down and just dunked her head. That had more impact because the water got up her nose. When we left, there was a line of women waiting for flying lessons. Alice watched in awe. She would get her turn later.

Life is good. I’m sitting on the porch watching Sharon weeding the kitchen garden, naked in chains as always. We still have the cows, or I should say, the descendants of the cows we had when I came back. Kim, Jimmy’s sister, lives with us and pretty much runs the place. This gives us the option of traveling when we want too. Jimmy asked if he could send her to us after her boyfriend nearly beat her to death and Kim needed to get out of Boston. She has no problem with our life style, in fact, that was what got her in trouble with her asshole boyfriend. He wanted her in heels, underwear, and a dress full time. They had an argument and she lost.

She does all the shopping and found a store where the women who run the place are always naked. She and Alice share the old hired-hands apartment off the woodshed as well as share a bed. Kim is more dominate and Alice is always in some form of bondage. Kim, like her brother, can be very creative. She is submissive to me and when she gets to full of herself, I find a creative way to tie her.

Early that fall we got married.

The End

Copyright© 2014 by Yashi. All rights reserved.