A Walk in the Hills

In the darkness of the hood time takes on a different meaning and I have no idea how long I was left. It started to grow colder so I guessed that night had drawn in. My limbs, tightly constrained to the frame of the sawhorse, had grown stiff and there were so many places where the mud had dried that I felt a desperate need to itch. Quite frankly, at that point, I’d have sold my soul for a shower, a long hot shower.

The shed door gave it’s usual creak and the next thing I knew my wrists and arms were being freed. It wasn’t long, though, before they were refastened behind my back and I had neither the strength nor the will to put up any resistance. Indeed, even when the straps around my legs and torso were loosened I just lay there. Whomever it was, I guessed that Karen would send Steve, could do as they wished, I had no fight left in me. A firm grip around my upper arm confirming that it was indeed Steve, pulled me to my feet and, without a word being said I was marched out of the shed. I fought against the numbness, forcing my legs to move, trying to keep up, trying not to be simply dragged along and we had gone maybe twenty yards before I was simply dropped, falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“Ah, fuck cunt, so good of you to join us. I do hope you are fully rested.” Karen said sweetly.  “Steve, honey, could you take the hood and gag off her?”

With the hood removed I  could see where I was. It was after dark and the party were all sitting round a camp fire, the only source of light. Most were lounging on the ground but Karen had taken one of the chairs off the porch and was sat in it. Various plates and bottles scatted around attested to the meal they had eaten and, more importantly, all the beer that had been drunk. Karen, Steve, Mel and Bob didn’t seem to be that bad but Kelly and Randy were noticeably intoxicated. To my surprise Kelly was still dressed in nothing but her tee shirt and still had the strap-on jutting from her groin. She saw me staring.

“Do you like my PRICK, fuck cunt.” Her words were slurred, she really was very drunk. “How about I fuck your ASS with it?”

She tried to stand but didn’t make it, collapsing in a giggling heap across Randy’s lap.

“Oooh, big boy, how’s about I fuck your ass?” She flung her head back in some bazaar parody of a sex kitten. “How’s about you and me go and have some fun together.”

Randy’s eyes were as glazed over as Kelly’s and he was having trouble putting a reply together when Karen cut across.

“If you two want to fuck then I’m not going to stop you but I’d suggest that Kelly’s dildo will be the stiffest prick either of you will see tonight. Now shut it.” Karen slapped them down. “Now, then, fuck cunt, are you hungry?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Yes, what?” Karen snapped back.

“Yes, please, Mistress Karen, fuck cunt is hungry.”

“Well, come over her and ask nicely. No, don’t get up, wriggle across like the worm you are.”

With my wrists fastened behind my back it was hard to wriggle through the dirt and, as I did so, my belly and, in particular, my nipples were being scraped across the ground. They were still sore from Mel’s fingernails and each scrape, each touch was agony. Why then did they stick out so much, why was every rasp sending little arrows of fire straight to my groin?

Once I was close enough Karen pushed her shoe in my face. There was no great secret as to what I was supposed to do, it’s just that in my fantasies any shoe I would be licking wouldn’t be badly in need of cleaning after several miles slogging through the wilderness. In my dreams it had been the well polished leather of my Master’s immaculate footwear, or possibly the patent leather toes of  Mistresses’ high heeled boots, but never the scraped and muddy toe of well worn walking shoes. Tentatively I poked out my tongue and started on the toecap of the left shoe, however, the dust and grit, combined with my dry mouth, left me with no saliva to speak of and the dirt was clogging my mouth.

“A bit dry for you? Maybe you would prefer this.” Karen bent down and took off her shoe and sock. It was immediately evident that this was the first time she had done so today as her foot was pungently sweaty. Almost delicately she sat back, holding her foot out in front of my face. As I reached out with my tongue she pushed forward and I was sucking on her toes. All too aware of how dependent I was on her goodwill I did my best to suppress any nausea and to use my mouth, my lips, my tongue to caress and worship. As I eased my tongue between her toes I could feel her respond; somehow the salty taste of her sweaty feet wasn’t so bad when I knew that what I was doing was appreciated.

“Very good.” Karen purred. “Just do the other one and we’ll see about getting you something to eat and drink.”

Karen slipped off her other shoe and pushed her toes into my mouth. This time any reticence I had had with the other foot was gone. I knew what I had to do, I knew it pleased Mistress Karen and I had a very real desire to do my utmost do so. Firstly, and very simply, I had no illusions as to the power she had over me; my welfare was completely dependent on her whim. However, this was far from the complete story. Foot worship had always been part of my fantasies and now, with a major twist, this was what I was doing for real. I had never, in my wildest dreams, thought that I would be covered in dirt, or that my tormentor would be female, but, now I was doing it, both seemed natural, both seemed right. And it wasn't just Mistress Karen who was pleased; this was a shared experience, the slave feeling pleasure at pleasing her Mistress for, somehow, I just knew that Mistress Karen’s response was not just sensual, but also involved the pleasure of having me at her feet. With the exception of Mel, and Mel would always be an exception, the other's sexuality was coarse, basic and mostly involved simple stimulation of their sexual organs until they achieved orgasm. Mistress Karen, on the other hand, was a connoisseur, someone who understood the finer pleasures which could only come from the more exotic pathways of eroticism.

With a sigh Mistress Karen removed her foot and sat upright.

“Well, well, well, quite the little expert at foot worship. Trust me when I say that you will be doing quite a bit of that in the future. Now, is little fuck cunt hungry?”

“Yes, please Mistress Karen.” I replied. I had, after all, eaten nothing since breakfast and I had thrown up most of that.

“I’m sure we have some spare hot dogs somewhere.”  She looked around behind her and fetched a plate with four hot dogs on it. Taking one between her fingers she held it out and let the frankfurter fall out of the bun onto the ground in front of me. Taken aback at what was expected of me I just stared at it.

“What’s up, fuck cunt? Not enough mustard? Come along now, you don’t want to let good food go to waste. If you don’t finish what you’re given I’ll have to punish you.”

I’d long realised that Mistress Karen’s threats were not to be ignored and bent my head to the ground to pick up the frankfurter. It was stone cold, and the mustard covered bits had picked up dirt which made it gritty but at least it was food and, as I started eating, I realised how ravenous I was. However my dry mouth was making things difficult and swallowing was such a chore that I nearly choked a couple of times. At the second time Mistress Karen took notice.

“Does fuck cunt need a drink?”

“Yes, please, Mistress Karen.”

Again Mistress Karen reached behind her this time returning with one of the picnic coolers and placed it in front of me.

“Well, what are you waiting for? There’s plenty of water in there.” She said. I had been waiting for her to reach something out of the cooler but it seemed that I was expected to drink directly from it. With my wrists still behind me it was a struggle getting to my knees but eventually I managed and peered inside the cooler. In the flickering firelight it was hard to make out exactly what was inside but this one had evidently held the beers as it was now empty except for a few labels that I could just make out floating around in the melted ice at the bottom. Once again, beggars can’t be choosers so I dipped my head in and drank. I know the water was less than pure, I know it tasted of the glue they use to stick the labels on the bottles, I know it had all sorts floating around in it, and, as soon as my face was immersed I added plenty of mud to the mix, but to me, right there, right then, it was the perfect elixir. My hunger had been nothing compared to my thirst. Again and again I ducked my head, at first to wash the half eaten frankfurters from my mouth, but then simply because, filthy as it was, it tasted so good, because, far more than the food, water was my biggest need.

Finally sated I knelt back up, muddy water streaming down my body from my soaking hair. The food and drink were the first bit of kindness I had been shown, the first time my needs had been taken into consideration and I was surprisingly grateful. To be given two cold frankfurters and allowed to drink the dregs from the picnic cooler may not sound much but in my emotionally battered state it was manna from heaven.

“Thank you, Mistress Karen, thank you.” I said softly.

“Come here.” Mistress Karen moved the cooler which stood between us and I shuffled forwards on my knees. “Have we been harsh on fuck cunt? Have we mistreated you?”

I really didn’t know how to answer. The silence round the camp fire was only broken by the occasional crackling of logs from the fire as the group waited on my answer.

“You hurt me, Mistress Karen.” I finally compromised.

“But, fuck cunt, how else could we train you? You know you’re a little pain slut, you know this is what you’ve always wanted, it’s just that you’ve never had a Mistress before. Now you have and I’m going to take you in hand and train you up properly. Now, come closer and kneel properly with your knees apart. If you kneel like that again you will be punished.”

I shuffled further forward and opened my knees as instructed. Mistress Karen reached down with her foot and rubbed it against my pussy. Her toes probed between my labia, opening me up, finding me moist as always. Unbidden I moved my hips, opening me up further, pushing myself against her foot. A little voice at the back of my head was appalled, had I no dignity left that I was shamelessly rutting myself against Mistress Karen’s foot? Was this what she had reduced me to? My groin, however, wasn’t listening, I didn’t want this, I needed it.

“You see, fuck cunt” Mistress Karen continued, “like all subbie pain sluts you’re ruled by your cunt, you’ll do anything, anything at all as long as your cunt gets what it wants. When you become my slave, my property, my plaything you will learn to serve me perfectly and in return you’ll learn the ecstasy that only true servitude can bring. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress Karen.” I replied breathlessly. Her hypnotic voice, combined with her foot rubbing harder and harder was making my juices flow and I was powerless to prevent myself. Mistress Karen was right, I am a pain slut, I am ruled by my cunt, I needed release, I needed it so badly. Maybe if I pushed a little harder, maybe just a little faster…

“That’s enough.” Mistress Karen said pulling her foot away. “You’ve had your food, now it’s your bed time. But, before you go, you’re going to go round the group and thank them for helping me train you today.”

For a moment or two I just slumped, I had been riding the high, feeling the building pleasure within my groin and it had been suddenly snatched away. It took me a minute or two to return, to gather my wits about me. I glanced up at Mistress Karen and caught her eye but her stern expression warned me that she wouldn't indulge me for long. I had had my instruction and I had better get on with it.

I shuffled round on my knees and thanked each one in turn. First was Mel who looked at me as if I was some sort of specimen in a jar. Bob just looked embarrassed and out of place, Steve was distant, and then came Kelly and Randy. Kelly was still sat on Randy’s lap and he had his hand deep in her groin. As with the others I bowed my head and said my thank you but Kelly wasn’t letting me get away that easy.

“Suck my cock, fuck cunt.” She slurred. “God, I’ve always wanted to say that.”

I lent forward to comply and, as I did so, my sodden hair fell forward against her naked thighs.

“Oh my God, get off me.” She screamed and pushed me away. “Euch! Look what the cunt’s done to me. God, she’s filthy.”

“That’s enough.” Karen laughed. “Steve, take fuck cunt back to the shed will you and I think she needs to learn about keeping her legs apart so the leg spreaders may be appropriate tonight.”

Steve lit a storm lantern and, lifting me by my shoulder, led me back to the shed. Once we had got there, rather than putting me over the horse again I was laid on the floor face down and, as Mistress Karen had requested, my ankles were fitted with a leg spreader holding me wide open. Steve then fetched a length of chain and fastened it in a loop around my neck. He then took a large metal peg from the bench and, using a heavy hammer, drove it into the dirt floor of the shed. The chain was then fastened to the peg leaving maybe a foot of slack between the peg and my neck and I was tethered, my movement limited to what I could squirm and how far the chain would let me. It was almost a relief not to be hooded again but, once Steve had left, taking the lantern with him, the darkness was absolute.

Sleep was slow to come and when it did it was shallow and patchy. At first the silence was as absolute as the dark but then the moon came out and a limited amount of light filtered through the chinks in the boarding. With the light there came small animal noises, little scratching, scurrying sounds coming out of the shadows. I couldn’t see anything, there was nowhere near enough light for that, but I could hear that the shed was infested. Mice, rats, racoons? It could have been any of those and then, when I felt the tiny claws scampering across my body, my scream must surely have woken the others in the cabin. Nobody came, however and, although my scream seemed to have frightened off whatever it was, it was a long time before I stopped shaking and my imagination kept hearing noises just beyond the range of hearing.

And then the storm blew in, one of those mountain storms which come out of nowhere, last half an hour and disappear again. The wind got up and, with the moon once again obscured, total darkness returned. At first it was just the rattling of lose boards in the increasingly gusting wind that kept me awake, then it was the drumming of the torrential rain. The noise on it’s own was deafening but in terms of keeping me awake that soon took second place to the drips. The shed’s construction may have been waterproof once upon a time but now the roof leaked like a sieve and, to cap it all, I appeared to be lying in a depression, a depression which was fast filling with water. It took a while for the rain to seep its way through but once it had there was a steady drip, drip, drip landing on my back which continued long after the rain had gone. I tried to manoeuvre away from it but only succeeded in churning up the mud in the puddle in which I lay. It seemed that wherever I moved there was a drip and the only thing to do was lie there and take it, cold, wet and thoroughly miserable.

Maybe it was the rain, maybe it was because I was lying in a puddle or maybe I shouldn’t have drunk so much water earlier on but, quite frankly, I didn’t have much choice and I don’t think it would have made that much difference. Whatever it was I was now about to pay the price. The water I had drunk had gone straight through me and increasingly my bladder was beginning to complain. Under other circumstances I would have clamped my knees together but the leg spreader prevented this and, anyway, I was only delaying the inevitable. As with so many other things I had to resign myself to the unavoidable and take what was coming to me. Once I had crossed the Rubicon, once I had decide to wet myself there was even a sense of relief as the urine flowed from me and, for a short while, the water around my groin was warm, not cold.

I was therefore cold, wet and increasingly exhausted when I saw the torch flickering through the gaps in the boarding. There was a rattle of timber as the door was unbarred and, with the usual creak Bob pushed the door open.

“Hi, I told you I would come.” He said shining the light in my face.

“Bob, you...” I started to warn him about Karen.

“Shh.” He cut across me. “Keep quiet, we don't want to wake anyone. Now, where are the keys.”

Bob's exhortation to be quite was somewhat ruined by the way that he wouldn't stop talking and the noise he was making as he rummaged around on the bench looking for the keys. As he searched he was getting increasingly frantic and even resorted to tugging at the chain that held me down but the peg held firm. Once again he returned to the bench muttering 'What to do, what to do, what to do' all the while. He was so engrossed he didn’t notice when Mistress Karen and Steve arrived, standing at the door holding a storm lantern. My eyes met Mistress Karen's and she gave me a conspiratorial smile and held a finger to her lips. She let Bob rummage about for a few more moments more before...

“Is this what you're looking for?” Mistress Karen asked sweetly holding the keys out in front of her.

“I... I... I...” Bob stuttered as he spun round knocking bits and pieces off the bench.

“Oh, I know all about your little plan.” Mistress Karen continued. “fuck cunt told me all about it earlier, just after you’d come in for you 'blow job'. Yeah, that’s right, it was fuck cunt that ratted on you. It seems that she was keener to stay with me than to escape with you.”

“But... But...” Bob still couldn't get a coherent sentence together.

“Oh shut up, you despicable worm. It's no wonder fuck cunt didn't want to escape, she's got far more discernment than to go with a slug like you. Look at you, fat, useless, and without a clue. Did you really think an incompetent like you could get the better of me?

Well, you’re going to find out exactly how wrong you were. In the meantime, whilst you wait until I decide exactly how I’m going to deal with you you’re going to spend the night with here in the shed. Get on the floor, naked, now!”

“Please, Karen…” Bob began.

“Floor. Naked. Now!” Mistress Karen strode across the shed and grabbed a riding crop from the bench. Bob looked at her, at the way she held the crop ready to strike, he looked at Steve guarding the door and back at Mistress Karen. Nervously his fingers reached for his the zip of his jacket and he tugged it down as he started to undress. Mistress Karen slashed at him with the riding crop catching him across the backs of his thighs.

“Faster, slug, I haven’t got all night.” Bob needed no further urging, he started to tear off his clothes dropping them in an untidy pile on the floor. His jacket was followed by his shirt revealing a well developed beer belly. Then, as he started to push down his jeans we all got a surprise.

“Well, well, well. Look at this.” Mistress Karen pointed with her riding crop to the bulge in Bob’s boxers that he was desperately trying to hide with his hands. “Come along now, slug, don’t be shy, show us all the hard on you’ve got.”

Bob glanced at Mistress Karen and, seeing the determined expression on her face started to push down his boxers to reveal his swollen prick standing hard and proud. Mistress Karen poked at it with the end of the riding crop causing Bob to squirm.

“Look, fuck cunt, now we see what your knight in shining armour is made of. He couldn’t get it up for a blow job from you but as soon as I threaten him with a riding crop he’s super hard. Looks like he’s a little subbie too. Too bad I couldn’t care less about training him.” Mistress Karen turned her attention back to Bob. “Did I say you could stop? Why aren’t you naked? Why aren’t you on the floor?”

Feverishly Bob pushed his boxers right off,  Mistress Karen hitting him all the time with the crop. Naked at last he got down on the floor to lie on his stomach next to me. Mistress Karen got some shackles from the bench and, with a speed and efficiency that belied long practice, started to hog tie him. As she did so she wrinkled her nose.

“God, something stinks in here. Have you wet yourself, fuck cunt?”

“Yes, Mistress Karen.” I mumbled.

“Dirty little fuck cunt, isn’t she?” and taking Bob by the hair she pushed his face into the puddle, rubbing his nose in it as if he were a naughty puppy.

“Right, that’s that dealt with.” Mistress Karen stood up. “You two should be safe until the morning and I can go back to bed and get some well earned rest.

With that she and Steve left and the shed was returned to total darkness.

“Why did you have to tell her?” Bob whined. “Why did you have to ruin everything?”

“Oh, shut up, Bob, you’re despicable, you know that?” I replied. “Now get some sleep, were going to need it.”

Bob grunted and squirmed about a bit but, after a while he settled down and it was no surprise that he began to snore loudly. It looked like I was in for a long night.