paolodesade

The picnic

The sky was a clear, brilliant blue, the air was filled with the scents of
nature as the open carraige carried them further into the countryside.
The sound of the horses hooves echoed through the forest as they passed.
She could feel his eyes on her, quietly appraising the effect of the cool
breeze on her pale, sun-dappled skin. The picnic basket, packed, she was
sure, by his housekeeper, sat on the seat between them. The chilled
bottles of mead and water were in a tub of ice at her feet.

They had
been traveling down this road for just more than an hour, and, just as
she was wondering how much further they were to go, he suddenly reined
in the horses and steered them to the side of the road. She watched as
he gracefully jumped down and unhitched the horses, setting them to
graze in the field at the side of the road. He held his hand out to help
her down, and she felt a shiver run through her at the feel of her soft
skin touching his rough, strong hand. He was not a large man, but she
could feel the power in his solid frame as he helped her down. He handed
her a blanket from behind the seat before taking the handle of the ice
tub in one hand, the picnic basket form the seat in the other hand, and
they started out across the field and up a gentle rise together.

She
looked up as they approached the to and saw a large, old oak tree that
had not been visable from the road and she suspected that he had not
picked this spot at random. He must have scouted for just such a
spot,far from prying eyes and ears, in the days since he had told her
about his plans for this outing, when he had informed her that he
intended to posses her completely, for all time. She had immediately
agreed, even though she knew what all that had entailed. Momentarily,
she felt fear and dread about what was to come, but her love for him and
trust in him quickly evaporated her fears, and she eagerly walked the
rest of the way with him to the tree.

When they arrived, she spread the
blanket under the shade of the tree, out of the hot, late summer sun,
and he set down the basket and ice-tub. He was sweating slightly from
the exertion and the muscles in his arms we're pumped and the veins
bulged in the heat. She flushed when she realized he was watching her,
that he was aware of what she was thinking, aware of his effect on her.
She turned away quickly and began unloading the lunch from the basket,
hoping to hide her slight embarassment. He opened the bottle of mead and
filled their glasses, giving her time to composs herself. The top of the
basket was a cutting board and, after handing her her glass,he quickly
sliced the cheese and apple and arranged the slices neatly around the
fresh loaf of rustic bread that he had no dought baked himself that
morning. There was also hard boiled eggs, grapes, and orange infused oil
dipping pieces of the bread into. They ate leisurely and drank deeply,
both enjoing this time and eagerly anticipating what was to come. They
talked idely of unimportant things, it was a lovely day and they would
not let anything serious intrude on it.

After they had eaten, he pulled
a bundle of black cloth out from the bottom of the basket and carefully
unrolled the first layer, exposing a small hand-carved bone pipe and a
small silver box which she knew contained part of a resin encrusted
flower from a cannabis plant that he grew in his greenhouse. She smilled
at the sight of it. She loved the effect that smoking this flower had on
her, especially when acompanied with the euphoric high of pain. She
quickly packed the remains of their meal into the basket as he pinched
off a piece of the fragrent flower bud and packed it into the bowl of
the pipe. He lit it and passed it to her, she drew the fragrent smoke
deep into her lungs, it burned and she tried unsucessfully, as always,
to supress the urge to cough. She offered the pipe back to him but he
just shook his head. As much as he wanted to join her, he knew he had to
be in total control for what came next. He told her that she needed to
smoke it all herself this time, she was going to need it.

He took the
pipe from her when she was finished and placed it into the basket along
with the silver box. He then unrolled the rest of the bundle of black
cloth. She recognized the lether bracelets and collar as being similar
to the others at the shop he had taken her to a few days before, when
she had been measured and fitted for them by a rather severe looking
lady who ran the shop and had made these as well as some other more
complex special devices that wouldn't be ready for awhile yet. She
gazed fixedly at the buckle of his belt as he locked the wide leather
collar onto her neck, the large ring in the front, just under her chin.
He undressed her slowly, carressing her bare skin with his rough hands
as it was expossed, sending small shocks through her whenever he touched
her. When she was completly naked he fastened the bracelets tightly onto
her wrists and, helping her stand, he led her to the tree. As they
approached it, she saw that he had indeed been her before. He had driven
three spikes into the tree, one on either side of the tree with hooks
for the bracelet rings, she had to stand on her tip-toes and hug the
tree, her naked body against the rough bark of the tree, in order to
reach up and around to the hooks as he attatched her to the tree. He
then ran a strap from the ring on her collar to the ring on the third
spike and pulled it tight. She she had to turn her head to the side as
the strap pulled her head firmly against the the tree, her cheek resting
against the bark. She was now totally at his mercy and she felt the fear
start to well up in her again, this time welcoming it as an old friend.
He left her ther to tire and fatigue her muscles while he went back to
the carraige for the rest of the tools that he would need.

When he
returned, almost twenty minuets later, he could see that she was almost
ready, her legs were shaking slightly with fatigue from the exertion of
standing in this very uncomfortable possition for so long and her face
was streaked with tears and sweat, the fear and pain he could see in her
eyes excited him. He tenderly kissed her cheek and spoke soothing words
to her, calming her. He asked her if she was ready, reminding her that
once it started he would not stop no matter what she said, no matter how
much she begged or screamed, there was no "safe-word" for this session.
After she agreed, he laid out the rest of his tools, the coiled
bullwhip, the riding crop, the hard leather paddle, the much used cane,
and finally, the cutting tools. He was ready to begin.