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In the Barn

After she got the email, she did as she was told- that is the point of deciding to submit to control. She downloaded and printed the PDF file, but did not read it then, just folded the several pages of it into an envelope. She took the next afternoon off from work, making a vague excuse, and drove out to the next county, where her friend owned a small rural house and a few acres. Her friend was off on a tropical cruise, again, and had asked her to check up once in a while. The envelope lay on the seat next to her as she drove. As instructed, she was overdressed for this country drive, wearing a skirted suit, fancy blouse, heels and stockings.

When she pulled her car into the yard, an hour later, the grass had begun to get a little too long, and the place looked dusty in the slanting sunlight. She parked on the gravel, and walked behind the house to the small barn, hardly more than an old garage. She fitted the key to the padlock, and slid the door open on rusty tracks. The envelope was in her hand, along with the small bag she had been told to bring.

The space was cool and still, with dust in the air and the sun filtering through windows coated with years of dirt. It had never been a working barn, just a storage building, with a small loft and a rough cement floor. The board walls were unpainted inside, and except for a clear area to store a car, the corners of the room were piled with dusty junk long forgotten. She stepped in, and then slid the old door with its dusty window closed and used the padlock to lock it from the inside. Breathing harder, she opened the envelope and read Ms Donna's note for the first time.

'Slut, here you belong to me, and you are nothing. Get those clothes off quickly, and throw them in the corner. Keep the panties and the shoes, everything else off. Right now. Then you can read more.'

Quickly, she set the note on the window ledge, and removed the expensive jacket first, then the skirt and the blouse. She paused a second, then crumpled them into a bundle and tossed them into a dusty pile. Standing in heels, stockings, bra and panties, she returned to the note.

'Look at yourself, the contrast- your fancy lingerie, the tall heels, and this broken down place. Yell out loud, beg me to let you touch yourself, like you want to now. Put the leather wrist cuffs on now, then feel your breasts through the bra, look at the hard leather next to your fine lace. Beg me out loud to let you touch yourself,'

She surprised herself with her shout, calling at the top of her voice, begging for her absent Mistress to allow what she needed. With the cuffs buckled on she pulled the half cup Wacoal lace bra down to expose her breasts, her tits, and pinched the nipples hard while she called out.

'Bra off, slut, use your hands to hold those tits, feel how small they are, use the thumbs on the nipples, then put both hands in your panties, from front and back, finger your cunt and your ass and see how ridiculous you look.' She did, with her arms awkwardly curved under her, feeling the leather cuffs against her thighs.

'Toss the dildo vibe across the room, as far as you can. Put the soft gag in your mouth, beg with your eyes. Panties off, keep the fuck-me shoes on. To earn the vibe, you need to crawl like the slut you are. I want you naked, on your belly, breasts brushing the floor, hands cuffed together, crawling three times across the room and back to beg to use that vibe in your wet cunt. Go.'

She took the dildo from the bag, and threw it across the barn, into a pile of wood and rusted tools. She urgently pushed her panties down, over her shoes, and knelt, then got down face first on the rough and dusty cement. Her cuffed hands were in front of her, as she crawled on elbows and knees, keeping her hard nipples dragging on the unfinished floor. As she crawled, with her mouth stuffed full, she felt the leather of her expensive shoes scuffing on the rough surface. She crawled across, then back again, feeling her nipples making a trail in the dust.

At the end of three passes, she was sweating and dirty, with her hair hanging loose. She knelt by the wood pile, her knees sore, as she scrabbled in the tools and junk to find the obscene pink dildo. She was kneeling as she turned her eyes up to beg, then rolled to her side on the floor and used her cuffed hands to slide it into her wet cunt and switch it on. She was lying in a fetal position on the cold floor, with the note crumpled in her hand, as she worked the vibrator deep into herself and over her hard clit.

'Yes, slut. You may cum now, do it. Once you do, I want you to think about what a dirty needy slut you are for me. You are not allowed to get dressed, or to clean up, for one hour. Stand against a post or a wall, tie yourself if you can, and stand with legs apart. Feel the juices you made dribble down your thighs. See yourself that way, the contrast of your smooth, velvety, cared for skin and the rough place in which you are used. Keep the gag in, but no more touching your cunt or nipples, let only the air touch them. At the end of an hour, you may put on your skirt and jacket only, no blouse or underwear, and drive away. I want you to think about how you were willing to degrade yourself because you needed this so much, you needed my permission to be the sexual creature you are under your everyday life.'

She rode the vibrator, lying on the cold cement, and screamed against the gag. Afterwards, she round an old rope and looped it over a beam, then around her wrists and stood for an hour, her back against a wooden post. As it got darker, she could see herself reflected in the old window, standing naked and used. When she dressed, in her badly wrinkled skirt and jacket, she felt her naked skin under the clothing, barely covered. During her drive back, she left her blouse, bra, panties, and the note in the bag, in a restroom for some other woman to find, and to understand her submission this way.

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