Authors Note: These chapters will make almost no sense if not read in order. If you haven't, I strongly suggest you go back to the introduction and chapter 1.
Warning, we're back to the loving sadism. Enjoy.
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Fred woke with the dawn, something he almost never did. After dressing and having a good breakfast with coffee, Fred gathered up a roll of Vet Wrap, the handcuffs and key ring, stuffed the Single Tail into his belt and headed out to wake Clair.
Because the shed was basically light proof, Clair was still in a deep sleep. Fred opened the door and called "Time to wake up"
Clair didn't move. Fred didn't think she had moved all night, the dirt didn't look like she had rolled over or moved her legs at all. In fact, he wasn't sure she was breathing. He almost panicked but then he saw her take a deep breath. "OK" thought Fred, "I can fix this!"
Fred gathered the bucket he had used to wash Clair yesterday, dropped the brush that was still inside by the barn and filled the bucket with water. He unceremoniously threw the bucket on the full length of Clair's body.
She shot up to sitting position, "What... Where... OUCH," she exclaimed as she tried to cover herself with her hands, only to remember too late, that they were still attached to her neck.
"That was mean," Clair said while looking up at him with a coy expression.
"Well, I didn't want you to be late for today's agenda of torture and sexual depravity. And it's 'That was mean SIR.'"
"You're so good to me, Sir." Clair said sarcastically.
Fred grabbed her upper arm and helped her up. It's hard to get off the floor without the use of your arms, plus Clair's legs just didn't want to work yet. Once standing she also realized, with some surprise, that her feet were still sore from her hours in high heels.
The block and tackle off the front of the barn was still hanging down from yesterday morning. Fred pushed Clair out the shed door in front of him, "I'm sure a smart cunt like you can figure out what's next on the agenda."
"A spa day?" asked Clair, adding a few seconds later, "Sir."
"I suppose you could call it a refreshing cleansing of the pores with high pressure, temperature-controlled water, of course the temperature in question is best described as ice water." Fred laughed.
Clair stopped under the hook and Fred unlocked her wrists from the neck chain. Pulling Vet Wrap out of his back pocket he wrapped each of Clair's wrists again. She continued to hold her hands in front, but Fred pulled them behind her and locked the cuffs on behind her back. Clair was surprised but she decided she had been snarky enough for the morning and kept quiet. Fred hooked the hook below the block and tackle on the handcuff chain, went to the barn door and started raising the hook.
He had never put Clair in a strappado; hell, before this week he hadn't done much more than tie her spread eagle on a bed. He raised the hook slowly, watching for Clair's reaction. When he had her bent 45 degrees at the waist and her arms at about halfway to vertical, he stopped. Fred walked over and put his hand on the back of Clair's head. He just stood there for a minute watching her experiment with her position. She was feeling the effects of standing up straighter, which put more strain on the shoulders, or bending over, which was hard on the legs and back.
After a minute Clair figured out why Fred was just standing there. She thought about being bratty again, that was kind of a fun way of sending signals to Fred. But she also remembered how much he agonized over hurting her more than he had intended with his belt. She decided to just talk to him. "This hurts," she said, "but I'm adjusting. Can we try just a little more please sir?"
"You will tell me if you think you are approaching joint damage." Fred wasn't asking, he was telling her.
"Yes sir, I promise."
He raised her arms another six inches and watched her dance for a bit. Clair was trying to get as far up on her tiptoes as possible, but that was making it hard to keep her balance and so she was stepping back and forth on her toes. "OK," thought Clair, "this really hurts, I can't take this for long."
After enjoying this ballet en pointe for a few minutes, Fred uncoiled the hose and wet Clair down. She held her breath as the cold water hit her and, trying to turn away from the water, sent a shock though her shoulders. Fred poured some soap into the bucket, added some water, and poured a liberal amount over Clair's hair. After washing her hair and face, he grabbed the brush off the ground and started to wash the rest of Clair. In doing so, he pushed her back and forth, increasing her agony.
Before rinsing her down, he dumped the rest of the soapy water over her head, then turned the bucket upside down and put it about a foot in front of her.
"You may stand on the bucket if you wish." Fred told her and turned to coil the hose back on its holder.
Clair looked at the bucket and thought "Bastard!"
She tried to reach the bucket with one foot but doing so caused her to completely loose her balance and yank painfully on her wrists and shoulders.
"Fred PLEASE! My shoulders."
Fred snapped around to look at Clair. With everything he had done to her yesterday she had not begged once. Now, she was honoring his instructions to tell him when she was afraid for her shoulders. He couldn't see her face, since her hair was hanging down all around it, but he quickly rushed back to her side and pushed the bucket under her. The bucket added a little more than a foot of height and made the strappado tolerable again.
Fred rinsed Clair's hair then hosed down the rest of her body. He noticed that her position was still extremely stressful because on the bucket, she couldn't dance back and forth when she lost her balance, she had to use her arms to try and get back to position. He had been planning to let Clair air dry again but quickly decided there was a lot he needed to learn about bondage positions. He did devise another mind fuck. Fred wanted Clair to start to spend the morning anticipating and dreading what he had planned for the afternoon.
"Clair, I'm going to leave you to air dry for an hour or so while I go watch some Porn on the porch. But before I go, I'll give you two choices. Remember that you clearly told me I wasn't going far enough and that you wanted me to 'break you'. I want you to have the experience you need so here are your choices. One, I'll put the bucket away." Fred paused to let the implications of that sink in.
"Or two, after lunch, I'll string you up and whip you until I think you're broken or until you use your safe word."
Clair knew she couldn't stand an hour of pain in her shoulders; she would have to safe word out for sure. Clair couldn't imagine disappointing Fred or herself by ending this early. But a whipping would be hours away. She was also smart enough to know Fred was going to whip her anyway.
"Please sir, I'll take the whipping."
"You may regret that decision, Clair; I plan to use my belt and the single tail."
"I'll still take the whipping sir."
Fred lowered Clair's wrists almost back to normal then told her to step off the bucket.
Fred went back to the house, grabbed a Dr. Pepper from the refrigerator, and took it to the porch swing. As he sat down, he hollered to Clair, "Turn around, I want that lovely ass of yours facing me." Clair was still slightly bent at the waist, pushing her ass out delightfully.
Fred hadn't reapplied sunscreen or bug spray to Clair so once he finished his drink and after about a half hour had passed, he decided she was dry enough. He walked over to Clair and untied her handcuffs from the hoist. Fred led her into the house by her neck chain, took off the handcuffs and again gave her fifteen minutes to use the bathroom, brush her teeth and do her hair. When she came back, with a minute to spare, Fred sent her back into their room with instructions to "put on slut makeup," complete with lipstick and lots of mascara. Clair rarely wore makeup and when she did, she wore very little. She wasn't exactly sure what Fred wanted but she tried. When she came out, he simply said, "Not slutty enough, try again," and sent her back.
