Sylvie

Sylvie looked once more at the barn. It had obviously been deserted for many years, cobwebs were abundant, holes in the walls were in need of repair, and the rusted lock had come away in her hands. This is where she planned her next escapade. Far from prying eyes, except the road from the trees to the barn. Half a mile where she could be discovered.

 

Could she do this? Could she take the risk?

 

In her work life  Sylvie was an executive with an advertising firm. Any form of bad publicity would get her fired, even though she had been with the company for twelve years. She knew the risks, but was she able to take them?

 

The barn was well over thirty miles from her own home, so the chances of her being recognised were slim, but she knew the possible exposure could get her arrested if she was caught and exposed.

 

A short half a mile, that could mean the end of all she held so dear.. but her longing to try this was overwhelming. She knew, even though the risks were great, that she just had to do it.

 

She went back to her car and drove home slowly, not wanting to raise a commotion, not wanting to be seen today, if only so that were she seen later, no one would be able to report her car.

 

The drive was uneventful, and Sylvie arrived home safely, though somewhat excited. She had seen no-one on the country road, and was feeling slightly more easy about what she was planning.

 

She had a week’s holiday in which to do this, not that she would take a week, she simply wanted the leisure time in which to do it and recover. She could already feel  her pussy was dripping, but she had made a deal with herself, no sex of any form until this was over. The vibrator was spending lonely nights in her pantie drawer, not its usual home.

 

Sylvie checked her bag to make sure everything she wanted was there. The one aspect that worried her was the enormous butt plug she had bought from the internet recently. She had never had anything so big in her life, but, that was part of the plan. New ideas, new tasks, and new toys.

 

Picking up her bag Sylvie left the house and locked the door, pausing to put the padlock and cuff keys through the mail box. Now, if she really went through with this, she could not release herself until she reached home again.

 

She had considered actually leaving the keys on the kitchen table, but then thought that posting them through her own mail box would be a part of the ordeal itself, a willing act, one to show she was committed to it.

 

The thirty mile drove back to the barn was quiet, she saw no-one, and she hoped no-one had seen her. The barn loomed in front of her, the light of the day fading fast as she drove through the open barn doors.

She had brought a brand new padlock for the barn door with her, to safe guard her car, and also to ensure that she would not be able to get easy release once she had started the task. The keys to the padlock were placed in a waste bin to one side of the barn, out of sight,. This would ensure no passer bye would open the barn door and steal her car, and her means of getting home.

 

The path she wanted started half a mile up the road, and so picking up her rucksack she started out on her treck. The night sky was almost black, no moon, and few starts visible. Her hearing seemed much more acute as she walked the lane, hearing the wind blow in the trees almost as if she were standing under them, but they were a quarter of a mile away. There is a marked difference between country and city. No light pollution, no sounds. Save the natural sounds of the cattle in the distance mooing, and an occasional dog barking in the distance.

 

At last, Sylvie found the turn off she was looking for, and checking that there was no-one about, she lit her flashlight, showing her the thin muddy trail she was traverse. Gingerly she stepped onto the path, and left the road behind her.

 

It was only now she could hear the strange sounds of the country side. Owls hooting in trees, mud squelching beneath her feet, each seem amplified in the darkness of the night. A slight drizzle had started before Sylvie had left the road, but the weather forecast for the night had been pretty good. She knew that on her return the ground would be much more muddy, but she had accepted this, and ignored the light rain as it fell on her.

 

He clothes became wet, but that didn’t matter, she was soon to leave them behind.  She looked at her watch, the face hard to distinguish, even though it was supposed to be illuminated. She thought it said 11.45, and wondered how much longer to her target.

 

The rain started to fall a little heavier, and Sylvie wished she had brought an umbrella, though what good that would do on the return journey, Sylvie was unsure. She felt a smile on her lips, which turned to laughter as she realised that no matter what protection she could have brought, it was not going to make any difference on the way back.

 

Another hour, and Sylvie finally reached her destination. During the day it was a small clearing, but at night, it was just somewhere she could begin her task. The darkness hid the fact that she was surrounded by trees, trees with thorns. If Sylvie made any mistakes, she would be stabbed by thorns, and she already knew that they would hurt, having deliberately brushed against them when she had planned this ordeal.

 

It was now or never for Sylvie. Slowly, she undressed, feeling  the weight of the wet clothes leave her as she stripped. The jumper she had worn was thrown in one direction, the trousers in another. Her panties were sent flying in a direction Sylvie could not even see, and her bra in the opposite direction. The last thing Sylvie had to dispose of, was the flashlight. If she threw this, there was no chance until morning of finding the clothes she had strewn about. .

 

Reluctantly, Sylvie brought her arm back holding the flashlight, and with a single movement, launched it, regretting as she did so that she had done, but exhilerated  at the same time. Even if she didn’t carry out the rest of her task, she would now have to find her way naked back to her car.

 

Sitting in the clearing Sylvie opened her ruck sack, and felt inside for the things she wanted. The first thing would be the gag, easy to identify, easy to apply. She opened her mouth wide, and felt the ball gag bury itself in her mouth, passing the straps behind her, and pulling them tight, ensuring the gag would not fall out, or be pushed out.

 

As she pulled out the first piece of rope, Sylvie wished she had kept the flashlight a little longer, if only to see what she was doing, but it was too late for that now. By feel alone she looped the rope around her chest just under her larger than average breasts, and tied a knot, before passing the rope around herself again, just over the breasts, and securing it t the front. She knew that even as she pulled the rope down and under the rope under her breast and pulled it tight, it would squeeze her breasts, and that they would harden. She had practised this so many time with the lights on and with the lights off, until she could perfect it in the dark. And perfect it she did. By the time Sylvie had finished. Her tits were tight and hard. Had she been able to see them, she would also have seen they had started to turn colour.

 

Feeling in the bag she found the butt plug. She had considered packing lubricant, but had reasoned that in the dark she would never find it, not with everything else in her ruck sack. Squatting slightly, Sylvie pressed the end of the plug to her closed ring. She had used plugs before, but never anything this big. Gritting her teeth, Sylvie started to press the butt plug at her jewel, the tip forcing her wide, and she moaned as it slowly forced its way inside her. She was not sure she could do this, but also knew she had to. Holding the plug in place. The tip only in her ass, Sylvie  squatted on the grass, her knees supporting her weight. Slowly. She sank down on it. Screaming as she felt the huge plug force its way slowly inside her. When squatting was not getting it any deeper, Sylvie changed positions, and started to sit down on it, her legs out in front of her, so as not to support her weight, her weight being held by her arms. It was now or never, and taking the bull by the horns, she lifted her arms off the floor…feeling her body drive down onto the plug, driving it deep inside her. He screams were louder than she expected as she could feel the plug, as if it was ripping her apart.

 

She waited a few minutes , listening, in case someone had heard her screams and came to assist. But, no-one came, no sound came rushing at her.

 

Slowly, Sylvie stood, the plug deep inside her, almost splitting her ass in two. But, she knew she would soon get used to it, and would eject it. Leaning forward she found another piece of rope and forming a crotch rope, pulled it tight between her legs, holding the plug in place.

 

Sylvie looked at her watch again, it was almost 2.00 am, and it would be daylight in about three hours.

 

Each time Sylvie bent over, she could feel the butt plug, and knew she had chosen one too big. But there was no escape now. Even if she cancelled the task, it would be light before she got back to her car. Feeling in the dark Sylvie found the cuffs with a short chain link between them. The chain was only six inches long, meaning she would take only small steps once they were fastened to her ankles. Quickly, before she could change her mind, Sylvie fastened the cuffs around each of her ankles, knowing that they keys for these lay behind her front door so many miles away.

 

The ruck sack contained only one more item, another pair of cuffs, with an even shorter chain, two inches. Taking a last look at her watch, and then throwing the ruck sack into the trees,  Sylvie pressed one end of the cuffs around her left wrist.. she placed the other cuffs slowly against her right wrist, one press, and she was trapped, naked until she got home, and knowing that in a very short time, that daylight would come. Sylvie also knew, that  even if she didn’t lock the other cuff, it would make no real difference, she couldn’t walk at normal pace, the leg irons would make sure of that, and her clothes and the main keys, were lying behind her door, Sylvie really had no choice, and slowly, placed her hand in the one loose end of the cuff…and with her other hand…started to close it, hearing each click as it took  away her freedom.

 

Knowing, now, that her only chance of freedom was to get back to her car, find the barn key, open the barn and get in the car, Sylvie started her slow journey. On the way up, she had the flashlight, and was able to move at any pace she wanted, but now the flashlight was gone, and the chain between her ankles restricted her ability to walk. This was not helped by the mud beneath her feet. The rain had not stopped, and in fact had grown heavier. It was only then that Sylvie had realised that she had been unaware of this fact, so busy concentrating on her task to notice.

 

Within the first twenty yards, Sylvie had found herself on the ground three times, the mud giving way under her feet. This was going to be a slow process, much slower than she had originally planned.

 

Sylvie realised very quickly that travelling along a track. Flashlight in hand, at a free pace, was so very different to doing the reverse journey, in the dark, and hobbled. Time after time she lost her footing, her body slowly getting coated in mud.

 

She looked again at her watch, but now was unable to see the time, as there was mud on the dial. But she could hear birds singing in the trees, and knew instinctively that dawn was fast approaching. How far had she come? How much farther to go?  Was she going to make it to the barn before daylight? Even as she asked herself this, she knew the answer, she was never going to make it to the barn in darkness. The hobble and the mud were slowing her down, though she did not know how far she was behind schedule.

 

The first signs of dawn slowly started to filter through the trees, and thought this made it easier for Sylvie to see where she was, and where she was going, the hobble still reused to let her move any faster. A stump of a tree she should have passed long before light came. Was to her left, which meant by the time she reached the road, it would be clear daylight.

 

Still. She struggled on, trying to move faster, but simply falling over the hobble, crashing down to the ground. The rain had stopped, but the mud remained. Sylvie was pleased with herself, at least the mud was giving her a soft landing..

 

At last, Sylvie reached the road, but now the sun was high overhead, and she knew that the chances of getting seen were now greatly amplified. But she had no choice, unless she waited for darkness again. But her stomach was rumbling already, wanting its breakfast cereal, but not able to partake.

 

It was only then that Sylvie started to feel hunger, nothing drastic yet, but wouldn’t it be nice to sit down in the comfort of her own home, and eat a bacon sandwich….the grease covering her lips, as it slid slowly past her lips.

 

Sylvie brought herself back to the moment, leaving the bacon far behind. Before she could get to the sandwich, she had to get down this road. The previous night, and the previous times she had walked this route, it had taken her less than fifteen minutes, but that was without a hobble restricting her, and, she had not had this dildo in her ass, the dildo that was now irritating her more than anything she had ever known.

 

Had she not tied the crotch rope behind her, she could have released it and got rid of the plug, but that had never been an option. She wanted to dildo to stay in until she reached home, and safety..

 

Sylvie was half way down the road, half way to safety, when her world fell apart. She was so busy concentrating on the road, she didn’t hear the sound until it was too late. Not the sound of a car, which she had been listening for, but a motorcycle, and even before she could react and hide, the cycle had past her.

 

Sylvie knew instinctively that the rider must have seen her, and moved closer to the roads edge in an effort to hide. But, what was the point in hiding, she had already been seen.

 

Sylvie worked out in her mind that she could only be a couple of hundred yard now from the barn, maybe two hundred yards from safety. She listened, but could not hear the motorcycle, and decided to make the final effort, moving as fast as her hobbles would allow. The sun was now bright in the sky, and Sylvie started to feel a little hungry. She tried to remove the gag as she moved ever slowly towards the barn, but, it was fastened behind her, and out of each.

 

Eventually, Sylvie saw the barn, only two hundred yards to go, freedom. She could feel it, taste it, even thought she still had to drive home in order to release herself.

 

Less than fifty yards, she could taste freedom. Then suddenly, that noise she had heard earlier resounded in her ears. The motorcycle. She had been so concentrating on her imminent release, she had stopped listening, and the sound of the cycle so close, sent her into a panic.

 

Without thinking Sylvie dropped to her right into some bushes, hardly feeling the thorns from the brambles as she sank to the ground, hoping she had not been seen.

 

The motorcycle engine was close enough for her to taste the exhaust fumes, so she sank her head down to the ground as far as she could. After a few minutes the motorcycle started to move away again, and Sylvie breathed a sigh of relief. She could still hear the engine, not as close as before, but it meant the rider may be in a position to see her if she moved to the barn.

 

If Sylvie was lucky, the rider would hopefully assume he had imagined seeing her, but she knew this was a forlorn hope, he had ridden past her only feet away from her.  That she could still hear his engine meant he was looking for her. And Sylvie doubted that he would simply want to pass the time of day with someone as helpless and naked as she was.

 

It was just about that time that Sylvie realised something she had not given ahy thought to at all. She had expected, or at least hoped, to be home by this time, but now she needed to answer the call of nature. She could still hear the engine, though she was convinced, now, that it had moved further way, and yet at the same time was half convinced that the rider knew where she was, and was sat with his engine idling, waiting for her to appear.

 

Feeling it too dangerous to stand, she lay on her back and opened her knees as wide as she could. Opening her legs themselves was out of the question due to the leg irons. At first, nothing, then a slow warm trickle, before the full thrust of relief. At first she didn’t realise it, but the puddle was directly between her legs, and was running backwards towards her. She wanted to get up and run away, but this was never going to happen. The urine seemed attracted to her, and she knew that as the sun started to dry the ground and her, she would soon start to smell of it herself.

 

Without realising she was doing it, Sylvie curled up in a ball, as much as the dildo she now hated would let her. Bringing her arms up to her head, she rested on them, and felt the hot sun on her naked body. At least she may get a sun tan, though only on one side.

 

Maybe it was the silence, or had she heard something. Sylvie was suddenly awake, and the realisation she had actually slept hit her. It had been a long and tiring night, not to say painful with the leg irons and the hand cuffs digging into her. But she had not actually realised she was tired.

 

How long had she slept? Minutes? Hours? She looked at her watch, rubbing it on the ground to clear the dried mud off the face. It was 6.30, but was that morning or evening? In summer it was light at both times..

 

It was only then that she realised she could no longer hear the motorcycle engine. At first she convinced herself it was a trap to lure her out. “damn” she thought to herself, “getting paranoid”

 

Slowly, she started to raise herself from the ground. First onto her knees, then into a crouch, ready to drop again if she saw or heard the cycle or its rider. But only the silence came back to her. Eventually standing up, feeling the tension in her legs, she peered through the bramble, to find the farm yard empty. The barn just a few yards away, the door still closed. At least the car would still be inside.

Hunger seemed to find a way to torment her, seeing a sheep on the hillside above her, and relishing how it would taste, cooked slowly, with a mint or rosemary sauce, new potatoes and fresh vegetables.

 

Sylvie pushed the thought from her mind, and concentrated on her next move. She knew she couldn’t stay where she was forever, and now her body ached in so many places. She wanted to be home, soaking in a hot bath, with hot food inside her. Taking her courage in one hand, Sylvie slowly moved forwards, ready to fall back to the ground if she saw or heard anyone. But the yard was deserted.

 

Moving through the bramble, not even noticing that she was already marked, and getting more of them, she moved to the edge, one more step and anyone with a view of the yard, would see her.

 

Maybe it was the hunger that drove her. Maybe the pain now being caused by the huge dildo, but what ever it was, Sylvie made her decision, and moved clear of the trees, heading slowly and painfully towards the barn. She kept her ears open in case anything came, but also knew that as she moved closer to the barn, there was nothing she could do to avoid detection should someone be close enough.

 

The last few yards seemed to take forever, each second lasting an hour, as she moved towards the barn. Eventually, she was there, and was moving slowly arund the barn to where she had hidden the padlock key.

 

At first, she panicked, as she couldn’t find it, but eventually it was in her hands, hands that now shook uncontrollably. Once more she started to move slowly, back around the barn to its heavy doors. It took her a few minutes to get the key into the lock, this task not being aided by her cuffed wrists. But the lock finally came open, and Sylvie dropped the lock and the keys to the floor.

 

With great difficulty, she managed to start opening the barn doors. Surely they hadn’t been this heavy last night when she had parked the car in there. But she remembered, the doors were open when she had arrived, and closing them hadn’t been a problem, partly, she guessed, as she had been dressed, free and stronger than she felt right now.

 

The task of opening the doors seemed endless, her ankles now starting to bleed from where the cuffs were digging in so hard. But at last, they were open enough for her to be able to drive the car through. Not totally open, but enough.

 

Running as fast as the six inch hobble would allow her, Sylvie reached the safety of her car, only falling over three times in the process. Once inside the car she opened the glove compartment and took out the keys, searching also for any long forgotten sweets or chocolate bars, but there was nothing.

 

Sylvie had always driven an automatic car, which at this moment was a blessing, as with her feet cuffed only six inches apart, she would not have been able to handle three pedals. She put the key into the ignition and started the car, hearing its familiar purr. She was just about to put the car into gear and drive off, when it dawned on her that she was still naked. She suddenly realised she had stopped thinking of herself as naked, but were she seen, someone may call the police and she would be arrested.

She looked at her watch again. 8.00, she assumed that was evening, and knew it would still be too light for her to drive for at least another hour. Another hour sat there helpless, hungry and feeling that dildo inside her. She had already grown to hate it, but now she loathed it.

 

She sat slowly going through the night and the day in her mind, still amazed at herself that she had not been caught. That motorcyclist would not, she told herself, have been nice, he would surely have taken advantage of her, maybe even done worse than have sex, maybe even kill her.

 

Her whole body shook at this thought. It was something she would have to consider next time.

 

“next time?” she suddenly screamed in her mind. How could she be considering doing this again> she hadn’t even got home from this one yet, and she was already trying to figure how to make the next time better. Had she lost her mind?

 

At last, the light started to fade, but Sylvie gave it another half an hour to be on the safe side. The first twenty miles should be okay, as it was countryside, and by the time she reached civilisation, it should be dark enough for her to escape detection.

 

It took Sylvie over two hours to drive the thirty miles home, pulling off at quiet junctions here and there to make sure no-one was following her. Paranoia was getting the best of her.

 

Stopping the car in her driveway, Sylvie looked all around to make sure no neighbours would see her getting out of the car, and hobbling naked to her door. It took several minutes for her to decide it was safe enough, and then as fast as she could, she sorted out the house key in her hand, opened the car door, and kangaroo jumped the last few steps, opening the lock as fast as she could, and almost falling through the doorway.

 

An hour later, sat in her bath, studying the abrasions caused by the cuffs, and looking at the dildo, now sat on the floor of the bathroom, Sylvie broke into tears.

 

Next time she would not use a dildo, she promised herself. She knew, even then, that this trip had really only sharpened her thirst for more adventures, if only she could have shared it with someone……………………