On a whim, I had replied to one of those people connection ads in the back of the newspaper and the lovely Samantha had been the result. From our first meeting in the shopping mall that fateful Saturday afternoon, it became increasingly evident that we were both eminently suited for each other. After a weekend of sex so passionate it makes my head spin each time I think about it, we discovered that we had more in common than could ever have been hoped for. During that first week, after introducing Sam to some of my old friends at a nightclub, I made a vow to myself that I would try my hardest to make this girl mine.

That following weekend marked a turning point in our relationship. I gave that pretty girl with the long brown hair what she had been seeking, as she told me on the phone afterwards, for all of her twenty-three years. I had tied her down to the heavy coffee table in my basement rec room, and had stroked her back and bum with the flogger over and over until she exploded in a most erotic display of pent up lust. After it was over, we had made such tender, sweet love up in my bed, and that was when I knew that she was mine.

I’d called her again on Monday night and we chatted until late into the night. Sam had told me after that first whipping that she thought she could have taken more, that she might like to try it harder. I’d gone somewhat easy on her, that being her first real time under the lash. She said that she had been scared at first, afraid of the unknown, but she told me that I’d been firm with her, taking the lead on that time, and she felt able to give herself over to me, trusting that I would bring her no harm.

I asked her how her pussy was. When I dropped her off at her place last Sunday afternoon, she had put my little lock through her two labia rings and locked it closed, then had given the keys to me.

“God, Jim,” she said, “Every time I sit down, it presses right on my clitty. If I move, it rubs me, if I wear panties, it presses me there. If I go without underwear and I walk around, the lock swings around in there, and pulls and tugs on me. I could hardly stand it at work today. As soon as I got home, I took off all my clothes. Then I stood in front of the mirror, I spread my legs, and I just stared.” Her voice got all soft while my dick began to rage. “I put my hand down there and touched the lock, pulled on it a bit. Then I went to my bed and lay down. I got out my vibrator and tried to put it in, but the lock was in the way. I tried to push it in past my rings, but I couldn’t.”

I had to reach inside my shorts and move something around. If this was phone sex, it wasn’t half bad. I listened to Sam’s sweet voice.

“The vibrator was making a loud noise buzzing against the lock. I couldn’t manage to get it inside me with it locked closed like this. I pushed the vibrator in between from the top so my lips held it against me and the middle of it was pressing right on my clit. When I took away my hand, it stayed there pressed to me with the lock rattling on the top and I thought about you having the keys at your place. I began to cum, Jim. It went on for a long time.”

“Mmmmm,” was all I could manage for a while, then I asked, “So your pussy lock doesn’t bother you too much?”

Sam missed the witticism. “I think I could get used to it,” she said.

After chatting a bit more, reluctantly we said our goodbyes. I could hardly get to sleep, thinking of her luscious pussy locked shut with my little brass lock. An evil idea began to take shape. In two weeks, it would be a long weekend. Sam had told me she liked camping, and so did I. A plan formed in my mind just before I drifted off to sleep that night.

I called Samantha the next morning and caught her before she left for work. I asked her if she would like to go on a camping trip on the long weekend. The holiday would be Monday.

“I don’t have to work Friday,” she said, “it’s my day off. We could have four days.”

“Great,” I told her. “I’ll call and see if I can book a spot.”

The big park I like to go to is quite busy during the summer, and usually you have to reserve a site well in advance, the nicer spots at least. On a long weekend the place would be packed. When I called the number, I hit a stroke of luck; there had been a cancellation in a campground that was one of my favourites. Looking at a map of the place, the site they had open backed onto the lake. A double bonus. I booked the site for four days. I called Sam that evening and told her. We talked for a while, but I began to sense there might be something wrong. She seemed preoccupied with something and it was not sex. Later on in the evening, she called me back.

“Hi Sam,” I said. “Everything all right?”

There was a pause, then she said, “No. I’ve got my period four days early.”

At first I thought, good. Better now then on our trip. Then it hit me. The lock. Ick!

“I’ll be there soon,” I said.

“Oh Jim,” she started, “You don’t have to come all this way. I’ll manage.”

“I’ll see you in a half hour,” I said. “Put the kettle on.”

Twenty-five minutes later, I was in the lobby of her building. Sam buzzed me up. She greeted me at her door with a warm hug and I was once more in heaven with my sweet Samantha in my arms. When we broke apart, I handed her my keys and she disappeared into the bathroom while I poured myself a cup of tea. Sam came back several minutes later wearing a terry bathrobe and looking more radiant. I poured her a tea as she sat down beside me. She handed me my keys and the little lock, still a bit wet, washed off.

“Feel better now?” I asked.

“Thank you, master,” she said as she snuggled close to me. I gently stroked her head as we sipped the tea. Her robe had slipped open a bit, giving me a nice view of her luscious tits and right down to her belly button. I set my cup down, then slipped my hand inside to cup a firm breast and rub her nipple with my thumb, feeling it harden under my touch. Sam bent forward to place her teacup on the table, then she slid down to kneel on the floor by my feet. I watched as she slipped open her robe and then moved her hands behind her, presenting herself before me. She had panties on, a pad inside, the bulge visible at her crotch. My pants had an obvious bulge too.

Samantha spoke. “How may this low one please Master?”

I smiled. I’d read of this, the referring to oneself in the third person. But having it dropped on me in such an inviting way gave me pause.

“Lead me to your bedchamber, girl,” I commanded.

Sam giggled and stood up. Taking my hand in hers, she led me to her bedroom. A small lamp in the corner illuminated your standard girl’s room, pink curtains over the windows, a soothing green and yellow general decor. On the walls were hung many paintings and drawings, hers I assumed. Over the bed was a huge watercolour, looking like an old English or a medieval village scene. My eyes were drawn from one piece to another as I looked around her room.

“Sam, put the light on please,” I said.

Samantha moved to the wall switch and turned on the ceiling light, then came to me again. The images before me sprang to life. Her works had a definite gothic theme to them; dragons, unicorns, castles. Nude women, often in some peril or helplessness. A girl with tender wings, held in the palm of a giant hand. Two unicorns, one, the male I assumed, standing proud on a hill top, the female on a lower cliff, the valley between them done in greens and browns. Two paintings together. One, a dragon with his back to the viewer, strong and mighty. The second, that of a girl dragon? Soft, not a scary dragon at all but, almost erotic in its pose.

I drew in a breath as my eyes settled on a sculpture on Sam’s bureau. The piece, painted clay, stood perhaps eighteen inches tall. A ruin of a castle perched on a cliff overlooking a lake or a sea. A dragon curled around the base of the piece, protectively hugging the cliff side. One window high up on a tower was painted yellow to indicate occupancy, a candlelight. The vague silhouette of a girl with long hair in the window, looking out. The work, the detail, was stunning. The painting over the bed drew me once more. I knelt on Sam’s bed to see closer. Sam sat down beside me and began to unbutton my shirt as I studied the painting. The thing that drew me to this room first, sex, now forgotten.

At first glance, and even after a good look, it seemed like your normal village life in ancient times piece. But there, at the side of the village square, partly hidden by a bush, a girl naked and locked in stocks. Her hands and head imprisoned by the rough looking wood, and three boys throwing red things, rotten tomatoes it appeared to be, at her. The girl’s face was covered by the fruit. Her hair, long and brown, touched the ground.

Near the stables, the blacksmith worked on something. Just behind the anvil, you could see it. Round it was, a shackle attached to a chain. Sparks seemed to fly out as the man forged the other red-hot ring of steel.

“Samantha?” I said.

“Yes?” her small voice replied.

In the stalls of the stable. Four horses and one. I peered close. It was. Standing behind the man grooming her, a pony girl. Her long chestnut mane hung almost to the girl’s knees.

“Samantha?” I said.

“Yes?”

I pointed to the stables in the painting.

“What’s this?” I asked her.

I turned away from the painting to look at her. Her eyes were on the bedspread, her face quite red.

“It’s a pony girl,” she said in a soft voice. “I read a story once about that sort of thing.”

I tilted her face up to me. I was smiling.

“I’ve read some of those kinds of stories too,” I said. “Your work is stunning, Sam. Absolutely beautiful.”

She began to smile again. “You really think so?” she asked. “Not many people have seen these things. I have a few more if you’d like to see them.”

Sam pulled out some drawings from beside the bureau. Some rough sketches, some other wonderful images. One caught my eye and I stared long at the picture. Done in pencil, dark and foreboding. A rugged shoreline, tall jagged rock. An iron hook high up in the stone, chains descending to solid looking shackles around the wrists of a frightened nude girl. Her long windswept hair partially obscured her face. Full breasts, narrow waist, bare feet on the hard rock. An ominous shadow approaching. I actually jumped like a timid girl when Sam spoke.

“Waiting for the dragon, I call that one.”

I shook my head in wonder. “Fantastic.”

“Would you like to keep that one?” she asked me.

Good manners told me I should refuse, or at least pretend to, but I couldn’t. I had to have that drawing.

“Sam, it’s absolutely beautiful. If you’re sure, I would love to have this one,” I said.

Sam gathered up all the drawings from her bed and stood them against the wall. She placed the one she was giving me on the bureau facing the bed. I saw that all of the marks from her whipping four days ago had disappeared. She wore just her panties, and I hadn’t noticed when she had dropped her robe. When she turned to me, I pulled off my shirt, then lay back down on her bed. Sam turned off the bright light, then crawled across the bed to lay down on top of me. I felt her firm breasts against my chest, her hair on my arms, saw her glowing face inches from mine.

“Thanks, Sam,” I said, “for being so adorable.” I kissed her and held her tight. We cuddled for a while until I noticed her clock was telling me it was past midnight and I had a meeting in the morning. Sadly, I told Sam I had to go.

“Dinner and a movie tomorrow,” I asked, “I’ll pick you up at five?”

“Dinner here at six,” Sam said, “and maybe we’ll skip the movie.”

I laughed. “That sounds fine to me.”

Samantha said she would make spaghetti, so the next evening I showed up with a nice bottle of red wine at her doorstep. I went up to her floor and found her door open a crack. I knocked, then walked in, and called out her name. I heard her in the kitchen, so I headed there. Samantha was leaning seductively against the counter, and she wore what could best be described as a slave girl outfit. It was just a simple white wrap of cloth pinned at the top and held up by her breasts. Her shoulders and arms were bare, her feet were too. Her hair was loose and spilled down her back, stopping a few inches above the hem of her garment, which ended about mid thigh. Her shiny chain belt was around her waist.

All that alone would have been enough to make my cock jump, but Sam had on something else that I simply couldn’t tear my eyes away from. Around her wrists, she had two shiny round bracelets connected by a short piece of chain. My eyes travelled from one bracelet, down along the chain, which hung to the hem of her dress, then back up to the other bracelet. I moved as in a dream, placing the wine bottle on the table, then taking one of Sam’s hands and raising it to my lips. I kissed the back of her hand.

The bracelets were slightly heavy, solid steel. The sort of thing one might find in a hardware store. The chain link was welded to the ring at each end and polished smooth. The rings fit close to her wrists and I saw that they might be hard to get on over her hands. Or off. I took the chain in my hands possessively and looked up into Sam’s eyes.

“Does it please master?” Sam asked me.

I was stunned. “Master is very pleased,” I managed. I lifted the chain up high, pulling her hands up over her head. I stroked her nipples through the thin fabric of her outfit. Sam closed her eyes and moaned slightly and I could tell it was not just from my stimulation of her nipples. She tilted her head up and looked at her arms, her bracelets, her shackles, and the chain, held firmly in my grasp. I lowered her hands until they were in front of her face, then released the chain to let it drop. I stepped away.

“Tell me about these, Sam. I want to know. Where did you get them?”

I sat at her table and listened. Sam said she had bought the rings a few years ago at a marine supply store.

“I need to use soap to get them on,” she said. “And it sometimes hurts my hands a bit, but I don’t mind. Last year I got the idea to add the chain. I bought a piece, then took it and the bracelets to a shop to get them welded. I told the guy it was for my easel, to hold the back leg together and I tried hard not to show my embarrassment. I think he guessed what it was really for.”

Sam had knelt at my feet as she talked, and her hands were on my legs. I felt her chain with my fingers and noticed a bit of wear in the links. I have a piece of chain at home, with wear marks like that. My wife used to like her feet chained together at night.

“You wear this every night, don’t you?” I softly asked her.

Sam looked up. “Not every night.” Then more quietly, “Most nights, yes.”

A big pot of water was bubbling on the stove, distracting my host.

“Go,” I told her. “Prepare my feast.”

Samantha stood and went to the stove. I watched her as she worked, holding the chain in one hand so that it wouldn’t get in her way. When she did let her chain clank on a pot or a plate, she would look at me, a bit abashed at her clumsiness. Mostly, she managed as one would when used to such an encumbrance. Eventually I stood and, over her protests, I helped out a bit, setting the table and opening the wine, cutting the garlic bread.

We soon were seated before a delicious meal. I poured the wine and watched Sam raise her glass without dipping her chain in her plate. After the dinner, Sam put the plates and cutlery in the dishwasher and I watched her wash out the two pots, her chain rattling around inside them. She had a cake for dessert, she told me, but my cock couldn’t wait any longer. I took her chain in my hand to lead her to her bedroom.

Samantha took off her chain belt and undid the clip at the top of her dress. The material spiralled off her and fell to the floor. She was instantly naked, as was I a moment later. In her current condition, an important avenue of pleasure was closed off, the white string hanging from her pussy the only evidence, but there were other ways. Anal was hinted at, and I sensed a quiet relief in Sam’s expression when I respectfully declined. I’ve tried that street a couple of times before, but it never seemed to live up to its glowing reputation as portrayed in stories. Sam stretched out on top of me, her chain trapped between our bellies, her hands at her sides. After a few minutes, she raised herself up and reached underneath to position my cock between her legs.

Sam started a slow up and down motion with her hips, stroking my hard cock against the soft warmth of her pussy. I shifted her up a bit to pull her wrist chain up and over her head, bringing her hands up around her ears, holding the chain at the back of her neck. Her hands fluttered uselessly as her hip movements became more energetic and her breasts pressed hard against my chest. It didn’t take long at all before I felt her tense, squeezing my cock tightly between her thighs, and cum, writhing wildly against me, moaning loud in my ear. I held her tight as she came down from her orgasm, then I released her chain to stroke my hands down her back and bum.

Her hands cradled my head gently as she made cooing noises in my ear, then she lifted herself up to kneel between my legs. She took my cock in her hands and began to lovingly stroke it while her chain rattled upon my tummy. I watched Sam stare lovingly and hungrily at my cock as it twitched in her hands. She bent down to reverently kiss the tip and we locked eyes for a moment. “Sweet little one,” I murmured as I scratched her head tenderly. Sam opened her mouth to take me in, sliding her lips down my shaft until she hit bottom with the head lodged in her throat. I felt her muscles working as she attempted to swallow me. I settled back into the pillow and moaned my pleasure.

She began to bob her head up and down on me, slowly at first, sucking in my length all the way, then letting it slide out, teasingly holding just the tip between her lips while running her tongue around it. Then more urgently, allowing her teeth to gently scrape along me at times, which felt not painful at all. I reached down with both hands to hold her chain in a firm grasp. My hips began to buck up, trying to get my entire being into that tiny cavern of pure pleasure. I could feel it building from somewhere deep inside me, at my core. Samantha’s mouth was sending massive shockwaves straight through to my brain. My body started to tense as I fought to keep my breathing regular. In a panting voice, I informed Sam that I was about to cum. Quite unnecessarily, though; it would be obvious to anyone what was about to happen in another few seconds.

Tingling at the base of my brain started to form substance, began its journey down my spine, gathering me up with it. Samantha took me deep as I started to cum. I squeezed the chain between her wrists hard, feeling the strength of the steel that imprisoned the girl’s hands. My breathing slowed to a deep steady rhythm as my cum burst forth, a white-hot jet blasting into her. My legs came up to wrap around her body as another jet of cum shot into her. Again my cock pulsed, my mind completely caught up in rapturous affection for my beautiful Samantha. Another, weaker shot, and I collapsed into the softness of her bed, totally spent, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Sam moved to disentangle herself from me. My hands spasmed, releasing her chain, and she snuggled close to my side to wait for me to return from beyond.

I was floating weightless on a warm sea. Twilight, the sun just past the horizon, washing everything in shades of red and gold. I could hear the waves crashing on the rocky shore. I turned my head to look, focused my eyes on something against a tall rock. A naked girl, it seemed; her long windswept hair across her face and the stone. Her hands were high over her head. She was chained to the rock by heavy looking shackles around her delicate wrists. She looked up towards the cliff, and my eyes followed her gaze to a gap in the rocks. A shadow moved. Suddenly, with a mighty roar, the beast appeared. As she twisted her hands in the unyielding chains, the girl screamed, a long horrified wail.

I felt myself jump, I heard myself yell. I looked sheepishly into Sam’s startled eyes.

“Was I asleep?” I asked.

“For a few minutes, Master,” she answered.

I got my breathing back under control, my heart slowed its hammering. I told Sam of the dream I’d had, the scene from the drawing she gave to me yesterday.

“I was there, watching from off shore. The dragon came, and that’s when I woke.”

“The drawing pleases Master?”

I looked at her. “Yes I like it. It seems to remind me of a scene in a movie I’d seen before. The girl, chained just like that. A monster of some sort, I think.”

We held each other for a while longer and I examined Sam’s bracelets closer. They were indeed too small to allow her hands to slip through easily. I liked it and I told her so again. I got up to pull on my shorts. Sam went to pick up her slave robe and asked if I would put it on her, since with her hands chained it was difficult to wrap it around herself. I helped her to dress, groping and hugging her as I went, then she went to put the coffee on. We had coffee and cake in her living room while we watched the news on her television. It was late, but I was not eager to leave.

“Master?” a sweet voice asked.

“Mmmm?”

“Would you stay here tonight with me?”

Hands in chains upon my chest. Soft, expectant eyes looking up at me. How could I refuse? I slept soundly that night in Samantha’s bed, her soft, warm body pressed close to mine.

Sam spent the night at my place after we went out for dinner on Saturday night and saw a comedy show at a small theatre downtown. The comedian’s routine was defiantly geared for an adult audience and often uproariously funny. That night her period had finished enough so we could finally have sex again, which we did, and more than once. I’d asked her to bring her bracelets with the chain, and I watched as she soaped up her hands and pushed the steel rings over them. I used a lock to attach her chain to the headboard of my bed and that was how she stayed all that night and well into Sunday morning. With her hands locked above her head, she was defenceless against my tickling and stroking her most intimate areas until she exploded in wondrous orgasm time after time. When I’d tired of that, I suddenly fell upon her luscious body and pushed myself into her until my lust was sated in a great flood of release. We both had a lovely time.

On Sunday, I got Samantha to help me set up the tent in the back yard. I have a smaller one, which is easy for me to put up, but I also had a larger tent that has a screened-in front section that you can sit in if the bugs are bad. At this time of the year, I expected the bugs to be bad. Two people were required to set it up, but it was nice and roomy inside. You could easily stand up in it. I pulled it out from storage in the basement, and I wanted to be sure it had survived being unused for so long. As we worked to put the tent up, I could see Sam’s excitement grow from seeing the reality of our impending trip on the following weekend. I had insisted that Sam leave her shackles on, so she was a little awkward helping me, but she managed. She had worn a short skirt and a tube top that she could put on with her hands chained. She had brought along a sweater to wear in the evening.

When it was time for me to take her home, I asked her to keep her shackles on. I said that she could hold her sweater in such a way to cover her hands when we got to her apartment. She looked at me for a moment, then smiled such a wicked smile I was touched. This was probably the first time she would be so bold as to wear such an obvious bondage item out in public.

As I drove her home, I asked if I needed to pick up anything for her like bread or milk. She said no. I told her then to keep her chain on for the rest of the day and all that night. She agreed without hesitation. I watched her walk across the lot behind her building, her sweater clasped in her hands in front of her. At the door, she fished her key from her pocket. She turned to look around her, then looked at me. Sam brought her hand from under her sweater and waved at me, the ring around her wrist and the chain clearly visible. I waved back. She put the key in the door and disappeared.

The following week, I was busy finishing up stuff at work and getting my camping gear ready. I repaired a few spots on the tent, and took it down on Tuesday night, just before it began to rain. I packed everything up, ready to go. Wednesday evening, I took Sam out for dinner and we made love again in her bed afterwards. She packed a bag for the trip that I took home with me. The next evening, I loaded all the crap into the truck, tied the canoe on top, and we were ready to roll. I asked Sam to meet me at the subway station at the north end of the city Friday morning to save a little time. I packed up the cooler with food, and picked her up there at eight in the morning. Shortly after, we were cruising through the countryside, the sun bright, radio on, a glorious day.

We stopped at a burger joint along the way for an early lunch, then pressed on to arrive at the western gate of the park a little before noon. A little over half an hour later, and I turned off the road into the campground. Silence descended like a thick shroud when I stopped at the gate and switched off the motor. A few birds, gentle rustling of leaves in the trees; I could feel the tension flow out from me. I went into the office to check in and pick up the park information newspaper. I’d paid by card when I had booked the site, so it was only a moment before I was moving slowly along the road, searching for our spot. I backed in the Jeep, then killed the engine for good. Sunlight sparkled through the trees where a little path at the back of the site led a short way to the lake. After untying the canoe, Sam helped me carry it down to the water. The shoreline was soft sand and appeared to be shallow for a ways out. A perfect spot. The site itself was reasonably far from its neighbours, separated by some brush amongst the trees.

I try to get at least one week camping in each year, and this time I had a pretty companion to share the experience with me. Opening the back of the truck, we prepared to set up camp. My routine is simple, first the lawn chair, this time two of them. Then I set up the stove and poured some water into the kettle for it to boil.

“Now,” I told Samantha, “We wait for the coffee.”

Camping requires a certain mental state. I found the quicker you gain that state of mind, the better. I could see Sam fidgeting in her chair, eager to do something, and I put my hand on her arm, looked at her, and smiled. She began to calm. When the water was ready, I got out the kitchen basket and fixed us two cups.

“Next,” I told her, “we drink the coffee.”

I sipped at the drink while staring out at the lake through the trees. Sounds, seemingly from far away, could be heard. Children playing at the beach, a rattle of plates, someone fixing lunch. A car door closing. Birds. No steady din of cars or planes. After about twenty minutes, I stood and stretched, looking around for a good spot for the tent. I went to the truck and pulled out the ground sheet, then spread it out. A small flurry of activity ensued as Sam and I laid out the tent, hammered in some pegs, and sorted out the poles. Then, a walk down to the beach.

We walked hand in hand along the road to the washrooms, then further along to the beach. I sat down on the grass at the edge of the sand with Sam cuddled close, letting the warm summer’s day infuse us with laziness. You could spot the people who had been here a week, or more. Lying on the sand or sitting in the shade. Kids out swimming or digging in the sand. A sort of serenity to them, at peace with themselves and the beauty of nature all around. Sam was still edgy, wanting to do something, anything. I turned to her.

“Close your eyes,” I said, “listen.”

She sat, straining to hear.

“I don’t hear anything,” she said. “Kids laughing, the waves on the sand.”

She sat for a few minutes longer, then opened her eyes and looked around. I pointed out a rocky island at one side of the lake, another to the right that you couldn’t really see because it blended in with the tree lined shore behind.

“There’s a river around the corner,” I said pointing to the right, “that goes a long way. We’ll do that one tomorrow. At the end of the lake,” I pointed straight across, east, “is the other river that passes another camp ground.”

I could finally feel Samantha beginning to let go, start to attain a little of that calmness I felt each time I came here. “It’s beautiful here,” she said.

A little while longer and I said, “let’s go.” We returned to the site to finish with the tent. I gave my rickety air pump to Sam and had her blow up the air mattress while I finished putting a tarp over the tent, and then I started to string up rope between the trees for another tarp over the table in case it decided to rain. I got the clothing bags into the tent, and after a nice groping session, we changed into bathing suits for a swim.

I got us towels, sunscreen, something to drink, and we headed for the beach. By this time, we were both hot and sweaty, but the lake was cool and ever so refreshing. You could walk out quite far before it got deep. After a long swim, we dried off, then I lovingly spread sunscreen over every inch of Sam’s exposed skin. She did me and we lay on the towels, relaxing, for the rest of the afternoon.

I was unsure if I should tell Sam my plans, or just drop it on her tomorrow. In the end, I decided to fill her in on the general idea. Quite often with a scene, the anticipation beforehand can make the difference between a good experience and a great one.

“Tomorrow we’ll get an early start,” I told her. "Early for me is nine or so. After breakfast, we’ll paddle the west river to the waterfall and spend some time there. There is a branch in the river that we’ll take on the way back that leads into a swamp. Kind of a funny place, you could get lost in there without a compass, but don’t worry, I have one. It’s a little hard to find, a bit of a tough slog to get into, and I’ve never seen anyone else bother to go there. The swampy part doesn’t lead on anywhere, just stops in a big area with low hills all around.

“When we get to the swamp, I’ll chain you.” I watched Sam’s expression change. Her eyes got wide for a moment, then a kind of dreamy expression came over her face as I went on. There were people around us, people walking nearby. I kept my voice low, sinister, as I told Sam what I was going to do to her.

“I remember a rocky area at the south end that might do. I hiked up the hill a few years back, there’s nothing there. I looked on the map before we left; no trails around that area. Should be nice and private. I’d like to chain you up to the cliff, like in the drawing you gave me, but I don’t know if that will work. I might have to use a tree, we’ll see. I’ll bring a small axe and I should be able to find some suitable sticks around, something thin and springy, birch or maple maybe. We’ll see what works best on that cute bum of yours.” I could see my talk having a visible effect on Samantha. She was breathing hard and her chest and face had a rosy glow, but not from the sun. A small grin pulled the corners of her mouth and her eyes had a far away look to them. I finished telling her my plan. “I expect that we will be there for a while, perhaps until it starts to get dark. I might leave you chained up there alone for a while. I picked up a nice toy for you last week, a rubber bit gag just like the pony girls have. Don’t want you yelling too loud and waking up the bears.”

I’d heard her draw in a breath at the mention of the gag. When I mentioned bears, she looked startled.

“What bears?” she asked.

“Well,” I explained, “this is bear country. This is where they live, in the woods.”

I thought I might have gone too far with the bear thing, Sam being from the city and all. I explained that bears don’t usually bother you if you don’t bother them first. I’d only ever seen one once, wandering through a campground in fact, and he seemed more intent on trying to look inconspicuous than wanting to eat me. She began to get agitated about being left alone and helpless. About getting beat with a stick however, she seemed fine. Go figure.

“I will leave you at some point,” I said, “but I’ll stay nearby. I’ll keep the axe with me if it will make you feel better. I could never let anything happen to you, Sam, you know that.”

She did know that, she told me, but I could still see a bit of worry in her face. I suggested a dip, so we splashed around in the water again, Sam staying close to me, and we touched each other under the water, out away from the other people. Sam pulled down my trunks a little and mounted me right out there, brushing aside her bikini bottoms and guiding me into her. But it was really obvious what we were doing and I stopped it, telling her we should save it for later.

Later came in fifteen minutes. We gathered up our stuff from the beach and headed back to the campsite. The place was starting to fill up now with people coming in for the start of the weekend. In the site next to us were four young women setting up their tent. I said to Sam they looked like they needed some help and I pretended to go over, but she held my arm tight and led me into our tent. I unrolled the sleeping bag on the mattress and spread a sheet over it. Before I’d finished, I had a naked girl climbing on my back. Sam pulled down my wet shorts and tossed them in the corner, then made a grab for my semi erect penis. She quickly had it hard and ready. She practically threw me down and raped me.

My lovely Samantha pushed me down on my back onto the sleeping bag and threw her leg over to straddle me. She was completely naked, no jewellery, except for her piercings, no bondage, just her. This aggressiveness I’d never seen in her. She had the most serene yet wicked look on her face as she guided my cock into her slick cunt and began to hammer her body up and down on me. It was great. With the increased activity in the campground, I didn’t need to worry at first about Sam making noise, but as her pounding became more frenzied, she started to vocalize her heat in yelps and louder moaning. I used the first thing that came to hand, her bikini bottoms, rolling them up, and packed the fabric into her open mouth. When she became aware of what I had done, she grinned and pushed the bottoms tighter into her own mouth, then let out a muffled yell as she renewed her efforts on my cock. I grabbed hold of her hips to pull myself up facing her, then wrapped my arms around her waist to hold us together. Her body was bouncing up and down, her wet hair flying all around us, and now her tits were rubbing on my chest with my hairs tickling her nipples. Her arms flew up around my shoulders, her cunt ground down on me, and we both came together in a quick, crashing orgasm that left me reeling with the intensity of it.

I eased back down to the mattress, pulling Samantha down with me, and we lay like that for a while, panting our breath in each other’s faces as we recovered. I saw on her face, as she began to become more aware, her previous predatory expression change to that of almost guilt, shame at her allowing herself to force herself on me like she had done. She moved herself up to allow my softened cock to slide out of her, grabbing a handy beach towel to catch the inevitable mess. I sat up to stroke her back and her hair. She knelt on the floor beside the bed, looking downwards, feeling, I thought, troubled.

My nature usually demands that I am the one in control of things, particularly things having to do with sex. That’s just the way I like it, the way I am wired, I guess. But there have been times where I allowed my control to slide, to let myself be taken over somewhat with, I suppose, feelings of submissiveness. Just to lay back and have another do it to me, not having to think, but simply savour the pleasures being given to me. I had enjoyed letting Sam gain the upper hand just now, having her force the issue, so to speak. Now, as I watched her try to figure out what to say, her submissive nature at war with what had just occurred, what she had done, I knew I had to regain my position and handle this situation. I had to, and I felt that Sam expected me to. I roused myself to start pulling on my shorts.

“Get dressed, Sam,” I said in a gentle but firm manner. “Short skirt and tube top only.”

I left the tent, buckling my belt and zipping up as I went, and stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight. The campground was busy now, the noises of cars and people setting up their camp would continue past nightfall. I opened the back of the Jeep to get the water jug, then went down the road until I came to a tap. Along the way, and while I was filling the jug, I nodded to people passing by, saying hi and such, nice weather. I wondered if any of them guessed what I had been doing not ten minutes ago.

With the jug filled, I returned to our site to see Samantha standing outside the tent, looking lost. I heaved the water jug onto the picnic table, then took the kettle to put some water in it. Yes, it’s coffee time. I smiled at her and I lit the stove to heat the water. I sat at the table, motioning to Sam to join me. She looked nice, fragile in a way, her bare legs and feet, her bare tummy and arms, hair somewhat in disarray. She sat near me looking down at the ground. I let her speak first and I didn’t have to wait long for it.

“Master, I’m sorry for letting myself get carried away just now. When you told me what you had in mind for tomorrow, I just got so hot that I had to have you.”

“I suppose I’ll have to punish you,” I told her. An image instantly flashed in my mind and I smiled.

Sam looked up at me. “You’re not angry?” she asked.

One look at her face and I had to relent.

“No,” I told her. “I want you to enjoy our time up here. I’m pleased that you found my plans for tomorrow to your satisfaction.”

I got up to prepare the coffee, making two cups after the water had boiled. I handed Sam hers, then sat near her again.

“After dinner we’ll go for a boat ride across the lake,” I said. “There’s a bike trail that we can walk along, and another path to a different lake. Maybe we’ll find a quiet spot for your punishment.”

She looked up at me in surprise. Apparently, I had not been kidding earlier, and I watched her begin to fall back into her subbie state, imagining what form of punishment I had in mind. It soon felt like dinnertime and the smells of cooking coming from around us seemed to confirm it. I put the frying pan on to heat, arranged some things on the table, and sat to prepare our dinner. On a piece of firewood, I cut up some potatoes and onions into thin slices along with a few other vegetables. The potatoes went into the pan first with a little butter. I talked as I worked.

“Have you ever been hit with a cane?” I asked. Sam shook her head, no, and I went on. “Me neither. I’ve been told it can be rather painful, though. You wouldn’t think it, but a thin springy one can hurt worse than a thicker, stiff one.”

I gave the potato slices a stir and went on. “We’ll try it later and see how it goes, O.K.?”

Sam looked up dreamy eyed. “Yes, sir.”

Some sliced chicken breast went into the pan with a dash of hot sauce. Several minutes later, I added the rest of the vegetables, green peppers, fresh yellow beans, and a sprinkle of salt and pepper. Two cut up tomatoes and some fresh bought bread, along with a nice bottle of dry red wine, completed the meal. After supper, Sam washed the dishes while I put things away, then I gathered up some stuff for the boat ride. We made a trip to the washrooms, then we set out.

My canoe has a rather flat bottom with a ridge along the length and two shorter ones on each side along the bottom. While not as easily manoeuvrable as some I’ve tried, the trade-off of better stability is one that I prefer. Alone, I can lean it over on its side to bring more of the bottom out of the water making the paddling easier. Sam was a little nervous at first, until, while still in the shallow water, I showed her how far the boat could lean before it started to feel tippy.

It must have been around six when we set out, with still a good three or four hours of light left. I set an unhurried rhythm telling Sam to take it easy so our arms didn’t get too strained the first time out. There was no wind and the lake was almost as smooth as glass. I steered us around the island and we stopped along the rocky side to pull into a little bay and get out. Sitting on a rock with my lovely companion beside me, bare feet in the warm water, evening sunlight upon us, could it get any better?

There were others out on the lake, taking in an evening paddle, and we waved to several couples who passed by our rocky perch. After a while, we got back in the canoe to paddle across the narrow lake to the other side.

There was a small sandy clearing that was an access point to the bike trail and a portage trail to another lake. I stepped out into the water, then began to rummage through the bag I’d brought along. Sam watched me pull out a length of chain, which I put into my pocket, two small padlocks that went into the other pocket, and my small hatchet, which I stuck under my belt in back. I tied off the boat and handed Sam a towel to carry, and we put on running shoes for the walk through the forest. I used a can of bug spray to apply some on us both so we wouldn’t be eaten too badly, then I held her hand to help her up the steep embankment to the trail.

The bike trail used to be a railway line. The tracks had long been removed and, more recently, bridges had been built to replace the original ones that had fallen down or were taken away. The line runs the length of the park, its flat surface and gentle grades making it ideal for cyclists to travel on. A few people on bikes passed us as we walked the short distance to the other trail. I turned onto this trail, and after only a few minutes walk, we were alone, surrounded by thick forest.

The trail was uphill. I spotted something that looked like a passable path leading to a small rocky cliff face and turned off, pulling Samantha along with me. After I was sure we could get to where I thought was a good spot, I stopped and turned to her.

“Put out your hands, Samantha,” I said as I pulled the chain from my pocket.

I had brought two locks but only one key, and I made sure I had the right lock before I wrapped the chain around her crossed wrists and clicked the lock closed. The key for this lock was back at camp, in the truck. When I told her this, her eyes got wide for a moment as it dawned on her that she was now stuck with her hands chained together in front until we got back to the camp site. She looked nervous at first but then a small grin began to play at the corners of her mouth. The chain was long enough that it hung almost to the ground when Sam lowered her hands. I took up the end in my hand and began to lead her through the forest again.

There’s never a shortage of sticks in the woods, but I needed a special one. Twice, as we walked, I stopped to pull the axe from my belt and cut a branch off a bush or a tree, ones that were nice and straight, fairly even in thickness along the length. I used the sharp axe to nip off any side shoots and shave off some of the bark. After I finished with one, I gave it to Samantha to hold between her bound hands while I worked up another. When we reached the small cliff, we walked along the base until I spied a nice niche that even had the perfect tree growing partially imbedded in the rock face.

“Wait here,” I told her.

I went to the tree and shook it, then climbed up the rocks a bit until I was sure there was nothing loose that might fall later on. I asked Sam to come over to the tree. Taking the end of her chain, I pulled her hands up just a bit over her head, then looped the chain around a thick branch and clicked the other lock closed, the one that I had the key for.

Since we’d left the boat, Sam had been very quiet, and when I’d chained her hands, I heard her let out a little moan as the lock clicked closed. After I’d handed her that first stick to carry, I glanced back a couple of times to see her feeling the smooth wood and perhaps wondering how it would feel against her bum.

I watched her now as she tugged on the chain, put her weight on it, and I saw it in her eyes as the reality of her situation came to her, that she was chained to a tree out in the wilderness, completely at my mercy. I undid the belt of her skirt and unbuttoned the buttons to let it drop to her feet. As she stepped out of the skirt, I pulled her sneakers off too, then I pulled her stretchy tube top down over her hips and down her legs to the ground.

As per my previous orders, she had on no panties. While I was bent down, I caught a whiff of her heady musk and breathed deep of it. I gave her pussy a squeeze and felt her heat, the wetness there signalling her readiness for what was to come. I gathered up all her clothes and placed them on a rock nearby, then returned to stand before her and picked one of my sticks off the ground. The thin one. I set my voice in a low, ominous tone.

“Samantha,” I began the incantation, “for allowing your wanton lust to get the better of you and for forcing yourself upon your master with no regard for his feelings or wishes, you will receive ten lashes with the cane upon your pretty little bum.”

I thought I did well getting through that speech without bursting out laughing. I could see Sam also trying not to smile.

“I haven’t brought your gag,” I told her, “so I don’t want to hear you yelling, O.K.? If I have to use leaves and junk to gag you, it won’t be pleasant.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

I took a position behind her and told her to keep still. Before she even knew what happened, I laid on six quick strokes, three on each cheek. Not all that hard, mind you, but firm enough to leave nice reddened marks, nicely spaced I might add, except for the last two where Sam had begun jumping around as the pain started to register in her brain.

“Ow, Ow, Ow!” she exclaimed as she hopped from one foot to the other. She pulled hard on her chain to try to bring her hands down to rub her stinging bottom, but of course that was impossible, and she only succeeded in shaking the tree a little. A few leaves fluttered down as she strove to sooth her tender bum, and she gave me a highly erotic display of a naked young girl struggling to free herself from being chained to a tree.

Her shock and surprise soon waned, and she began to accept the pain and settle down. I checked the chain around her wrists and adjusted it as much as I could to give her a bit better comfort. Then I traded the thin stick for the thicker one, holding it before her face. ‘Should I or shouldn’t I?’ I thought to myself. Samantha seemed O.K. with this so far, so I did it. I held the switch to her lips. “Kiss,” I said to her.

She did. Sam had glued her eyes to the stick when I’d presented it before her, and as I moved it closer to her lips, she tilted her head up to gently plant a little kiss on it. She then locked eyes with me and smiled so sweetly that my heart almost melted. I had to turn away to step behind her or I would have become caught up in the power of her lusty desire.

Sam planted her feet apart slightly and bent at her waist as much as the chain would allow, presenting herself as a nice target for me. I could see her pussy displayed nicely, the lips swollen with her arousal, her two rings shiny in the evening sunlight that was filtering through the trees. Sam wiggled her bum to shake me from my reverie. I paused just a moment longer, then I swung.

I put a bit more snap into this one, catching her ass cheek around mid point, between the upper two marks. Sam let out a low grunt as her bum absorbed the force of the stroke. Just a short pause to let her settle, and then another stroke, same place, other cheek, the sharp sound seemingly loud in the silent forest. I looked around, cocked an ear, but I heard no one. If anyone happened to blunder along the trail, I felt confident I would hear them well before they saw us in our rocky shelter.

I gave Sam her two final strokes, making her groan rather loudly on the last and slump down slightly, held up by her chained wrists. I dropped the stick to put my arm around her waist to help support her and take her weight off the chain. The tan lines of her bikini bottom had given me a nice canvas to work with, and there were only two places where I had coloured over the line. I held her tightly and nuzzled her neck as she quickly recovered. When she could stand by herself, I took the key from my pocket to unlock her from the tree. I sat with my back to the tree and Sam lay across my lap while I gently traced her whip marks with a finger. Her ass was burning hot. A few of the lines felt raised slightly and I felt Sam twitch a bit when I touched her there.

“Are you all right, Samantha?” I asked.

She answered after only a moment. “Yes, sir, I’m fine.”

“No really, are you O.K.?” I asked again.

In answer, Sam rose up off my legs to press her body against me, putting her arms around my head and pressing her lips to mine in a passionate kiss. I shifted around a bit beneath her; there was a rock or something digging in my ass, then I held her tightly to me as our tongues danced together. We broke apart after a long while to just cuddle beneath our tree. I checked her hands again and shifted the chain around a little, then it was time to go. I had to help Sam to get her clothes back on, then we set out.

I carried the two sticks and held on to the end of Sam’s chain while she followed behind me, until we reached the trail again. I then gave her the chain to hold and I draped the towel over her wrists. That way, if anyone came along, it wouldn’t look like I had a pretty girl chained up in the woods. However we made the canoe without seeing anyone, and after Sam was comfortable, I pushed the boat out and stepped in. Samantha found kneeling in the bottom preferable to sitting on the seat. I paddled while she enjoyed the view.

It was just beginning to get dark as we arrived back at our site. I stepped out into the water to pull the boat closer to the shore before Sam got out. There was a moment where she dropped her chain and it clattered loudly against the side of the canoe, but there was no one nearby to notice. I walked her into our tent, then went to the truck to get her key.

After I unlocked her hands, I saw there were a few red marks on her wrists that would probably result in some bruising, but Sam said that it was worth it and seemed quite pleased with her session in the woods. A little taste of things to come that had gone very nicely, I thought. I had her strip and I applied some of my soothing witch hazel skin lotion to the marks on her bum. I found that it was also good for bug bites, which we both had a few of. Sam wanted a shower, but I said to wait, that we’d take a quick wash in the lake before bed. I left her in the tent to get dressed while I made us a pot of tea.

Although it was still hot outside, what’s camping without a campfire? I chopped up some pieces of scrap wood from a box full that I’d brought and built a small fire in the fire pit. I lit the lantern and then found us a package of biscuits while Samantha made the tea. Then we sat around the fire to relax and talk.

“How’s your bum?” I asked. “Sore?”

“A little,” she said. “That was nice, back there. I felt so exposed out in the open like that.”

“I would have stopped if I heard someone coming.”

“I know you would have. Are you still going to do that to me tomorrow?” she asked.

“Of course,” I answered. “Something like that. For longer perhaps, a little more involved. We’ll see.”

“Would you make love to me afterwards?”

“In a little while, sure.” I knew what she really meant.

“No,” she said. “Yes, I mean later, but tomorrow too, out in the woods. Could we…”

“Sure, Sam. I’d planned to.”

We got up to take a walk around the campground and stop at the washrooms. There were still people setting up their tents and trailers by the light of their car headlights. The place was full, not an empty site to be had. Folks sitting around the fire, drinking, laughing, music playing softly. Great. We arrived back at our site and finished off the tea while I tuned in the weather report on my little radio. We listened to some news reports from another planet far removed from the safe and peaceful reality of here.

The campground began to quiet down later on, signalling bedtime. I asked Sam if she had her bracelets with the chain with her and she said yes, so I asked her to get them. I got a couple of towels and a bar of soap while Sam pinned up her hair, and after I turned off the lantern, we headed towards the lake behind our site.

It was pitch dark, no moon, just a ton of stars over our heads. I watched Sam soap up her hands to slide her bracelets on and then we washed each other in the cool lake water. We sat naked in the water afterwards, for a long while, just holding each other and staring up at the heavens. Sam said she’d never seen so many stars before. The sight of the night sky up here, so far away from the glare of city lights, never fails to humble me, makes our world seem so insignificant in such a vast universe.

After we dried off, I gathered up our clothes and Sam held her chain so as it wouldn’t tinkle while we padded naked along the little path to our tent. We both took a piss on some bushes, then, after brushing the dirt off our feet, we lay down in the softness of our bed with just a sheet covering us, since it was still quite warm. Cuddling close together, we drifted off to sleep.

[part2]

We didn’t hit the water until closer to ten the next morning. Although I had wakened around seven or so, Samantha’s soft warm body was just too much temptation for me, and I first spent long minutes just watching her sleep before my hands began to gently trace along those luscious curves and valleys that her nude form presented to me. Several times, as my fingers brushed lightly over a nipple or dipped into her naval, she would sigh softly in her sleep and the corners of her mouth would curl in a smile.

When I could no longer stand the never-ending cuteness of her, I pushed my hand between her thighs and pressed against her sex, feeling her two rings pressing back against the edge of my hand. With my other hand, I massaged her lower back where she had two little dimples just above her hipbones. It was then she woke to see me smiling at her.

“I forgot to fuck you last night,” I said.

I rolled her onto her back and I lay on top of her, taking my hard cock in my hand and rubbing it up and down in her slit until she was nice and wet and was shifting her ass around underneath me. Her hands were grabbing at my head soon after to try to pull me into her. I reached over to my bag to take out a lock, then I placed her chain under her head and around her neck. Moving her hands close together under her chin, there was enough length in the chain that I could slip the shackle of the lock through her two bracelets and click it closed, trapping her hands at the sides of her head with her hair under the chain. I lifted myself up a little to get a better view.

Sam looked almost comical with her elbows sticking up and her hands fastened uselessly underneath her face. Her thick mass of hair was pressed close by the chain to frame her head. Her need was becoming urgent, which she demonstrated by bringing up her feet to try to position my ass closer to her so I could enter her. I guided my cock to push into her slick tunnel of delight. Sam uttered a low contented groan as I hit bottom, her hands grasping air, straining to touch me. I held my position for several long minutes, watching her become more and more aroused until neither of us could stand it any longer, and then I began to pump forcefully in and out of her tight, wet vagina.

When she began to make too much noise, I lowered my body down to lock my mouth over hers in an enthusiastic kiss, effectively stifling her squeals of delight with my tongue. We fucked this way for what seemed like a long time before her second orgasm triggered mine with her cunt muscles contracting and tightening around my cock and feeling like a satiny smooth gloved hand squeezing and milking every last drop of fluid from my body. God, I loved screwing this girl.

I managed to grab a handy towel to wipe myself as I rolled off her, stuffing the other end between her legs. Despite the effort, there still ended up a big wet spot on the sheet. The air inside the tent was hot and reeked of sex. We lay for several more minutes, gasping and panting from our early morning exertions, before I found the key to unlock her hands.

With an enormous effort of will, I got myself up off the bed to make a start on the day. While I was getting dressed, Samantha pulled a dress from her bag to show me. She held it up and I saw it was a short sleeveless light blue sundress, with over the shoulder straps that buttoned to the front. I asked her to try it on, so she gathered the material up and put it over her head, then smoothed the dress down her body. With her bracelets and the chain, it was a bit awkward for her to get the straps from her back to over her shoulders, but she soon had them buttoned and stood before me, hands still in chains, fully dressed.

“It’s perfect,” I told her. “Wear it today. No shoes, no underwear, but put your bikini on underneath later on before we go. You look really nice, Sam,” I added.

“Thank you sir,” she said. “May I take my bracelets off now?”

“After breakfast,” I said. “Now let’s get cracking.”

The big washrooms on the hill had running water and showers, even washers and dryers, but there were also outhouse type toilets scattered around, one just at the end of our road, set in amongst the trees. Most people didn’t bother with them because of the smell, preferring the cleaner big washrooms, but they were good if you couldn’t wait or didn’t want to walk so far. Or if you didn’t want to be seen by a lot of people.

I handed a towel to Sam, telling her to hold it around her hands, then we set off down the road to the toilet. I could tell Sam was a little nervous at first, clutching the towel and her chain tightly in front of her, and we did run into a couple people along the way, but we just said hi and kept on walking. Just two people who had recently woken up and heading for the can. Sam went into the ladies and I, the other, took a piss, then waited outside for her. I did hear her chain clank on the seat or something, but she finished and we walked back to our site.

Our little clearing in the trees was our home, for now, and mostly campers respected that. You wouldn’t barge into someone’s kitchen uninvited. As I got out the food and stuff from the Jeep, Samantha stayed near the other side of the table trying to hide the fact her hands were chained in shackles from passers-by on the road. While I cooked us up some bacon and eggs, I did see a couple people seem to do a double take when they glanced over, but I think it was more Samantha’s beauty that attracted the eye than the bracelets and chain shining bright in the morning light, which she was keeping pretty much out of sight anyway.

We were soon seated before a nice pile of bacon and fried eggs, bread and cheese, orange juice, and lots of strong coffee to wash it all down. I helped Sam serve herself so she wouldn’t have to reach and show off or rattle her chain too much. After we’d finished eating, I gathered up the plates and stuff, handed her the dish soap, and said she could take off her bracelets and then do the dishes. Lovely to look at and so handy to have along. Sam was smiling a lot as she worked, pleased with herself for passing yet another test of her willingness to submit to whatever form of perversion came to my mind.

I started to gather up all the things we would need for our outing and carry them down to the canoe. I’d baked a bannock, which is like a big bran muffin with raisins and chocolate chips in it, and I cut off some slices, spread a little butter on them, and wrapped them in foil. A few fresh peaches, a couple cans of pop, and that would do for lunch. Some packaged pastries, a bunch of cookies, and my canteen of water for a snack. I expected we’d be back here for a late dinner at some point in the evening.

From the bottom of my clothes bag, I pulled out the bit gag I’d bought for Sam. I’d actually found this last year at a sex store downtown, and from the moment I had lain eyes on it, although there was no one in my life at that point to use it on, I knew that I had to have it for my collection. It was black rubber in the shape of a dog bone with two steel rings through the ends and a leather strap.

The reason it had caught my fancy is that it was quite stiff, and upon closer examination, I discovered that the rubber had been moulded around a thin steel bar, the rings passing through holes in the rubber and the steel as well. Held tight in one’s mouth by a chain and a lock, the device would be almost impossible to remove, short of sawing through the chain. The leather strap and buckle would do for now, though.

I added some chains, three locks for which I left the keys in my bag, and on the way to the boat, I picked up Sam’s bracelets from the table where she’d left them. I told her sunscreen should make a slippery enough substance for her to get them on later.

We made a trip to the washrooms to clean up and stuff, then we hit the water, a bit later than I’d planned, but the sky was clear and the day gloriously hot. I knew it was about a leisurely three-hour paddle to the falls, and with Samantha along to help, we could set an easy pace. From our site, we paddled around our end of the lake and found the mouth of the river. Again, upon entering the river, in only a short time we found ourselves totally alone with only the sounds of nature around us. Actually, we did meet up with several people in canoes coming or going along the river and after a few pleasantries were exchanged, we each drifted off our separate ways.

We stopped where the new bridge was built for the bike path, an orange painted steel and wood structure to save the bikers from wading across the river as I’d seen them do before, cursing at having to get their feet wet, holding their bikes up out of the water. There used to be rocks in the river here and it was difficult to get through by boat, but now the park workers had removed a lot of them and we could paddle under the bridge without having to get out and push. We stopped for a swim, Sam stripping off her dress and I, my tee shirt. I could see on Sam’s bum a couple of marks from her whipping last night peeking past her bikini bottom, but it simply looked more like marks from the canoe seat, or from something else. After applying more sunscreen, we pressed on.

We had to stop again and get out so I could pull the boat up over a beaver dam, our bare feet sinking in the gooey ooze the industrious creatures had used to plug between the jumble of branches and trees that made up the dam. Paddling on past the dam, I pointed out to Sam the rounded piles of brush that were the beaver’s dens. I noted where the river that we would take on the way back joined our stream, and pointed it out to her. We encountered one more dam along the way, this one much bigger now than last time I was here. The little buggers had been busy, and it was a bit of a struggle to get us past it.

After many more twists and turns in the river, the roar from the waterfall began to reach us. Around the last bend, the vista opened before us. Well, it’s not a big falls, but the river flowed over the pinkish coloured rock in a twisting fashion, creating a rather spectacular panorama. There were several people about, in the water or sunning on the rocks. This little slice of heaven is located at the crossroads of the river, a hiking trail, and the bike trail. A bridge stretched over the falls for people to walk across, and there were toilets in the woods on the other side.

After we got out, I tied the boat to a bush, then Sam and I went exploring. At the top was another big pool, and after I made sure Samantha knew the rock might be slippery, we waded into the fast moving current at the start of the falls. We spent a good three hours in the area. I’d brought along a watch so I knew. Sam helped me carry the canoe up the path to the pool at the head of the falls, and we lay on the rocks in the sun, swam in the water when it got too hot, then lay on the rocks some more. After a snack, we set out again to travel a little farther up the river.

Just a bit past the falls is what was left of one of the old railway bridges. Huge square blocks of grey stone had been used to shore up the riverbanks, and the ominous looking structures towered over us in our tiny boat. The wooden beams, or perhaps steel, of the bridge was no longer there, salvaged when the tracks were torn up, but the stone abutments still stood proud, a testament to the engineers of days gone by.

A little past the bridge and we stopped at another waterfall, this one not so spectacular as the last, just a long area of grey rock where the river tumbled down and around the stones. We took our lunch along a trail that led around the rapids and stopped to eat on a hilltop overlooking a marshy area where the river continued.

“Is this the swamp?” Samantha asked me.

“It’s a swamp,” I answered, “but not the one we’ll visit later.”

“It’s really beautiful up here. Thanks for bringing me.”

“Thank you for coming, Sam. I’m pleased that I could share it with you. I always like places like this, wide-open, quiet. It’s such a contrast from work, the crowds of the city. I think it would get boring after a while though. I’d miss the bustle of city life, things to do, but it makes a nice break, don’t you think?”

“I grew up on a small farm near a little town in Manitoba,” Sam told me. “The open spaces were nice when I was a kid, but when I moved to Toronto, with the excitement and the crowds, I thought I’d gone to Heaven. So much to do and see there. But seeing your house and the land around it, and now coming up here where there’s no noise and bustling crowds, the beautiful land all around, I’m starting to appreciate a bit more my parents peaceful little farm.”

“It’s nice now in the summer,” I said, “but when it’s all under eight feet of snow, there’s not much to do around here. You could own a store or rent rooms to tourists, but then you work all summer to make enough money to travel someplace warm in the winter. There’s not a lot of nightlife in the towns around here. Even if you had enough money that you didn’t have to work, I think you could run out of things to do pretty quickly.”

“I guess,” Sam replied.

We sat together on the grass, watching big fluffy white clouds track shadows across the marsh. Later on, I roused myself to gather up the remains of lunch and we headed back to the boat. A leisurely float, the flow of the river gently carrying us along, and we returned to the waterfalls for a short swim before carrying the boat around and setting it in the pool at the base of the falls.

It was much easier going back with the current taking us with it. The big beaver dam was less of a problem, as I just had to hold onto the rope and push the canoe down the side of the pile of sticks. Then we waded out and climbed back in. It was close to four in the afternoon when I spotted the gap in the bush where the other river was and we turned in. More of a stream really, deep enough where it was narrow, but in a few places where it widened, we had to get out and walk along the sandy bottom carrying the boat, the water barely ankle deep.

“Are you going to be all right doing this on the way back?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Am I?”

I grinned at her. “Maybe not, but we’ll manage somehow.”

The shallow spots weren’t that long, the ever-present beaver dams were not big either, and we made the beginning of the swamp in about an hour. I stopped in a shallow spot to hand Sam her bracelets and the sunscreen bottle. I told her to take off her bikini and to put her dress back on. After doing that, she rubbed some of the lotion over her hands and pushed the bracelets on over them. Then I grabbed the chain in the middle and pulled her to me for a nice big kiss.

I gave us both a spritz of bug repellent, and after climbing up over another beaver dam, we entered the marsh. Sam was somewhat awkward trying to paddle with her hands chained, but we were in no hurry now and I told her to relax, to just push when we needed to turn or something. Away from the dam, the water was still and calm. The unusual thing about this area was where there was open water, it was fairly deep, but the vegetation had formed sort of close islands all around, the roots of the plants and bushes keeping the soil in thick clumps so the sides going down in the water were steep. You could get a boat close to the islands, and if you were willing to scramble through the plants, you could climb up and have a good view over the big area. But from down in the canoe the water seemed to branch again and again, and you couldn’t really tell where you were, since the islands, some of which were rather large, blocked your view.

I knew from past explorations that there was a clearing of sorts at the far side that we could get to, and it overlooked the entire area. I set my compass down in the bottom of the boat and we began to work our way around the maze of islands. Except for the sounds of our paddles in the water, the tinkling of Sam’s chain, the buzz of insects, and the occasional screech of a bird, the swamp was dead silent. Clouds covered most of the sky now. The weather report had forecasted rain later on tonight, and I hoped it would hold off until we finished up here and got back to camp. At least without the sun it wasn’t so hot. When we got to what I figured was mid way, I drove the canoe between two clumps of plants to steady it, then asked Samantha to turn around and face me.

I took two short pieces of chain and a lock from a bag. I motioned to Sam to bring her feet closer to me and I lay one chain on her foot.

“I have three locks with me,” I told her, “and the keys are all back in the tent. I’d like to chain your feet together now, and once the lock is closed, that commits us to carry out the plan I told you about yesterday. Do you still want to go through with this?”

While I was speaking, I was putting the chains around each of Samantha’s ankles and hooking the ends through the lock. The two chains were long enough not to be tight around her ankles but too short to slip off over her heels. I held the open lock with my fingers while running my other hand up and down her leg. I could see a brief moment of indecision flicker in her eyes, fear at being helpless out here, fear of what would or could happen to her. In the end, I saw her smile, the thirst for adventure winning out over practicality.

Sam didn’t have to tell me, I saw her decision written large across her face when she looked up at me. I smiled and clicked the lock closed, that final sounding snap seemingly loud in the silent marsh. I lifted both her feet up to rest them on the center thwart, the lock hanging down and banging against it, then I bent down to lovingly plant little kisses on all ten of her sweet little toes. Then, after Samantha had settled back in front, I pushed off the bank and got us moving again.

I’d seen several areas along the way with of some kind of a plant growing in the water, some sort of reed or water grass. It had long, thick leaves and when we came upon a large bunch of it, I steered the boat into the middle and used my knife to cut some of the strands. Sam watched curiously as I took two of the stalks together and smacked them down on my bare leg a couple times. Then she got it. I stretched out to smack her bare arm with the stiff leaves.

“Ow!” she exclaimed. “That hurt!”

I smiled and continued cutting the stalks until I had ten of them, trimmed to all the same length, about two feet. I used a different part of the plant, a softer yet more fibrous stalk, to bind the bundle of leaves tightly together at the base and again a few inches up. I held the finished handicraft up for Samantha’s approval. A very passable flogger, I thought.

After taking a couple blind alleys and having to back track a bit, we finally rounded a bend and came upon the edge of the marsh where the little clearing was. The rocky hillside could be glimpsed through the trees. The boat bottomed out on the sandy shore and I stepped out, then pulled my end up over a fallen tree. Sam put her feet in the water and I helped her stand up, then told her to stay there while I went to have a look around, not that she could go very far. I hiked up the hill a little until I came to the rocks and looked around. The rock face of the cliff was mostly overgrown with plants, but there were several big boulders at the base. I went back to the boat and pulled it up onto the shore, then I untied the rope from the boat, got another lock, and went to Sam.

“I’d like to make a small adjustment to your bracelets,” I told her. I pushed her chain underneath one bracelet, then put the shackle of the lock through a link. I did the same with the other ring, then looped the lock through the chain link. Before I closed the lock, I looked at her and, seeing only a look of accepting trust, I clicked the lock closed. Now, with the chain through the rings taking up space, she could never slip them over her hands and her wrists were held closer together, only a couple inches apart.

I unbuttoned the straps of her dress, then gathered the material up to pull it over her head and off her arms. I folded the dress and placed it on the seat of the boat, putting a life jacket over it so it wouldn’t blow away if it got windy. Then I picked up my precious Samantha to carry her to shore and up into the woods.

Ever since we’d entered the marsh, I could see Samantha grow more accepting as the reality of the situation unfolded. I’d taken her the distance, from companion to owned creature, from a free person to now, a trussed up and helpless little animal being lugged through a deserted forest to her eventual slaughter. I could feel her tension as I carried her, hitched up over my shoulder, her chained hands dangling down my back, her chained feet bobbing before me. She’d kick her feet a bit or pull with her hands, the chains snapping taught, her limbs pinned in sturdy steel, and I’d hear her moan softly as her submission grew deeper. I slid a hand up her thigh to feel her pussy, hot, wet with her arousal, and I knew this was going to be good. My cock had been straining at the front of my swim trunks for a while now, eager to get on with it.

I came to the rocks and set Sam down on a patch of soft grass. She could barely focus her eyes at first, so deep was she into her role as a helpless little creature, and I just held her and stroked her for a while. She was constantly moving, shifting her legs, fidgeting with the bracelets and chain with her hands, trying to find some means of escape, of which there was none, and wouldn’t be for quite some time now. I held her hands tightly in mine.

“Samantha,” I called to her. “Samantha.”

Finally the glazed look left her eyes and she turned her face to me.

“It’ll be O.K,” I said to her.

She took a few deep breaths. “I’m all right. I just,” she began to twist her hands and shake her feet against the chains again, “oh, oh!” It only took a couple of light strokes of my finger to bring her off in an explosive orgasm that had her clutching tightly to my arm and thrashing her legs around. I wrapped my other arm around her ankles to hold her legs so she didn’t hurt herself in the chains and I let her ride it out. When she was done, I relaxed my grip on her and waited for her to recover. After a while, her eyes flickered open and she looked at me.

“Does little one feel better now?” I asked.

She smiled. “Thank you master, little one needed that.”

“Shall we continue?”

“If it pleases master, may we?”

“I need to get some things from the boat,” I told her, “wait here for me.”

I left her to go the short distance to the canoe. From the hill, I could see over the whole marsh, and I verified we would not be disturbed by anyone for at least a while. From the boat, I got the length of rope, my axe, her gag, and all the towels. They’d make a nice padding over a big rock that I’d noticed earlier. I picked up the flogger I’d made, then quickly returned to Samantha. As I approached, I saw she’d stood up and was trying to walk a bit in the chains. She could only move her feet an inch or two each step, and on the rough terrain she was having trouble even keeping her balance, let alone making any progress. When I got to her, I saw, incredibly, she was once again close to cumming. This time my dick said, “I will not be denied.” I listened to him, he’s usually right. I dropped the things I was carrying and stepped to her. Sam fell to her knees before me, hands held up in supplication.

“Master,” she said in a small voice. “Please help me.”

Hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts, I pulled them down and stepped out of them. My raging member sprang free and she immediately took it in her mouth. But I was past that stage, and I took her head to ease her down on the small patch of soft grass, then I knelt in front of her. Hooking my fingers through her ankle chains, I lifted her feet high in the air and inched closer to her, spreading my knees on each side of her hips. I lined up, then entered her in one smooth stroke, filling her up. Her hands flew to her face and she let out a little yelp, then I began to swiftly bang into her, holding her chain, pulling her feet close against my face. I opened my mouth to lick her feet, then started to gently bite them on the sides and the tougher skin of her soles as I felt the cum boiling in my loins. Sam started screaming as she came, low throaty sounds of lust that echoed back to me from the rocky cliff nearby, but I didn’t care, so far gone was I. I yelled loudly too as I came, my cum blasting into her again and again, leaving my head spinning when I was done. I slumped down over her, her legs pressed down to her chest with my weight, our foreheads touching, tremors racking us both.

I managed to roll off her and fall on my back onto the forest floor with my arms and legs spread out. My hand came down on the things I’d dropped, and I felt the rubber gag under my knuckles. I was vaguely aware of Sam stretching her legs out and rolling over to put her hands upon my chest. I picked up the gag and held it near her face, her intake of breath indicating to me when she’d managed to focus her eyes on it. I felt her move her hands to take the gag from mine and when I turned to look she had it held in her mouth and was looking at me. The vision of her pretty face with the black rubber bar between her teeth brought me back to reality quickly and I raised myself up to fasten the straps around her head. I gathered up her hair and had her hold it out of the way, then I buckled the gag tightly in back of her neck. Samantha tried to speak but only a garbled sound was heard. She yelled and the gag muffled the scream somewhat. The two big rings of the bit pressing slightly against her cheeks contrasted with the small silver one through her nostril. I moved close to kiss her, pushing my tongue past the bit to feel hers trapped behind the rubber prison. I liked it.

I sat up and retrieved my shorts, pulling my watch from the pocket. It was going on to six o’clock.

“We’d better get a move on,” I said.

It would be dark by ten, sooner if the cloud cover got thicker. I’d brought a flashlight but didn’t think much of our chances of finding the way out of the marsh in the dark. I gathered up the towels I’d brought and spread them over a nearby boulder, then went back to Samantha and carried her over to it.

The rock was shaped a lot like a spanking bench, low and with a concave top shaped to cradle someone’s tummy nicely. I leaned Sam face down over the bolder with her feet just off the ground on one side and her hands hanging down over the other. Then I took the rope and threaded it through her two bracelets, pulling the ends even. I threw one end around one side, laid the other end around the base of the stone, then retrieved the end at the other side. The two ends I tied together around the chains at her feet. The stone had a groove around the base where it met the ground, so when I pulled the rope tight, it drew her feet and her hands close to it with the rope slipping under the thicker upper part, making it impossible for Sam to lift herself off it. I walked around to her head, and she turned her face up to me, drool dripping from her gagged mouth.

“I’ve got to go find a nice stick to beat you with,” I said. “Don’t go away.”

I picked up my shorts and put them on, then I picked up the flogger and tossed it towards where Sam was tied. I took the axe and I disappeared into the woods. First, I went to the boat and scanned the marsh to make sure we were still alone. I happened on the perfect stick lying in the stream near the boat, soft and springy from soaking in the water. Then, quietly, I moved back to where I could sit on a fallen tree and watch my pretty captive struggle.

I watched her for perhaps half an hour while I idly worked on the stick with my knife. She’d struggle to free herself a bit, then settle down to wait. Her hair, so lovely, but now a major annoyance, would cover her face when she tried to look around, and I watched her thrash her head to try, unsuccessfully, to dislodge it from her eyes. Then she would give up and settle down to wait for my return.

I watched her get more and more agitated until she began to make noises, and then started screaming, the sounds a little loud, but there was no one around to hear anyway. She really began to thrash around and I was almost going to run to her when I saw her body get all tense and her hips push downward with her thighs clamped tightly together, straining against her bondage, in the grips of a major cum. Her high pitched, keening wail echoed off the rocks as her orgasm blasted through her, shaking her body against the stone until she slumped down, spent, or so I thought.

Samantha was only still for a few seconds before I saw her start to struggle against the bonds again, and I saw her quickly achieve another frenzied orgasm. Her cum seemed like it would never end and it was then that I did rush to her to try to settle her down. In her struggles, if she was to sprain an ankle or wrist, wrapped in unyielding steel, the situation could soon grow to an enormous problem way out here.

I ran to her rock and held her head up to me so she could see me. The sight of her face gave me a start. She looked like she had been crying for a while now and her face and her hair were soaked with her tears and slobber. Being unable to properly close her mouth with the gag in, her drool had run into her nose and must have been choking her. She was still shaking and screaming, her eyes unable to focus on me, her orgasm unabated as I held her head and screamed her name over and over. Then her eyes widened as she recognised me finally.

“Mfft. Mfftr. Viff ee!” she sputtered.

I reached for the buckle to her gag to remove it while wiping her face with a corner of the towel. The tension in her body dropped a notch but she began to shake her head making it harder to ungag her. At last the buckle came free and I pulled the bit from her mouth. Her mouth was sore and her breathing laboured so I just stroked her for a moment to let her catch her breath. I was shocked again when she managed to finally speak.

“Oh Master, that was fantastic,” she said, smiling widely. “Please don’t stop now. I need it so bad. Whip me. Please? Hurry?”

“You’re all right?” I asked incredulously. “It looked like you were dying.” Her eyes had already glazed over. I had just turned to pick up the flogger I’d made when I heard her call again.

“Master? The gag?”

I held her head once more. “Yes, little one. Thank you.” Brushing all her hair over the top of her upside down head with my fingers was easy and I pushed the bit into her eager mouth to buckle it tightly once more. Then I took up my flogger and began to lay it onto her quivering flesh. I began slowly, maddeningly lightly at first but soon I was putting more and more effort into the strokes, hitting her from shoulders to the soles of her feet, and everywhere in between. That ridiculous green flogger I’d made in ten minutes stood up surprisingly well, turning out to be much more effective than I ever would have guessed. The fibrous leaves began to break down a little after several minutes hard use, but they held together and actually became more supple, allowing me to put more effort into the whipping, with the strands striking her skin evenly and yet not causing any significant damage.

I’d lost count of the number of orgasms she’d had, it was mostly one long continuous one with peaks and valleys of shaking, moaning, and squirting of girl cum from her swollen and grasping pussy. When the leaves of the flogger became too ratty to have much effect, I quickly snatched up the stick I’d dropped and began to smack her with that, mainly on the more cushioned skin of her bum, but the backs of her thighs presented a nice target also. Sam’s previous moaning became garbled curses, then screams, as the supple stick bit into her flesh. Of course I kept my swings in check, never wanting to leave any serious marks on her beautiful body. Certainly, I would never forgive myself if I marked her in any permanent way. But I spared no effort in making sure she experienced this session to the fullest, and that hopefully it would be one to remember in a good way.

I don’t know how long it went on, but finally I saw she’d had enough and I stopped. Her whole backside was more or less an even flaming red colour, and there were long minutes listening to her sob while I waited for her to calm down. I undid her gag, but she had it clenched tightly between her teeth, so I left her for a moment to check the marsh. There was still no one around that I could see, so I went back to Sam with the canteen of water. She’d unclenched her teeth and the gag was on the ground below her head. I held her head up and dribbled some water over her lips, then poured some in my hand to gently pat it over her back.

After untying the rope holding her down, I gently worked on the muscles of her legs and then her arms, before helping her off the rock. She’d been tied down tightly over the boulder for well over an hour, and was stiff as well as sore from her ordeal. But when I sat on the stone, she moved a little to curl herself around my side, and looking up, she smiled.

“Thank you master.”

Those three little words and my heart soared, content that I had not pushed her over the edge, that I had taken her there and brought her back safely.

We stayed for about an hour longer as I held her and chased the bugs off her. I took a towel down to the water, and after rinsing her cum from it, I took it back to lay its coolness on her burning hot back. Later on, I helped her into her dress, then carefully picked her up, got her settled into the canoe, and started on the trip back to camp.

From the cliff side I’d mapped out a more direct route back to the exit from the marsh, and we made the beaver dam after only a half hour or so. There was a moment of anxiety when, after I’d taken Sam out of the boat and had shifted it past the dam, her feet, where she was standing in the water, had sunk down into the muck. A branch or root or something snagged on the chain around her ankles, and when I tried to lift her she let out a squeal. However, I reached down, managed to untangle her, and got her settled back in the boat. On the shallow spots, I had to once again carefully lift her out of the boat and let her stand in the water while I pulled it past, then go to her to carry her back to the canoe. It was only just beginning to get dark when we reached the main river again, although there was still enough light left for us to get back safely. The wind was beginning to pick up a little, and after I got us around the last dam, I buckled a life jacket around Sam’s middle. She couldn’t get her arms through with the chain on, but it was better than nothing; if the boat would have tipped, she would have probably sunk like a rock.

I handed her a less wet towel to cover her chained hands in case we met someone along the way, then I leaned on the paddle to get us home. Sam had been in pretty rough shape when we left, but now that we were clear of the marsh and back on the main river, she started to open up a bit. She turned back and smiled sweetly at me.

“That was absolutely incredible back there, master. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to call me master now,” I reminded her, “Jim will do.”

“I still seem to be your captive, sir,” she said, wiggling her chains and making them rattle. I watched as she winced when her weight shifted onto a tender spot.

“Are you very sore?” I asked.

Sam gave a little giggle. “Oh yes. I feel terrible, and wonderful at the same time.”

“Tell me about it, Samantha.”

I’d asked her more to give her something to do, since we still had about an hour left before we got back. But then I sat spellbound as she revealed to me her innermost feelings on what had transpired on that hillside overlooking the marsh. By the time she’d finished, my erection was threatening to burst the front of my shorts.

"It was last night when you chained my hands together and then told me you’d left the key back at camp. I started to get scared in case someone saw me like that, and then I started to get really scared, especially after you locked me to the tree and I thought, ‘what if something happened to you and I’d be stuck there like that for God knows how long.’ But then everything ended up great and you got me back home O.K.

"Last night in bed, I started thinking how hot I’d gotten chained up to that tree, and I didn’t really know why. But I understand now, master. It was partly the fear of the unknown, of what could have happened, but didn’t. Fear of someone coming along and seeing me like that, too. But mostly it was today, when you first chained me, when these locks clicked closed and I knew neither of us had any way to get them off me. I knew that I was totally in your power then, that I couldn’t do anything anymore without your help. I couldn’t walk; if you’d have left me there, I could never have gotten out of that swamp.

"Then you gagged me and tied me down to that rock. I couldn’t move at all, and I couldn’t even yell for help, not that anyone would hear. I began to think that you had left me there all alone, and I really began to panic. I couldn’t get free, and I could hardly breath, and then I started to get so worked up that I just started cumming like crazy. I felt as though I would be there forever, chained down to that big rock with a rubber bit stuck in my mouth. I felt like I was floating away, that there was nothing else around but me and that big rock I was chained down to.

“It was beautiful, master, thank you.”

I’d stopped paddling at some point and we’d been drifting with the current while I listened to her. I wanted to take her in my arms to hold her close, but it would have to wait until later, when we reached the campsite. It was a while before I could speak again.

“Thank you, Samantha. You are wonderful, more than I could ever have hoped for. I’m really glad you enjoyed yourself today.”

“But master,” she said, “You only got to cum once while I did so many times. You did all the work while I had all the fun, and now I can’t even help you row the boat.”

I pushed us back into the middle of the river and got us going again. “I usually come here alone,” I said, “since my wife passed away. It’s nice, a chance to clear my head. But today, with you, it’s like a whole new world has opened for me.”

“Did…” Sam began. “Did you take Susan to the marsh?”

“She’s seen it, but not to do what we did there. She didn’t like to do stuff like that out in public. We always kept the kinky stuff in private, at home. Even with friends like Mike, who knew what we were up to, Susan was never comfortable admitting what we used to do in the privacy of our house.”

Even as I spoke, another canoe rounded a bend and passed alongside ours. Sam had seen them, an older couple with a big Husky dog between them, and she just sat back on her heels to cover her chained ankles with her dress while holding a towel over her hands.

“Evening,” the man said.

“Might get some rain soon,” I answered.

Samantha did look a little rough around the edges, and the woman in the other boat picked up on it.

“You youngsters O.K.?” she asked.

“Wife got a little too much sun earlier on,” I said. “Her back’s a bit raw.”

Sam managed to suppress her fit of giggles until the other canoe had gone. When she’d settled down, I told her that Sue would have been mortified if some stranger had seen her chained up in a canoe and she could never have gone through with what we did today.

Sam said, “I think most of the fun was never knowing if someone might come along and see me like this. I don’t know what they’d do about it, though. Maybe run and tell the park rangers that I’d been captured by a slave trader, and you were escaping with me in a canoe.”

That absurd notion gave us both the giggles and I made various pirate references until we made the end of the river and the lake opened before us. In the open water now, I could see far away lightning flashing, and the low boom of thunder could be heard rolling around the hills.

“Arrr, git the wimmin chained below, she be blowin’ up a storm tonight.”

It was past nine when the canoe grounded out on the shore behind our site and I had Sam stand in the water while I pulled the boat up onto land. I then took her in my arms and kissed her lovingly before carrying her up and into the tent. Setting her down on the bed, I rummaged in my bag until I found her keys, then finally she was free. Well, she still had her bracelets with the connecting chain on, but at least she could move her hands apart a little more now.

“It’s dark enough now,” I said, “and I’d really like it if you left these on for a while longer. I’m starving, but I have to get the tarp up before it starts to rain. I can do it myself, but if you think you’re up to it, I could use some help.”

“Just let me change and I’ll be out in a minute,” she said.

I opened the truck to pull out my big tarp, then I lowered the rope I’d strung up earlier. I was just spreading the tarp along the rope when Sam came out of the tent. She’d put on her jeans and her feet were bare. Over her shoulders was what could best be described as a poncho, a woven blanket thing with a hole for her head. It draped down over her arms and covered her chained hands nicely. She’d brushed out her hair, and the whole effect was a kind of earthy, Native American girl look, that forced me to stop working and just stare.

“Sam, you look great!” I said, standing there with my mouth open. When she came closer, I examined her more closely. She had her tube top on underneath, and the poncho had pictures of trees and animals of the forest woven into the design.

“I like it,” I told her.

We got the tarp up with little problem, and I set up the stove on the table, then lit the lantern and set it on low. I had a container of frozen beef stew and one of spaghetti sauce, but we settled on the stew, quicker and less fuss. While Sam tended the pot, I went to the canoe to gather up all the stuff from before, then turned the boat over and returned. I found the locks I’d used on Sam, and from the toolbox in the truck, I got out a can of WD-40 and sprayed some oil into them to drive out the water so they wouldn’t get ruined. Then I gathered up stuff for dinner and set the table. I had to move the truck so the back was under the tarp, and we’d just started eating when the rain began. The stew, along with some bread and cheese, was helped along with a bottle of nice wine. I saw Sam squirming on the hard boards of the picnic table, and with the rain pounding on the tarp over our heads, I had to shout for her to hear.

“Are you O.K.?” I asked her. “You’re not too sore?”

“A little. It’s all right.”

By the time we’d finished the meal, the rain had let up somewhat, and after I gave the dishes a quick rinse, I gathered up some dry towels, my soap and shampoo, and taking my big umbrella, we set off to the washrooms. The road was muddy and Sam stopped to roll the cuffs of her jeans up a little, then I held her close under the umbrella as we made our way to the showers. Along the back of the washroom building was a row of perhaps eight doors, each leading to a cosy little niche. A few of the rooms were occupied, but there was no one else around. I opened the door to let Sam enter, then I went in behind her, closed the door, and turned the lock.

The shower was divided into an area to take your clothes off and another where the shower was. It was big enough for a mother to wash a kid or two in there, so there was enough room for the two of us. I turned on the water and then helped Sam take her clothes off, hanging them on the pegs on the wall. Before Sam got under the spray, I adjusted the temperature so the water was a little cool, better to sooth her still burning back and bum. With all the noise Sam liked to make, fucking her was out of the question, since I could hear other people in the rooms nearby, but I satisfied my desires of the flesh by soaping her lovely body and mine, then rubbing myself all over her. With my slippery hands, I massaged her tired muscles and soothed her tortured skin until she was purring with contentment. I washed her hair and mine, I kissed her, and told her how much I loved her, in hushed whispers in her ear. She had me sit down on the cool tile floor while she took my cock into her mouth and sucked on it until I blew a big load of hot cum down her throat as the water splashed down upon us.

We must have been in there over an hour, and after we’d dried each other off and gotten dressed again, we both felt a whole lot better. We passed a few people along the road, and I saw a couple guys trying not to be too obvious in raping Sam with their eyes. With her hands in chains hidden under her poncho and her radiant face beaming above, we simply said hi and went our separate ways. I felt pleased as hell in having her all to myself. At the campsite, Sam made us a pot of tea and we sat in the screened front part of the tent long into the night, eating cookies and drinking tea, talking. Sam told me that she used to wear the two steel rings on her wrists a lot before she had the chain added to them.

“I really liked the idea of the chain connecting them at first, I saw something exactly like this in some movie once, a girl in a harem I think it was, but then I realised that it wasn’t a very practical idea after all. I thought I’d like to wear them out in public, where people would see it and think I was some kind of slave girl or something. But I began to realize that most people don’t think like that, that it would just be too weird for others to accept, seeing me with my hands chained together. I saw this poncho for sale at a flea market, and I thought it might let me wear the chain outside, but every time I was going to do it, I chickened out and didn’t. But out here where we don’t know anybody, it just seems right somehow. I don’t feel as strange walking around like this as I would back home.”

“Well, it is weird Sam, and it’s too bad, because if it was just the two of us, I would have you wear them all the time. Straight people just can’t accept many of the things we like, the stuff we do. Things are getting a little better with bondage and S and M moving slowly into the mainstream, what with movies and things you see on television sometimes. You’re starting to see more of it around, and people are finding out it’s not so horrible after all.”

“It was really nice, what we did in the swamp today.”

“It was great,” I said. “But if someone had come along and wanted to cause a stink, I could land in jail for doing that to you. Even though it was consensual, even if you said you liked it, they’d just think you’re nuts and then send you off to the funny farm.”

“Mmmm, I wonder if they’d chain me up to my bed.”

I laughed. “I doubt it. They’d probably make you wear a nice suit and have you sit in an office all day. Teach you to be Miss Prim and Proper.”

“Yuck! I get enough of that working at the bank.”

Later on, we went out to take a piss and look at the lake. I could still see lightning flashing around us, and the air was beginning to have a definite chill to it. We went back and I did a check of the tent before we crawled into my big sleeping bag for the night. Samantha was out like a light, and I lay next to her for a while, feeling her warmth, and listening to her even breathing before sleep finally overtook me.

I was awakened at some point by a loud rumbling of nearby thunder and the pounding of rain on top of the tent. I shone the flashlight around our snug abode, but the water had not found its way inside. Sam was awake, touching me, looking lovely beside me, and we ended up making slow, sweet love, her cries of passion matching the energy of the storm as it passed over us. We slept long into the grey morning, the pitter-pat of water dripping off the trees a soothing background to the cozy warmth of our little love nest.

Sunlight was breaking through the cloud cover when we finally went outside to greet the day. After a trip to the can, we got started on making breakfast. Sam wore her poncho with just a pair of shorts and her chained bracelets underneath. I had a flannel shirt and cotton shorts. It was cooler today than before, a definite change in the weather after the storms of the night had passed through. A good thing too, the added clothing would cover the redness of Sam’s back. The backs of her legs were reddened also, but it was fairly even and just looked like a mild case of sunburn. Some places on her back, and in particular on her bum, there was no mistaking the fact she’d been whipped and beaten with something. Her bum had several raised welts that were still quite tender, and there were some bruised purple spots as well.

We both felt good, however, well pleased with the outcome of our foray into the marsh, and we enjoyed a leisurely and hearty breakfast.

“If you feel up to it,” I said, “we could paddle the other river today. It’s a long row but it’s nice, no beaver dams to climb over.”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

“Umm. Do you think you could leave your chain on?”

Sam smiled wickedly. “Do you think we can get away with it?”

“I don’t know. That cape covers it up nicely. Put your bikini on underneath, if it gets hot later, we’ll go for a swim.”

Sam didn’t need to take her bracelets off, the swimsuit top had strings that tied over the shoulder. She untied them, then wriggled into the suit and I helped her tie them back up. She pulled her shorts back on and I dropped her poncho over her head, then I brushed out her long hair. Sam cleaned up from breakfast while I made some ham sandwiches and packed some cans of soda for our lunch. I hung the wet towels from yesterday over a rope between two trees, then got some dry ones out. Down at the water, I got the canoe in and started loading things into it. Just before we set out Sam turned to me.

“Master,” she asked. “Could you bring a lock with you, just in case.”

“I could do that. The key too?”

Sam shook her head, no. She must have had something in mind, but I didn’t ask. I went to my bag and got a lock, made sure it worked from its soaking yesterday, then left it open and dropped the key back into my bag.

Before we finally got going, I rubbed some sunscreen on our faces and legs, since the clouds had mostly disappeared. Sam was able to paddle quite well despite her hands being connected by her chain. Alone, the bracelets wouldn’t look too unusual, and from afar, the chain between them sort of blended in with the shaft of her paddle. Not really, but that’s what I told her to bolster her will to be seen like that in a public place. Whenever another boat would come close, Sam simply dropped her hands, resting the paddle across the front of the boat, and the cape fell down to cover everything. There was a bit of a head wind that whipped Sam’s hair around enticingly in front of me, and the water on the open lake was a little choppy. I asked her if she wanted to wear the life jacket, but she said she felt comfortable with it nearby where she could grab it in case we keeled over.

With her help paddling, it only took about an hour to reach the other end of the lake. There was a picnic area there off the main road, and the other river was to the right. I was bit surprised when, although there were lots of people in the area, Sam just kept on paddling and letting anyone who cared get a glimpse of her chain and bracelets. I was even more surprised, and I think Samantha was also, that no one seemed to become too upset that I had a girl in my canoe whose hands were in chains. I saw a few people look, then look again, then just turn away, sometimes smiling slightly, not wanting to bother us. We paddled along the river meeting other people, exchanging pleasantries. When other boats did come close, Sam would lower her hands under the cape and smile sweetly, leaving the people wondering if they had seen right. When we pulled into a quiet bay, she turned to me.

“People don’t seem too bothered seeing me like this,” she said.

“Maybe we haven’t run into the right people yet,” I joked. “I’ve noticed people come up here to get away from things, enjoy a change from their hum-drum lives. Even people in their air conditioned RV’s with the flush toilets like to think they’re roughing it. I’ve seen some strange people here over the years. People seem more likely to let loose in the wilderness, and I guess as long as you’re not being a bother, any strangeness is a little more easily tolerated.”

The river opened onto a small lake and another campground, the beach crowded with lots of people and kids. I asked Sam to keep her hands covered for now, so we wouldn’t upset folks, and I paddled over to a sandy area on the other side of the lake. We landed the canoe and scrambled up the steep slope of loose sand to the top. This was another strange area, being mostly bare rock covered in patches of some sort of lichen that felt rough under our bare feet. What bushes were there were small and stunted, growing in the sandy soil. Despite the heavy rains of last night, the area had a dry, desert quality to it. We walked for a while and then sat down in the shade of a small tree. Sam put her hands up over her head and around the base of the tree, then clinked her two bracelets together.

I smiled. “Not yet, my little minx. Perhaps later we’ll find a nice secluded spot.”

I slid my hands up under her cape and moved her bikini top up off her tits. Sam held onto the tree trunk and imagined her hands were locked around it as I massaged her lovely breasts, tweaking her stiffened nipples with my fingers. I flipped her cape up and brought my face closer to flick a nipple with my tongue, then I clamped my lips around it and started to suckle on it. Keeping an ear open for anyone coming along, I sucked on her breasts for quite a while until she was squirming her bottom around and making little contented noises. I then pulled away and sat up.

I grabbed hold of her chain and hauled us both to our feet. Samantha was visibly aroused and stood a little shakily. Keeping her chain in my hand, I led her back to the boat. The campground beach was far enough away that I felt unless someone was using binoculars, they wouldn’t be able to see us all that well, so I told Sam to take off her poncho and her shorts. I took off my shirt, took my shorts off, then pulled on my swim trunks, giving anyone with the binoculars a nice view of my naked ass. Leaving our clothes in the boat, we waded out into the warm water and had a lovely swim.

Sam could swim rather well with her chained hands, using a kind of a dog paddle with which she was able to keep up with me pretty well. I came across a big rock in a little cove, partially hidden from the far beach by the curve of the shoreline, that I was able to sit on with the water just up to my neck.

“Hey,” I called, “I found a nice chair.”

Sam swam over and I turned her around to sit on my lap. As she eased her bum down on me, I pulled the crotch of her swimsuit aside and guided my erect cock inside her. I’d already had my trunks down around my knees. By holding around her waist and with the water taking away most of her weight, I was able to slowly bounce her body up and down on my cock in partial view of the people on the beach across the lake. We were far enough away that I felt nobody could really tell what we were doing, and fucking in the open like that did lend quite a bit of a thrill to it.

Sam started to make her usual noises, and I told her she’d better shut up or I’d have to beat her with a stick. I grinned when her horniness doubled at that, although she did manage to put on a more innocent looking demeanour. We must have fucked there for twenty minutes before I blew my load up inside her. At times, when she was cumming hard, she’d lean forwards to dip her head under the water and blow bubbles, trying to mute her cries of passion. So sweet. I’d press her down against me and molest her tits under her bikini top with my hands, stretching out her peak, then continue moving her body on top of me, stroking myself with her tight warmth.

When we were done, I floated Samantha off me and I pulled up my shorts, then backstroked away from the rock. I couldn’t detect any unusual commotion on the far beach, so I guessed no one had twigged to what we were doing there for so long. We waded onto the shore to dry off, Sam throwing on her poncho again, then we got into the boat and took off. The river continued past another bay with campsites all around, then a long, fairly straight stretch, following the old railroad track.

Once past the campground, Sam just paddled normally most of the time, only letting her cape cover her hands when another canoe came near. She often didn’t bother however, and let herself be seen by a number of people, most of whom seemed unconcerned, or at least pretended indifference. We even went so far as to talk with a few canoeists, with Sam rearranging her hair with her hands, the chain rattling and sunlight sparkling off it and the shiny steel rings around her wrists. Eyebrows were raised and the occasional comment was made, but her unusual jewellery went largely ignored much of the time by the folks who saw it. Farther away from the campground, there were less people about anyway, so it didn’t matter as much.

We came upon a dam, a man-made structure that controlled the water level in the lake. After landing on the shore, Sam helped me carry the canoe around and set it in the water on the other side. We then continued our paddle down the river. I’d never gone past the dam, but I’d looked at the map before, and the river continued on forever, one of the main waterways of the old fur trapping routes, but I didn’t plan to go too much farther.

It was about an hour after the dam that I began to glimpse the high rock face of a hillside through the trees. I saw what appeared to be a small stream leading off the main river and towards the hill, so I turned the boat in and we proceeded slowly through dense bush along the shallow creek. After perhaps ten minutes, the water became too shallow for us to continue, so we landed and I took our lunch bag, then we continued on foot towards the hill. We came upon a nice sunny clearing near the base of the hill and sat down to have something to eat. Samantha took off her cape, then, since it was warm enough in the shelter of the hillside, she took off her bikini top as well. Seeing Sam’s delicious body added a little something to the sandwiches, making them seem to taste like the best ham and cheese sandwiches I’d ever had.

After we’d finished eating, I gathered up the trash and left the bag on top of a rock, then we hiked around the area a little. Neither of us had brought shoes, but the forest floor was mostly covered in dead leaves, softened from the rain during the night. Sam spotted it first, and I followed her eyes to the side of the bare rock hill. Up, about ten feet high, a pathetic looking tree had taken root in a crack and had grown there, its few branches reaching up towards the sunlight.

Under the tree, at the base of the nearly vertical rock face, was a large flat stone a couple inches high. Sam stepped up on the rock and, turning to face me with her back against the cliff, she raised her hands high over her head. It didn’t take me too long to figure it out.

“I’ll go back to the boat and get some rope,” I said. “Wait right here, I won’t be long.”

Along the way, I picked up the bag with the sandwich wrappers and empty pop cans, then at the boat, I left the bag and took the rope off the end of the canoe. Sam was sitting on the stone platform, naked except for her bracelets and the chain. I sat down next to her and began to thread the rope through one bracelet then the other. I looped the rope through each one three times, then tied a tight knot a couple of feet along the long end.

Sam stood up under the tree, and after a couple of throws, I got the rope over it. Slowly, tantalizingly, I pulled on it to draw her hands up over her head. I watched the tree carefully, and I grabbed both ends of the rope and tugged hard to make sure nothing would come crashing down, but the tree was solidly imbedded into the cliff, and satisfied, I pulled up the last of the slack to raise Sam’s arms straight up over her head.

A little to the left was a crack that I managed to wrap the rope through and around so I could tie it off. I then stepped back to admire my naked girl chained to a rock.

“All we need now is a dragon,” I said, in reference to the drawing she’d given me.

Sam’s eyes were beginning to glaze over as she began to pull and struggle a bit. I watched her put more of her weight on her arms, testing her bonds, until her feet left the stone beneath her. She raised up her legs and hung free, swinging slightly, suspended from the two bracelets around her wrists.

I went to her and held her to take some of her weight.

“Master, could you raise me up a bit higher?” she asked.

“No Sam, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Your wrists are going to get bruised if you hang like that. Your bracelets aren’t suspension cuffs, a nerve or something could get pinched and cause you problems later on.”

She groaned in disappointment, but lowered her feet to the stone again. I began to softly caress her body, letting my hands travel over every inch of her soft skin, and paying particular attention to her breasts, her stiffened nipples, and lower still, between her thighs. Her arousal was building and she was already quite wet there. With the tip of one finger, I traced around her clit, then began to gently rub it with the pad of my finger.

She started trying to push herself against me, attempting to get a bit more pressure against my fingertip, but I kept my touch maddeningly light, letting her heat increase slowly and then keeping her just at the edge for torturous minutes. Sam had her eyes tightly shut, and her face and chest had a crimson glow from her arousal. Her legs had seemed to have gone all rubbery, so most of her weight was supported by her wrists, but a glance told me that the blood circulation was good. At least her hands were still a healthy pink colour. When she was just about ready to cum, I withdrew my hands and stepped back off the stone platform.

It took a while before she realized the stimulation she was enjoying was no longer present; her twitching stopped, and her eyes opened to see me sitting on a nearby rock watching her. She took a few deep breaths to calm down, then she spoke to me.

“Master, why did you stop?”

A valid question no doubt, but I still had to laugh.

“Why, to torture you, my dear,” I said.

Sam hung red faced with her chained hands tied to a rock cliff. Her front faced me, and I realized that the colour no longer matched that of her back.

“Would you like me to beat you, darling?”

The beginnings of a smile pulled the corners of her mouth. She saw where I was looking, at those lovely tits of hers.

“Well, maybe a little,” she answered.

Sliding off my rock perch, I went to find a stick. Using my knife, I nipped off a thin branch from a small maple tree, then stood before my squirming captive and let her watch me strip off the leaves and shoots, scrape off the thin bark, leaving me with a nice straight, thin rod about two feet long. I smacked her left breast on the inside curve.

“Ouch!”

A narrow red line instantly appeared where I’d hit her, and while she hopped from one foot to the other, I looked around for something to gag her with. My eyes landed on her swimsuit top on the ground nearby, so I rolled the material into a ball and held it before her face. Sam obediently opened her mouth to let me pack the fabric in.

Shortly thereafter Samantha was riding the crest of an endorphin-induced high once more. How someone could derive such seemingly euphoric pleasure from having pain inflicted upon them was something I have problems in understanding, but the contented smile on Sam’s lips as I smacked her with my stick proved that it was possible. During the session yesterday, I’d been watching her closely for some sign that it was enough, that I should stop. Everyone has limits and I had searched for hers, yet she’d taken all I had given her and I suspected that she was even left wanting more. There was, however, only so much that I would ever be willing to give.

A moderate spanking, sure. The whip? Skilfully wielded is good too. A thin, stinging stick like the one I was now using worked well also. Start off slow, let the hurting build up, get those wonderful pain killing hormones coursing through the bloodstream. Stoke that fire, make it rage. She’s there now, flying high, right out there. Scale it back a bit, keep it real. Softer, more well places strokes, keeping the edge keen, a careful balance on the knife edge. A gentle uppercut, and again, against her soft wet core, hard enough to feel, to know the fear of what could be. Hearing the stick contact her flesh and clink against her rings in there. Excellent.

Doms that complain of their arm getting tired don’t know what they’re doing. Or, perhaps, it was Samantha’s willingness and responsiveness that made it so easy. I passed my hands over her breasts and down her belly, not touching her, feeling the heat radiating off her. Her eyes were open, aware of me, seeing me. Encouraging me. Two quick, sharp strokes on those two little nubbins sticking out at me. Her eyes fall shut and she trembles, adds to the puddle of girl cum on the stone under her feet.

I let the session drag out, keeping her primed for long minutes, slowing it down a little, letting her drop back a bit. Then building it up once more and making her hold onto the edge again. Samantha was loving every bit of it. I could see it in her eyes when she looked my way, raw passion unleashed. I banked her up one last time, then went to a nearby rock to perch my ass and just watch her twist and writhe, undulating her body in a highly erotic fashion. I twirled the stick between my fingers while I watched her cum and cum. Such a simple thing, used the right way, releasing such a great amount of energy. Several minutes went by while Sam came down from her rush. I watched her push the gag out of her mouth and let it fall to her feet, then breath deeply, taking in a huge lungful of fresh air. When she finally became more aware of her surroundings, I went to her and put my arms gently around her. She tilted her head up and spoke softly in my ear.

“Oh, Master,” she cooed, “that was wonderful.”

She brought her foot up to rub my leg.

“Please fuck me Master,” she said, “With me like this?”

I pulled my shorts down a little and my prick sprang free, ready. Lifting one of Sam’s legs, I gently inserted myself into her boiling hot slit. Sam brought her other leg up and around my hips, locking her feet together behind me. I held onto her thighs and pressed her back against the stone cliff, then began bucking my hips and banging into her. She was sore both in front and in back, and I saw her wince from time to time with the pain. She was also exhausted, but I felt her have two weak orgasms, her cunt muscles clamping down hard on my cock each time. I held her up as I fucked her, her weight off her wrists, the rope slack. I didn’t try to prolong it, I was a little worried about her wrists supporting her weight for all this time, and I was soon able to blast an immense load of cum up into her grasping pussy. I got an arm under her ass to raise her up a little, then stepped to the side and reached for the end of her rope. After getting it free from the crack in the rocks, I carried Samantha over to a patch of soft grass and carefully lay her down. I untied the rope from her bracelets and I told her to wait for me while I went to the canoe for the water canteen. Then, pulling my shorts back up, I left her there. I had thought I’d heard people coming and when I got to the boat, I could see another canoe making its way up the little river. Taking the canteen and Sam’s cape I hurried back to her.

“Someone’s coming,” I said to her, “try not to look like you just got beat with a stick.”

Sam put on her poncho and straightened out her hair while I gathered up her bikini pieces, then we sat together sipping water to await our guests. We heard them long before we saw them. Two kids, a teenage boy and presumably his girl friend, came upon us sitting together on a little patch of grass. They both got nervously quiet when they saw Sam and me.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hello,” they said in unison.

The two went past us and turned left to walk along the cliff. If they’d have gone right and stepped up on a flat rock there, they might have slipped in a big puddle of cum. I asked Sam to show me her hands, and she brought them out from under her cape. As I suspected, I didn’t like what I saw. That’s not quite true, a big part of me did like it. From her hanging all her weight on her bracelets, her wrists looked sore and would probably be quite bruised by the end of the day. I felt around under the steel rings and noticed her wince as I pressed a little.

“You’ve gone and hurt yourself,” I chastised her.

“It’s not too bad,” she answered.

“We’ll see. Come on, let’s head back.”

I steadied Sam as we walked back to the canoe and helped her get settled in the front. I paddled us almost to the main river, and we had a swim to wash the dried up cum and sweat off us. Sam found the cool water soothing, so I let her soak for a while as I rubbed her tired muscles and held her close to me in the water. We then dried off, dressed, and got going again.

Sam asked me if she could take off her bracelets and the chain for a while, so I said yes and handed her the bottle of sunscreen. I could see her struggling and heard her moan in pain as she tried to work the rings off her hands, and I told her to wait until we got back and I’d try to help her. At the dam there was no one around, so I had another look at her hands.

She really had done herself an injury, and not only were her wrists bruised from the strain of hanging by her bracelets, but her hands had swollen up a bit too.

“Sam, you better leave these alone for a while until you heal a bit. If you fight to try and get them off now, you’ll just make it worse.” I didn’t want to get her upset, but rather than a look of fear, I saw a smile spread over her face.

“You mean I’m stuck like this?” she said, rattling her chain.

“Well, I guess you are. For today, anyway.”

I let her have a break while I carried the canoe and all the junk up past the dam, then we settled in for the trip back home. Sam helped me paddle a bit, but when we reached the big lake, the wind was at our backs and we mostly drifted back to the campsite. It was past seven when the boat touched shore behind the site, and the first thing I did was lead Sam into the tent and give her a good rub down with my witch hazel skin lotion. I didn’t think it would help, but I rubbed some into her wrists, feeling the bones under her bracelets, making sure her injury wasn’t serious.

“There’s nothing broken,” I told her, “not sprained, I don’t think. Leave these on for now and we’ll try to get them off tomorrow.”

“Yes master. Thank you.”

We got dressed in long jeans and I wore a thick shirt, Sam, her poncho. After a dousing with bug spray, we got started on supper. I made a fire in the fire pit, then set up poôs on the stove for the spaghetti. While Sam tended the pots of sauce and noodles, I attempted garlic bread on the fire. Doing it in an oven under the broiler, the bits of garlic stay on top where they’re supposed to go, but when you do it over coals in a fire pit, most of the garlic falls off and gets burnt up. The stench did help keep the insects at bay, so we were able to enjoy the meal without having to swat at mosquitoes, and the bread actually turned out O.K.

After we’d eaten and got everything cleaned up and put away, we took cups of coffee and the lawn chairs down to the beach to sit and watch the sun go down. A peaceful end to a fantastic weekend.

“Oh, Jim,” Sam said, “This has been such a lovely trip. Thanks for bringing me along.”

“Lovely?” I asked. “Your hands are stuck in chains, your skin has been flayed off. I’d hate to see you having a bad trip.”

She laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“Sure. It’s been great having you along, Sam. Things really worked out well.”

“Could we do it again sometime?” she asked.

“Do you have vacation time left this year?”

Sam told me she still had another week left. I could pretty much take time off anytime, the way my job is.

“It’s really nice up here in the fall,” I said. “Less people. When the leaves start turning colours, it’s really beautiful. I usually try for a week around the middle of September. The weather sometimes sucks, but at least there’s no bugs then.”

“Could you bring me along next time?”

I grinned. “Gets pretty chilly at night. Be nice to have someone to warm up the sleeping bag for me.”

We sat on the beach long after sundown, watching the stars come out, then, later on we went back to our site to drop off the chairs and grab soap and a towel. At the washrooms it was busy, but we only had to wait a few minutes for a shower room to be free. I’d thought I heard some chuckles when we both went in together and closed the door, but it didn’t matter. Gently, I patted soap on Sam’s tender skin and helped her wash so she didn’t have to rattle her chain too much. We finished up quickly and I dried her and myself off, then we got dressed and left.

Back in the tent, I gave her a gentle rubdown with the skin lotion again, and then we sat around the fire for a long while chatting like long time lovers. I’d only known this girl for a little over a month now, and it was scary how well suited we were for one another. Her attitudes on a lot of things seemed more mature than her age would indicate, and my being over ten years her senior never seemed to be a problem for her. As far as our sexual needs went, we both fit together like two spoons in a drawer. I felt happy when our conversation began to edge around us having a more firm commitment to one another.

“Samantha,” I said, “I know we’ve only known one another for a short while now, but I want you to know that if you’re open to the idea of us living together, I’d be very pleased if you decided to move in with me. You know I feel a completeness when I’m with you that I haven’t had in a long time now, and I think you feel it too; how good we’d be for one another.”

“I think I’d like that, Jim, but it’s a big step for me. I think I’d like to, but I’m not sure if I can just yet.”

“It would be a change, for sure,” I said, “but it would be a change for the better for me, being closer to you, having you with me. As far as your work goes, a smart girl like you could find something closer to my home if you wanted to. Or not. It wouldn’t be a problem if you chose to stay home, I have enough that we’d manage just fine.”

“It would mean giving up my independence,” she said.

“I don’t think not being independent is something you would miss very much.”

That one got her smiling.

“Think about it, Sam,” I said. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Close to midnight, we took a walk down to the beach to look at the stars once more. With the cooler weather now, the sky was even clearer, and the heavens were filled with tiny points of light. As we watched, a huge shooting star streaked bright, seemingly close, breaking up in the thicker atmosphere into smaller pieces that twinkled as they fell to earth.

“Make a wish,” I said.

We held each other, cuddled and kissed long and with great passion. Later on, in the tent after we’d undressed, I buckled the bit gag into Sam’s mouth and had her lay on her back. I lifted up her feet and pulled the chain between her wrists under her legs, then under her bum so she was lying on it and her hands were pinned at her sides. I pushed my face between her thighs and feasted on her delicious pussy, lapping up her bittersweet nectar each time it squirted from her opening. The gag actually did little to muffle her cries in the silence of the campground, and each time she started making noise, I just lifted my mouth off her and waited for her to quiet down. She quickly learned that if she wanted the stimulation to continue, she’d better keep silent.

After that, I had her roll over onto her side and I snuggled up behind her. Taking her chain in my hand, I pulled her hands up behind her back, mindful not to hurt her wrists more than they already were, and I pushed my dick into her waiting pussy. I hooked my fingers through the strap of her gag with my thumb around her chain, and I held her firmly like that while I slowly stroked my cock into her. Samantha made me proud as she managed to keep her silence through two more orgasms before I let loose with a torrent of jism deep inside her.

I released my hand from her and unbuckled the strap of the bit gag, then we just lay cuddled closely together until sleep finally overtook us. My cock softened and slipped out at some point, but I’d already spread a towel under her before we had begun, so any mess wouldn’t soak into my sleeping bag too badly.

I awoke the next morning to find Sam’s lovely rump pressed against my side, my hand upon her hip. She’d shifted one hand in front of her, the chain under her waist, her other hand pulled behind her back and touching me. I woke her with a caress to her breasts, and she struggled for a moment before she realised she was lying on the chain connecting her hands.

“Morning, sweetheart,” I said

“Mmmmm. Good morning, master.”

I unzipped the sleeping bag and helped her slip the chain over her legs. It must have been early, since there was little noise outside and the light was still dim. I found my watch and checked. Five thirty in the morning.

“Let’s go for a paddle,” I said.

After getting dressed, I made us some coffee and broke a piece off the bannock, then we set out in the cool morning air. Twenty feet from shore, we were enveloped in the morning mist on the lake. I paddled through the thick fog, not knowing in which direction we were going, then we drifted for a while and had breakfast somewhere out on the lake.

All too soon, the sun burned away the mist and shapes began to form around us. We’d floated near to one of the islands. I took Sam’s hands in mine to examine her wrists. The swelling had gone down, and she didn’t wince so much when I prodded under her bracelets.

“When we go back we’ll see about getting these off you.”

“What time are we leaving?” she asked me.

“Afternoon sometime, I guess, why?”

Sam was looking at her chained hands. “When did I put these on?”

I thought. “Two days ago. Mid afternoon?”

“Forty-eight hours,” she said. I felt her shiver a little. “Wow. I’d never…”

I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I said, “You’re great Sam. I love you so much.”

She looked up. “I love you too, Master.”

When the mists had almost lifted, I dipped a paddle and took us back to camp.

“Master?” Sam asked, “Could I leave these on till later, make it two days even?”

“Sure, little one,” I said, “Why not.”

After a proper breakfast, we paddled across the lake and to the trail we’d first taken on Friday evening. Continuing past the spot of her first punishment, we hiked up the hill and down the other side to the next lake, not meeting with anyone along the way. Sam had her poncho on with nothing at all underneath, except for her bracelets and the chain connecting them. Stripping down, we had a nice swim, then sat naked on the rocks on shore to dry off, before we heard people coming and had to hurriedly dress. Two men carrying a canoe came down the hill and set their boat into the water near where we sat. When they’d gone, Sam let out a breath.

“You know,” I said, “if you still want to come up here in the fall, we could find a place where there would be no one else around.”

The northern part of the park is a huge tract of wilderness accessible only by canoe or on foot, I told her. “The main canoe routes are generally busy, but there’s lots of side rivers and lakes that we could take and not see anyone else for days.”

Sam started to get a gleam in her eye. “That might be fun,” she said.

We walked back to the boat and I paddled back to camp, then we made a start on taking everything down and packing up. Sam made lunch, and after eating, I got a bucket of lake water. It was close to two in the afternoon when I spread the last of the dish soap over her hands and helped her work her bracelets off over them. I watched her as she helped me take down the tent and fold it up, keeping her hands close together most of the time, a look of surprise coming over her when she found herself with them far apart, reaching to do something. After having her hands chained for so long, she’d become used to being like that, and found her freedom strange now.

It was with a little sadness, that I fired up the Jeep and we drove slowly through the campground and out to the highway. The roads got wider and the traffic increased the closer we got to home. I took us into the city, and to Samantha’s apartment building, parking in back, carrying her bag up to her place.

“Stay for coffee?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “I’m going to stop in at the hospital on the way back, see if there were any problems, then head home. Thanks, though.”

“Call me tonight?”

“Sure, Sam. Thanks for a really swell weekend. See you soon.”

“Bye, Jim. Thanks.”

On the road again, the smells of camping fresh in the truck, cruising under the shadow of the canoe on top. Other drivers all seemed to be in a big hurry as I breezed along in the outside lane. At work there’d been a minor problem, but my assistant had handled it. Then on the highway heading home, tunes on the radio, a big smile on my face.