Chapter 7 – The Barrel
It took an eternity for the door to ease open; I could never have believed that sitting down could be so darned uncomfortable; so much for a supposedly well padded bottom!
I scrambled to my feet with as much dignity as I could, hampered by my shackled wrists, impeded by my chained ankles. Do not get me wrong; I was still obsessed with the chains but perhaps a bit of the novelty had worn off !
Emmeline greeted me with a hug, wrapping her arms around me, enveloping me with her warmth. Her breath was still sweet, and that delightful fragrance she wore seemed to have matured to perfection; rather than having become stale, it had become more alluring, delighting my senses, re-igniting my arousal.
Her kiss, though, was chaste.
“Come, Girl, we have work to do! The shop has now been closed and you are all mine. There is no-one around to hear your yelps, no one around to rescue you if you decide to scream.”
It all sounded so ominous, but I trusted her by now; I was sure that I would not be harmed and perhaps my release was in store.
She pulled a set of keys from her jeans pocket, and moved across to the one of the concrete blocks, to open the padlock that tethered me there.
“Feet together, Sweet Pea!”
The term of endearment was not lost on me, although it did carry a certain ominous tone. I pulled my feet together and looked down with interest to see what would come next. Emmeline locked the two ankle chains together, leaving me hobbled with about only two foot of play. She released me from the other concrete block, and with a playful pat on my bottom, she pointed across the room.
“Bring that barrel back here, Girl…quickly now, move it!”
I started to shuffle across the store room to the other end where a blue water collection barrel stood under the shelf. It was about three or four foot high, and wider than I would have been able to circle with my arms, I couldn’t figure out why she wanted it, but was certain that time would still tell.
I shuffled across the room under her watchful eye; it felt awkward with the hobble grabbing at my ankle when I stepped out too far. Perhaps it would have been easier if I had not been wearing high heels, perhaps my chained hands threw me slightly off balance. The excess chain from each of my ankle restraints dragged on the floor behind me, clinking and jangling with every step.
I did not even hear Emmeline approach from behind and did not feel the sting of the strap before it cut into my bottom. I yelped and instinctively tried to reach back with my hands; with my wrist shackled together in from of me, I did not get very far. The strap set a raging fire across my bottom’s right cheek, the tip of the leather cutting into my crack.
“Move it, Girl, we haven’t got all night for this.”
As I struggled to regain my physical and emotional equilibrium, I also struggled to figure out what had just happened to my poor derriere! It was probably the leather dog collar she had used as a strap; it was a far more painful experience than I would ever have guessed. I shuffled on faster, terrified of another blow, and reached the water barrel without her offering further physical encouragement.
Under her watchful eye, I tipped it onto it’s side, and rolled it back to the center of the room. She chose a spot midway and slightly in front of the two concrete blocks; my mind was in turmoil and I didn’t know what was coming next.