Milord likes to get back to nature sometimes, so he built a small cabin on the outskirts of our property, deep in the woods. It is RUSTIC. He also furnished it with only basic equipment and furniture. No indoor plumbing. No electricity. A wood burning stove, oil lamps, candles, an ice chest, pantry, wooden and wicker furniture, and a freaking bed box!

What is a bed box you ask? It’s a bed behind doors which fits precisely into a “box” or tiny room built around the bed. It was once used for privacy and warmth. I suppose it is still used for that!

Beneath the built in bed is a drawer which hold all of his special implements. I, of course, am only allowed to open that drawer with his permission.

Naturally, he has given me a set of rules, which I have agreed to, that he has posted on the door of the cabin.

1. sub will be nude at all times unless given express permission, in which case she will show proper gratitude for the privilege by worshipping Milord’s cock.
2. sub will bend over the bed, feet wide apart to receive her spanking before entering or leaving the bed.
3. Once in bed, sub will not leave until given permission.
4. sub will not leave the cabin without a plug, collar, clamps, or other physical symbol of possession.
5. sub may not remove what Milord has inserted or attached.

Milord, bless him, has also added a 5 gallon container of fresh water and filled the small pantry with staples. Nonetheless, before I can prepare anything, we need firewood.

“Come with me,” he says innocently enough. “I’ll chop the wood and you can stack it. You can fill the wood box inside and the rest can be stacked between those two trees. I’ve brought a tarp to drape over it to keep it dry.”

I smile and head for the door, but seeing my list of rules, turn back around to stand in front of him.

He smiles, pleased, and buckles a small, leather collar around my neck. It’s loose enough to be comfortable, so I stand on my toes and kiss him. He laughs and we head out.

An hour later, I’m exhausted but horny as hell watching Milord’s muscles ripple with each stroke of his ax. He’s removed his shirt and sweet glistens down his back. Finally, he props the ax against the wooden stump and suggests we go to the creek for a quick rinse. Happily, I hold his hand and walk beside him.

The water is COLD yet refreshing. We frolic in the clear water of the creek, relieve ourselves in the woods, and go back to the cabin, hand in hand.

“You look cold,” he says once we’re inside. “Would you like to put on a robe while I get the fire going?”

My teeth are chattering, so I say yes. He raises his eyebrow and I kneel in front of him, worshipping his magnificent cock, sliding his length down my throat until I gag. I hold it there a moment, then go deeper. I bob my head up and down slightly, taking more and more of him until my lips are pressed against his base. I hear him moan as I look up to meet his eyes. He gives one hard thrust, grasps my head, and pumps his seed down my throat. I suck him clean, savoring every drop, as he slowly pulls out.

He drapes the warm robe around me then turns to load wood into the stove and gets it going. It doesn’t take long for the heat to fill the small cabin with cozy warmth.

“You look tired. Why don’t you take a little nap,” he informs me.

All warmed up now, I take off the robe and bend over the bed. I’m uncomfortable, the hard wood around the bed biting into my waist. Milord sees this and adjusts me, telling me to step back and to hold on to the wooden edge tightly. This position also gives him room to open the drawer beneath my body. He pulls out leather tawse and I close my eyes. I both hate and love the tawse. It has a ferocious bite but also a lovely thumpy feel to it. I’ve been good, so I’m hoping that he will go easy on me.

Silly me! Why would I want him to go easy? I’m dripping honey down my thighs from the very thought of that thing on my flesh! Ten slaps in and I’m gasping, my ass hot and swollen feeling. My nipples are hard as bullets and my juice running down my legs.

He runs his fingers over my slit and laughs.

“I thought you’d enjoy that. Now, I have a bit more work to do, and I rather like the thought of you going bed all frustrated. Hope in. And remember, you don’t come out until I open these doors,” he reminded me.

I moan and groan, but obey. So, here I lie. In the dark. Horny and frustrated. Listening to Milord putter about the cabin, humming to himself. How long will he keep me here? In some ways, this is worse than standing in a corner! I’m thinking about getting myself off when I hear him say, “I hope you’re being good in there. You’ll regret it if you aren’t.”

I growl. He laughs. I finally settle myself into a frustrated nap.