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From: "Leviticus" <leviticusthebard@cableone.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Sidewalk Chalk    (bd)
Date: Sun, 21 Apr 2002 23:10:05 -0400
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Sidewalk Chalk.

by Leviticus


As I stepped out of the doors onto the concrete patio behind my house, I
looked up at the clear blue sky and smiled.  It was a wonderful clear day,
with temperatures in the high seventies and a slight breeze that felt good
to my skin.  There wasn't even any rain forecast, and that had given me an
idea for something new for her to do.

I'd noticed that she had been restless of late, her daily routine keeping
her occupied as it should, yet not quite as satisfied as before.  I knew how
important it was to have the occasional break.  Variety is the spice of life
and all that.  So I tried to find something different for her to do every
once and a while.  Usually it was a trip out of the house, a rare treat
after she had come to live with me full-time.  She hadn't realized at first
just what I had meant about her being here full time, I demand so much from
her.  Yet she adjusted and was happy.  But this day she would only go as far
as the back patio, and her task would be completely new to her.

I picked up a plastic box I'd bought the day before and moved towards an
area of the patio I had cleared earlier that day.  I loved the feel of the
warm concrete under by bare feet, smooth and clean now because she spent
yesterday polishing it.  The concrete was ready for what I hoped would be an
interesting afternoon.

I put the box down in the middle of the cleared area and opened it before
turning to the patio doors and calling her.  I waited patiently for her to
appear, knowing that she could not move fast.  I watched as she gingerly
made her way over the door sill before moving with a little more confidence
across the patio towards me.

She was a beautiful sight, nude, her head down low, her long hair tied up in
a ponytail for the moment.  In contrast, her ass was her highest point, a
truth more often than not in this house.  Her smooth skin was marred only by
the way it changed color from a light tan to a pinkish red, evidence of her
latest spanking.  Like this she crawled slowly towards me, her hips moving
from side to side, her firm breasts visible and occasionally brushing the
ground as she moved.  Just a few chains kept her in this position.  One
around her waist, which I never removed, had been worn by her for a year
now.  It was connected to both of her ankles by two more separate chains
that weren't long enough for her to stretch her legs out.  Her wrists were
connected to her collar in a similar way, with two separate chains only six
inches long.  Like this, all she could do was crawl, her head forced near
the ground due to the shortness of her wrist chains.  She could move about
in other ways too, but she knew this was the preferred mode of movement I
wanted her to use.

She stopped obediently in front of me and looked up at me, a curious smile
on her lips.  She knew this was a break in her routine and I knew she was
happy about it.  Rarely had these breaks turned into something bad for her,
something which I put down to good planning on my part.  Real life wasn't
like a story, not everything worked every time, so I was careful when
thinking of new things for us to try.  I had no worries about today though,
what she would be straining today was not her body.

Normally I would take a long chain from the corner of the patio and lock it
to her collar, but decided not to today.  The other end was locked to a ring
I'd embedded in the concrete when I had laid the pad a year and a half ago.
I knew she wasn't going anywhere trussed and unclothed as she was, but just
for aesthetic reasons I liked to keep her chained to things anyway.  As I
let my eyes roam her delightful looking bondage I said with a smile, "You
look good!"

She smiled back and winked.  "Thank you, Sir.  I can say the same about
you!"  Her eyes looked at my own bobbing nudity.

I chuckled.  My yard was completely screened from prying eyes during the
spring and summer by thick foliage and well built fences.  There was no
place in the yard you could go and be seen by any of our neighbors, so I
rarely saw the need to wear clothes around the house.  She never wore any
except for those rare occasions when she was seeing someone from outside our
circle of friends.  I think it had been at least a month since she'd last
put on anything.

I grinned and bobbed a bit more just to entertain her, and then moved to the
box.  "Stay there; kneel," I ordered and she gladly got up from all fours to
sit back on her feet, her knees spread slightly, her hands now hanging just
above her breasts, her forearms covering them. She looked like a begging
puppy in that position, I had to smile until I noticed her mistake.

I looked at her and frowned, and with a start she lifted her elbows out away
from her sides, uncovering her breasts.  She was good at remembering the
positions I was training her in, but still she forgot the little things from
time to time.  I wasn't worried; there was no hurry to have her become
perfect.  So I smiled and nodded before taking something out of the plastic
box.

She looked at what I held with a puzzled expression, as well she should.
"Chalk, Sir?" she asked.

I smiled and bent over, holding the thick blue chalk in my hand.  I started
to draw a line, walking backwards as I did so, turning four times until I
had drawn a fairly even square about ten feet on each side.  Then I returned
the chalk to the box.

"Ready?" I asked her.

"For what?" she asked, looking up at me with a slightly worried expression.

"Art.  I have here a box full of sidewalk chalk, lots of different colors to
choose from.  Your task for today is to fill this square with Art."

"Art..." she said with a chuckle, "You know I can't draw, don't you?"

"Oh, everyone can draw with sidewalk chalk.  I'm not asking for Picasso
here, but I want a good effort from you.  Make me happy and I'll treat you
later," I said, watching her smile at the word `treat'.  "But I'll also be
equally unhappy if you waste your time out here.  Then you get to treat me!"

Her smile faded a little and I could see that she just realized that this
wasn't just a casual way for her to spend some time.  She knew I expected
something from her today, something that was representative of her training.
I sometimes set her tasks to teach her something or reinforce past lessons,
and while this one wasn't as critical as I figured she thought it was, I
hoped that she would learn something about herself.

As for her treating me, well, that usually meant a session without a safe
word.  It's not that I would do anything horrible to her, our tastes were
too similar for me to treat her like that.  But the fact that she had lost
that final bit of control over her life put an edge on our play that always
made it more fun for me than for her.  It was a useful way of punishing her
or at the very least, giving her incentive to push herself just a little bit
further.

I walked out of the square and gestured at the box of chalk.  "It's all
yours," I said, "You have the afternoon but don't feel rushed.  I'll do
supper tonight and if you aren't done by the time we eat then you can work
on it some more after that.   I'm more in favor of quality than quantity,
but having the square full by the time dusk comes would be in your favor."

With that, I turned and left her alone to ponder her task, wondering what
she would do with it.

As I said before, not every plan was a winner.  One time I drove her twenty
miles to a friend's farm where I had planned on her hauling hay bales naked
and chained.  Ten minutes into the task she stepped on a rake hidden in the
loose hay and cut up her foot.  Another time we went to visit this supposed
private lake only to be nearly arrested for indecent exposure.  Then there
was the time I didn't pay enough attention to the state of her health and
she ended up almost choking in a coughing fit while wearing a full helmet.
Little things like that make me more cautious now, and anyone reading this
should do likewise.

Once I was in the house I turned to watch her for a while through the glass
wall.  The glass was tinted so she couldn't see me inside, and I could sit
only ten feet from her and monitor what she was doing.  What she was doing
was just staring at the square.  She had a red piece of chalk in one hand
and I could see the puzzlement on her face.  What she had said about not
being artistic was true, but then I meant what I said about it not mattering
too much.  Hell, even four year olds can draw with sidewalk chalk, which was
where I got the idea incidentally, from watching the kids a few houses down.

What mattered more with this task was how she attacked the problem rather
than the end result.  She had a choice of either blowing it off and doing
some so-so work or actually making a real effort.  I was betting on the
effort, for she was that kind of a woman.  If she hadn't been, I wouldn't
have been in love with her.

Sure enough after a while, she bent low and made her first mark.

It must have been awkward drawing like that, in the chains that bound her
and restricted her movements so much.  But that was a part of the challenge,
an important part.  It hadn't taken her long to learn that her restraints
were not just the tools of occasional play, but a fact of her continuing
life with me.  She existed, therefore, she was restrained.

Granted, most of the time what she wore was hardly restricting, after all
she was human and had to live.  But pretty much from the time she moved in
with me she was never completely free of something.  Complete free range of
movement was no longer something she took for granted as she was either
being locked to herself or to something else all the time.  So she was used
to doing things this way now.

Watching her work I marveled at how she got around, shuffling on her hands
and knees, bent low because of the short chains on her wrists.  Quite often
she would have to spread her knees wide in order to work and I would catch a
glimpse of the silver ring in her clitoris hood.  At other times she would
attempt to sit on her side, but it was too restrictive for drawing so she
only did so when taking a break.  She would even roll over and lie on her
back, her knees forced up in the air, her arms pulled to the sides of her
chest.  She presented quite a picture that way, one that tempted my bobbing
nudity, but I didn't want to interrupt her that way.  Then there were her
bathroom breaks which automatically had her crawling to a particular flower
bed.  That had been hard to train into her at first, but with patience was
finally accomplished.

 From time to time I came out and gave her water to drink, for the sun was
quite strong, and each time I looked at the work she'd done without
commenting, relying on my poker face not to give anything away, and she
would kneel and look up at me nervously, probably wondering if I was
satisfied with her progress.  I wanted her to keep wondering, so without a
word I would leave her alone again.

But it was hard to stay silent after I had seen what she was doing.  I'd
expected her to fill the space with random designs or little drawings of
simple things, but she was actually working on something big, something that
snaked from one corner to the opposite.  It was rough, badly drawn in
places, and smudged from where she had crawled over it, but it was
recognizable as a large dragon and I was amazed.  She had more talent than
either of us had given her credit for, and I was happy to see her put in
such effort.

Speaking of effort, it was one for me to tear myself away from watching her
in order to cook supper.  I was tempted to order out and thought, 'why not?'
I called for pizza from our regular place, asking for our regular delivery
guy.  Then I went back to the window to watch her some more.

She looked so beautiful, hunched over, her pony tail coming slowly apart,
her body covered in sweat that made her skin look like it was glowing.  All
over her there were also smudges of color from the chalk, on her hips and
legs, especially her knees, and on her forearms and hands.  I was surprised
to see chalk on her face until I saw her brushing a fly from her cheek.  But
I wasn't surprised to see her nipples a multicolored mess for to bend down
as low as she had to it was inevitable that she would brush her breasts
against the concrete at some point.  In fact, that was one of the reasons
I'd put her hands in such chains in the first place.  She turned and I had
to smile, for there were smudge marks on her butt as well.  I wondered how
they got there.

Entranced, I watched her until the doorbell rang and then I went to greet
our favorite pizza guy, inviting him in to see the show.  Now, you might
think it strange that I would do that, but we had a sort of an arrangement.
This was the lucky guy who'd delivered the first pizza to us after she had
moved in.  I had made her accept the delivery and pay for it naked as a
punishment, embarrassing the hell out of her, but I wasn't quite done.  As
the guy was leaving with a big grin on his face, I intercepted him at his
car and had a quick talk with him.  I asked him if he'd had fun, he did.  I
then asked for and got his name.  Then I told him that if he kept quiet
about what he saw when he delivered here, that we would ask for him
exclusively and he would get to see a lot more; but make a noise and I would
be very unhappy.  Now people always seemed to understand what I meant by my
being unhappy, and few ever wanted to test that state of mind.  This guy
wasn't one of them.  He wasn't stupid, he knew he was on to a good thing,
especially when I tipped him a twenty each time he came.  So from that point
on he did all our deliveries and got to see my love in all her loveliness,
which always embarrassed the hell out of her.

 From time to time, when she was indisposed, I'd have to answer the door
myself after pulling on a pair of shorts, and if prudent I'd ask the guy in
to see what she was doing.  Of course, she wouldn't know he was there and as
far as I know she never would know.  But I knew it was an extra special
treat for this kid and he always went away smiling.

Now I don't know if he confessed what he was seeing to a few of his buddies
or not, I know that I would have a hard time keeping a secret like this.
But after a year there had been no problems, so I wasn't worried.

This night, we stood on the other side of the tinted window from her and
talked casually about how she looked, something we had started to do only
recently.  He was polite about it, never resorting to crude language or
descriptions, and I could tell he was aroused as well he should have been.
And he had a big grin when I finally got him out of the house again.

I was smiling myself while I put food on some plates and carried them
outside, and when she saw it was pizza she turned a bright red.

"Did he?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Did he what?" I replied, taking a bite from a slice of heaven.

She hesitated, and then shook her head, "Nothing."

I knew she was mortified at the thought of maybe being seen.  I chuckled,
inside that is.

I fed her by hand as was my custom and afterwards I set her back to work.
Her drawing was coming along really well, with the dragon fleshed out, green
scales and all.  It was still rather crude but the attempt showed care and a
plan.  There was still a lot of space to fill though.  I also wondered why
she had picked a dragon to draw, but as before I said nothing about it
except "Get back to work!"

She bowed and said, "Yes, Oh Master of the Pizza," before turning away with
a smile.

I chuckled and headed back inside.

I deliberately left her alone this time, going into my den to do some work.
What I really ended up doing was playing some computer games, anything to
take my mind off of what was happening outside.  I was therefore quite
surprised when a few hours later I heard her crawling into the room.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Done,Sir.  Do you want to come see?" she asked.

I blinked, "Really?  You're done?"

She gave me a look, one that women do so well and I knew not to doubt her
ever again.  So with a smile I found my keys and unlocked the chains that
kept her legs from straightening, and turned them into a hobble chain
instead.

She stretched in relief before standing with my help, and she shuffled along
behind me back out to the patio.

She hadn't quite filled the square, but it was good enough, and it looked
great, considering how she wasn't really an artist.
A large dragon snaked from one corner, diagonally across the square to the
other corner.  While in the two empty corners two smaller dragons lay curled
up.  Empty space was filled with drawings of flowers and what looked like
birds although the jury is still out on that one.  And there were even small
houses dotted around.  It was a fantastic effort, I couldn't have asked for
more from her.  I was very proud.  But I still didn't let it show, and I
knew she was worried about that.

I turned and took her by the arm, walking her over until she stood right in
the middle of her drawing.  She was filthy, covered in chalk and sweat and a
little mud from the flower bed; a multicolored mess yet lovely all the same.
She looked wonderful standing on her dragons.  I didn't take my eyes off her
as I reached for the hose I had set up earlier.

"You need a bath," I said as I turned it on.

I washed her down with the hose, spraying her bare body as she stood there
shivering.  The water cascaded down her elegant body before pooling at her
feet and running to the edge of the patio in a rainbow-like swirl.  In a
couple of minutes she was clean and I put the hose away before gathering a
towel to dry her.  As I dried her I held her close, standing with her on the
remains of her drawing, loving her.

For some reason she was crying, and the closeness I felt for her almost made
me cry too.  But I still had one thing left to ask her.

"What did you learn today?" I asked softly, holding her tenderly.

She looked up at me, eyes red, hands still chained to her collar, before
stepping back and looking down at what remained of her hours of work.

She sniffed and said, "What did I learn?  I learned that sometimes you can
be a real shit!"  And then she hobbled into the house, leaving me alone in
the setting sun.

Like I said, sometimes things don't work out the way you plan.

Be prepared.




End.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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