My Mountain Submissive

Candy sensed me looking her up and down with the disdain barely hidden on my face, and feebly tried to cover herself with her hands, sarcastically commenting "Well if I'm so gross you sure can't seem to take your eyes off me, pervert!"

I shook my head and responded, "Your attitude is going to change, Candy; I'll see to that," as I unwound the hose from a hanger on the side of the cabin, and I could tell she was unnerved by my calm confidence, and the failure of her repeated barbs to have any effect on me. "Now take this cleanser and be ready to rub in all over yourself after I hose you off. It needs to stay on for at least 20 seconds and then I'll rinse it."

She nodded as she picked up the cleanser and I began hosing her off, not even feigning to care how it felt as I first hosed her face before working over the rest of her body. She jumped with a yip upon first feeling the frigid water, and then continued to glare at me as I continued to hose her down like a dog. Goosebumps rapidly appeared on her dripping wet skin, and her nipples stiffened noticably after the cold rinse, looking like pencil erasers protruding from her plump breasts.

I spoke to her as I hosed her off. "Today marks the beginning of your transformation. You have been a selfish girl who cares only about yourself, and that is going to change. You are disobedient and rude, and you have allowed your body to grow out of shape and ugly. As you saw yesterday there isn't a single person in the world who likes the person you've been enough to help you when you needed it so desperately. And ultimately all this selfishness hasn't even brought you happiness and fulfillment, but it's left you empty, unhappy and alone." Candy glared at me as I spoke, surely dying to fire off a barrage of insults at me but recognizing that she was in too precarious a position to do so.

I plugged the hose while Candy began to scrub the sanitizing cleanser all over her body. Starting with her hair and working quickly through her arms and legs. As she began to lather up her torso, she briefly shot me a mischievous look, and then began to soap up her breasts more slowly and sensually, lifting and squeezing each breast with her hands, before deliberately massaging her hands around them in tightening circles until she arrived at her areolas, shutting her eyes as she traced the dark skin delicately with her fingers, before squeezing her nipples between her thumb and index finger.

I didn't fall for her little manipulation game for a minute, and when she next glanced at me to gauge my reaction to her display, I gave her a look of utter boredom and disinterest, and yawned. She grunted angrily at the failure of her pathetic crack at seduction, and hurriedly scrubbed the rest of her body, standing while I counted off 20 before again firehosing her again in the face and then on down the rest of her body.

I shut the water off and shouted "there's a towel inside the cabin", and she ran inside to find the single, undersized bath towel hanging beside the tub in the single room cabin. She toweled off and attempted to wrap the small towel around her chest but it was too small, so she awkwardly attempted to hold it in place as she walked back out to the porch and asked "where are the clothes?"

I responded, "There aren't any. I'll bring you something tomorrow, as well as some food, but in the meantime you'll just have to make do. There are clean blankets on the bed and a woodstove in the corner- do you need me to start it for you?"

Candy looked annoyed by the thought of going without clothes, but nodded and stepped to the side as I brusquely walked past her into the cabin. It was a quaint home, originally built 150 years before and meticulously renovated, retaining its original character while better insulating the structure and replacing the roof and rotted beams with new material. On the right there was a small kitchen and two-person dining table in the rear corner, and a woodstove alongside a comfortable armchair and small bookshelf in the front. On the left was a small bed, a large antique clawfoot tub, and a water closet with a toilet (an upgrade added during my recent renovation). Décor was sparse: a shelf in the kitchen with a few plates, glasses, and cookware; a few old books on the bookshelf along with a couple knick-knacks I had found on the property, and simple curtains on the windows. Solar power panels on the roof powered the cabin, its small fridge, one overhead light fixture in the center of the room, and two small table lamps beside the bed and armchair.

I loaded a few pieces of wood and kindling into the stove, and lit a match to light a fire inside the stove. Watching it as the fire grew I said "There's more wood on the porch. You'll want to add a log or two every hour, and then a few just before you go to sleep so you don't wake up freezing. Nights up here are colder than what we're used to, even in the springtime." I shut the stove door and returned to the porch. "Not another human soul within 20-25 miles from here, but there's a lock on the door. I don't recommend wandering off as it's easy to get lost up here, and there are bears and other animals in these mountains. Like I said, there's clean bedding on the bed and another blanket in the closet if you need it- I'll bring some food by tomorrow, but in the meantime the water is pure."

The sun was dipping below the adjacent mountain peak as I walked back to my vehicle, with Candy still on the porch trying to hold up her small towel. There were no goodbyes from me or thank-you's from her, and I was fine with that. I pulled a tight circle in the clearing beside the cabin and returned to the trail to make my way up to the main house, not looking back.

---

I settled into the leather armchair with a glass of bourbon- freshly clean after a long shower- and gazed through the main house's expansive rear windows to see the distant mountain peaks bathed in the light of dusk. I took a sip and exhaled, trying to release the stresses of the last few months and the unexpected events of the day. I thought about my kids, missing them and wishing they were here with me, running and playing in the spacious house I had built with them in mind.

After a few moments I picked up a tablet and briefly scanned the day's news, and updates from my social media network. Finally, I made a distinct swipe gesture on the screen and it triggered a hidden app to open, providing access to dozens of wireless cameras scattered across the property. I first clicked on a folder containing the motion-sensitive perimeter cameras and they were all operational, picking up a few wild animals over the last few days but nothing else. Then I clicked on a folder labeled "river house" and it pulled up three cameras from the cabin where I had left Candy- one hidden in a corner above the kitchen providing a full view of the cabin's interior- from the bed on one side to the woodstove and small armchair on the other- and two outside on opposite corners of the home with 270-degree lens providing full coverage of the surrounding forest and river between them.

The thermometer on the camera read 8 degrees, a little warm but not concerning since the temperature outside would soon be dropping rapidly at our mountain altitude. Candy lay naked on her stomach atop the covers on the bed, with her feet in the air behind her casually swaying back and forth, and her upper body propped up on her elbows with her breasts hanging below her, pressed together between her arms. She was paging through one of the books, and appeared to have taken a bath as her long brown hair was wet and laying flat against her bare upper back.

I rewound the feed and found nothing of interest; she had entered the cabin soon after I left, dropped the towel and looked around. She then stepped back outside to the front porch and looked at the surrounding forest, sitting for a time on the rocking chair and gazing at the meandering river just steps from the cabin. The river house was my favorite of the historic cabins, as it sat so close to the water in a secluded gulley between two mountain ridges. Looking to the right from the porch you could see a small cascading waterfall, which produced the most relaxing sound I had ever heard- when staying at the cabin in the summer I often left the window open so I could fall asleep to the waterfall's soft bubbling melody. The river then collected into a small pool in front of the house- a nice swimming hole I had enjoyed on many a warm summer afternoon, before picking up speed again to the left of the porch and continuing around the bend of the mountain. It was brimming with trout and you could practically cast your line from the porch. It was a headwater tributary of the French Broad River, and I liked to think about the fact that if you followed it downstream it soon grew into a mighty flow of water, eventually merging with the Tennessee River, then the Ohio, and then finally the Mississippi after a thousand miles or so, thus connecting my little property to pretty much anywhere in the world. I also appreciated the fact that the river flowed west, into the mountains as opposed to the lower coastal elevations and population centers most people would have assumed it to flow toward; to me it was emblematic of the property itself, which looked to the mountains as an escape from the civilized world.

There was nothing else of note on the camera's history- Candy drank several glasses of water, fed wood into the stove several times, and as I had suspected took a long bath in the soaking tub. Returning to the live feed, I saw that she had turned off the light and climbed under the covers. It was barely 9:00 but she must have been exhausted after the long day and staying up the prior night, and besides, it was only natural to adapt to the circadian rhythms of the surrounding wilderness, falling asleep with the darkness and rising with the morning light. I too felt the pull of sleep weighing on me, and finished my whiskey before heading to bed.

---

The next day I woke at dawn and spent much of the morning doing work at the main house and in the valley below, where there were growing crops that I had paid day laborers to plant and tend to this spring before dismissing them just a few days prior. I took inventory the stockpile of supplies in the basement of the mainhouse and storage loft of the adjacent barn to ensure I didn't have any final remaining needs to address before global supply chains began to shut down. I checked the tablet while eating lunch and was pleased to see that my sister and her family, as well as a close childhood friend of mine and his wife and children, had written that they planned to join me in the compound in the next few weeks; I encouraged them to hurry, sensitive to the risks of delay, and began thinking through preparations for their arrival. This had clear implications for Candy: I would only have a few weeks to work with her to mold her into someone I would want to keep around, or cut her loose if she was unwilling or unable to undergo the level of transformation required. I thought about the approach I would take with her as I finished eating, checking the cabin's cameras to see what she had been up to so far that day.

That afternoon I pulled up outside Candy's cabin and she came out to the porch, wrapping the blanket from the bed around her. "Take that blanket back inside," I barked at her, "You're going to make it filthy."

She appeared to growl and stomped back through the door, returning a moment later with the skimpy towel partially covering her nakedness. "Where are my clothes?", she demanded haughtily. "And you said you'd bring food; I'm starving!"

I looked her up and down with a condescending glare and shot back, "You sure don't look like you're starving," and in response she shifted the towel to better hide the layer of pudge around her waist. Then I locked eyes with her and in a firm voice said "And that is no way to talk to the man who you hope will house, clothe, feed and protect you. You agreed yesterday that I am completely in charge and you would obey me without question. Not the other way around."

Her eyes averted mine and her tone softened a bit, mumbling "I'm sorry" under her breath.

"What?" I barked back.

"I'm sorry" she said more audibly.

"Why are you sorry?" I asked, needing to drive home the point if we were to make any progress at all.

She rolled her eyes slightly and shuffled her feet; no doubt she was hating me for forcing her to submit in this way. But eventually she looked up at me and said "I'm sorry because I promised to be obedient and nice, and I was just rude and ungrateful."

I accepted her response and pulled a small bag out of the car, tossing it onto the porch beside her. She opened it eagerly and began removing the contents, asking "what's this?" as she fumbled with the first few items, with a confused expression.

"That bag contains the bare essentials you need for the time being. As you show progress adapting yourself to better meet my expectations you will earn more."

First out of the bag was a long, loose-fitting tank-top shirt and a flimsy pair of sandals. Candy looked at them with disappointment and then at me. "That will cover your nakedness and allow you to step off the front porch if you want to walk around outside a little. As I said, I have better clothing but you will have to earn it." She sighed and pulled the tank top over her head, grateful to at least be minimally covered; I could see the shape of her breasts and nipples through the thin fabric, and the shirt barely extended below her pussy.

Next were a set of vacuum-packed packages, which she held up with a quizzical look. "That is a week's worth of MREs; they aren't the most delicious things in the world but they will provide you with basic sustenance. I have much more food to offer, but again-"

"I will have to earn it" she finished my sentence, looking at the MREs with a disgusted look on her face and rolling her eyes.

Finally, she pulled a few note pads and writing utensils out of the bag, and once again looked to me for explanation. "And that is your homework to start your transformation. On the miniature notepad I want you to fill every page with something about yourself- an aspect of your personality, something you like or dislike, a memory or experience, or even something about your relationships. One item per page- there are 100 pages so you should have no problem filling them."

"In the larger, bound notebook I want you to begin a daily journal, focused on the person you are about to become. I will give you guidance on what to reflect on and write about, and your first assignment is to write as many ideas as you can about how you can behave in a selfless and devoted way, with full obedience and humility, in your relationship with me moving forward."

"You have plenty of time out here to reflect so I expect you to give adequate time to both assignments. I will be back later this week to check in on you and we can review your progress."

She jumped a step toward me on the porch- "Wait, where are you going? Are you leaving me alone out here?"

"Yes," I calmly replied. "You're in quarantine and to be honest I don't want to be around you anyway until you make some dramatic changes. Use this time productively, devote yourself to this project and fulfilling my expectations of you, and as I said things will get better and more comfortable for you."

"And if I don't?" She asked, with a hint of defiance.

"Then I'll drive you back into town with your knapsack and you can take your chances out there."

She was quiet as I returned to the SUV and drove away, still standing on the porch with the bag in her hand. I knew that the initial stage of her transformation would need to be self-driven; I could not force it upon her but she would need to recognize the emptiness of her life on her own, and feel a genuine desire for something different. Isolation and deprivation was the fastest way to accomplish this- I would leave her for longer than she expected, for days alone and with only the barest of essentials. The solitude would help promote reflection and self-awareness and strip bare her delusions about herself and her life, and limiting her to water and the bare minimum of MREs to provide basic nutrition while providing no enjoyment whatsoever, would in effect put her body into a fasting condition where she would be more open to this kind of unstructured meditation. The deprivation would also provide a baseline for reinforcement of the attitudes and behaviors I wanted to see; Candy was now starting at zero and whether her conditions improved was entirely up to her. I continued along the winding drive back to the main house, wondering how much progress she would make in the coming days with a healthy degree of skepticism.

---

I spent the next few days working outside, checking in online with friends and family, and relaxing after the hectic weeks and months before the evacuation. I was pleased to see the crops showing promise- rows of corn and other vegetables thriving in the small farm that had been planted in the interior valley of the compound on a patch of rich river soil with good sunlight. Additionally, a variety of hardy trees I had planted alongside the meadow in front of the main house years before promised a further bounty of apples, plums, chestnuts and other foods. I had ample supplies to harvest and jar the excess each season to last through the winter into the next year, and was excited about the prospect of achieving some degree of self-sufficiency earlier than I had initially planned for.

I monitored Candy several times a day and she was holding up in isolation- sleeping soundly at night and developing an afternoon nap in her routine, and in between working on her notebooks for a few hours a day. I noticed that she seemed to quickly fill the smaller notebook about herself, but struggled with the assignment in the larger journal- from what I could tell she had only written a few lines in that book after two days, and may times she opened it and sat there for a while, only to shut the book again without adding anything. This was to be expected, I thought to myself; all part of the process.

I was entertained by a fit of screaming I could hear on the camera's small microphone soon after I had departed- she threw the supplies across the room yelling out all manner of profanity about me for several minutes, at one time punching the bed and a few minutes later kicking over one of the dining chairs. It was a full-on tantrum, to be expected in this first stage of her training, and I knew she had to get it out before making any progress. Similar outbursts followed later that evening and in the days that followed, but they gradually grew shorter and less violent, before ending on day 4.

She enjoyed lengthy daily baths in the soaking tub, and even tried skinny-dipping in the river in front of the house- I knew the water to be cold but invigorating and could see her have a similar reaction upon first going in the water, before adjusting to the temperature and swimming around for a few minutes, and occasionally lazing on a large river rock on the edge of the pool. Each time afterwards she ran back into the house and sat naked beside the woodstove, warming herself in its radiant heat.

Candy seemed comfortable frolicking around the house naked, and only wore her tank top part of the time, seemingly less each day. And I could see her forcing herself to eat a few bites at a time from the MREs across the day, before putting them away until hunger forced her to go through the same cycle again. She seemed to enjoy sitting in the cozy armchair beside the woodstove, and reading from the small selection of books on the adjacent shelf to pass the time.