At breakfast the next morning Nigel had seemed quiet, even coy, avoiding her eyes. He seemed to want to speak but when he opened his mouth no sounds came out and his jaw snapped swiftly shut again each time.
"Go on," Anja said, sitting down across the table from him. "Ask the question."
"You know what, umm, I'll say..."
"Perhaps, but you still have to say it."
He hesitated and looked down at his bowl. "I was wondering, umm, if... I mean will we, umm, again...?"
She smiled at him. "I was thinking about that, last night - afterwards. And it was fun last night, a lot of fun, but I know what you want, Nigel, and I'm not really the person to give it to you."
"Oh." He looked crestfallen.
She laughed at him, "Don't worry, I'll make sure that you're... satisfied. Are you around all day today?"
"I'm out for dinner and I'm supposed to be out for lunch. But I can cancel it, if..."
"No, you go to lunch, but don't go straight on for your evening do – pop back in here for about four, OK?"
He nodded.
"And one thing: promise me that you'll phone before you get back, when you're, say, ten minutes away. OK?"
He nodded again
For Nigel, the rest of the morning and lunch seemed strange times. He had a fidgety impatience, and an energy that he was not accustomed to. He wanted to get back to Anja's house, and at a quarter to four he rang her to say that he was perhaps five or ten minutes from her. She gave no clues on the phone as to why she had wanted the call, but when he got there she was waiting for him by the door.
Inside in the hall she spoke in a whisper: "I have a present for you."
"Hmm. Good." He smiled sheepishly as he extended his hand towards her waist.
"No!" She brushed him away. "It's in my bedroom."
"What?"
"You have to walk into my room, and just look. Do not say anything, and do not do anything or touch anything, alright? You can look, but nothing else, and you must stay in there a full minute and no more. Yes?"
"Umm... alright." Look but no more, stay in a full minute...? He had no idea what she was talking about, but he followed her up the stairs, and when she reached the top and gestured to a door which stood ajar, he walked through.
And his jaw dropped.
Anja pulled the door shut from the landing, leaving him inside the room, but he was not alone.
Stretched out face down on the broad bed was a slender, blonde woman, perhaps in her mid twenties, not entirely naked. She wore a pair of knee-high black high-healed boots, a heavy black leather collar, a black silk scarf wrapped around her face to blindfold her, and four broad leather cuffs – one about each wrist, and one at each ankle over the boots. A chain stretched from each cuff to the corner of the bed, so that she was held spread-eagled, her head turned to look blindly towards the door.
Nigel's immediate thought was that he should let her go, set her free, and he took a step towards her. But Anja had said that he should touch nothing, and in the back of his head a low growl of lust suggested that perhaps he did not want her to be free. He halted, and let his eyes wander down the arch of her back to her firm and inviting buttocks, and his mind raced: What was she doing here? What was Anja up to? But as his mind puzzled his body formed a different response, and he felt his cock starting to strain at his boxers, swelling rapidly. What did this girl want? He looked up at her face, trying to read her expression despite her covered eyes, and he saw her licking her parted lips.
Then she spoke, her whisper almost a whine. "You're there aren't you?" She sighed, and twitched her hips, drawing Nigel's attention down to her spread thighs, her shaven pussy gaping wantonly. "You're watching me?" Her hips moved more definitely and she almost whimpered.
Nigel felt his shaft harden further, and overcome by confusion he fled the room.
Anja was standing in the doorway to the spare room, a big grin across her face, and she beckoned him in, closing the door after him so that their voices would not carry out of the room. "Well?" she asked.
"There's a girl...naked!" Nigel fumbled for words.
"I know. She's waiting for you."
"But why?"
"Because she wants you to use her!"
"Use her? That sounds... terrible!"
"Does it?" Anja rised her eyebrows. "Last night, on that bed there, you said what?"
"That I wanted to..."
"Say it!"
"To... fuck you." He blushed deeply.
"Like what?"
"Like... like a bitch!" He looked at her defiantly now.
"Mm-hm." She smiled at the memory, and stretched her hand out to press the bulge at the front of his trousers. "And now you want to do far worse to her, don't you?"
Nigel struggled for an answer. "But what do I do?"
"Anything you want! And I mean anything – you can do whatever you want to her so long as you do no lasting damage and you untie her when you're done. That's the point. I've asked her round here because I know that she likes men who are... animals. And I've told her that you're the foulest animal I've ever come across!"
"But I'm not!"
"Oh yes you are, you just don't know it yet!"
"But what if I do something she doesn't like."
"She'll tell you: she'll call Red Light – that's her phrase to tell you to stop."
"Why not just say Stop?"
"Because, Nigel, if she says Stop, it's just a way of begging for more! Now get in. And Nigel, don't just do Anything you want to her. Do Everything you want to her! That's what she's waiting for!"
Stepping back into the main bedroom, he closed the door softly behind him, his heart pounding in his chest, still fearful that he did not know what to do. The girl heard him and squirmed slightly, though she could barely move. He smiled. He liked watching her, and he could see her tilting her head to listen for his movements.
He paused for a moment, wanting her to wait, and watched her squirm. Her belly and her thighs rubbed the cotton sheet, and as she tested the restraints he caught glimpses of a breast, small and firm, her nipple dark and prominent. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and he imagined grabbing it in his fist and pulling her head to his now rock-hard cock. He smiled with the thought and found his hand rubbing the front of his trousers. He could do anything he wanted - he realised it was true. He could just stand here all day and watch the girl wriggle, or he could take her now however he wanted.
He unzipped his trousers, as slowly and quietly as he could, and released his shaft, stroking it gently in his hand. His eyes feasted on her tender flesh as he worked himself gently, until suddenly she spoke, whispering "You're touching yourself!"
"Quiet!" he hissed, without thinking, and immediately feared that he had caused offence.
But the girl just smiled and murmured "Sorry, Master."
"What?"