On my second visit the elevator was already familiar, as was that feeling of dread that I experienced the first time. Only this time it was tempered with a knowledge of what lay ahead for me, or at least what I thought lay ahead for me. And I think that was what kept my stomach in a know. Not truly knowing where the limits were. Knowing instead that this woman set new limits with every breath. She sized me up quickly last week and pushed me past what I thought I'd be willing to do. And now that she held her videotape of me, we both knew that she held the cards.
I knew when the doors open that I would do what she wanted to avoid having that tape sent out. Even worse, I knew I would do anything she even without the tape. I was addicted. Not addicted to something as simple as sex. But addicted to the adrenaline rush of going further than I normally would go. Addicted to the knowledge that I would push what ever taboos she wanted me to. Addicted to being someone else's toy.
The elevator slowed quickly and once again opened up to her austere apartment. The same leather and chrome furniture The same elegant furnishings. The same high tech flat screen monitor that I had watched the actions of her other pets, not realizing she was taping me in the same way she had taped them. Not realizing that the man who appeared from nowhere and offered me his cock to suck was the same man in the movie and was probably held under the same sway with which she held me.
I turned at the sound of her voice. "I'm so glad you could make it John. For a brief moment I thought that you had forsaken me." I smiled, wondering. My lips opened, but without the bravado I thought I'd bring to my voice. "I'm here." Is all that came out.
"I'm glad." She paused. "John. The reason I video people is really for my own pleasure. The reason I used it to get you back is because that is what you want. That is for your pleasure. We both know you want to be pushed, to go further than you would go before. To know that you're spiraling out of control without a net."
"Will I ever get that tape?"
"You will." She paused, "You know John, at some point, you wouln't ever want that tape. Because you'll be enjoying yourself far to much."
I knew she was right.
"Sex is just sex. But erotica. That's the greatest drug ever. And it is the most addictive. And that is what this is about. It's not sex. It's pure unadulterated desire."
"Can I get you a scotch?" She asked.
I was leary at this offer buy nodded gracefully. She poured the amber liquor into a tumbler and handed it to me. As she stepped back her hand untied the single string that held her outfit together, allowing it to fall open. Her entire nakedness was open to me. Her rounded breasts and dark brown aureoles hung in a simple statement of power. Her coifed patch of pubis stood out in contrast to her lightly tanned legs and belly. Her curves spoke of beauty, strength and pleasure. All framed in a long black robe that almost touched the floor.
"Go ahead, take a sip. Sit down and enjoy." I did. Easing myself back into the quilted leather of her chaise. I watched as her hand found her sex, slowly massaging it. She raised it to her lips and tasted herself. Seductively taking her finger into her mouth. Letting her tongue linger over it as she withdrew it. She placed her foot on the coffee table, a consortium of glass and cherry. Her hand never left her body as we spoke.
