Authors Note: This is the first chapter of a longer story, following Carla's journey into submission. Although the build up of the story is gradual, there is still plenty of action along the way. A special thank you to Mike, who has given me a huge amount of help and guidance on my writing journey.
Thank you for reading.
*****
My best friend Suzanne bounded into the South London apartment we rented together after she'd finished work, her hazel eyes lit up like a bonfire.
"You'll never guess what's happened!"
Suzanne worked as a private tutor, a job that certainly allowed her to see more of upper class England than I could've conceived possible. I couldn't imagine a more mundane job; however it seemed she had a pretty sweet deal. She seemed to do more wining and dining with the elite than actual teaching. By now I knew her routine all too well; I'd lost count of the number of times she'd dashed into the living room to tell me about some stately home she'd visited.
I barely looked up from the magazine I was reading. "What is it now?"
"I'll tell you in a second. We both need a drink first." She sauntered into the kitchen, before returning with a wine bottle and two glasses.
"Now this is going to sound like a really weird question, but I'm going to ask it anyway." She splashed a generous amount of scarlet liquid into a glass and thrust it into my palms. "What do you think about being tied up? In bed I mean?"
My cheeks bulged as I almost spat out my mouthful of wine. "What kind of question is that, Suze? And why would I tell you that kind of thing anyway?"
She smirked, enjoying my shyness. "You're my best friend, Carla. We've discussed far worse things before. Besides, there's a reason I'm asking. You know that family I just started working for?"
"Those people that live way outside the city? I thought you'd be bored of working for such pretentious people by now, Suze."
"Oh, it'll be a while before that happens." She ran her fingers through her brunette hair, before leaning into me. She was so close that I could make out the musky remnants of her perfume. "Besides, these guys have a weirder skeleton in their closet than you could possibly imagine."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I kind of stumbled across it by accident. I was shit scared at first. I was looking for the bathroom, but took a wrong turn. Their house is so damn big."
"What did you find?"
She took a long sip from her glass. "It was like some sort of sex dungeon. Have you ever read Fifty Shades? Well, think of Christian's red room, only this was way more extreme."
"I would've got out of there as quickly as I could."
"That was my initial thought, too. But then I got kind of curious. It's amazing how much of a turn on it was to actually see those things in the flesh."
"Let me guess. You ended up shackling yourself to the ceiling." Suzanne had always been pretty open about her sexuality, yet I was sure this had to be part of some bizarre set-up on her part.
"Not quite. I was looking around when all of a sudden I heard the door open behind me. I turned round and it's Kirsten - the woman of the household. I don't think I've ever been more embarrassed."
The crafty smile on her face told me she was no longer embarrassed at all by what had transpired. "What did she say? I bet she couldn't run you out the house quick enough."
"You'd think that, but she was totally open about it. She said she and her husband, Malachi, like to play different power games, to spice things up in their day to day lives."
"Sounds like they do a little bit more than just spice things up."
"You're telling me. Anyway, this is where it got really interesting. She could tell how curious I was, and started going on about how they're part of this elite club that hold kinky sex parties once a month. Members take it in turns to host the parties and it's their turn to host next week."
Surely she realised her story had long passed the point of believability. I rolled my eyes at her. "And I bet you've got an invite to the next one."
"Not only that." She flashed her teeth at me as a grin spread across her face. "She said I could bring a friend, too."
The next week was torture for me. I'd been convinced that the whole thing was a ruse on Suzanne's part to lure some dark secret about my sexuality from me. Unfortunately for her, I knew her too well to fall into that trap. However, as the week went on and she began to reveal more facts about the party, it became apparent that she was not talking complete fantasy.
On Tuesday, she'd snuck behind me while I was doing the washing up in the kitchen.
"So, I spoke to Kirsten today," she said, grabbing a wooden spoon from the draining board and giving me a playful slap on the behind. "I found out some more details about the party."
"Really?" I just missed as I tried to flick some water into her eyes. "The party that's going on in your head you mean?"
"That's what you think," she replied, splashing me back. "Apparently, there's going to be some sort of entertainment; a live demonstration with people getting tied up and stuff. It's going to be so hot, Carla."
I knew she was teasing, but what my best friend didn't know was that I'd carried out a little of my own research. My internet browsing history was not something I'd want on public display. I'd been loosely aware of the connotations of BDSM before, but now I'd seen picture after picture of women being teased and tormented, I had to admit I agreed with Suzanne - it was hot.
On Wednesday, we'd been in the living room, watching some chick flick DVD for what felt like the thousandth time.
"One other thing about the party," Suzanne said. "Apparently, they have private rooms available for guests to use. Just think, Carla, if you meet someone nice, you'd have no excuse for not getting your rocks off!"
"Whatever, Suze," I replied flippantly. "Even if I did meet someone, I'm not the kind of girl who jumps into bed with someone straight away. You should know that by now."
"Of course I know it. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it's about time you left to join the local nunnery. How long has it been now?"
My face didn't show it, but her comments stung. It'd been so long since I'd been intimate with a man that I'd almost forgotten what it felt like. My sexual experiences up to that point had been so disappointing that I'd never really felt like I was missing out though. That was in complete contrast to Suzanne of course, who radiated bliss at the mere mention of her carnal exploits.
What I'd never mention to Suzanne however, was that she'd actually opened a door in my mind. As the week progressed, my late night internet forays became the highlight of my evening. It had got to the point that the thought of going to the party had gone from one of utter repulsion, to one of genuine interest.
The worst bit wasn't admitting to myself I was turned on by it, though. The worst bit was as my hand had slipped inside my panties for the umpteenth time that week, I imagined myself in those positions. What was happening to me? I knew I wasn't compulsive enough to trot off to some private room with someone I'd just met, but at the same, I yearned for more. My mind would never be truly at rest until I knew how the woman in those panty-saturating images felt.
When Saturday came, I didn't put up much of a fight as Suzanne picked out a dress for me. Generally speaking, I wasn't the kind of girl who liked to show a lot of skin, especially when paddling into unchartered waters as I was tonight. However, if there was one person who wouldn't stand for my prudishness, it was my best friend. The cream coloured dress she chose fell far enough down my thighs to be sexy, but still sophisticated. It was sleeveless, and was adorned with pretty little sequins around the collarbone area. I certainly felt more confident when Suzanne wolf-whistled me as I stepped into the living room before we departed.
However, as our journey through the idyllic English countryside went on, that confidence drained from me like water through a sieve I knew I was stepping a million miles out of my comfort zone. As we finally pulled onto a gravel drive way, Suzanne seemed to sense my apprehension. "Don't worry. If it's really weird, we can leave straight away. Kirsten said we don't have to do anything other than watch. You don't have anything to worry about."
We continued up the driveway and the house came into view. The large, glamorous residence matched the picture painted in my head. I would've guessed the architecture was Victorian, and the large circular lawn out front gave the impression of a far more impressive garden round the back. This was the first time I'd ever been anywhere grandiose enough to have 'side parking' for visitors, and as I stepped out of Suzanne's rusting Ford Fiesta, I couldn't help but feel a little out of place.
Even with a cool breeze ruffling my blonde hair, the hubbub of conversation was unmistakable as we approached the house. With the blinds drawn, a stranger would be oblivious to what was going on inside though. As we waited at the front door, my heart pounded against my ribcage. An electrifying mixture of chemicals surged through my veins as curiosity and fear swayed my emotions. I couldn't take much more suspense.
Finally the door swung open.
"Suzanne! I'm so glad you could make it." A radiant, golden-haired woman stood before us. Her attire left me in no doubt that this was a special occasion. Her dark dress fell to the floor and hugged her figure so tightly that she must have been poured into it.
If Suzanne felt nervous, it certainly didn't show. "Thank you for inviting us, Mrs Hutchinson," she turned to me. "This is my friend Carla. She's just as interested in all this as I am."
