My story continues; thank you to everyone who told me how much they liked 'Beginnings', without which this will not make as much sense. I can only hope that this matches your expectations.
*
The room was dominated by a four-poster bed, heavy and solid in dark wood. Set on a deep pile circular rug. There were two large sash windows through which the November sun shone. Looking out, Nicole could see out over trees and fields. The curtains were deep red, heavy velvet. Another curtain, the same colour, covered almost the whole width of the wall facing the foot of the bed. The floor was light wood, polished boards with a deep rug.
'It's beautiful...' Nicole was overwhelmed. Anne was behind her, her arms wrapped around Nicole's waist. She kissed Nicole's neck, her breath warming the skin.
'Thank you. I've taken a lot of time on this room. But you must need to freshen up. The bathroom is across the landing. I'll leave something for you on the bed to wear . Come down when you've finished.'
Nicole had shut the bathroom door and was running water in the bath; she'd even poured some expensive-looking bath foam into the steaming water when she realised that she was still wearing Anne's collar and bracelets. She didn't think that soaking them in hot water would do them any good, and she was part loath to spoil them, part afraid of the consequences if she did. She doubted that Anne would appreciate being called, so she decided to bathe carefully, keeping the leather dry. Washing her hair was the hardest, wrapping it tightly in a towel afterwards seemed to work. It was difficult and slow, but eventually she felt clean. The time alone felt awkward. She was trying to think. Everything seemed so confusing. She'd never have thought that she'd enjoy being bound, never have considered sex with another woman. But she didn't feel guilty, as she had expected, just pleasantly warm from the orgasm. Was it because she had been bound, that it wasn't really her fault? Was it really her? Did it matter? The answers never came, the questions stopped making sense.
Wrapped in a big, soft towel, she walked into the bedroom. There was a pair of dusky pink satin pyjamas on the bed. A hairdryer was lying next to it. Brushing her hair, she snagged the collar. She'd forgotten it completely again. She wouldn't have believed that would be possible, but now she was suddenly acutely aware of it and her bracelets. She wondered what Anne had done with the key.
Anne was downstairs. Despite her elation, she was worried. Nicole had taken to the collar more naturally than she could ever have hoped. She had worried before about whether she would be rejected, then about whether the reality of binding and whipping her would match up to her fantasies and her imagination. It had, but there was something about the early stages that made her insecure. She wasn't sure what to try next. She might leave that to Nicole; she might not know what she wanted, but it would be best to let her set the pace. Not that it would do to tell her that. Not yet anyway. She smiled to herself and walked to the cupboard. There were some pains au chocolat that would make a good lunch.
Nicole waked slowly down the stairs, following the tantalising scent of warm pastry and chocolate. She called out to her friend, not sure where the kitchen was. Hearing her, Anne realised that she'd never shown Nicole the way to the kitchen, and opened the door.
'That smells really good.' Nicole realised that she hadn't eaten yet that day.
'How do you feel?'
'Wonderful, but very hungry.'
There was a slight defensiveness, as if neither was entirely willing to bring up the subject of what they'd just done. Nicole was a little confused. The collar and bracelets close, almost comforting. Anne just seemed to be watching her with those deep brown eyes. It felt odd to be sitting here, eating pains au chocolat, drinking black coffee as if it was a normal Saturday morning. She felt she had to say something.
'What are your plans for this weekend?' She regretted the question instantly. She hadn't meant to blurt it out quite like that. The answer was little comfort.
'That's for me to know and you to find out.' Anne was playing with her. She loved watching her friend's response. She held her friend's gaze until Nicole's eyes dropped. This was her opportunity.
'Please, do not be impertinent.'
'Sorry, Mistress.'
Nicole was slipping back. Her breathing was faster. She could feel her chest tensing. Anne reached across the table, cupping Nicole's chin in her left hand, lifting it to bring her eyes back into contact.
'I will continue to enjoy you as I did this morning. You will learn just what it is to serve me. I will bring you to the deepest and most meaningful submission that you have ever felt and you will beg me for more.'
Nicole swallowed hard. She was torn between intrigue, arousal, lust and fear. The fear only served to spur her on more. She was becoming intoxicated with desire. She felt herself slip off the chair and fall to her knees, as she had knelt, naked that morning.
'Please teach me the meaning of submission, Mistress. I am your willing slave.'
'Stand up. Go next door. You will recognise the room. Strip and await me. On your knees.'
'Hurry up. I don't enjoy repeating myself.' The menace was clear, and Anne was pointing to a door. Nicole had not expected this rejection. If it was rejection, she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting. She stood, and headed through the indicated door, into the old stable room. It shut behind her, closing heavily. The pale sunlight filtered through the small barred window, high on the wall, giving a soft, cold light.
She pulled off the pyjamas, folding them carefully. She wasn't sure why, but it seemed the right thing to do. Feeling the chill of the air on her skin, she knelt. She wasn't sure what to do with her arms. Guessing, she crossed her wrists at the small of her back as she had done before. The feeling of exposure was overwhelming. The feel of Anne's whip was a fresh memory. She was not looking forward to another whipping. She felt open, remembering the feeling of the intruder in her behind. That had been the first time that she had ever had anything here. Those parts of 'The Story of O' had always horrified her and aroused her in equal measures. It wasn't just the sort of thing that nice girls didn't do. It was just too depraved. None of her friends had ever talked about it. She couldn't even remember Anne mentioning it. But it had felt exquisite; the mix of pleasure with just the smallest twinge of pain. Still she waited.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't even hear Anne's return. She didn't know how long she had waited. It felt like hours that she had knelt on the cold stone floor. The blood was pounding in her ears, and her arms and thighs ached.
'What am I going to do with you?' Anne's voice cut through the air.
Nicole did not know how to respond. She hoped the question was rhetorical.
'Putting it another way, do you know what I am going to do to you?'
'No, Mistress.' She really didn't know. She couldn't guess. She could think of some possibilities, but they were all too terrible to contemplate, but too delicious to ignore. She craved the pain, the humiliation that she feared. She shuddered, not daring to turn her head.
