She happened into the doorway of the house, half striding and half stumbling, attempting purposeful but in reality feeling close to broken by the many demands of the day. She had a big job, an important job, where those who did not exude power and confidence were routinely relegated to the menial, and she was not of the personality type to be able to accept that fate.
Stowing her keys and purse, she picked up the day's mail left on the kitchen counter and thumbed through it mindlessly. She seemed to be alone in the house, but obviously someone had been home before her to bring in the mail. With a sigh, she picked up the stoppered bottle of wine on the counter -- just enough for one more glass. Pulling a wine glass from the cabinet, she poured the remains of the liquid relaxation from the bottle, shaking it to get the last ruby colored drop. She felt the day's stress start to melt a bit just anticipating the first sharp and woody taste of the wine, and she was not disappointed. There, that was better.
Now, upstairs to change. She walked into the bedroom and was very surprised at the sight awaiting her in the middle of the bed. Carefully arranged were a red dress that she loved to wear because it made her feel sexy in spite of any evidence to the contrary offered by her stubborn mind and self image; a pair of ridiculously, dangerously high heeled shoes, in a red to match the dress; a red lace garter belt complete with black silk stockings; a red lace half bra that would cup her breasts underneath, offering just enough support while not hiding her nipples at all; and a matching pair of red lace crotchless panties.
Clearly, an evening out was planned. She felt herself begin to become aroused just speculating as to what the other had in mind for later. Smiling as she began to remove the day's work clothes, she walked on into the bathroom. Here she found carefully laid our two razors, a can of shaving cream, and a note with explicit directions to shave all the way from her ankles to her belly button.
Blouse and skirt off, she removed her bra and panties and stepped into the shower with the tools. The first was a standard sized lady's razor, and she slathered shaving cream all the way from her left ankle to her left knee. Drawing the razor up from ankle to knee in long, languid strokes, she quickly smoothed her left calf. Rather than continue up that leg, she turned to the right leg and repeated the process.
Now came the right knee, which required particular detail, and was best handled with somewhat shorter and quicker strokes of the blade. The faster she shaved, as she considered what might be in store for later, the hotter she was getting, and she quickly finished the left knee as well. Now she spread shaving cream on each leg in turn from knee to the top crease where her thigh met her abdomen. The lower part of her thigh gave itself to more languorous stroking, and she began to calm down, though her heart was still racing; but as she reached the upper parts the razor again flew in short, rapid bursts. Anticipating the next made her nearly collapse from the weight of her arousal.
The second razor had a tiny head, all the better for getting into particularly tight spaces. She regularly shaved her mound, but hadn't done so in almost a week, leaving a strange, stubbly feeling to her skin. She spread the shaving cream all the way from her asshole to the front of her mound. The bikini razor started at the edges closest to thigh, stroking evenly and firmly, insisting on the submission of the hairs around her slit, moving closer to the center until she was entirely clean. The thought of what he would think when he saw made her careful to get everything naked and ready for his appreciative gaze; the thought of what he would do if he were not pleased made her double check her work. Thinking of either made her hotter still. She was so turned on that she longed to slide something into her aching pussy, but she knew better. Certain pleasures were, in her world, privileges to be earned.
Stepping from the shower, she toweled her hair and then the rest of her body. She loved the process of getting done up for some unknown pleasure, and took extra care with both hair and makeup. When satisfied that she had made herself as alluring as possible, she strode naked into the bedroom and began to dress. The panties left her feeling vulnerable and tawdry, but the initial brief wave of embarrassment she always felt faded quickly into the memory of the effect that those panties never failed to have on sexual partners.
Now came the bra, and she smiled down at her breasts, so perky and utterly unprotected, on display for the pleasure of anyone who cared to look closely enough at the thin fabric of the dress yet to come. The garter belt was her personal favorite, and she took her time in putting it into place just so. The stockings enveloped her legs in delicious silk, making her feel indulgent and pampered, slipping compliantly into the firm grasp of the garters.
Finally she picked up the dress, sliding it over her head and settling it into place, nipples peeking out erect from the effect that simply showering and dressing was having on her. She paused for a moment to consider what all of the people who worked for and with her would think of her compulsion toward submissive behavior. It was certainly not a trait she ever exhibited in her public life, which no doubt added to the excitement of behaving this way in private. Finally, she slid her feet into the heels, bending over to buckle the straps and noticing that this action showed all of her breasts to anyone close enough to see.
Instantly lost in the fantasy of having some unknown man gazing appreciatively upon her breasts and what that might lead him to suggest, she was startled by the sound of the door closing downstairs. He was home, but it would be unlike him to immediately reveal his plans for her this evening. She'd have to first pass muster for her careful preparation, and remember that she was not allowed to ask for details; many times she didn't know what his ultimate plan was until solidly in the middle of it, felating him in a corner booth of some restaurant or dildo fucking the hot young woman who was busily slurping her dripping pussy while he watched from across the room. The allure, for her, was in the surprise. He had never asked her to do something to which she couldn't agree, but neither had he ever asked her to do something with which she was totally comfortable. The fact that he knew her so well and that his surprises always played to some perhaps unrevealed fantasy of her own helped to make her commitment to him absolute and unconditional.
He walked into the bedroom and looked at her, pleased that she appeared to be ready to go. She looked down, purposefully avoiding his gaze as his eyes took in every detail from her toes to her carefully coiffed hair. He smiled his approval and grabbed her gently but firmly by the wrist, drawing her to him. His hand slid beneath the dress, cupping her ass before continuing on around her thigh, checking that those panties were, indeed, in place as planned. He toyed with her clit briefly, making her shudder, but she knew that this was simply an appetizer. The main course could at this point still be hours away. He planted her hand on his cock, and she found it hard and continuing to swell. She looked up at him but his eyes indicated that now was not the time for his pleasure, either.
Wordlessly, he walked away from her and out of the room. She followed, and they got into his car together without speaking. He smiled at her and produced a velvet blindfold, which he placed over her eyes. So she wasn't to know anything until they reached their destination; she felt another wave of desire tinged with nervousness sweep through her body. She settled back into the passenger seat for the silent ride to tonight's destination.
