The Arrangement

The rain was easing, but hadn't stopped completely, she noticed. She tried dodging the biggest puddles to avoid getting her new black heels wet. Her legs felt a bit of a chill as she walked from where the taxi left her to the address printed on the card. It wasn't far, and the old Victorian house stood out amongst its plainer neighbours.

Anyone could see this place was different.

The woman walked slowly up to the door, clutching her overcoat to her breasts, as much out of nervousness as to keep out the rain. It had taken her a full two weeks to decide to call the number and make this deal; it wasn't something to be done lightly. But in the end, she realized that this was her best chance to save her business, and her marriage. There was nowhere else she could get that much money in the timeframe she had. So here she was, about to submit herself body and soul to a complete stranger.

She hadn't met the man, only heard his voice on the other end of the phone and seen a pic he had sent her. The paperwork he included told her about the things she could expect, but there were so many possibilities on that list. The activities it mentioned made 50 Shades of Grey look like a children's book. But she had accepted the deal, and signed her acceptance of the terms, and was just about to step over the edge into the unknown.

Not completely unknown really. She had let her husband tie her up for sex once when they were first married, and she had found it arousing to be made helpless while he explored her body, especially when his tongue made its way down to her pussy. She came hard from that as she recalled. And according to the contract she signed, a whole lot of kinky bondage was on the menu this weekend.

She snapped out of her reverie when the door was opened by a tall, distinguished, older-looking man. Before she could say anything, he ushered her inside and showed her where she was to go.

"He is waiting for you in there, madam. I will take your coat," he said, helping her out of the wet garment.

"Thank you," she replied, glad to be in where it was warm and dry. She was about to remove her shoes, when he stopped her.

"Please madam, keep your footwear on. He wants to see you in them," the man said, before disappearing down the hall.

Slowly, she walked towards the door to the room he had indicated to her. The house was richly furnished, the walls panels of dark oak and the hallways and stairs covered in plush red carpeting. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she approached the polished doorknob that would open the door to... what?

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her skirt and blouse, and opened the door.

He was there, sitting in a high-backed leather chair, next to the fireplace where a couple of logs burned brightly. He smiled as she entered, and he closed the book he was reading before placing it on a side table.

"Welcome to my home," he said, rising from his chair. "I am glad to finally meet you in person," he added as he took her hand and kissed it. She noticed that his eyes never looked away from hers.

She watched the man as he took her in. He was handsome, late 40's, hair greying at the temples. Broad shoulders, and an athletic physique hidden behind his tailored slacks and jacket. He walked with purpose, his stride confident. His blue eyes grabbed hers and she could not look away.

"Let's get comfortable, shall we?"

"Ok, then," she said quietly as he came closer. "What would you... I mean...."

The man put his finger to her lips and silenced her.

"Shh, no need to talk just yet," he explained, his gaze trapping her. "In fact, I request that you don't speak at all, unless I have given you permission to do so," he added, moving behind her.

She began to turn around to look behind her, when she felt his hands on her shoulders. Strong hands, that firmly moved her to face away from him.

"Face forward please," he said, as he leaned in to take in her scent.

She fought to keep her body still, but she trembled. She agreed to this, agreed she would do whatever he told her to do, but this was so... foreign to her. She couldn't tell if she was afraid or excited, but the feel of his hands on her, and his breath tickling her neck was not unwelcome.

"You are a beautiful woman," he whispered into her ear. "It is my hope that this weekend will be as pleasurable for you, as it will be for me," he purred, rubbing her shoulders.

"I am going to undress you now," he explained, reaching around to unbutton her blouse, "so I can see all of your beauty."

She gasped as she felt his hands undoing her buttons. He pressed in close to her, and she could feel the warmth of his body against hers, and the hardness in his pants that was pressing against her backside.

Her mind whirled; this was happening so fast. She hadn't been undressed in front of a man other than her husband in six years. Without thinking, her hands grabbed his.

"Please, this is so sudden, I..." she began, but fell silent when his hand gently but firmly clamped over her mouth. He held her for a moment, before leaning in to whisper again.

"I understand my dear," he said, holding her still. "You've never done anything like this before, and it scares you," he said. His free hand went back to her blouse, brushing across the edge of her black bra.

"The agreement was clear; you agree to obey me in all things for the duration of our time together, and I provide you with the financing you need to secure your future," he reminded her, as he pulled her blouse free from the skirt.

"In our agreement, there were several clauses that dealt with disobedience," he lectured, with his hand now flat on her tanned belly. "Do you recall what those clauses mentioned," he asked, removing his hand from her mouth.

She swallowed and closed her eyes. "Yes," she replied quietly.

"Go on," he prodded, unzipping her skirt in the rear.

"Disobedience by me at any time will result in punishment by you, at your discretion," she added, biting her lip.

"Precisely," he said, grinning, as her skirt slid down to her feet.

"Now don't move unless I tell you to," he warned, tossing her skirt away.

The man took her blouse off, followed by her lacy black bra. As he pulled that from her, it took everything in her being not to cover her breasts. She was embarrassed that her nipples were already hard, standing erect from her soft globes.

"Lovely," whispered the man, cupping her breasts from behind. "Absolutely perfect, my dear," he added, letting his thumbs gently circle her nipples. His touch was gentle, but electric; she shuddered and closed her eyes, concentrating on not moving or making a sound. It lasted only a few moments, then she felt his hands pull away.

"Spread your legs wider for me now," he instructed, still calm as he went to the table behind them and poured himself a small glass of whiskey on ice. She did as he said, standing now with her legs shoulder width apart.

He returned to his chair by the fire and sat looking at her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Wider please," he said, gesturing toward her. "Then turn around and remove your panties," he said before sipping his drink.

Heart racing, she grasped the band of her bikini underwear, and slipped them off. She had shaved her pubic area nude, and her hairless pussy felt like it was sticking out for the world to see. Only for the moment, the man was the world, and he seemed unconcerned about her pussy or her discomfort in baring it to him. Slowly she turned, so that her ass faced him. She spread her legs wide. The man was silent, and she worried that something was wrong. He hadn't moved or said anything. The silence felt it was closing in on her. And then he spoke.

"Clasp your hands, and place them behind your head," he instructed. She did as he asked and felt the heat of embarrassment flood through her. Here she was, naked in front of a total stranger, while he made her do these things. Why was he doing this? What did he want from her?

Setting his drink aside, he rose and walked up slowly behind her. She was dying to know what he was doing behind her, certain that at any moment she would be forced to the floor and raped. But that didn't happen. Instead, she felt his hot breath on the back of her neck, telling her that he had a gift for her. As she wondered what that meant, she felt something soft, then hard touching her wrist. It was a fleece-lined, leather cuff, that he slipped onto her arm and buckled close. It gripped her tightly but was comfortable. In silence, he buckled her other wrist into the other black cuff.

That accomplished, she was surprised when she felt a leather collar slip around her neck and listened to it being fastened in the back. He had to push her dark hair out of the way to do this.

She heard a little jingling, then he pulled her right wrist down to clip it to a ring set in the back of her collar. Moments later, she heard the click of her left wrist being similarly fashioned. She couldn't move her arms from the position they were in, and immediately she felt even more helpless than she had ever been.

The man stepped around to her front and smiled. "You look good in leather," he said, complimenting her. He enjoyed looking at her. She was in good shape, and the posture her put her in made her thrust her magnificent breasts forward. Their dark nipples stood out, as if beckoning him. Her exposed armpits were shaved bare and were pale in contrast to her otherwise tanned skin. But he wasn't finished yet.

He walked over to his chair and sat once more. To his side sat a leather ottoman. He pulled it in front of him and gestured for her to come forward.

"Let's get you out of those uncomfortable heels, now," he said pleasantly, showing her the matching ankle cuffs he had for her. "Please have a seat."

Carefully, she moved toward the ottoman and sat down facing him. The fact that she naked and couldn't put her arms down was making her so self-conscious; she was certain he was appraising her whole body. It began to make her wet thinking about it.

The man pointed to her left foot. "Put your foot up here," he ordered.

She hesitated, looking down at the black leather heels she was wearing. She had already been stripped of everything else; why was she reluctant to give up her shoes? Was it because she would then be truly naked before him?

She did not have time to figure that out.

The man grabbed her by the ankle and forced her leg up, setting her foot close to his lap.

"When I say to do something, I expect you to do it," he said, his voice tinged with anger. "Your obedience is required at all times, and in all things, or our contract is terminated, and you can leave," he added, his eyes smoldering. "Do you want that?"

She looked at the floor. Quietly, she whispered, "No."

He leaned forward and lifter her chin, making her look him in the eye. "No? Just no? Is that an appropriate way to address me?" he asked, gripping her hair firmly and pulling her head back.

She swallowed hard, her mouth feeling like it was full of sand. She knew what she had to say. "No Sir," she answered a little louder, feeling her pussy lips moisten.

He held her there for a few moments, then went back to her foot. He grasped her shoe and slowly pulled it free. He looked at her now bare foot. A size 8 he estimated, and obviously well-cared for. The sole was pale and smooth, and her cute toes were painted red. "Now the other," he said, and she placed her other foot into his hands.

The air felt cool on her toes, and she resisted the urge to rub her feet together. She took very good care of her feet, had pedicures regularly, but she suddenly worried that she would be embarrassed if they smelled, which was absurd given her situation.

He held her right foot and rubbed the bottom with his thumbs. Her foot twitched in his hand, and the toes wiggled slightly.

"You have very nice feet, my pet," he said, complimenting her.

"Thank you, Sir," was her reply. A hint of a relief could be seen on her face.

Then she felt his fingertips grazing across her toes, and she could not keep still. Her foot jerked, and she bit back a giggle.

"And ticklish too I see," the man continued, inspecting her other bare sole. He ran a fingernail down the pale arch and scratched at her heel. She was ready this time, and held still, except for her toes which instinctively clenched.

He chuckled and set her feet back down on the floor. "We will have some fun with that later," he promised, and stood up to fetch himself another drink.

She was so surprised at how quickly this was turning her on. He was an attractive man for sure, but it wasn't just his looks that was doing this to her. His voice, his movements, the way he was controlling her -- she couldn't help being aroused. Her pussy was starting to tingle, and there was nothing she could do about it; her wrists were secured behind her head.

"Now go and stand in the middle of the room," he commanded, pointing to a spot clear of any furniture. "I want to play a little game with you," he said, mischief in his eyes. "But first we need more ice," he said, filling his ice bucket with cubes he had pulled from somewhere behind the bar.

She stood, silently, waiting for his next instructions. Her heart raced, and she felt flushed with excitement. What did he need more ice for?

He approached her from behind, and she heard him set some things down on the floor. "Close your eyes," he said, and used a black silk scarf to blindfold her. Her wrists were still linked together behind her head, and he decided to leave her like this.

"This game involves me doing things to you, while you try to remain still. You have permission to talk during this game," he added, "because you very likely couldn't keep quiet anyway."

The woman nodded, speechless. She was too excited to say anything.

She heard the man pick something up. She didn't know what it was. But then she felt it on her arm, something soft. It felt like an artist's paintbrush. She could feel the fine hairs travel down from her wrist to her elbow, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Then she felt it circle her elbow, and slowly travel the upper part of her arm, moving toward her armpit. She tried to prepare herself.

The brush moved teasingly around the outside of her armpit, hitting just enough sensitive flesh to make her moan. Then it traveled across to her breast and began to slowly turn circles around her engorged nipple. She was sensitive there too, and her nipples grew even harder from the stimulation. She clenched her teeth and fought not to move, as the bristles explored her upper body.

"What a beautiful canvas," he said, kissing her belly in the spot where he had just used the brush. His tongue licked out and caught a bead of sweat that rolled down her torso, then descended into her navel. She giggled finally, unable to contain herself. She had not known she was ticklish there.

She sucked in her stomach, trying to evade the wet probe that was teasing her. It spent a few moments licking across her belly. Then she felt his tongue move lower, to her waist. "Oh my God," she whispered, more to herself than the man toying with her.

She could hear the man chuckle. He was enjoying this. He reached around and cupped her buttocks in his hands, holding her still, and let his tongue slide down her soft skin towards her now wet pussy.

"Oh..." she moaned, anticipating that he would do what she thought he was going to do. An hour previously, she would have dreaded this, but now? His tongue felt like fire, leaving a burning line in her trembling skin as it moved closer to her throbbing wetness. Her husband had never done anything like this with her.

And just like that, his tongue was gone. He stood up and went to fetch his drink.

She stood there, moaning in disappointment. He was teasing her, testing her, and she was behaving just the way he wanted. She was so turned on, she felt like she was standing over a puddle of her own juices.

After a silent couple of minutes, she heard him finish his drink and approach her again. This time, he used his fingers, to explore her body. It could have been minutes or hours, she had no sense of time as he stroked, poked and teased her all over. He played with her hair, while licking her earlobe, then kissed his way down her neck. He squeezed her nipples and laughed when she gasped from the pain. He fondled her ass, squeezed her cheeks, and then smacked her there hard, several times. She cried out from the shock of it, then moaned when she felt his tongue sooth her punished cheeks. She felt weak now, as he ran his hands up and down her bare legs, his mouth teasing her soft thighs. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her body felt like it was just one big nerve ending.

And that's when he started with the ice.

She flinched when he pressed a cube into the small of her back. It was so cold! She made gasping and mewling sounds as he traced the cube across her back, letting it melt so cool droplets of water ran down her backside.

"Please, it's so cold," she whined, wrists straining at the restraints she wore. She never was good with the cold. When she felt the freezing cube slide across the tender skin behind her knee, she shrieked out loud, her leg nearly buckling.

"Remain still," he commanded, pushing her back into place.

She obeyed, so aroused she didn't care if he saw her pussy dripping onto the floor. Then he went to work on her thighs with the ice, which was only marginally better than behind the knees. He forced her to spread her legs wider, so he could move the cube to the inside of her smooth thighs. Once again, it was too much for her. She cried out, and moved her hips, trying to escape the cold, wet thing that tormented her.

Suddenly he slapped her ass hard with the palm of his hand.

She gasped from the pain, feeling the heat across her cheeks. Before she could even register the sting of the first blow, he smacked her bare ass again.

"I told you to remain still. Don't ruin our game," he warned, then gave her another hard slap that left his handprint on her ass cheek.

"Yes Sir... I mean, no Sir,... I'm sorry," she babbled, the pain in her backside mingling with the arousal from below. Not being able to see where he was going to touch her made things so much more difficult, she thought.

The man casually moved from behind her, to the front, and started over with her breasts. Despite the cold, she maintained relatively still while the ice tormented her hot skin, leaving cool moisture in its wake. She moaned and squealed through several passes where the cube touched her belly and dug into her navel. This was driving her crazy!

Finally, she felt the ice touch her where her pubic hair used to be. She held her breath, wondering if he would finally touch her there. Then coldness gently skimmed the edge of her wet lips, and she bit her lip to keep from howling. Slowly, the man brushed the ice up and down, cooling down her overheated pussy. He noticed with satisfaction that she could not stay still, her hips began to move, almost following his movements with the cube. Up and down went the cube, before settling on her clit.

"Oh my God, oh no... please," she begged, the sensation too much to bear. The ice was torture on her sensitive sex, she felt like she might explode at any minute. She sensed that the man was pleased with her reaction and was probably smiling. It lingered a few moments more, then withdrew.

"Please, please..." she whimpered, wanting him to stop, and wanting him to continue at the same time. She was almost beside herself.

She heard him straighten up and move the cube towards her mouth. It touched her lips, and she licked at it, savoring the cool moisture it gave her. She didn't realize how thirsty she was.

"Yes, I think it is time for you to please," the man said, rubbing the cube across her lips. He grabbed her chin and leaned close. "I want you on your knees," he whispered, tossing the shrinking cube away.