Interlude 19 77

Nineteen

It had been 6 weeks since their weekend on the beach. Work schedules, combined with a recognized need to be apart for a little while to recharge the excitement in their encounters, conspired to keep them apart.

It's Friday morning, just another day. She is looking forward to the weekend away from the office bullshit. She was hoping to see him, or hear from him, this weekend. A girl can only satisfy herself with her good friend Willy for so long before she needs the real thing. However, so far she hasn't heard from him.

Coming back to her desk after her 10 o'clock break, she finds a Global Express package sitting on it. She isn't expecting anything. Her heart quickens a bit, hoping it is from him, and not some asshole customer.

A check of the address confirms it is from him. Or at least she guesses it is, since it is actually sent from one of the high end lingerie stores she frequents. She slices open the envelope, and extracts the note inside:

"Since you have not contacted me for a while, I can only guess that you are engrossed in those '39 Hues of Green' novels you were raving about. I read the first one. Or rather, I tried to read it. I found it kind of boring, to be honest. Too much lovie-dovie for me, and not enough of the good stuff. I guess I can see why it appeals so much to women, though. No matter how liberated you are, deep down you want to be controlled by a man. Am I right?"

"Well, let's see if that's actually the case. If you want to agree to 'the contract', you will get your hair done tomorrow. Do something different with it; I will let you know if I approve of it when I see you. Have your feet and hands done as well, I know you enjoy your footgasms. Go to the place that does the intimate waxing. You are to get a full Brazilian. I want your pussy as smooth as a baby's butt."

"A card key is also in this envelope. There is an address and suite number on it. Go to this place tomorrow at 8:00pm. You can go straight to the room, we are already checked in. Do not open this box until you get into the room. You will find additional instructions waiting for you there."

"Expect to stay the evening, and bring whatever overnight trinkets you need. Don't bother with clothing, except for something to wear home on Sunday."

"By doing this, you are agreeing to 'the contract', and agree to follow my instructions without question (at least for the entirety of this weekend). You will do whatever I ask of you, no matter what it entails, understand?"

She lays the note down onto the desk, and tries to catch her breath. He pegged her completely, as usual. She had read the trilogy of books, not once but twice. The words had excited her. Although he was definitely a man's man, and had always treated her well, she wallowed in the book's fantasy of a female being completely controlled.

There was no way she was going to pass this up. The rest of Friday crawled by, as she kept wondering what was in the box, and what he had in store for her.

At precisely 8:00pm Saturday evening, she slips the key card into the lock, and the door opens. She could have been early, or late, but didn't want to start things out wrong. Whether he was in the room already or not, she knew he would know if she wasn't there at the specified time.

The locale for their meeting this time was a bit different. It was an executive suite setup, one where corporate bigwigs came in to stay for extended periods of time. It had the amenities of a 4 star hotel, but the layout and feel of an expensive town home. After stepping in, she looks around. The entryway opens into a luxurious living area, with a huge leather sofa/recliner combination facing a huge flat screen on one wall, and a matching love seat facing a richly adorned fireplace.

There is a bar, dividing the living area and the kitchen. She sees on it a couple of bottles and a pair of glasses. She leaves her small bag at the entry way. As the door closes itself, she walks to the bottles. Yes, they are 'her' blackberry wine. A note is leaning against one of the bottles, with her name written on it in his hand writing. She had hoped for one, to get more of his instructions for the evening.

After slicing it open with her nail, she removes the paper from inside the envelope.

"I presume it is about 8:03pm. If not, remind me that you need some extra punishment for disobeying me (smile)."

"By coming here, you are agreeing to be mine, completely, until sunrise. Anything I wish, you will do. Anything I ask, you will answer 'yes'. Anyway I wish to use your body; you will comply, with enthusiasm, and do your best to satisfy me."

"Go ahead and start the fire. It is temperature controlled, so don't worry about getting hot – at least not due to the air temperature. Turn off all the other lights in the living area."

"The bathing facilities here are wonderful. You will go and use them now. You may stay in there as long as you wish, but you are not to pleasure yourself. You will clean yourself completely. Remember, you do not know how I will use you, so be prepared for anything. Get rid of the work week, and enjoy the comfort."

"When you have finished, and only then, open the box. You will recognize what is inside. Put on what is appropriate. Some of the garments may be a little more 'restrictive' than you are used to, so take a little extra time and effort to get them on correctly."

"Remember – you are not to pleasure yourself. No touching of your naughty bits for any reason other than cleaning, got it? I will control the pleasure, or pain, that you will feel tonight."

As she lays down the note, her mind is wrapped around his written words. He seems so much more demanding than normal, but isn't that what she was fantasizing about? As she considers the instructions, there is no question in her mind whether she will obey or not. There is simply no way she is going to risk fucking up this experience by not cooperating. After all, she has been wrapped in 39 Hues of Green from a literary sense, why not in an actual sense as well? Besides, she knows him well enough to trust that he will not cross a line that would upset or hurt her.

She cheats just a little, and pours herself a glass. It is gone in three gulps. She retrieves her overnight bag, and moves into the bedroom area. The king sized bed is beautiful, and the very high end hotel model that makes you feel like you've melted into it when you lay down. The overnight bag finds its way onto the top of the chest. Pulling out the package, she places it on the bed, and then pulls out her 'essentials'.

Walking into the bathroom, her breath is taken. The shower is like nothing she has ever seen. It is a large walk in area, tiled floor to ceiling in dark blue. Quickly, she drops out of her work clothes, grabs a few items from her kit, and opens the glass shower door. Stepping in, she notices what appears to be a computer control panel built into the wall. The keys are normal computer icons. She presses the 'ON' button, and the LCD screen comes to life. A 30 second intro video is displayed. It seems simple enough. She pushes the screen a few times to select the options she wishes.

There is a 'chair' in the center of the shower. She sits in it. It is cushioned, and a comfortable temperature. Her right index finger finds the buttons mounted on the side of the chair, and pushes START.

Ten shower heads pop out of the wall and ceiling, and water starts misting out of them. She is surprised that the water is warm immediately. The technician in her deduces that there must be a hot water tank located right here, to provide the heated liquid on demand.

A gentle, warm rain comes down on her. Leaning back, she thinks to herself that it would be very easy to get used to this.

After several minutes of enjoying the relaxing mist, she toggles another control. A harder, invigorating spray comes forth from each of the heads. The pulsing friction against her skin is delightful. All of the bullshit from the work week just melts away, disappearing down the drains.

Forcing herself to rise up, she goes through the exercise of washing from head to toe. A new razor glides over her legs and underarms, removing any unwanted roughness. She skips over her pubic area, since the wax treatment she had gotten earlier in the day had completely removed any hint of hair.

Finishing her cleansing, she sits back down. Her index finger finds the control buttons again. Warm rain starts cascading down on her. Leaning back, she relaxes under the warm drizzle. After a couple of minutes, she realizes that she better get her ass in gear. Although he had not given her a schedule, wasting any more time in the water might get her in trouble.

Drying her hair and applying the appropriate makeup is done in record time. She has chosen what her friend Sara called the 'sophisticated slut' look. Dark eye shadow, upswept at the corners, and a heavy dose of hooker red lipstick to match her finger and toe nails. She does not know what a submissive hairstyle might be, but chooses to put it up into a conservative looking bun.

After taking a few glimpses in the full length mirror to double check her efforts, she returns to the bedroom. Heart beating a bit faster, she pops opens the package. She is both excited and apprehensive to find out what he has chosen for her to wear for the evening, and what else might be inside.

Looking into the open box, she sees black cloth, and another envelope. Knowing he would expect her to read first, she pulls it out and opens it up:

"Good. You should now be ready for your evening. Put on the pieces that are enclosed in this box, including the shoes. As I mentioned before, you might find them a bit more restrictive than you are used to. Be sure to get them on correctly, and that everything is lined up just right. You will find two extra stockings. Tuck them into your cleavage."

"Take the other items and place them on the coffee table in front of the fire place."

"Pour yourself another glass of wine (I know you've cheated and already had one!), and drink it down quickly. I want you to feel a buzz. If you need to, drink another glass."

"Then, sit on the coffee table, facing the loveseat. Take one of the stockings from between your breasts, fashion a blindfold out of it, and cover your eyes. Tie it well; we do not want it to come loose. Adjust it so that you cannot see, and don't cheat. I will know if you do, and your punishment will be adjusted accordingly."

"You are to sit on the edge of the coffee table like a nice, respectable slut. You will remain there until I arrive and tell you to do otherwise."

"Remember, for the evening, you are not allowed to say No. Your responses to me are to be 'Yes, Sir', or 'May I' if you have a question."

"While you are sitting there, consider what I might do to you later. I might just watch you. I might use your mouth. I might use your pussy. I might bend you over and take your ass. I might make you get yourself off while I watch. I might jerk off onto you and not let you touch me or yourself at all."

Her hands tremble as she puts the note down onto the bed. She can feel herself beginning to get wet in anticipation, and her nipples are starting to stiffen already. It was amazing how just a few words from him could turn her into a quivering mass of sexual desire.

She turns the package on end, and the contents drop out onto the bed. Picking through the garments, she separates them. Sure enough, there are two pair of very smooth stockings, black, and back seamed. They are old fashioned ones, with the reinforced toes and Cuban styled heels.

She picks up the bra. It is a black shelf type. It looks like the half cups will allow her nipples to peek out over the tops of the material. The cup material is sheer, and the underwires are significant. It will not be comfortable to wear, she is certain.

The other piece of her ensemble is a black open bottomed girdle. She looks at the tag. The size is the right one. From experience, she knows that it is going to be a bitch to get on, and not that comfortable. Six metal clasp garters will keep the stockings in place.

First on is the girdle. It takes quite a bit of wiggling to get it up her thighs and over her hips. To say it was an effective shaping garment would be an understatement! The stockings follow. The smooth material feels so good to both her legs and hands as she rolls them up the length of her calves and thighs. Their length is perfect, topping out 3 inches below her pussy. Fastening the garters comes next. The front right one is first, followed by the front left. Doing it in this order keeps them from sliding down as she fastens the other garters.

As usual, the back garters are the bitches. The fact that the girdle is an expensive one, with high quality loops and hooks, helps. However, it still takes a couple of tries to get them hooked just right.

Cheating a bit with the bra, her hands fasten the hooks while it is around her chest backwards, and then slides it around until the cups are underneath her girls. Arms go through the straps, which then find their way onto the tops of her shoulders. She cups her left breast in her right hand, and adjusts it within the half cup of material that will not quite contain it. Repeating with the right breast, her girls settle into their correct positions.

She drops the heels onto the floor, and steps into the right one. Sliding her foot into it, she then picks up her foot and rests it on the edge of the bed. Reaching down, her fingers fasten the strap around her ankle. After putting her foot back down, she repeats the process with the left foot.

Now wearing all of her bed dress, she moves over in front of the full length mirror. She checks her front first, making sure her nipples are peeking up and over the bra, and are even. Looking down, she marvels at his attention to detail. The garter straps had been pre-adjusted, so that the stockings were in that perfect place, and the bottom edge of the girdle just barely concealed her womanhood when she was standing upright. Gorgeous, she thinks as she smiles to herself.

Spinning around, she checks the back seams, and verifies they are straight. The bottom edge of the girdle is positioned so that just the slightest hint of the bottom curve of her butt cheeks is visible. Convinced that everything is in order, she picks up the other items and walks back into the living area.

After depositing the items on the table, the glass of wine he mandated goes down quickly. Then, a second glass. It tastes delicious, but that is secondary. She wants the buzz, and wants the fortitude the alcohol will give her. Her knees are feeling just a bit weak at the moment, from the anticipation.

She takes a seat on the coffee table as he directed, facing the chair. The table is not soft, and surely will become uncomfortable if she remains in this position for very long. However, she agreed to do this, so she realizes that any discomfort is her own fault.

Reaching between her breasts, she removes one of the stockings, and then puts it into place as a blindfold. Surprisingly, she realizes she truly can't see anything through the material, even though it is so soft and smooth. She ties it in a knot, to make sure it doesn't come loose per his instructions.

Then, the waiting begins.

Before he had come back into her life, she had enjoyed wearing sexy lingerie occasionally. It was a nice addition, a sexy touch used occasionally to spice up a good fuck session. His enthusiasm for attractive underwear, specifically when she was wearing it, had heightened her interest in it. Now, she truly looked forward to dressing up for bed. A good old naked romp in the sack was always good, but the way the naughty garments made her look and feel was incredible. Occasionally, when she was alone, she would dress as if he was there, and masturbate while thinking of him looking at her accented curves. Now and then, if she was feeling particularly adventurous, she would actually wear some of the garments under her work clothes. Admittedly, it made it difficult to sit across from her coworkers and customers without thinking of how they would respond if they knew what was underneath the formal business attire that was facing them. On the other hand, it helped to remind her of her own confident womanhood, and brought out in her a sense that she was a force to be reckoned with in her own right.

Given her affinity for the garments, and the sexual tension inside of her that was building as she prepared herself for him, it was no surprise that her womanhood was producing a liberal amount of lubricant. She was wet, very wet.

Sitting there, basically in the dark, dressed for a fuck, with his description of what he might do to her swimming in her mind, is deliciously frustrating. If he was here now and just touched her, anywhere, she was likely to orgasm. The warmth in her pussy is too much to bear. Her hands fold into her lap. She doesn't dare use them to get herself off, for he will certainly know. Shrewdly, she thinks, she starts contracting her thigh muscles, hoping her hands will hide the slight movements. Each contraction puts a slight friction on her clit. Rather than satisfy, it just serves to frustrate more. God, she would kill to have him fingering her right now. Or licking her pussy. Or stuffing his cock in her mouth. Or ... just about anything.

As she continues to sit impatiently, she feels the constraining garments bite into her skin a bit. Not actual pain, but uncomfortable. The upper edge of the girdle and the lower edge of the bra are a mere inch apart. Their tight grip on her is accented because of her sitting posture, and pinches the flesh between them. The rear garters are tightly stretched across her backside, and are surely going to leave indentions on her ass cheeks. Even the shoes keep themselves in her mind, as they bind her ankles into a slightly uncomfortable angle. All of this serves to remind her that she is here for his pleasure, and is completely under his control (at least for THIS evening).

She continues to sit there for what seems hours, but in reality it is just a few minutes. Suddenly, she senses a presence in front of her. She catches a whiff of the subtle scent he wears. What, how? She had not heard the door. Realization sets in. He's been here, watching her, all of this time. She starts to blurt out at him, but catches herself. A cross word, or any questioning from her might spoil this, and she can't let that happen.

She hears the crush of soft leather as he sits in the loveseat opposite from her. He has not said a word. He has not touched her. She dares not move.

Three minutes pass. Her frustration is so high; she fears she will start to physically tremble. Suddenly, she hears him rise up out of the chair. She feels his legs touch hers, and force her knees apart. She feels him move closer to the edge of the table, closer to her. Her hands fall out of her lap and grasp the edge of the table. Her breathing is heavy, she is sure that he can hear the huskiness and soft moans escaping from deep within her.

He is close. She hears the zipper on his slacks come down. Please, please, she begs in silence. Please give me your cock, she shouts without sound. She hears him disrobe, can feel the air move with him as he removes all of his clothing.

Something is right in front of her face, she can sense it. Without a touch, she knows that his manhood is hovering right in front of her mouth. She is salivating, craving it, and desperately wanting to feel it slide inside of her.

"Kiss my cock," is the first thing she hears him say.

She needs no further incentive. Her lips part and she licks her lips without thinking about it. Her head moves forward. Even blind, she finds her target immediately. His cock is semi-hard, that wonderful state where it is fat and full, but not yet completely rigid. Her lips close on the mushroom head. Her tongue touches his skin. She opens wide and starts to engulf it. God, she wants it in her mouth.