This is a story in installments about the "slave" I had one summer.
this goes back a ways to pre-internet/craigslist/etc.:
I placed an ad in the downtown journal that ran tawdry personals on the back 2 pages. It went something along the lines of "seeking attractive woman interested in exploring sensual and erotic boundaries - exhibitionistic leanings a plus". I realized it was a longshot, but hey - nothing ventured...?
Much to my surprise, I received a response about a week later - it didn't say much more than that she was a 30 year old female, that she was interested in finding out more, and that she hoped she wasn't too old. At the time I was about 35 myself, so no problem there. Plus, I've always had a thing for 30ish women, even when I was a teenager.
I replied and sent her my phone number, she called a couple days later. She had a very sweet and gentle voice that I instantly liked. We chatted for a few minutes and then I suggested that she visit my office for an "interview" to see if she would be "appropriate for the position". After we established a time and I explained how to find my place, I said "dress to impress" and we both hung up.
It was a nice warm late spring day and the sunlight streamed in the big windows of my loft office. There were translucent shades at the windows, but as they faced southwest, the light suffused the big space in a warm glow. Most of the morning was devoted to a project I became totally absorbed in and before I realized, there was a knock at the door.
When I opened it I was astonished by the lovely creature standing there rather coyishly. Our eyes met evenly, meaning she stood about 5'-8" in the high heeled sandals she was wearing. She seemed to be all legs - lovely lightly tanned, smooth legs, the effect of which was heightened by a short flouncy skirt in a lightweight floral printed fabric that ended at least four inches above her knees. The skirt was topped by a silky blouse in a peach tone that matched one of the colors in the skirt. Her breasts were obviously not very large, but there was a nice pair of bumps there.
As for her face - it was quite simply angelic. She smiled nervously and brushed a wisp of long brown hair aside as I eyed her up and down. I could tell that she wasn't wearing a lot of makeup, just a touch of something on her skin, a little eyeliner, and some pale lipstick. Her eyes were deep brown and seemed right away to plead for approval as she stood there rather spellbindingly.
I came back to my senses and motioned her in, gently touching her high on the back as I also closed the door behind us before motioning toward the desk at the far end of the space. As we walked that way, her heels made a delightful clickity-clickity sound on the old wood factory flooring. Again I motioned, this time to the guest chairs in front of the desk and she sat, demurely crossing her legs, but the pose allowed the hemline of her skirt to climb higher, tatntalizingly exposing another couple inches of thigh.
Sitting down in my swivel chair on the other side of the desk, I picked up a notepad and pen to jot down some notes. We had been through some preliminary information on the phone. She'd been married for about ten years. Her husband had been the first guy to ever ask her out in high school where she had been the shy bookish wallflower. As time went by, he headed down the born-again path. Their lives were governed by a set of do's and dont's, work, and his church based obligations. Sex became a weekly and eventually monthly goal oriented ritual, namely the creation of children, but that had never happened. A few months prior to her running across my ad, she and he had parted ways and now she was looking for an avenue that would take her somewhere she could explore "the lustfullness I know is in my soul begging for release".
When I prodded her about what her sexual experience was, she seemed uncomfortable. As she was not very forthcoming, I tried being more specific, asked her if she had a favorirte position and she looked confused. After more prodding, it turned out she had only ever experienced missionary style sex, never ever enjoyed the pleasure of cunnilingus, and while she had performed fellatio, it had only been a handful of times, and never to completion, only in order to get him hard enough to facilitate penetration.
We shifted to more general topics and she relaxed a bit. Eventually I moved into getting her statistics, and I was surprised at the ease at which she told me she stood five foot five, weighed 116 pounds, wore a size four dress, size six shoe, size small panties and a 34b bra. The last two pieces of information in particular shocked me with regard to how easily she dispensed it. She asked why I need to know and I explained that most likely I would be doing some shopping for her. This brought a broad smile to her face and she said "mmmm... I think I'd like that - a man buying things for me to wear".
I asked her to stand and she did, then asked her to turn around slowly and as she did, I ran my eyes across her lovely svelte frame, relishing where I was headed with this. As we'd sat there talking, I'd developed a plan and now I was going to put it into motion.
"Take your skirt off".
She froze and looked at me stunned and a little confused. I calmly looked back at her and waited until I could see that the initial shock of the command had subsided a little.
"If we are going to go anywhere with this, here is how it will work. Don't ever question my requests, always just do. I won't hurt you in any manner and I will ensure that you're never harmed by anyone else. You more than likely will be surprised, even shocked from time to time, but that is part of the process and the thrill."
"For you or for me?" she asked.
"For both of us" I replied, "but mostly for you".
She paused for a moment and I saw the anxiety start to slip away. The tenseness in her shoulders dissipated and her posture became more fluid. Standing up, she reached for the hidden zipper at the waist of her right hip and slowly pulled it down the couple inches required to loosen the skirt, then undid the accompanying clasp. Her eyes were locked on mine as she did. They were wide with excitement and her chest rose as her breathing accelerated.
The skirt slipped off her hips, down her thighs, and landed at her ankles. Stepping demurely out of it, she kept her eyes locked on me, but mine were wandering across her loveliness. Extending past her crotch, the blouse was just long enough that nothing other than more of her exquisite legs were revealed and the effect was that they looked like the went on forever. I motioned for her to spin again and she did, this time more slowly, allowing me to soak in just how astoundingly beautiful this shy little thing was. I wanted to fix this image firmly in my brain to savor forever.
"Now the blouse".
This time there was no hesitation, and I must say there never ever was again, the entire course of the summer that ensued. No matter what my instructions, she just did whatever was requested and always looked for more, those luscious deep brown eyes sparkling in anticipation. The blouse was unbuttoned and tossed across the arm of the chair.
Now she stood wearing only bikini panties and bra, conservatively cut and simple, but nevertheless sexy in that they were white lace. I looked expectantly at her and this time she made her slow turn without needing to be told. Her pale skin was barely a couple shades darker than the white lace and was everywhere flawless, dare I say virginic. When she returned to facing me again, I could barely discern a darker area just above the crotch of the panties as well as two distinct bumps beginning to distend the fabric of the simple bra.
"The bra?" she asked.
"Yes"
Reaching behind her to unclasp it, she took another deep breath and her chest rose magnificently. Then she relaxed her shoulders and the bra fell forward and off her arms. It joined the blouse on the arm of the chair.
Her breasts were exquisitely perfect. Small, just round enough to be called globes, but petite and close to her body with barely a touch of pendulousness, they were capped by nipples that were rigidly at attention, begging to be fondled, kissed, licked, or suckled. Pert would be an accurate term for these tits and here they were exposed in my office just for my enjoyment.
She looked at me for approval and I smiled. I saw her take another deep breath, this time one of relief - she was passing inspection.
"Absolutely beautiful breasts dear" I reassured her.
"They're rather small" she replied.
"I've never seen such perfect beautiful breasts" I countered.
She smiled and tipped her head back with her arms at her side, proudly pushing her tits out as far as she could, in the process making her nipples protrude even further. They absolutely screamed to be touched.
"Pinch your nipples".
She reached up and gently squeezed them each between a thumb and forefinger.
"Does that feel good?"
"It does, but what I really like is that I know you're watching me as I do it." Her eyes were closed and her head was still tipped back. "Do you want to touch them?"