Suzette

January.

Elizabeth was about the only person on the entire west coast who would anchor her boat out in the bay at this time of year. Privacy: it was privacy she wanted.

She handed the over-sized white leather bag down to Suzette, who stood expectantly in the dinghy that would carry her ashore from the “Snow Princess”. Out here, the air was salty and still; up there the air was full of women’s perfumed bodies, appetizers and wine – Elizabeth’s friends. A few lipsticked faces peered out of the warmly lit stateroom into the darkness.

In the dinghy was a third woman, all bundled up in ski jacket and jeans: Kathy, the deckhand. Kathy was a risk that Elizabeth had taken; she had hit rock bottom, mainly cocaine, when Elizabeth found her; now she was in recovery. So far, so good. Although she often looked sullen and withdrawn, that was just a protective shell. She often smiled, and she accepted Elizabeth’s lifestyle without judgment. There had never been anything between the two of them.

Even though they came from different worlds, Suzette liked Kathy. They shared a sort of common bond, their adoration of Elizabeth. There had never been anything between Suzette and Kathy, either, although Suzette would have fucked her if Elizabeth had asked. Suzette beamed up at her tall, lovely lover. Up on the deck, Elizabeth’s dark hair swished across her shoulders as she moved her head. “Everything is in the bag,” Elizabeth said. “The envelope of instructions is right on top. We’ll be watching, honey.”

Suzette couldn’t contain the hum in her cunt, but then Elizabeth had told her she wasn’t supposed to contain it any more. It was the greatest gift Elizabeth had given her, to free her urges and secret longings, like a bunch of wild creatures released from captivity. Since she was about 18, she had had this churning inside, something strong, that almost frightened her, it was so nasty. Elizabeth had unlocked it. Suzette sighed and smiled to herself and just let the hum inside her grow, swelling from the knot just under her mound. She sat on the bow as Kathy started the motor to steer them toward the dock, and stared down at the v-shaped ripples as the hull parted the smooth water of the bay.

Elizabeth lingered on Suzette’s silhouette there on the prow before returning to her guests inside, watching her breath vaporize in front of her face, looking up at the backdrop of the Grand Hotel right, and the rest of the city beyond. She pushed a long lock of dark red hair behind her ear. She was 40, she was healthy, she was rich. Her money was only partly inherited; the rest she had earned herself through her work, trading, especially in oil producers. The “Snow Princess” was her pride and joy, white fibreglass on the outside, and on the inside 48 feet of teak and mahogany, a floating boudoir.

She loved to watch. Oh, she loved to control, for sure. But more than anything else she loved to watch.

Ashore, Suzette walked up the sea stairs to the entrance of the hotel. Inside her coat pocket her fingers played with the card to unlock the room. One particular doorman, all decked out in his faux-military coat and hat, followed her to the big brass door and opened it. So gallant. Piano music came from the cocktail lounge in the high atrium opposite the lobby. Glittery people milled around, glasses tinkled. Many eyes dwelled on her. Wherever she went, people were always looking at her, pointing, as if they recognized her. Sometimes they even came up to her and asked if they had seen her on t.v.. The fact was that she would almost certainly win a Heather Locklear look-alike contest. She didn’t mind.

Suzette looked at herself in the shiny brass doors of the elevator while she waited, her long burgundy coat open. Underneath was a burgundy velvet dress, tight and scooped, her tanned legs and chest a leftover from their trip to Acapulco at New Year’s, along with the blonde hair that was slightly sunnier because of that same trip. Elizabeth liked soft pink for Suzette’s nails and toes; even in winter she had Suzette wear open-toed shoes whenever possible. Against the white strap of the leather bag her soft pink fingernails almost looked like candy. The bag contained all tonight’s special equipment: white adhesive tape, and the heavier package she wasn’t to open yet. Adhesive was much easier on the skin than duct tape.

Inside the elevator, alone, she closed her eyes and inhaled her own scent. The musk filled her nostrils, glorious. The smell of sex. Of pussy lips. Of wanton wetness. Of cunt. Suzette was no longer the timid fawn of her former life, wobbling through a forest of dark fantasies. Now that Elizabeth had set them free, her desires were like uncontrollable tongues of flame licking at her, she couldn’t contain them. Within the tight circle of Elizabeth’s control, her needs were allowed to be insatiable.

The hotel room was exquisite, a suite. Third floor, so that out on the water the audience on the “Snow Princess” could see. Suzette hung up her coat. The room was warm. A bottle of white wine was waiting for her, open. Pouilly Fuissé: the name, and the crisp flavour of Burgundy meant much less to her than the buzz she got from gulping the wine down. She poured another glass. Looking out the floor-to-ceiling plate glass window onto the large bay, she saw on the opposite side, a few miles away, the lights of the city rise up the slope of the mountainside. Down below, about 50 yards away, the lights of the Snow Princess twinkled and reflected off the calm water. She ran her hands slowly up and down her lovely body. Velvet on the outside, firm flesh underneath. Hard nipples. The outline of her buttocks when she turned. She was not supposed to wave. She was supposed to get on with business.

Inside she vibrated like the string of a cello. She took out the envelope in her small soft hand, her pink nails shining against the white note paper. Her instructions. She was scared, but it wasn’t a paralysing scare – more like stage fright, an edge that every performer feels before stepping out before the crowd.

She put down her wine. Read her instructions again. Out of her bag she pulled the long heavy item wrapped in tissue paper, and read the card on it:

For my wanton pet, petite suzette, deliciously wet.

Her cheeks flushed.

The tissue paper came away easily. Her small fingers ran delicately along the shaft of a large, soft pink latex vibrator, very lifelike. It must have been 9 inches long, and oh, so wide. She tapped her soft pink fingernails on the rounded testicles at the bottom. Firmly attached to the base was a large leather strap, a belt-like apparatus. Only it wasn’t to be worn around anyone’s waist; it was to be belted around something flat, a bench or a chair. She placed it on the desk. She pulled the heavy armchair from the desk to the window – it had to be the heavy armchair, Elizabeth was specific. A couple of feet back from the window, perfectly centered. She strapped the cock as tight as she could to the seat of the chair and looked at it standing up, erect. She turned the switch to feel it, circled the shaft with her fingers, the soft pink nails slightly deeper than the flesh pink of the vibrator. She shivered. Fuck. She imagined it inside her.

She glanced quickly at the Snow Princess. She reached back, unzipped her dress and shrugged it off her shoulders. She now stood naked. She couldn’t help running her fingers over her nipples; they were hard, sensitive. No other boats were out there, no one else until the other side of the bay, a few miles away. She was 27; in her other life she was a buyer for sports chain, mainly skiwear. She had always been a skier. She was only 5’2, with short neck-length blonde hair, not quite a pixie cut. Very pretty body: a b-cup, silky skin, an ass tight and hard as an apple. Even though Elizabeth insisted Suzette work out, she hardly needed it. She picked up the roll of adhesive tape.

She had to start now. The first instruction was to turn on the television, the sports channel, with the volume on medium. Any sounds she might make would blend into the sounds of cheering, or bodies crashing, or cars racing. She turned on all the lights, and pulled the floor lamp over right beside the chair.

She knew all their eyes were on her. Binoculars, telescopes. The video camera with the zoom lens. She slid her fingers down to her smooth pussy and along her slit. So wet. So swollen. She had to get started.

It was like ballet. Slowly, she backed against the chair, spread her legs, and lowered herself onto the vibrating cock. She felt it spreading her cuntlips, parting them slowly, stretching the wet petals. She looked down at the head separating her pink cuntlips. She was shaved there completely. Her silk purse, Elizabeth called it. She was so close already. Fuck. She felt the thickness of big cock force her wide open, but it still went in without too much trouble. She whimpered and groaned. The instructions were to keep it on low for now. Finally she was right down on it, she could feel the soft testicles mashing her pussy lips, forcing the thick cock up against her pubic bone, right up under her clit. Right against her sensitive centre. She couldn’t resist squirming a little, for effect, letting the light shine off her tanned body.

The ritual began.

She pulled about 6 two-foot long strips of adhesive tape off the roll, and stuck them lightly onto the arm of the chair. She placed the roll on her lap. She pulled off the first strip, bent down, and wrapped it around her ankle and the leg of the chair. Every few seconds she could feel a surge in her cunt and she had to stop, and take a breath. Then her other ankle. She looked down, both ankles secure, her legs spread. She leaned back slowly, the light falling on her hard nipples, her wide wet pussy. Fuck. The vibrations inside her started to hum in her nipples. At the same time she could feel so many eyes caressing the inside of her thighs, feathering her nipples. She was oozing fuckscent. The next strip went around the top of her calf, then around the leg of the chair. Her legs were lovely, the curves of her calves and thighs firm and sloping. Then her other leg. Now her legs were secure and wide apart. The cock up inside her was stabbing in its intensity now. Her nipples were tight and hard, little edible raisins. She couldn’t help squirming. She wasn’t supposed to cum until she was finished. She swallowed. One more strip around her knees and the arm of the chair. Her legs had to be very tightly wrapped; they were strong, and it was important she was completely immobilized. The scent of her need to be fucked filled her nostrils, better than any Burgundy. The chair was getting soaked. What was Elizabeth feeling? What were they saying? Suzette felt so gloriously exposed, a bird flying over a city, untouchable.

The next bit was trickier. It got progressively trickier, actually. Carefully, she pulled a length out in her small fingers, stuck it to her tummy just below her pierced navel, and then pulled it out around her waist to the side of the chair. She kept unrolling it, a long length out, as long as she could make it. She had to twist around behind herself, and behind the back of the chair, but she managed it. She passed it to her other hand, and started it around her other hip, coming back in front and overlapping it with the end she had started. This had to be done properly; her Mistress was watching. Showing her off, how lovely she was, how sexy, how tender and soft, how completely obedient. How wanton.

The next wrap was above her navel. Same process. She felt more confident this time. Sticking the tape to her stomach, then passing it behind, wrapping around the back of the chair and then in front. She had to be completely secure, completely immobile. She went around again, a double layer just for good measure. Completely immobilized, Completely helpless. The surges in her cunt were coming more often now, a flood building up behind a dam. The next strip around her diaphragm. Then the next over the top of her breasts, tight and hard, so that her nipples, hard and on fire, pointed up at the ceiling. Then a strip underneath, along the bottom half of her breasts, below her nipples. All that showed of her breasts was a thin strip, her nipples poking out, hard and pointed. She was finding it very, very difficult to move now. Thankfully she was working on her upper body, where it was a little easier. She could feel her juices seeping out of her cunt, soaking the chair. She almost shuddered, wondering if she would make it. Which only made her wetter, more aroused.

Then one last strip around her upper chest. When she tried to move, different parts gave maybe an inch, but the end result was to fasten the tape even more tightly.

Then a short strip, about 4 inches, over her mouth. Elizabeth’s instruction was very specific about this one. To muffle any of Suzette’s screams. She started to perspire. She felt a trickle of sweat slip down between her breasts. She whimpered under the tape now, involuntarily, unable to control the sounds in her throat.

Her nipples were alive, a current running through them. She pinched them and felt the charge run right through to her clit. She jerked. She almost came, so she stopped.

Now was the trickiest part. She pulled off 4 strips about 12 inches long, and taped them along the length of the right arm of the chair. This had to be done very carefully, so that the tape curled upward from the inside edge of the arm of the chair. Then she pulled off another 4 strips for her left arm. She laid her left arm along the arm of the chair, and wrapped the 4 strips over it, over her wrist, her forearm, all the way up to her elbow. It was secure. She groaned. Now was the trickiest part. She reached between her legs and turned the vibe up about half way. She bucked, then forced herself to stop. Without the direct stimulation on her clit the sensations alternated between a sort of numbness and then a raging wave of vibrations. She had to be quick.

The final act, so to speak. Elizabeth had made her practice this, and Suzette hadn’t been able to figure out what on earth it was for! Now she knew. Painstakingly, she laid her forearm along the arm of the chair, twisted it until all four of the pieces of tape were sticking to her arm, then in a single sharp movement she flipped it over. Not hard enough, the pieces of tape just dangled in the air, stuck to her wrist and forearm. Quickly, she flipped her arm back over, and then performed the movement again. The extra attempt had attached the tape to more of her forearm, so that this time all four pieces caught somewhere. She moaned into the tape over her mouth. This was the moment, the helpless moment.

She felt another trickle of sweat slide down between her breasts.

She was helpless now, her soft tanned thighs wide open, the strips of tape over her body like some refugee from an operating table. At the mercy of the vibrations spreading deep in her cunt.

It happened so suddenly. She bucked. It was her complete helplessness that did it. It sent her over the edge immediately. Coming from deep inside her, this first orgasm rolled through her like thunder, rumbling and deep. At first she thought it would be a deep, manageable orgasm, but it just kept coming, closer and closer to the surface, until she was shuddering and jerking, her head thrashing from side to side, the muscles in her jaw tight and taut. Her body screamed, it was so intense. The jerking slowly stopped, and she panted through her nose, her eyes watering. She lay as still as she could, her shoulders lifting as she tried to catch her breath, the humming going on inside her, bearable for the moment.

How long could she last? All she could, she knew, was wait for the batteries on the vibrator to run down.

A tremor of fright jolted through her. She squirmed, and heard the wet sounds of her cunt, wet, swollen and aching. Her squirming brought her pussy to life again, and before too long she could feel the next orgasm rising. She started fucking the cock as hard as she could. She needed to cum, she had that liberated slut’s need. Deep again within her, the throbbing underneath transmitted through her pubic bone to her clit on the surface this time. Once again, wracked with spasms, moaning and whimpering, oblivious to the sounds of the football game on the television behind her. Sweat was dripping down her chest now, down her cheeks. The chair was soaked.

Momentarily she caught her reflection in the plate glass window. She looked like something from an art movie. Taped into her chair, everything happening silently. She looked fabulous. Then another orgasm. The blonde head tore from side to side, hair flying, her eyes squeezed shut and then wide, wide open, like she was at the top of a roller-coaster, then the shudders. She no longer had any awareness of anything or anyone else. Nothing else existed. There was no one else anywhere. No Snow Princess, no Elizabeth, no lights on the far mountainside. The entire world consisted of this throbbing deep in her centre, the erupting craziness of one orgasm starting as she was coming down from the previous one.

It was relentless, her hair was sticking to her sweaty cheeks and forehead, she could feel the tape biting into her legs and arms and breasts from her thrashing body. But these sensations were moments of brief awareness, between the volcanic eruptions of her orgasms.

Finally… Finally… Finally, the batteries ran out, she stopped moving, her head lolled to the side, her eyes closed. Tears running down her face.

It took Elizabeth about an hour to get into the tender, and go up to the room to relieve Suzette. She closed the curtains, took off the tape and put Suzette to bed. Next day, she took her pretty pet shopping, one of Suzette’s favourite things. She found it so erotic to try on clothes for Elizabeth.

***

And so on.

Elizabeth had her needs, too. Every few weeks, Elizabeth needed to see Suzette perform like this. And when the hunger was satisfied it was brief, before it returned stronger than ever, like a glutton that always needed larger meals. So every few weeks she would invite some friends out onto her boat, and they would watch Suzette’s display. Once Suzette did a striptease, once she fucked a lifesize inflatable man, once she decked herself out in clamps on her nipples and clit, dancing in the window till she came.

***

“Baby, tonight it is my turn to spoil you.” Elizabeth picked out a raspberry on her spoon, reached across their table and fed it to Suzette’s pretty pink mouth. “We’ll shop for a dress for you. Then we’ll have dinner in the room at the Grand, all by ourselves.”

Suzette flushed. Even a small gesture like feeding her a raspberry made her wet. “What about all the people coming to the boat tonight?” Mingled with the delight, Suzette almost felt some disappointment at not putting on the show she was anticipating.

Elizabeth smiled back, letting her eyes dwell on Suzette’s hard nipples through her cashmere sweater. “Oh I will stay with them on the boat for a bit, while you go to the room and have a glass of wine. Then I’ll leave them, and come to you. We can let them watch a bit, but then we’ll close the drapes. And I can finish fucking you. How does that sound.”

Suzette beamed. “You’re so perfect for me.”

Six o’clock. In Suzette’s small palm was the card for the room. She was thrilled. She was nervous. They had found a pretty red satin dress, tight, with a sweetheart neckline. When Suzette came out of the change room in the store, it had left Elizabeth practically speechless. No bra, as Elizabeth liked, and a thong. Elizabeth liked to see her nipples, liked to know she was available and aroused. She liked seeing eyes drawn to Suzette. Men’s eyes were easy, of course; Elizabeth gave her extra points for girls. Under the tight dress, her thong was almost invisible. That was another thing Elizabeth liked; for connoisseurs of lingerie, she thought the outline of a thong under a tight dress was very erotic.