Captivated
Before reading this it's highly recommended that you read the earlier parts
I took the phone call a few days later. It was a Jean calling from Marcia Clement's office.
"Marcia would like you to have dinner with her at her home tomorrow night at eight," Jean said adding, "she'll send a car to pick you up from the agency at 7.30, you can change there if you need to. OK?"
I stammered a yes even though the plummy, voiced Jean hardly listened and didn't really wait for that.
Again the enormous assumptiveness of Marcia and the way that she used her bloody secretary to make the date with me annoyed yet at the same time impressed me. To be truthful it also thrilled me that she wanted to see me again for I'd heard nothing from her after she walked out of my room in Scotland leaving me on the bed totally worn out and sobbing.
She was as bright as a button, friendly, charming and gregarious, caring, polite and attentive all the way through the pre-dinner drinks and the lovely salad and pasta meal served by a Philipino girl who was very petite and pretty. Marcia was so different to how she'd been in my room but so similar to how she had been at the previous dinner we'd shared. As we sipped brandy from big crystal snifters she asked if I'd enjoyed the last time and I nodded that I had. She took a big swig, put the glass down and then said quite firmly.
"Good, I'm pleased because I want to have you again. Tonight, now."
The change in her was amazing and this authoritative manner sent a shudder through me. Was it of fright, anticipation or pleasure? I didn't know but immediately she started that way I felt my will dissolving and myself coming under her control.
"I want you to go upstairs to the first bedroom on the right, get undressed and lay on your front in the middle of the bed," she said without batting an eyelid. I didn't move so she went on, "and I mean Amanda, do it now."
I was powerless to refuse and meekly I got up and went up the stairs. It wasn't a large room, but then this was incredibly expensive Hampstead, but it was beautifully furnished in Victorian style which, actually, I don't really like. The bed was covered in a deep crimson throw and was one of those old fashioned jobs with huge sturdy looking bed heads and footings. The walls were dark and there were a couple of chairs, a stand alone wardrobe and a dressing table all in a dark wood, mahogany I guessed.
Out of her presence I couldn't hardly believe I was actually taking my clothes off and doing what she had ordered but when I heard footsteps on the stairs I hurriedly laid down on my front as she had told me. I was somewhat frightened of her and as I said earlier very much in awe of her as well.
I became captivated by Marcia very quickly. The truth probably is that she captured me that night. Needless to say I had never been treated like that before. No one had treated me with that combination of worship over my physical being but an almost total disdain for my emotions. Nobody had so taken control and applied such a dominance on me. I had never been treated with such disdain, so much matter of factness, almost to the point of being abused and degraded. But in a way of which I had absolutely no comprehension that, maybe, was the magnet. I was certainly drawn to it as powerfully as an unlike pole is drawn to a like one.
I looked up as she came into the room carrying two glasses of wine. Handing one to me she sat on the bed in a long, bright red, silk robe she'd changed into and smiling asked, gently how I was. She softly ran her fingers up and down my spine and over my shoulder muttering how beautiful I was and what a lovely body I had. She could not have been softer or more gentle or more caring and tender as she kissed me and then started caressing me. Slowly and so expertly, I could now acknowledge, she built up the desire and tension in me until I was literally panting and sighing. She was so different to last time, kissing and gently stroking me making me feel wonderful, so desired and so female.
She kissed my breasts, caressed me all over using her fingers and hands so expertly on my pussy and bottom and nipples. Opening her robe she pressed her nipples to my mouth making low growling noises as I sucked and chewed on them. Pushing me onto my back she knelt beside me as she continued stroking me softly and tenderly building me up further and further. Smiling and grinning at me encouragingly and tenderly I could hardly believe it was the same person as before.
She leaned forward so that she could chew my nipples and slid her knee between my thighs pushing them open a little. Slowly as she orally loved my breasts she pushed her knee upwards until the part just above it pressed right against my pussy. It felt wonderful for my whole body was tingling with sexual expectancy. She pressed it harder and I felt myself pressing back. She kissed me and used her hands on my breasts pinching my nipples with just the right amount of pressure to fill me even more, if that was possible, with the need for sexual relief. Her knee pressed harder against me and I felt my thighs involuntarily squeezing it. I squeezed it harder and harder and she pushed more firmly. I squirmed against it and she began to fuck me with it. Or was it me fucking myself, or me fucking her leg. I didn't know and it didn't matter for I was getting exactly what I wanted and that was for this amazing woman to fuck me any way she wanted.
I orgasmed very heavily and put my arms out for her to cuddle me but even as I was in the early intense, throes of that climax she got off the bed and walked out of the room. I could hardly believe it for the pangs of my orgasm were still bursting through my body and the woman who had caused that and with whom I wanted to share it had left me.
I lay there my hands between my own legs finishing myself off my body racked with the sensations of the orgasm and with the deep sobs that I couldn't prevent. She just left me there for ages and I didn't know what to do. "Surely she's going to come back," I thought. But as time wore on I began to doubt it and started to get dressed. I wandered down the stairs and could see no one or hear anything so I let myself out and went home alone.
This was the crazy thing about Marcia, the surprises she sprung on me. One moment loving and tender the next ruthless and uncaring. Most people would have thought after that demeaning experience with her that I would not have wanted anything more to do with her. I thought that at first but about ten days later, prissy mouth Jean called again and said that Marcia wanted me to have dinner with her at Le Caprice, one of London's smartest restaurants. I was determined to say no, but like a little lamb I didn't and agreed that I would meet her there at nine the next evening.
