This is part of a much longer story and to get the most enjoyment from this chapter you should really read the previous 13 chapters first. You might also like to read my short story "The Chair of Four Pleasures" to better understand what happens to Stevie.
I hope you like reading about my most exciting and fulfilling evening since I joined Passionella. It's 4 pages long, so lie back and enjoy the party.
There are only three more chapters still to come but lots more sexy action that will take your breath away.
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I was pleased to find that, far from being a seedy back-street tattoo parlour, the body-piercing clinic was a bright and clean establishment that would put many doctors' and dentists' surgeries to shame. The proprietor was pretty and polite, dressed in a tight white uniform with the top three buttons undone. She had a small intriguing tattoo on the top of her left breast and she smiled when she saw me looking at it, commenting: "that's nothing, I have many more. Secrets. In places you'd never imagine." She leaned forward on her desk with her chin cupped in her hands, and looked up at me with her large brown eyes.
I was ushered me into a side room where she explained the procedure in detail, including the minor risks of complications and the lengths to which she goes to minimise them. Then she showed me numerous trays of jewellery from which I chose my 'starters'. I selected sterling silver bars with rounded ball ends. Ms White Uniform suggested I also buy a pair of small rings that I could fit later, and to which, she explained, I could attach all kinds of other adornments. That sounded fun.
I decided to go ahead right there and then and signed the consent forms. The process was quick and almost painless and she made the whole experience quite enjoyable.
Standing up carefully, I looked in the mirror and liked what I saw. The jewellery attracted attention to my nipples, which were pink and slightly swollen. I carefully eased my boobs back into my bra and dressed. Then I had an idea.
"Do you ever work in people's own premises, such as a place of work?" I enquired.
She said she had on occasions, and asked what I had in mind. I told her that I was planning an intimate party for some friends and colleagues and would she be interested in coming along with her equipment to provide 'additional services'. She jumped at the chance, but I explained I would have to run the idea past my employer, who would discuss a commission deal. I was delighted with my new accessories, and my special service to be made available in the Black Room.
My nipples were sore for a few days, and in any case I'd fucked my way through most of the week and needed a break so I avoided all situations that might cause me to become aroused for fear that my nipples would stiffen. Terri my maid and 'close friend' commented that I was acting very strangely, quite stand-offish and avoiding her. I promised her there was a reason, which I would reveal to her soon. I also had to explain why I had been out the previous Saturday when she came to clean. She made me promise that I'd be more attentive when she called the following week and she promised to bring 'something for me to try'. I tried to guess what that might mean, and my tender nipples protested at my erotic imaginings.
I planned to stay in London the whole of the following week, mostly supervising the finishing stages of Black Private Room. On the Monday evening (sent to my personal not my company e-mail address) I received an invitation from Vikki to a 'Private Showing' at PROM. From the wording, I realised this was to be the first of the private parties organised by Rachel, to be held in the Private Rooms at Passionella HQ. Dress code was described as White Cocktail so I decided I'd put Stevie's suggestion to the test.
Alone in my apartment I tried on a skimpy white waspie under a short, clingy strapless cocktail dress. I thought I'd wear it without tights or stockings so I just put on some strappy high heels. The dress was made from a continuous tight spiral of crushed white fabric over a sheer body-hugging stretch liner and only attached at the side seams, allowing tantalising glimpses of the semi-transparent sheath as I moved. My breasts, lifted and supported by the half-cups of the waspie, rose proudly above the top edge of the dress. My nipples were no longer sore and the material pressed against their adornments, communicating pleasurable feelings deep into me. The tops of my thighs were pinched by the tight hem, which rode up when I walked forcing me to totter if I wanted to maintain any sort of decency.
'Sexy enough to kill at 20 paces', I thought to myself as I admired my reflection in the mirror. Sensual rather than tarty, sophisticated yet overtly seductive. Passionella's highest-spending client by far, regularly seen in all the retail outlets as she travels around the country for her recruitment company. Intimate acquaintance of many of the Dems and willing to try just about anything in the changing rooms. Expensive car, nice city-centre apartment, seemingly unlimited budget. Almost too good to be true.
I wondered who else would be at the party whom I already knew, or might like to meet. Of one thing I could be sure, there would be no men.
The rest of the week dragged by, seemingly full of reports and paperwork and administration connected with finalising my project and I found difficulty keeping my mind on the job. Admin is not my favourite activity. But on Friday morning I inspected the nearly-finished room, which looked like it was going to be completed on time. Almost everything was in place and the room need little more than a thorough clean, ready for Linda's final approval. The seductive atmosphere of the dark interior was punched by high-intensity lighting and the air was filled with a mixture of sensual aromas and the unmistakable smell of quality leather.
I'd chosen two narrow, padded benches, just the right height to lie back on whilst your partner stands astride your face or kneels at one end to give you pleasure.
On one wall was a padded X-shape, roughly the size and shape of a human standing in the spread-eagle position, but certainly androgynous. It had handholds and footrests, anchor points for belts and straps and a large dildo, adjustable for height and angle depending on whether the captive user might be secured front or back to the wall and which orifice it was intended to penetrate.
Suspended from the ceiling by several chains was a multi-purpose sling. The manufacturer had delighted in explaining how her product was specially designed to support the user face up or face down, making it 'ideal for extended periods of licking', she told me. The ceiling, walls and floor were provided with numerous additional anchor points so as not to limit the resourcefulness and imagination of the clients.
Like the other Private Rooms, Black had an en-suite bathroom, and also a dressing room that would soon be stocked with the latest designs from the Pleasure In Control range, including latex rubber dresses, catsuits, corsets etc, that could be worn in public at the right occasion, and several leather suits and outfits. I rummaged through the bags and boxes on the floor, admiring the new products made to Linda's exacting specifications. I held up some of the costumes (this seemed to be a much more suitable description than 'clothes'), stood in front of a large mirror and imagined how I would look in them.
I couldn't wait for Vikki's private party later that evening but I still found time to drop into a new erotic shop that had recently opened just off Oxford Street, strictly for professional reasons, to compare their offerings with my employer's lines. I was intrigued by their accessories and bought a set of beautifully crafted Pleasure-Jewellery which included some weights to hang from my nipple rings, and a couple of girl-on-girl DVDs which promised 'explicit scenes of mutual pleasure-giving'. Sounded like my sort of thing.
But my mind was on a much more enjoyable activity. The rest of Friday was scheduled in my planner:
