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Fiona’s story.
I was totally bored with my job so when Fleur appeared at the head of my queue it was a welcome distraction. We’d been sort of friends at school but had gone our separate ways since then. I don’t think she ever realised it, but I had a secret crush on her for most of our school days. I admit I was a stroppy bitch in those days, probably more so than most teenage girls. I’d rebelled against the so-called tyranny of exams and had ended up with almost no qualifications. And look what good it had done me. Stuck in some dead-end job working for some vast fast-food corporation, the tiniest of tiny cogs in a huge global machine.
Even so I was a bit shocked when she started to talk about what she did although I mellowed when she mentioned the money she made and the hours she worked. She certainly gave off the appearance of someone who was doing alright for herself. She told me to think it over and gave me a smart-looking business card with her number on it.
I was already at the point of regretting decisions I’d made earlier in my life and it didn’t take long for me to see the plus points of her proposal. It only took the time to get out of my works uniform and to take a shower to rid myself of the rank smell of fried chicken for me to come to a decision. Instead of waiting till the next day I phoned her that evening and told her “Yes”.
I went around the next evening straight after work to the address she’d given me. I was introduced to Mrs.B, a smartly dressed and slightly formidable woman who grilled me about my background and my current job. When she explained what the job entailed, she made it sound even more enticing than Fleur had done the day before. Then she sprang the dinner invitation on me.
Most of the rest about that night you know. I was taken into another office next door and squeezed into a dress that was a little small for me, but which did make me look quite elegant. Fleur had already come prepared in a red dress that clung to her like a second skin. It had long sleeves and a high neck at the front. The only skin showing was almost too much of her legs and what was shown by the back of the dressed that scooped so low that it stopped only just short of the point of indecency. I could already see hints of her nipples through the tight fabric and I wondered how much they would show if she became excited. I started to wonder if maybe my schoolgirl dreams about her might come true this evening.
I found out a lot that night. I found out that Mrs.B was not one to be trifled with although I also saw her softer, caring side. I found out that Fleur tasted so much better than any of my fantasies had ever allowed. I also found out things about myself that I had hidden away for years and suddenly surfaced at the behest of Mrs.B. Her air of confidence as we’d walked to and from the restaurant had already made me feel empowered. However, it was also made very clear that she was in charge.
Back at her apartment, in the bedroom, I felt compelled to do whatever she told me. I also felt a strange relief at not having to decide anything. I felt free of responsibility and it felt wonderful. When I was told to kneel on the floor with my bottom in the air it felt both odd and right at the same time. When Fleur was told to spank me, I tensed up but as she smacked me harder and harder, I could feel myself getting turned on. Mrs.B’s hand was soft and soothing on my back and although the spanking stung, I could feel something trickling down my thighs. When Fleur stopped and climbed onto the bed and I was presented with a close-up view of her pussy it was like all my Christmases had come at once.
When I got Fleur to come, I thought that would be enough. I hadn’t yet cum despite Mrs.B’s fingers teasing and playing with my pussy. My head was pushed back down, and I was made to continue. I managed to make her cum at least twice more, but I was kept teetering on the brink. I was almost screaming to be allowed to cum when I was finally released. A finger going into my arsehole was what finally pushed me over the edge. It was by far the best orgasm of my young life. I’d waited twenty years for that moment and, oh wow, was it worth it.
The next day it didn’t seem to matter that we were still naked, and we wandered around the apartment giggling together and often kissing. When I was presented with a contract, I had no hesitation in signing it. Little did I know the special role she’d dreamt up for me. It took me less than a week to find out. I was taken out two days later with Mrs.B and a friend of hers. It was a bit strange being asked to have sex with an older woman but in fact it turned out really well. She was very skilled at what she did, and I came several times. I also managed to get her off more than once. The thick wad of crisp notes at the end was an added bonus.
Three days later Mrs.B called me into the office and sat me down on her big red leather sofa. I was to be sent out on my own for the first bayrampaşa escort time. She explained that she had a client with very specific requirements. I was a bit puzzled when she said that, but she started to explain.
“Remember your first visit here?” she asked. How could I forget! “Remember when I got Fleur to spank you?” I nodded, starting to blush. “You must admit you enjoyed that.” I looked at my feet and nodded my head in agreement as the memories came rushing back. Oh, fuck, I’d loved every moment.
“I have a friend,” she went on after a pause, “who also enjoys doing what Fleur did. I’m sure you and she would get on really well together.”
I’m not stupid and it wouldn’t take a genius to work out what she was asking. The hidden demon that had appeared the other night started to appear again. I remembered how each sting of Fleur’s hand had sent a jolt of electricity directly to my pussy. It had been so amazing, I wanted that experience again. Of course, I said yes. The booking, one of the Agency’s first proper ones, was for this evening and I only had just enough time to dash back to my grotty little bedsit and get showered and changed. I’d been given the brief to wear something sexy and slutty, so I opted for a cut-off t-shirt that just covered my boobs and the skimpiest pair of shorts I had. Back in my rebellious days I’d once cut the legs off a pair of jeans, but I’d gone too far and now there was little left. I decided to go without any underwear as I thought that might be appreciated.
I got a taxi back to the office and nearly blew the driver’s mind. I was just in time for Mrs.B to inspect me and to approve of my choice before the phone rang.
“She’s downstairs in a car, waiting for you,” Mrs.B announced, “Have fun.” She grinned knowingly as I made my way down the stairs. I looked left and right and saw a large black car parked across one end of the alley with its door opened. Luckily there was no one else in sight as I made a dash for the opened door. It shut automatically behind me and I went to sit on the tan leather seat, but I was pushed back down onto the floor. I risked taking a quick glance at the client. I guessed she was late thirties, with blonde hair. She stared straight ahead, not looking at me. She was wearing a long black coat and shiny black leather boots.
“Jeez,” she said, almost to herself, “what sort of cheap tart is this agency supplying. Oh well, I’ll have to make the best of a bad job. We’d better go straight back to my home. No decent restaurant would let you through the door. Straight home please, Beth,” she ordered the driver.
From my place in the footwell of the back seat I could see nothing of the scenery outside and I had no idea where we were going. During the journey she said nothing to me but even the cruelty of her silence started to get me aroused. By the time I heard the car tyres crunching on a gravel drive and slowing to a halt the crotch of my shorts, what little there was, had become soaked.
I felt a sudden inrush of cool evening air as the door behind me opened. Her booted foot caught me by surprised and I was sprawled on the gravel drive. The sharp chips of small stone dug harshly into my back. I was dazed and confused but heard a voice above me.
“That will be all for tonight, Beth, I won’t need you again tonight.”
As I started to roll over, I caught sight of her booted legs stepping out of the car. I was starting to try and get up when she took hold of my hair and hauled me to my feet and marched me toward the grand front entrance of a large house. The low sun lit it face on giving the pale stone tints of red and orange. She opened the door and pushed me inside. I stumbled and nearly fell again but managed to stay up right. I turned to confront her. She’d hung her coat up and was standing facing me. She looked like the figure from everybody’s worst nightmare. She was wearing a corset that nipped in tightly at the waist and appeared to be made of black leather. Her breasts were struggling to stay inside it and bulged out erotically. I could see just the hint of her areola peeking over the top. The boots that I’d seen in the car went past her knees and midway up her thigh. Her pussy was naked and, it seemed to me, proudly on display, hairless and already showing signs of arousal. She walked straight past me and started to climb the grand staircase with the simple “Follow” command urging me on.
My rough handling so far had caused my cut-off t-shirt to ride up and my left breast was exposed so, as I followed her up the stairs, I tugged my t-shirt down and tried to straighten myself out. Despite my treatment I could feel my own arousal with each step as my shorts were tightly wedged between the lips of my pussy. Every stair was a reminder of why I was here, and my excitement grew as we reached the top. I was very close to tipping over the edge and I stumbled and nearly fell up the last stair.
“Get a move on, beykoz escort bitch,” was her only response as she led the way into what must have been the main bedroom. There was a large four-poster bed taking up most of one half, the biggest bed I’d ever seen. I had no chance to look round the room any further before she pointed at the bed.
“Lie there, bitch.”
I quickly scrambled onto the bed and lay down looking up at her wondering what she was going to do or say next. In an odd way the total lack of social niceties was comforting. If she’d asked me how I was or offered me any refreshment I think it would have unnerved me. As it was, I had no choice in anything, and her commands were clear and simple. I was left with nothing to do but obey her. she stood at one side of the bed and held out her hand.
“Give me your hand.”
I nervously offered my closest hand and she grabbed it by the wrist and pulled it to the top of the bed. I felt something soft and pliable wrap around it and by the time it had registered enough for me to turn my head she had put a leather cuff on me and buckled it in place. I gave it a feeble tug, but I had already guessed that it was fastened to one of the four posts. She seemed to take my lack of protest as a sort of permission and she strolled leisurely round the bed to the other side. Again, she held out her hand and this time I offered mine without asking. My two arms were stretched out above my head and fastened securely to the two top corners of the bed. She smiled at me before she moved to the foot of the bed.
One by one my ankles were taken and subjected to the same treatment. She had to drag me down the bed to make me reach and the cuffs at all four corners were then tight on me. She stood for a moment looking down at my helpless figure a half-smile of satisfaction for a job well done just showing on her face. Then she walked off out of sight and I was left to contemplate my predicament. When she returned, I had a sudden feeling of alarm. She was carrying a very large pair of scissors.
She went back to standing at the foot of the bed and, one by one, she cut through the laces of my sneakers and pulled them of, tossing them to one side. They were quickly followed by my socks. She teased me by tracing along the bottom of one of my feet with the point of the scissors and I feared for the worst. But she soon relented and came around to the side. She climbed onto the bed, threw one leg over me and sat on my tummy. She towered over me, scissors in hand, and I tried not to look terrified. With practised skill she applied them to my top, making a cut along each arm and then a slow and sensuous cut all the way up the front. Momentarily I was annoyed. I quite liked that top and she could have told me to take it off before she cuffed me to the bed. The tattered rag that it now was, scraped across my back as she tugged it out from underneath me.
She looked down to see what her clothes butchery had revealed. My small breasts were flattened against me, but my nipples betrayed my feeling. They stood out invitingly and she accepted the invitation. I was glad when she put the scissors to one side, but I wasn’t ready for her next move. There was a rattling sound as she leaned to one side and picked up something on the bedside table. I knew immediately what they were, and my heart sank. I’d seen enough porn in my short life to recognise nipple clamps. My nipples seemed to be standing out, eagerly asking for them. And she was generous enough to honour their request.
Oh fuck! I knew they were going to hurt but not that much. I yelped when the first one went on but was more prepared for the second. For a few seconds I took deep breaths to calm myself. They were joined by a fine chain and, when she had attached them to her satisfaction, she hooked a finger under the middle of the chain and lifted. I yelped again, louder this time. The harder she pulled the more tightly they gripped me. My breasts were pulled into distorted peaks, sticking straight up. She was looking straight into my eyes to see my reaction, and the pained expression seemed to please her. She continued to watch me as she alternately pulled and relaxed on the chain. Slowly the sharp pain turned into an aching throb. And I began to breathe more easily.
Whether by accident or manipulation I’m not sure, but her breasts now clearly showed above her corset. It was acting as a prop to hold them up. They were larger than mine, which isn’t difficult, but nicely proportioned. I tried to concentrate on them to take my mind off the suffering my own were going through. Then I found another thing to distract me. Her corset stopped just below the waist leaving her pussy clearly visible. The way she was sitting across me made it gape open. I could clearly see the red interior that shone with her juices. In fact, they were leaking out and beginning to coat my tummy, but she seemed oblivious to that. Either that or it was a deliberate beylikdüzü escort way of putting me in my place. Secretly I loved the fact that I had aroused her so much.
I felt the chain drop onto my chest as she reached to one side and picked up the scissors again. She shuffled herself further down until she was straddling my knees, leaving a shiny deposit glistening around my belly button. There was a rasp as she tugged down the zipper of my shorts and she quickly hacked at them until they could be pulled away. The teeth of the zipper painfully scratched across the cheeks of my bottom. The remnants of my shorts were thrown to one side and she looked down at my pussy. She had said nothing all this time but now she finally broke the silence.
“It looks like my little slut is already having fun,” she taunted me and traced a finger along the length of my wet pussy. Witty remarks about pots and kettles flashed through my mind but I held my tongue. She licked her lips before climbing over me and off the bed. Again, she went out of sight. I was relieved that she took the scissors with her. I felt less vulnerable knowing they weren’t around. When she returned, she was holding her weapon of choice, a large and very powerful looking vibrator. She sat on the side of the bed and looked at me. She switched it on low and a quiet hum filled the air.
“There is only one rule, slut,” she said with a serious expression, “you may not orgasm without my permission so you must ask first. Is that understood?”
I nodded my head, biting my bottom lip with nervousness.
“Say it, bitch,” she demanded, her voice slightly threatening.
“Yes, Miss,” I managed to squeeze out of my mouth.
That seemed to satisfy her, and she turned the vibrator up another notch and the hum got louder and the pitch higher. She then swivelled round and applied it to my pussy. That was when the torture began. I’d heard about their reputation, but I wasn’t expecting anything like I now felt. It seemed to travel right the way through me. I swear, if my mouth hadn’t been firmly shut to stop myself yelling, you would have heard my teeth rattle. Oh fuck, it was wonderful. I was already halfway there even before she started, and I quickly felt myself getting close. That familiar feeling started to surface however hard I tried to push it down. I opened my eyes and looked up at her, to plead with her, but she wasn’t looking at my face.
“Please, Miss,” I managed to blurt out.
She glanced at me. “Please what?” she demanded.
“Please may I cum, Miss.”
She seemed to think about it for a moment and then the vibrator was gone, and she was pulling once more on the chain linking my nipples.
“No, bitch, you may not. Not yet.”
This time she pulled on the chain even harder and my boobs were stretched to their limits and the clamps bit even tighter than before. She pulled them this way and that, each angle producing a different sort of hurt. I was fighting the urge so hard not to shout out that I didn’t notice that the vibrator had returned to my pussy. It was only when she dropped the chain that I noticed. The manipulation with the chain and the clamps had pushed my arousal onto the back-burner but I knew it hadn’t gone far. She did something on the handle of the vibe and the buzz went up another note on the scale. She knew what she was doing, sliding it up to my clit and then away again, over and over. I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer.
“Please, Miss … may … cum?” I managed to say through gritted teeth.
This time I was almost expecting her response. The vibe disappeared and the chain was grabbed and pulled. I was almost in tears. I looked down and my boobs were being pulled into nightmarish shapes. My whole body was glistening with perspiration. The pain seemed to last even longer this time until finally she put the chain down and the vibe came back. This time I knew what to expect and tried to ignore what my body was screaming for. But it had a mind of its own and the inevitable build up came and grew and grew and I had no choice but to plead with her once more. Again, I was denied.
I lost count of the number of times I nearly got there or the number of times the pain went through my nipples. It seemed to go on for hours. Each time I pleaded with a hope that was dashed. Then, after the umpteenth time, when I was in tears, and nearly beyond speech, I begged her once again. There was a long pause and then, oh fuck, the magic words.
“Yes, slut, you may.”
I just let go and gushed like I’d never done before. I went to some other realm, some higher plain. For a long while I couldn’t find my way back to reality, I just remember being at peace. Undoubtedly it had been the best cum of my life, but it was also more than that. Slowly she came back into focus. The vibe had gone, and she was smiling at me. She gently reached down and pulled stray hairs from my sweaty and tear-stained face.
“Welcome back, little slut,” she said almost affectionately.
I managed a wan smile in response. I couldn’t trust myself to speak quite yet. She held up the dreaded chain for me to see but didn’t tug on it this time.
“I have to take the clamps off and that may hurt a little, be brave little slut.”
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