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Chapter 12
I had nothing planned for the weekend, but I had new toys to play with. I spent Friday evening alone, catching up on some domestic affairs, e-mail correspondence and my personal finances. Since starting at Passionella I'd had no money worries and I had become increasingly altruistic, giving to several charities and anonymously helping out old friends who were struggling to make ends meet. I'd been trying to masturbate less often, as I was finding that quantity is no substitute for quality. I had been masturbating at least once every day and the shine was wearing off, although my recently-purchased but as yet untried vibrators promised renewed interest. Also, I never knew when I might need to able to 'perform' in a Passionella store changing room in order to maintain credibility as a platinum-card-carrying prized Passionella client eager to try every product and service on offer. I treated myself to an early night and I slept in 'til Saturday lunchtime.
I woke feeling horny, having resisted the temptation to pleasure myself for a whole week despite some highly arousing encounters including poolside posing with the exquisitely sexy Danielle and watching Linda frig herself in her office, one of the most erotically-charged situations in which I'd ever found myself. Knowing that self-denial can be more enjoyable than quick & easy satisfaction, I suppressed my arousal and busied myself over a very late breakfast, planning to try out my new 'soft-feel' blue vibrator later in the day.
The late spring weather was fine and dry so I decided upon a drive in the country, to put my other new toy, my sports car, through its paces. I thought I might drop by a friend or just catch up on some sightseeing.
I showered and dressed for the occasion and weather in a very short skirt, a sleeveless top, skimpy silk bra and thong-back panties and little else. I headed west out of London and soon found some quiet backroads in Berkshire where I could enjoy the acceleration and handling of my transport of delight.
I'd never owned a car with leather seats before and I found the soft feel of the quality hide to be very comfortable, if a little slippery until the heat from my body warmed up the seat. As I swooped around tight corners, accelerated and braked I found myself enjoying the feel of the leather under my thighs. The hem of my skirt gradually rode up and my bare bum made contact with the seat, considerably increasing the pleasant sensations. This, combined with the adrenaline rush I got from the fantastic driving experience gave me such a thrill that I risked losing concentration. I wriggled the fabric of my skirt out from under me so the whole of my bum cheeks pressed against the leather and I started to understand why some people find leather to be such a turn-on. In fact, I was becoming quite aroused and had to slow down and concentrate hard on my driving.
I pulled into a small car-park in the centre of Windsor to find somewhere for lunch and had to pull down my skirt to avoid making an exhibition of myself. As it was, my slightly-erect nipples poked through my soft-cup bra and made small peaks in the front of my slinky top and I bared long expanses of smooth, muscular legs as I stepped out of my low car, attracting some admiring glances. I'd probably given a small group seated outside a bar on the opposite side of the road a flash of my panties, but I didn't care. I slung my bag over my shoulder and I felt like I was on top of the world as I strutted confidently along the riverbank, pretending not to notice the attention I received from both male and female passers-by.
I sat down at a prominent table outside a small restaurant and ordered a long cold drink. This did nothing to cool my passions and I began to feel very, very horny. My nipples tingled and my pussy had made my underwear uncomfortably damp. From where I sat I could watch some very attractive and well-dressed men and women walk by; I particularly enjoy following the predominantly (but not exclusively) male pastime know as 'Is she or isn't she' - wearing a bra, that is. Much easier in the warm weather, of course, and more often than not my conclusion was 'no'. I felt so very randy, a feeling accentuated by my voluntary abstinence that I was beginning to think was not such a good idea after all. I finished my main course and decided I'd have to do something about my elevated state of arousal. I could lock myself in the ladies room and rub myself off. I could drive to a quiet spot in the country and perhaps lie back in a field and take more time to pleasure myself, or …
I reached in my bag and was delighted to find that I still had it with me, unopened and untried. I'd simply forgotten to unpack it when I got home from my last trip to York. I ordered a large dessert and strolled to the ladies room, trying to look nonchalant and to conceal my excitement and impatience,
Locking the door, I ripped my ‘Butterfly' discreet vibrator from its packing and inserted the batteries into the variable-speed power pack. I pulled my damp silk panties down to my knees and slipped the main part of the toy between my legs, ensuring that the central 'body' sat deep between my pussy lips, just like in the picture. The 'wings' spread out over my labia and I tied the ribbons around the tops on my thighs and my waist as instructed. I pulled up my thong panties, which only just concealed my new accessory, and pulled down my skirt. Now I didn't dare to bend down, as unfortunately the manufacturer's idea of 'flesh-colour' did not match mine. I concealed the power pack as best I could and reached for the On switch.
A pulse of raw sexual stimulation rushed through my nervous system as the tiny vibrating body buzzed against my clit. I felt weak at the knees and had to switch it off at once.
Setting the speed lower did not help much, and on a higher speed I feared it might be overheard. Still, I was up for the challenge so I took my seat outside just as my gateau arrived. I pressed the switch and tried hard to concentrate on eating. Wave after wave of arousing, tingling vibrations filled my pussy and travelled up to my responsive nipples. I felt an orgasm start to build so I turned it off, taking a deep breath and suppressing the feelings as much as possible.
I wasn't going to rush this. I recognised the potential for some highly erotic experiences.
I called over the waiter and clicked the On switch just as he arrived at my table. My hands were shaking and my voice wavered as I thanked him and paid the bill. He asked if I was feeling unwell and offered me a glass of water but I told him I felt OK and left.
OK? I felt fantastic! I tried to walk along the riverside towpath but the sensations were so strong I had to stop every 20 yards or so to let the feelings subside. When I arrived back at the town centre, I sought out a doorway where I was not in anyone's way but where I knew I could be seen by the affluent Saturday afternoon shoppers. I took out a small map and pretended to me finding my way, and turned up the speed.
I had to hold onto the doorway with one hand and lock my knees to prevent myself from falling.
I needed to know that people were looking at me and I tried to keep my eyes open but found it impossible. I desperately wanted to squeeze my legs together and to cry out. Beads of perspiration trickled down my face, my neck and my back and I bit my bottom lip as a long-pent-up climax broke fee and raced through my aching, tormented body. I shuddered but tried to stand still on weak legs. My breathing was very shallow and fast and my pussy pulsed and throbbed as the feelings washed over me, and eventually subsided.
I flicked off the switch; when I opened my eyes, I saw a young woman standing next to me. "Are you ill?" she enquired. I collected my senses and thanked her for asking. She explained that she was a nurse and thought I might be having an epileptic fit. I pretended that I suffered from migraines but would be fine soon.
During that afternoon, I teased myself to another 3 orgasms. One sitting outside a town-centre café, one whilst walking through a shopping crowded arcade and one sitting cross-legged on a high bar-stool with my skirt having ridden very high up my legs. If anything, the more public the location, the more exciting I found the experience even if successive orgasms were slightly less powerful. In the bar I was fairly sure that the very sophisticated, smartly-dressed woman sitting across the room knew exactly what I was doing, or was having done to me. When my short-but-sweet orgasm had passed she caught my eye, smiled and winked knowingly.
As one last treat, I switched my pleasure-provider onto maximum whilst waiting at traffic lights on my way home. The guy behind tooted me when the lights changed to green at the exact moment I climaxed for a fifth time, the extra rush of adrenaline adding to the pleasure.
When I finally got home I removed my new-found fun-giver and carefully rubbed some cold, soothing lotion into my pussy and the tops of my legs where the device and its ribbons had begin to cut into me. I made two promises to myself before falling into a deep, satisfied sleep. To find new and ever more daring places in which to bring myself off, and to buy some leather clothes.
I'd set myself a busy schedule for the following week, spending time in London as well as the provinces, and meeting the company's contracted photographer for the first time. As Linda had promised during my early days at Passionella, I had been invited to model some products for a new short-form catalogue to be made available to clients in the stores and electronically. I was surprised (I don't know why) to find that the studio photographer that Charlotte regularly used was a woman. I met her on the Monday evening for a preliminary meeting so she could explain what I would be expected to do at the shoot. Diane was about 40 years old and very energetic and enthusiastic about her work. Not unattractive herself, she was quite short with a rounded, mature figure. She looked vaguely familiar, as though I had seen her somewhere before.
She put me totally at ease, complimenting the way I dressed, stood, walked and smiled. I made an appointment for the Wednesday of the following week; 8:00 am with the hairstylist, 9:30 with the manicurist, 10:00 in makeup, 12:30 test shots, lunch, stylists and dressers, etc, etc, etc, until we actually start shooting at 2:30! I was told to expect to be at the studio until at least 10:00 p.m. – it was going to be a long day with a lot of hanging around. I'd take loads of magazines and my laptop computer to pass the time.
Monday evening I sat down and thoroughly re-read Linda's letter:
“Dear friends,
Passionella has grown quickly to become one of the most respected and highly profitable lingerie brands in Britain. We are recognised as a leader not a follower, giving women of taste and sophistication exactly what they want, to please themselves and their closest friends and partners.
However, the world of fashion changes fast and this applies to lingerie as much as to day and eveningwear. I have given a great deal of thought to the forward direction of the company, its brand and its products, with much valued help from colleagues and valued clients. I then reinforced my thinking during an exciting and enjoyable week spent out on the sales floors.
To avoid any possibility of our company being left behind, I am planning a major repositioning of Passionella UK. I will focus on only 3 important market sectors, as I believe it is wrong for us to try to cater for every possible customer desire in a complex wide-ranging marketplace. Our offering has become confused and we risk losing our identity.
Therefore, I plan just 3 product line offerings. This will result in some popular Passionella lines being withdrawn from sale in the UK and we must expect some adverse reaction from clients but we must overcome these by promoting the new image and offering to win over our customers' hearts and minds.
1) A limited line of 'everyday basics', similar to the high-street chain-store offerings, but characterised by Passionella traditions of highest quality of fabrics and manufacture, restrained, simple but distinctive styling and the latest fashion colours. Products will be limited to bras, pants in only 2 or 3 cuts, and camisoles.
2) Luxury, exotic garments for which the word lingerie is inappropriate. These products will sacrifice comfort and practicality for overt sexual provocation, high degrees on body shaping and support, groundbreaking designs, colours, textures & detailing together with unrivalled Italian artistic flair. Product lines will include 'extreme' bras, sexy pants, corsets, bustière, basques and suspenders.
3) A new departure into what I can best describe as 'high-fashion-fetish'. Many of you will have noticed the increasing availability of underwear aimed at the woman who likes to take charge in the bedroom. Unfortunately, much of this is cheaply-made and overpriced. But many of our clients require the utmost discretion and expect the ultimate in quality and personal service that they receive at a Passionella outlet; they are unwilling to shop in seedy high-street and side-street shops. I intend to fulfil all their expectations with a range to be called 'Pleasure In Control'. The imagery is pure sexual assertion portrayed through the use of unconventional materials including polyurethane and soft supple leather fashioned into extreme designs incorporating, for example, restraints and points of attachment.
Some of your clients' favourite styles will disappear from the rails but will be replaced with some of the most desirable products available anywhere. You will all be fully trained and will be generously rewarded for successfully introducing the new lines over a managed period of time. Your supervisors will be in contact with you shortly; I know I can rely on your support.
Yours, Linda.”
Brilliant! And Linda had either judged the mood just as I had or had paid close attention to my field reports. I couldn't wait to see and try some of this new stuff.
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"You're looking pretty hot, Julia," Linda observed correctly (I was unsure what meaning she attached to the word 'hot'), continuing: "Come and get a drink".
I'd arrived a few minutes early at the restaurant but Linda was there waiting for me. She was looking smart but relaxed in a tight white top, obviously with no bra underneath, and black jeans. I'd been looking forward to this evening immensely but could only guess how it might unfold. The weather was beautiful: hot, dry and sunny all day and just slightly cooler in the evening. I'd tried to catch the mood and dressed in a newly-acquired tight leather dress that reached halfway down my thighs and had elbow-length sleeves and a full-length front zipper that could be unzipped from both ends. This allowed me to split the front as high as I needed to in order to walk and as low as I cared or dared, to show a cleavage. Linda was right - it was hot inside, and I looked hot.
We discussed Linda's letter and we agreed on virtually everything. I suggested some minor changes to the wording then Linda showed me preliminary design sketches from the studios in Italy. They looked terrific but I sensed her mind was distracted by other priorities. She pushed her food around her plate and paid the bill without even asking if I wanted dessert.
"Do you mind if we continue our meeting in my office, where we can talk more privately" she asked, putting her hand on my arm.
This was becoming more exciting as I anticipated something more physical than just conversation. "Sure" I replied.
We walked briskly back to PROM, my leather dress flapping sensually around my bare legs.
The building was I darkness. Linda locked the front door behind us, but instead of taking the main staircase, she led me straight into Gold Private Room. My heart missed a beat and I presumed that the serious business meeting was now over.
"No problem this evening, we are totally alone." she reassured me, pouring me a long soft drink. "We can relax."
'Relax!' I thought. How could I relax when I'm in one of these rooms that holds so many connotations, and I'm with an attractive woman who, last time we were alone together in this building, frigged herself off in front of me in such a highly arousing and exhibitionistic way, … if that's a real word.
"Sit down," Linda insisted, "let me explain:
“Over the last few weeks since our time together in Regent Street, I've had to deal with a deep-seated and complex emotional web of shame, guilt, self-doubt, revulsion, bitterness, loneliness and frustration.
Wow.
“I've pondered long over whether I really did want to be 'cured' and whether my life might lose it's purpose if I overcame the single strongest motivator that has enabled me to construct the Passionella UK empire."
I was transfixed.
"Julia," she continued, in a quieter voice, "I couldn't have even started to make sense of it all if it wasn't for you. You've loosened my chains but I haven't shaken off all of them. It took over a week, and enormous willpower, to even bring myself to touch my pussy with my hands again. I lay in bed, in the bath, on the floor and even in the park trying to overcome years of aversion therapy. Finally, whilst thinking about you and possibly being able to meet you again in private and reliving our changing room experience, I did it. I put my fingers on my pussy. Oh, Julia, it felt so good after 16 years. I teased it open and I rubbed my button. Earlier last week, I actually came for the first time for years. That's when I asked you to call me. Last Thursday evening was the second time - I wanted to show you I could do it. And that was the first time I'd pushed a finger inside me since school."
I sat and listened attentively, the sense of responsibility weighed heavily on me.
"But now I need some special help" she declared, standing up. "Julia, the final hurdle is to allow someone else to arouse me and to make me come; it won't be easy. Will you try?"
Shit. I thought hard. How could I refuse? I realised that I may not even be allowed to touch her, as she had not even mentioned relaxing the LDT rule. I thought about my brainstorming session with Kirsten and Emma and the dildoes plan. I ran through my 'training' with Kirsten in her apartment, then answered her as unequivocally as I could.
"Yes, of course I will," I replied confidently, then taking a deep breath and adding: "but you'll have to do it my way.”
Linda looked apprehensive and stayed silent for a moment. "Depends what way that is," she responded. "What do you propose?"
"You don't get a choice," I replied. "Take me as I come."
Subconscious Freudian choice of words?
I gambled that Linda would accede to me adopting a dominant position, forcing her into a submissive role in order to distance her from her 'day job'.
She looked at me for a moment and I saw the expression on her face change from pensive to excited. Then she frowned. "What should I do, Julia. What are my instructions?"
Linda had subjugated herself to me and a rush of sexual energy hit my pussy. I became aroused by the idea of being in charge and it took me by surprise, awakening a latent desire in me. I provocatively pulled the zipper of my dress down nearly to my navel, exposing my rounded breasts rising out of their padded half-cup bra. I pulled back my shoulders to exaggerate the effect as I warmed to me new role.
"You must tell me what you would like me do to you." I demanded. “And you must be frank and explicit in your requests or I shall not even consider them. But only I will choose whether to carry out your requests and you must not question my decisions.”
"Julia, will you touch my body?" she asked, adding: “Please?” in a weak and wavering voice.
There goes the rule!
"Tell me where," I countered.
"Touch my breasts and my waist and my thighs, Julia."
"Please … " I prompted.
“Please, Julia,” she added.
It was working.
"Oh, Julia, please touch me and turn me on. And touch my pussy, please Julia. Rub my pussy and make me come. Please." Linda pleaded, obviously enjoying the game.
"No!" I replied. "Remember the rules!"
Linda fell on her knees. Shit, I was enjoying this too.
"But Julia, I need you to cure me with your touch. Will you?"
"No, not yet. We have to break you in slowly. Get undressed." I insisted, sternly.
Linda nodded submissively and I walked across to the hanging cupboards containing stocks of Passionella products.
Linda slipped quickly out of her day clothes and was now wearing just a dark purple Lycra thong. She started to pull it down but I chastised her. "No, keep that on. Here, put this on too." I threw her a corset just like the one that I 'bought' with Rachel in my first week with Passionella. I'll show her 'Pleasure In Control'!
"You'll have to lace me up, … please,” Linda requested, respectfully.
I wrapped the strapless, stiffened silver corset around Linda's waist and under her boobs. I took my time lacing all the hooks and I wondered who was enjoying this more as I pulled tighter. Linda breathed in and helped me by wriggling at the appropriate moments. I also tied her hair up in a ponytail, similar to how she looked last week. Stunning.
"Turn round" I commanded. Linda looked terrific and I allowed her to look in the mirror. She pulled her thong higher on her hips so the straps met the bottom edge of the metalised corset. Her small but attractive breasts swelled upwards from its supporting structure and bobbed slightly as she moved.
"Come here" I indicated, pointing to the twin poles at the end of the room.
"Do you remember the show that Abigail and Vikki put on for me after the Bodystockings launch?" I asked, already knowing the answer. "Did you watch us on TV?"
Linda nodded again, and guessed what I wanted her to do. She obligingly stood between the poles.
I took each hand and placed it as high as I could on its pole, which Linda gripped firmly. Then I took some cuffs from the drawer of accessories and anchored her wrists and ankles to the tops and bottoms of the poles. "Wider" I had to insist, and Linda spread her legs so and the cuffs would reach.
"Stay there and hold tight,” I demanded. She had no choice and did not object.
"Are you going to touch me now?" Linda enquired. I just shook my head. Cruelty had never come naturally to me but having a willing accomplice brought about a transformation in my personality that simultaneously both shocked and excited me.
I opened the next drawer down and Linda knew exactly what it contained. "Oh, yes" she breathed, softly. I'm not sure if I was supposed to hear.
I took out a long, sleek vibrator and held it up for her to see. "Oh, no" - she spoke louder this time - "please no."
I wiped its length with a sterile cleansing wipe provided just for this purpose, and also loaded a fresh set of batteries, reading aloud from the packet. 'Ultra-high power - long life' I quoted, looking at Linda with a wry smile as she pulled against her restraints.
"I don't think you're ready for me," I suggested, explaining: "I think I need to prepare the way before I can touch you with my bare hands, don't you?" Linda didn't answer.
I stood behind her and tilted her head forward so her ponytail fell over one shoulder. I switched on the vibe and it quietly hummed into life. "Mmmm, nice and quiet. Still, who cares, there's no-one here to hear us, or see us, is there," I remarked rhetorically, using the vibe as a pointer and motioning towards the small, discrete CCTV camera mounted on the ceiling a couple of metres in front of Linda's spread-eagled body. Then I ran the tool down the back of her neck and she tightened then relaxed the muscles in her arms and shoulders.
I ran the it down her vertebrae between her shoulder blades until I met the top of her corset. Walking around to face her, I then ran it along the edge, under her armpit and round to the front of her body.
Her breasts were forced up and outwards by the tight-laced corset and, since her arms were held high on the poles, they had nearly escaped from the silver metalised fabric that struggled to conceal them. That, after all, is not the purpose of a corset. It is to accentuate, lift and support a woman's breasts, to draw attention to them and to make them attractive to her partner. The tops of her areolae were just visible and I wondered if her nipples were erect.
I flicked Linda's ponytail back over her shoulder so it hung down her back. Reaching under her arm with my free hand, I pulled it down, forcing her head back and causing her to arch her spine. Her breasts crept further out of her corset and her (yes, erect) nipples escaped, resting on the top edge and growing larger with the effects of friction. My nostrils filled with her natural scent as her perspiration mingled with the expensive perfume she had liberally applied to her beautiful neck.
I ran the vibe across one nipple then the other in equal measure, trapping them against the top of their supporting corset. They grew fat and hard under my stimulation and protruded even further whilst their owner moaned and twisted, trying in vain to escape my teasing. "We don't want these beauties to run and hide, do we?" I quipped. Linda shook her head, relieved that I had momentarily taken away the source of their torment. I turned it off and shoved it down Linda's front and it nestled silently in her cleavage whilst I walked around behind her again, where she could not see me. I tightened the lacing of her corset further, pulling in her waist by another few centimetres and restricting her already-shallow breathing. Her full, flushed breasts swelled most satisfyingly over the edge of the stiffened material.
I retrieved the slender weapon from between her exposed breasts and caressed it with one hand in front of Linda's gaze, as through I was pleasuring a detached but responsive penis. I knelt in front of her and she looked down at me.
I switched the vibe onto a fast setting and started to run it lightly over her belly, then around the edges of her small thong, the last flimsy protection for her most erogenous of zones. I ran it down the insides of her thighs and back up between her legs to stimulate her bum crack where the tiny triangle of already-damp fabric nestled tightly.
Linda moaned and bucked, but I had only just started. I ran the vibrating wand over the edge of her thong and stimulated her pussy mound through the taught purple fabric. Her pubic hairs escaped around its edges and the moist material folded into her cunt-crack so I could see exactly where to focus my attentions. I slowed down the speed of vibrations and Linda writhed more violently as I teased and caressed the purple Lycra stretched over her labia, and finally her tender clit. I delighted in the effect I was having on her composure as I circled around, over and directly on her sexy bud. Linda strained against her bonds and moaned loudly as I teased her some more until I sensed that her climax was building to breaking point.
Then I stopped, and Linda cried out in frustration.
“Inside me, Julia, please, oh please.” Linda whispered to me. “Push it deep inside me.”
“In your mouth?” I asked, deliberately misunderstanding, just to torment her and to force her to be more explicit. To my delight, she was; I loved hearing her talk really dirty.
"No, in my cunt, Julia. Fuck my cunt with it. Please."
"But I can't. How can I? You're still wearing your thong," I protested weakly.
Linda cried out in frustration, "Fuck you, Julia. Take it off. Just get it off me, quickly."
"Sure?" I asked.
"Yes," came the firm reply. "Please!"
I turned off the vibe. Linda's ankles were still cuffed to the twin poles of passion so I couldn't pull the thong down her legs, so I grasped the sides and pulled sharply. Linda winced as I ripped the stitching and the delicate token-gesture of a garment came away in my hands. Her pussy was now totally unprotected and exposed to my eyes. It pouted invitingly from between her short, dark pubic hair as I tossed aside the scraps of damp purple material.
Desperately trying to recall the technique that Kirsten had demonstrated on me, I set to work on Linda's glistening pubic hair, her outer and inner lips, her perineum, her bum crack and her clit. She writhed and panted as I stroked and prodded the silent vibrator over her most sensitive concentration of nerve endings.
Then I remembered Kirsten's 1 2 3 4 5 6 - 7 technique, which I re-enacted faithfully. It had the desired effect and I had Linda dangling on a string. The vibe slid in so smoothly I'd swear it never touched the sides. I turned it on and constantly adjusted the speed to deliver a variety of sensations. I kept her guessing to prevent her mind from wandering, lest she should realise that she would previously have found even the thought of what we were doing to be utterly detestable.
Not this time! Linda clutched desperately at the poles and murmured all kinds of requests and obscenities in equal measure.
Then I was sure she was ready.
"Do you want me to touch you now, Linda?" I asked.
She managed a dry, husky "Yes," followed by: "Please touch my pussy, Julia."
Compassionately I picked up my unfinished drink, pulled back her head again, and poured some liquid into her open mouth. Linda gulped as fast as she could but inevitably some spilled over her face and ran down her neck, over her breasts and both onto and into her corset, causing her to squirm.
"You know what this means, don't you," I continued.
Linda spoke more clearly and decisively. "Yes, bitch, of course I do. I want you to touch me. Not with that cold, hard object, with your soft, warm fingers."
I didn't think I could go straight for the kill, straight to Linda's pussy, knowing that this would be the first time I had so much as even touched any woman intimately with my bare hands. So first I gently brushed my hands over the soft curve of her breasts, enjoying the feel of her smooth, warm flesh. Linda seemed to like the sensation as much as I did so I grew bolder as I kneaded and stoked her boobs then dragged the palms of my bare hands across the hard peaks of her nipples. Linda thrust out her chest in encouragement and I responded by first caressing her pink buds, then pulling, squeezing and twisting them. Their owner moaned and sighed words of approval and I savoured the new and wonderful feelings of another woman's aroused, erect nipples between my eager fingers. Linda too was breaking new ground as she allowed me to stimulate her in this way and she closed her eyes as she pulled back her shoulders as if to say, “They're all yours – do what you want.”
This was getting serious now, so I motioned to release Linda's wrists, but not her ankles. She did not object so I unbuckled the cuffs and she let go her grip on the poles. I helped her to lie down on the floor and put cushions under her head and hips. I was sweating profusely inside my long leather dress so I unzipped it all the way down the front and eased myself out of its constraining tightness. Linda opened her eyes long enough to see me standing over her in just my uplift half-cup bra and skimpy panties. The time for games was over and I took a deep breath.
Linda shuddered as I knelt between her knees, her legs held wide apart by the remaining ankle cuffs still attached to the bottom if the twin poles. She tensed up for a moment, then let out a long, almost animal moan as I ran my bare hands down her thighs then back up the smooth insides of her legs. She felt fabulous; why had I waited so long to experience the beautiful feel of naked female flesh?
I caressed her tummy then slowly moved downwards and placed my hand on her pussy. It felt warm, wet and inviting. Using all the knowledge I'd learned from Kirsten, combined with years of self-pleasuring, I frigged her the way only another woman knows how, running my fingertips along the fascinatingly intricate folds of her soft inner labia and comparing them to the similar but subtly different feel of my own. Why had I waited so long to stroke another woman's pussy?
I pushed one then two then three fingers into the moist depths of her welcoming vagina and I rubbed her protruding clit, tenderly first then firmly, with the middle finger of my other hand. I drew small circles over her pleasure-button, dragged my fingernail across it, pressed it, squeezed it and flicked it. Why had I waited so long to pleasure another woman's clitoris?
Linda clawed at the floor and lifted her head off the cushions. She grasped at her exposed breasts and squeezed her nipples. She lay back, her legs forcible held apart and her cunt lips and vagina spread wide open, hot, wet, pink and intriguing.
I was frantic with arousal and ready to come myself, excited beyond all self-control by the sight of her hot body cruelly restrained and crushed tight in that gorgeous, narrow corset. Plus her heady aroma, her desperate moans and cries and the cocktail of perspiration and sex-juice that coated my hand and her groin as I furiously masturbated her.
Linda shouted and screamed as she suddenly climaxed. She bucked her hips as the muscles inside her thighs contracted in rhythmic spasms. I pulled my hand away and immediately slid it inside my soaking-wet panties, rubbing my clit with fingers freshly lubricated with moisture accumulated from the vagina of a gorgeous, sexy, lesbian woman who also happened to be my employer. I came moments later and collapsed forward onto her, my shoulders falling between her parted, taught thighs and my head resting on her belly where I felt the dying pulses of her long-awaited orgasm slowly subside.
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Linda and I sat talking quietly for some time, about our feelings, about the significance of what we had just done, about the future of Passionella UK and about the astounding stamina and ingenuity that Yasmin & Zöe had demonstrated in Silver. "I'll arrange for Charlotte to give you some training in the features and possibilities that the recliner chair offers," Linda promised me, continuing: "We call it the 'Chair of the Four Pleasures', Charlotte will demonstrate them to you."
Linda went on to explain how she had worked with a friend who designs dentist equipment to devise the ultimate chair that a woman can use alone or with friends. She was sounding just like one of those awful ab-exerciser ads on morning satellite TV! But the opportunity to get together with Charlotte again was too good to miss.
Linda kissed me and thanked me as I left the building and I stepped out into the cool night air, filled with a warm sense of achievement and a nursing a hot pussy that needed some more attention before I'd be able to sleep that night.
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