by Stark, Rhona
The short hallway led straight into the bedroom area, past the doors to a bathroom, and there, by the window, looking out across the unbelievable view of Central Park, was Ms. X. Or should I call her Ali? She was wearing a long, tight, dark blue catsuit. Sexy, but super elegant, and kind of intimidating at the same time. I could see all of her curves and angles from behind. Her tight ass and her womanly hips. She looked incredible. She oozed confidence. She was staring out into the distance. I took another step forward, onto the luxurious carpet, and she turned to look at me.
My God, she was gorgeous. As beautiful as the room and even rarer. Her blond hair was still scraped back, away from his face, but tendrils of hair fell softly around her face. She had smoky black around her eyes, and a nude lip gloss that made her look more startling than any shade of crimson or pink she might have chosen. Seeing her lips like that, so plump and pale, coral-colored, made me feel slightly embarrassed that I’d painted my own lips such a garish shade of bright red.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘isn’t this an interesting thing to be doing on a Tuesday night.’
Hold it together, I thought, feeling the telltale warmth of a blush flushing my cheeks. Rayne wouldn’t blush. Stay cool.
‘Thank you so much for being so prompt. Why don’t you come over here and I’ll take your coat off for you?’
I took a step forward, trembling slightly. I was so nervous! Not being able to speak was weirdly helping though. I knew that I wasn’t going to say anything stupid. No chance to fuck up. Just don’t trip over the carpet, Cass.
It was a thrill to feel her hands on my shoulders again. Was it me, or did she seem to linger just a little bit longer than she needed to? She took my coat off and hung it on a dark wooden coat-stand in the corner of the room. The room smelled of vanilla and jasmine, and somewhere nearby, I thought I could hear jazz music, wafting up from some party below. I felt like I was in a dream of the 1920s, or briefly living a memory from someone else’s life.
Then it all came crashing down.
‘I wasn’t expecting you to be wearing something so obviously, I don’t know, seductive, I suppose,’ she said.
I swallowed, and felt almost on the verge of tears. Suddenly, I realized what an idiot I had been. Trussing myself up like this, so sure of myself, so convinced that someone like her would be attracted to someone like me? What made me so sure she even wanted me in a sexual way? This might not even be a date. She probably wanted me to be her secretary or something. Someone she could boss around. God, I was such a dolt.
She must have picked up on my self-reproach, because her expression softened for a moment.
‘I mean, you look lovely, beautiful in fact. It just doesn’t seem like you. It’s not the you I saw yesterday.’
She walked to a small table she had in front of the floor to ceiling windows. Next to the table were two chairs, ornate little things, with curled tips to their golden legs. The tabletop was a slab of creamy marble. On the table was a bottle and two flute glasses.
‘I want you to turn up in whatever you’d normally wear around the house. I want to get to know you as you really are. Is that clear?’
I was about to say something, but instead, I just nodded. What did she mean, get to know you ? Was I going to be allowed to speak?
‘But believe me,’ she said, ‘for today, for this occasion, you are just perfect.’
That was it, I couldn’t help myself, I started to blush. So much for confident, aloof Rayne. It seemed like Ms. X wanted to spend some time with little old Cassie!
‘Do you like champagne?’ she asked.
I nodded. I wasn’t sure if I was meant to move forward, sit down, say anything. She was in control, I guess. It felt good, as though I didn’t have to worry about anything. It was her responsibility that we have a good time, after all.
‘This is Dom Perignon. A 1992 vintage. The amazing thing about Dom Perignon,’ she said, slowly undoing the wire net holding in the cork of the bottle, ‘is that if they have a bad year at the vineyard, if the conditions aren’t perfect, if there isn’t enough sun, enough rain, at exactly the right times of each year, they simply do not produce a batch of champagne that year.’
With a pop, the cork fizzed from the top of the bottle, striking the ceiling of the room. I was horrified! Had she meant to do that? Ali didn’t look at all worried though, in fact, her smile was broader than before.
‘Don’t worry about that,’ she said. ‘You can’t open a bottle as special as this without the fun of letting the cork go. All those little bubbles, waiting to burst. Just imagine, those little pockets of carbon dioxide have been waiting almost almost twenty-five years to push that cork out of the bottle. They must be older than you.’
They were.
‘All those grapes, grown so long ago, backed under the sun in France, watered, plucked, squashed, fermented, all so that these bubbles-’ she began to pour the first of two glasses, ‘- could be felt on our tongues. Pretty amazing, isn’t it?’
I nodded. she handed me the glass, and then, clinked the rim of hers with the edge of mine.
‘Bonne santé,’ she said, and sipped the wine.
I did the same. The taste was wonderful; light and crisp and cool, full of the flavor of soft fruits, peaches and pears, and, weirdly, summertime.
‘You like it?’
I felt the bubbles on my tongue, and thought about all of the years that had gone into making this drink. I never thought I’d be experiencing something so decadent and wonderful as this! What would Debbie think? I felt powerful all of a sudden. Maybe it was the sudden, warming rush of alcohol.
I nodded once more.
‘Let’s sit by the window a moment. I have a few things I want to discuss with you, before we go any further.’ She gestured toward the table by the window, and, totally lost in the moment, rather than follow her over to the seat, I put my hand up to her face. It felt like I was out of control, like Rayne was suddenly in charge. I moved in close, so close that I could smell her, the fresh rose scent of her moisturizer. She looked at me, as if both warning me to stay away and willing me to press on, all at once. Suddenly, I moved my lips to her cheek, and gently planted a kiss on her soft, porcelain skin.
Then, as quickly as I’d moved in, without a word, I moved back, and then sat at the table and waited for her to join me. Just for a moment, I’d taken control. But soon, very soon, I’d be giving it all away.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘Rayne,’ she said to me, across the antique marble table, ‘I’m a very particular woman, with very particular tastes. When I saw you yesterday, I felt so many things for you, it surprised me.’
She took a sip from her glass, and I did the same. She seemed so relaxed, but so intense at the same time. She had this amazing energy I’d never really experienced before.
‘You’ve got to know,’ she continued, ‘that I’ve never done anything like this before. Anything even remotely like this. I mean, the way I spoke to you in the street for a start. The idea that I’d just disallow someone to talk, someone who was about to apologize for bumping in to me! It’s absurd. If you’d told me a week ago that I would be in this situation, I don’t think I’d have believed it.’
I smiled at her, trying to get across the idea that I would never normally do something like this, either.
‘But there was something about that meeting, something incredible. Did you feel it? The energy between us?’
I nodded. Was this really happening? Was I falling for this woman?
‘Good. I’m so glad.’
She drained her glass.
‘I want you to know that I do, eventually, want to get to know you. When the time is right, I want to learn all about you, who you are, what you do, all of the things you love, all of the things you hate. But now, right now, and for the foreseeable future, I want us to be those two strangers in the rain, those two people who knew,’ she smacked her hands together, ‘when they bumped into each other, that there was chemistry there. Like two
bubbles of carbon dioxide in that champagne, waiting for the right time to smash into each other.’
Was this romantic, or demented? I couldn’t decide.
‘Does that sound good to you?’
But I was going to go with it. I nodded again, letting her words and her brown eyes guide me through this strange encounter.
‘So, if you don’t mind, I’ve prepared some paperwork, to make this official, and straightforward to us both.’
Paperwork?
She reached into her pocket - I’m surprised there was room for pockets in a catsuit that tight, to be honest, and brought out a folded piece of paper.
‘I’m a lawyer in my professional world, and I always feel that little bit more safe and secure if all of my personal relationships are correctly codified and defined. I hope you don’t mind. I myself find it to be strangely romantic.’
Yeah, romantic is exactly how I would describe it. Signing a contract with a woman who I was hoping to start a relationship with. Hang on, did this mean I did want to start a relationship with her?
‘It’s nothing too binding, in fact, the majority of the contract is to do with the fact that both of us have the ability, should we desire to act upon it, to break the relationship off at any time, without any reason, without negative repercussions from the other. So, if you wanted to invoke the clause in question, you’d never have to see me again, and I wouldn’t even ask you why. We’re committing to non-commitment, if you like,’ she said, smiling.
It felt as though all of the excitement that had burned in me about our meeting was totally draining away. Like someone had opened up the plughole and it was all washing away. Why bother writing down that we had the chance to not commit to each other? We barely knew each other. Did she just want sex from me?
‘The document also details what your rights and my responsibilities will be. Although for the time being, I’d rather you didn’t talk, you can of course stop proceedings at any time, by saying the word, ‘Lotus’. It’s a safe word, of sorts. If you say it, whatever’s going on will stop. I really want you to feel safe, and although I’m going to be the one leading our actions, ultimately, you have the power and the control to make things stop.’
What’s the good side of this effing contract? I thought. I must have scrunched up my face, or frowned or something, because she looked a little worried, and then said, ‘I know what you’re thinking. “What’s in it for me?” Well, this section of the contract covers it. Go ahead and read. I don’t mind waiting.’
She unfolded the paper and flipped over a few pages before handing me the document. The section she pointed out to me was entitled: Benefits to the undersigned .
1) By entering into this legally binding agreement, the first party is entitled to the following;
(a) The experience of sexual pleasure derived from but not limited to;
i. Dominance
ii. Digital Penetration Of The Vagina
iii. Cunnilingus
iv. Light Corporal Punishment
v. Toys
vi. Restraint
vii. Sexual Intercourse
(b) The collection of new experiences derived from but not limited to;
i. Travel
ii. Food And Drink
iii. The Arts
iv. The giving up of one’s self to another
(c) Financial independence.
(d) Personal freedom and freedom from personality.
As I read the weird list, I could feel my heart-rate spiking, and my skin became clammy. How can I explain it? The strangeness of the situation was making me feel fluttery, excited, turned on . This woman did want me. She wanted to touch my body with her hands (if that’s what Digital Penetration Of The Vagina meant!), with her tongue, maybe even with her own genitals. Not only did she want to do all this stuff, but she’d thought about it enough to make a list. She was certainly some woman.
‘Are you alright?’ she asked, looking at me, concerned.
I nodded, and then took the pen that she’d laid out on the table next to me. Then, I flipped through the document as quickly as I could, turning to the last page. I wanted to do this, I wanted the experiences that this woman was offering me, and I wanted them to start now . To heck with my old life. I was ready for a new chapter. And the fact that I could opt out at any time, no strings attached, meant that if it wasn’t for me, being with a woman, being dominated - any of it - I could just say the magic word and it’d all be over, like it had never happened…
‘You can take your time,’ she said, but I’d already found the dotted line and I was signing it. ‘Or just sign now,’ she said, smiling.
I put the pen down. I felt the first few beats of sexual excitement, like my body was waking up, all nervous and tense. I remembered touching myself in the shower, thinking about her, wondering if she’d thought the same about me. It was good to know that she had.
‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘And now we’re going to start our relationship by finishing this bottle of wine.’
I couldn’t wait; the anticipation was killing me, I was squirming in the chair, aware that I’d become wet down below, my sex now desperate for attention.
‘But I want you to drink it naked, Rayne. Take off your clothes. Take off that dress.’
No man had ever asked me to strip for them before. I started to hesitate and just as I was about to refuse, I thought to myself, What would Rayne do?
I stood, still trembling gently, and reached for the zipper on my back.
Ali sat at the table and kept her eyes fixed upon me. The sound of the jazz music from nearby got suddenly louder, and I listened to the city as it willed me on.
I took the top of the zipper and tugged gently down. The dress became less tight as it opened, and my body relaxed out of it slightly. I pulled the sheer material down, over my hips, and in moments I was in front of a woman in just my underwear.
‘You’re incredibly beautiful, Rayne,’ she said.
I’d worn the sexiest underwear I owned to come and meet her: a matching set of a black thong and strapless bra from Celeste. It was about as sexy as you could go with a strapless bra, with a touch of lace around the back and in the center, holding the cups together. I was also wearing a pair of black hold-up tights, finished in lace around the thigh. I was dressed as confidently as I could manage, but I’d never felt more vulnerable.
‘And the rest?’
What would Rayne, the seductress, the powerfully sexual woman do?
I gently unhooked the strap of my bra. I held the fabric in place with my other hand and then, slowly, I let the piece of underwear fall to the ground. I could feel my nipples tighten in the cool of the air conditioning. I turned around slowly, so that my butt was facing Ms. X, and then, imitating a pose I’d seen glamor models pull for years, I bent slightly, pushing my ass out and hooked my thumbs under the straps of my thong. Then, I wriggled my way out of them. When I turned around, I covered my sex with my hand.
‘There’s no need for modesty my dear,’ she said, ‘as I’m going to become very well acquainted with every single divine corner of your body very soon.’
I moved my hand slowly up, revealing a trimmed mound of hair to her.
‘Leave the stockings on, if you don’t mind,’ she said.
I looked at her sitting there, totally in control of me. If she’d asked me to rip my stockings off with my teeth, I’d have done it, or if she’d asked me to masturbate right there in front of her I’d have done that too.
‘Before we go any further, I’d like to remind you that if you don’t like anything I ask of you, you can utter the word ‘Lotus’ and we will stop. You can refuse anything that you don’t want, do you understand? I’m going to ask you to surrender to me totally, to trust me. You’ve shown tremendous trust so far. I hope you’ll see how grateful I am for your trust, and how much it means to me. Are you ready to continue? Are you ready to submit to me, the way you did on the street when you did what I said and didn’t reply?’
&n
bsp; I nodded. I wanted this delicious feeling to continue.
‘Excellent. Now, Missy, seeing as you belong to me for the time being, why don’t you drop down to your knees and crawl over to the bed. I want to watch your ass and your pussy as you do it. I want to see if you’re as wet and juicy as I think you are.
It was so strange to hear a woman talk like this. I thought only men spoke in that way! It was so animalistic. So primal. So… okay, okay… so sexy.
Ms. X stood up and motioned toward the bed.
‘You can remove the rest of your clothes next to the bed. I’ve made some alterations to it which should make your Champagne drinking experience that little bit more memorable.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
Of course, I’d never been asked to drop down on all fours before. I tried to lower myself with as much dignity and poise as I could manage. I arched my back a little, pushing my butt out. How stupid to be thinking of what I must look like right now!
The carpet was thick and soft, and felt good under my knees. I could feel Ms. X’s eyes on me as I started to crawl over to the bed, and for some reason I visualized what I might look like from behind; my buttocks shifting up and down as my legs moved, revealing my sex to her, that little stone at the heart of a split peach, juicy and rich. I imagined a leash around my neck, imagined her pulling back on it, gently letting me move forward.
‘Very good, Rayne,’ said Ali from behind me. ‘Very good indeed.’ I heard her follow me through the room. ‘Now if you could lift yourself up onto the bed, we’ll turn our attention to the restraints.’
I hadn’t taken much notice of the bed on my way into the room, but now all my attention was focused on it. It wasn’t so lavish as to be noticeable, really, and the sheets, while probably really good quality, were simple and white. But at the side of the bed were straps, little leather hoops with adjustable buckles and catches. There were two at the ‘foot end’ of the bed, and two further up, which came out of the mattress, around halfway up. And there was one more strap, too, up on the headboard, a longer strip of leather.