by Stark, Rhona
‘Up on the bed, please, my little stranger.’
I did as she asked, pulling myself up onto the mattress. It was so soft under me! Even though the bed looked simple, it was totally luxurious. I felt myself almost sinking in.
‘If you could position yourself in the middle of the bed please, face up, ass down.’
I turned over and lay down on the bed, alive with sensation and overcome with anticipation. I stretched my legs out and closed my eyes, before sighing deeply. As the air left my lungs, I tried to force out all of my inhibitions and worries. ‘You’re doing this, Cassie,’ I thought. ‘This is life and it’s not just happening to you, you’re doing it, you’re making it happen.’
With my eyes still closed, I felt Ms. X’s warm, soft hand take hold of my left ankle. She moved it to the side and then I felt a thin strip of leather being looped around my flesh. It was loose at first, but then strapped and tightened.
‘I hope that’s comfortable for you.’ I kept my eyes closed and began to give in to the sensation of being restrained as she went to work on my right ankle. She moved slowly, talking to me as she did it.
‘You know that bondage has a long history,’ she said, her voice soothing and calm. ‘In fact, some of the very oldest surviving textual records in existence are descriptions of rituals, not unlike those we’re partaking in, dedicated to the Goddess Innanna. She was the Sumerian Goddess of love and fertility, but also, interestingly, warfare.’ This woman was like a walking encyclopedia! She tightened the leather strap around my wrist. ‘The ceremonies and rituals which were dedicated to her were designed to bring about altered states of consciousness. Her followers wanted to explore punishment, moaning, ecstasy, lamentation and song.’ I sensed her working her way up my body. I wondered whether she was aroused, like me, whether she felt as thrilled and fascinated by my body as I did with the experience.
As she spoke, I felt as though I was being initiated into a secret club, like the masons. Knowledge and experience was being passed onto me by this man, my master, my dominator, my teacher.
‘Leather, of course, didn’t become a central part of the BDSM culture until much later, and came out of the gay subculture of the 1970s. These days of course, sexual preference plays no particular role in whether or not one can enjoy the feel and bite of well-cured leather against the skin.’
She took my right hand in hers, and gently stroked my fingers, starting at their tips. She traced soft, thin lines up my palm, my wrist, the fleshy parts of my thumb. She hadn’t asked me to keep my eyes closed, but I did it anyway, concentrating on the physical sensations she was sharing with me. Her fingertips felt electric against my skin and I squirmed again as she pulled away.
Then, with a rough strength, she pulled my wrist to the side and slipped my hand into the restraint on the bed.
‘You’re being very good,’ she said, ‘taking your restraint as you should. You’re not going to be able to move much at all soon.’ Her voice moved around the room as she made her way around the bed.
‘I didn’t realize that I was a top until quite recently,’ she said, ‘and I guess you didn’t know that you were a bottom until right now.’
What was a top? What was a bottom?
‘You know why this is all happening, why I’m having to restrain you,’ she said, a sudden cruel streak in her voice. ‘It’s because you never apologized after rudely bumping into me on that street. I thought to myself: this one, she’s rude, she’s disrespectful, she doesn’t know her place, she needs to be taught a lesson, to be punished, to be humiliated.’
My heart started to pound faster, harder. She was right, I hadn’t said sorry, I hadn’t even tried. I was rude. I was really, really naughty .
I’d never even considered getting involved in a bondage relationship before, but when I thought back to the men I’d spent time with in the past, I started to realize that none of them had ever taken charge of the situation, had ever shown me that they were in control. Maybe this was what I wanted, to be shown about sexuality and romantic relationships by someone who knew exactly what she wanted. And the fact that it was a woman made me feel more trusting, more like I wanted her to guide me through this. Men were sleazy pervs with gross bulging dicks. Woman - they were soft, they were cunning - they knew just how far to push you to get you to the edge… I bet this woman could push me way over that edge if she wanted to…
‘You’re a little worm, aren’t you?’ she said. She took my left hand, and this time there was no stroking - just a quick, light wrench to the side before she strapped me in. I was at her mercy now, totally in her power.
‘Worms don’t deserve to drink Champagne, do they?’ she said.
I shook my head to the side, then opened my eyes. Ms. X was standing at the end of the bed, looking down at me. I was lying on my back with my arms at my side. My legs were bent comfortably, with my knees up in the air.
‘That’s right,’ she said. She picked up the Champagne bottle and came over to the bed. ‘It’s a waste of good Champagne to let a dirty worm drink it. The dirty worm needs a wash.’
She lifted the bottle up above me and held it close to my right knee. Then, she slowly lifted the bottom and tipped the ludicrously expensive liquid onto my quivering thigh. It trickled out gently, and I could hear the fizz before I felt it.
It was cold! Not only cold, but almost prickly - I could feel the bubbles bursting and snapping against me, and immediately my skin puckered into goosebumps, as the Champagne trickled its way down my leg. In no time at all, it had worked its way down between my legs, onto my inner thigh and then into my waiting pussy. It was an amazing sensation. Fizzing, like millions of tiny fireworks, exploding on my most sensitive parts.
‘Think about all of the years this Champagne has been fermenting. The sun, the rain, the wind - all so that it could be poured into your pussy.’ As she spoke, she moved the lip of the bottle closer to my crotch and then tipped more of the sweet liquid onto me. It felt so good, and the mild sting from the alcohol was like a delicious savory note. It was like I could taste it with my cleft.
‘Let’s make sure that the full aroma is getting in there,’ she said. She bent down, and poured a little more and as she did, she touched my thigh with her hand, before pushing a finger down onto the lips of my entrance. I jerked upwards as she touched me. I hadn’t expected it, and as I moved, she pulled back.
It was only later that I realized that she was giving me the chance to say the safe word. She was, in her own way, trying to look after me. When I remained silent, she spoke again.
‘You mustn’t move around when I touch you. You belong to me when you’re in this room, Rayne, and you don’t do anything unless I tell you to. So. Stay. Still.’
This time I was ready for her touch. Her fingers were wet with Dom Perignon, and she traced them over the entrance to my body. My legs were spread, and she could easily toy with and tease the delicate folds of my cleft. As she did it, I felt a sensation like no other, the kind of wordless pleasure that I’d always wanted but had never managed to give myself.
‘Rayne,’ she said, ‘I want the first sound I ever hear you make to be a moan. Can you moan for me, worm? Can you show me that you’re enjoying your punishment?’
It sounds like a simple request, that I should moan while experiencing pleasure, but you’ve got to remember, this was the first time I’d ever been intimate with a woman. Or with anyone in this way. I always thought it was weird that people made so much noise when they were having sex, like it was an act or something. But I decided that I was going to try. I was going to do what my Mistress told me.
I waited a few moments, enjoying the slippery sting of her fingers on me, then as she stroked upward, I let out a low, quiet little sound, more of a sigh than a moan really.
‘Is that the best you can do?’ she said, still moving her fingers slowly over my flesh.
I shook my head, and she watched me.
‘Maybe you need a little more help,’ she said, and the
n I gasped as I felt her finger asking a question of my body - can I come in, she asked. Her finger pushed the lips of my entrance gently, and it moved so slowly between those wet labia, not only drenched with Champagne, but also thick and slippery with the liquid my body made as it begged her to enter. The image of the flower again entered my thoughts, and its delicate petals opened as this time I did moan, a low, groan of desire that built from a soft whisper to a full-bodied heave of lust.
‘Much better,’ she said. ‘What a beautiful voice you have, worm.’ She pushed her finger in and bent it, beckoning backwards inside me and then, she started to fuck me with that hand. Gently at first, so agonizingly slow. I started to moan freely now, a series of unstoppable sounds escaping from my lips as the pace of her probing increased.
‘You see how much the restraint intensifies the sensation,’ she said. ‘Just think, even if you wanted to wriggle and squirm away, you couldn’t. You’re at my mercy, and you have to take the punishment I’m giving you. You have to give my fingers what they want.’
I wondered if she was wet too. I wondered if she wanted my fingers in her pussy, but of course there was no way I could find out while being restrained like this. I clamped my eyes closed and took the pleasure she was giving me and I was thankful for it.
I felt her other hand start to stroke around my entrance as she continued to finger-fuck me. It felt so different to the times I’d masturbated myself. It felt like she was ruthless, like she was determined to show me something, to make me experience pleasure and there was something twisted and cruel about how good she was at servicing my body.
‘Moan again for me, worm,’ she said, and I felt her second hand start to make little circles above the entrance to my pussy, where my clitoris was. She’d coated her fingers in Champagne, and they stung a bit as she circled the nub of my pleasure. I began to tremble as she moved, gently but with unstoppable force. I felt the tiny fireworks exploding now, and moaned again, shuddering, as new feelings unfolded in my body.
‘Good girl,’ she said. She moved her hands away from my genitals, and moved one up each leg, until they rested on my thighs, then she gently pushed my legs apart.
What was she doing? In a moment I knew. I felt her breath, hot and heavy against my skin. She kissed my thighs gently, making little patterns of desire on my body, working her way around my pubic mound.
‘Smells of heaven down here,’ she said, and then, I felt her tongue against the lips of my pussy. She licked up and down, and I was amazed by how hot it felt, how smooth and slippery. I was surprised so much that I found myself jerking gently against my restraints. I didn’t want her to stop though, so I tried to keep as still as possible.
Then, her tongue pushed my pussy lips apart, and started to lap gently against my labia. Each stroke was incredible. I felt swept away with lust. Her hands gripped my thighs harder, and it reminded me of just how much I was at her mercy right now. She licked harder and faster, and then pushed her fingers into my cleft. It’s yours, I thought. Do what you want to me. First one finger, then two, and I gasped at the feeling of fullness I experienced, before being shocked by her tongue, returning to its duties, but now licking my clit, painting my nub with desire.
I started to feel hot and cold at the same time, as though I was losing control of my body. With each stroke, lick, nibble or thrust, I found myself moving in time, pushing my crotch up, desperate for more, and then she took my clitoris in her mouth and licked and kissed me, while forcing her two fingers far and hard into me, massaging pleasure into my insides. All of the muscles of my body began to tighten, starting around my pussy, trembling hard, and I felt this wave, this unstoppable radiating pleasure whip through my body over and over again. So this was what a true orgasm felt like! I moaned and moaned and shook and screamed and then, when the pleasure was too much for me to take I opened my mouth and I said, for the first time, ‘FUCK!’
She stopped.
My eyes snapped open. I looked at her. I was hoping to find her smiling or laughing, to find her amused by my accidental outburst. But to my horror, she looked absolutely furious.
‘Dear oh dear,’ she said. ‘Just when you were doing so well. I’m afraid that this means that next time we meet, you’re going to be receiving another punishment, Rayne. And remember, whatever you do during our next meeting: do not utter a single word , unless I say so.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Had this been the most transformative night of my life? I had lost my virginity now, I think - that counted, right? I certainly felt totally different. It was only a few hours later, and I was lying in the bed in room 901, not strapped in any more, but totally comfortable and feeling, like, blissed out or something. It felt like I’d become Rayne, that by surrendering myself to someone, I’d grown as a person.
Soon after she’d told me off for speaking, she’d untied me, and then, she’d started to really look after me. She made me a cup of coffee and gave me a bathrobe, which had been hanging up in the WC.
‘I don’t want to rush into anything with you,’ she said. I presumed she meant about revealing herself to me, or hearing me talk. ‘I wish I could stay with you tonight, but I have to be in Beijing tomorrow. I have a flight to catch and there’s no way around it.’ Beijing? Was this woman for real?
‘You’re welcome to sleep here tonight, if you like, and I’d like you to keep the key to this room, if you feel as though that might be agreeable. I want this place to be a home away from home for you, like it is for me. You put a huge amount of trust in me tonight, and I want to show you that I trust you too. If you need to eat, or want a drink, just charge it to the room.’
Anything I wanted? Even a simple meal at this place must cost a fortune. It felt like I was being given the keys to the city, not just to a room at the Plaza! Maybe this is what the contract had meant by ‘financial independence’. I guess this woman must be stupidly rich. Perhaps even a billionaire.
I was lying on the bed, feeling stupidly pampered and glowing with delight.
‘You know, Rayne, this was one of the most magical nights of my life. I wish I could spend more time with you. Feel free to have a bath, if you like. There’s a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom. It’s a bit noisy, but, I think you’ll find the bubbles are worth it.’
It was strange to think that she was just leaving me here. We’d had an incredibly intimate encounter, but it had been over so quickly, and the way it ended kind of left me feeling as though I’d been told off. I felt like it was part of an act, or some kind of roleplay that we were taking part in together, but it still left a strange taste in my mouth.
She walked up to the bed, and then sat down next to me.
‘You were wonderful. I have to thank you so deeply for indulging me, and playing along with the weird desires I have and the strange ideas I had tonight. Please remember, when we’re playing out a scene, like we were tonight, I’m playing a character. I’m exploring the darker sides of my personality. But the setting is safe, and you’re in control. If you were to say the safe word, it would all stop straight away, I promise.’
Lotus. That’s the word she had given me. I almost wanted to say it now, to see how it felt to wield that power over her. But I didn’t. That word was my secret weapon, and you can’t give away your secret weapon that easy.
‘Next time we meet, Rayne, I’m going to ask you to speak. We’re going to take our relationship to the next level.’
I felt a surge of excitement. I’d almost gotten used to not being able to say anything, but I suddenly realized that I did want to speak. I did want to let her know about me.
Then a thought struck me. Maybe she’d only be interested in the silent, powerful Rayne - not pathetic, mumbling, anxious Cassie. Maybe I wasn’t good enough to be myself and still make her want me. The thought was cut off half-way through though, as Ms. X leaned in towards me. She was close, closer to my face than she’d ever been before. Her thickly-lashed eyes blinked once, then her mouth opened. She looked oddly vulnerable, li
ke a little deer, then she said, ‘Can I kiss you?’
It was so strange to be asked that by someone who’d just given me the first true orgasm of my life. There was something unbelievably sweet and kind about it. I nodded, and she brought her soft lips to mine. The kiss was kind and warm and loving, but also forceful. She tasted of power and the unknown.
She moved her lips up to my ear and whispered, ‘The way you said fuck tonight… it was pretty much the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.’ Then she drew away from me, leaving my heart a palpitating mess in my chest. She went into the WC, and when she came out, she was no longer dressed in her tight, figure-hugging catsuit, but in another pinstripe business suit, as professional-looking as the first time I saw her.
Just before she left the room, Ali, or Ms. X, or whatever, turned to me and asked: ‘Would you mind if I sent you a present to your work tomorrow? Nothing big, I just want to make sure it won’t be embarrassing or annoying to get something delivered. If it’s OK, text me the address and I’ll have someone send it over.’
I thought about this. Teresa was sure to tease me. What would it be, like, a teddy bear? Some flowers? I nodded.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘Send me an SMS with your work address on it. It’ll arrive in a brown envelope, with a pink flower taped to it. That way you’ll know it’s from me, and I don’t have to find out your name.’
Later, while I was lying in the hotel bed, trying to unpick who this woman really was, it struck me that maybe, right now, it didn’t matter. Maybe the discovery, the journey towards knowing who she was and how we would be together was the reward in itself. She’d been at various times aggressive, cold, sexy, masterful and friendly. Maybe she was just a human, like me, after all.
I decided that I should have a bath, so I walked up to the massive marble-surrounded tub and turned the hot tap all the way, adding a little cold to the mix so that I wouldn’t get light-headed. I slipped out of the bathrobe and looked at my body in the full-length mirror. It wasn’t the body of a frightened young girl, who’d had a string of awful first dates anymore. It was the body of a woman, in control of her life, and excited by what was about to come.