The Dominatrix

by Becky Bell

  Angela felt her sex throb sharply. The idea excited her. 'Sounds interesting,' she said, her voice betraying her mood.

  Paula folded the silk over Angela's eyes. In fact, it was shaped to fit over the nose and had thick, silky pads on the inside, which pressed down on the eyes and excluded all light. Paula knotted the blindfold at the back of Angela's neck, under her hair.

  Angela felt a new pulse of arousal. Being deprived of one sense seemed to crank up the sensitivity of all the others.

  'What now?' she said excitedly.

  She felt Paula move behind her. The brunette's hand touched her left breast. The touch surprised her and she started. The hand rubbed her already puckered nipple, then moved over to the right breast and squeezed it not at all gently. She felt the silky slickness of the mulberry body pressing into her back, Paula's belly grinding into her hips.

  'I really want you,' Paula whispered, her lips so close that Angela could feel them moving against her ear. Paula blew a little gust of hot air into the inner whorls, making Angela shiver. She hooked her thumbs into the sides of Angela's panties and drew them down her legs, until they could drop to the floor of their own accord. 'Step out of them,' she said.

  Angela raised her feet. She was wearing her best black court shoes.

  'This way.'

  Paula took her hand and pulled her forward. She felt the edge of something hard butt against her hip.

  'Turn round, then sit up.'

  Angela knew the only thing projecting out like this was the edge of the ironing board-type structure. She turned around and lifted herself up on to it, her pulse racing.

  'What are you going to do?'

  'I want to get at you, sweetheart. This way I can. Lie back now.'

  Angela felt her heart starting to beat faster. As soon as she was lying back with her legs dangling over the edge of the board, just as she'd seen the man doing last week, she felt Paula pulling the thick leather belt around her waist.

  'I'm going to tie your legs up,' she said.

  In her mind's eye Angela could see herself splayed out on the board, her legs raised and doubled back. Her sex would be completely open and exposed. 'Yes,' she said breathily.

  She felt Paula's hand gripping her left ankle and pulling it up, then the leather cuff being wrapped around it. She remembered exactly how the man had been bound. She heard the squeaking noise as the rope was wound through the pulley and felt her leg being lifted back above her body and out to the side.

  Paula wrapped the second cuff around her other ankle. Again, Angela's leg was lifted into the air. As it rose and was pulled out laterally, her thighs were spread open, and she thought she could feel the lips of her vulva winking open, too.

  'Comfortable?'

  Oddly enough, she was. The ankle cuffs were padded and supported the weight of her legs and the position was not strained. Her sex was at the apex of her body and all her attention seemed to be focused on it. She could imagine Paula's eyes examining it closely.

  'Yes,' she said. She could feel her labia and her clitoris throbbing, a deep thrilling pulse that coursed through her nerves.

  'Beautiful,' the brunette said quietly, almost to herself. She raised her hand and ran it along the inside of Angela's thigh. 'So soft, so creamy.'

  Angela jerked involuntarily as Paula's finger touched the top of her labia. She felt it burrowing inward. It did not have to travel far to find the button of her clit.

  'Oh, God,' she moaned as Paula's finger pressed on it. Whether it was the blindfold or the fact that she was suspended like this with her sex angled up so provocatively, all her senses seemed to have been sharpened; and as Paula circled the little bud of nerves waves of pleasure flooded over her, making her toss her head from side to side in a frenzy of emotion. Already she could feel an orgasm beginning to burgeon, her nerves set alight.

  'So needy,' Paula said.

  Suddenly she felt a new sensation. Paula dropped to her knees and used her lips to suck at the flesh of Angela's thighs just above her sex. They moved, nibbling and kissing, down towards her vulva.

  'Yes,' Angela moaned.

  The lips anchored themselves to her labia. Instantly Angela felt Paula's tongue thrust into her vagina. It did not penetrate far but started to circle the sticky wet circumference, producing new shocks of pleasure to add to the ones her clitoris was already prone to.

  'You're making me come.'

  'Mmm...' Paula said without moving her lips away.

  In the blackness behind the blindfold Angela could see Paula kneeling between her outstretched legs, her face pressed to her sex. The image, as much as the physical sensations, made her come. She cupped her hands over both her breasts and strained at the ropes that held her legs so high as her orgasm swept over her, the restraint only increasing the ecstasy, the hardness in every muscle in stark contrast to the melting softness in the centre of her sex.

  'Have you ever used a vibrator, sweetheart?' Paula said as she saw Angela's body relax again, hanging limply from her bondage.

  'No,' Angela said. She had seen them in the shops in Soho only last Saturday, every shape and size, some curved and sculpted to resemble a real penis, others smooth and torpedo-shaped. Some had been so big she couldn't imagine any woman ever being able to accommodate them; others had been no larger than a little finger. Despite her new-found sexual emancipation, it had not occurred to her for one moment to buy one.

  She heard Paula walking across the room. The cupboard door creaked slightly as it opened. Angela's mind was running riot. She imagined her selecting a large gnarled vibrator.

  Her footsteps came back across the room. Angela thought she heard a rustle of clothes, the wine-coloured body being stripped away. She heard the rasp of tights being pulled down her long legs.

  'I'm going to fuck you now, Angela,' Paula said in a level, rather serious tone of voice.

  Almost immediately Angela felt something round and cold nudging into her sex. Her vagina contracted sharply, renewing all the thrills of the orgasm she'd had before, her body instantly revitalised. She felt the object pressing forward, her labia stretching thinly around it. Slowly, inexorably, it pushed into the depths of her cunt, the soft, velvety flesh parting to admit it. But about halfway up there was another shock; a second object was pressing against the small puckered hole of her anus.

  'No,' she cried.

  But Paula took no notice. As the big broad phallus lanced into her sex, the smaller, thumb-sized dildo underneath it began to push against the muscles of her sphincter, which were clenched and unyielding.

  'Please, no,' she said hurriedly. She had never had anything in that hole.

  But her body betrayed her. The juices from her sex had run down between her buttocks, making the tip of the small dildo greasy so, as her sphincter gave way, the dildo slid into her rear passage effortlessly.

  'Oh, my God.' Suddenly Angela's feelings were transformed.

  Her body tensed at the presence of the second dildo, fear momentarily taking over from excitement. But as she felt the two dildoes now sinking deeper into both the passages of her body, she was almost overwhelmed with the sensations of sheer pleasure. She had never had any idea that her anus could be so sensitive but, as the dildo forged forward, she seemed to be able to feel every inch of it, and every inch was generating feelings quite as exquisite as those that were coming from her cunt. They were communicating with each other too, little trills and tremors of pleasure playing between the two, one reinforcing and enhancing the feelings in the other. It was wonderful, really wonderful.

  'Paula, Paula, it's so good. I've never, I've never...'

  'You've never what, sweetheart?'

  'Mmm...' Angela wanted to tell her she had never had anything in her arse and never realised how good it could be, but the waves of pleasure were too overwhelming. Her second orgasm was approaching even faster than the first, like an express train plunging into a long dark tunnel. There was a roaring noise too, as she felt her sex and her anus clutch refle
xively at the dildoes that invaded them, and her whole body shuddered.

  But it wasn't over yet. Exactly at the moment her orgasm broke, the dildoes started to vibrate, a humming noise filling the room, the soft inner tissues of Angela's body seized by a deep profound oscillation that immediately took hold of her orgasm and raised it by the power of ten. Angela kicked against the ropes, straining against the leather strap that held her down, wanting her body to float like her mind was floating. She was out of control, her orgasm refusing to let go of her. Almost involuntarily, she felt herself pressing down on the double dildoes, wanting to get them deeper, the seat of her orgasm there, in the depths of her, though she could not distinguish between her vagina and her anus any more, the pleasure from both too acute. She wriggled her hips, grinding herself on to the phalluses and crying out as a whole new shaft of sensations were created as a result.

  But even in the throes of this extreme passion she heard Paula cry out, and could feel her hips against her upturned buttocks. Her hands were wrapped around Angela's knees, pulling herself forward, and Angela could feel her body shudder, just as hers had done, seconds before.

  Eventually, the orgasm ebbed away. Angela reached behind her neck and unknotted the blindfold. She raised her head and looked down the length of her body. Paula was standing between her legs, black leather straps tied tightly around her hips. The straps supported a triangular pad of thick black leather, through which poked the base of a large pink-coloured dildo. As she gently pulled it out of Angela's body, the blonde saw a much smaller dildo projecting underneath it, like the shape of an extended thumb and forefinger.

  'There's a little barb on the inside,' Paula said, still a little out of breath. 'It just rubs against the clit.' She shivered again as she said it. 'Feels wonderful.'

  'I know.'

  The spring season of house sales was going well. Angela had personally sold six large flats, two terraced houses and a large detached house in the last two weeks alone, and had buyers interested in five more properties.

  She was sitting at her desk in the office at the end of the day, trying to call one of these to confirm if they were actually going to make an offer, when Gary Roe walked by on his way out for the evening. He stopped in front of her desk waiting for her to finish the call.

  'No reply,' she said, putting the phone down. 'I think I've got a couple interested in Claremont Road.'

  Gary's face lit up. 'Really? That's incredible. We haven't been able to move that for three months. Do they know about the wet rot problem?' He sat in the chair at the side of her desk.

  'They've had a survey. Apparently, their surveyor thinks it can be fixed at a reasonable price.'

  'So they're going to make a low offer.' His expression changed. 'The vendor just won't accept anything less than the asking price.'

  'I know; Josephine told me. And I told them. But they really love the place and I think they're going to offer the asking price.'

  'Great! If you sell that house I'll buy you dinner,' he said. 'Listen, I just wanted to say we're very impressed with your work. You've fitted in here really well and you seem to have a flair for the job. I think it's important to tell people when they're doing well.' He jumped to his feet. 'Keep up the good work.'

  'Thank you, Mr Roe.'

  'Gary.'

  'Thank you, Gary.'

  'See you tomorrow.'

  Gary marched through the plate-glass door opposite her desk and she watched him hurrying down the street.

  Angela sat back in her chair and allowed herself to luxuriate in the glow of approval Gary Roe had delivered. Her life had changed completely. With the bonuses she had earned on the sales, her weekly wage packet had increased dramatically, and she was no longer having to scrimp and make do. On top of that, what had happened with Gregory Wilmott had given her new confidence. The incident at the stables had always bothered her, though she had never been quite sure why. Now that had been resolved. She knew and understood everything that had gone on. Not only that, she had used it to her advantage. In a manner of speaking, she had turned the tables on Gregory. From being a source of distress to her, he had become her toy. She smiled. And a very attractive, amusing little toy he made.

  But it was not only her feelings for Gregory that were cause for satisfaction. What she had discovered about her strange and complex, and - some would say, of course - perverted sexuality, had helped her come to terms with herself. Sex had always been a chore which, if she were honest with herself, had given her little real pleasure. She had indulged in it because everyone else around her seemed to be having such a good time doing just that, and her failure to achieve anything but the mildest of sensations had disappointed and disorientated her. In fact, she only realised how much this had preyed on her mind and affected her, now that the problem had been so dramatically solved. The suddenness of her sexual awakening had astonished her quite as much as its ferocity and its manner. But the most extraordinary thing of all was that she had come to accept so quickly that her sexuality could be turned on its head and, far from being inadequate in that department, that she was capable, given the right stimulation, of great leaps of passion.

  That knowledge had transformed her whole life, giving her new poise and confidence. She had a feeling one of the reasons that she was doing so well at Slaughter and Roe was precisely because the strength and resolve she felt in her sexuality was spilling over into her business life. She had surprised herself in the way she had coped with the idea that she would get pleasure not only from dominating and humiliating men but from women, too. She had taken both in her stride. And that was all part of her feeling of self-satisfaction.

  She tidied up her desk and closed her computer terminal down. As she waited for the screen to dissolve, her phone rang.

  'Call for you,' the telephonist said brightly. 'Personal.' She put it through without waiting to be asked.

  'Hello,' Angela said.

  'Angela, sweetheart, it's Paula.'

  The sound of her voice made Angela's heart beat faster. 'How are you?'

  'Fine. Look, I wondered if you were doing anything tonight. You know that little arrangement we spoke of?' She was obviously being discreet, in case the switchboard girl was listening in.

  'Yes,' Angela replied.

  'I know it's a bit short notice, but could you make it about seven?'

  Angela glanced at her watch. It was six-thirty now. 'I'd like to go home and have a quick shower. I could be there by seven-fifteen.'

  'Perfect. See you then.'

  Angela put the phone down and smiled broadly. She was just in the mood for an evening with Paula and her client.

  'Come in. A glass of champagne?'

  'Naturally,' Angela said with a smile.

  They walked through the sitting room together. The late April weather had changed again and it was now hot and sunny. Paula had opened the big French window onto the small patio outside. Not only was the patio south-facing, the sun bathing it in light, but because of the arrangements of the windows on the buildings that backed on to the house, it was also completely private. On a white cast-iron table was a silver wine-cooler, containing a bottle of champagne swathed in ice, and two tall champagne flutes. There was a set of four cast-iron chairs around the table and a hardwood garden sofa fitted with thick-striped pink and white cushions. The profusion of potted plants that the previous owner had left were all growing rapidly and some were already in flower.

  'Sit down,' Paula said, indicating the sofa. 'Isn't it lovely? Just like summer.' She was wearing skin-tight black leather trousers and a loose white silk blouse.

  'Glorious.'

  'I've got Harriet with me; I hope you don't mind.'

  'Why should I mind? Is he here, too?'

  'Oh, yes. He's upstairs in the treatment room.'

  'Suitably prepared, no doubt.'

  'Of course. Harriet, you're required,' Paula shouted loudly, before sitting on the sofa beside her guest. She put her hand on Angela's knee. 'You look great.'
She kissed her fleetingly on the lips.

  'I feel it.' Angela was wearing a new outfit, a white suit over a white blouse, which she'd bought with last week's bonus. She was wearing white high heels with a little gold motif on the toe. For the last two days she had been visiting a series of houses that were being put on the market and had walked to most of them, and her face had caught the sun in the process, giving it a healthy glow.

  But it was not only the lovely weather that was creating a general sense of wellbeing. Paula's presence and the anticipation of what was to come had a lot to do with it.

  'Yes, madam.' Harriet appeared from the kitchen. He was wearing a much more pronounced maid's uniform in black satin, with a low cut neckline and a froufrou skirt. The skirt was so short Angela could see the black tops of his fishnet stockings. Apart from his rather solid torso, with little waist, it would have been difficult to tell that he was a man.

  'Where have you been?' Paula snapped.

  'To the toilet, madam?'

  'Did I give you permission?'

  'No, madam.'

  'Pour the champagne.'

  'Yes, madam.'

  The man tottered over to the table on his high heels and poured the wine. He brought the glasses over to the table and handed them to the women.

  'Cheers,' Paula said, touching their glasses together.

  'Cheers,' Angela replied.

  'Do you remember Ms Strickland?' Paula asked the man.

  'Yes, madam.'

  'She's beautiful, isn't she?'

  'Very beautiful, madam.'

  'Then why haven't you got down on your knees and kissed her feet, you little creep?'

  'I'm sorry, madam, I didn't know I had to.'

  'Just do it.'

  The man dropped to his knees. Angela had her legs crossed, with one foot on the floor. The man pressed his lips to that white shoe.

  'Perhaps he'd like to watch us together,' Angela said coquettishly, sipping her champagne. 'That's enough,' she said, snatching her foot away.

  'Now, that's a good idea. Would you like that, Harriet?'