Trips Abroad
Rising from her desk she looks at the clock. 4 P.M.. Hitting the intercom button on her desk. “Jessica, please have a car waiting for me out front.”
“Yes Ms. Hunter. Your flight leaves at 6:30, and I have the number for the escort service programmed into your hand held. You can call them at your convenience.”
“Thank you Jessica.”
Packing up the various papers lying on her desk she places them in her briefcase; closing it she leaves her office. Leaving the building Heather puts on her designer sunglasses, they complement the short hairstyle and dark business suit. Climbing into the waiting car she pulls out her handheld computer quickly scrolling through the contacts. She finds the number quickly. Pulling out her cell phone.
“Yes I’d like to make an international call. London.”
After a few short rings a voice answers. “This is Jayne.”
“Hi Jayne my name’s Heather Hunter I’m on my way to the airport right now and I’ll be in London tomorrow at 10am, an acquaintance told me that you had special girls.”
“What do you mean by special?” she asks coyly.
Answering bluntly “I’m traveling without any of my slaves and require certain companionship that is generally frowned upon. Was my friend right to send me to you or wrong?”
“What sort of item are you looking for?”
“A woman who’s educated and can hold herself in a business conversation and who won’t be embarrassed to be in a social setting where there is a lot of money involved.”
“I have the perfect girl for you, she’s a University professor. Do you want her to meet you at the airport or your hotel?”
“My hotel’s fine I’d like to get settled.”
“I’ll have her meet you for dinner in the restaurant of your hotel.”
They quickly iron out the details of the meeting and money to be exchanged. “Oh before you go she’ll have her hair pulled up loosely and she’ll be wearing a white dress with thin straps.”
“That will be wonderful, thank you for your help Jayne.” With that Heather hangs up the phone as the car pulls up to the airport.
Arriving at her hotel the next day Heather has the hotel unpack her things and take care of the incidentals that happen while traveling. Finally when the room service leaves Heather picks up a drink and relaxes for a while. After her drink she gets undress exposing her athletic body, her body toned and tanned from the hours spent climbing. Lying across the bed she naps for a couple of hours before her dinner date.
While Heather was still in the air coming to London Sara was finishing up her class at the university.
*
Students can be a serious pain in the arse. Sara stood at the end of her lecture on the “Hidden Language of Shakespeare” and collected her notes. Her long, straight brown hair was drawn into a ponytail. She wore a hideous beige suit, a mid-calf length skirt and a jacket with a white t-shirt under it. Jayne detested her dressing like this but she thought, it keeps the flies off.
One of her students, Mark Lambert was a prize prick. He had a bet with several of his peers that he would date and then lay Sara. At the end of her lecture he had approached her and, assuming the voice of someone with a serious throat problem, had explained the bet and begged for her to conspire with him to win it.
She had, of course, agreed.
(NB Ma’am – this bit is frighteningly true lol)
As she pushed the last file into her groaning briefcase, the one her parents had given her the day she left for her own University studies, her mobile vibrated in her jacket pocket. She pulled it out and realized, from the screen, that it was Jayne.
“No plans for tonight, my dear. A rich yank wants a clever sub, and who else fits the bill?”
“Jayne, please, not tonight. I…..”
“Hush, sweetie. Just listen.”
The details had followed and Sara knew she had no option but to obey.
*
Getting out of bed Heather pads to the bathroom, starting the shower she climbs in and lathers up. Stepping out of the shower she stands in front of the full-length mirror. The water glistens off her toned body, every inch of it darkly tanned. Running her hands down her body she checks for imperfections. Every move brings another muscle into profile. She’s not grossly proportioned yet she could easily win a fitness competition. Taking a towel she dries then powders.
Moving back to the main room she dries her hair before dropping the towel on the floor. Moving to the make stand she sits and quickly applies make up. Using only a bit of eyeliner and eye shadow setting off her dark eyes. Then adding a bit of rouge and lipstick. Moving onto her hair she picks up hair product rubbing her hands together she takes the gel and runs it through her hair, shagging it in a wild look then drying it.
Going to the closet she picks her black dress off the hanger. Forgoing any undergarments she pulls the neckpiece over her head. Wrapping the rest around her waist and tying it in place. The front is low dipped exposing the inside edges of her breasts. He shoulders bare. Turning a bit she inspects herself in the mirror. The style of dress leaving her back bare to the small of her back, the wrap style dress falls to just above her knees with the slit to her thigh. Slipping on a pair of open toed sandals with four-inch heels finishes off her ensemble. Before leaving her room she picks up a small wooden box from her dresser and slips a bracelet on her left wrist.
Stepping into the bar Heather quickly glances around then moves to sit at the bar itself. Smiling at the cute bartender she orders her drink.
“Gentleman Jack on the rocks with a water back.”
He smiles at her, “A strong drink for a woman. I like that.”
Turning in her seat she watches and waits patiently.
*
Sara dressed slowly. When Jayne gave her instructions she had no choice but to obey. Jayne had been her Mistress for 6 months and she was demanding and, if disobeyed, harsh. Sara had been foolish even to question Jayne’s instructions but, just occasionally, she was stupid enough to do so. She knew that the next time she saw Jayne she would wear the marks of disobedience. She looked in her mirror but could see none from her last transgression.
A woman called Heather, an American. Staying at the Manor, an hotel with class and a reputation for discretion. White dress with thin straps – “Do your best,” Jayne had said.
She sat in front of the mirror, wearing only a pair of white silk french knickers, white suspender belt and tan stockings – she hated white stockings, she thought they had the look of a dead body. She carefully applied a small amount of make-up to eyes and lips. She lifted her hair loosely and pinned it in place. She put on a slim, gold necklace. She had showered for 15 minutes, careful to ensure that everything was clean and fresh. Her period had ended 2 days previously but, of course, Jayne knew that perfectly well.
From her wardrobe she took the dress. It was long, its full skirt slit at the side to above the knee, thin straps above the loose silk bodice. She unzipped the back and stepped in, enjoying the feel of the heavy silk as it rose over her legs and body. Cut low at the back, it was easy to zip up.
Strappy white sandals with a thin whore’s strap around the ankle and heels that lifted her calves tightly.
Her bag lay on the bed. It contained a few alternative items; you could never be sure what a client would require.
She checked herself over and left, switching out the light in her hallway and closing and locking the door behind her.
*
The taxi dropped her at the Manor. She went into the lobby and walked through to the bar. Her nerves were always a little stretched at times like this. Jayne, who had run the agency for 4 years had made her act as an escort, initially to humiliate her but increasingly because she saw Sara as an investment. True submissives are hard to find and Sara was definitely a true sub. She feared and craved submission, would do anything for Jayne.
The bar was quietly busy. She sat at a table from where she could see the entrance, ordered a spritzer and sat, patiently her nerves jangling. A man brushed by her, deliberately letting his hand touch her shoulder covered in the red silk shawl. He “apologized,” and Sara smiled a dismissive smile.
Her last client had been vile. She had said she was 45 but looked older and had bad teeth, yellow and stained from smoking. Her breath was foul and her body large and sagging. She had money that was clear. She also was rough and perverted, enjoying Sara’s muffled moans into the gag as she had violated her, beating her and clamping her nipples ferociously. The tears seemed only to fuel her enthusiasm and Sara had returned to her flat later that night in pain and utterly humiliated. She’d sent an email to Jayne. The next day she received a bunch of flowers and was given a week off. Almost sympathy and yet she knew Jayne had been delighted.
She did not know how much more she could take.
*
Heather saw Sara walk in, just as Jayne had described her. Her brown hair pinned up simply but elegantly showing off her neck. The cut of the white, silk dress is simple yet elegant. Showing off Sara’s figure, the sway of her hips and the curve of her hips. If there’s one thing on a woman’s body that an Achilles heel to Heather it’s a firm and rounded arse. And that’s exactly what Sara has. Nice small breasts a firm flat belly then the swell of her hips. Traveling down to her legs covered in virginesk stockings, Heather could see that Sara is no stranger to exercise. Her legs appear to be fit and firm, her calves as she walks by sit high from the heels that she’s wearing. Taking a sip of her drink Heather watches as Sara takes her seat facing the door waiting. A gentleman bumps into her and say’s something to Sara then moves along. Looking about the bar Heather watches the patrons seeing if anyone else is watching this picturesque woman wait. Paying her tab with the bartender Heather picks up the wooden box and her small purse and stands. With her movement several heads turn towards her. She’s long since ignored the looks she receives, it’s not just her athletic build that causes people to be drawn to her, it’s the way she holds herself. The confidence that she exudes is like a smell that draws people. Moving from the bar she starts to move across the room not really walking, not even strutting. It’s movement pure in form, no waste of energy.
*
“You’re Sara?”
Heather was the sort of woman it would be impossible not to notice and Sara had seen her sitting at the bar. The dress was stunning. She had not expected this would be her client. Life, in her experience, did not treat her so kindly. The light touch on her shoulder had sent a small thrill through her, and the eyes, which she now held with her own, had a mischievous, mocking yet imperious quality she could not miss.
“That’s right. Are you Heather?” Sara stood as she spoke.
“I am. Nice to meet you.” Sara offered her hand but Heather took her elbow and pulled her gently, but firmly towards her and kissed her cheek, almost her mouth.
They separated and looked at each other closely. They sat.
“A drink, I think,” said Heather. She summonsed a waiter and, without reference to Sara ordered two glasses of dry, white wine.
“Are you in London long, Heather?”
“A few days, my plans are flexible. Tell me about yourself.”
And Sara did. Somehow she found herself, normally very reticent, speaking freely to this woman.
“So Jayne is your Mistress?”
Sara looked around. Heather spoke in the same even tone but it had, to Sara’s mind, rung loud through the bar even though no-one seemed to have heard.
“Yes,” she whispered and lowered her eyes, blushing. She blushed easily – a constant irritation since it betrayed her feelings.
Sara felt Heather’s hand on her own. “Don’t be embarrassed. Isn’t it why you’re here?”
“Yes.”
“Reluctant?”
Sara hesitated; looked up into Heather’s eyes and responded truthfully, “No. No, I don’t think I am.”
“Good.” God, those eyes.
*
Dinner was simple and excellent. A Waldorf salad, followed by Salmon poached in wine with herbs and a few vegetables. Sara sat beside Heather and enjoyed her company – she was amusing, quick witted and, above all, beautiful.
Wine flowed, albeit not to excess. They spoke freely, warmly. Sara, when she had time to think, could not remember when she had last met a woman so captivating. She found herself touching Heather’s arm frequently, enjoying her company like that of an old friend.
*
Halfway through the dinner Heather slid the wooden box from her side of the table to set it next to Sara’s plate. “I believe in giving gifts to my companions.”
Looking at the box quizzically Sara dabbed her mouth, placed her napkin back on her lap then tentatively reached towards the box. Opening it slowly she looked inside and saw two golden orbs, each the size of a duck’s egg and with a fine, golden chain lying around them. They nestled in a cream silk lining. Sara set down the box and lifted them from the box. She found that the chain was finely connected to one of them but seemed to pass through it to the center of the second. Taking the chain into one hand Sara lifted it up letting the one orb “chime” into the other. The chime set off a slight vibration in her hand.
Sara had seen such things before in her life. She had not, it must be conceded, led an entirely sheltered life and her recent activities for Jayne had certainly not been cloistered. What puzzled her was the nature of Heather’s gift. These balls were clearly extravagantly expensive, beautifully crafted and perhaps of a precious metal. The box alone bore testimony to that. Heather was, it appeared, rich so perhaps the value was immaterial to her. Sara looked up at Heather.
“They are beautiful.”
“Aren’t they? Do you know what they’re for?”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“I, I don’t understand.”
“It’s not complicated, Sara. Put them in.”
“I will, Heather.”
“Now.”
Sara looked into Heather’s eyes, aghast. “Now?”
“If you’re going to question everything, this could be a painful night for you.”
“But…”
“Now.”
Sara made to stand. “Are you leaving?” “No, Heather. I am going to the ladies to put them in.”
“Sit down.” Sara sat and Heather took her hand. She opened it and took the balls from her. She took the gold chain and showed Sara that it was at least 4 feet long. She clipped the end to her own gold bracelet, where a small ring seemed purpose made. She handed the balls back to Sara.
“Now, put them in.”
Realization dawned and Sara looked around feeling that all eyes were on her. She stared into Heather’s unflinching eyes and knew she had to make a decision. Put the balls down and leave or do it. Jayne was not in her mind, only this woman whose eyes bored into her. She was wet, she knew that. Her French knickers would, she knew, be almost transparent.
She reached under the table, grateful for its full cloth and, as discreetly as possible, opened the slit in her skirt and spread her knees. Her right knee was touching Heather’s. She reached and pulled the crotch of her knickers aside.
Sara leaned back in her chair and settled herself. A few deep breaths. God, this was awful. She picked up the balls and looked at them and then, eyes fixed on Heather’s, placed them in her lap. She slowly eased them down between her thighs, feeling the cold metal like a fire there. She pressed the first against her and realized she couldn’t do it sitting as she was. She shifted her bum forward in the chair until she could get at herself properly. Heather’s eyes laughed.
As the first slipped in, Sara made a gentle moan and put her free hand over her mouth with her napkin. She looked around, knowing she was blushing furiously. She felt the chain between the orbs on her sensitive flesh and started to push the second ball. It went inside slightly more easily but still a gasp escaped her lips behind the napkin. She leaned back, trying to relax but knowing she couldn’t. She took deep breaths and tried to steady herself. As she calmed she sat back more normally and was washed by a wave of erotic stimulation as the balls moved inside her.
Heather took her hand. “Well done – pudding?”
Heather ate a strawberry pavlova with gusto but Sara was beyond food. She perfunctorily sipped her coffee as Heather downed a large brandy, every movement of Heather’s wrist working magic inside her.
“I think,” said Heather, “that it’s time I showed you my room.”
Heather pushed back her chair but Sara restrained her. “The chain,” she said.
“What about it?” Heather stood and to Sara the chain seemed to be visible around the room. She stood hastily to get close to Heather and conceal it but she was too slow and Heather started to walk away, Sara scurrying to collect her things and keep up. She lost interest in those around her, past caring if her humiliation was apparent, the chain pulling taut from the slit of her dress.
Heather strode to the lifts and Sara kept pace with her. They waited a few moments for a lift and, on entering and before the doors closed Heather opened the slit in her skirt and looked at the chain disappearing into her knickers.
“Nice lingerie,” she said and smiled.
The doors closed and she moved close to Sara, cupping her breast in her hand. Without turning Heather presses the button for the penthouse. Lucky for Sara the bellhop wasn’t yet on duty. As the doors closed, Heather brushed Sara’s breasts with the hand that had the bracelet on it making the nipples hard and poke through the material. Each movement of Heather’s hand caused the chain to tug and make the orbs chime together. A small whimper escapes Sara’s lips her legs start to quiver. “My God, she’s barely touched me and I’m going to cum.” Biting her lower lip Sara tries to stifle a moan when Heather’s other hand rubs up the inside of her leg. Without thought Sara automatically spreads her legs wider.
Smiling to herself Heather, stares at Sara as she caresses her. Cupping her damp sex in one hand Heather reaches up with her other and gives one of the thin straps a quick tug tearing it easily. Sara’s eyes snap open as she feels the side of her dress falling exposing one torrid, hard nipple to this strong woman. Her eyes dart from Heather’s smiling face to the doors then back. Heather’s hand caresses her across her neck then to her still covered breast. Staring straight into Sara’s eyes she gives a sharp tug to the other strap, letting it too fall, leaving Sara bare to the waste. Through this all Heather’s other hand is tucked under the slit in Sara’s dress cupping her wet panties. Feeling the elevator slowing as it nears the top floor Heather presses a finger firmly against Sara’s clit, upon contact Sara looses all of her control, from the pent up humiliation from dinner to standing in the elevator with this woman exposing her to god knows who, touching her is too much. She reaches behind her as she stumbles grabbing the rail to keep from falling over. Her juices dribble from her sex as her orgasm roles through her. The contractions so intense that she losses control of her bladder and wets herself a little. The smell of her sex and pee flood the elevator.
Suddenly stepping back Heather turns towards the door as it opens. Sara sees her raise the hand that was just touching her sex a second ago raise to her lips. Her tongue snaking out and licking a finger, nodding to herself Heather steps off the elevator giving a slight tug on the chain, inciting a gasp from Sarah. Stumbling, Sara starts to pull up the ruined top of her dress as she follows.
Without turning, “leave it.”
Blushing profusely Sara lets the top fall exposing her hard nipples. Exiting the elevator she sees that there’s only two rooms to the floor.
*
The suite was large, a sitting room lavishly furnished. A door led off to a bathroom and another leading to a bedroom. In the corner of the sitting room was a desk with a laptop and space for reading and writing. Heather led Sara to a bar and poured two long glasses of wine. She handed one to Sara and raised her glass to her, pulling the chain and making Sara squirm a little.
“Let me explain a few things. Tonight I have paid for you. You will do everything I ask. Shh.” This as Sara made to speak. “I will not damage you. You will find out things about you that you did not know. But first, some preparation.”
Turning Heather picks up the phone. “Room service… Yes this is Ms. Hunter in the penthouse I’d like a bottle of champagne and strawberries brought up to my room….. Just leave it on the table in the sitting room…. Oh and two glasses please.”
With that she hangs up the phone and turns to Sarah standing there with breasts exposed and her juices dripping down her thighs staining her stockings dark.
Moving to the table in the sitting room Sara has no choice but to follow. Heather took the chain from her bracelet. Pointing to the table.
“Kneel here.”
Sara sets her wine glass down and crawls onto the table as instructed. Her breathing getting short as her excitement rises.
Taking Sara’s hands Heather guides them behind her back resting them at the small of her back clasped together. She then guides her so that Sara’s shoulders are resting on the table her head turned and her arse up in the air. Taking her legs, Heather guides Sara to spread them to the edge of the table. She takes the chain that dangles from between Sara’s legs and clips it to Sara’s necklace – impossible now for her to lift her head without pulling the chain tight into her lips. Then she lifts Sara’s dress and drapes it up over her back covering her head and exposing her wet and stained panties.
“Stay put until I come and get you. I have some things to get ready.”
*
Sara knelt uncomfortably on the table. Her shoulders ached and, with the dress pulled over her head she could see very little. She could, however, hear and she stiffened when the room bell rang. “It’s open,“ she heard Heather call from the bathroom. A sense of panic overwhelmed her as she heard the door open.
“Put it on the side in the sitting room.”
She heard feet padding into the room. “Oh, sorry.” Did she also hear a chuckle in the male voice as a tray was placed on the side. She heard the clinking of ice in a bucket. “Er, should I open the champagne, Ma’am?” The last word was heavy with amusement.
“Just leave it,” murmured Sara from under her dress. Tears were coursing down her cheeks under her hair and the white dress.
“Yes, Ma’am. Will that be all?” Heather’s voice, “That’s fine, thank you.” “Thank you, Ma’am.” The door closed and Sara heard the lock click. Interminable waiting as she heard Heather moving around the rooms. Feet padded towards her over the thick carpet. A pat on her bum. “He won’t forget that in a hurry. Nor will you!”
The dress was pulled back over her thighs and Heather unclipped the chain and helped her off the table. “You have done well, Sara, stand up”
Thank you, Ma’am.” Sara stood, her breasts exposed, her dress loose around her waist. Heather stood back and studied her.
Heather was now wearing a black satin robe, loosely tied around her waist. Her hair was wet and she looked fresh, strong and confident. She reached forward and wiped a tear from Sara’s cheek. “Was that uncomfortable for you?” “Yes, Ma’am.” “Good, not such a slut that you enjoy it but enough of a slut to stay there. Very good. Take off the dress.”
Sara stepped out of the dress and, momentarily, rued the damage it had suffered. She laid it carefully on the chair behind her and stood in her knickers and stockings. The chain dangled, lightly touching her legs if she moved. She was wet from where her pee had leaked slightly in the lift, knew her makeup must have run a little from her tears, knew she must look a sight. Heather reached and touched her knickers, stroking the line of the chain and staring into Sara’s eyes the while.
“Humiliation is good for a sub, Sara. You understand?” “Yes, Ma’am.” “Good, follow me.” She turned and headed for the bathroom. Sara followed, her shoulders aching from her position on the table. The bathroom was vast and tastefully decorated. A large shower cubicle stood in one corner, the bath was on a raised dais at the far end. The toilet and bidet stood beside each other, and next to a long vanitory unit. There was a low stool beside the shower. Heather led her by the hand and had kneel in front of the stool and bend over it. “Preparation.”
Heather told Sara to watch as she took, from a drawer in the vanitory unit, a large rubber bag from which hung a long rubber tube with a tap half way down it’s length. She lifted a bottle of liquid soap from the shelf and poured a small amount into the bag which she then filled with warm water. She hung the bag on a hook on the wall and left it hanging there as she came behind Sara. Sara felt her hands caressing her bum and then pulling her knickers down over her thighs. They were left around her slightly spread knees. Heather hummed quietly as she went about her business.
A finger traced the line of Sara’s pussy and then she felt a cold sensation at her bum. She was no stranger to lubrication and was clear what to expect next as the cold, lubricated rubber plug at the end of the tube was pushed gently but firmly into her. Heather stroked her back and Sara felt warmth invade her as the tap was opened. It continued to run inside and she felt herself distending as Heather continued to caress her back and shoulders. The feeling grew as pressure on the balls in her pussy mounted. Slight cramps gave way to genuine discomfort. “Ma’am, please.” “Shh.”
Sara felt full, the water in her pressing inside her. Mercifully, the influx stopped and Heather clamped off the nozzle and removed the tube, leaving her stopped. Heather’s mouth came near to her ear, “We are going to have such a time, Sara. I’m pleased with you. Now, stand.”
“Champagne I think.” Heather took her hand and led her back to the sitting room. She placed a towel on a chair and bad Sara sit.” She did, despite the plug in her bum causing considerable discomfort. She squirmed under Heather’s amused gaze. Heather poured champagne for them both and handed her a glass. “To us, “ she said. She drank deeply, Sara sipped. “All of it Sara.” She swallowed the glass’s contents, it was immediately refilled.
Heather kissed her on the mouth, pushing her tongue inside, sucking her as her free hand pressed onto her stomach. Sara moaned. The hand reached down between her thighs and stroked her where the chain slipped from between her lips. Heather moved away. She looked at the clock and went to the telephone, dialed.
“Jessica? Yes. Good,” She went into a long conversation about business affairs and occasional questions concerning her (Sara guessed) household. She watched Sara much of the time, sitting with her hand inside her robe, except when she needed to write something on the pad by the phone. Sara felt increasingly uncomfortable and at one point said, “Ma’am, please – I need the toilet.” Heather merely shook her head and turned away to forestall any further interruptions.
At length, and with Sara at breaking point, the conversation ended. “Come here.” Sara stood and walked unsteadily to her. Heather’s hand was between her thighs, hidden from Sara’s view but it was obvious she was stroking herself. She instructed sara to kneel at her feet. She stroked her face and said, “never speak when I am busy.” “But, Ma’am, I am……..” She was silenced by a shard slap to her face. “Never. Now, walk around the room.”
Sara stood and walked around the room. Heather had her touch her toes twice during her progress. She returned to stand in front of Heather who opened her robe and spread her legs showing Sara how her fingers were deep in her pussy. She slipped them out and reached between Sara’s thighs. Through them she moved to the plug in Sara’s rear and pulled it gently, smirking up at Sara’s pained expression.
“Come with me.”
She led Sara back to the bathroom. She kissed her and played with her breasts, her clitoris and the plug. Eventually, as Sara was on the point of agony, she had her squat over the toilet and pull out the plug. Sara voided herself, ashamed and deeply humiliated. “Take out the balls.”
Sara stood and bent her knees, taking the chain and gingerly easing the eggs through her lips. Heather watched as her lips dilated and the first golden sphere eased out, followed shortly by the second. Sara thought she would cum, her body responding to the sensations which had followed her violation with water, plug, hand and humiliation
“Take off your stockings.” Sara did so and was led to the shower. Heather removed her robe and pulled Sara into the steaming cubicle. She turned her round to face the wall and proceeded to wash her hair, back, buttocks and legs. Turning her around again, she worked on her face, chest, stomach and legs. She instructed Sara to wash her and she repeated Heather’s actions. When she had finished they stood in the hot water’s cascade and Heather held and caressed her, kissing her and fondling gently between her legs, invading her for the first time with her fingers.”
Eventually they separated and left the cubicle, taking up large fluffy towels and drying each other.
When she was led into to the bedroom Sara noticed it was past midnight.
Heather went to her drawer and pulled out a black silk scarf and a slim dildo attached to a black leather harness which she placed on a table beside the bed. She sat in a chair and beckoned Sara to her, indicating she should kneel between her wide-spread knees. She didn’t let her kneel low though, pulling her head to her breasts she let her suckle at a nipple as she stroked her long, wet hair and caressed her nipples. Slowly she pushed Sara down until her face was between her thighs and she held her head as Sara leant into her and began lapping at her sex. Sara’s tongue lavished attention on it, licking the swelling lips and probing gently between them, Heather’s fingers running through her hair. Heather pushed her away. She stood, towering over her kneeling sub. She handed her the harness and Sara knew enough to fit it, ensuring the small nub inside the leather rested close to Heather clitoris. She enjoyed running her hands between her temporary Mistress’s thighs, pulling the soft leather tight and adjusting it until the dildo, which did not threaten to split her in two, stood proudly in front of her, her lips pouting between the straps. Sara looked up into Heather’s eyes and leaned to close her mouth over the tip of the dildo as her hands caressed her Mistress’s thighs, reaching up to cup her bum and softly open her cheeks.
Heather walked away and went to her drawer again. She turned and handed Sara a silky teddy, black and see through which she put on. Her small breasts pressed against the soft fabric as she pulled it down to button it between her thighs. Heather tied the silk scarf carefully around Sara’s eyes, led her to the bed and gently guided her onto it, lying on her side. Heather lay beside her and they kissed, gently and deeply, running hands over the other’s body, stroking, caressing. Sara, deprived of sight, felt the gentle hands and the warm lips intently. She also felt the press of the dildo against her stomach.
*
“When we are in the company of ‘normal’ people, call me Heather. Otherwise, well, you know, don’t you?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
The aircraft was descending toward the airport and Sara’s seat belt bit into her. She was scared, of course.
She had thought the first night after that fateful telephone conversation, purchased for half a million dollars – flattering. Sold by Jayne, not so flattering. Sara had never considered the possibility of being sold, like a car or a dishcloth or a slave. The word slipped into her mind and the thought horrified her then she realized that it was what she wanted. Jayne had, apparently, tired of her, sending her out to whore for rich women in sumptuous hotels to humiliate her. Heather had been one such woman and had found her, it seemed, half a million dollars worth of value.
Her packing and resolving her own domestic issues had seemed perfunctory. Her job at the University was lost in a tirade of abuse from her Professor. Her home was put in the hands of a letting agent, her cats delivered to a close friend, a friend who begged her not to leave, who plied her with white wine and practically kidnapped her until Heather had come and said, quite simply, “She wants to come and I will look after her, just like you will look after her cats.”
Her cats.
Was this her destiny?
They made their way from the plane, through immigration to baggage reclaim, through customs to the exit. Sara was bewildered and tired but could not have failed to be impressed by the Jaguar that met them or the simple, stunning beauty of the chauffeuse. Even in her less than perceptive state Sara had noticed the driver bow, yes, bow to Heather and that Heather had quite simply patted the girl’s head!
So here they were.
*