Date: Fri, 24 Aug 2001 05:33:33 -0700 (PDT) From: Selena Anders Subject: Black Tower I'm never going home again. Never! But I was cold and hungry. I must have lost twenty pounds since I left home. At around ten at night, I was sitting on the curb in the rain, crying, with my squeegy in my hand and my bucket kicked over; when a woman in tall heels came and stood over me. "Listen sweetie, why don't you come and sit in my office? You can have some coffee, and a donut if you want." I looked up. This woman was dressed totally establishment, in a grey business suit and silver shirt. She was holding a big black umbrella over us. I wouldn't have gone with her, except that she had promised a donut. So I grabbed my stuff and followed her into this big steel and glass office tower, shivering as she punched the elevator button for the 54th floor. The carpet was thick and soft in the big reception area of Sapphco, whatever that was. The lady obviously worked there, and I followed her down a short hallway to a huge office with lots of modern furniture. There was only one lamp on, next to a big couch. I sat on the couch, and she disappeared. A few minutes later she was back, accompanied by a pretty blonde girl with a tray, and a big fluffy white towel over her arm. "I'm sorry, the donuts are from this afternoon's break, but the coffee's fresh." I didn't care. The coffee was hot and the donuts were filling, and they tasted fresh enough to me. Besides, I was too busy staring at the blonde girl, who wore only the ultra-sheer top of a baby-doll pyjama, garter-belt and stockings. The outfit concealed nothing, and it was very obvious that she kept her pussy shaved. She set the tray aside and knelt at my feet, waiting patiently. "Now let's get these soaking clothes off you, and get you dried out." The woman continued, "Shelly, help her out of her clothes." "Yes, Mistress." The girl named Shelly replied, and then she started to undress me! I still had coffee in my hand, so she started at my feet. In no time she had my boots and old socks off, and reached for the zipper of my jeans. I was too stunned to stop her, and besides, that big towel looked awfully inviting. So she pulled down my jeans and panties, and helped me step out of them. Shelly stood up, "Excuse me Milady, could I take your coffee for a moment while I finish helping you out of your clothes?" I handed her the cup, which she carefully placed on the tray before unzipping my saturated thin jacket, and unbuttoned my shirt. As she gently pulled them off my shoulders I just had to ask, "Shelly, why did you call this lady Mistress, and why did you call me Milady?" My hostess in the grey suit had taken her seat behind a large desk, and was watching us with a small smile. Shelly answered me in a cheery voice that seemed to warm up the whole room, "Because she is my Mistress and my job is to please her. I am helping you remove your clothing, and I will dry you because she asked me to, so I know it will please her. I hope it will please you too. I called you Milady because you are my Mistress' guest, and I don't know your name." I don't wear a bra, since my A-cup tits don't need one, so as soon as my shirt was off, Shelly picked up the towel and started to wipe my back with it. "Mmm, you have a very nice touch, Shelly." I told her. "Thank you Milady, it is part of my job." "And what job is that?" I asked, afraid of the answer. She giggled, "I like to think of myself as a PPP." "What's that?" Shelly giggled again, but never did she waver in the perfect amount of pressure she applied with the towel. "A Professional Pleasure Provider." My hostess in the grey suit rose and addressed me, "I will be going out now. I'll just take these things to the valet service." She quickly emptied the pockets of my jeans and jacket, leaving my stuff on a table. "I leave you in Shelly's capable hands. Whatever you desire, she will endeavour to provide. Good night!" Then she walked out. Shelly finished drying me. Was it my imagination, or did she pay special attention to my breasts and upper thighs? "What would be Milady's pleasure be next? Would you like a blanket, and perhaps I could fix your hair?" That sounded wonderful, so Shelly went to an office cabinet and produced a large cashmere blanket, and a hairbrush. She wrapped the soft blanket around me as I sat on a straight-backed chair, then stood behind me and began to brush out my damp tangled mop. Her movements with the brush were steady and smooth, never once pulling at a knot. The way her other hand caressed my hair and my head was sensuous and relaxing. I let my head fall back, and it came to rest against Shelly's breasts. Unable to continue with my hair, Shelly laid the brush aside and began to slowly massage my scalp. "Mmm, that feels wonderful." I told her. "Are you like, a slave or something?" "Oh no!" she giggled again, "A slave can be sold, which I can't. And a slave cannot leave her Mistress, which I could if I wanted to, but I never would. I serve my Mistress not because I am forced to, but because I love it. Sometimes she even asks me to take care of a pretty lady like yourself, because she is kind and generous." Shelly's hands moved down to my neck and shoulders. "Oh, where did you learn to do a massage like that?" The question was meant to be rhetorical, and a compliment, but she answered anyway. "My mistress sent me to the Edith Svenson School in Stockholm. If she wants any little service, she gets me the best teachers in how to do it." She giggled again, "But she refuses to let me learn to type!" I yawned. I hadn't realized that I was getting tired, but Shelly's hands were so relaxing. "Oh dear!" Shelley said, "Should I take you to bed?" I don't know why the suggestion didn't strike me as outrageous. Instead of protesting, all I could think of was to ask, "Where?" "Saphco's penthouse apartment, one floor up!" So we walked together back down the hall to the elevators, she in her see-through nightie and me in my blanket. We took another, smaller elevator up. If the office had been plush, the penthouse was breath taking. "Who lives here?" I asked, "Your Mistress?" Shelly giggled again. She giggled so much that it would be easy to dismiss her as a dumb blonde, but I got the feeling she was just naturally happy. "Nobody! It's for out-of-town executives and other special guests such as yourself, Milady." She led me into a bedroom that belonged in an expensive hotel, and turned down the covers on the King sized bed. "Would you like a bath, or just straight to bed?" "How 'bout a shower in the morning?" I mumbled, as I dropped the blanket and let myself fall face-first into the inviting pillows. "Would you like a back-rub?" "Oh yes, please!" Shelly opened a drawer in a bedside table, and found a bottle of massage oil. Of course. Obviously she was some kind of Genie, and whatever she wants is always in the nearest drawer. Certainly her fingers were magic as they began to soothe my back. As her hands worked on my tired muscles, she began to tell me about herself, and about her work. Saphco is just a big investment brokerage, but it is run entirely by women, only lends to women, and only finances businesses that are owned by women. Shelly had started out seven years ago, when she was only sixteen. Back then she was a kind of Girl Friday, making coffee and photocopies. But she and a few others in her position started to find themselves doing little services like shoulder and back-rubs for the senior managers, then less senior staff. Some of these massages became openly sexual, and eventually a new category of employee was created at Saphco, to provide pleasurable favours, including sexual ones to the other staff. Shelly's talk of sex, along with the sensual pleasure of her hands on my body, was definitely turning me on. Her hands had moved down to my butt, and I spread my legs for her to be able to massage my thighs. As her skilled hands slid between my upper thighs, I moaned, "Oh yes, Shelly! Make love to me! Make me feel so good!" This time her giggle was deeper in tone, a wicked chuckle as she assured me that she intended to do just that. "Do you know what my Mistress likes?" Shelly asked me. "She likes me to dribble a big squirt of this massage oil so it runs down her ass." And suddenly I felt a warm flood of the oil at the top of my ass, and it began to run down my crack toward my anus. "Yes!" I tell her, "Do with me whatever your mistress likes!" "Yes I will." Shelley whispered, as her oily finger slipped smoothly into my lubricated ass hole. Moments later, two fingers slid into my cunt, and she began to slowly and sensuously manipulate both of my holes at once. This felt absolutely delicious, and I began to raise my hips to meet her questing digits. Somehow she managed to avoid touching my clitoris as she continued to pleasure me. Slowly I raised my ass until I was on my knees, with my thighs spread to give Shelley easy access to my sex. Still, she kept on moving her fingers inside me. She wasn't so much finger-fucking me, as gently applying her marvelous massage skill to the inside of my anus and vagina. The build-up to my orgasm was exquisitely, agonizingly slow, but when it finally arrived a tidal wave of ecstasy crashed over me, leaving me cast up on the bed like a quivering jellyfish, unable to move. As I drifted off to sleep, Shelly softly drew the sheet up over me and whispered in my ear, "I must return to my Mistress, but I'll be back in the morning."