Date: Fri, 27 Dec 2002 19:04:50 +0800 From: MadC Subject: the things people do The Things People Do By MadC Note: feedback is very welcome at the_mac@dbzmail.com I was thirteen when my parents died. My sister was twenty, so she became my legal guardian. We stayed in the family house for a while, and then sold it and moved into a smaller place. I loved my sister, but by the time I was sixteen, I had started to realize that she wasn't really cut out for the responsibilities of running a house, or looking after an another person. She wasn't a bad person, she was just prone to making stupid decisions, and she was terrible at managing money. She had an apparently endless string of useless boyfriends, who invariably sponged money from her, and she could never seem to keep a job. By sixteen I had already started to try and take more of the responsibilities onto myself. I made sure the house was clean and tidy, made sure the bills were paid, that kind of thing. Between that and studying for my higher exams at school I didn't have a whole lot of free time, but it was okay. And Liz, my sister, had managed to stay in the same job for seven or eight months, and was making a bit more money than she usually did, and everything seemed better. It wasn't to last, though. I came home from school one Wednesday afternoon to find Liz at home, instead of at work, and crying. To be honest, I assumed that she'd just broken up with whatever her latest boyfriend was called and taken the afternoon off so she could mourn, so I wasn't too concerned. I went and put my bag in my room, and changed out of my school uniform, before going and making two cups of tea and taking one through to Liz. She mumbled a thank-you, without looking at me, and tried to clean her face with a tissue, and then glanced quickly at me. And I immediately knew that this was more serious than a dumped boyfriend; she was scared about telling me something. The last time I'd seen her look like this was when she'd bought a jacket for Tim or Tom or whatever that guy's name had been, with the money I needed to get a new uniform. I sighed, and sat down beside her. At times like this I always felt like the older sister, not the younger one. `Liz? What's wrong?'. Silence, and she still wouldn't meet my eyes. I tried again, with a sterner tone of voice. "Liz, what's wrong? Have you done something?' `Kat, I'm in trouble.' Kat had been what she called me when I was little, when we were both little. Now she always called me Kate like everyone else. Kat was reserved for when she was really upset. `Okay, go on.' ` I, I stole some money'. And here I remember thinking, oh shit. She stopped, and blew her nose, and rubbed her wet eyes, and carried on. `Not much, just a little bit, just because Barry needed it. You know me, Kat, I'm not a thief, it was just a couple of times. But Miss Lessard caught me.' Miss Lessard was her boss, and the owner of the company. I had only met her once, I remembered her seeming distant and chilly, but impressive. She was only in her early thirties, and had already built up several successful businesses from scratch. She didn't seem like the type to forgive and forget. `Is she going to the police?' `She says she will, but she hasn't yet. She, she's got it on video'. Liz paused. `But it's not just that. Kat, she wants the other money back, right away.' Now I was totally confused, `What other money?' Liz looked even more ashamed. `Just after I started I borrowed some money from Miss Lessard. We really needed it, Kat. We needed the new cooker and fridge, and we still had lawyers' bills to pay from way back, and we really needed it. And she said I could pay her off over a few years, but now she says she wants it all back at once.' Again, oh shit. `How much?'. Silence. `Liz, how much?' `Eight thousand.' I remember almost wanting to laugh. There was no way we could pay. I couldn't figure out why Liz had borrowed so much, either. I guessed it had been for a boyfriend, but interrogating her wouldn't help. `Well, we've not got it, so there's not much anyone can do.' `Kat, she says she can take the house if we don't pay'. I couldn't even think of a reply this time. The house had been the one stable, definite thing in our lives; selling the bigger house had meant we hadn't even need a mortgage for this place, it was completely ours, an I had thought it always would be. I just looked silently at Liz. `She made me sign a bit of paper when she gave me the loan. I didn't really read it properly. She'd said the loan was interest-free, so that was the only thing I checked. But I guess she can make us pay it back whenever, and I think I put the house up for security or whatever.' Poor Liz. She really wasn't any good with money. I cradled my face in my hands. `But Kat .' I looked at her. `Miss Lessard said, she said we might be able to work something out. I don't know what she means, but she wants to talk to you. She's going to come round this evening, at six. I couldn't really say no, could I?' I looked at my watch. It was already five. Miss Lessard arrived at six precisely. She walked straight in, and ignored my sister's offers of drinks and food. She stood in the middle of the living room, and looked at me for what seemed like forever. Finally, she turned to my sister. `Thank you, Liz, you may go now.' Liz started to say something, and Miss Lessard cut her off. `I said now. Go and watch a movie, or something.' Liz looked at me, and I shrugged. She looked like she was going to say something, and then just put her coat on, and left, looking worried. Miss Lessard sat down on the sofa, and gestured for me to do the same. I sat carefully at the other end of the sofa, and looked at her. Like I said, she was in her early thirties. She had fairly short black hair, cut in a simple style that still looked like she'd been to a really expensive stylist. She had just a touch of make-up on, and her clothes too were simple but expensive looking, black trousers and a grey cashmere jumper. She was slim, medium-height, with piercing grayish green eyes. As I was looking at her, she was observing me, until after a minute or so, she spoke. `Well, Kate. We've met once, and you seemed, how can I say this without being rude to your sister? You seemed a bit sharper than Liz. She's a lovely girl, but naive. You, on the other hand . Anyway, I think I can speak plainly to you. Your sister has explained her, or should I say, your little problem to you?' I nodded. `Good. I can show you the document she signed if you want to check for yourself that I'm not lying. The video, too, if you want?' I shook my head, and she continued. `Good. Well, as I said, I will speak plainly. I am in a position to ruin your life, if I want to. We both know this. But there's something you can do to save both yourself and your sister.' She paused, and looked at me. I tried to speak, but my mouth was dry, and I had to swallow hard before any sound would come out. `What?' `I want to fuck you'. Our gazes locked, and she smiled, but without any warmth in her eyes. `I looked at the floor, knowing that I was blushing. The room seemed hot. `If you agree, this is what will happen. Listen carefully. I will meet you outside your school on Friday afternoon, after your last class. On Sunday evening, I will drop you back here, and after that everything will be okay. I will destroy the video-tape, and I will make up a new document giving your sister three years to repay the loan. I will even give her excellent references to find a new job. In between the two points . that's the fun part. You will absolutely obey me, at all times. I will use your body in whatever ways I feel like. In short, Kate, you will be my little slave. My little sex slave. Do you agree?' I wanted to ask for more time to think, but I was scared to, and I knew deep down that it wouldn't make any difference. It would only be a weekend, and the alternative was terrible. Having to find accommodation, nasty cheap hotels, maybe even shelters, my sister in court - it was unthinkable. I didn't even know for sure if I could trust Miss Lessard to keep her end of the bargain, but I really didn't have any choice. I nodded, and then, when she tilted her head quizzically, I forced the words out. `Yes. I agree.' She smiled, and reached over, and patted my knee. `Very good. I will see you at four o'clock on Friday, then. You don't need to bring anything, I'll provide everything you need.' She got up, and without looking at me again, walked to the front door and left. The next couple of days were a bit of a blur. I couldn't concentrate on anything, and I had this funny buzzing feeling in the pit of my stomach the whole time, the same way I felt before important tests. I didn't tell Liz much, just that I would be away from Friday to Sunday, and that everything would be okay. I kept repeating that, I suppose I was trying to convince myself. Liz must have guessed roughly what was happening, but I suppose she didn't want to pry. She must have felt terrible about it. She knew she was meant to be the one looking after me. She cried a lot, and so did I. It was an unhappy time. Friday afternoon came. I walked out of the school gate, and stood there, looking up and down the road. I was wearing my stupid school uniform, we all had to wear it. Dark blue skirt, matching blazer, white blouse, a striped tie. About twenty metres down the road a big silver car honked its horn, and I walked slowly towards it. I tried to see in, but the windows were tinted. As I approached, though, the passenger side window rolled down, and I could see Miss Lessard. She gestured for me to get in, and I did. The window rolled back up, and we drove off. For a few minutes, neither of us spoke.She glanced at me occasionally as she drove. Finally she spoke, her tone hard to read. `I'm glad to see you here. I'm sure you've been having second thoughts, but rest assured, you did the right thing. Now, first of all, I thought we'd go and get a snack, and maybe do some shopping.' I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just sat quietly as we drove through the sunny late-afternoon streets. The buzzing in my stomach was stronger than ever. We ended up at the big new department store near the harbour. Miss Lessard parked her big BMW in the underground carpark, and we took the lift up to the main shopping floor. She didn't speak to me, and hardly looked at me; it was almost like she'd forgotten I was there. She walked quickly, and I had to hurry to keep up with her. She paused briefly to look at a plan of the store, and then we walked directly to one of the posh little coffee shops, not even slowing down to look in shop windows. The coffee shop was all dark wood and shiny steel and smoked glass, and all the waitresses were foreign and gorgeous, with blonde hair and exotic accents. Outside, the mall was full of harassed parents and school kids running rampage; in here there was just quiet ambient music, and tables with rich-looking people chatting quietly. We were shown to a table at the back, next to the big plate window overlooking the water. Miss Lessard ordered for both of us, without looking at the menu or asking me what I wanted. Coffee for her, hot chocolate with cream for me, a plate of cakes. We both sat quietly for a while, looking at the window, and then she turned her attention to me. I could feel the weight of her gaze resting on me. She smiled. `You look lovely. I should have told you that earlier.' `Thanks', I mumbled. I wondered if I should return the compliment. She did look fairly stunning, I couldn't deny it. The same subtle, minimal makeup, hair immaculate as ever, a simple gold necklace hanging around her neck. She was dressed as if she'd come straight from the office, which she probably had, in a black and white business suit, that had probably cost thousands and been made by someone famous. The skirt was quite short, I had noticed on the walk from the car, but she still looked supremely elegant. She leaned towards me a little bit. `Now, you remember that you agreed to do anything and everything I said?' I nodded, mutely. `Good. Now, are you wearing panties?' My mouth felt dry again. I nodded. `Describe them to me' I bit my lip, as embarrassed as I had ever been, but she just raised an eyebrow slightly and waited for me to answer. `I don't know, they're nothing special. White, quite big, cotton I think. I got them at a chain store.' I had to force myself to stop speaking, not to just ramble on. Actually, I was wearing my best panties, my cleanest newest ones. They were boring white cotton, from a chain store, because that was the only kind I owned. I'd never had a boyfriend, I'd only been kissed once; I'd never been in a situation where someone might care what my underwear looked like. She smiled again, and patted my hand where it lay on the table. `They sound very nice. But what I want you to do now is to go to the ladies' room, and to take them off. Then I want you to come back and to give them to me. Understand?' I just sat there. I had no idea what to do. She looked at me, expressionless. I knew it was a kind of test; I knew this was perhaps the last point at which I could back out of the deal. But nothing had changed. I still had no choice. I pursed my lips, and nodded, and walked to the bathroom, feeling almost dizzy. The ladies' bathroom was small and elegant, all grey tiles and steel. There was no sink; instead the water ran constantly in streams down the mirror and over a gently curved steel plate. It was the most beautiful bathroom I'd ever been in, but I hardly saw it. I went into one of the two cubicles, locked the door behind me, and sat down on the toilet. I closed my eyes and hugged my knees tight to my chest. There was nothing I wanted more than to just stay there forever. After a moment I slipped my trainers off my feet, and tugged my panties down and off, and put my shoes back on. I washed my face with cold water, dried myself with a paper towel, and walked slowly back to our table, my panties rolled up and concealed inside my hand. It felt really strange to be in public with no knickers on; I felt vulnerable and exposed. Miss Lessard was sipping at her coffee when I got back, and my hot chocolate, laden with whipped cream and marshmallows, was waiting for me. There was a plate of cakes, too. She smiled briefly at me, and watched as I sat down. I stretched my hand out, my fist bunched around my panties, and she enclosed it in both of her hands, squeezing for a second. I loosened my grip, and she took the panties and put them neatly away in her fashionable leather handbag without even glancing at them. Then, however, eyes locked to mine, she very slowly and deliberately raised her hand to her nose, and inhaled, and smiled. I swallowed involuntarily. The hot chocolate was delicious, warm and rich, not too sweet. The cakes seemed nice too, but my stomach felt so odd I could only eat a bite or too. Miss Lessard told me it was okay, and that I should just eat as much as I wanted. She had carefully cut off half of one of the smaller cakes, and transferred it to her plate, and ate it slowly and neatly. When she'd finished, she wiped her mouth with one of the linen napkins they'd given us. She gestured to one of the blonde, accented waitresses, and paid the bill, which came to rather more than one of the rare dinners out my sister and I had. `Time to do a little shopping', she said, and we left. This time we walked more slowly, so she could look into the occasional window, always choosing the most expensive shops. We even popped into some kind of speciality bookshop, where she browsed for a few minutes amongst books written in German. I was barely conscious of where we were. All I could think of was how exposed I felt, how naked I was under that school skirt. After the bookshop we walked a little further, until we came to a lingerie shop. It certainly wasn't a sex shop, but it wasn't a Sock Shop, either. It was one of those little shops that sprung up in the late 90's, designed entirely for women. Expensive, sexy underwear and nightwear, and the occasional sex-toy discreetly tucked away here and there. Miss Lessard, to my slight surprise, ignored those completely, in favour of the lingerie. She must have somehow managed to see the size on my panties before she put them into her bag, because she knew that, but she asked me my bra and cup sizes. She perused the choices for a while, glancing at me occasionally in an appraising way, and selected some items and paid for them with a credit card. I didn't see them properly; at least one item was red, and another was black and shiny, but that was all I knew. I had sort of been expecting her to get me to change into new panties then and there, but we just left, and headed towards the carpark. There was a fair crowd of people waiting for the lifts when we got there, but there were a lot of lifts, so we let them get on the first one, and waited for another. When it got there a few moments later it was just us and a young-ish boy who got on. He looked to be perhaps twelve or thirteen, short hair, jeans, a hooded top. The doors closed, and as soon as they did, Miss Lessard moved. She was standing slightly behind and to the side of me; now, eyes fixed upon the boy, she placed her hands on my skirt and moved it upwards, giving him a perfect view of my legs, and, finally, my bush. I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. I had started violently when she touched me, and I'd had to fight the urge to slap her hands away, but I knew I couldn't. I just stood there, blushing, looking at the wall, with this kid staring at my pussy, his tongue actually sticking out of his open mouth. Just as the red digits on the floor indicator changed to show we were at the car park, Miss Lessard released her grip and smoothed my skirt down. The doors opened, and without looking at the boy again she took my hand, and started to lead me towards the car. I looked back over my shoulder, and saw him standing there still, mouth open, even as the doors closed and the lift started to ascend again. We sat in the car for a moment. Miss Lessard reached out a hand, and gently stroked my hair. `You're doing very well, Kate', she said. Her voice was gentle, but for some reason I suddenly felt like crying. I managed to stop myself, but not without a couple of muffled sobs. Miss Lessard just sat there patiently while I fought to control myself, and then produced a tissue from her bag and carefully wiped my face with it. I suppose I must have been crying a little bit despite all my efforts. She didn't say anything else, she just started the car. I felt tired, and my eyes drifted closed a couple of times as we drove. It was getting dark now, and all the cars had their lights on. We were driving for maybe twenty minutes. I didn't really recognize the area we finally stopped in, but I think it must have been somewhere near the canal. We parked on a sloping street lined with fairly large, fully detached houses, each isolated from its neighbours and from the road by a big garden. A lot of the houses looked a bit run down though, and some of them were boarded up and seemed completely abandoned. The one we parked outside seemed a bit neater than the others, but not much; it needed a new coat of paint, and the garden gate was slightly crooked on its hinges. I followed Miss Lessard up the path. She unlocked the door, and punched some numbers into a keypad to turn the alarm off. I stepped inside, and she closed the door behind me, before pressing something which clearly controlled all the lighting. Soft lights came on in the little hall that we were standing in, and in the rooms visible through open doors to either side. The one on the left looked like a combination of a library and an office, crammed bookshelves lining the walls, and a big desk at either end of the room, both with a phone and a computer. The room on the right was a kitchen-cum-dining room, very modern and handsome, with every utensil and appliance you could ever want or need, but it looked almost unused. We went in there, and sat down at the big pine dinner table. `Is this your house?' I knew I probably sounded stupid, but I just wanted to finally say something without being prompted. `One of them. This place is good for when I want a bit of peace and quiet. It's very . isolated, I think you could say'. There wasn't much I could think of to say to that, so again we just sat there in silence for a little while, until she stood up. `I think it's time for the real fun and games to begin. Take off your blazer, and your shoes, and then come upstairs with me'. I hung my school blazer carefully on the back of the chair, and then I followed her along the hall, leaving my shoes there on the way. We went up the stairs at the back. I could feel my heart beating, it was like I could almost hear it. We emerged into darkness, but lights came on automatically, probably triggered by some sensor at the top of the stairs. We were in a huge space. All of the interior walls and even the ceiling had been ripped out, so the space was only broken by the occasional pillar or rafter. The entire floor was covered in large black latex tiles, slightly shiny in the light, and there seemed to be a lot of hooks and chains and things dangling from the beams. The three things that I mostly noticed though was the rack of whips and canes, the bed, and the chair. The bed was huge, at least half again the size of a normal king-size, and covered in black latex. Even the duvet seemed to be enclosed in a rubber sheet. The chair was over to one side. It too was black, with some shiny steel. It looked like a dentist's chair, except it seemed to have a lot of manacles and cuffs built into it. Miss Lessard moved very close to me, and cupped my face in both hands. `This is where it all starts, Kate. From now on, I want you to refer to me only as Mistress, or as Mistress Amy. From now till when we return to your house on Sunday you must ask my permission for absolutely everything. If you want to use the toilet, if you want to ask a question, even if you want to scream. Anything. Do you understand?' `Yes', I said quietly, and just in time I remembered to add, `Mistress'. Everything seemed almost dream-like at this point. She nodded curtly. `Good. Now, kneel down.' I knelt, and she walked round me slowly. I had to make an effort to stay still, to stop myself from turning my head to follow her movements. She paused behind me for a long moment, and I felt my shoulders tense up with apprehension. She touched me, and I jolted, but she simply stroked my cheek. She removed her hand, and I heard her walk away and then return, her footsteps very quiet on the rubber floor. She stood behind me again, but now she placed a soft, thick velvet blindfold around my head, tying it tightly at the back. I could see nothing, and for a moment there was no sound either. There was a smell of expensive perfume, and of my own sweat, and the strange feel of the rubber on my bare shins, and that was it. Then I heard her starting to walk around me again. She made some kind of sudden move, and without thinking I raised my hands protectively from my sides. There was a moment of silence again, and then I heard the noise of her hand moving through the air, just before it hit me on the cheek. Not too hard, but the sting and the shock made me cry out, and I was sure for a moment that I was going to start crying. Then I felt her hand stroking my hair softly. `It's okay, It's alright', she was saying. I knew it was stupid, but I felt better, felt myself relax a little. She told me to move onto all fours, and supported me with one hand as I did so. Then she showed me with her hand how to arch my back, so that my bottom stuck up further into the air. Again I heard her walk slowly around me, examining me. She walked away, and returned a minute later. Again I heard the noise of the strike before I felt it, but this time it was a stick of some kind, hard and flat, maybe a ruler, and she hit me on the bottom, through my skirt. A jolt ran through me, and I almost collapsed, but had enough sense to force myself back into the same position, bottom sticking out. She hit me a second time, hard, and this time I cried out. The first one had mostly just stung; this one felt almost like fire. It was agony. Now she pulled my skirt up to expose my reddened cheeks, and dragged a finger nail along one of the fresh welts, causing me to breathe sharply though my teeth. She tapped the inside of my thighs with the ruler, telling me to part my legs further. I obeyed, knowing that my cunt was now completely exposed to her gaze. I heard the ruler whistle through the air, and braced myself for a strike which, in the end, never came; she stopped short of my skin, instead choosing to tap me lightly right between the legs with the flat of the ruler, causing a shiver to run through my body. The ruler was taken away, and now I felt her fingertips grazing down the side of my left leg, and then tracing back up along the inside of my thigh, slowly, softly. My skin tingled in a path where she had touched me. Her fingers reached my bush, and now she gently cupped me in her hand, fingers curved between my legs. A little more pressure, so I could feel the palm of her hand pressed against my lips. It was the first time anyone had touched me there. Her hand felt soft and warm. Now she started to trace a single fingertip over my opening, a slow stroking motion, and I felt the same tingling feeling , but much stronger. After exploring my entrance with the very tip of my finger for what seemed like forever, I heard her moving round me, till I could feel her standing in front of me. She cupped my chin with a hand, and pulled my face up till, if it hadn't been for the blindfold, I would have been looking at her. She dragged her finger tip along my top lip, under my nose. It felt a little bit moist, and immediately I could smell my own scent, strong and heavy. She pushed her finger into my mouth, and told me to suck it. As I obeyed, she asked if I could taste myself, and I managed to nod slightly. She withdrew the finger, and slowly walked around me again. My arms were beginning to feel sore from supporting myself in that position, and the muscles in my legs felt cramped. Now I felt her finger at the base of my spine, leaving a trail of my own saliva as she dragged it slowly down, pulling it into the curve between my cheeks, and down till she found the little pucker of my asshole. She spiraled her damp finger round and round it, a feather touch, forcing me to breath out hard through my teeth, and then let her finger tip rest right on my opening for a long second. Very gradually she started to apply more pressure, till I could feel her finger pushing against me; she told me to relax, and then, without any more warning, she forced her finger inside. I grunted with the shock of the invasion, but it wasn't really painful, more just full-feeling. She left her finger inside me for a moment, and then tugged it out, and walked round me again. This time I could hear and feel her kneeling down so she was on the same level as me as she waved the finger in front of my nose. `Can you smell yourself, Kate?' I nodded. `Good. Now, open wide'. I obeyed, the stale smell of my asshole strong in my nostrils, and she slid her finger into my mouth and told me to clean it well. I sucked, and licked it with my tongue, tasting traces of my own waste, wanting to gag. She pulled her finger out, and I think she must have been inspecting it to see I I'd cleaned it well enough. She patted me on the head, and told me that I was a good girl. She stood up, walked away, and then returned. I felt something cold and smooth around my neck, encircling me, puling tight around my throat. I panicked, jerking back, and the pressure stopped. `It's okay, it's okay, it's just a collar. I'm not going to hurt you'. She stooped and stroked my hair gently. `Did I scare you? I'm sorry'. I felt the collar touch my skin again, but more carefully this time, slowly tightening till I could feel it flush against my neck the whole way round, but not so tight that it really felt constrictive. `You look so beautiful this way', she said, and I couldn't help but feel pleased at the compliment. `Now, we're going to practice walking around a little bit. Stay on all-fours, please.' I heard the rattle of a chain, and then felt a jerk on the collar, pulling me forward. I tried to follow, feeling off-balance and vulnerable. We went slowly round the room twice. She guided me with tugs on the collar, and kept telling me how well I was doing, what a good girl I was, how pleased she was with me. These things actually made me feel sort of happy in a strange way, happy that I was pleasing her, and some part of my mind noticed this and worried about it. Mostly, though, I was just concentrating on moving, which was amazingly hard. By the second circuit, though, I was beginning to get the hang of it, starting to get a kind of rythm going, my hips swaying from side to side to help my balance. We stopped, and she told me to kneel. I heard a click as she fastened the chain leash to something. `You did very well. As a reward, you can sit however you like, and you can stretch if you want. I'm sure your legs are sore. Sit quietly, and wait for me.' I heard her moving away, and after a moment I sat down and stretched my legs out. Exploring the air around me cautiously with my hands, I found that I was next to one of the metal pillars, fastened to it by the collar. I felt my collar with my fingers. It was leather, quite thick, with little metal studs, and it seemed to lock shut; I found a little opening for a key. After that I just leant against the pillar, eyes shut under the blindfold, hands resting on the rubber floor. I tried to relax, but my ears were straining for any sound. The room was totally quiet, though once I heard a car go past outside. After what seemed like ages I heard her steps, soft on the rubber tiles. She helped my stand, and unclipped the leash from my collar, before leading me away from the pillar for a few steps. She moved away from me, leaving me standing there. `Strip.' I obeyed. Socks first, then my blouse, fumbling with the buttons. I was getting more used to the blindfold now, but it still made me clumsy. The blouse joined the socks on the floor, and, after only the briefest hesitation, I unhooked my bra and let it fall, before tugging my skirt down and stepping out of it. I stood there in the quiet room, naked but for the collar and blindfold. She moved towards me, and taking my hand, guided me to the bed, and told me to sit. The rubber sheeting clung to my bare legs. `Play with yourself'. I didn't move, and her voice hardened. `I said touch yourself, girl. Now.' I bit my bottom lip, and then spread my legs, and slipped my hand in between my thighs, and started to softly stroke myself with the palm of my hand. I could feel moisture on the hair covering my mound. Some of it was probably just sweat, and I suppose some of it probably wasn't. I curled my fingers into myself, pressing my fingertips gently against my opening. Without really thinking about it, I had reached up with my other hands to touch my nipples. I started to slowly probe with my fingertips down below until I found my bud, and let my fingers roll over it. I had been masturbating for a couple of years. Not often, maybe once a week. If I'd had a bad day, or I couldn't sleep, or if I read something that turned me on, I would dim the lights and turn the music up and touch myself. I'd never really thought about it much. I'd certainly never thought that I might end up doing it in front of another person. I moved my fingers over myself slowly, deliberately, and then widened my legs a little, and shifted my weight, and let a finger slip inside me. I held it there for a second, feeling my pussy tighten around it, and then started to slide it in and out, before adding another finger. My breathing was getting heavier now. I pinched my left nipple hard with my other hand as I started to pump my fingers at a faster pace. `Stop'. She moved towards me, taking my hand in hers. I could hear and feel her kneeling in front of where I sat at the edge of the bed, and then I felt her slide my fingers into her mouth. She sucked hard, running her tongue over them. `You taste lovely, Kate'. And now I felt her breath between my legs, and then her mouth on my skin, kissing my legs, kissing everywhere. Her tongue flickering over me, exploring, finding my bud. I couldn't stop myself from moaning softly. The feeling was like nothing I had ever experienced. It was like that first satisfying scratch of an itch, or that tingle you get if you drag a fingernail over a recently healed cut, but a thousand times stronger, and it sent ripples of heat all through me. Her tongue was inside me now, pushing softly, probing. I shifted my position slightly, opening my legs even wider, feeling the rubber sticking to my clammy skin, and then I came. I remember screaming, noise erupting from me, my thighs clamping around her head for a second, before I collapsed back on the bed, drained. She moved away somewhere, and I could hear water running. I just lay there in the velvet darkness of the blindfold, unable to form a coherent thought. I heard her return, felt her sit down next to me. She helped me sit up, and undid the blindfold, and held me as I blinked in the sudden light. I realized that I was crying. We sat like that for a while, her arm around me, my body leaning on hers, quiet. She handed me a glass of water, and I drank it slowly. When I had finished, she stood up. `I want you to have a little rest now. I'm going to go downstairs, I have some things I need to prepare. I'll come back in a little bit and we'll have some more fun.' She patted my cheek, and smiled at me, and walked off, leaving me naked except for my collar, alone in that big quiet room.