9 comments/ 35255 views/ 16 favorites Clara's Country Kitchen By: eclare This is a copyrighted original work of fiction. All rights reserved. All characters featured herein are at least eighteen years of age, even if not expressly stated. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. Song lyrics contained herein remain the original artist's property. * The drive back from Owen Sound is tough at the best of times. In February, during a snowstorm it can be downright brutal. I had to go up there to update some software. I did it, but then I needed to get back to Toronto. I had to be back the next day. It didn't quite work out that way. It was a blizzard. As bad as it gets. Ten inches had already fallen on top of whatever had accumulated during the winter. The windshield wipers didn't help much. The snow just kept on piling up. Visibility was poor. The slippery drive was very slow. But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood The Animals played through the car radio. There was nowhere to stop. I needed to eat and I needed to find a place to park my sorry ass for the night. I'd only had coffee and an apple fritter from Tim Horton's that morning. It was four o'clock now. With this snow there was no way I was going to make it back to T.O. that night. Not a chance. I knew there was a motel just outside of Carlisle. Hopefully they'd have a room. But I had to eat first. But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood Clara's Country Kitchen. I could barely make out the red neon sign "Open". Perfect. I stopped on the slippery highway then backed up the thirty feet to the driveway. I'd driven past Clara's before, but never stopped there. It's in the middle of nowhere. I'd forgotten that it was even there. Clara's was a fairly large building with just a little restaurant. There was certainly enough parking to qualify the place as a truck stop. Shaking snow off myself as I entered, my first impression was 'wow' -- white table cloths, silverware. Expensive. It didn't matter I needed to eat. I made my way to a small table and sat down. A pretty young lady with short bright orange hair and a nametag "Hannah" approached with a menu and a smile on her face. "It the kitchen open?" I asked. "Yes," she replied with a smile. I was the only guest. Perhaps I caught them in between shift changes. They weren't quite caught up for dinner. Or so it seemed. Plus, with the blizzard happening, I guess they wondered if they should be open at all. Except for my empty belly screaming at me, I wondered that too. "Can I get you something to drink?" she asked. "I warm cup of tea would be lovely," I answered, "with just a little milk." She smiled and went off to the kitchen. The menu was simple, yet a little odd and a bit pretentious for a truck-stop. Nowhere on the menu were the usual burgers and fries, club-house sandwiches, all-day breakfasts with three eggs any style. Not the usual trash at all. In fact I didn't see French fries anywhere on the menu. Instead there was pork schnitzel with rosti potatoes, grilled strip loin steak with wild mushrooms, pan fried rainbow trout with sautéed mini-potatoes or wild rice, a chicken curry with spiced lentils and saffron rice, veal scaloppini with an orange pistachio cream sauce and sautéed potatoes. My mind was reeling. My stomach was screaming. On a chalkboard written with nice cursive writing was Soup of the Day Mulligatawny and Today's Special Clara's Meatloaf with Wilde Mushroom Gravy and Mashed Potato, Fresh Vegetables. I went for today's special. I hoped it was today's and not yesterday's. I figured that would be the quickest. I'd never had meatloaf, wild mushroom gravy and smashed potatoes (with horseradish and garlic) and fresh green beans on the side - so...frikkin' good...in my entire life! Simply awesome. Even my dear mother couldn't cook that well. I also had a small Boston lettuce salad with thinly sliced shallot and a tangy vinaigrette dressing. Absolutely outstanding! The only thing that spoiled the meal was the occasional glance I would make to watch the weather outside. The blizzard was not letting up. I hadn't seen or heard a snowplow go by. As I finished the meal, a middle aged woman with "Clara" on her nametag came sauntering over. "Was everything okay?" she asked with a little trepidation. "Absolutely amazing," I answered finishing off my tea. "Were you planning to go back out in the snow?" This time she had a genuine look of concern on her face. "I've got to get to the motel just outside of Carlisle, if they have room. Otherwise, it looks like I'm stuck." We both looked outside. In the time that I was at the restaurant it had easily piled up four inches of snow on my car. And that was over top the ten that had already fallen. It was looking very dubious if I could make it to the motel at all. "Maybe I can sleep on your floor?" I asked, regretting what the possible answer may be. "You could," she answered, "but you would probably be more comfortable in a bed." Whew. Clara was Filipino? Thai? Indonesian? She had a Germanic accent though. Austrian? Who knows? Plus the name Clara hardly seemed Oriental. She was maybe about fifty? Short, a little stout, huge knockers though. Clara wasn't gorgeous pretty, but certainly not ugly. She had a soft cuddly feline aura to her. She wore her black hair in a bun, had brown eyes that sparkled with intelligence and full lips that seemingly betrayed every emotion. She was dressed in a plain white shirt with collar, an embroidered gold vest, plain black pants and black shoes with just a little hint of a heel. Her image, her voice and the reality of the situation -- none of it synched up. She seemed a bit out of place, too exotic and a bit of an enigma for just outside of no-where's-ville Ontario. She and the establishment were all very strange, yet somehow, very alluring. Puzzled, I asked, "Do you have rooms that you rent out?" I didn't see a check-in counter or a sign to that effect. Clara's Country Kitchen doesn't even imply bed and breakfast. I didn't want to impose on her. "We have four," she said as she turned and walked away from me, "and they're all empty tonight." I looked around at the place. Like the food everything was first rate, neat and tidy. I decided that I'd stay the night. Hopefully the snow will let up enough and the roads get plowed so that I could make it to my nephew's twenty first birthday luncheon tomorrow. "How about a drink? she asked as she returned with two brandy snifters and a bottle in the other hand, "it doesn't look like you're going anywhere. Mind if I sit down?" "Please do." I held out my hand as I tried to stand-up to my feet, "I'm Mike Webb." She put the bottle on the table and shook my hand. "Pleased to meet you Michael," she said calmly, "I'm Clara." "And I'm so pleased, and clearly very lucky to have come here and to have met you. Thank you so much for your offer to let me stay the night. And I have to tell you this Clara. That was the best damn meatloaf I ever had in my life. And I am a big fan of meatloaf. That dinner wasn't just a nice dinner, it was artistry. I'm totally blown away by your cooking and the presentation and everything." She smiled at me, "Interesting choice of words, but thank you. It's certainly nice to be reassured that my work is appreciated." "Would you care for some dessert? We have homemade ice cream. Ripple." I glanced outside at the snow blowing at an angle. "No, nothing more to eat. Thank you so much for offering." "Brandy?" she asked. "Only if I'm buying," I answered with a smile. Her eyes twinkled as she poured two generous snifters. Hannah came by to clear off the table. I thanked Hannah too. I think Clara caught me checking out Hannah's cute little body. I could feel myself blush. Clara handed me one of the snifters and stared in my eye. "Cheers," she said. "Cheers," hoping my blush was receding. "Tell me about yourself Michael," she asked sipping her brandy. "What brings you by Clara's on a Wednesday night in February?" Was she genuinely interested, just being nosy, or just making small talk? "I'm an IT guy that looks after some of the coast guard and port authority's data and communication systems. One of the broadcast stations is in Owen Sound." "Sounds very sophisticated." "It's not really." I wondered where she was going with this. "Do you come by here often?" she asked with a bit of a suspicious look on her face. "Half a dozen, maybe seven or eight times a year." "Have you stopped here before?" "No, but I sure will next time. I had no idea the food was so good." I felt on firmer ground now. I explained to her that I normally drive to Owen Sound and back to my apartment in Toronto in one long day. Usually I don't get back home until well after midnight. Today I left early because of the snow. "Are you married, got kids?" she asked. Oh boy. "Separated. Two girls, both at university, but they still come back home to their mom." What is this an inquisition? I sipped my brandy and studied Clara for a moment. "I'm sorry to hear you are separated" she said, but her eyes didn't match the words. "I'm not," I answered, "not anymore. Are you married Clara?" Right back at her. Clara blushed a little at my intrusion into her private life but answered in a steady tone, "No, I never married." She just looked me straight in the eye. Hoping to steer the conversation away I asked, "I didn't see a sign for rooms, have I just missed it all this time?" "No, we don't advertize, there's no need to." "So it's not like a legal business?" as soon as I said it, I wished I hadn't. Clara stared at me for my affront for a moment, then said carefully, "Clara's Country Kitchen is a legitimate business, we file taxes and I pay my employees decent wages with all the appropriate deductions. It's just that our guests rooms, and there are only four, which are modest, comfortable and each with its own private bathroom are generally booked well in advance. There's no need to advertize. Tonight is a rare exception. The blizzard has kept everyone with any sense, off the road." Pow. Nice little slab in the neck. Trying to recover I smiled at Clara and said, "I guess it's just my good fortune then that I stumbled across your fine establishment. In spite of my lack of good sense." She smiled and excused herself from the table for a moment, then walked into the kitchen. As I sipped my brandy I realized that I should have known better. I didn't have an overnight bag, no clean underwear, no toothbrush, nothing. I know to have the bare necessities in my carry-on bag when I travel by air, just in case. How could I be so stupid and not keep something permanently packed in the car for moments just like this? She smiled at me as she walked back to my table, picking up the bottle as she sat down again, "would you care for another brandy Michael?" "As long as I'm paying you can keep pouring Clara." She broke out into a wide grin as she poured two large snifters. She glanced to the floor next to me, "Is that your overnight bag?" "No, it's my laptop. I don't have an overnight bag." Without skipping a beat she said, "Not to worry, we'll get you all sorted out." "Thank you. How much are the rooms?" I asked, I thought innocently. Clara paused and studied me for a moment while holding her snifter in her hand. In a very measured tone she answered, "Normally they are quite expensive, but you aren't a regular guest and this isn't a normal circumstance. I'll charge you much less." "No Clara I'll pay the regular rate." She paused for a moment contemplating her words, "The rate usually includes dinner, breakfast, the room and a variety of other services." With a hand I dismissed what she was saying, "I'll take it all and have, I'm certain, an excellent breakfast in the morning. I'll pay the full rate Clara. How much is it?" So, what? I just agreed to internet service, cable TV, maybe porno films. I didn't care. I was grateful do be at Clara's and not freezing or dead outside. "With dinner and breakfast, the room and everything else, it usually works out to anywhere from six to eight hundred dollars. Taxes included." What? I saw where this was going. "Per night?" I was glaring at her incredulously. "Yes. Per person, per night." "How about if I just sleep on the floor Clara?" It was either that or I'd just pay my bill and get out in spite of the blizzard. "We don't have to charge you the full rate Michael. I'm sorry if I've startled you. You did ask. You insisted." I could feel my face flushed with anger. Anger for putting myself in a position where I could be so easily taken advantage of. She was right about sensible people being off the road tonight. I took a deep breath. "How can you justify eight hundred dollars per night, for a room in the middle of nowhere? Yes, the food is great, but eight hundred bucks appears to be a little steep." As soon as I said that I recalled that she said the rooms are generally full and booked in advance. That was obviously bullshit. It's eight hundred dollars when you're the only guy stuck in the road. What is this place, Bate's Motel? I could envision Clara coming at me with a kitchen knife as I stood behind a dingy shower curtain. Vrreeek vrreeek vrreeek. As I stared at her in disbelief and clearly still angered I realized that not a single car had come by. It was dark outside and the snow was squalling. "Michael," she said in a very low voice while staring me in the eyes, "I'm in the hospitality business. I'm not here to take advantage of you and I will not." She paused to gauge my reaction. I think I may have softened a little. She continued, "We offer an old world style accommodation. Good food, comfort and rest for our guests. All of my clientele, with the rarest of exceptions, are recommended before they set foot in one of the rooms. The restaurant of course is open to everyone." Bingo. It's a frikkin' whorehouse. "What exactly does old world style mean?" I asked nonchalantly. Clearly not free cable and internet. Clara had an eyebrow lifted and a bit of a smirk to her as she answered, "For millennia, across virtually every culture, travelers, usually men, could find an inn to rest, to replenish themselves and be comforted. We simply carry on the old world traditions." I wondered what old world she was referring to, Asian or German. "So you have a little brothel thing happening here?" I asked with a bit of apprehension, hoping to break the ice. With a steely eye on me, she answered, "No. We most certainly do not. That would be quite vulgar and illegal." I didn't answer her. I didn't know what to say. What was she on about then? "Our guests are our friends. Yes they pay for room and board. We know how to comfort our friends. There are no girls on display. This is not a chicken ranch. There is not a menu of services offered." I sipped my brandy and put the glass down. "How do you know how to comfort your new friends then?" She broke out into a wide grin, her brown eyes were sparkling. "We talk to them." She stood up and pulled at my elbow. "Come, let me show you around." With brandy snifters in our hands we walked off towards the kitchen. I had to admit, everything I saw was quite nice. Clean. Understated, yet elegant. I did the math in my head. If what she was saying was true four rooms times eight bills per room, that could work out to over a mil, just on the 'comfort'. Plus, she had the restaurant. The kitchen was nice, clean. All stainless steel. There was a young man in it, perhaps in his mid-twenties, peeling potatoes. "Michael," this is David, tonight's chef. I held out my hand to him. He cleaned off one hand on a towel and reached for mine standing up. "The meatloaf was outstanding." "Thank you Sir." he said with a broad grin. She led me out through another door and into a hallway. We climbed a narrow set of carpeted stairs. I noticed there were sprinklers, Exit lights. This really was a little business. She opened the door to a bedroom. "This will be your room tonight." It was smallish, I think a double bed, nicely decorated, blue, with maybe a little too much feminine touch. But okay. "The bathroom is through here." Nice, clean, bright. Vanity, toilet and a sturdy shower unit. Fluffy towels. She took an obvious glance at my ass. "I'll have a new pack of underwear and a t-shirt for you for the morning together with a toothbrush, toothpaste and comb. There's shampoo and soap in the shower. I'll have slippers and a housecoat for you later tonight. Is there anything else you will need?" "No. no. Clara, this is great. Do I have to go to bed now?" "Don't be silly Michael. Although you can if you wish. The restaurant doesn't close until nine, but I really don't expect anyone else to come tonight. Not with this weather. Come on back downstairs. She led me to what appeared to be a living room that had a fire roaring in the fireplace. It was through a door off the dining room. I'd not noticed it before. Hannah was in the room, with that cute little body, ironing white napkins. I wondered if she was going to play into the whole comfort thing. Actually, I was hoping she was going to play a central role. She was a hot little thing. "Have a seat Michael," Clara motioned me to a leather couch in front of the fire, saying, "see we don't bite." Hannah burst out laughing. Clara swung around to gaze at Hannah then said to me in a manner that was clearly directed at Hannah, "Well maybe she does." Hannah burst out laughing again. I didn't get it. What? Bates Motel is populated by vampires? "Let me tell you a bit about ourselves. Oh, I'm sorry would you like another brandy or something else instead?" "I'm done with brandy, thanks Clara. But maybe a beer, do you have a Heineken or something light like that?" "Hannah honey, would you mind getting Michael a Heineken and could you please pour me a Perrier?" Hannah parked the iron and without a word disappeared through the door. "Clara's Country Kitchen is one of many privately owned and run establishments found, or rather hidden, throughout North America and indeed, throughout the world. We have a loose network, affiliations really. Circles within circles. Clearly we can't have a public association. Nevertheless we are a cohesive community. It is our clients, our friends that hold us together." She stared at me for a moment, then continued, "Michael I wouldn't be saying any of this to you if I didn't trust you." She put her hand on mine and gave it a light squeeze. "As I said earlier, it's very unusual to bring someone -- into our confidence -- that doesn't come with a prior recommendation." I was all ears. "By far the most establishments within our community are larger, are located in more populated centres and many cater to clientele that prefer a more focused comfort." Hannah approached with a tray and two full glasses. She was lovely, in her early twenties, perfect complexion with just a few freckles on a cute little face. She had perfect white teeth glistening behind luscious full lips. Her frame was small with little titties. I could just make out a hint of nipple through the white shirt just below her name tag. A short black skirt and black hose hid her cute little butt and shapely legs. Her shoes were flat. It was her smile and twinkling green eyes that could make any man's heart melt. Hannah had this youthful, joyous glow about her. She was full of life, full of energy and that bright orange hair instilled a little freaky, rebellious aura about her. Without a word Hannah placed the drinks on the coffee table before Clara and me, then picked up the two empty brandy snifters, turned and walked away. When I regained my senses I turned back to Clara who was grinning at me. Clara's Country Kitchen "You see how this conversation starts?" I blushed. Was I that obvious? I sipped at my beer blinking. "Hannah. Mr. Webb's laptop is still under his dining table. Could you please see that it makes it into the Blue Room?" "As I was saying," she continued, "many establishments cater to certain preferences. In today's world where things tend to get slotted into neat compartments, they all seem to fall into a category that, and I hate to use the term, are called fetishes. There are inns that cater to those that enjoy a little leather in their comfort zone, or where boots or shoes are a central theme. I think you get my point." I sipped my beer blinking again. "We are not like that, although we do specialize in a fashion." I could feel my spine straighten out. What kind of kink is Bates Motel into? She studied me for a moment. "We are a training house." I think my jaw dropped. "Not the way you think of it. I'm afraid you may have been on the internet a little too much Michael." She was studying me intently. "Girls and lads are sent to me, to be trained in the hospitality business. They go from here to specialize in whatever arts they decide. Here they learn the fundamentals." My mind was reeling. Was Clara a dominatrix? "Michael, do you know what the fundamentals are?" She caught me off guard. I was thinking of leather clad babes sucking huge cocks. Hannah wearing massive vinyl boots nudging my cock with the tip of the boot, or chasing me through the restaurant with a strap-on flopping between her thighs. "W-what?" "The fundamentals are cooking and keeping the books." "Oh, of course." I was trying to regain my composure. "Seriously Michael. Our business is like a three legged stool. Food, rest, comfort. If one leg fails, everything comes tumbling down. Hannah and David and a few that are not here right now have been sent to me, because I am able to instill in them a proper sense of propriety. A professionalism as it were. From here they will move on, perhaps specialize in one thing or the other, perhaps get their own place one day, or move out into the mainstream world. David could certainly do that, he has a real talent as a chef -- I've given him the go ahead to feature his own dish next week. It's up to them. All I can do is extend to them my experience, encouragement and hope for the best." I'm pretty sure I was staring at Clara. "Michael. I teach them to cook, they learn food presentation, how to pour a perfect martini. I teach them how to clean, how to run an inn and how to keep the books. The sex is all secondary at Clara's. Are you following me? This is not all straight forward. You have to work with me. Hannah and David are very inexperienced." I blinked a few times trying to take it all in. "So there's no sex?" "Of course there's sex." She paused for a moment watching my reaction. "Michael, you did say to me that you wanted the full service. Have I made a mistake in interpreting your statement?" "No," I answered, still a little shocked at what was transpiring. "Can I rely on your absolute discretion?" "Absolutely." She grinned broadly and her eyes twinkled, "You just have to be understanding. As I said, this isn't as straight forward as one might expect. You and I will be the only adults in the room. Are you following me?" I grinned, "Of course I am. After all, what are friends for?" She gave me a massive smile and a tight hug. "Thanks Mike. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that you will be a friend." "Clara, what exactly do you expect of me?" "Well Michael, being an unknown, you are a unique situation. You will be the lesson." I sipped my beer staring straight ahead. What the hell am I getting into? "Okay....." I said with some apprehension. "Tell me Michael, aside from an obvious interest in Hannah, which I cannot blame you for, is there anything that piques your interest?" I stared at her wide eyed I'm certain. What was I supposed to do, confess my wildest fantasies to a stranger? "Did you find David good looking too?" she asked with a lowered eyebrow and a bit of a grin. "I'm not gay or bisexual Clara, if that's what you're asking." "So you've never been with a man?" "No I haven't and I have no intention to either. Thank you." What kind of place is this? "How about light bondage?" she asked with a quirk to her lip and a glisten in her eye. I don't believe it. What kind of a freak house is this? "No Clara, I'm not into pain or whips and chains, leather frikkin' masks with a zipper for a mouth slot or ball gags. None of that stuff. That's all kooky shit. I'm sorry, it's not for me." "You're right it isn't for you, it's for the two trainees." "I'm sorry Clara," I said holding my hands out to the side, "I have no interest in causing anyone pain or receiving it. I don't want to explore the fine line between pain and pleasure." I was rolling my eyeballs around and cocking my head side to side. "To me it's simply not a turn on." As soon as I said that I had a vision of Hannah being strapped down naked, helpless. I shook my head. That would be rape. At least to a degree. Clara answered right back, "Did I say anything about pain?" I simply glared at Clara in disbelief. "Bondage could involve, as you called it, the exploration of pain and pleasure. But that's fairly extreme wouldn't you say." "Yes I would." "There's much more to it than pornography would imply." "What's it about then?" I really wasn't looking forward to her answer. She smiled at me with her brown eyes glistening. Clearly I caught her in her element. "On the surface it is of course about sex. About having or giving someone an intense orgasm." I just eyed her carefully. "On another level," she continued, "bondage is simply about transferring control to another person." She paused and studied my reaction. "What do you mean?" "One person is restrained, voluntarily. And the other controls their physical reaction to certain stimuli," she paused to continue to gauge my reaction, "of course the physical reaction is fully dependant on the mental reaction." "Okay..." I said carefully. "That desired reaction normally is an intense orgasm," she said in careful, measured words. She was staring at me like a hawk. "Does that seem overtly extreme?" "Not when you put it that way. No." I answered, still with a little nervousness in my voice, I'm sure. "Another desired result," she continued, "could be obtaining a positive response from the subject, from stimuli previously inexperienced." She continued to stare at me intently. I wasn't sure where she was going with all of this. I'm supposed to be the other adult in the room and help her with the two trainees? "And then on another level," she added, "bondage is about self discovery." Huh? Clearly I had a puzzled look on my face. She just gazed at me. She must have thought I was an idiot. "So you tie someone up and start whipping them and then you discover that you're a sadist?" She chuckled as her eyes opened wide, "That would be quite the self revelation." "Or you get tied up and someone starts beating you and you suddenly discover that you like it, hence you are a masochist?" She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Michael you're getting lost in stereotypes again. It's nothing like that." "What is it then?" "It's a journey." "To where?" "There is a road, it's no simple highway. Between the dawn of light and the darkness of your heart. And if you go down that road, no one may follow. That path is for your steps alone." "And you're going to lead me?" I asked not really understanding what she's talking about. She looked up at the ceiling above me, paused and said, "Those who choose to lead must follow," then returned her gaze to my eyes and added, "if I knew the way, I would take you home." This was all getting a little weird. "What do you say Michael, are you game?" I could see that Clara was a little apprehensive about this. She was watching me carefully, then added, "Do you want to help out?" I hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath and bravely answered, "Okay...but no pain...and no crazy shit." Clara beamed a huge radiating smile, she reached out and put her hand on mine. "No pain Michael and nothing crazy." "What do you want me to do?" "Go upstairs, relax, watch some TV if there's still reception, have a shower. I'll be up in a few minutes with a fresh bathrobe for you and a few other things. Then be back here at nine. Do you want another beer or anything else?" Something to snack on maybe?" "I'll have another Heineken," I said taking another deep breath. In for a penny, in for a pound. I wandered off upstairs to the Blue Room with a fresh glass of beer. Just as I managed to figure out how to work the TV, Clara tapped at the door. She had a clean, fluffy, big white bathrobe and a basket of toiletries. The six o'clock news just started -- news flash big blizzard. Duh. I turned the TV off. I wondered as I lay on the bed just what was expected of me. What kind of bondage nonsense was Clara planning? Am I going to be tied up or will it be Hannah or David. Surely it won't be Clara. I was hoping it would be Hannah. I could picture Clara prancing around like some sort of leather dominatrix with a whip in her hand in spite of her esoteric woo-woo spiel. Or maybe Hannah will be the dominatrix and I'll be bound? Or maybe I'll be the dungeon keeper and Hannah will be bound? Yeah, that must be it. I've got to be the adult. I had visions of Hannah naked with her arms pinned to a post above her, nipples exposed for my pleasure. Yeah, that was it. I fell asleep with a hard on. I woke up to the sound of someone tapping at my door. "Come on in," I said rubbing my eyes open. It was a twenty to nine. I needed to pee. It was David. He was dressed only in a white housecoat and slippers. He was carrying a couple of items. "Slippers for tonight, underwear and a t-shirt for tomorrow." "Thanks," I said sitting up in the bed. "Is there anything else you need?" he asked as he held the door open to go out. "Yeah. I'd just like to know what's going on?" "I don't know," he said kind of gazing into space, "nothing unusual I guess." He hesitated, then continued, "Clara's being a little weird though." No kidding. "The thing with Clara, and don't get me wrong, I really like working here for her, but it's that sometimes she can be a bit of a hard ass." Great. Just what I need. A hard ass dominatrix. "Well she needs to be if you are going to learn from her," I said. "No, I get that. And I'm okay with it. The thing is this. When Clara gets upset, she starts cleaning. That's why this place is spotless. Well anyway, me and Hannah were, well, we expected her to be in a foul mood." "Why?" "With the blizzard and the cancellations. Except for you, the restaurant was empty tonight. I mean, it's every restaurateur's worst nightmare. There's no money coming in and food that would have been eaten just lands up getting thrown away." "So she's upset?" "No. That's the point. She's baking cookies and humming to herself. We've never seen her so happy." I didn't quite know what to make of what he was saying. David continued, "I don't know what you said to her or what you talked about, but she's over the moon." Very strange I thought as David closed the door behind him. I was still in my clothes. My glass of beer was warm. I grabbed the bathrobe and headed to the washroom. As I dried myself off I discovered the slippers that David just delivered still had the little tags on them. Clara really does run a tight little ship here. I combed my hair and brushed my teeth. The basket had a fresh razor and a mini can of shaving cream. Aftershave too. After tightening the belt on the front of the bathrobe I picked up my warm beer and descended down the stairs. An image of Hugh Hefner walking around the Playboy Mansion in his housecoat while all his babes lounged around half naked danced through my head. Then I saw the snow outside through a window and reality set back in. I met Clara in the living room at exactly nine o'clock. She was dressed exactly as before. "Michael, you look relaxed. Did you have a nap?" She was smiling at me. "I actually did Clara. Thankfully David woke me up. A fantastic meal, a couple of brandies and a comfy bed is pretty well all it takes for me these days." "Good. Everything's ready. Are you?" "I'm afraid my beer is a bit warm." "Come along," Clara said as she stood up. I followed her to the bar where she poured the warm beer down the drain and poured me a snifter glass of Cointreau. "Orange liqueur," I said as I took a small sip, "very nice, thank you." "Mmm...come along Michael." She motioned me to follow her back into the living room. We passed straight through, entering a door that led to a hallway. "This is the oldest part of the building," she said as she opened yet another door. "I think it was a workshop once. Now it's our playroom." It was a room, perhaps thirty feet by thirty feet. The ceiling was fairly low, maybe seven foot high, with a slate floor. A fireplace dominated the wall to the right. It had a blazing fire going. The walls were a dark paneled wood. There didn't seem to be any windows. There were wall sconces around the perimeter that cast a light glow on the walls. Several lit candles were scattered about. The room was very warm. I could feel warmth through my slippers. On each side of the fireplace there was a brown leather wingback chair. In front of the fireplace, almost in the centre of the room was a table in matching brown leather. The table was the size of a large dining room table but it was a little higher off the ground. The top was perforated with upholstered openings every three or four inches. Near the far end of the table there was a molded upholstered opening which I guessed was to rest the head, or if facing down, as a massage table would permit the table's occupant to breathe comfortably. There was a slot about ten inches long near the center of the table. "I had it custom made, I am very happy with the way it turned out," She said as she walked up to the table. She flipped a pedal under the table and the entire top swiveled from horizontal to vertical. "That's cool." I said. I really was impressed with the little bit of engineering on display. "I'm glad you like it," she said nonchalantly, "because I'd like you to get on it." Oh. Clara watched me intently to gauge my reaction. Before I moved or did anything she said, "If it will make you more comfortable, I'll take my clothes off too, if you wish." I know I was grinning as I slipped the knot on the housecoat belt. "Sure." No way was I going to miss that. I watched Clara as she undid her hair bun. Her black hair fell to the center of her back as she shook her head from side to side. She silently disrobed. There was no fanfare, no strip tease, just the occasional coy smile as she pulled her clothes off and piled them ever so neatly on a side table. I gulped back the last of the Cointreau and put the glass down on a side table. As she pulled her bra off I came to realize just how massive her breasts were. I knew I could get lost snuggling between them. Although they sagged a little they were beyond beautiful. Her areola were large, dark. Her thick nipples where horizontal to the floor, each pointing out slightly. They reminded me of a pair of six-guns. I felt my cock twitch. I most definitely wanted to get shot with those beauties. I slipped my housecoat and slippers off. "Very nice Michael. You are a handsome man." She stepped up to me and gently wrapped her hand around Mr. Growing Enthusiasm, reached up and kissed me on the jaw. "You have a nice cock too," she whispered. "And you're a sexy little mink," I whispered back. I gazed at her shapely legs and ass as she reached inside a side table drawer. Wow. Her pussy wasn't trimmed. Wispy black hairs barely hid dark pussy lips that I could tell from a distance were soft. Certainly inviting. I wasn't on the table yet but I already felt vulnerable standing naked with my hard-on pointing straight out. Clara slotted two upholstered leather foot rests into the tabletop and adjusted the surface to give it a slight angle back from vertical. "Stand on this, facing me," she instructed. I got up onto the foot rests and leaned back. "That's it," she said smiling. I watched her boobs sway and her bum cheeks part as she attached padded Velcro straps around my ankles and wrists. Those were secured through the openings from behind the tabletop. She weaved wide padded ribbons through the table and around my chest just under my armpits. Additional straps were added above my knees and the top of my thighs. Each time she secured me down she would slip a finger through the ribbon and ask, "Is that too tight?" "No. I'm good," I answered each time. I was pinned to the table. My legs were together but my feet were shoulder width apart. My arms were straight off to the sides with my hands just dangling off the edge, just about level with my hips. I could rotate my wrists. My neck and head was free, but the rest of me was well and truly pinned to the table. Suddenly she flipped the table up to horizontal and I heard it click into place. I was staring at the ceiling. So was my erect cock. Clara climbed up onto the table and started kissing my neck and playfully scratching at my chest hairs. She kissed my arms while rubbing up and down the inside of my thighs. She gently sucked on each of my nipples. She moved up the table straddling me. Her pussy was just inches from my cock. Oh, how I wanted her to just sit down on it! She cupped my face with both of her hands and gently kissed me on the lips. Her lips were soft, warm. Her eyes were sparkling at me. I parted my lips slightly and she slipped her tongue into me. Our tongues flicked against each other as she pressed down with her lips. I could hear myself moan. Still cupping my face she whispered to me, "This is about control. It seems I'm missing a little self control right now." She kissed me again, and again. Rubbing my chest with her right hand she cooed softly, "You're such a sexy man." She nibbled on my neck. I wished she'd lose a little more self control and just sit on my cock. She slipped off the table and whispered in my ear, "Are you ready to start?" Start? I was damn near close to finishing! All I could do was nod. Clara flipped the table into the near upright position again. I could feel my weight slip back down slightly. I heard the click as the position was secured. She walked out of the room but immediately returned with David and Hannah in tow. Both were dressed in the same white bathrobe that I'd had on. Neither seemed particularly fazed at the fact that I was naked, bound on the table with my boner facing the fireplace. Nor did they seem particularly fazed with the fact that Clara was stark naked in front of them. Business as usual I guessed. David had the same slippers on that I'd been wearing but I could see that Hannah had orange stockings and black high heeled shoes on beneath the robe. Hannah's lips were glistening in the firelight -- bright orange to match her hair. Eye make-up was carefully applied, orangey highlights and thick black mascara. They stood in front of the fireplace facing me. Clara stood next to me, on my left side. "Hannah, David. Mr. Webb is a new guest. We really don't know too much about him, or his tastes, so we will have to proceed carefully and as we discussed earlier with caution. This is Mr. Webb's first venture into bondage, isn't that right Mr. Webb?" "Y..yes," I stammered unable to peel my eyes off of the sultry Hannah. Clara's Country Kitchen "David, you may begin." David kicked off his slippers and peeled off his bathrobe. He was naked. There was my first revelation on the road to self discovery. I was jealous. Was he ever built! He wasn't even hard. Lucky bastard. David stepped behind Hannah. She undid her bathrobe belt as David pulled the robe from her shoulders. My eyes bugged out. What a piece of girl candy stood in front of me. I could feel my eyes watering as I took in the vision. Dressed in only black high heeled shoes and orange stay-up stockings Hannah slowly pirouetted before me. She was completely shaven below. Pussy lips hung proudly from her. Her small breasts were capped with smallish areola and nipples painted in the same orange as her glistening lips. They appeared as candies waiting to be licked. Hannah's legs were slender yet shapely, her bum small, firm, tight. Her belly was flat. I could see that her arms were slender yet well toned. Graceful hands tapered to long fingernails painted a matching bright orange. I could feel my heart pounding and my cock throbbing as she flashed me a seductive smile. Pearly white teeth glistened through shimmering orange lipstick. She fluttered her black eyelashes over her bright green eyes. It was a damn good thing that I was restrained. I would have pounced on that lovely creature in a heartbeat. "Isn't she lovely?" Clara asked rhetorically. "Sh-she's beautiful," I barely managed to get out. I watched complexly transfixed as Hannah's right hand and orange fingernails slowly moved from between her breasts, down her flat belly, across her navel, lower, and lower until her long fingernails found her clit. I looked up to her eyes to discover she had been gazing at mine the whole time. Slowly two fingers rotated on her clitoris and her lips parted with a breathy "Ahhh." I could feel the strap across my chest tighten as my breath deepened. It felt very warm in the room again. Clara leaned into my left ear and said in a low voice, "Michael we mustn't lose control here." Lose control? I was going to lose my load if Hannah kept that up. Clara flipped the tabletop to horizontal again. I heard the click as I strained by neck up to keep staring at Hannah. "Hannah, please come and get up onto the table with Mr. Webb." Yes! She's going to fuck me. Yes. Yes. Yes. Please Clara make it happen. Make it happen now. Hannah climbed up onto the table .She straddled me on her hands and knees without touching me, looking straight down from above. I could smell her. She smelled of sweet orange. Her eyes glistened as she bit her lower lip. My hips were straining against the straps. I needed to her to put my cock into her pussy which was just inches away. "Hannah would you please kiss Mr. Webb." She lowered her mouth to mine. Soft sensuous lips met mine. She swept her pouted lips from side to side across mine. She was divine. I could feel perspiration building on my forehead as she broke the kiss. Her waxy lipstick clung to my lips. I wanted her lips back on mine. "Hannah please move forward so that Mr. Webb can see your precious pussy." She slid forward straddling my head with her knees. Soft pussy lips glistened with moisture above me. I took a deep breath. I could smell her aroma. My head was swimming. Two orange fingernails parted her soft pussy lips and I could see fresh pinkness inside. My neck strained upwards to get closer. To taste. To smell. To kiss. My face was like steel relentlessly drawn to a magnet. My fists were clenched, my whole body was writhing, my cock was pulsing. "Michael, lay your head back down and exercise some self-control." With my eyes blinking and my nostrils flaring with each heavy breath my mind processed Clara's request. I listened to reason and slowly returned my head to the tabletop. I could feel my blood raging through my head. "Michael, I'm going to ask Hannah to press her vaginal opening onto your nose. Will you be able to keep enough self-control to keep your mouth closed and your tongue inside as she does it?" I had to think for a moment. I nodded and croaked, "Yes." I really wasn't sure. "Alright then Hannah, go ahead. You will have to hold your breath Michael as she does it." Hannah slowly lowered her pussy towards me. Two orange fingernails kept her lips parted. With each deep breath I could smell more and more of her musky, sweet arousal. I took a deep breath and she was on me. Her pussy was soft and slippery as her soft skin slid onto my nose. My eyes were watering as I tried to focus in on her engorged clit riding on the bridge of my nose. She ground herself side to side before lifting off. I gasped for breath. My nostrils were filled with her juices. She was intoxicating. I was drooling. My head was spinning. My cock was so stiff, if someone just looked at it I'd start squirting. "Very well done Michael. You've shown very good control," Clara said in my ear. Good control? She was putting me through torture. I was starting to understand what the term sadist really meant. "Okay come on off Hannah." She slid off the table. I gazed at her as Clara lifted the table to near vertical again and clicked into place. David was standing with an enormous hard-on. "Hannah, let Mr. Webb see what an excellent cocksucker you are." Hannah knelt down in front of David. She flashed me another sultry smile as she grabbed a hold of David's dick with her right hand. Her orange fingernails barely made it around his shaft. My cock was pointing straight at them. They were no more than four feet away. Hannah eased her mouth onto David's cock. He sighed, placing his hands on the back of his hips, tilted his head backwards and arched his back. He moaned. She moaned pumping him while drawing her head up and down his shaft. I was so fucking jealous of that bastard. My senses were overwhelmed with her. Her lipstick glazed my mouth. Her arousal dripped from my nostrils. My cock was straining, but I could not move. One touch and I would have covered them both with cum from where I was. I was angry. Enraged! I was the one that was tied up. Teased to cruelty. He was already fucking lucky enough to be born with a huge pecker. Now he's getting Hannah -- my Hannah! - to suck him off. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to rape her. Fuck, I was pissed! My chest was heaving. I was struggling to get out of the restraints. I wanted to jamb his fat cock up Clara's ass and jamb mine into Hannah's sweet pussy instead. The one that was still dripping off the end of my nose. That fucking cunt, I wanted... "Calm yourself Michael. Don't lose control." I turned my head to look at Clara. My jaw was clenched. I was hyperventilating. I looked back at the two of them. She was obviously loving it as much as he was. Lose control? Fuck. I continued breathing. And watching. Clara was right. I was losing control. I was supposed to be the adult, as she said. Instead I turned into an animal. She played me like a puppet on a string. Fuck her. What a cruel bitch. As I watched David's eyes roll around his head I realized that Clara was absolutely right. She was right all along. She was absolutely right and I was wrong. This was a journey of self discovery. My emotions or maybe my hormones had taken me over. I was no longer the guy that was appreciative of a fine meatloaf dinner. I was a twisted parody of my own self, gnashing on a table. Was this the real me? Can I see the real me? My eyes watered as I watched the sex act in front of me. I wasn't going to be that animal. I didn't want to be that animal. Although my cock was purple and ready to explode I needed to disassociate myself from my body. And just like that I did. It was as if I was suddenly hovering over my own body. It was as if I were looking down at my tied up body, watching myself watching Hannah sucking off David, with Clara and her massive bosom and straight black hair at my side watching, guiding the entire proceeding. I saw the pathetic creature that I was, straining at the restraints, lusting for Hannah. Unable to move. It was surreal. My reverie was suddenly broken when Clara flipped the table back into horizontal position. Click. "Hannah, please come up onto the table and kiss Mr. Webb." She did as asked and climbed up, straddling me again on all fours, and again not even brushing my cock. I could feel wetness from my pre-cum on my scrotum. Her orange lipstick was smeared. Her mascara was running. Hannah was looking me straight in the eye. Oh how I wanted her to just sit on my cock. I needed her to. "David please come up onto the table too. Fuck Hannah from behind." I could feel David's weight moving the table. His hands reached around Hannah's waist. Hannah kept her gaze on me. Hannah bent down and kissed me softly. I nearly melted. My hips again were straining to get into Hannah before David did. She broke the kiss and while focused on my eyes whispered, "He's going to fuck me for you Mr. Webb. He's going to fuck m...agghhh!" Hannah's eyes expanded to double the size. Then her arms collapsed, her head landing next to my left ear. Her candy nipples were pressed into my chest. I could feel two hard lumps surrounded by firm flesh. I was writhing. "Ah...fuck...agghh....big., so big...gghhrr!" She was snorting into my ear. I could feel David pushing into Hannah. Her forehead was hitting my temple with every thrust. She was sweating, hyperventilating. She tried to kiss me but missed my mouth and her body jerked forward. I could see David's face red, contorting. His chest was heaving as he slammed into Hannah. "Do not cum you two. Do you hear me? Do you understand me?" Clara commanded. David's red face painfully nodded up and down. I could feel Hannah's forehead sliding up and down my left temple. "Yes," she barely gasped. David kept pounding her with his massive cock. Hannah was drooling on my shoulder. I was an animal again. I was overcome by lust. I needed relief, just one touch. Just one. I saw Clara massive jugs swaying as she walked around to the other side of the table. Suddenly the fingers on my right hand were filled with wet warmth. Sticky. Runny. Soft. Clara's face was next to my right ear. Hannah's was on the left, moaning. "Rub me. Finger me Michael." I did. Two fingers effortlessly slipped into Clara's pussy as I watched David's face grimace. Clara moaned in my ear too. Her hot breath tickled my ear. I could feel her fingers on my balls. She was gently squeezing them. Rubbing. Fondling. My chest was heaving against Hannah's breast. Just one touch. Just one! My heart was beating a mile to the minute. I could feel Clara's clit was rubbing against my palm. I couldn't take this anymore. I was about to explode. Please just touch my cock! "Hannah, David. When you are both just ready to orgasm I want you to move up so that your genitals are right over Mr. Webb's face. David I want your balls hitting his chin." Clara stroked my forehead pushing my hair back. "Keep control Michael, just keep in control." Keep in control? I was about to lose my mind! Hannah's stretched wet cunt with David's pulsing cock buried inside were inches from my face. I could smell their combined arousal. They were glistening. Slick as his cock slid in and out of her. I strained my eyes to look up to Hannah's. Her green eyes were like burning glass. Her whole torso was red. A drop of sweat was hanging from her right candy nipple. Clara kept rubbing my balls. My fingers never stopped inside her. "Stop before you come. David I want you to be so close that when you feel Hannah's contractions you will come too. Stop when you get there. Hannah, don't come yet." David stopped right away. Hannah's chest was heaving. Her clit was engorged, an inch from my nose. She was gleaming with sweat. I was overwhelmed by their combined arousals. "Michael. This is it. This is what it's all about. Here you find yourself. Michael you are in control now." She was brushing my hair. "Do you understand?" "Yes," I gurgled. I really didn't. "Good. Michael. You are in control now. But you have to decide. You have to decide something very important. In your answer you will find yourself." Huh? "Either lick Hannah's clit to make her and David come, or don't do it and say to Hannah 'Hannah suck my cock'". It's either one or the other. Either you come tonight or the two kids. Not both. You decide. You are in control. Either them or you." Four sets of lungs were gasping for air, otherwise the room was silent. Time stopped. I didn't know what to do. Hannah whispered with desperation in her sweaty face, "Please let me come Mr. Webb." My cock which was probably black with anger was clearly voting the other way. "Either lick her clit or tell her to suck you off Michael. You are in control. Decide now. It's either them or you. Not both." My mind suddenly went calm. Then like a ripple in still water arising from nowhere, with no pebble tossed, nor a wind blowing, my mind was made up. I licked her clit. On the fifth lick she came violently. Then David came too. His sperm and Hannah's juices where dribbling down my chin, cheek and neck. The whole table shook as their bodies convulsed together. They were both beet red gnashing at the air. Hannah's nose was running, bubbling in one nostril. I only became aware of sound again as Clara's own contractions flexed on my fingers. The three of them were groaning, gasping for air. I felt Clara's fingers leave my balls and grab a hold of my cock. She squeezed it tight. Then she pumped it. On the fourth pump I came like I'd never come before in my life. Everything went grey as my body jerked against the restraints and the combined weight of the three bodies on me. When I was able to refocus again I saw cum hanging from Hannah's left ear. Panting, I turned to Clara. "You said one or the other." I slipped my fingers out from inside her. Grinning, she kissed me on the cheek, "You made your choice." She kissed me again but this time on the lips. I still needed air. We all did. "Once you made your choice, control came back to me." My heart was thumping. I could see Hannah's titties rising up and down with each breath, the sight interrupted only by her flat belly flexing in and out. She was looking down at me like an animal that just caught it's prey. "My choice was to reward your good decision. You did well Michael." My cum dripped off of Hannah's ear onto her left tit, then slid down and stopped next to her candy nipple. "I didn't know it was a test Clara!" my heart was still thumping. "It wasn't a test Michael. I had the privilege of watching you find yourself. I see the result. You are a good man. You are a kind man. You are not selfish. Your heart is bigger than your dick. And please believe me Michael, that is a rarity in a man." Hannah and David peeled themselves from me. As they did, his cock slipped out and a stream of his cum and her juices dribbled from her puss onto my chest. Clara rubbed it all into my chest hairs, smiling. She kissed me and whispered, "Can we get rid of the kids now?" Before I could answer she lowered her lips back onto mine. I nodded through the kiss. Clara lifted then turned her head, holding me tightly, "Goodnight kids. Thank you very much. You both did very, very well. Thank you so much. I'll see you in the morning. I'll look after Mr. Webb from now on. Goodnight. Thanks." She kissed me again. I needed to get out of the restraints and off the table. I needed to get my brain back in order. Before I could say anything, she said, "How about a nice cup of tea?" "Oh, that sounds wonderful." I paused for a second then added, "But can you untie me first?" She giggled. I watched her bare bum and pendulous breasts swaying as she bobbed in and around, over and under, untying me. It was a surreal moment. I was covered in cum, pinned to a table, I'd nearly had a coronary and this naked Asian woman was all polite as if nothing untoward had happened. It was nice to be free again. Another revelation. I rubbed my wrists. The fingers on my right hand smelled of Clara. She smiled at me as she caught me licking my fingers. I don't think I was ever happier. "Wow Clara, this tea is incredible. What kind is it?" We sat down naked on the wingback chairs. "Da Hong Pao, Red Robe Oolong. It's one of the famous Chinese teas." "And these cookies are fabulous. They look like something that is store bought but I know they aren't." She smiled as she cuddled a little closer to me kissing me on the cheek. "It's my Viennese grandmother's recipe. They're called flaky layers and are made with potato and homemade cranberry jam." "Potato? Unbelievable." We watched the fire for a moment. I asked Clara what her last name was. She answered, "Bo. Bee, ohh." "You're kidding me," I said, "you're name is Clara Bo?" "You got it." she answered with a smile. "And you run a mantrap." I said grinning. With a chuckle and a twinkle in her eye she said, "Basically yes, but with a bit more hoop-la." She was something else. "Kiss me again," I whispered. She came across and we cuddled together in a single wingback chair in front of the fire for a while longer. Clara's black hair was splayed out around her shoulders and mine as she kissed me softly on the neck and cheek. "Clara will you sleep with me in the Blue Room tonight?" "Let's have a shower first." I woke up in the middle of the night with Clara curled up in my arms, her back pressed against my chest. She wiggled her bum against my hard cock. I kissed her cheek. She rolled onto her back and pulled me towards her. Our lips met. We kissed. She pulled me on top of her as she opened up her legs. "Make love to me Michael," she whispered in my ear. We did. Silently. Softly. Until we were both spent. Afterwards she kissed me and curled back into my chest. "Thank you," she whispered. I kissed her cheek and gave her a squeeze. "I have a confession to make," she whispered after a few moments. "Oh?" "I've never slept with any of my guests before." I just cuddled her a little closer. Sometime later during the night I half remembered, or perhaps imagined, or perhaps dreamed that Clara was straddled above me again. That she kissed me tenderly and whispered, "Don't leave me Michael." Sometime later, again not sure if it was a recollection, imagination or a dream, Clara whispered in my ear, "Stay Michael." I woke up to the unmistakable sound of a snowplow clearing a parking lot. Clara was nowhere to be found and neither was my bathrobe. It was nine thirty in the morning and bright and sunny outside. I was expected at noon at my brother's house. That was two hours away under perfect driving conditions. I had to get going. The restaurant was a hive of activity as was the kitchen. I didn't see Clara, or David or Hannah. I asked the woman that seemed to be in charge where Clara was but she didn't know. "There isn't a bill for the Blue Room," she said. I handed her my debit card. "It's eight hundred bucks." Someone had cleaned most of the snow off my car. I stowed away my laptop, started up the engine then cleaned the last of the snow off my windscreen. I turned around to find Clara standing in front of me hidden within a parka, holding a shovel. "You're leaving?" She had a forlorn look in her eyes. "I'm afraid I have to Clara." She dropped the shovel and hugged me with both arms. As I kissed her I noticed that tears had welled up her eyes. "When will you be back?" "Soon Clara Bo. Very soon." She hugged me again and said, "You're a good man Michael Webb." As I drove down the highway I couldn't come up with a single reason why I couldn't run my stupid IT business from Carlisle. I couldn't wait to be back with Clara.