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Jemma's Dilemma Ch. 02

By: LexiRoseLexi



Jemma awoke to the sounds of birds singing and sunlight pouring through the window. She was cocooned in comfort, surrounded by soft white sheets, her head resting on a white satin pillow, she could get used to this!

Lazily she stretched, enjoying the way the silky covers slid over her bare skin as she moved. Hold on! Bare skin?

Nervously lifting the covers Jemma confirmed her fears, she was utterly naked under the bed clothes.

Dropping them back down with a squeak, her heart racing, she forced herself to calm down and rationalise. Okay, so while she was sleeping, someone had divested her of her clothes and taken them God knows where, that's fine, thoughtful even. Sleeping in jeans would have been uncomfortable to say the least, and the fact that she hadn't woken up throughout meant she must have been too tired to do it herself. He was just being kind. Kind, she reminded herself, not creepy, even though the idea of some stranger undressing her did rather freak her out. 

Taking a quick assessment of her body, she checked for evidence that anything untoward had happened. No aches, no soreness between her legs, that was good. Obviously he'd seen that she was tired and undressed her to make her more comfortable. Quite gentlemanly in a strange sort of way.

Relaxing back against the pillows she took a deep breath. Don't freak out, she reminded herself, you agreed to do whatever he wanted, he could have done much worse. As it is you've had a good nights sleep, which you definitely needed, you're alone in a massive, comfy bed with no work and no worries, concentrate on the positives here and you may just get through the whole thing without any lasting scars.

I'm taking this very calmly, she thought, by rights I should be screaming bloody murder and demanding I be taken back home this instant. Perhaps I'm in shock? But then she thought about what 'back' would mean, her fiancé in prison, massive debts, constant fear. Was that really preferable?

Well of course it wasn't! At least here she had no need to worry about any of that any more. Well, maybe Kyle...

Instantly she felt horribly guilty, here she was relaxing in the lap of luxury, while the man she loved was locked up in some awful cell. And she still couldn't quite believe that he would have done what the debt collector claimed he had. Apart from the fact that he was a rubbish liar, he was also terrible with figures. Surely something of that magnitude required at least a grasp of basic maths and money? It must have been a mistake. When he'd left for that course he'd been so confident, so pleased that he was going to be able to make up to her for all the heartache he'd caused, she'd felt such a tug of love and desire that she'd ended up dragging him back to bed with the result that he was late starting off, but he hadn't complained once. And he'd been so tender and considerate, surely she'd have noticed if he was putting on an act?

She'd call him, she decided. Find out the truth from the horses mouth so to speak, after all, it could all be some terrible misunderstanding, and surely, when the debt collector saw he was in the wrong he'd let her leave. In any case she'd owe him nothing then and would be free to go either way. And Kyle would understand surely. I mean he'd be a bit hurt at her lack of trust, but the facts had seemed overwhelming and the debt collector was rather forceful. Of course she'd have a bit of explaining to do, but it's not as if anything had actually happened, he'd brought her to his house and she'd fallen asleep, that was all, it's not like they'd done anything, she was certain of that part at least.

Pushing back the covers she sat up in the bed and looked around. The room was large and light and airy, decorated almost entirely in white, with the exception of a few framed seascapes hanging on the walls in no discernible pattern.

One wall seemed to be made entirely of glass and had the most wonderful view of the ocean, which today seemed to be dark and stormy despite the brilliant sunshine. Mood appropriate weather, she thought somewhat facetiously as she catalogued the remainder of the room. The weather is as conflicted as I am!

Apart from the bed, there did not appear to be any other furniture, no wardrobes, no bedside table and weirdly no plug sockets or light switches, there did not even appear to be any light fixtures in the ceiling. 

It must be one of these modern, super-technical masculine homes, she thought, where everything's hidden and you need to clap, or whistle, or press a secret button for anything to work. There was, however, a door nestled subtly in the opposite wall, the woodwork smooth so that it was flush with the plaster and with no visible handle, but she'd seen something like this in one of Kyles magazines. Granted the magazine was some car modding publication, but a door was a door, right?

Wrapping herself in the sheet, she slid her legs over the side of the bed, luxuriating in the thick carpet beneath her feet. She'd ceded to Kyles logic that laminate flooring would be much easier to keep clean, but still, it was cold in winter and too hard for her liking. This, however, was perfect, warm and soft and velvety beneath her soles, her feet sinking into the soft pile, and she dreaded to think how much it must cost. White, as well, to match the room, that would never work in her flat she thought wistfully, not with Kyles inability to remove his shoes at the door. 

Standing, she relished the feel of it between her toes, but before she could investigate the door in front of her, she heard a high pitched beep and another door that had previously gone unnoticed opened in the wall to her right, revealing a slim, pretty girl, dressed all in white and no older than 18 she guessed from her innocent face. Just exactly who she wanted to see while sneaking around, dressed in just a sheet, Jemma thought.

"Oh good," the girl said with a friendly smile, " you're awake.

I'll just run you a bath and then we'll see about getting you some breakfast." And with that she walked towards the other door, a sharp beep sounding before it let her through and then closed smoothly behind her.

Jemma stood frozen in place, completely bemused at this turn of events, before striding to the door the girl had just passed through and feeling around for the handle. Unfortunately her hand encountered smooth wood all around, there didn't seem to be the expected indentation for a concealed latch. Thinking about it, the other girl had just walked up to it and it had opened. There must be some kind of sensor or pressure pad that she was missing. 

Taking a step back, Jemma felt around with her feet, moving this way and that way, but the door remained frustratingly closed. 

Maybe she'd have better luck with the other one she surmised, moving across the room to stand in front of the entrance, but this one also stayed stubbornly shut. There must be something she was missing!

Sitting on the edge of the bed to think, Jemma heard that short beep again and the door at the end of the room opened.

"Your bath's ready," the girl said cheerily, indicating that Jemma should enter.

Warily stepping into the room, Jemma let out a gasp of astonishment as she took in her surroundings. The floor and walls were tiled in pink veined marble, clearly with some sophisticated form of underfloor heating as they felt warm under her bare feet, and in the centre of the room was a magnificent sunken bath, big enough for two or three people, with steps leading down into the water and disappearing beneath the bubbles.

The steam rising from the water smelt enticingly of roses, and, dotted in alcoves around the room were thick white candles, scented with what she guessed was vanilla from the sweet aroma. Weirdly there didn't appear to be any ceiling lights in this room either, but after the palaver with the door she guessed they were on some kind of sensor as well.

Standing in the middle of the room, still wrapped in her sheet, she waited for the girl to leave. Instead she stepped closer, reaching her hand out to unwind the sheet from Jemma's body.

Taking a step backwards, Jemma gripped the sheet tighter, before starting to feel rather foolish. This girl was obviously some kind of servant who was probably used to this kind of thing. Just because no one except Kyle (and now the debt collector) had ever seen her naked, didn't mean this wasn't perfectly normal for other people. She was well aware that she was behind with the times, people nowadays didn't settle down with their first boyfriend and live happily ever after, but she'd never really wanted anyone else, well other than a few passing fancies, but they were private night time fantasies and she'd never really had any intention of making them reality.

So what if Kyle wasn't perfect, she was sure everyone had their flaws, and he'd chosen her after all, out of all the women he could have had, and that had to mean something surely? It's not as if she was exactly the catch of the century, she thought wryly. 

The girl stepped forward again, hand outstretched, and reluctantly Jemma allowed her to take the sheet from her, feeling slightly embarrassed that her legs were unshaven and very aware that she could stand to lose a few pounds in comparison to the nymph standing before her. How to make a girl feel inadequate in 10 easy steps, she thought with a grimace, as she covered her shyness by quickly descending the steps and sinking into the warm baths embrace.

The tub wasn't as deep as she'd expected, only about a foot or so of water, and so she arranged herself at the far end, away from the girls gaze, and set to relaxing, her head falling back against the side, soft, waterproof cushions protecting her from the sharp edges.

Allowing her tension to seep away under the waters caress, she closed her eyes and relaxed. At home she usually had showers, a practical combination of saving time and money, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had the luxury of relaxing in a hot bath, and she'd never had one quite like this! She felt her body rise to the surface and determinedly kept her eyes closed, knowing her instinctive shyness would reject this exposure but at the same time enjoying the feeling of weightlessness.

When the bar of soap touched her bare chest she reeled back in shock, her eyes springing open as she took in the sight of the girl next to her, naked as she was but kneeling rather than laying in the water.

"Please," the girl said shyly, "allow me to attend to you." 

"Umm thanks," Jemma replied, "but I can wash myself, if you'll just pass me the soap...?" She held out her hand and averted her eyes, waiting and feeling slightly uncomfortable at being in this close proximity with another naked female. Even in the school changing rooms, she'd never showered with the other girls, preferring to be late to the next class than to have to compare her body to others. And that was when she was in her prime, she reminded herself, a good ten years had passed since then whilst this girl still had the bloom of youth on her skin.

"Please," the girl replied, "allow me. It is my duty."

Looking up in surprise, Jemma saw the girl was waiting, eyes down-turned. Clearly this was something she didn't understand. She'd heard of filthy rich people having someone to dress them, but never someone to wash them before! The girl seemed to be taking her job very seriously though, unmoving, as if waiting for her command. Well if this was the way it was going to be, then she'd just have to accept it. Presumably the girl saw nothing out of the ordinary in soaping up a female guest, and if that was the case then Jemma didn't want to make her feel awkward about doing her job.

"Okay then," Jemma conceded, "you may continue."

The girl looked up with a grateful smile and resumed stroking the cake of soap over her upper chest and collar bone. 

Leaning her head back against the pillow, Jemma acceded to her touch, closing her eyes so that she didn't have to see what the girl was doing or her reaction to the less than perfect body before her. The girl seemed very polite and professional, but Jemma was sure that in comparison she would be found wanting. She wondered briefly why she had never felt that way when Kyle looked at her. Perhaps because he had always been so voluble in his appreciation, that at least he couldn't have faked, could he?

As the girl drew the soap around her breasts, Jemma felt her nipples pebbling beneath the gentle touch. How embarrassing, she thought, blushing, before wondering if that was a normal reaction to being touched there. Sometimes she regretted her lack of experience, all she had to base things on were her times with Kyle, and they had never done anything like this!

The bar of soap continued in its journey down her stomach and around her sides, slipping down her thighs to her calves, before sliding over her feet and beneath her toes. She had to struggle to keep herself from jerking away from the touch, she was extremely ticklish on her feet, but the girl didn't appear to notice and continued with the other leg before instructing her to roll over.

As she floated on her stomach, Jemma reflected that it was actually quite nice to have someone taking care of her for once, maybe she'd suggest that her and Kyle take a bath together when she got home later. Although his fingers wouldn't be so gentle and his touch so sensual, she thought ruefully, he was more of a hard and fast kind of guy. But he has his gentle side, she reminded herself, I'm sure he'd back off a bit if I asked.

The warm water and her lustful thoughts prevented her from realising for a second that the soap was now sliding between her legs, ever so softly, and she had to bite her lip to prevent herself moaning out load. The pressure of it sliding from the top of her mound in between her arse cheeks and back down again was intense. Then the girl followed the path of the soap with her fingers.

Jemma jerked then held herself rigid. Of course the girl wasn't taking advantage, this was what she would do herself when in the bath, soap up and then make sure the last of the soap is off before rinsing. The movement of the girls small fingers over her labia. The way they bumped her clitoris and slid down her crack around to her arse, well these were all things she would do when cleaning herself, none of this had crossed the line. And if she was starting to feel more than a little aroused by this, at least the girl would never notice, would hopefully attribute any moisture to the bath water or at least not mention the extra.

The girl seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time down there, the soap swirling and slipping over her sensitive parts before being wiped off by delicate fingers, and worrying Jemma could feel the tension pooling between her legs. She looked up at the girl to see if she realised what was happening, but she seemed completely oblivious as she soaped then stroked in a steady rhythm.

Biting her lip and fisting her hands below the surface of the water, Jemma realised she was uncomfortably close to orgasm. She considered asking the girl to stop but rejected that idea almost immediately due to the embarrassment factor. How would she explain, please stop because you're about to make me cum? No way Jose. She'd just have to lie here and hope that either the girl stopped of her own volition, or at the least that the orgasm wasn't noticeable.

At least the last part shouldn't be too difficult, she thought bitterly, she'd had plenty of practise of getting herself off secretly, lying in bed with Kyle after he'd fallen asleep because he just worked too hard and wasn't in the mood. Never mind that she had been working twice as hard at the time.

Suddenly the girl pressed the rounded end of the soap right into her hole and Jemma felt herself clenching around it, as she thrust, once, twice, and then with a quiet little moan and a shiver she came, barely causing a ripple in the bath water as the girls delicate fingers invaded her pulsating pussy.

"All done now," the girl said, "lets get you out and dry and we'll see what we can do about breakfast."

Unable to meet her eye, Jemma allowed herself to be led unsteadily out of the bath water and wrapped in a large fluffy towel, part of her ashamed at the way she'd gotten so turned on at being bathed by a stranger, and a female at that, part of her thinking that Kyle could stand to learn some lessons from this girl!

Jemma's Dilemma Ch. 03



Clasping the towel firmly around her, Jemma followed the girl back into the bedroom, still intrigued as to how the doors worked.

Laying on the bed was a large white robe, the type you get in health spas and expensive hotels. Holding it up, the girl indicated that Jemma should put it on. Feeding one arm then the other into the sleeves, Jemma wrapped the robe around her, fastening the tie belt securely before pulling the towel out from underneath, careful not to expose any more of her body than necessary.

Okay it was a ridiculous gesture considering the other girls fingers had been all over her body just a moment before, but Jemma still felt uncomfortable at the thought of just baring everything. She just didn't have that kind of exhibitionist streak, never had.

Holding out her small hand, the girl took the towel from her and dropped it into a small hatch that once again magically appeared in the wall beside the bed as she approached. Jemma felt a bit like someone had dropped her into a Harry Potter novel, doors that appeared by magic then vanished again, seemingly with no visible trigger or handle, rooms with no lights or plug sockets. Of course she knew it wasn't really magic but it still intrigued her and frustrated her in equal measure. Why could the girl do these things and she couldn't? Bloody men and their bloody gadgets!

Following the girl through the door she'd initially appeared at, Jemma wasn't surprised to find herself in a long, white hallway, framed at each end by windows that covered the whole wall at each end, from floor to ceiling. A little further on, another secret door opened and, walking through, Jemma found herself in yet another large white room, one wall made of glass as in her bedroom. In the centre of the room were two plump, white cushions placed before a low, white table. 

He sure takes the minimalistic look to extremes, Jemma thought as she sat warily on one of the cushions, everything white, the rooms sparsely furnished with little decoration apart from the randomly placed seascapes. It should have felt cold, clinical even, but for some reason Jemma found it comforting. The full length glass walls let in a warm stream of sunlight and the sheer emptiness of the rooms gave her a feeling of security, they were like a blank canvas waiting for inspiration.

Bringing her attention back to table in front of her, Jemma watched as the girl laid out fresh fruit, artfully arranged on the plate as if in a 5* restaurant, golden flaky croissants, bright red jam in a little dish, and, to her relief, a large steaming pot of coffee.

Once the table was laid to her satisfaction, the girl nodded to her and left the room. Jemma took this as an invitation to begin eating and tucked in hungrily, her stomach rumbling as she realised that in the shock of yesterdays events she'd forgotten food entirely. This was much better than anything she could ever hope for at home, the pastry melting in her mouth, sweet and a perfect contrast to the tartness of the jam, she almost moaned with pleasure, when was the last time she'd been able to simply sit and enjoy good food without worrying about time or cost? Years at least, she thought sadly, years and years and years...

Oh well, she wasn't going to be here long, might as well make the most of it while she could, she'd soon be back to reality. Raising a slice of peach to her lips she savoured the sweetness, devouring the soft flesh, a trickle of juice escaping to run down her chin and drip onto her chest. Closing her eyes she pictured the girl following the trail of juice down her body with her tongue, lapping it off before picking up another slice and rubbing it over her puffy nipples, sucking them hard into her mouth and biting down gently...

What the hell was happening to her! These weren't her thoughts! She'd never had any interest in women before, and certainly no interest in using food as a sex toy, clearly the stress of the situation was playing with her mind!

Weirdly though, she didn't feel stressed, in fact she couldn't remember a time when she'd felt more relaxed. The starkness of her surroundings, the lack of distraction, the beautiful views from the window, all these had combined to release a lot of the tension that had built up over the previous years. Perhaps it was the silence, she wasn't used to a complete absence of noise as there was here. In her flat the walls were so thin that you could almost hear the neighbours breathing if you concentrated hard, not that it was ever quiet enough to do that, the angry rows of the couple downstairs, the drunken youths in the park behind her window, the constant sirens of passing emergency vehicles, all combined to ensure she never had peace.

The contrast here was shocking, apart from the few words the girl had spoken in her soft voice, there was a complete lack of sound, it was like being in an isolation chamber.

Taking a sip of her coffee she acknowledged the accuracy of her observation, if it wasn't for the few pictures and the glass walls this would be exactly like an isolation chamber, right down to the lack of fixtures and the doors that she couldn't open. Not a reassuring notion.

Putting the mug back on the table she stood, approaching the door, willing it to open. Waving her hands around she tried to activate the sensor that must be present but it remained resolutely shut. A sliver of fear tried to push itself into her mind and she firmly tamped it down, she was not a prisoner here, she just had a knowledge gap, and as soon as the girl appeared again she would remedy that.

When the door opened again, however, it wasn't the girl, instead an older lady stood in the doorway dressed in a similar white uniform.

"Follow me," she ordered, turning and walking away.

Jemma considered refusing to move until she got some answers, but the woman seemed to sense this and turned, giving her a quelling look, suggesting that disobedience would be a bad idea.

With a resigned sigh, Jemma trailed after her, wondering where she was being taken this time. To find some clothes, she hoped. Walking around in just a robe was rather discomforting, especially as everyone else she encountered was fully dressed. Mind you, as her other alternatives had been a sheet and a towel, the robe was a definite improvement, but she would feel much happier once she was properly dressed.

Following the woman into a room at the end of the corridor Jemma bit back a groan of frustration at the sight of yet another white room. In the centre of the room was a large padded table, white of course, with a hole at one end and a folded fluffy looking white towel at the other end.

It didn't look like her wish for clothing was going to be granted any time soon.



Jemma's Dilemma Ch. 04



The door closed smoothly behind her and Jemma sighed, what now?

The woman removed the towel from the table, shaking it out and laying it flat over the padded surface before turning.

"Take off your robe and lie on your stomach," she barked, holding out her hand.

Resignedly Jemma untied the securely knotted belt and slid the robe from her shoulders before handing it over, blushing as the woman looked her up and down assessingly. Covering as much of herself with her hands as she could, she stood there for a second, frozen under the woman's gaze, before hurrying to lie down flat on the table, making sure to keep her legs tightly pressed together. 

Her head rested level with the hole in the table and it was actually quite comfortable, more so now that only her back view was exposed. Jemma was quite shocked to realise that more people had seen her naked today than in the whole of her adult life and her face turned a deeper shade of red. Okay so they'd all been female, the debt collector still had yet to make an appearance, but somehow that seemed even worse, especially when they looked at her as if they were testing her somehow. 

"Relax," the woman ordered, more gently this time as if realising how nervous Jemma was. "I'm going to give you a massage. Now, do you have any allergies I should know about? Any health problems, back problems, heart disease, pregnancy?"

Her professional manner went a long way to putting Jemma at ease and she answered all in the negative. She'd never had a proper massage before and she was tentatively looking forward to it, although she hoped it wasn't one of those where they punched and pummelled you into submission. The idea of having the breath repeatedly knocked out of her had never seemed to be terribly relaxing to her, but then what did she know?

She'd have to remember to express her gratitude to the debt collector when he did finally appear. This was starting to feel less like imprisonment and more like a stay at a luxury spa, one of those ones she'd looked at longingly in magazines sometimes but known that she would never be able to afford. And whilst she felt guilty for enjoying herself whilst Kyle was locked away in some horrid impersonal jail, there was very little she could do for him at the moment, besides, she didn't think the woman would be particularly pleased if she tried to leave, and even if she wanted to she couldn't open the door without her help and so she may as well make the most of it because it certainly wouldn't last.

Self justification done, excuses made, Jemma allowed herself to sink into the soft bench as the woman began to gently rub warm, sweet smelling oil into her shoulders, just stroking lightly over her skin with the palms of her hands. The woman's hands moved slowly down Jemma's spine in long soft glides that made her skin feel over sensitive and in need of a firmer touch.

As her hands reached the top of Jemma's buttocks, Jemma froze, but the woman reversed her movements and began stroking back up to her shoulders and Jemma relaxed once more, her breathing becoming deeper and slower as the rhythmic movements began to put her into a kind of trance.

Now the woman changed what she was doing, gliding the tips of her fingers over Jemma's oily, sensitised skin, causing her to shiver slightly as they followed the path of her spine, down to her backside and then returning to the top to start again, the woman's hands moving further apart with each pass, meaning that by the third or fourth time her hands were sliding up the side of Jemma's waist and ribcage. Jemma could feel her nipples tightening as the woman's fingers just grazed over the outer skin of her breasts, not lingering, but nevertheless arousing. 

It surprised Jemma to realise how much she wanted the woman to reach round and touch her hard buds, the tension she was building, however unintentionally, was making Jemma think unfamiliar thoughts, and she wriggled a little, uncomfortable with the way her mind was heading. She'd never thought she was a particularly sexual person. And certainly not one into kinky girl on girl stuff, or anything out of the ordinary really, lights off, missionary position or her on top, occasionally doggy when Kyle had been especially persuasive, although she wasn't so keen on that, a combination of worrying about her back view and feeling like she was just being used like an animal meant she rarely came in that position if at all. 

Not saying that she hadn't enjoyed herself with Kyle, because she had, most of the time anyway, but she'd never been particularly adventurous and some of the things he'd suggested had been a bit out of her comfort zone, anal for a start! After a few minutes of intense pain while he tried to push his cock into her tight hole, she'd called time and he'd never suggested it since. 

The same with blow jobs, it wasn't that she didn't want to pleasure him, she did, but it never really seemed to do anything for him and she certainly didn't derive any enjoyment from nodding her head up and down until her jaw ached. He'd always told her he liked what she was doing but she wondered, surely if he liked it he would have cum, even just once? 

Maybe she just wasn't any good at it she thought with a grimace.

But then why was she suddenly having these dirty thoughts all of a sudden, it was like someone had 

taken over her brain and made her see every situation in a sexual light. Very odd!

The change in pressure brought her back to the present as the woman started to knead and squeeze Jemma's shoulders, moving down her back as before but this time eliciting little yelps and grunts of pleasure/pain from Jemma as the woman began to put some force behind her movements. 

After the gentleness of her initial touches it was both a relief and a disappointment to lose some of that hypersensitivity from her skin, but with each movement Jemma could feel the tension in her muscles loosen, the tightness around the base of her neck that seemed to have been there forever draining away and leaving her dazed and more than a little disorientated. It was utter bliss!

She was so relaxed now that she didn't protest when the woman moved Jemma's ankles apart and began the gentle palm strokes on her legs, working her way up the back of her calves and thighs and over her butt, moving back down again to coat the skin on the outer sides of her legs in oil as well.

She did have a brief hesitation when the woman spread Jemma's legs wide and began sliding her way slowly up the sensitive inner skin of her thighs, knowing that from the position she was standing in, the woman would be able to see all the way to the juncture of her thighs, to where her pussy lips were now swollen and glistening with unexpected arousal, but the woman made no comment and Jemma appreciated her professionalism, even whilst she pressed her face a little further into the hole to hide her burning cheeks.

They grew hotter as the woman moved her hands higher and Jemma had to fight the unwanted urge to wriggle closer to those soft fingers. She held her breath as they moved teasingly up towards her drenched pussy, wondering how far the woman would go, needing to be touched but at the same time feeling very strange that it was a woman's hands who were managing to draw this level of desire from her.

That half relieved, half disappointed feeling returned when the woman began to slide her hands back down again, and then begin to draw her fingers over Jemma's skin in the same pattern as before, down the centre of her legs and then back up again, widening the strokes each time, moving from the centre to her outer thighs and then working back in again.

Jemma bit her lip to stop from moaning as the woman's hands brushed repeatedly past, just out of reach of her needy pussy, the knuckles just stroking the ends of her curly bush before moving swiftly on, touching and yet not touching in the most frustrating manner.

The kneading began and again Jemma moaned at the sensations as her muscles became looser and more relaxed, even whilst part of her grew more tense the higher those hands reached.

When the woman started to knead her buttocks Jemma felt herself grow even redder. As if it wasn't embarrassing enough that she was naked and aroused in front of a stranger, and a female at that, she now had the added bonus of each kneading movement spreading her cheeks and her pussy open for inspection. The wet, squelching noise her lips made as they reluctantly separated and then smacked juicily back together made her want to curl up and die, but what was worse was the way the breeze over her dripping slit made her shiver unwillingly and the movement of her labia rubbed gently against her oversensitive clit with each separation of her cheeks.

Her breathing ragged, Jemma fought to control herself as she felt herself getting closer to orgasm, moisture dripping from her needy pussy to land on the towel beneath her. Incapable of stopping she pressed her hips into the bench beneath her, needing pressure on her overstimulated clit, her legs, spread as they were, unable to provide the required release.

She felt the woman's leave her buttocks and slide back down to her ankles and Jemma almost cried out in frustration, biting hard on her lip and tasting blood.

The woman's hands on her ankles seemed to spread her legs wider for a second, as if fully assessing her, before moving them together on the bench. With a shuddering sigh Jemma squeezed her thighs together and humped her hips into the bench, the final pressure triggering her orgasm as she lay there shaking, unable to stop the slight bouncing of her hips and hoping to God that the woman hadn't noticed her complete loss of control, although she would have had to have been blind to have missed it, Jemma thought, shame at her her actions coursing through her. Please, don't let her say anything!

Stepping away, the woman returned with a silky white kimono style robe, helping Jemma to sit upright and gently feeding her limp arms through the wide sleeves before delicately winding a wide belt around the waist twice and tying it in a large bow at the small of Jemma's back. 

Jemma kept her gaze on the floor throughout, unable to meet the woman's eyes after her earlier display. 

Reaching out a hand the woman helped Jemma to her feet, her legs still unsteady as she stepped off the bench and allowed herself to be led through the white corridors to another room, this one completely empty except for the never ending seascapes.

Indicating that Jemma should kneel on the floor, the woman arranged the kimono around her so that it flowed smoothly, covering her legs and feet. Then she gently moved both of Jemma's arms behind her and bound them loosely with a length of silky fabric.

Jemma was too shocked to protest but raised startled eyes to the woman as she loosened the front of the robe slightly, just enough to give a hint of cleavage.

The ties around her wrists weren't tight and Jemma tested them, realising that she could easily slip out of them if needed, but she was strangely reluctant to do so. It was weird but she felt much more accepting of things, more trusting than usual. Maybe it was due to sheer mental exhaustion, perhaps an afterglow of the two orgasms she'd had already that morning, but she was starting to enjoy this, actually looking forward to what else might happen, wondering what would come next.

Gripping Jemma's chin in one hand the woman forced Jemma to meet her gaze.

"You need to wait here. Don't move. Do you understand?"

Mutely Jemma nodded, her face red but unafraid as the woman looked searchingly into her eyes. Apparently she found what she was looking for because she released her hold and smiled.

"You've done very well so far, little one," she said softly, stroking Jemma's hair back from her face, and Jemma felt unaccountably pleased at the unexpected praise. With one more searching look, the woman smiled again and left the room, the door sliding smoothly back into position.

A little nervously, Jemma waited, wondering what on earth would happen next. She didn't have to wait long.

A beep behind her signified the opening of another door and she started to turn her head.

"Don't move!" A deep masculine voice commanded, and she knew it was him. Freezing in position she waited for him to say something, instead she heard footsteps behind her, and then a blindfold was tied tightly around her eyes. 

A little scared now, she made to get up, before remembering his order not to move and sinking back down onto her heels. 

"Very good," he whispered in her ear and she jumped with shock before holding herself steady again. She could feel his breath on her neck and she wondered what he was going to do, but instead of touching her as she'd expected, she felt him move away and again she experienced that relief/disappointment, realising that once again she was beginning to get turned on.

Kneeling on the floor she heard him move around her and her breathing grew shallow as she waited for his next move, all thoughts of thanking him or asking to go home driven from her mind by the combination of his sheer physical presence and her nervousness. Licking her lips to moisten the dry skin, she heard him catch his breath and relished that small triumph.

Her sight removed and her ability to move compromised, she could only sit and wait for him to do something. The thought both scared and aroused her further and she wondered what was happening to her that she could feel this way when in reality she should be screaming her head off and demanding to be taken home. But all of her free will seemed to have been drained from her by the events of the past few days. Whatever he planned to do, she would let him, and worry about the consequences later.



Jemma's Dilemma Ch. 05



Waiting in silence Jemma felt the fear begin to return. She'd been pampered and taken care of and treated, not like a guest as such, in fact, thinking about it, it felt more like a prisoner preparing for his last supper than anything else. Why had that thought never crossed her mind?

Probably because her mind was more focused on sex than on worrying about her situation she thought ruefully. It had seemed that every time she started to focus on Kyle and going home, something had happened to distract her, and she'd just been enjoying not having to worry about anything. Fool!

And now here she was tied, albeit loosely, but still effectively the prisoner of this rather large, rather intimidating man, who was being unnerving silent at the moment. She thought back to that moment when he'd forced her up against the cupboard and held his hand tightly over her mouth. 

He was strong, much stronger than she, and now that the haze of arousal was wearing off she was more than a little terrified again. Surely he wouldn't rape her, he'd told her he wanted her to come to him willingly, but then by coming here in the first place had she not shown willing? 

Maybe that would be enough for him, she thought panicking, and with the doors seemingly impenetrable and the staff unlikely to come to her aide how could she stop him if he really wanted to have her. She was just a girl and a pretty unfit one at that, whereas he clearly spent a lot of time working on his body. She didn't stand a chance!

Her breathing was coming quickly now, almost hyperventilating, and when he touched her cheek she let out a little shriek and jerked away, forgetting her hands were tied behind her back. With another cry she felt herself falling, unable to catch herself as she toppled sideways and landed hard on her shoulder, her head hitting the floor with a thud.

Feeling the touch of his hand on her arm she frantically tried to back away, pushing herself back along the floor with her feet, little whimpers of fear escaping her mouth as she did so.

She could hear his footsteps padding along beside her as she wriggled, pulling the ties around her wrists tight as she struggled to get free.

Changing direction, she yanked at the knots but what had once seemed like a harmless bit of fun had now turned into a painfully restrictive bond and everything she did seemed to make it pull that little bit tighter. Backing up against a wall she realised with a shocked gasp that the wriggling that had made the bonds on her wrists tighter had had the opposite effect on the bow of the kimono, somewhere along the way it had come undone and the robe gaped open. Unable to see, she could feel the brush of air over her heated skin and the slide of the silky material as it parted over her thighs.

Curling her knees up to her chest, Jemma huddled against the wall, terrified and out of breath but with enough self possession to know that exposing herself to this man would only make her more vulnerable. Her heart beating hard against the wall of her chest she turned her head to the wall, feeling the cool solidness against her hot cheek, reverting to childish behaviour now, if he couldn't see her then maybe she could pretend he didn't exist.

When he made no move to touch her again she began to calm a little, her breathing becoming easier and less laboured and the panic dropping to a manageable level. In fact, she was a little embarrassed at her behaviour, all he'd done was touch her lightly and she'd turned into a scared animal, God only knew what he thought of her now!

Her cheeks burned red again with shame as she lifted her chin slightly, still keeping her knees tightly tucked up against her chest, but with a little of her natural fighting instinct returning. He'd startled her, it was only natural for her to be a little nervous, what did he expect? For her to just sit there and let a stranger manhandle her around while she was tied up for his amusement?

Angry now, she waited for him to say something. Every second of silence playing on her nerves until finally she'd had enough.

"Find it funny to scare women do you?" she challenged, his lack of response pushing her temper up to boiling point.

"Cat got your tongue?" She bit out sarcastically, "I'm not surprised. You should be ashamed of yourself!"

When he still didn't answer she felt her bravado start to slip away. She hated feeling this helpless.

Using her knees she rubbed at the blindfold over her eyes, succeeding in pushing it up to her forehead where it stuck, caught by her ears, and she growled her frustration at being unable to use her hands.

Blinking a little at the bright sunlight she glared around, realising with a shock that the room was empty, had she been so scared that she'd imagined his touch, his footsteps?

But no, on the floor in front of her lay a piece of paper, the words darkly black against the crisp white background.

"I said don't move," it read, and Jemma sank back against the wall. What did that mean?



Jemma's Dilemma Ch. 06



Authors note: Sorry to disappoint but it's yet another chapter with no sex. I hope you're looking forward to the next chapter though, that's when things start to get a little interesting ;) 

*

The sun was beginning to set, casting eerie yellow shadows on the walls, before Jemma accepted she would likely be spending the night alone in this room.

Once the shock of the note had worn off she'd sat, motionless, for several hours, hoping to redeem herself for her earlier behaviour. When it had finally dawned on her that he wasn't coming back she'd felt her shoulders sag, hot tears welling in her eyes as she reviewed her situation. It didn't look promising.

Here she was, a prisoner of her own making, trapped in a strange house that for lack of an alternative explanation seemed to operate entirely on magic, at the mercy of a strange man that she had unwittingly managed to upset. She was dressed in just a kimono with her hands bound tightly behind her, and no one knew, or appeared to care, what was happening to her.

And worst of all it was all her own fault. He'd done nothing but spoil her since she got here, the bath, the massage, and yet she'd acted like a frightened child at the slightest touch and ended up in this unenviable predicament. So much for doing whatever he wanted, she'd failed at the first hurdle!

Her shoulder was starting to throb from where she'd bashed it on the floor earlier and having her arms forced into this one position wasn't helping at all. Weakly she flexed her fingers, feeling pins and needles poke into her numb flesh as she tried to regain control of her body. 

Pushing her fingers up to her wrists she tried to loosen the ties, but unable to see she only managed to make it worse, pulling the material punishingly tight against her soft skin, if only they'd tied her hands in front of her it would have been so much easier!

Well, she thought, she could do something about that. Taking a few deep breaths Jemma tried to remember what they had taught her in her yoga classes. After being in one position for so long her muscles had tensed up and she concentrated on mentally relaxing each one again, moving down her body and keeping her breathing deep and steady. One of those gorgeous massages would come in real handy right now, she thought ruefully as her back and shoulders protested at the movement.

Bending forward carefully, she tried to stretch out her spine, cautious of making any sudden movements that might jolt her injured shoulder. Curling herself into a little ball, she began to force her arms down and over her backside. The pain in her shoulder increased and she had to struggle to keep her breathing steady as her motions pulled her arms down, stretching them. 

Luckily the ties, although tight around her wrists, were loose enough in between to enable her to move her hands apart slightly, just enough that she could manipulate them over her hips and bottom until they were clasped together in front of her, wrists resting beneath her knees. All that remained was to lean forward and drag the material under her legs to her feet and up and she was free!

Well, not free exactly, but at least she could see her hands now. Moving more quickly this time she dug her fingernails into the tight knots, thanking her lucky starts that she'd never had the time nor the money to pay for expensive manicures or nail extensions. Pushing into the fabric she tugged and gradually felt her bonds loosen.

When they finally fell away she gave an audible sigh of release, massaging one hand with the other until the blood returned.

The room was cold now, without the sun's light to warm it and Jemma pulled the kimono more closely around her. Not that the thin material would have much effect against the drop in temperature, but at least when she was covered she felt more in control, safer.

Wearily she curled up in a corner of the room and fell into a restless sleep.

***

Some time later, the door slid soundlessly open, a small red light glinting above it before it glided seamlessly back into place.

The man stood watching, silently assessing her sleeping form. She was a complicated little thing, he thought. All the time and effort he had spent into researching her personally, something he very rarely did these days, and yet she'd still managed to surprise him. He certainly hadn't expected her to be so responsive to things of a sexual nature, the information that he'd gathered had suggested she was a rather asexual creature, not terribly interested in the whole procedure, seeing it as a duty rather than a form of pleasure. But her reaction to his staff had showed her to be a much more sexual person than perhaps even she had realised. Her behaviour afterwards had certainly indicated that she was unused to acting in this way.

Her initial reaction to him had also been promising, he'd been able to smell her arousal as he walked around her, and the faint scent of fear had been intoxicating. He hadn't been able to stop himself from touching her. And there began the problem, up until then she had been utterly willing to go along with whatever had been suggested. He'd suspected that she was naturally submissive, her abrasive nature and tough guy persona when they first met something that had been forced on her by her living situation.

Scowling he thought of her fiance, he hoped he would not become a problem. At the moment he was mourning the loss of his beloved, but sooner or later he would start to become suspicious and then he would need to be managed carefully, and in a way that ensured the girl was unaware of the situation until he was confident she was under control.

He quite liked the thought of having her choose him over the alleged love of her life. That seemed rather fitting if a little cruel. Perhaps he would let the boy watch, after all, it would be unfair to let him carry on holding onto the hope of a reconciliation.

Smiling to himself he bent to place a blanket over the prone girl. It didn't hurt to show a little kindness at this early stage, and after all, once she'd realised her mistake he'd quite enjoyed watching her waiting motionless for him to return. She'd lasted longer than he'd expected, he'd thought her patience would run out quickly but she was definitely showing potential.

In fact, he thought cheerfully, this might become more of a pleasure than the chore he had prepared himself for.

Stepping soundlessly towards the door, he left as he had entered, giving instructions that she should be brought to him in the morning as soon as she awoke.

Unusually, he was looking forward to their next meeting. He wondered what other surprises she had in store for him.



Jemma's Dilemma Ch. 07



Shivering, Jemma slowly opened her eyes, keeping very still so as not to alert anyone to her awake state. After the events of the last few days she needed some time to herself to assess the situation she found herself in and work out what she was going to do.

Taking a deep breath, she felt the ache in her shoulder intensify, damn but she'd hit the ground hard! She still felt mildly foolish about her little overreaction but she'd started to justify it to herself, I mean who wouldn't be scared when bound and blindfolded in a room with a complete stranger.

Okay so maybe she'd found it a little arousing to begin with, the fantasy of an unknown man having his way with her whilst she was unable to resist, but the reality had soon kicked in and suddenly it hadn't seemed half as appealing, in fact it was quite frightening. She'd reacted in a perfectly normal fashion to the possibility of being raped and tried to escape, surely he was reasonable enough not to hold that against her.

Listening carefully, Jemma tried to work out if there was anyone else in the room. After a minute or two of only hearing her own breathing, she decided to risk sitting up, unfortunately the move jostled her damaged shoulder and she drew in a sharp, whistling breath as the pain hit her again. She hoped to God that this was just a really bad bruise and that she hadn't broken her collarbone or anything more serious. 

Mind you, a broken collarbone would probably necessitate a trip to the hospital, which would mean getting out of here. She mulled the idea over in her head, a hospital would be easy to escape from, but where would she go? It's not like she had a home any more, and if she just skipped out then she'd have no access to her bank accounts or credit cards, she'd have to go underground like they did in the movies, become a fugitive. And where would she work? Going back to her old jobs would be impossible, and she wouldn't be able to use her social security number, too easily traced.

Realistically, she was trapped here until either Kyle came to get her and they cleared up the mistake, or until the debt collector decided to release her.

A little shiver of fear trickled down her spine as the thought occurred to her that Kyle wasn't due back from his course for almost three months. But surely after that message she'd left he'd get worried when she didn't answer his calls. If he called, that was. Often he'd forget, or perhaps he'd just assume she was working. How long would it take for him to begin to worry, a week, two? 

Maybe then he'd call her mother, but the two of them got on about as well as two cats in a box. If, and it was a big if, her mother answered her phone, she'd probably just assume they were having a tiff and refuse to check up on her. That would frustrate Kyle and they'd end up having another of their rows, meaning that both of them would forget to check up on her for another few days. 

If she was lucky, after that, Kyle might make the trip back at the weekend, find the flat empty and maybe call the police, but that was a good three weeks away and there were no guarantees.

Or worse, she thought, panicking, the debt collector might have her phone and be replying to messages on it. If that were true, she could be completely at his mercy for the next three months! Angrily she tamped down the threads of excitement and arousal that the thought had generated. She was not going to get turned on at being forced to do whatever this sick fuck wanted. She wasn't. She just wasn't that kind of girl. Was she?

Not wanting to dwell on that thought any further she went to stand before noticing the blanket wrapped around her legs. That reassured her slightly, that someone had been concerned enough to come in and make sure she was covered during the night. She wondered if it had been him or one of the girls. Probably a girl she thought, maybe the first one that had bathed her, the other one had seemed too strict, probably thought a night with no blanket was what she deserved. 

Worried now, Jemma wondered where to hide the thin covering. If it had indeed been one of the girls who'd brought it in, she didn't want them to get into any trouble. 

Standing, she bunched it in one hand, walking carefully around the room so as not to jog her injured shoulder. She remembered yesterday, the girl had walked towards the room and a type of laundry chute had opened to take her towel. If she was right, it was just about halfway down the wall opposite the window, just before the door.

Holding the sheet outstretched with her good arm, she offered it up to the wall, wondering if it would accept it or whether it was like the doors and would just ignore her. The swoosh of the panel pulling down in front of her startled her, making her jump slightly as the chute opened, waiting for her to deposit the blanket, and she realised that she hadn't really expected this to work at all. Stepping closer, she peered into the hole, seeing only darkness.

Briefly, she contemplated trying to squeeze into the gap, but instantly she saw in her head images of the chute closing whilst her body was only halfway through, without the safety mechanisms they have on car windows she could be sliced in two. Or worse, what if what was waiting at the bottom of the chute wasn't a laundry basket but a sealed incinerator, automatically set to cremate everything inside at some specified time each day. Did she want to spend the remainder of her life kicking herself for jumping into the unknown, not from some sense of adventure or exploration, but from fear of the known? Especially when the situation she was currently in was enviable in many respects, or at least it had been, until she'd messed up.

Deciding not to dwell on that any further, she dropped the blanket into the gaping darkness and stood back as the door swished shut, instantly becoming part of the wall again. It reminded her of a horror story she'd once read, where the house was a living organic being that had gradually consumed all of its residents, and with a small moue of disgust she backed rapidly away from it until she was in the centre of the room.

Damn it, she was letting her fears run away with her. Living, breathing houses were the stuff of sci-fi and horror movies, they didn't exist in real life she was just being an idiot.

Sitting cross legged on the floor, she turned to stare out at the ocean. The movement of the waves outside calming her irrational fears. Of course, a voice in her head popped up, they might not be real waves, it might just be a recorded image projected on a screen, you never know.

Feeling like she was slowly going insane, Jemma couldn't help but check, walking up to the window and cupping her hands around her eyes, searching for any pixellation or something that would indicate that what she was seeing wasn't real, but, apart from a strange metallic sheen like looking through a one way mirror, she noticed nothing unusual.

Convinced now that she was allowing her imagination to make this worse than it was, she returned to her position on the floor. Someone would come for her soon surely?

***

The sound of the door opening roused Jemma from her trance. Staring at the waves she'd drifted away into thoughts of life outside this place, but now she was dragged back into the real world.

Afraid to move, she waited for an instruction, a word to tell her what she should do, but none came. What to do?

Slowly turning her head she looked behind her. The doorway stood empty and she hurried to her feet. Rushing to the empty gap she spotted the strict, older woman striding down the corridor. Running to catch up, she slowed to a hurried walk as the woman glared over her shoulder, fearing that once again she'd made some mistake.

As she turned the corner, breathing hard from exertion, she almost ran straight into the other lady, stood stationary as if waiting for her. The assumption was confirmed as she spoke to Jemma in a hurried whisper, her voice low and urgent.

"He's waiting for you. Don't disappoint him."

The woman renewed her rapid pace down the corridor and Jemma followed, the woman's words making her raise her chin. This time, regardless of what he did to her she was determined she would live up to his expectations. She would not act like a silly, scared little girl, instead she would behave like a mature woman and not shy away from the bargain she had made. It was a point of pride for her that she had never reneged on any of her debts and she was damned if she would start now, however distasteful the repayment may be.

Halting in front of another opening door, the woman hissed a few words of advice.

"Kneel, do as you're told, speak when you're spoken to."

Then before Jemma had time to protest, she pulled the lapels of the robe tight and retied the bow neatly before nudging her into the room.

The sound of the door closing behind her made Jemma glance quickly over her shoulder. The woman, it seemed, had not felt the need to follow her in this time.

Looking around her she noted another white, empty room, another sea view, but in this room, unlike the others, there was an archway in one wall, suggesting further rooms beyond.

Wondering whether the woman's words meant she should wait here or follow the path through, Jemma decided to play it safe, kneeling in the centre of the room, her eyes down-turned and her hands clasped behind her back.

She was prepared to be left here for hours as a punishment for her earlier disobedience so was shocked to hear footsteps approaching almost immediately, but she kept her eyes to the floor, partly through fear, partly because she didn't want to anger him by looking at him without permission. The fact that she could tell it was him just by his footsteps gave her pause for thought. Was it possible to know someone that well within such a short time? 

Either way, she decided, staring at the ground was the safest option. She'd already experienced what happened when she let fear override common sense and her shoulder throbbed painfully, as if to remind her.

She heard his footsteps circle around her, catching glimpses of his polished leather shoes, making sure never to linger too long on them as they moved in case he noticed her noticing him. She wondered what he was going to do, what he was thinking as he looked down at her, and she cursed that she hadn't had the opportunity to shower or even brush her hair. She knew she looked a pathetic mess and hated that he might think the same. It was a weakness and she was afraid that presenting anything other than a perfectly polished exterior would bring criticism from him.

She held her breath as he stopped in front of her, unable to see anything but his shoes until suddenly he hunkered down to her level, raising her chin to force her to look at him.

"I scared you yesterday," he said softly, his eyes mesmerising in their intensity. "I wish to apologise. Fear was not the emotion I was expecting, I forgot that you were not accustomed to this kind of behaviour."

Staring up at him, Jemma noted the sincerity in his eyes, in his voice as he spoke, but was unsure as to how to respond.

Kneeling mutely she waited for his command.

"I didn't mean to startle you little one," he whispered, stroking the pad of his large thumb over the soft skin of her cheek, "will you forgive me?"

Confused, Jemma was unsure what to do. This certainly hadn't been what she was expecting. She'd anticipated anger, punishment, and instead she got apologies and remorse. Unable to speak, she nodded quickly, her eyes still locked to his as he rubbed his thumb rhythmically over her lower lip. Pressing the tip of his thumb into her mouth, Jemma instinctively sucked on it and felt irrationally proud when he moaned softly at the sensations caused by her hot mouth and wet tongue.

Reluctantly tugging his thumb from her mouth, he looked down at her indulgently, smoothing her tousled hair back from her face.

"I have a contract for you to sign," he began, watching as her gaze became guarded and he wondered what, or whom, had made her so suspicious of peoples intentions.

"You may read through it and seek external legal advice if required, but I am assured by my team that it is remarkably similar to a contract of marriage or a civil partnership, with one exception, instead of parting by death, we may part by mutual agreement or at the end of the two year contract.

"You will, of course, be suitably reimbursed as per our agreement," he continued. "Should I tire of you within those two years you will be able to leave here debt free and with a lump sum that will enable you to begin afresh without any of the worries that previously plagued your existence. The amount, of course, will depend on how well you please me in that time and the duration of your stay here. 

"Should you last the whole two years, you will be free to decide how you wish to proceed. At the end of the two years an amount of £1 million will be deposited in a bank account of your choosing in addition to the amounts repaid on your debts. You should be aware that I bore easily and therefore you shouldn't feel too disappointed should you fail to hold my interest for the entire period. If, however, you manage to command my attention for the full two years you will be given the option to remain here indefinitely by mutual agreement.

"Do you understand?"

Mutely, Jemma was once again only able to nod her assent as he placed the document on the floor in front of her for her perusal.

It was but two pages long, and indeed seemed to resemble the marriage vows she'd been preparing for with Kyle, she would agree to honour and obey, forsaking all others, for the lesser of 24 months or a different term provided mutual agreement was reached, and in return she would receive a lump sum payment (as per the attached schedule -- the sums involved made her catch her breath) as well as full and final settlement of all debts in her name. The only difference was that here, there was no mention of love, of emotional involvement. The final paragraph also contained a caveat, that she would have no further contact with the named person, a Mr Kyle Peters, her fiancé.

On reading this she looked up at him questioningly, waiting for an explanation.

"There is a propensity," he noted dispassionately, "amongst young women these days, to return to the people who have caused the most damage, with the mistaken view that their love will redeem them and somehow change them into better human beings.

"It is my belief that the logic behind this is flawed and that the women involved end up doing more harm than good, often ending up in worse situations than they began.

"I have no desire to invest a significant amount of my time and money in such a person and so, in order to protect you from your softer self, I have asked my lawyers to include the relevant paragraph. Have no doubt that it is legally enforceable should you disobey," he reminded threateningly, and Jemma shrunk beneath his glare, knowing that he'd read her thoughts, the first being what she and Kyle could do with that kind of money, the second being how she could explain to him the situation in such a way that he would be willing to wait for her for as long as this took.

Placing a pen in her hand, the debt collector waited. This was the key moment, once she signed that document she was truly his. 

Her hand wavered as she printed her name and signed above. Whilst she truly didn't want to betray Kyle, she didn't seem to have any choice, it was either this or living on the streets. She just couldn't spend another three years struggling in multiple low paid jobs to repay what they owed a second time, and without any means of communicating with him or the outside world, she had no way of discovering what had happened to the original repayments. It was a case of making the best of a bad situation, and she hoped that Kyle would understand. As for the final clause, well she had two years to figure out a loophole for that. Perhaps Kyle could take her name when they married, they'd work something out she was sure.

Handing the debt collector the completed contract, Jemma had a moment of doubt, wondering if she'd done the right thing, but the look of pride and approval in his face banished all second thoughts as he bent to stroke her hair again.

"You've made the right decision, little one," he comforted her. "Ms Martin will show you back to your room now for breakfast."

At the sound of her name, it seemed, the strict, older woman appeared, indicating with a nod of her head that Jemma should follow her. As they left the room, the lady turned to smile reassuringly at her, before striding briskly down the corridor. Looking back, hesitantly, Jemma thought she saw some movement outside the glass window of the room she'd just left, then the door slid closed and she hurried to follow Ms Martin.

***

Watching her leave, the debt collector noticed how she turned to look behind her. The typical feminine gesture of uncertainty, he thought, before a small sound at the window behind him alerted him to the presence of another.

Already knowing what he would see, he moved slowly until he was facing the window, his suspicions confirmed. Nose pressed to the glass, hands cupped around his face to see through the mirrored coating, stood the boy, Jemma's fiancé.

A curt summons brought Miss Pearce, the younger girl, to the door. She curtseyed prettily and stood motionless, eyes to the floor, awaiting his command.

"Ask security to bring the boy to my study in the main house," he demanded. "And make sure that neither he nor the girl have any knowledge of each others presence."

Startled, Miss Pearce looked up, instantly spotting the boy who moved through the garden area, peering from window to window. With a gasp she glanced at the debt collector, no one had previously found this retreat, panicking slightly she looked to him for reassurance.

"You have no need to fear," he said confidently, "this one has been here before. No one else will find you, didn't I promise I would keep you safe?"

Raising wide eyes, filled with doubt, she let his confidence flow over her. He'd always kept his promises, she knew this, but the worry never entirely left her.

"Trust me," he whispered into her hair, "Whatever it takes I will protect you."

Gathering her into his arms, he held her as she shook uncontrollably, waiting for her fear to subside before setting her away from him and looking deep into her eyes.

"He'll never find you here," he promised, "but now we have work to do. This boy, as innocent as he seems, is a threat. I need you to help me neutralise him, can you do that for me?"

"Yes Sir," the girl replied in a quiet but strangely fierce tone. "I'll have the guards pick him up immediately."

Smiling indulgently, the debt collector waited until she had left before turning and burying his fist in the wall behind him. The boy was becoming more of a nuisance than he'd feared. Pulling his hand out of the ruined paster, he watched unmoving as the wall began to repair itself, the hole filling and decreasing until it was as if it had never been there.

Dragging himself back into his dressing room, he checked his appearance in the mirror. Satisfied, he left the room, making his way to the main house where the boy should be waiting. The study was the most intimidating room in the house. By leaving him there to wait for him, he intended to gain a subtle psychological advantage. He had the feeling he'd need all the weapons he could get at this early stage of the game.



Jemma's Dilemma Ch. 08



Kyle sat, his left foot tapping softly against his right in agitation as he waited for the debt collector to take his seat behind the large oak desk. 

The study was deliberately intimidating, over large, the walls wood panelled where they weren't covered with bookcases full of every type of book imaginable. The floor was fine, polished wood and his shoes made a nervous clacking noise until the man silenced him with one stare, pulling out his leather bound wingbacked chair with barely a sound. 

Sitting down silently, the man crossed his arms and stared at Kyle inscrutably. Seconds passed, then minutes, neither spoke. Finally Kyle could stand it no longer. 

"Where's Jemma?" he blurted out anxiously. The man said nothing, just continued to stare and Kyle wondered whether perhaps in the days since Jemma vanished he'd become delusional. Was he really here or was it an illusion? He'd always sworn never to return and the man in front of him could have been a statue for all his lack of reaction, he didn't appear even to blink as he waited. 

"Tell me where she is you bastard!" he shouted, losing it and slamming his hands down on the desk. The man didn't even appear to notice Kyles agitation, just continued to sit motionless, the action seeming somehow more intimidating than if he'd responded. Standing, Kyle made as if to move around the desk. This, it appeared, provoked a reaction. 

"Sit!" the man commanded quietly and Kyle dropped instantly to his seat, recognising that tone of voice and kicking himself for coming here like this. Why did he have to be so damn impulsive? He should have known better than to try and circumvent the rules. 

Shaking slightly, he watched as the debt collector pushed a sheet of paper across the desk. Kyle recognised it instantly, his signature at the bottom a dead giveaway. With fear in his eyes he looked up at the man, wondering why he'd brought that up. He'd paid his debts, even taken the unenviable step of declaring bankruptcy as had been required, the document was largely irrelevant now. 

Okay, so maybe he'd slipped back into his old ways a little. The day the stamp had been put on their file marking it cleared he'd taken himself off for a pint to celebrate and run into some old friends. And the agreement surely didn't stand when the debt was cleared. 

Besides he'd been grateful for the company, Jemma had been at work, Jemma was always at work these days, he didn't understand why she'd pushed so hard to get the debt paid over three years. The court had offered five, even ten years but she'd been adamant that she wanted it paid as soon as possible. 

So it was only reasonable that he hook up with some old friends for a night on the town. Jemma hadn't cared, he didn't think she'd even noticed to be honest. The only thing she'd noticed was when he got this new job. And despite trying to tell himself otherwise, he suspected part of the reason she'd been so happy was that he wouldn't be sitting around the house making mess and washing up. Sometimes he wondered if she even liked him any more, let alone loved him. 

Despite this, he still worried about her and, when she'd vanished so uncharacteristically after that rather bizarre phone message, he'd known exactly where to find her.

Staring sullenly up at the debt collector, he waited for him to explain what this was about. With a sigh and a disappointed look, the man started to speak in a weary tone. 

"We had a deal did we not?"

"We did," Kyle replied quickly, "and I paid off the debt exactly as we agreed."

"How much of the debt did you pay off? You, not the young lady. You personally."

"Well," Kyle stuttered, knowing that he'd somehow managed to fuck up somewhere, "I'm not entirely sure, everything went into a joint account and Jemma made sure everything was paid. She's better with money than me."

Perusing another sheet on the desk the man pushed it to join the contract in front of Kyle. 

"That is a break-down of your joint income and expenditure for the past three years. According to my accountant you contributed 20% of the income and yet almost 40% of the expenses are attributable to you. 

"So I ask again, how much of the debt did you personally pay off?"

Confused, Kyle tried to make sense of the figures in front of him, sure, most of the spending seemed to be on his side, but still. Skimming down the list various items caught his eye. Tv & X-box £900. Well yes that had been mostly for him, but he had to do something when he was home alone at night and £900 was nothing compared to what he would have spent if he'd gone out each evening so he'd actually saved a few thousand on just that item. 

Roller blades and bicycle £1,230. That too saved money, it was a good hour walk to work and at the end of the day he just wanted to get home and relax. The blades and bike had meant he could get home from work in 15 minutes or so and were often quicker than taking the bus. With a ticket costing a good £2 each way that must have saved thousands as well. 

In fact what had Jemma done to save money? She'd gone and bought that death trap of a car to get to and from work and it drank petrol. There it was, Car £300, Petrol £1,500. I mean there you go, she was costing them thousands while he was saving them money. 

Well on that basis...

"I think it was a pretty even split actually," he said, pleased with himself for working it out. He'd never been much good with numbers. 

Letting out an exasperated breath the debt collector tried his hardest to resist the urge to lean over the table and strangle the idiot boy. 

"No!" he bit out harshly, silencing the boy with a hard look as he opened his mouth to argue. "You paid precisely nothing. In fact you paid less than nothing. You allowed the girl to pay your debts and subsidise your standard of living. 

"And then as soon as she'd finished paying it, that very evening as a matter of fact, I find you back in the pub with your 'friends' putting an entire weeks worth of wages up your nose!"

"I was celebrating," Kyle replied petulantly. "I hadn't been out in three years. I deserved it."

With a look that suggested he was lower than low the debt collector dismissed the argument with a flick of his wrist, continuing his damning commentary. 

"I thought that by removing you from the vicinity of your friends, by placing you in a job far, far away from their influence, that you'd finally show me you were worth the investment I made in you. But no. 

"How much coke have you used these past few weeks? No," he interrupted as Kyle started to answer, "I already know. Almost £500 worth. How you're still standing I don't know!"

Looking down at him in disgust, the debt collector wondered why he'd ever bothered with this one. He'd known he was a bad bet but, at only 19 he'd reminded him of someone and so he'd overcome his misgivings and stepped in. And instead of sorting himself out he'd placed the entire burden on the girls shoulders and then gone back to his old tricks. 

"It's not like I spent any money on the coke," the boy ventured cautiously, wary of provoking his anger. Wise boy. 

"And how do you work that out?" he drawled sarcastically. 

"Well it was just extra. I bought it from this guy and he said as long as I got him £800 back then the rest was mine."

The little imbecile!

"So not only are you using, you're dealing as well?" he bellowed, rising to his feet in anger. 

Cowering in front of the man, Kyle felt real fear for the first time in ages. Coming here had definitely not been one of his better ideas. And what an earth had possessed him to mention the dealing. It wasn't even like he was making a profit from it, he only sold to his mates and only as much as he needed to, the rest he kept for himself. It's not like he was flogging down the local park to kids or anything, it was just a way of getting his gear on the cheap. Saving money again. Why did he keep getting blasted for saving when Jemma was suddenly white as white. 

Oh yeah, cos she was always the little goody two shoes, didn't touch drugs, worked all the time. Didn't sound like much of a life to him. So what was he doing here worrying about her anyway. Clearly the debt collector had claimed her as teachers pet. She'd be swanning around living the life of Brian whilst he slaved away at his boring job. Well if he even had a job any more he thought with a start. He hadn't realised that offer had been the debt collectors doing, he'd just thought that finally someone had recognised how under utilised he was sitting at a desk. And he was good at the new job too, he wasn't faking it or anything. 

The man grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and propelled him towards the door, startling him out of his thoughts as he struggles to keep up. 

Passing the lady he'd taken as the receptionist, the man snarled an order back at her and she rushed to do his bidding, opening the front door as he relentlessly dragged the boy towards it. 

Physically thrown from the house, Kyle landed on his knees on the gravel drive. The small stones biting into his skin painfully as he turned back to protest. 

"Vanish!" the man ordered darkly, "before I do the job myself."

Scrambling to his feet, Kyle took one look back over his shoulder before breaking into a run down the long gravel pathway. 

The man didn't even stay to watch, the heavy front door slamming behind him with a bang. 

***

Halfway down the drive, Kyle collapsed, his breathing heavy with shock and exertion. He'd known he was taking a risk coming here but he hadn't realised how much of a risk. 

And he still hadn't found Jemma. 

He knew she was here, he knew it, the debt collector would never have been so protective of her if he hadn't had an interest himself. But what could Kyle do? If he didn't vanish there was a good chance he'd end up dead somewhere. He needed to get away and think for a while, plan, a proper plan not this half arsed attempt. 

Picking himself off the ground he dusted himself down and began walking more sedately towards the gate. Everything here was monitored and so he couldn't take the chance of going back now. They needed to see him leave, tail between his legs and vanish. 

He'd be back though, and next time he'd be leaving with Jemma.



Jemma's Dilemma Ch. 09



Authors note: This chapter contains lesbian sex. It's the first proper consensual lesbian sex scene I've written so apologies for any glaring errors. All feedback/comments gratefully received. Lexi x

*

Once again Jemma was pleasantly surprised at the spread of food before her. As she sat in silence, greedily swallowing down fresh fruit and warm, buttery croissants she forced herself to think of inconsequential things, the play of sunlight reflecting from the sea in front of her window, the sweep of a birds wing as it plunged fearlessly below the water, anything, in fact, except that damn contract and the man she'd signed over her freedom to for the next two years. 

With a sigh she stood, her appetite forgotten as her stomach churned with barely suppressed panic. No, she thought, she wouldn't think of that. 

She didn't even jump this time as the door opened and the younger girl cleared away the breakfast things. If anything, she felt numb, too shocked to protest as once again she was led into the bathroom and those nimble fingers probed and caressed her beneath the water. 

Her orgasm was involuntary with none of the usual pleasant sensations, just something her body did without her consent, like sneezing when someone tickled her nose. She felt no shame or embarrassment this time. She felt nothing at all, her eyes blank and staring as the girl wrapped her in a robe and led her to a padded leather stool in front of a large mirror. 

As the girl started to gently comb out the tangles in her hair Jemma closed her eyes, her expression scaring her. It was as if she was detached from her body, observing from a distance. She'd never felt like this before, like she had no control, like she had no choice. And the worst thing was that she'd given up her freedom voluntarily. Given up her life, her family, Kyle, in exchange for money. 

She'd always wondered how people could fall into prostituting themselves. Had always thought that she'd never be caught in that trap. And yet here she was. Selling herself for money and security. She felt sick. 

***

The rest of the day passed in a haze of household chores and nervous panic. She knew he must come for her soon but it was the waiting that was the hardest part. How soon would he expect her to fulfil her half of the bargain?

The mindless manual labour left her far too much time to think as she peeled endless piles of vegetables and polished white marble floors on her knees. 

She'd been handed a white tunic, similar to that she'd seen on the younger girl, and through the mist she noticed that there were several other girls wearing the same clothing. All young, all performing the same basic tasks. 

The older woman wore a more elaborate dress, still white of course, and she appeared to be in charge, appearing every now and again to bark orders or offer small words of praise before vanishing again. 

Of the debt collector she saw nothing. 

This should have reassured her, instead it increased the tension inside of her. When would he come? When would he take her?

She wanted to ask the other girls if they knew. If they knew what he was like. Was he gentle? Was he kind? Or would he just take what he wanted and throw her aside. She'd never done the whole casual sex scene, all she knew was Kyle, what if he was disappointed in her?

***

As the sun began to set she found herself back in her room, a bowl of what looked like stew in front of her. Feeling nauseous she forced each spoonful down, knowing she had to keep her strength up even though privately she thought it wouldn't hurt her to lose a few pounds. The sheer 'normalness' of that made her giggle slightly hysterically. Only she could worry about her weight in this kind of situation. 

As the enormity of what she had agreed to finally sank in, her giggles turned to hiccups and then dissolved into big, gulping sobs. No tears, she wasn't crying, she wouldn't cry! She heard the swoosh of the door sliding open but she didn't look up. Soft arms wrapped around her and she rested her head on the offered shoulder, burying her face in brown hair and delicately scented skin, the tears finally falling and dampening the other girls tunic as she rubbed Jemma's back soothingly, muttering nonsense words into her ear. 

The stress of the day finally got the better of her and she fell asleep in the younger girls arms with a soft sigh. 

***

Jemma woke to the familiar feel of a warm body wrapped around her. Sighing happily she wriggled closer, still half asleep. Soft arms wound around her waist, delicate fingers stroking gently over the exposed skin of her stomach and up to caress the underside of her breast. Jemma could feel her nipples tightening beneath the sheet and wondered absent-mindedly how it was that this girl, who she'd only met a day or two ago, could know so instinctively how to arouse her body when Kyle didn't.

The girls clever hands roamed over her body and Jemma gave up the pretence of sleep. She knew this was wrong but it felt too good. Rolling over in the bed, she tentatively reached out her hand to touch the other girl, marvelling at the way her nipples shrunk and hardened beneath Jemma's questing fingers.

The girls breasts felt strange in her hands, heavy yet delicate, the skin smooth and soft and warm. Gently she lifted, squeezed, tugged, watching the girls face to gauge whether she was enjoying it. Taking a deep breath, Jemma lowered her head, her tongue darting out to lick around the dark brown aureole, smiling as she heard a small moan escape from the girls mouth.

Sucking the whole nipple into her mouth, she rolled it in her teeth, the unfamiliar hard button pressing eagerly against her tongue as the girl arched her back in pleasure. Dampness flooded between her thighs as she sucked and nibbled at the other girls breasts, pushing her flat on the bed in order to pay attention to both equally.

Curiously she reached down with one hand, fingers delving beneath the sheets to slide over the girls hairless mound. Her pussy felt soft and plump and smooth, the lips parting at the insistence of Jemma's inquisitive hands to reveal hot, slippery dampness.

As if she were touching herself, Jemma stroked down over the girls wet slit, collecting her juices then bringing them up to circle around her sensitive clit. It was strange to touch another girl so intimately, to see her writhing and responding in the same way that Jemma did herself and she felt a strange sense of pride. With Kyle she had always felt so unsure, but here, with this girl, she knew exactly what to do, exactly where and how and how hard to press to give her pleasure.

Sitting up, she stared down at the girl. Her eyes were closed and her mouth slightly open, her small white teeth biting her bottom lip as Jemma's fingers swirled teasingly, causing her to emit small strangled moans as she wriggled and gasped.

Tugging down the bed covers Jemma looked for the first time at another womans pussy, the smooth hairless mound glistening with her juices, the lips slightly separated. It felt wrong to be staring at another girl like this but at the same time so arousing. The scent of the girls juices drifted up, musky and inviting. Did she dare taste her?

Sliding one, then two fingers inside the girl, Jemma paused uncertainly, this was way outside her realm of experience. The girl twitched around her fingers, her pussy squeezing tight as she moaned and bucked her hips, wanting more. Nudging her knees apart, Jemma knelt between the girls legs, her fingers gently thrusting into her as she bent to taste the girl for the first time.

Slowly she licked the length of the girls slit, from where her fingers entered her up to the hard nub at the top. The taste was not at all as she'd expected, sweet, yet tangy and musky and not at all like the taste of a man.

Keeping her tongue flat she continued licking up and down, never stopping in one place. The girl writhed and moaned beneath her, her pussy drenched and contracting around Jemma's fingers with each pass of her tongue.

Adding a third finger, Jemma felt the girls tight channel stretch to accommodate her. Using her thumb and little finger to spread the girls lips Jemma began to draw tight, wet circles around her clit, watching in delight as the girls hands fisted and released rhythmically against the sheets.

Instinctively, Jemma's other hand reached down to her own wetness, moaning against the girls pussy as she felt the evidence of her own arousal. Mirroring what she was doing to the girl she thrust three fingers inside herself, her thumb rubbing frantically over her own clit as her tongue was doing to the girl.

Moving faster now she thrust and licked and rubbed, hearing the girl cry out as she convulsed around Jemma's fingers, squeezing them tight. The sights and sounds and smells of the other girls orgasm were too much for Jemma and with a small, breathy sigh she pushed herself over the edge as well, collapsing on the bed spent beside the girl.

Rolling onto her side, still breathing hard, the girl put her arms around Jemma, pushing their bodies tightly together as she took her lips in a soft, hot kiss. Jemma could still taste the girl on her lips and she grinned as the girls tongue darted out, cleaning Jemma's mouth and chin of her juices before pressing her lips tenderly against Jemma's forehead.

"Time for breakfast," the girl said softly as she climbed out of bed and tugged on her white shift.

Bemusedly Jemma watched as the girl exited the room, collapsing back on the bed to catch her breath. What on earth had come over her?