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A Binding Oral Agreement

By: krr1957



This story deals with mind control, femdom and bdsm themes in a lesbian setting. If you think you will be upset by this please find yourself another story.

Chapter 1

I signed the partnership document where required and than passed the pen over to Gemma. It was a big step to take and I expected to see some of my own nervousness reflected in her expression but the look on her face was difficult to fathom. She was smiling but it was the passive smile of a chess player who had just seen her opponent unwittingly make a telling error.

Jenny, in her capacity as our solicitor, witnessed our signatures and then agreed to join us for a celebratory drink. I assumed that we would go to the local wine bar, as was our usual habit when the three of us got together, but Gemma suggested a pub that she knew. She drove and kept up a light hearted conversation with Jenny whilst I sat alone in the back seat trying to spot a landmark I could recognize. We had come south of the river and I was in totally unfamiliar territory. 

The pub turned out to be not as bad as I feared. It was almost new, brightly lit with modern beech and chrome fittings. To start with we almost had it to ourselves but later a hen party arrived and things grew a little more lively. There was a small podium at one end of the bar and at some point a microphone materialized heralding the arrival of a comedian. Playing to his audience he started to tell a series of male deprecating jokes which I found mildly embarrassing but Gemma laughed along whole heartedly. She had always been far more liberal minded than me and often poked fun at my somewhat prudish outlook on life.

I hoped that we could call it a night but Jenny insisted on getting in another round of drinks and a second act took to the stage. This time it was a woman but she looked more like a doctor than a comedienne. She was dressed in a business suit and wore minimal makeup but she had the sort of natural beauty that needed little enhancement. It turned out that she was a hypnotist and after a brief, almost peremptory, introduction she called for a volunteer from the audience. One of the women from the hen party was pushed forward by her friends and that was my first surprise. I had often seen stage hypnotism on television but I was convinced that it was based on plants in the audience. In this instance I had seen the woman arrive with her friends and I was sure that she was genuine. The second surprise was the ease with which she was put under. There was no preamble, no hocus pocus, the hypnotist simply asked her to take a seat and close her eyes. She then touched the tip of her finger to the woman’s forehead and spoke just loud enough for the audience to hear. 

“When you hear the music you will be a pole dancer.”

With those few simple words she stepped off the podium and switched on her CD player. The music was a nondescript dance track but as soon as it started the woman got up from her seat and began to gyrate. She gave it everything she had and would probably have made a genuine performer but the joke was that, whilst for her it was real, for the rest of us the pole was completely imaginary. I laughed despite myself and continued to laugh as she called more people to the stage. 

The next woman was encouraged to flirt with a broom and the one after was convinced that she was a man who was jealous of the broom. When the next volunteer was called it took me a second or two to realize that Gemma and Jenny were pointing me out. Whilst my business dealings call on me to be gregarious I am, by nature, shy and the last thing I wanted to do was to go up on stage but I was curious. I would have said that I made a poor hypnotic subject and I wondered if she would pick up on it and look for someone else. Gemma had me pulled to my feet and the woman beckoned me forward. I felt slightly uneasy but it was too late to back down; the crowd was shouting encouragement and I did not want to seem a spoilsport. 

The woman had me sit on the chair and then I found myself looking into her eyes. For a second or two I had the strangest feeling that I knew her and I was still racking my brains when she moved her fingertips towards my eyelids causing me to close them reflexively. 

“When you hear me say the words “Good dog” you will yap like a puppy”

The words hovered in my subconscious and, for an instant, my mind conjured a bizarre visualization. Did I know her because she was my mistress and me her pet? 

“Good dog.”

I heard myself starting to yap and some distant part of my mind knew I had to stop but my mistress looked so pleased that I grew even more excited. I began to wag an imaginary tail causing the cautionary voice to grow louder and for a moment I seemed to have control of myself but then I became aware of the audience’s laughter. I did not see what right they had to laugh at my mistress and so I turned to them and yapped indignantly. They, of course, laughed all the harder and I was almost overcome by the urge to bite someone. 

The woman must have sensed my growing distress. She touched my forehead and said “Stop”.

Notwithstanding what had taken place I was surprised to find myself on all fours and I quickly got to my feet. The audience applauded as I returned to the table to find Gemma wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks. We left soon afterwards and Gemma dropped me at my flat before going on with Jenny. Once inside I made myself some coffee, drew myself a bath, and mulled over what had happened. On the plus side I had established myself as a good sport who could enjoy a laugh at my own expense but, when I came to examine it, I was upset at how easily I had been manipulated. 

As I toweled myself dry I looked in the mirror. I prided myself on my self confidence, and there was no doubt that some of that was based on my perception of my body image, but the reflection that I saw just then seemed different somehow. That person that I thought I knew so well now seemed flawed. 

I laughed out loud and tried to put it out of my mind. Gemma’s nickname for me was “Stoney” which was a little double edged. She said that I looked like the Basic Instinct actress and whilst I denied it I was secretly flattered. I thought I looked good for my twenty eight years and I took particular pride in my breasts which I’m sure would have had Sharon jealous. The thought was master of the deed and almost without thinking I brought my hands up and gently began to pinch my nipples. They quickly became engorged turning from a coral pink to a more angry red in the process. At that moment I wanted Sebastian to be with me but, since our engagement, he had had to take more foreign business trips than ever. He was an ardent lover and, with a little bit of fine tuning, I was turning him into considerate one. He loved my nipples and I had taught him how to suckle them in just the right way to the point that I could orgasm from that alone. 

The thought of it sent up the temperature between my legs and I contemplated the vibrator that I kept by my bedside but on this occasion the full length mirror held me. I felt almost disembodied as I watched my hand move downwards until my carmine varnished fingernail grazed the frizz of blonde curls that covered my pubis. I pressed gently against my labia and was surprised at how wet I already was. I pouted playfully at my reflection and in my mind I told myself that I was a slut. As if to acknowledge the fact I moved closer to the mirror and stood with my feet a little further apart. I had intended to allow myself a leisurely orgasm but I was overcome by my own wantonness. I used my free hand to hold myself open and I sought out my clitoris. I rubbed at myself with unaccustomed vigour and started to groan as my orgasm quickly grew. I was staring directly into my own eyes as I collapsed to my knees and allowed it to finally overwhelm me. It was the most intense climax that I had reached in a long time and there was no obvious reason for it. I was still puzzling it over as I slipped into bed ready to start all over again.

The following morning I arrived at the office to find my new partner already at work. It still seemed odd to think of her in those terms. When we both left Stowe and Lawless it had been with the intention of setting up as sole practitioners but it had seemed logical to share office space until we found our feet. I had never doubted that I would fair better than Gemma in the long run not least because I was already armed with a reputation for having a sharp intellect. Not that Gemma was an intellectual slouch it was just that if she could win people over with her feminine charms she was always prepared to take the easy option. She was two years younger than me and if Liv Tyler was ever in need of a stunt double Gemma would fit the bill. She had dark, almost gypsy, good looks that could flash from total innocence to downright sexy in the blink of an eye. There was no doubting that those looks had hooked some male clients who might otherwise have gone elsewhere.

As the months passed we had developed a curious but successful symbiosis and when, finally, Gemma had suggested a formal partnership, I could find no good reason not to aside from an instinctive unease that would not come into focus. 

As I walked into my own office Gemma followed me in.

“Diane Logan isn’t going to bite.”

I must say that I was not altogether surprised and perhaps even a little relieved. There was something about Logan that did not quite ring true and I was not altogether convinced that she would make a good client. Gemma took a seat on the leather sofa that I used for meetings before speaking again.

“You know, if she was a man I could have her in the palm of my hand.”

It seemed an odd thing to say and so I joked with her.

“Are you thinking of becoming a lesbian?”

“Don’t be silly…but I thought you might…”

I looked at her expecting her to laugh but she looked to be in earnest.

“…You’ve seen how easily men can be hooked, and you know what it’s done for our revenues, imagine if we could hook women in the same way.”

“Gemma, are you on medication? Just listen to yourself. I’ll admit that you’ve had one or two successes but that doesn’t mean that I condone your methods.”

“Your problem is that you take it all too seriously. Why knock yourself out when you can make life so much easier for yourself.”

Now I was beginning to get angry.

“I’m proud of what I do, it’s called professionalism.”

I saw a flicker of anger in her face but it was gone almost as soon as it was formed.

“You go through life thinking you’re so much better than anyone else. It’s not healthy to spend all your time looking down on other people.” 

The bitterness in her tone came as a complete surprise to me. I had no idea she conceived of me in that way and, worse still, she seemed upset by it. I was still trying to think it through when she spoke again.

“You know what? I’ve never seen you naked. I guess I ought to inspect the goods before I put you on offer.”

If she was hoping to shock me she succeeded. It seemed such a bizarre thing to say and I was stunned by it. Looking back, I suppose that she was trying to get me off balance because as soon as she saw the distress in my eyes she spoke the fateful words.

“Good dog.”

It was as though a shutter came down. Somewhere deep in the back of my mind I heard an echo of myself barking like a dog and with it came a sudden, overwhelming, desire to please. 

“Undress yourself.”

I registered that I was still in my own office and that to undress there was entirely inappropriate behaviour. For the next few seconds I fought to get a grip but for reasons I could not explain to myself I could not tear my eyes away from Gemma’s steady gaze and the more I looked the more I knew that I wanted to please her. Almost before I knew it I began to slip my jacket off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. As my fingers moved to the buttons on my blouse there was a lonely voice in my head begging me to stop but I could see that Gemma was surprised at what I was doing but, more importantly, she was clearly pleased. 

My blouse soon joined my jacket in a heap on the floor and then I worked the fastenings on my skirt so that I was left standing in just my underwear and stockings.

“Let’s see the whole package.”

At that point I hesitated and Gemma must have realized that she had given an ambiguous command.

“I want to see you strip completely.”

The brief pause allowed the voice to scream at me more shrilly but I could not stop. I removed the remainder of my clothes until I stood there totally naked but as Gemma looked me over some vestige of decency caused me to blush and forced me to cover myself as best I could. 

“Well I don’t think there is any doubt that it works. Now here’s the deal. Every time you hear me say the words “Good dog” you will revert to, or come out of, this suggestive state; other than that you can go about your life perfectly normally. However, I don’t want you to trying to run out on me. You will continue to live at your flat and you will continue to come into work as usual.”

I heard and understood every word and my instinctive reaction was to swear at her but some traitorous part of my mind would not allow me to displease her in that way. 

“Tell me, have you ever been with a woman before?”

I did not want to answer, I willed my mouth to stay shut, but the word was out before I could stop myself.

“No.”

“I didn’t think so, neither have I, but seeing you like this…come here.”

I could feel perspiration prickling my back as I fought to stay where I was but the internal battle of wills was soon lost and I took a couple of steps forward. 

“Kneel.”

As I went to my knees she stood up in front of me.

“Regrettably, for you, the prospect of going down on another woman holds no appeal but I have dreamt of having it done to me as I’m sure you have.”

The voice of dissent was now clearer than ever in my mind, and I recognized it as my true self, but I was trapped in a body which would no longer do as it was told. As I watched Gemma slowly lifted her skirt to reveal an expensive pair of pale blue silk panties and I could not help but notice a small dark wet spot which seemed to be growing even as I watched. 

“Take them down for me.”

My hands were shaking as they reached forward and my head jerked almost imperceptibly as I tried to resist but my thumbs slid into the delicate waistband and I started to ease them down her legs. I was immediately assailed by a scent that was familiar from my own fingers but, where in the past I had found it arousing, it now made me feel afraid. 

Gemma stepped out of her panties as I pulled them down to her feet and then she brushed her hand across the Mohican of dark hair that delineated her sex. 

“Beautiful, don’t you think?”

It was not the word I would have used. I had seen the odd porn film but I had never been that close to another woman before and nothing could have prepared me for the sheer carnality of it. I could feel the heat emanating from her and the very air around me felt moist.

Gemma sat back down parting her legs lewdly as she did so. 

“Come here and lick me…”

Her voice had trembled slightly, a mix of nervousness and growing excitement, and the hint of hesitancy was enough to rekindle my resistance. I had started to lean in towards her but now I stopped short as I tried to pull back from the brink. Above me Gemma gave a gentle laugh.

“Don’t try and fight it. I know that right now you hate me beyond measure but, in spite of yourself, you will please me.”

I do not know if the choice of words was deliberate but it tipped the balance. My face was drawn forward again and I hesitantly poked out my tongue. I withdrew reflexively as I encountered the coarse curls of her pubis which already bore her taste but the voice in my head told me that, if I had to go through it, it was best to try and get it done with as soon as possible. I closed my eyes and thrust forward pushing my tongue into her wet gash.

I knew my own sex so well and could have described it in its every detail; I also knew that every woman was essentially the same but right then I felt lost in the hot wet pit that Gemma had become for me. For a few moments she tolerated it, reveling in the novelty of it, but then she wanted more.

“Lick me like you like to be licked yourself.”

Had she but known. Sebastian had always been a little reluctant when it came to pleasing me orally but I soon made him understand that if he expected it of me then he was damn well going to do it in return and he was going to do it just as I liked it. Now those lessons came back to haunt me. I could hear myself as I gently took her labia between my lips and ran my tongue gently along the silken folds. Gemma found this more to her liking and she settled more comfortably into the sofa.

“That’s nice … just like that…”

I alternated between the two sides of her sex and every now and then I allowed my tongue to dip inside. She was getting much wetter and I hoped that she was ready to finish but as I moved my tongue higher to seek out her clitoris she placed an admonishing hand on the top of my head.

“There’s no hurry…carry on just as you are.” 

Long minutes passed during which time I had to fight to keep my stomach in check. At one point I dared a look only to find her smiling down at me with a look of total condescension but I could also see that she was losing her self restraint.

“That’s so nice baby…a little harder now…make me come.”

Using the tip of my tongue I worked towards the top of her labia only to hear her laugh at my clumsy efforts to find the spot but her own need was growing more urgent and she used her finger s to part herself. Her clitoris was surprising small but as she pressed with her fingers it came free of its fleshy cloak and I was able to flick my tongue over it.

Almost immediately her body began to shudder and I darted my tongue as quickly as I could.

“Oh shit!...YES!...Don’t stop!”

She started to buck her hips making it hard to keep with her but by then she was too far gone. She gave one final drawn out groan and then she slumped onto the sofa completely drained. I moved back from her, seemingly forgotten for a moment or two, and tried to come to terms with what I had just done. Finally, Gemma recovered herself and got back to her feet. 

“You’re a mess. Go and get yourself cleaned up.”

I dashed to the bathroom and leaned over the sink. I wanted to be ill but all that would come was a series of dry, painful, heaves. With tears in my eyes I filled the bowl with water and then viciously scrubbed at my face with paper napkins until my skin was red. Now I was ready for a fight but first I needed my clothes. 

I came back into the office to find it empty but there was a note from Gemma on the PC. It simply told me that she would be out for the rest of the day. I was seething with anger as I got myself dressed and more so when I tried to telephone Jenny only to find that, she too, was unavailable. I attempted to do some work but I found it impossible to concentrate and so at lunchtime I locked up and went home. The first thing I did was to re-read the partnership deed. It was simple enough and, on the face of it, easy enough to get out of. In so doing I would still have to bear my share of the existing liabilities but these amounted to next to nothing. I thought about trying to catch Gemma at home but thought better of it. I would confront her with the dissolution of the partnership in the office and threaten her with assault charges. 

The following morning, as I got myself ready, I felt strangely calm; I knew what Gemma intended to try and I was fully prepared. The day before I had been caught off guard but that was not going to happen again.


A Binding Oral Agreement



I arrived early and composed myself for Gemma’s arrival but she breezed through the door with a cheery “Good morning!” as though nothing untoward had happened.

“Gemma, I want to talk about what happened yesterday.”

“Perhaps later. Diane Logan will be here shortly. She’s married but if I’ve read her correctly I think she is bi-curious. “

“Gemma! Take a seat and listen to me.”

“Do I sense a little rebellion? You wouldn’t be trying to defy me would you? Not when I need you to be a good dog.”

It was as if a cell door had closed with a slam and I was locked behind it with my futile anger. I tried to protest but I could not form the words and when that failed I tried to shut out what Gemma was saying but her words were soaking into me like water into a sponge. 

“Logan wants the best service but she only wants to pay a bargain basement price. You are going to get her to sign up at the top rate. You will do whatever it takes.”

I wanted to get up and run, to find somewhere to clear my head, but I could not sign up Logan if I was not in the office and, at that moment, signing her up seemed to be the most compelling issue in my life. 

It was a moment before I took it in that Gemma had left and then there seemed to be a blank in time before I was drawn back to reality by a tap at the door.

Diane Logan came into the room preceded by a waft of heavy floral perfume. She was a tall woman, broad hipped, with a large bosom which, in years to come, was clearly going to lose its fight with gravity. Her legs were her best feature and on this occasion she had brought out the best in them with high heels and a skirt that was an inch shy of her knees. I was shocked to realize I had not yet looked at her face. Normally, I would try and make eye contact immediately to try and make a client feel at ease. 

Logan put out her hand and I shook it before unthinkingly ushering her towards the sofa. Her file said that she was forty-four but her make up was skillfully applied and she could have easily passed for years younger. Her mistake was her hair. She wore her blonde hair styled in a tight perm that immediately added back the years she had gained with cosmetics. 

After some initial small talk we got down to business and I found myself enjoying the challenge. She had a shrewd business brain but I felt I was right in my assessment. She was prepared to sail closer to the wind than I would have felt comfortable with and I set about outlining a strategy which would give her what she wanted whilst still staying well within fiscal regulations. 

We had talked for ninety minutes, but it had seemed far fewer, before we arrived at the thorny issue of fees. 

“Let us be frank. I like what I’ve heard but we are talking a lot of money here and your fees are somewhat higher than I’ve been used to.”

I tried to interrupt but she leaned forward slightly putting a hand on my knee in the process.

“Hear me out. You strike me as a young woman deserving of my trust and I think that I will probably be able to sell the deal to my husband...”

I felt elated. Throughout the interview Gemma’s instructions had hovered threateningly in the background of my mind but now I had sealed the deal on the basis of my business acumen. 

“… however, if I’m going to pay premium rates, I’ll be looking for a little value added.” 

“Value added?”

I said it sotto voce whilst the adrenaline of fear made my heart race.

“Your partner said you were the best, but what made you special was the nature of the personal service you provide for your clients.”

As she said it she took her hand from my leg and, with hers eyes locked with mine, she pressed it 

against my blouse and rubbed the edge of her thumb across my breast. My breath caught in my throat and I remained frozen as, with deft fingers, she slowly unfastened a couple of buttons and slipped her hand inside.

“You’re a very beautiful young woman, but I guess a lot of people have told you that.”

She spooned her hand into the cup of my bra and eased it aside. I could immediately tell by the clumsy attention that she paid to my nipple that this was something new for her and I prayed that she would go no further. Unfortunately, in my attempts to overcome the suggestion that Gemma had placed in my mind my body shivered with effort and Logan must have misread this as a good sign.

“Does this do it for you angel?”

She carried on with her awkward mauling but then, with no subtlety at all, she pushed her hand up under my skirt and began to rub at my sex through my panties. 

“No! No! No!”

The words were clear and loud but my lips never moved and they echoed around hollowly in my mind. My whole body had tensed, to the extent that her attack on my sex had become physically painful, and I gave silent thanks when she stopped as suddenly as she had started. I sat still hoping that she could see in my eyes that I was an unwilling participant but I knew that the expression on my face was being governed by a part of my brain over which I no longer had control. 

“Let me take a look at you sweetie.”

I watched in dismay as she dropped to the floor in front of me. She began to ease my legs apart and then reached up to take hold of my panties. I willed myself to stay still but my traitorous limbs lifted me enough for her to divest me of my underwear. 

“You have lovely skin.”

She was brushing the inside of my leg with the back of her finger and my body began a new betrayal. I felt total revulsion but my unconscious was telling me that she would be pleased if she thought that she was arousing me. Almost immediately I felt my labia begin to swell and the unmistakable scent of my arousal began to permeate the room.

“My, my, you’re a hot little thing aren’t you?”

She had her head between my legs but she seemed to be battling with herself. After a momentary hesitation she turned aside and pecked an almost chaste kiss on my inner thigh.

“Don’t take this wrong honey, but I don’t think this is what I really want.” 

I almost fainted with relief and, as she got back to her feet, I quickly closed my legs, retrieved my panties and adjusted my skirt. My mind refocused itself on the business at hand and I began to speak as though the last few moments had never happened.

“I can let you have a summary by tomorrow and we should be able to get a draft contract ready for your consideration by the end of the week.”

She flashed me an indulgent smile.

“We can finish discussing the arrangements afterwards.”

I was just wondering what “afterwards” meant when, with a sickening lurch, I saw that she was removing her skirt. She had pale, solid, thighs given emphasis by the dark blue garter straps that held up her stockings and she stood for a moment, as though to be admired. 

“Kneel down here and I’ll make myself comfortable.” 

Once again my zombie limbs followed their own course and I found myself kneeling by the sofa as she removed her panties and sat back down. She registered my shock as she slowly parted her legs.

“I prefer to keep things au naturelle.” 

The first surprise was that she was not a natural blonde. The second was the unruly growth of thick dark hair that covered her pubis and spread to her inner thighs. It seemed so incongruous. She was clearly a woman who took a lot of pride in her appearance and spent money on expensive designer clothes to bring out the best in herself. It all seemed so at odds with the savage sight that now presented itself.

“Come on baby, I know you like it … eat me.”

As she said it she opened her legs even further to reveal her thick, dusky pink, labia which were already glistening with moisture. The battle being fought in my head manifested itself as a throbbing pain but, yet again, I was on the losing side. My body leant forward even as I tried to draw it back and, as I got closer, I could smell where she had dabbed perfume on the inside of her legs, the floral scent contrasting markedly with her own natural, earthy, essence. 

“Such a pretty mouth …”

I already had my tongue out and I proceeded to lick her labia which seemed so rough when compared to Gemma’s almost coy offering. Her taste, too, was stronger and I guessed that she had been aroused for quite some time. 

“Put your tongue inside baby, I like it nice and deep.”

I moved down slightly to do as she asked and she was so wet with arousal and lost in her own pleasure that she did not notice the tears of distress that flowed down my cheeks. I pushed my tongue as deep as I could and then licked upwards. Only then did I realize how difficult it must have been for Sebastian when I insisted that he pay attention to my g spot but it had the same effect on Logan as it had on me. 

“Oh YESSssss! Just there…”

My mouth was full of her matted hair and I was almost choking but I struggled on. My tongue was at full stretch and the effort was causing tiny muscular spasms which Logan seemed to find to her liking.

“SOOooo nice…don’t stop”

Just to make sure she put her hand to the back of my head to keep me in place and then, without warning, she started to come. To my disgust I found my mouth filled with sprays of moisture which I had little option but to swallow and this too seemed to please her.

“There’s a good girl…”

She held me to her until she had wrung out the last drops of pleasure and then let me go. I knelt there with my face hot, red and wet with a mixture of my own perspiration and her moisture and tried to work some life back into my sore tongue. When I eventually looked up it was to find that she had freed her breasts and was gently caressing her nipples.

“Come up here honey and lick them for me.”

I told myself that I had already done enough to please her but the dissenting phantom in my mind told it that it was not my choice to make. She leant forwards to present herself and I knelt up to meet her. Her breasts sat heavily in her hands; the nipples were dark brown with no distinct shape and the teats themselves seemed impossibly erect. As I took it into my mouth I was surprised by the slightly salty taste and the rubbery texture of the dimpled flesh. Once again I was guided my own preferences. I worked my tongue in a tight circle around the teat which, amazingly, seemed to become more engorged. 

Logan petted my head and encouraged my efforts making me alternate between them every minute or two.

“Suck them…”

I did as she asked and compounded my own misery. The more I pleased her the more she wanted. 

I began to draw her nipple between my teeth and nipped gently. This always stirred me up when it was done to me and so it proved for Logan.

“You little tease…I think I’m ready again now.”

She was pressing me down until I was, once again, faced with the matted mess that her sex had become.

Chapter 2 

Logan was insatiable. By the time she had finished with me my knees were numb and my whole face ached but her parting words echoed chillingly in my memory.

“Send me the contract and I’ll sign it. I’m really looking forward to a long and fruitful relationship…sweetlips.”

The office was empty and I assumed that Gemma had gone out to lunch. I noticed this with an enormous sense of relief and knew then that I was afraid of her. With a renewed sense of determination

I set off across town to make the short trip to Jenny’s office only to find that she too was out at lunch and it was not known what time she would be back. The helpful receptionist offered me the assistance of another partner but I politely declined. 

I went back to my flat and began to unload my car. I had crammed into it as many files as I could so that, for the time being at least, I could keep the business running from home. The first thing I did was to make a list to see which clients were likely to stay with me after the split. It was tempting to make a few phone calls to sound people out but I decided that it was better not to open myself up to a charge of poaching before the dissolution of the partnership. 

The finished list looked quite healthy and I felt quite excited at the prospect of being a sole practitioner; the whole partnership arrangement had been a wrong move from the outset. Before going to sleep that night I decided that I need never see Gemma again. I felt an almost overwhelming urge to do her harm but common sense prevailed. Jenny could handle the paperwork and we could go our separate ways.

The next morning I rose as usual and thought about the day ahead. I was still ordering events in my mind when I realized that I was standing at the door of Gemma’s office. It was a terrifying moment. I had gone through my usual routine, shower, dress, breakfast but then I intended to work from my living room. Somehow, whilst pre-occupied, I had followed my routine through to its usual conclusion and driven into work. 

“Come on in.”

With an ominous prescience Gemma had opened the door to usher me inside. 

“I’m leaving.”

I said it with as much conviction as I could muster but Gemma merely smiled. She stepped back into the room and I followed her without thinking.

“I spoke to Logan. You really made an impression. Do you know that when she signs she’ll be our third largest client? I’ve drawn up a list of other prospective female clients. You might want to cast your eye over it. I’ve ticked those where I think your particular talents can be brought to bear.”

I was dumbfounded. The list had a dozen names on it, at least half of which were ticked, including that of one of my oldest friends.

“Gemma, this has to stop and it stops right now!”

“Do you think so? If that’s the case what are you still doing here?”

She was right. For a vain moment I entertained the hope that I was free of her influence but, try as I might, I could not leave her office knowing that to do so would incur her displeasure. I tried another tack.

“You can’t believe that all these women are lesbians.”

“I don’t, but they are all successful, broad-minded women and I ask myself, if I were to offer them the services of a pretty girl, willing to do literally anything they asked, would they turn it down?”

It was hard to argue. There were at least two women on the list that I thought of as unscrupulous bitches who would probably jump at the opportunity and, in an odd moment of self-doubt, I wondered what my own reaction would be if the offer were made to me. For an instant I felt faint and I wondered if I was losing my grip on sanity but just as I tried to drag myself back to reality Gemma pushed me to the edge once more.

“I’m going to spend the morning catching up on paperwork and I want you to help.”

I answered almost defiantly.

“I have two clients coming in.”

“I took the liberty of cancelling them. I have need of your expertise.”

My professional ego was flattered for barely a second before I saw her starting to unzip her skirt.

“Gemma, please, if our relationship means anything to you, don’t do this.”

She did not reply. She simply smiled as she took off her panties.

“Come here and kneel under the desk.”

“Gemma, for pities sake!”

“It looks a little like a kennel don’t you think? Just the place for a good dog.”

Any final vestiges of defiance melted like ice and I crawled into the restricted space beneath her desk almost like the dog she had made me become. She sat down on her leather office chair and rolled it forward until she could splay her legs on either side of my cramped body. 

“Just keep me on the boil for a couple of hours and then you can show me some of those wicked tricks that Logan told me about.”

I suppose it should not have come as such a shock to find out that they had discussed the merits of my performance but it did nevertheless. I knelt there, unmoving, trying to take it in until I felt her knee pressing against the side of my head.

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

I edged forward in the darkness, between the canyon walls of her thighs, and I applied my tongue to her sex. She was almost fully aroused from the start and she allowed herself an orgasm within the first few minutes but she took no pity. For the next two hours, as she rustled through paperwork above me, I was called back to service time and time again. She did not even miss a beat as she took the occasional phone call. My muscles were screaming in protest, not least my neck, but Gemma just laughed as I banged my head on the underside of the desk from time to time. 

“Okay, you can take me the whole way this time.”

The atmosphere beneath the desk was hot and fetid. The smell was a heady mix of ancient wood, sex and, to my embarrassment, nervous perspiration but, once again, I put myself to the hated task. 

“OOOhhh, that is so good…I think we’re going to have to reschedule your mornings for the foreseeable future.”

By lunchtime even Gemma had had enough. She dismissed me as though I was a servant of old and I went back to my own office where I could do nothing but sit and cry. She did not speak to me again until mid afternoon when she popped her head around the door.

“I’m off for the day. See you tomorrow, bright and early…keep your strength up.” 

Once she was gone I felt something of my old resilience creeping back and I was inspired by a new idea. I found a phone number for the pub we had used for our celebration drink and spoke with the manager. He told me that the stage hypnotist was a late replacement sent by the agency that dealt with all his bookings. He was happy to give me a contact name and I made a second call. At first the agency was not forthcoming but when I suggested that I was a booker for the lucrative University circuit there was a sudden change of attitude. I was told that the hypnotist’s name was Helen Heller and she was new to their books. They would not give me a number nor would they pass on mine to her, presumably fearing a direct booking which would cut out their fee, but I had enough to be going on with. 

I checked with Equity, the actors union, and, sure enough, she was a member. I left my contact number and, less than an hour later, I received a call. When I heard her voice on the phone it felt oddly comforting, like talking to someone I had known all my life. I explained that I had a personal matter that I wished to discuss and she sounded slightly intrigued when I refused to elaborate over the phone. She told me that she would see me that evening and gave me address which was only ten minutes away from my own by car. 

I bathed and changed, all the while considering the wisdom of my proposed course of action, and then I summoned up my courage and left the house. The address she had given me belonged to a detached house the upkeep of which must have been beyond the means of a mere pub entertainer. I rang the bell and looked up to the security camera mounted in the corner of the entranceway. A few seconds later the front door opened and I had to do a double take to convince myself that it was the same women. At the pub I thought that she was a lot older than me but seeing her again, with her chestnut hair hanging loose about her shoulders I could see that there was probably only a couple of years between us at most. The business suit, too, had done her no favours. Dressed as she now was in an expensive silk kimono I could see that she had a body that any man would find desirable.

“Take a seat.”

She led me into a tastefully furnished living room which was dominated by a matching pair of leather Chesterfield sofas. 

“Would you like a drink? I was having some wine.”

I accepted the offer and the first sip was enough to tell me that this was a woman who appreciated the good things in life.

“So to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I saw the show at the pub the other night. You put me under.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well since then I have remained susceptible to suggestion.”




A Binding Oral Agreement



“What makes you think so?”

“A friend, who was with me, tried the “good dog” command and it still worked.”

“In what way?”

I tried to choose my words carefully.

“She made me do things against my will.”

Heller raised an amused eyebrow.

“What sort of things?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“If you’re asking for my help, you’re going to have to be open with me.”

“Look, I thought that you couldn’t make a person do anything under hypnosis that was against their will.”

“That’s the commonly held belief. So would I be right in guessing that these things she made you do were of a sexual nature?”

I hesitated before replying.

“Yes.”

“This intrigues me. You strike me as a woman of the world; what could it be in the sexual arena that you wouldn’t enjoy?”

The conversation was not going at all as I had planned it in my mind.

“What if she had made me submit to a man against my will?”

“Some women secretly fantasize about non-consensual sex. Is that what she made you do?”

“No. I was just trying to make a point.”

“Well, if you force me to guess, you are a very beautiful woman, would this be something of a Sapphic nature?”

I felt my cheeks flush but it was as much with anger as with embarrassment. She was being altogether too presumptuous.

“I see from your face that it was. I take it then that sex with other women is not to your taste?

I find that a great pity.”

As she said it she crossed her legs allowing the kimono to slide open with an almost imperceptible hiss. My anger threatened to get the better of me.

“She forced me to go down her against my will.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m bloody sure! I want you to put things right.”

“And what would be in it for me?”

She parted her legs slightly and I could not stop myself from glancing downwards; by the time I brought my eyes back to hers I knew that, beneath the kimono, she was naked.

“I’m not here to bargain. If you’re not prepared to help me I’ll find someone who will and then I’m going to report this whole incident to the police.”

She seemed totally unfazed by my tirade.

“There are two commonly held misconceptions about hypnotism. The first is that hypnotists are bound by a strict code of ethics, as though they inhabit a higher moral plane than the population at large, I’m here to tell you that this is not true. The second is this nonsense about not doing things against your will; if a hypnotist is given long enough a subject can be made to do almost anything. It can even be done subliminally. I could, for example, send you a series of e-mails with a suggestion buried in the text. I would then only have to meet you face to face in order to flick the switch.”

As she spoke a hideous realization dawned. Some weeks previously Gemma told me that she was reading a report from America concerning customer service. From time to time she had e-mailed to me parts of the text which she thought might be of interest. At the time I had scanned it and dismissed it as complete nonsense but now some of the phrases used come back to me. I remembered “Degrees of Humility”, “The Bended Knee Principal” and “The Customer Comes First.”

“You’ve done this to me deliberately!”

“Clever girl.”

“Did she pay you?”

In answer to my question she cast her eyes around the room.

“My services are both unique and expensive.”

“I’m going to the police.”

“No. I want you to go upstairs, you’ll find the bedroom to the right, get yourself completely undressed and wait for me.”

Her voice had a calm authority and assurance, like someone in the medical profession, and I got up and left the room. Once in the hall my anger rose again and I went straight out through the front door and headed for my car contemplating legal action as I went. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that it came as a shock when I found myself in a luxuriously appointed bedroom with my car key in my hand. I was appalled by my tenuous grasp on reality and I desperately searched my fevered mind for an anchor point. I then realized that everything would be alright if I got undressed. 

I was lying naked on the bed when she walked in the room. She smiled when she saw me and pulled up a chair.

“I want to watch you masturbate.”

Somehow, I knew her request was offensive but I became aware of a tingling between my legs and it suddenly seemed perfectly natural to rub at the irritation. As soon as I moved my hand between my legs I felt more relaxed and, seconds later, my fingers began to flex and stroke in an all too familiar fashion.

“Open your legs and raise your knees.”

I did as she asked but it was almost like an out of body experience. On one level I found the lasciviousness of the situation ever more arousing but at a higher, imprisoned, level I was appalled. I continued to finger myself lazily and was surprised by just how quickly my fingers had become slicked with my own juices. I followed my own natural inclination and groaned softly as I slowly pushed them inside.

She sat quietly and watched as, over the next few minutes, I brought myself ever closer.

“I don’t want you to come yet.”

As soon as she said it I felt the wave of pleasure immediately begin to recede and no amount of effort on my part could get me back to the peak. I worked my fingers ever faster but only grew more frustrated. I was so lost in my own quest for satisfaction that I did not notice her leaving the chair. I only became aware of her again when the mattress yielded to her added weight. I opened my eyes to find her kneeling up over me. She was wearing an elaborate harness around her hips and thighs from which protruded a horribly realistic rubber phallus. It was cast in black and of a size that most men would have been proud of. As she held it just above my face I could see every tiny detail from the retracted foreskin to the gnarled vein running along the underside.

“Get it wet for me.”

She slowly pushed it between my lips and some deep-seated instinct balked at the violation and, for a moment, I flexed my jaw ready to bite down with all my strength but as quickly as the thought was formed it disappeared. I accepted the shaft which was more flexible than it at first appeared and I began to lick as though it was the real thing.

“You’ve done this before. A regular ten dollar whore.”

I knew that it had a strong rubbery tang but in my fevered mind I could only taste the tart, salty, taste of a man. As I lay there she used her hand to work the shaft around inside my mouth and I realized that it was, in fact, double ended; as she played with me she was stimulating herself.

She grew tired of the game after a minute or two and moved to straddle my hips. My heart was pounding both with anticipation and with fear at what I now knew was to come. 

“Kiss me.”

She leant down and turned her head slightly so that our lips met and, at the same time, she eased her legs between mine so that I could feel the shaft pressing insistently at my groin. My eyes darted across hers as I tried to convey my distaste but I sensed that it was my stymied unwillingness that really excited her. Her lips were softer than any mans and her gentle breath was wine sweet but it made it no easier to accept. She sealed our mouths and I felt her tongue begin to probe gently and my own quickly joined it in play.

“MMmmm…”

She allowed me to become the aggressor and seemed pleased as I thrust my tongue between her lips and took the lead. I did not want this, and perhaps I was only trying to delay the inevitable, but, if so, it was in vain. Without breaking the kiss she brought her hand down between our legs and lifted her hips slightly. There was a brief moment of pain as she initially got it wrong but then I felt the pressure of the smooth head at my opening.

“Take it for me …”

She relaxed and let her weight bear down so that, inch by inch, she pushed the shaft home. I had an irrational fear that it was not going to stop, that I was going to be totally impaled, but, finally, our bodies joined and I felt it filling me. 

For the next few minutes she seemed content just to kiss but then she began to fidget and soon she was moving hers hips gently and I could feel the shaft moving millimeters at a time. She was in no great hurry. For the next half an hour she carried on kissing whilst exploring my nipples with her knowledgeable fingers and the whole time she kept up a regular and ever deeper rhythm. A part of me was amazed at her stamina. I had known men who could stay hard for that long but I did not know of one who bear his own weight and keep up this sort of tempo but, in the final analysis, the longer it went on the greater my revulsion grew.

What made it worse was the way my body continued to react beyond my will. My nipples remained stiffly engorged encouraging her ministrations and my sex was a warm pool yearning to come to the boil. I had a vain hope that, if only I could come, I might regain control but it was only to be with her permission and her cruel smile told me that she could read my every thought. 

“I need to come… but not like this.”

So saying, she slowly withdrew, and I could not help mewing in frustration. I feared that she had another use for my mouth but her next words made my blood run cold.

“Turn over.”

Blind panic almost broke me free.

“NO!”

For a second she seemed shocked by my rebellion but it was all too easy.

“Good dog.”

Those simple words shackled me as sure as iron and she watched with growing amusement as my body shook with effort as I tried not to do as she asked. I could not help myself but once I was lying face down I clamped my whole body as tightly as I could. She got up off the bed and moved around so that I could see her and then, with frightening casualness, she began to apply lubricant to the already glistening shaft.

“You’re a virgin?”

The question was rhetorical.

“How very sweet.”

Sebastian had pestered me for anal sex in the past but I had steadfastly refused. At the finish I presented him with crudely formed dildo. I told him that on the day he presented himself to me with it fully embedded in his arse would be the day I said yes. He never mentioned it again.

Now, I wish I had let him. At least then I would have had some degree of control for my first time.

“Relax, and lift yourself.”

My muscles were so tight it was hard to obey but, finally, the tension eased and she was able to slip a pillow under my hips. I lay there, my body arched, awaiting my fate. 

“Don’t worry. It’s not so bad. You might come to like it.”

With that, she moved out of sight and then I felt her on the bed behind me. 

“Tears? Surely not.”

I felt her hands on my backside. She still had some lubricant left on her fingers and she began to work it deep into the cleft. In my mind my buttocks were so tightly clenched that it was painful. In reality she was peeling me apart. I winced as I felt the shaft bump up against me but my fate was assuredly sealed. 

Even under her influence, the natural reaction of my body was to resist but she applied the head of the shaft to my puckered rosette and gently turned it back and forth. The feeling of disgust is impossible to describe and I felt, somehow, unclean. She continued in the same unhurried fashion until I had to relax for a second in order to retrench. She read the moment to perfection, she had probably been waiting for it, because as soon as my guard was down she applied just a little more pressure. She pushed the head of the shaft barely into the opening and held it there. It was enough. With her weight behind it there was no way that I could expel the intruder and she knew it.

“Okay baby, here it comes.”

In those next few seconds I felt as though I was being cleaved in two. She slowly leant her weight into me and the shaft slipped in until I could take no more. Behind me she gave a heartfelt moan and then she spooned herself into me and began to nuzzle my neck. I tried to summon the will to resist, to throw her off, and was filled with self loathing when I failed. Surely this act, of all the things she could have chosen to do, should have galvanized me. Later, when the nightmares came, I understood that she could have programmed me to enjoy it but she chose not to. This was simply about her pleasure, and my discomfort, both mental and physical, was an essential element.

She lifted herself from me and purposefully took hold of my hips. I braced myself but it was not as bad as I feared. She began to work the shaft in and out of me but she did it with a practiced assurance and seemed to understand my limits. How anyone could find it pleasurable was beyond me unless pleasure was to be found in submission or the vicarious gratification of a partner. Fortunately, it was very much to her liking, and she drove the shaft in to the hilt once last time as she welcomed her climax with an uncharacteristically piercing shriek.

It almost felt worse when she withdrew altogether. I could still feel the phantom of the shaft inside me and my muscles seemed reluctant to work normally again. As soon as she got up from the bed I sat up with my knees drawn up under my chin. She looked at me as she slowly slipped out of the harness and then held up the shaft for her own inspection. It glistened with moisture and I would not have been surprised to see it giving off steam such had been the power of her climax.

“Clean it for me.”

Once again, she fed the shaft into my mouth but this time there was no mistaking the taste. It was a taste with which I had become unpleasantly familiar of late. 

“Can you deep throat?”

She could see the uncertainty in my eyes. I had tried it once but vowed never again. I had not found the experience pleasant and, to my mind, it had undertones of servility. Now she was pushing gently but insistently at the shaft.

“Do it for me… or I’ll have you clean the whole thing.”

The threat was enough. I relaxed my throat muscles and started to breathe through my nose. The hardest part is to overcome the bodies natural gag reflex but she had obviously had some experience. She paused at the right moment and then continued until I had taken it all.

“Clever girl.”

She let me suffer for a few seconds and then eased if free but she still insisted that I continue to suckle it whilst she spoke quietly.

“Do you read Asimov? His first law of robotics?... “A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.” When you leave here you will do nothing that might harm either Gemma or me. This obviously includes going to the police.”

Even as she said it I determined to defy her but I was confounded as soon as I left her house. Once I had served to amuse her she allowed me to leave and I stood on the pavement knowing there was something I desperately needed to do but, try as I might, I could not bring it to mind. In the end I got into my car and drove back to my flat. 

At home I could not get my thoughts in order. I was now not only being compelled to please Gemma but I was looking out for her wellbeing too even though it adversely affected my own. Whichever way I twisted it in my head I was always drawn to the same conclusion, I had to go to the police, but as soon as the thought was formed I found myself starting to daydream and then I was back to square one.

The worst of it was knowing that, the following morning, I was going to be drawn back to the office.

It was in the middle of the night that I had an inspiration. Gemma had implanted the idea that I had to go to work as usual but “work as usual” would include client visits. The first thing the next morning I rang Gemma’s office phone knowing that I would get the answering machine. I left a message saying that I had to see Jenny and that I would be in later.When I got into my car I was elated to find that I knew exactly what I was doing. I drove over to Jenny’s office which involved going in the opposite direction to my normal route and I felt no compulsion to turn around. Arriving without an appointment I was told that Jenny was working from home but even that seemed a good omen. I was not exactly sure what I would, or could, say to her but I was sure to feel more at ease outside of the office.

I felt a little guilty when she opened the door to me still in her in her nightgown and I realized it 

was still before nine o’clock. The smell of freshly brewed coffee permeated the air and she invited me through to the living room where she had to clear piles of legal files from the sofa before we could be seated. I was not sure, in my own mind, if I wanted to speak to her as a friend or as a lawyer but as she sat there with her legs curled under her, wrapped in her toweling robe, the atmosphere was anything but formal. 

“So to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The small talk was over and there seemed little point in prevaricating.

“I want to dissolve the partnership.”

“So soon?”

The smile on her face told me that she thought it was a joke.

“I’m serious. It was a mistake from the beginning.”

She paused for thought before speaking.

“You know I can’t act for you both. One of you will have to appoint another solicitor.”

The thought had not crossed my mind and it raised a quandary. Jenny and I had attended the same University where she had graduated one year later than me. I never made her acquaintance there but I was aware of her as almost everyone was. The vivacious red-headed Irish girl with the startling green eyes was a man magnet and she evoked no small measure of jealousy, and it was not just her face. She had a curvy, thirties film starlet, figure which she showed off to maximum effect.

I had been totally surprised to meet up with her again later. I was in need of legal counsel on a particularly thorny contract issue and Gemma had made the recommendation on the strength of some work that Jenny had already done for her. I now thought of her as a friend but it never occurred to me that Gemma might have a greater claim on her loyalty. She could see my dilemma and then she dropped her bombshell. 

“It might be for the best if I act for Gemma given that you were going to dump me anyway.”

I did not know what to say. I had spoken to Gemma just a few days previously. I had huge ambitions for the partnership and I was not sure, in the long term, whether or not Jenny and her firm were going to be right for us. I had suggested that we retain her for personal matters but put out some feelers to see who else might be available. Gemma had not seemed averse to the idea but now it seemed she had spoken to Jenny unbeknownst to me.

I was still struggling for a reply when the doorbell rang.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

There was a sound business argument, all I had to do was lay my cards on the table and let Jenny see the logic. I composed myself but was immediately disconcerted when Jenny walked back into the room accompanied by Gemma.

“Well, well, who have we here?”

“You were right she wants to dissolve the partnership.”

“Gemma, it’s for the best, for both of us.”

“How could you think so? Did you not think that it would displease me? Besides, I’ve already made two appointments for you and both ladies have agreed that it might be for the best if you conducted the meetings at their homes.”

The inference was not lost on me but Jenny’s next remark startled me.

“Is it true then? Does she really do it?”

“Oh yes, she’s developing quite a talent. Would you like to see?”

I felt my world caving in. Not only had she made Jenny privy to my degradation she was prepared to demonstrate it.

“Please, Gemma, not now. Let’s go back to the office and discuss this.”

“Don’t be silly, we don’t have any secrets from Jenny, do we?”

I looked imploringly in Jenny’s direction but I saw a look of excited curiosity in her eyes that told me that there would be no help from that quarter.




A Binding Oral Agreement



“Kneel down.”

“Oh my God!”

The exclamation came from Jenny as I fell to my knees and Gemma stepped forward. She flipped her skirt over my head and stood with her legs slightly apart. 

“Lick me.”

She was wearing tight sheer panties that were already moist with anticipation and, as I licked, it was as though the essence of her was being distilled. Her dark curls gave the panties a spongy softness but, after a moment of two, the material began to make my tongue sore. 

“How long will she keep it up?”

“For as long as I wish. After all, what choice does she have?”

They were discussing me as though I were not in the room and all the time the increasing sense of claustrophobia grew as I laboured in the darkness. 

“Have you ridden her face?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I do it to all my boyfriends. It let’s them know their place.”

“Show me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Never more so.”

Gemma stepped back exposing my perspiring red face to the light.

“Make her lie on her back.”

“She’ll do whatever you tell her to do. She’s such a good dog she’ll do anything to please you.”

Jenny looked dubious, and the more so when she saw the panic in my eyes, but any reservations she may have had were short-lived. 

“Lie there, on the floor.”

“Jenny, please, this isn’t right.”

The faintest hint of a scowl crossed her face and that was enough. The switch closed in my mind and I immediately lay down on the floor. 

“Do you mind if I make myself comfortable?”

She did not wait for Gemma’s reply and casually removed her robe beneath which she was totally naked. My eyes were drawn up along the length of her long legs to her freckle dusted upper body where her breasts were heavy globes surmounted with cherry red nipples which were already distended. She was aware of my gaze and, with a movement of her hand she dragged my eyes towards her pubis, where she brushed her fingers casually across the immaculately trimmed red thatch which covered her sex. She let her fingers linger for a moment and I sensed that the show was as much for Gemma’s benefit as for mine and I wondered if there was more to Jenny than met the eye.

“Lift your head.”

She broke my train of thought as she took a cushion from the sofa and slipped it under my head and I felt a knot of fear tightening in my stomach. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Gemma take a seat, the better to enjoy the show, and then my whole attention was focused on the junction between Jenny’s legs as she stepped over me so that she was straddling my shoulders and facing down my body. She had a sense of the theatrical and she remained still for a few seconds allowing the tension in the room to increase and with it my heart rate. I gritted my teeth but my treacherous tongue was already readying itself.

Finally, she joined her hands at the back of her head and lifted the hair from the nape of her neck. At the same time she unlocked her knees and she began to slowly descend with a gracefulness that would have been the envy of an Olympic gymnast. I made a superhuman effort to turn my head aside but her calves were already pressed against the sides of my head, holding me in place, as her rounded buttocks came down to form the lid of my living coffin. 

To start with she stayed poised, scant millimeters above my face, so that I could feel the heat radiating from her but then she began to move ever so slightly, in a tight circle, wafting her scent over me. I had never noticed before but she exuded a natural imperiousness and I imagined the men she had used this way in the past; she knew exactly how to play it, how to draw out the anguish of her prey. I could feel perspiration beading my brow but then there was a new wetness. Her fingers were at her sex, rubbing gently but insistently, and every few seconds another drop of sticky moisture dripped onto my face. I felt disgusted and degraded but this was only the prelude. After a couple of minutes of preparation she spread her knees a little more so that she was actually touching my face. She was like an artist carefully preparing a canvas. She brushed lightly using her buttocks to spread moisture evenly over my face. Nothing was missed. She brushed over my nose and my mouth and I was forced to close my eyes as she worked up and across my forehead. 

I wanted to lick her, to spare myself anything worse, but now my mind had registered exactly what was to come, what she intended to do to please herself, I had no choice but to acquiesce. She gave one last wriggle and then with a load groan she opened her legs and her weight bore down. My head was pressed deep into the cushion and the next desperate breath that I took filled my lungs with her essence. She paused for a moment to let me get used to the burden but I could not overcome the panic. She was no lightweight and her buttocks were spread across my face plunging me into a stifling darkness. 

It was obvious that she had been telling the truth when she said she had played the game before. She waited until my body began to twitch, until I reached the point of involuntary rebellion, and then she began to move. As she cleared my mouth I drew another gasping breath but I was inhaling moisture and I had to fight to keep from choking. After that her movements were both assured and measured. She worked her way back and forth across my face from my forehead to my chin. She kept her legs still and shifted her weight through her pelvis in a powerful pistoning action. As I struggled to hang on I could hear her urging herself on and she began to move faster rasping my face painfully with her pubis. By the finish there was no pretence at self control. She was grinding herself down taking her pleasure in any way she could until finally she came to a complete stop. She cried out as her climax ripped through her and I could feel her sex pulsating as she savoured ever last tremor. Even when it was over she was content to rest on my face until she had recovered sufficient control of her legs to enable her to dismount. 

“That was awesome. Do men find that arousing?”

“Some do, most don’t, but frankly, who cares?”

I listened to their exchange as I tried to reanimate my face muscles and noticed that Jenny had seated her self next to Gemma with her legs brazenly spread. 

“Come here.”

The tone of command seemed to come naturally to Jenny and I found myself doing as she asked without thinking. I stayed on my knees and shuffled between her legs to the spot that she was indicating.

“Clean me up.”

Her pubis was a damp nest and her inner thighs were smeared with moisture but I did as I was told. I put out my tongue and over the next few minutes I worked my way over every messy inch cleaning her as best I could. Just when I thought I had finished she brought her fingers down to her sex and held herself open.

“Do it.” 

We both knew what she meant and I pushed my tongue between her swollen labia and toiled to bring her to another climax. At some point she leaned a little closer to Gemma and I was shocked to see a tentative kiss exchanged. Jenny was clearly taking the lead and she drew Gemma’s hand across to her exposed breast. I was so shocked that I almost forgot what I was doing but Jenny squeezed my head with her thighs.

“Don’t stop.”

There was no doubt that Gemma was uneasy but it was this very unease that excited Jenny and tripped her over the edge for a second time. Gemma moved away from her as Jenny pulled me more tightly to her sex and let herself go. 

When it was over she reached her hand towards Gemma’s but Gemma’s mind was made up. 

“I want to ride her face…”

Chapter 3

The following morning I woke in a cold sweat. I could not order my thoughts properly but I knew that I must not go into the office. I sat at the breakfast table drinking strong coffee hoping that my heightened alertness would help with my self control but, as it approached the time that I would normally leave for the office, I found myself starting to cry. It was not self-pity but instead a realization that the longer I sat there the more upset Gemma would be. It suddenly seemed so unreasonable for me to hurt her in that way and I felt so much happier with myself as soon as I took the decision to leave. Whilst driving in vague memories of the previous day’s events took shape in my mind and with them came an almost overwhelming sense of shame but it was all overshadowed by a recollection that somehow I had angered Gemma. When I got to the office she was already there and as soon as I saw her I became aware of a dull ache about my face and head.

“How are you feeling?”

“A little confused.”

“You’ll be fine now that you’ve got rid of any foolish notions about breaking up the partnership…”

She was right. Just those few simple words somehow made me feel altogether better.

“However, I have to say that I was angry with you, that you of all people would want to betray me…”

I went from calm to despair in the blink of an eye. I could not think why I should ever want to be disloyal to her. 

“I have to go away overnight and so you’ll be alone here. I’ve decided that you need someone to keep an eye on you. She’s waiting in your office and you will endeavour to please her as you would me.”

She was treating me like an errant schoolgirl but a part of my mind told me that I was deserving of it. She looked back down at the paperwork on her desk and I was dismissed without a word. I walked through to my office assuming that I would find Jenny there, after all, who else could it be, but as I walked through the door my heart went cold.

Sitting in my chair, with her bare feet up on the desk, was Chloe, Gemma’s niece. In the next few seconds I recalled all the horrendous details of my previous encounter with her. She had been thrown out of school and Gemma had suggested that we help her out by giving her some temporary work. She turned out to be arrogant and conceited but worst of all she had not shown a spark of intelligence. Even the simplest of tasks seemed too taxing for her limited abilities. The one skill she did possess was an innate ability to get under peoples skin. In my case she picked up on my slightly prudish outlook on life and she would regale me details of her own sexual exploits which I dismissed as total fiction. In the sprit of friendship I put up with it for a week but then I had to draw the line. Gemma had fought Chloe’s corner but when I told her it was Chloe or me she knew she had no choice. 

I was still staring at her with a startled expression when she answered the unasked question. 

“Good morning, and yes, I do know all about you.”

If Gemma’s aim in seeking to teach me a lesson was to humiliate me then she could not have found a better method.

“First things first. Take off all your clothes and let me have them. I’ll keep them safely locked away.”

“Chloe, be serious. We may have got off on the wrong foot the first time round but there’s no reason why we shouldn’t get along for the next two days.”

“Oh we’ll get along just fine…as long as you do exactly as you’re told. Now, strip!”

I willed my hands to stay at my sides but I was a puppet with someone else pulling the strings. Less than sixty seconds later I handed my clothes to her and watched as she locked them in desk drawer. 

“Nice body. Now why don’t you pop out and fetch me a coffee, white, two sugars.”

“I can’t!”

“Of course you can. I know you’ll do anything to please me. Now run along.”

I turned from her and wondered how the hell I could do as she asked. The vending machine was across the hall in a kitchenette that we shared with two other offices. As I padded past Gemma’s office she looked up at me with a cruel smile but that was the least of my worries. I opened the front door and held it ajar as I checked out the corridor. There did not appear to be anyone around and I strained to hear if there was any activity in the kitchenette. Everything seemed quiet and so I loped across the five yard 

gap and there then followed the longest minute of my life as I waited for the coffee to vend. The return trip was necessarily slower carrying the hot drink but I made it back and closed the door behind me with a huge sigh of relief. I handed it to Chloe who made a pretense of spilling it before starting to laugh.

“Well done, but I will be getting through a lot of coffee in the course of the day.”

I groaned inwardly. I had been lucky the first time but it was certain that my luck would not hold indefinitely. She sipped her drink and made no move to vacate my seat leaving me to stand self consciously in front of the desk. Her very presence jarred my sensibilities. My office was a reflection of my personality, neat, well ordered and quietly comfortable and Chloe’s goth persona seemed so at odds with it. She was a beautiful girl but she tried to make a statement with her spiked black hair and heavy makeup. Even her clothes seemed designed to negate her enviable figure. She wore a short leather jacket over a white unironed blouse and an obscenely short kilted skirt.

“I want to see you put on a show.”

She opened the desk drawer and took out a brutally large vibrator. It was much bigger than the one I kept at home and it was so heavy that I almost dropped it as she passed it across. I stared at it mutely wondering what the hell she expected me to do with it. 

“Put it on the high setting and then I want to see you get it all the way in.”

As I switched it on the thing vibrated in my hands like a road drill. I wanted to throw it across the room but I drew it towards myself as though it were magnetized. I held it as steady as I could in both hands and then tentatively touched it between my legs. It beat against my sensitive skin like a tiny, manic, hammer and the sensation was painful but, at the same time, it had an immediate effect on my clitoris. There was no way that I could take the whole thing but I had to appear to try. I opened my legs a little wider and pressed the rounded head gently against my labia. For a second or two the pain increased but it was suddenly transmuted into a wave of pleasure which flashed across my whole body. Almost before I knew it I was pressing harder and the first two inches was inside me. I had never been so stretched and the vibrations literally shook me from head to toe. I heard Chloe laugh but I was lost in my own world of awareness. I worked the monster in and out by degrees to get myself wetter and then I took another couple of inches. At that point I think I had an orgasm but my body was not sated. I wanted it deeper still and in a state verging on delirium I stepped forward to the sofa. My legs were unsteady but I managed to straddle the arm of the sofa and I set the flat base of the vibrator down on it. After that, it was simply a matter of surrender. I let my leg muscles relax and slowly allowed the shaft to impale me. By the time it was buried to the hilt I was sweating freely and then I was hit by an orgasm the like of which I had never known. It took hold of me and refused to let go as I clenched my muscles so tightly around the shaft that it hurt. 

I do not remember much after that. When I finally got a grip on myself I found that I had collapsed onto the sofa and the vibrator was buzzing loudly on the floor.

“I think you ought to turn it off or we’ll have complaints for the tenants downstairs.”

I reached down and did as she asked still not quite able to believe what I had just done. 

“I’ll get you the name of the supplier.”

Her remark was intended to be flippant but as I stared at the monstrosity I wondered if I could ever be satisfied with anything of normal proportions ever again. 

“Right, now you’ve had your fun it’s time for mine. Watching you play the slut has got me all hot and bothered.” 

As I watched she stood up and slipped her panties down her otherwise bare legs. She stepped out of them and then sat down again with her legs widely spread. 

“Come here. You can start by licking my feet and working your way up. 

I must have made quite a sight. I could only get to my feet unsteadily. My hair felt lank, my make-up was beyond repair and I supposed that this was all part of her plan to totally degrade me. I knelt at her feet which smelt of trainers and stale talc but, perversely, I noted that her toenails were immaculately pedicured and varnished. 

Yet again, I felt as though I was outside of my own body watching someone else but now I was looking down on them in every sense. I felt repulsed that this person was prepared to demean themselves in this totally humiliating way and I wanted to tell them to stop but, somehow, I knew that it would be to no avail. I licked lightly across the top of her foot but she wanted more. 

“Lick my toes. I want to feel your tongue in between them.”

The voice of authority came naturally to her. She had obviously been a spoilt child, used to getting her own way, and the hint of petulance in everything she said worked deep on my subconscious. She was hard to please but I was compelled to try as hard as I could. The skin on her feet was mercifully soft but that made the task no less unedifying and she did not let me off lightly. Every few minutes she would take one foot away and present me with the other.

After about a quarter of an hour she picked up the phone.

Hi, Claudia, it’s me, I’m back.”

I felt my stomach lurch. Claudia was a young coloured woman who worked in the post room for the tenants on the first floor. She and Chloe had struck up a relationship whilst taking cigarette breaks outside of our no smoking building. I had had cause to complain not only because the breaks were getting progressively longer but because, once back in the office, they would immediately be on the phone to one another. At the finish I had lodged a complaint with Claudia’s supervisor.

“No, just for a couple of days….the bitch?...yeah, she’s still here…she’s licking my feet even as we speak…Don’t laugh, its true. No really. I’m sitting in her office with no panties and when I count to three she is going to start eating me out. One, two…three. 

Oh my God! She’s good. She really knows how to use her tongue. Shit, you can’t believe how horny I am, I’m dripping!...No, you don’t have to tell her, she just knows what to do. 

Oh yes! She’s working on my clit…Fuck, this is better than any guy! You still don’t believe me?

…Suck me out, I want my friend to hear …Of course it’s her…Oh Wo Wo!...She’s got her tongue right up inside….Yes! That’s it! Right there!...Oh fuck!...I’m going to come!...

Shit, that was a real gusher…No. Don’t stop…keep licking. Claudia? Can you sneak out for a couple of minutes?... No, not downstairs, come up here to the office.”

Chloe had lit up a cigarette, despite the prohibitions, and I was still licking slavishly at her sex when I heard the high pitched squeal behind me. 

“Yo bitch! You weren’t lying. Is she kinky or what!”

Chloe reveled in her mastery for a few more seconds and then replied.

“If you’ve got the time I’ll make her do you.”

“No shit!...but your aunt?...” 

“She’s cool. Come over here and take off your jeans.”

“Chloe, please, enough’s enough.”

My voice sounded pathetic even to my own ears.

“Ignore her. She’ll do just as she’s told.”

As she said it she got up from the chair and straightened her skirt and I tried to rise with her. 

“Stay right where you are. If you want to please me you’ll eat out my friend and make a fucking good job of it.”

“Oh. I have got to get me some of this.”

Claudia had already kicked off her trainers and had wrenched her tight jeans and panties down her legs in one piece. She almost tripped over herself in her haste and then fell into the seat so recently vacated by Chloe. 

“Ever tasted black pussy bitch?”

Claudia had the body of a female sprinter. As I knelt between her ebony thighs I could see her well developed leg muscles rippling in anticipation and then my eyes were inevitably drawn to her sex. 




A Binding Oral Agreement



Her pubic hair was immaculately razor cut into the shape of a heart and the tight black curls glistened with a scented oil. As she made herself more comfortable it became a broken heart with her pink inner lips forming a starkly contrasting slash and I found myself perversely wondering whether or not the taste would be any different from my experiences up to that point.

“You not started yet?”

I struggled desperately and in my imagination I saw myself getting to my feet and slapping her across her face for her temerity. In reality I was leaning inwards with the tip of my tongue already between my lips.

“Shit, she’s really doing it, she’s licking my pussy.”

Having established my submissiveness she elected for an altogether more direct approach. She twisted a hank of my hair painfully in her hand and pulled me more tightly against her sex.

“Get your tongue right in there.”

My mouth was already sore from my previous exertions but I did as I was told snaking my tongue deep inside her. Her muscles clutched at me, putting a painful strain on the root of my tongue, but I held my place. 

“This is fucking freaky. Give me a cigarette Chlo I think this is going to take a while.”

She lit up and then tapped me on the head.

“Show me what you can do…”

For the next few minutes I brought all my new found skills to bear as I tried to get it over with as soon as possible but, having got over her initial excitement, Claudia was in no hurry. She smoked a second cigarette and discussed her plans for the weekend shifting herself slightly every now and then to direct my attention to a particular spot. 

“Do my clit.”

She stubbed out her cigarette and used both hands to open herself. The smell of nicotine from her fingers almost made me vomit but then came the next shock. Her clitoris was enormous. It lolled from its fleshy hood like a miniature penis and, even as I looked, it seemed to swell. Were all coloured woman endowed in this way? I was given no time for contemplation.

“Suck it.”

I pursed my lips and sucked it gently into my mouth.

“Yesss…”

Claudia lifted her hips slightly, pushing herself at me, and I started to use my tongue. It was like licking the head of a tiny mushroom and it had an almost immediate effect. She started to swear under her breath and undulated her hips seeking more friction. Her sex was leaking and I was enveloped in her bitter sweet stench but I could not stop. As she started to come she bucked herself uncaringly against my face content to rub her clitoris wherever she could. By the time she finished my face was coated and I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

They gave me ten minutes respite and then they swapped places again. Over the course of that day and the next I lost count of the times that I was made to serve. The painful swelling in my knees was second only to the numbed and abused lump that my tongue had become. My sanity was seriously at risk but there was a single hopeful beacon on the horizon. When I got home on the second night there was message on my answering machine from Sebastian. He had wrapped up his latest business deal and was flying back the following afternoon. He did not like me to phone whilst he was away, he said it made him homesick, but on this occasion I broke the rule. I could not reach him direct but I left a message at his hotel asking him to meet me at my flat as soon as possible. 

The next morning I tried harder than ever not to go to the office but each time I contemplated an alternative course of action I found myself descending into a trough of despond. Life only seemed to have any meaning once I made the decision to go in. When I arrived it was to find Gemma sitting at my desk perusing my office diary. 

“Have you missed me? Still, I’m sure you’ve had fun with Chloe.”

My heart fell. The way she said it, and the cruel smile that now dressed her face, made me certain that she would be wanting some fun of her own now that she was back.

“You were going to take this afternoon off if Seb got back on time. Have you heard from him?”

I did not want to tell her. I had pinned all my hopes on confiding in Seb, if my conditioning would allow, and praying that he would come up with a solution. I tried to stay silent but she raised a questioning eyebrow and some inherent sense of good manners made me answer.

“Yes.”

“Is he going to your flat?”

After an anguished hesitation I answered. 

“I hope so.”

“Good, then I want you to invite me round.”

I felt my body start to shake and she must have read the terror in my expression. For a second or two she looked uneasy but then she said just two words.

“Good dog.”

I have no memory of the next quarter of an hour. When I next became aware Gemma was gone and I was sitting at my desk reviewing a client portfolio. I desperately racked my brains but nothing would come. For the next few hours I worked feverishly but with the constant fear that she would call me into her office. I was amazed that I could concentrate at all and I began to wonder if she had conditioned me to labour for the benefit of her prosperity in ways other than those which were totally loathsome.

In mid-afternoon the phone rang and I almost wept when I heard Sebastian’s voice. His flight was in and he was taking a taxi straight to the flat. I packed up quickly and walked briskly past Gemma’s office without looking in. 

Once back at the flat I had an anguished hour’s wait until his taxi finally arrived and the sense of relief when I saw him in the doorway made me smile like a schoolgirl meeting her latest film idol in the flesh. I ushered him in and his lips were on mine almost before the door was closed. On one memorable occasion, following a particularly lengthy business trip, we had not even made it out of the hall before shedding our clothes and getting down to it on the floor. As we stood there I could feel his burgeoning erection and feared that we might be overtaken by our passions once again.

“Seb, no …not here. Come through to the living room, we need to talk.”

He had that petulant look that Hugh Grant does so well but Sebastian was more George Clooney. He looked older than his years but with him it was very becoming. He took pride in his well muscled physique and seemed happy to live with the premature lines that gave his face so much of its character but I suspected that his vanity would lead him to the surgeon’s blade before too many more years passed.

Another thing he had in common with Hugh Grant was his thick, dark, hair, now shot through with the odd strand of silver, which he wore slightly too long and brushed away from his face in much the same manner. 

He held down a high-powered job, and projected a macho image to the world, but neither of us was in any doubt who was the dominant partner in our relationship. He was, therefore, surprised to find me so seemingly vulnerable. 

I sat him down on the sofa but, as I took his hands in mine, the doorbell rang. I knew who it was and I did not want to answer it but Sebastian looked at me curiously as it rang a second time and I continued to wrestle with myself. 

Finally, I gave in and went to the door and it was clear from the look on Gemma’s face that she was not happy to be kept waiting. 

“Hi Seb. Not seen you in a while.”

“Hi Gemma. No, I’ve been away.” 

As ever, they were cordial with one another but there was always a slight awkwardness. Sebastian was a client at our previous firm and Gemma had had eyes for him from the first but, as time went by, it became obvious that it was me that he was attracted to. At first I dismissed him as being too handsome for his own good, a man who could have any woman he wanted, but as I got to know him and began to appreciate his touching vulnerability, I changed my views.

Gemma sat down next to him on the sofa leaving me standing awkwardly.

“Is it too early for a drink?”

“No…of course…what will you have?”

I left them together whilst I went to open a bottle of wine. Gemma’s intrusion was both annoying and worrying. I knew there was more to it but the harder I tried to dredge it up from my subconscious the deeper it seemed to be buried. 

I set the glasses on the coffee table and took a seat opposite them in an armchair. 

“Was there something in particular that you wanted?”

Gemma looked at me in mock surprise.

“I was hoping you would tell me as I’m here at you invitation.”

For a second or two I was flustered and could not think what to say and my predicament was not helped by the look that Sebastian gave me. It spoke a thousand words and told me to get rid of her as soon as possible. 

Gemma let the awkward pause hang for a couple of seconds.

“Well, if it’s a private matter, perhaps we can discuss it at the office tomorrow. I guess you two love birds have far more pressing business…”

As she said it she casually patted Sebastian’s lap.

“…Well, well who’s a naughty boy?”

He looked at me uncertainly with a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. Gemma had left her hand resting on the crotch of his linen trousers and it was obvious that his erection had lost none of its vigour. Gemma could be outrageous on occasions but this was taking things too far. I wanted to tell her to behave herself but, instead, I found myself laughing it off. 

Gemma moved her hand in a gentle circular motion.

“You know, that’s what I miss about being in a regular relationship the sex is so much better...”

Sebastian shifted enough to move her hand from the now prominent bulge so that it rested on his thigh. 

“…Perhaps I could share you...”

Now it was Sebastian’s turn to laugh awkwardly.

“…Oh, come on Seb, don’t tell me that you’ve never fantasized about having a threesome…”

She gave a broad smile as her hand moved back to his bulge and he looked at me despairingly for a lead. 

“You’d lend him to me wouldn’t you?”

Her coy question filled me with bile but I could not help myself as I gave a sly smile and made my reply.

“Of course I would.”

In the space of seconds Sebastian’s expression went from shock to bewilderment and then tentative expectation. After all, what was he to think? I had invited Gemma round and I was making light of her outlandish behaviour.

“There you are Seb, the seal of approval, reckon you could take us both on?”

At that point in time it could still have been construed as a joke; all it needed was Sebastian to get up from the sofa and make it clear that enough was enough. I sat there willing him to do just that but I could see that there was a new excitement in his eyes. Gemma shifted slightly allowing her already short skirt to ride a little further up her legs and then the heavy silence was broken by the slow harsh rasp of a zip as she deftly unfastened his flies. 

Sebastian remained frozen his eyes darting to mine but all I could do was to grin stupidly. 

“Now I know what you see in him…”

Gemma had freed his erection from the confines of his trousers and had it in her hand. Sebastian was proud of his manhood and justifiably so. Fully erect, it was nearly nine inches and Gemma could barely close her hand around its impressive girth. She toyed with him for a moment or two and then looked at me. 

“Why don’t you come and unwrap this delicious package?”

I strained every sinew to stay where I was but the nature of Gemma’s pre-conditioning was just too powerful to overcome. I walked across to him and even smiled seductively as I pulled him to his feet. The fool looked as though he had died and gone to heaven as I slowly undressed him. When he was totally naked Gemma gently pulled him back down on to the sofa. 

“Warm him up while I get undressed…”

Her words could have meant almost anything but, for me, they were just another pre-determined trigger. I knelt down in front of him and slowly eased his legs apart and he could hardly believe his luck. Whenever I had done it in the past it had always been in bed so that it was an act carried out on equal terms. Going down on my knees had all sorts of submissive connotations and I would not do it for any man, including Sebastian. Now, I played the whore that Gemma had made of me. I took his manhood in both hands and began to lick and suck at it with the relish of a porn actress but he did not have eyes for me. Behind me Gemma was slowly undressing and he was almost salivating as he watched.

“Don’t let him come.”

I came almost to a stop and held him still as he throbbed between my lips. Every now and again my mouth was invaded by a salty tang and I knew he would like nothing more than to come deep into the back of my throat and in some way I had rather he had done that than to hold himself back for his chance with Gemma. At that moment I hated him. I had no choice in what I did but he had so easily made light of our relationship. Far from being my saviour he was now revealed as a complete liability and it was fear and foreboding that I realized I was going to have to find another solution.

“Why don’t you sit and watch?”

I turned to face Gemma in her now horribly familiar nakedness and then, robotically, I took a seat in the armchair. Sebastian’s eyes were devouring her and she played up to it with devastating effect. She moved towards him with feline sexiness and he brought his legs together in anticipation. As she drew nearer she turned around so that she had her back to him and allowed him to take her by the hips. She eased backwards and reached beneath her to take hold of his erection. She paused for a moment, holding him ready, and than she slowly dropped onto his lap impaling herself in the process.

She sat astride him, such that I could no longer see his face, and she guided his hands upwards to cup her breasts. I wanted to close my eyes, to look away, but I felt compelled to watch. She caught my eye and then eased herself upwards, just once, so that I could see the glistening evidence of her arousal on his manhood. Then, she slowly sank down once more allowing him to fill her in a way that was so deliciously familiar to me. She was totally in control and behind her Sebastian grunted as he tried to hold back in a futile attempt to prove himself. I knew then that she had no interest in him other than as a means to humiliate me. 

“Come for me baby…”

He needed no second bidding. He gave a single, animal, groan and his legs stiffened as he found his release in an act that had lasted barely a minute. When it was over Gemma rose from him and it was hard to say whether the redness in his face came from exertion or embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, I…”

“No need to apologize…”

She pecked him on the cheek and then, sitting back down next to him, she looked at me.

“…I’ve saved some for you.”

It was another trigger and it was only as my body began to obey that I realized what she had in store. I got up and approached him in a theatrically seductive manner and went back down on my knees. He held his breath, hardly daring to believe, and I could see his heart hammering in his chest. I parted his legs, shook my hair from my face, and took his turgid truncheon of flesh into my mouth. 

I had never before gone down on him after lovemaking and he remained frozen as though any movement might shatter the fantasy. I sucked at him, drawing out, the remainder of his ejaculate and then I took him deeper as I licked and cleaned the whole shaft. He was so lost in his own pleasure that it was only after a few seconds that it must have occurred to him that I was tasting not just him but Gemma as well. As soon as that thought registered, with all its connotations, I felt him beginning to swell in my mouth.

In an odd way I felt cheated. In all the time I had known him he had never come back to the boil again so quickly but now he was at full mast and he had the temerity to take hold of my head as he started to thrust at me. I sensed Gemma’s amusement but she had no intention of allowing him to come again quite so quickly.

“Hey, I’m getting jealous.”

Sebastian looked at her and I could see that he was puffed with pride because he was more than ready to attend to her once again. He withdrew from my mouth and held his erection in readiness but he was not to know that her remark was intended not for him but for me. 

I got up and moved across as she opened her legs in welcome. I went down on my knees, taking up the penitential position that now came so naturally to me, and I heard Sebastian swear under his breath in amazement.

“Clean me up…then make me come.”

The dark fur was matted and wet as a result of their brief session but I dared not demur. I moved closer and began to preen her with my tongue. As I laboured she grew more aroused and her labia began to swell and to part. A runnel of mixed juices leaked from her sex and I went low with my tongue to lap it up.

“Get your tongue inside…”

With a growing sense of revulsion I did as she asked and was greeted by a co-mingled creamy mess. Both tastes were familiar to me but now they formed a bitter-sweet cocktail.

“Come on…I can’t hear you swallowing…”

I pushed my tongue deeper still and lapped up gobbets of the buttery mixture swallowing with a feigned relish which was obviously the result of another subliminal command. I could not believe how full she was; Sebastian had surpassed himself and I cursed him beyond measure. 

“Make sure you get it all…”

After a few more minutes all traces of Sebastian had disappeared and now I was swallowing on account of her ever growing arousal. 

“Do it…”

It was almost with a sense of relief that I switched my attentions to her clitoris which felt stone hard under my tongue. By then I knew her so well; she was more sensitive to the right than the left but she did not like to come too soon, she liked to be teased. I used the well-trained tip of my tongue to stimulate the left hand side of her clitoris and made random, fleeting, darts to the right. She had become a mistress of self control and it seemed an age before she finally relented.

“Suck it …”

I fixed my mouth to the apex of her sex and, as I gently sucked, I flicked my tongue, with newly learned rapidity, over the bulge of nerve endings. Her first orgasm came quickly, almost violently, but, these days, she was never content with just one. She had turned multi-orgasms into an art form and, as I continued to suck, swallowing her offering, the aftershocks were suddenly borne up to be transmuted into a second, distinct, climax. This one she controlled, riding it out, safe in the knowledge that I would continue to provide all the stimulation she needed for as long as she needed it. 

I dared a glance at my watch when she finally released me and saw that she had had me on my knees for more than half an hour but when I could bring myself to look at Sebastian it was to find that his erection was undiminished, in fact, it looked stiffer than I ever remembered having seen it. He must have known, at that juncture, that there was something amiss: the tone that Gemma adopted was not what you would expect from two good friends enjoying a little Sapphic fun. As if to test a theory he posed a question. 

“Are you going to trade places?”

Gemma’s reply was almost disdainful.

“I don’t do girls.”

“But you’re happy to be the recipient?”

“How could I refuse her? She just loves to worship at the shrine and, after all, she has such a talented little tongue. Now, you look more than ready, which one of us is it going to be?”

The casual use of the impersonal pronoun must have confirmed for him the skewed nature of the relationship between Gemma and I but, if anything, it only seemed to excite him more. Now, offered a choice, I was completely ignored as he gently pushed her back and eased himself between her legs. 

Chapter 4

Gemma made me lick her clean afterwards. She did not want another orgasm, it was just one final display of her authority. Once she had left Sebastian made the mistake of trying to build on what he perceived to be a previously untapped submissive streak. Notwithstanding two powerful climaxes his manhood was still showing signs of life and in an echo of Gemma’s commanding tone he splayed himself on the sofa. 




A Binding Oral Agreement



“Come and get me ready…”

I walked towards him with a fixed smile and then with all the strength I could muster I kicked him in the balls. 

He was still doubled up as I half dragged, half rolled, him into the hall before pushing him through the front door and throwing his clothes out after him. When he had recovered sufficiently he went into a rage and pounded at the door but the threat of a phone call to the police was enough to make him go away. In the resulting silence I sat and wept.

By the following morning the prospect of not having Sebastian in my life no longer seemed quite so bad and I was left to wonder if I had ever really been in love with him. His absence meant that I was thrown back on my own resources but self-reliance had always been one of my great strengths. I sat at the dining table and started to make some notes. 

Sebastian was out. 

Both my parents were dead and I had no siblings. 

I could not make a report to the police; I tried to call them but I always found myself cutting the line before I could say too much.

I looked up other hypnotherapists in the yellow pages but as I cast my eyes down the list of names I started to feel nauseous and I suspected that I had been primed with some form of unconscious aversion. 

There was one option left to me but, to start with, it involved throwing myself on Gemma’s mercy.“Gemma, it’s me. Look. I’m not feeling too bright this morning. The truth is, I could do with a break.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ve scheduled an appointment for you on Friday with Melanie Marchant. We’re talking big bucks on this one so it’s probably no bad thing for you to get your strength back…from what I hear you’re going to need it.” 

I heard her laugh as she put down the phone but I was amazed that she had conceded to it. I immediately made two more phone calls and less than half an hour later I was on my way to the airport. I was booked on the Edinburgh flight and could not totally believe it until I took my seat and the plane took off. I felt no guilt and certainly no compunction to return to the office.

Katrina was at the airport to meet me and I picked her out immediately. She got her exotic looks from a Scottish father and a Spanish mother and she seemed to grow more beautiful with each year that went by. She hugged and kissed me in a show of genuinely effusive affection and I felt guilty. We had been best friends through school but saw less of each other when we went to different universities. When I finally started work friendships took a second place and we had pretty much lost touch altogether but that was definitely down to me. Katrina continued to make arrangements to meet up but there always seemed to be something more pressing.

We had lunch and, over a couple of bottles of wine, we brought each other up to date. By the time coffee was served it was though we had never been apart. We took a taxi back to her flat on the University campus and she showed me the spare bedroom before serving up more coffee in the living room.

“You said, on the phone, that you had something important to tell me about. Well I’m all ears.”

Over the course of the next hour I unburdened myself. I told her everything and, at the end of it, she sat in stunned silence before finally speaking.

“If I understand you correctly, you can’t, or won’t, go the the police.”

“Even if I could, what would I say? I can’t substantiate any of it and duress is even harder to prove.”

“So how can I help?”

“You did your masters thesis on subliminal persuasion techniques as I recall.”

“I lecture on psychology, not hypnotism, and my thesis was based on Nazi propaganda techniques.”

“Surely it’s close to being the same thing?”

“Perhaps if I show you.”

She left the room for a moment and returned carrying a folder from which she extracted a single sheet. It was a photocopy of a document written in German and my rusty language skills were not up to translating it. 

“It’s a propaganda leaflet extolling the virtues of the Nazi party. Now look what happens if you highlight all of the positive adjectives like “good” and “superior” for example.”

She showed me a second sheet on which she had done just that and the highlighted words formed a swastika design on the paper.

“They used a similar negative reinforcement technique on this anti-Semitic tract. You can see that the negative adjectives form a Star of David. Now, neither of these designs is obvious unless you know what to do but if you use hypnotism to put somebody under they will recall the documents and, in their mind, they will see the design as though it were a watermark on the paper.”

I grew quite excited.

“But that’s exactly what they’ve done to me.”

“No it’s not. These leaflets were produced in the millions and fewer than ten percent of those reading it would absorb the image but, having done so, the conditioning sits deep in the subconscious. If your German were good I’m sure you would be in that ten percent but what you’ve been subjected to is something very specific, something very targeted.”

“Are you saying you can’t help?”

“No, not necessarily. I probably know enough to put you under but I wouldn’t want to. It might be that, in ridding you of one form of suggestive behaviour, I might trigger another. From what you’ve told me your conditioning is very elaborate and I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been under more often than you can recall.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“You might not like the answer.”

“Please, I’m desperate.”

“Do you remember those newsreels of the Korean war? Those American pow’s put in front of a TV camera and seen to denounce their country, their president even the flag? That was very difficult to pull off. Flag, country, president those are patriotic themes that Americans have inculcated from birth. The Koreans used aversion therapy. Those prisoners were not just threatened with pain they were subjected to it and they were made to associate that pain with those particular images and ideas.”

“You think that something like that would work for me?”

“There are no guarantees, but if it did work it should do so without triggering an alternative pattern of behaviour.” 

“So how do we begin?”

“Not so hasty. Do you understand what I’m saying to you? You would have to find someone prepared to let you perform cunnilingus on them and you would have to associate that experience with a degree of pain.”

The next few seconds of silence seemed to stretch on forever and my mind was a whirl of conflicting possibilities and emotions. I tried to speak but my voice quavered and I had to swallow hard.

“You’re the only person I can trust. Will you help me?”

She looked at me with an oddly neutral expression and there was a further lengthy pause before she replied.

“If I agree to help it will be subject to certain conditions…”

“Yes?”

“Once you start you have to see it through. I will want to make notes and possibly make some recordings but I’ll guarantee your anonymity. You must understand that, for the next couple of days, our friendship will, in effect, be set aside.” 

Katrina normally spoke with a soft, almost seductive, Scottish accent but her clipped, professional, tone had a hard edge that, for reasons I could not explain, made me feel slightly uneasy. I told myself not to be silly and then bit the bullet.

“Okay, I agree, when do we begin?”

“There’s no time like the present. I’ll go into the bedroom. Give me ten minutes and then come in.

Make sure you are undressed.”

“Undressed?”

“Are you questioning me already?”

“No…no of course not.”

Katrina left the room and I stood there, alone, wondering just what the hell I had agreed to. In the next few minutes I had serious doubts. Katrina had been my best friend and I was readying myself to enter her bedroom and go down on her. This time there was to be no compunction I was going to do it of my own accord albeit with the greatest reluctance. 

I undressed myself and then knocked on the door tentatively before entering. I guess I knew what to expect but the shock of seeing Katrina naked was still great. She was sitting propped up on a pile of pillows with her legs stretched before her. I had seen her naked in the past when we were both schoolgirls but she was now a grown woman with a body to be envious of and the confidence to show it off. Having guiltily surveyed her I raised my eyes to hers. I suppose I hoped to find her as apprehensive as I was but she looked calmly aloof. 

“How do we go about this?”

Her reply was sterile.

“Essentially we are talking about a denial of need. You have to ask for what you want but in the knowledge that it comes at a price.”

As she spoke she opened her legs and raised her knee. Her sex was shaved except for a neatly trimmed tuft of red black hair at the apex which contrasted with her semi Mediterranean complexion. 

“So, tell me, what do you want?”

“I want…I want to go down on you.”

“Be more specific.”

I was embarrassed beyond measure.

“I want to lick you.”

“Where?”

I gave her a look that asked if this was absolutely necessary but I was met by the same cold expression.

“I want to lick..your sex.”

“A little Victorian don’t you think? Try again.”

I felt like a schoolgirl and the more so as I struggled for another word. Vagina seemed too clinical but the obvious alternative was not an expression that I had ever been comfortable with. I blushed as I formed the words. 

“I want to lick your cunt.”

“That’s better. Now ask nicely.”

Another meeting of the eyes and another neutral response. I wanted to speak her name, to feel less dehumanized, but she was fully into her role and now it was up to me to play my part. 

“Please…may I lick your cunt?”

“You may.”

My body was shaking as I knelt up onto the bed and then lowered my face between her legs. For a second or two I hesitated, reluctant to go through with it, but I reasoned with myself that this was now something I was more than familiar with and this time I was doing it for my own benefit. I closed my eyes and gave a single broad lick up along the length of her sex and was immediately greeted by a flood of moisture. I was so surprised I stopped and looked up at her but she simply raised an eyebrow as if to say “What did you expect?”

The truth was I did not expect her to be aroused and certainly not to that degree. I reapplied my tongue and wondered just how far I was supposed to take it, surely she did not expect an orgasm?, but, then again, was it fair of me to stop short? She remained almost perfectly still offering no clues. I licked gently for a couple of minutes and at some point she picked up a notepad from the bedside table and scribbled something before relaxing once more.

Her continued silence served only to increase my sense of awkwardness and the one clue that I had was the slowly increasing heat and wetness of her sex. I knew that I was licking more mechanically than I would have dared with Gemma and I was studiously avoiding her clitoris but, a few minutes later, she gave a barely perceptible sigh and her body shivered gently. Almost immediately she unwound herself from beneath me and stood up.

“Lie across the bed. Face down.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Just do as I ask.”

I took up my position, with my head on one side, and watched as she reached across to where her clothes were neatly folded onto the back of a chair. She picked up her skirt and unthreaded the thin leather belt.

“You’re not serious?”

“I’ve told you once. I’ll give you one final chance. We can stop this right now, and you can seek someone else’s help, or you do what I say without question.” 

I had already come too far. If I saw it through to the end, and achieved a successful outcome, I could rationalize the whole experience as a psychiatric procedure but if I fell at the first hurdle not only would I still have a problem I would have changed the nature of my friendship with Katrina beyond retrieval.

So, I relaxed my body as best I could. I remained still and watched as Katrina wrapped the buckle end of the belt around her hand leaving twelve inches of it hanging free. She moved around out of my sight and I held my breath. The first strike came with a sharp snap and I yelped more in surprise than pain. She had not struck me very hard but it was hard enough. The second strike came quickly, a little lower on my buttocks, and no less painful than the first.

“This is the price you pay. If I allow you go down on me you must accept the consequences.”

Her delivery was flat, almost toneless, and it reminded me of something. Only later did I make the connection with Helen Heller who issued instructions a similar neutral manner.

In all she struck me six times and, as far as I could judge, none of the strokes had overlapped. Once she stopped the burning pain grew and I could distinguish each distinct welt.

“I need to make some notes. Go into the other room and come back in one hour’s time. 

As soon as I was alone again I checked in the mirror. The welts stood out vividly red against my pale flesh but it was hard to believe that those six simple lines could cause so much anguish. I went into the bathroom and found some after sun cream which brought some relief but as I caught my reflection I could not help but despair at my insane predicament. Exactly an hour later I went back into the bedroom.

“Just one moment.”

I stood whilst she finished writing and then she settled back into the pillows. This time she opened her legs with her knees raised putting her sex blatantly on display. For a second or two I was at a loss but then remembered what was required. 

“Please may I lick your cunt?”

The words tasted bitter in my mouth. I did not want to do it and I certainly did not want to pay the price but I somehow knew that the “therapy” had not yet worked. The one positive thing was the sense of other-worldliness that I felt at that moment. It was just like the state that I arrived at when commanded by Gemma and I could only conclude that Katrina’s treatment was acting on the appropriate area of my subconscious.

“Are you prepared to take the consequences?”

“…I think so.”

“Then you may begin.”

Once again I went down on my belly to my best friend. I hooked my arms under her legs and applied my mouth. This time there was no doubt. She was aroused and, judging by the heavy scent, she had been for some time. I felt aggrieved by this but had to remind myself that I had asked for her help. Only then did it occur to me that perhaps I should have asked her if she had had any previous experience with women. I had always assumed she was hetro but, on reflection, whilst she had many male friends there were none that I had ever been introduced to as a partner. These thoughts were still going through my mind as she seemed to reach another passive orgasm.

“Lie on the bed as before.”

“Is the belt strictly necessary?”

“I could spank you but that’s a little too intimate don’t you think? We need to keep this as impersonal as possible.”

I wanted to scream at her. How much more intimate could it get? I had just brought her to an orgasm using my mouth! I tried to reassure myself that she knew best and lay down on the counterpane.

I felt an odd shiver of revulsion as her fingers lightly traced out the tracks of pain that she had already laid down.

“Have you used a balm?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t. You need to experience the pain otherwise it’s counterproductive.”

With that she took up the belt again and I tensed myself in anticipation. The first stroke was a long time in coming, and I almost told her to get on with it, but when it fell I wished that I had not been so impatient. It might have been that it fell across an already tortured area of flesh but in my bones I knew that she had hit me a whole lot harder and the pain was both instant and dreadful. 

“Take your hands away.”

“Not so hard!”

“Do you want my help or not?”

It took a supreme effort of will to put my hands back down by my sides leaving my buttocks feeling horribly vulnerable. When the second strike came it was worse still and I could not help crying out.

“Scream all you like. The walls are made of granite, you could set off an explosion in here and no one would know.”

I do not know how she intended it but it sounded almost like a taunt and the stubborn streak in my nature took over. She laid on four more strokes, each no less painful than the first two, but I bit my lip and took them with barely a whimper.

“I need a rest. Let me get a couple of hours sleep and then come in and wake me.”

I got up from the bed and the pain immediately doubled as blood rushed back to my buttocks. I could feel a tear pricking my eye but I held it back until I was out of the room but then the floodgates opened. I cried for the next half hour both because of the pain but more so because of my predicament. However I looked at it my life seemed to be coming off the rails. 

I tried to pull myself together and felt a little better after a long shower but two hours passed quickly and it was time to present myself again. As I entered the bedroom I was surprised to find that Katrina was dressed. She was sitting at the mirror putting the final touches to her mascara. 

“Are we going out?”

“I am. It would probably be better for you to stay in and take an early night. Now, is there something you wanted to ask me?” 

I was completely thrown. First by the news that she was going out without me and then by the fact of her second question. Did she really expect me to ask again? Her face offered no clues and I began to wonder if it was some form of test. If I asked, would she undress again and stay? There was only one way to find out.

“Please…may I lick you?”

I could not bring myself to say the hated word again but she ignored my lapse.

“Kneel down.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Kneel down. We’ve got to make this more realistic. I want you to do for me what you do for her.”

I reluctantly did as she asked. Somehow, with us both on the bed, I could pretend that there was some degree of parity but now there was to be no pretence about the relative nature of our roles. As I knelt she opened her legs. Within the confines of her short skirt she was wearing open crotch tights without panties and the stretched nylon framed her sex in an almost obscene manner. 

As I drew nearer I could see that her labia were already wet and, as I applied my tongue, her taste was strong. In deference to her request I did all the things that Gemma liked me to do and she grew more animated than she had been up to then. As I worked towards her G spot she even began to issue instructions.

“Yes…there…just there…oh that’s good!”

I strongly suspected that she came at that point but she gave no indication that I was to stop. As I sucked on her clitoris she put both hands to the back of my head and held me in place and then her thighs closed about my head. Her second orgasm arrived and she literally wrung it out. She crossed her ankles and squeezed her thighs so that her scream of ecstasy was lost to me as a muffled cry. I thought that it would never end, and feared that my eyes would be squeezed from my head, but she finally relented and allowed herself to relax. 

She stood up and straightened her skirt and, apart from a high colour in her cheeks, she looked immaculate. For my part I felt bedraggled. My face was red and clammy and my hair was an unruly mess. 

“Bend over the stool. I’ll attend to you before I leave.”

I found her tone, indeed her whole attitude, hurtful but this was what I had asked for. By remaining aloof she was playing a role and it would make it easier to draw a distinction between this persona and the real Katrina when it was all over. 

I bent myself over the stool and found that it was more comforting than the bed. I hugged myself to it and awaited my fate. 




A Binding Oral Agreement



“I’ve put my skirt away so I’ll have to use this.”

She picked up an old fashioned, ivory backed, hair brush from the dressing table. It had a long handle with a round head and she slapped it experimentally into the palm of her hand. Inwardly, I gave thanks. I was not sure if I could take another half dozen with the belt but just a few seconds later I changed my mind. The back of the brush came down on my buttocks with a dull splat but the first strike immediately reignited all the pain I had suffered up to that point. She did not spare me. In fact, she grunted with effort as she delivered six solid strokes covering the whole of my arse. I could not have been in more pain had scalding water been poured over me and I cried freely.

“Good, I think we’re getting somewhere. Don’t wait up for me I may be late. Wake me at nine tomorrow.”

She left without another word and my immediate instinct was to pack up my bag and leave but I had to admit to myself that something was working. The very last thing in the world that I wanted to do right then was to submit to another session of punishment; whether or not the right associations had been made in my subconscious I could not say. 

I went to bed and found that lying on my stomach offered minimal relief. The bed itself did not help. It was an old fashioned, canopied, four poster which fitted in well with the undressed granite walls of the guestroom but the mattress felt as though it might have been the original. Katrina had forewarned me but I had insisted that I would make do with it. Finally, I was overtaken by mental exhaustion and I feel into a deep but fitful sleep. 

I did not wake until eight thirty the following morning. I took a quick shower and threw my nightdress back on before knocking at Katrina’s bedroom door. As I entered she was still only half awake but she quickly sat up in bed. 

“You’re just in time. Come here.”

I went and stood beside her.

“I was just thinking about you.”

As she said it she threw the quilt to one side. She was wearing a silk teddy which was rucked up around her breasts and I could see that she had at least two fingers buried deep inside herself. 

“Do it for me.”

She slowly slid her fingers free and opened her legs a little wider. I dropped my head almost without thinking and it was only as I began to lap at her already copious outpouring that I realized that she hadn’t made me ask. I feared then that she perhaps saw this as something set aside from my course of treatment and I wondered if I ought to say something. I did not want her suffering from the misapprehension that our relationship could continue in that way once I had regained control of my life.

As it turned out it was me who was being deluded. She quickly came to a noisy, messy, orgasm but she had me lick her until she came down from the plateau. Once she had calmed down she languidly rose from the bed.

“Stay just as you are …”

She did not stint. She had another belt ready at the bedside. It was heavier and wider than the one from the previous day and as she applied it the agonizing slaps echoed form the walls. By the fifth stroke I was broken. I rolled off the bed and turned to her with tears in my eyes.

“No more!”

For a second I saw something of the old Katrina in her eyes.

“You were doing so well. Look, take one of these; it’s a strong sedative. I’ve got to see some students this morning but it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. Go back to bed and I’ll wake you when I get back.”

I looked at the pill that she was proffering and my immediate reaction was to reject it. Drugs of any description had always been an anathema to me, I preferred homeopathic remedies wherever possible, but the prospect of two hours solid sleep free from pain was too much of a lure. I swallowed the pill with some water and returned to bed drawing comfort from the fact that, for better or worse, my experiment with Katrina was over. 

The pill worked blissfully well but when I awoke something was wrong. At first, I thought I was still caught up in a dream but as I slowly regained my senses the sinister nature of my predicament became clear. My naked body was elaborately, almost elegantly, bound with a number of pristine white ropes. My arms were spread and tied off to the bedposts and other ropes crisscrossed my breasts and stomach lashing me firmly to the mattress. This was bad enough but it was the position of my legs that gave me most cause for concern. They had been bound together and then tied off to the decorative curlicues on the canopy of the bed. In this way my feet were almost over my shoulders and my buttocks were raised an inch or two above the beds surface.

For the next two or three minutes I struggled in vain to loosen the ropes but they had been tied by someone who knew exactly what they were doing. Eventually, I gave up and shouted out in anger.

“Kat!..Kat, get in here!” 

When she did not put in an immediate appearance I felt panic welling up inside but, at last, the door opened. 

“Kat! What’s going on?!”

She walked into the room dressed in nothing more than a very brief satin nightdress.. 

“You’re back with us.”

“Get over here and undo these bloody ropes!”

“Sorry, no can do. I told you that once you started you had to see it through. After your behaviour this morning I’ve decided that we need to refine your treatment.”

“Don’t bullshit me! Undo me now, I want to leave.”

She came closer and gently rubbed the back of her hand across my perspiring forehead. 

“Your problem is that you just don’t know what’s good for you.”

“Kat, am I getting through to you? It’s over!”

“I think you’ll find that it’s only over when I say so. I’ve been thinking about this and I’ve determined that the problem is that you are not making a direct enough connection between the two elements…so I’ve decided to enlist some help.”

The import of her words had barely sunk in before two girls came into the room. 

“Kat, get them out of here!”

She ignored my entreaty and beckoned them closer. 

“Let me introduce two of my students. Verona, here, is on a scholarship from Venezuela, Janet comes from right here in Edinburgh.”

Verona gave a dazzling smile and looked to all the world as though nothing untoward was going on but Janet appeared a little more reticent. 

“Kat, I don’t know what you think you’re playing at…!”

She carried on as though I had not interrupted. 

“Janet, put the camera on the dressing table.”

“Katrina! This stops right now!”

My obvious anger brought Janet up short for a second or two but than she set up the small digital video camera as she had been asked. Katrina’s face then loomed over mine.

“Here’s what is going to happen. I am going to sit on your face and you are going to make me come because, until you do, Verona is going to whip you.”

I desperately looked for any hint of amusement in her eyes, any clue that it was all a joke, but she was in deadly earnest. 

“You can’t make me do this!”

“You think not?”

She slowly unfastened her nightdress and allowed the satin to slide off of her skin. I frantically shook my head from side to side but I could only keep it up for a few seconds. She waited patiently until I gave up and then she slinked up onto the bed. She straddled my head, facing down the bed so that she could see exactly what Verona was doing. I clamped my mouth closed defiantly but she stayed poised over me with her sex just a couple of inches away.

“Verona is going to make a start, gently to start with but with increasing severity. You know how to make it stop.”

I was grimly determined. She was not going to make me do it. I tensed my whole body and waited. The first strokes, when they fell, were little more than flicks and whilst I could not see I guessed that she was using the same belt that Katrina had employed the first time. The strokes came at regular intervals with only three or four seconds between them but by the time she reached a dozen they were really stinging. My pride would allow me neither to beg nor to do as she asked but each stroke was heavier than the last and my buttocks had been sore from the outset. Katrina remained perfectly still but a single, telling, drop of moisture reluctantly gave in to gravity and fell from the base of her sex to hit me squarely between the eyes.

I lost count but I must have taken two dozen strokes before I broke. 

“Slow down. She’s got the message.”

I strained my neck, lifted my head, and started to lick. She was already in full flow and my tongue slid inside her with ease. Verona slowed down but she did not stop. The strokes still came at regular intervals but they were delivered with less venom. Even so, the pain was getting worse and I knew I had to satisfy Katrina as soon as possible but her elevated position made it a real effort to get to her clitoris. I finally managed it with my tongue at full stretch and I used the very tip to try and get her there. She managed to keep her poise for another minute or so but then it got to her and she eased down to grant me full access. When she finally came it was with most of her weight bearing down on my face but I was simply glad to survive the ordeal. 

Verona had stopped at last but she may as well have been holding a clothes iron to my skin for all the relief that it brought. I wanted to give Katrina hell but I had to wait, with barely disguised impatience, to be untied. She got off of the bed onto unsteady legs and then stretched herself. I envied her that stretch; only at moment did I realize just how cramped my own body had become.

She went to Verona and took the belt from her hand.

“You did well. You’ve earned your reward.”

Verona gave a girlish squeal and she rushed to take off her clothes. 

“Katrina!”

She turned back to me and smiled.

“I don’t have to tell you what to do, do I?”

Verona slipped off her high cut panties and then hopped onto the bed to straddle my face. She faced up the bed so that she could look down into my eyes and her expression was one of almost childish excitement but there was no doubting that she was a woman. She was a little slimmer than Katrina but her breasts were impressively larger. She had a much darker complexion and she had a fuller growth of pubic hair. Katrina had said she was a student but I was guessing that she was already in her mid-twenties. 

“Janet, come and take the belt.”

Once again I tried to hold out and once again I failed. Janet must have struck me fewer than half a dozen times before I buried my tongue deep into Verona’s sex. She was so excited that she used her fingers to make herself more accessible to me and it was probably just as well. Janet was either reluctant, amateur or both. She struck me without rhythm and there was no telling haw hard she would strike. At one point she hit me so hard that I screamed into Verona’s sex and I was aware that Katrina had cautioned her to be more careful.

She came at least once but she did not let on. The flood had no sooner subsided than she was working herself on my face again and I had to endure at least another dozen strokes before she got there for a second time. When she dismounted I could no longer take stock of all the aches and pains that were assailing me.

It is a constant amazement how quickly you can become resigned to fate. It was almost inevitable that Janet would want her turn and I was already thinking in terms of getting it over with so that I could have my confrontation with Katrina.

“Your turn Janet, if you wish.”

Katrina’s words confirmed my fears and Janet started to undress but where Verona had no qualms about her nakedness Janet seemed more self conscious. She had a good figure but looked heavily built when compared to Verona. She was blonde haired and pale skinned leaving her red nipples to form the starkest contrast. As she drew nearer I caught her eye and I saw something there. It was neither the aloofness of Katrina nor the excitement of Verona it was something else and only later did I think that it might have been pity.

She took her place on the bed less gracefully than the others and seemed in two minds about how to position herself. In the end she opted to face down the bed as Katrina had done and it was at that moment that it fell into place. For the first time in my life I went into hysterics. I was dimly aware of a commotion around me and then I fell into a welcoming darkness.

Chapter 5

When I came to I was alone. The ropes were gone and I was lying in bed with the quilt over me. 

I lay still for a moment or two listening for noises elsewhere in the flat but heard none. I got up and winced with pain as I got myself dressed. Someone had already cleaned my face and so I threw my things into my bag and less than ten minutes later I was standing in the street hailing a taxi. At the airport I managed to get my ticket changed to the early evening flight and then I killed a fearful couple of hours praying that Katrina would not come after me. Once I was safely on the plane I tried to get my thoughts in order.

It was seeing Janet’s body that had taken me over the edge. Her buttocks were a mess of recently inflicted stripes but there was evidence of much older punishments. I knew then that Katrina was not new to this. I had no doubt that both girls were indeed students but I surmised that Katrina was tutoring them not just in Psychology. I guessed that Verona was naturally dominant and was following in Katrina’s footsteps and it followed that Janet was probably submissive to both of them. That look that she gave me told me that that she had been there too, on her back, helpless, whilst they rode themselves to ecstasy.

Some weeks later Katrina phoned me. She confirmed that she was bisexual, mainly men, but occasionally women, but only on her terms. She told me that she had been attracted to me ever since school but she knew that I would not go for her particular brand of deviancy. At the outset she genuinely believed that she could help me but she was overcome by her own desires. She said that she wanted a reconciliation but I put the phone down without another word and never spoke to her again. 

The day following my return from Edinburgh I found that I was not drawn back to the office. I speculated that this was because Gemma had tacitly agreed that I need not return before Friday which now meant that I had two days in which to try and find a solution. On the flight home it had occurred to me that, whilst I could not enlist the help of another hypnotherapist, I could, perhaps, explore the possibilities of self hypnosis. Now that I had a new goal I was galvanized. It took a couple of phone calls to seek out a medical library that allowed general public access and then, less than an hour later, I was seated at a study table. It seemed that the medical community was still pretty evenly split on the efficacy of hypnotic treatments with a large proportion of the anti lobby being vehemently opposed. I took a light lunch and then immersed myself once more, this time concentrating on techniques. 

By the time I returned home I had a thick sheath of notes and a renewed spirit of optimism. It seemed that the key to self-hypnosis was the ability to relax and years of yoga classes gave me a head start in this regard. It was necessary to reach a state of hypnotic susceptibility that demanded a deep state of relaxation. Some people did this whilst standing up to avoid actually falling asleep but others failed because they remained too alert in an effort to recognize the onset of the hypnotic state. It seemed that the second important element was to have, simple, clear cut goals. Some of the literature recommended writing them down and committing them to memory so that they could be accessed by the subconscious. An alternative was to try and visualize them before going under. 

In my case it was very simple. I wrote down the phrase “I will no longer submit to Gemma’s will.” half a dozen times and recited it as a mantra. By repeating the words I used it as a countdown and each time I said them I allowed myself to relax a little more. After an hour I felt as invigorated as I normally did after a yoga session but I had no idea if it had worked. The following day I repeated the process twice more having bathed and pampered myself beforehand to help things along. 

On Friday morning I deliberately slept late to see if I felt any guilt about not going into the office on time and was elated to find that my conscience seemed clear. I got up, had a leisurely breakfast and everything still seemed well. I got into my car feeling happier than I had in days and realized that I was actually looking forward to my confrontation with Gemma. As usual, I allowed the traffic flow to dictate the route that I took but I found that I had turned into an unfamiliar street. I came to a stop at the kerb to give myself a chance to check my mental map but, no sooner had I done so, than there was a sharp rapping on the top of the car. 

“You’re late!”

I looked up into the heavily made up face of a pneumatically breasted blonde and it took me a second or two to recognize the woman who had provided so much tabloid fodder over the preceding twelve months. Melanie Marchant, real name unknown, was a former lap dancer who had achieved notoriety after marrying a fifty year old postman. He also happened to be one of the countries biggest ever lottery winners. She divorced him within a year, citing his adultery, and took him for half of everything he had. The sap had bedded an equally well endowed “model” who, the tabloids later discovered, had once worked at the same club as Marchant. Much was made of it but nothing was ever proved. 

More thoughts were cascading into my mind than I could immediately handle and I felt slightly faint. I got out of the car, leant against it, and took some deep breaths. 

“Follow me.”

She walked back up the path towards a large faux Tudor house that was one of six in the street and, almost without thinking, I followed. My professional instincts were kicking in but it was all wrong somehow. She was a prospective client, I was late. I racked my brains. What time should I have been there?

The interior of the house turned out to be a nightmare of mismatched modern themes that screamed bad taste and only served to unsettle me further. She had me sit down on a particularly garish sofa and I realized that I had brought a set of proposal forms with me from the car. I tried to find something to say, to stall for time, whilst I tried to regain control.

“How…How did you hear about us?”

“I know Gemma from the club. You’d be surprised how many business women used to come in.”

She saw the shocked look on my face.

“When they ask for dances they pay better than the men: and then of course there are the little extras…I must admit I never thought that I would end up as the client. Why don’t you put those papers down and undress for me.”

I felt a wave of revulsion but it was quickly replaced by a dangerously familiar sense of guilt. It seemed that all my attempts at self-healing had been in vain. 

“Nice body, you sure you don’t want a job at the club? You’d make good money.”

I stood before her naked and defeated. 

“Dancing can be a turn on but we had a strictly “no touch” policy with the men; so, at the end of the evening we girls would sometimes help one another out…I’ve missed that this last year or so.”

As she said it she stood up and slipped her panties down her long dancer’s legs. Any lingering doubts disappeared like pollen in the wind. She came towards me and ran her hands down off of my shoulders and onto my breasts before moving lower still. I winced as her hands playfully squeezed my buttocks and she half turned me to see. 

“You’re into that sort of thing? Oh baby, you and I are going to have so much fun..!”