|Blogs > garru4er123 > SavLaMar|
ephen arrived and promptly whisked Rachel away in his '95 Jag. A product of British ancestry, he had remained a devout fan ever since his first XK-E.
"Can you wait for a late dinner?" he asked as he entered 101, Northbound.
"I guess so." Food was the last thing on Rachel's mind. "Where are we going, hon?" She was unable to restrain her excitement.
Stephen took Rachel's hand and kissed it. "You'll see," he said, then quickly changed the subject.
Rachel rearranged her skirt over her crossed legs, then laid her hand lightly on his thigh.
* * * * * * * * * *
The flowers and gifts arrived at the office in the morning. The card read, "Be ready at 6:30. I love you, S."
In the privacy of her office, Rachel tackled one of the boxes with childish enthusiasm. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of the white high-heeled shoes. As she examined the fine Italian leather, wicked thoughts filled her mind and a slow smile began to form.
Next, she chose the biggest box and tore at the fancy wrap impatiently. Feeling the fabric first, she yanked out the dress. It was pale-pink, trimmed with white lace--a statement of femininity. Giggling, she held the dress up and twirled to the center of the small room. "It's beautiful," she murmured. As always, Stephen had chosen well.
As Rachel unraveled the last box, her mind raced with curiosity. "Hmmm," she hummed, running her hand inside the thigh-high stocking.
The day passed in slow motion as Rachel tried to concentrate. Becoming exasperated, she gave up and left work an hour early.
She made her way through San Francisco's rush hour. Her patience growing thin, she honked and muttered at anyone who got in her way. But by the time she met the challenge of the Golden Gate Bridge, her thoughts returned to Stephen and the evening ahead.
Stepping out of the shower, Rachel noticed Stephen was due in less than half an hour. She made a haphazard attempt at patting herself dry. Then modifying her body-pampering ritual, she picked up the smallest box and sat on the edge of the bed.
Carefully, she eased the stockings over her smooth legs and straightened the fine lace around her thighs. Next, she slipped on the pink dress, then stepped into the new shoes. The form-fitting bodice flared into a knee-length skirt and pronounced her shapely figure most effectively. Looking in the mirror, she tilted her head and smiled. At the age of thirty-nine, Rachel was still a beautiful woman.
* * * * * * * * * *
The January fog was well upon the coastline by the time Stephen turned off the highway and drove into a remote area.
"Where are we?" Rachel asked, knowing there would be no explanation. She vaguely remembered passing a sign for Petaluma.
Stephen drove through the main street of a small town, then turned into a long alleyway. A two-story brick building occupied the entire alley. A dim light glowed through its only window.
* * * * * * * * * *
Four years ago, Rachel Palinski sat in a cafe, sipping an Ice Cap. Preoccupied, she suddenly sensed a warm presence standing next to her. As she slowly raised her head, her eyes followed the medium-built solid physique to an attractive face peering down at her. Finding the fallen strands of hair across his forehead irresistible, she did not hear a word he was saying. But when his sudden smile struck her like a bolt of lightening, Rachel knew she did not stand a chance--the man behind the sensuous brown eyes was stealing her heart.
As a young woman, Rachel had experienced several relationships, but none of serious value. She had always enjoyed sex and, over the years, had accumulated a number of erotic fantasies.
Stephen aroused her in every sense. His manly confidence and capabilities encouraged her sensuality. All suspicions and threats disappeared early in their relationship as her trust in his love grew. While he pushed her further continuously, Rachel's willingness to explore seemed to somehow always precede the event. Every new experience Stephen offered, not only brought greater satisfaction, but also paved the way for the next.
* * * * * * * * * *
The word "Indulgence" appeared on a small wooden sign behind the curtain-covered window. "By Appointment Only" was scripted in smaller print just below the name.
At the door, Stephen hesitated. "Trust me," he said, looking into Rachel's eyes.
She studied him, puzzled. What was he up to?
When she nodded, he reached for the bell. After a brief moment came the quiet sound of a buzzer. Rachel took a deep breath and stepped inside.
At first glance, she saw nothing to indicate the specialty of the shop. But as she took in more of the detail, she began to form a better idea.
The room was spacious and furnished lavishly with Mahogany. A Jade-color Persian carpet covered the polished wood floor. The counter caught Rachel's attention--it was noticeably lower than standard height. A velvet-covered stool stood at one end. At the other end of the counter, a lovely Tiffany lamp shone directly on the small name plaque with the words "Mr. Shane, Proprietor." The jade color, incorporated throughout the décor, gave the room richness and warmth.
A large oil painting hung from the adjacent wall. The nude woman's skin was translucent. Her plump body was draped over the arm of a sofa. The artist had successfully captured a lifelike image of anticipation on her lovely face. A man in Edwardian ensemble stood behind her. He held a riding crop and appeared to be tapping it against his palm. He was glancing at the woman's well-rounded ass, as if contemplating the details of her punishment.
Below the painting, an elegant desk supported a display of leather articles. Rachel noticed an inconspicuous door behind a panel of drapes. A bronze mirror hung on one side of the velvet curtains and an array of chains, chokers, and straps on the other. As she looked around, the tastefully displayed instruments of pain and pleasure gradually took on a more harmless demeanor.
Behind the counter stood Mr. Shane--a tall, handsome man in his mid fifties with graying hair and stern features. He wore a black tailored suit, offset by a crisp white shirt. His tie was bold with a hint of red, and perfectly knotted. A red handkerchief, folded meticulously, was tucked in his breast pocket and completed the impeccable look.
A number of questions crossed Rachel's mind. Bursting with curiosity, she watched Stephen approach the counter.
"Good evening, Mr. Shane."
"Good evening, Stephen," Mr. Shane replied cordially.
Rachel regarded the man more closely. There was something familiar about him.
"Rachel is here to choose a whip," Stephen announced unexpectedly, then he made a slow turn toward her.
As the words penetrated, Rachel's eyes grew wider and her thoughts formed with urgency. Then, she saw the familiar look of encouragement in Stephen's eyes reaching out. Gradually, her fears faded and her trust grew stronger. Her expression broke into a mischievous smile. In her most seductive manner, she began to wander around the room.
Leaning against the counter, Stephen watched Rachel drift from one display to the next. Her graceful movements created an elusive aura. Her soft skin was dotted with light freckles. Her long auburn hair complimented the green eyes that shone like emeralds. As he took in her five-foot-five-inch frame, he stifled the smile it brought. Her voluptuous body never failed to arouse his sexual desires. Everything about her was irresistible to his taste.
Rachel deliberately lingered and inspected every whip at length. "This one," she said at last, pointing.
Mr. Shane removed the three-feet-long cat-o'-nine-tails and handed it to Stephen who examined it as though it was a legal document.
When he did raise his head, he said, "Mr. Shane, I want Rachel to be sure of her choice. Would you be so kind?"
Rachel's mouth flew open. "What? Here?" she stammered.
"Yes, here." Stephen brushed an errant strand of hair away from her face.
Overcoming the initial shock, Rachel dared to toss the idea around. As she stared into his inviting eyes, an excitement began to flare within her.
"Good," Stephen said with her silent consent.
For the first time, Mr. Shane's eyes met Rachel's. When his gaze began to crawl down her body, she found herself not only submitting to his boldness, but also growing wet in response.
"It will be my pleasure," he announced in his distant, yet captivating manner.
Rachel studied Stephen silently. His confidence and control made her ache with passion. She respected the power he possessed over her. He exercised it wisely, never abusively.
"Raise your skirt." It was a gentle demand.
Rachel hesitated only slightly before she reached back with both hands.
Stephen remained with his arms at his sides, leaving her desirously untouched.
* * * * * * * * * *
On their fourth date, Stephen stopped Rachel before leaving for dinner. "I want you to go without these," he said, sliding his hands under her short skirt and pulling down her panties.
The threat of possible exposure quickly sowed the seeds of excitement before Rachel had a chance to argue.
By the time they reached the restaurant, the feel of the leather had driven her into an insatiable lust. It grew only more uncontrollable with every new surface she came into contact.
* * * * * * * * * *
Stephen's gaze shifting reminded Rachel of Mr. Shane. Glancing back, she saw he had removed his jacket and was holding the cat-o'-nine-tails ready.
"Part your legs, Rach," Stephen requested.
Displaying her bare bottom to a stranger was an unexpected thrill and her hips pushed back involuntarily.
With her rear properly exposed, Stephen gave a nod. Rachel closed her eyes and bravely braced herself for the unknown.
Mr. Shane delivered the first strike. She had expected pain, but instead, felt only the softness of the leather straps. He waited a moment before casting the next. The second impact left her ass with a warming sensation. Mr. Shane established his intended pattern by waiting even longer before striking again.
The blows came at odd intervals, and with increasing force. The building anticipation continued to seduce Rachel while the whip's sting intensified her urge.
At some point, the whip grew more painful, and the pleasure more intense. She found herself weakening, her legs trembling. As her ache for Stephen's touch became urgent, Rachel pressed her head against his chest and provided Mr. Shane with an even better target.
When her fatigue began to become an obstacle, Stephen slipped a hand behind her waist and held her skirt up himself. Relieved of the responsibility, Rachel draped her arms around his neck and nestled into the state of security only he could provide.
The whip struck more frequently, increasing her needs. Consumed with her craving, Rachel made an effort to draw Stephen closer. He resisted--his face remained expressionless. Lost in heat and passion, she clung to him and her efforts became more frantic. She licked his neck, his ear. She rubbed her face against his stubble and relished the irritation.
"Touch me," she mouthed as his eyes bore into hers.
The next strike brought upon her a compelling need to scream--not from pain, but from desire. Stephen's adamant resistance and dominance had formed an uncontrollable force, driving her mercilessly into a sexual madness.
Not until she was skirting her limit did Stephen suddenly reach between her legs.
"Ha!" Rachel sucked in her breath. Then with the slow exhalation of a moan, she began to shake and quiver. "Ohhh, Stephen," she moaned, drenching his fingers with a flow of pure love.
The whip continued to stroke Rachel's bottom as she gratefully drifted through ecstasy. While Stephen pressed his palm against her cunt and let her grind in ways that best rendered satisfaction, each strike added more intensity to her triumph.
When the whip stopped, Rachel was still wallowing in her dreamlike state.
Stephen startled her by grabbing her wrist. "Come here," he gave her a gentle push to lean her over the counter. Impatiently, he bunched her skirt above her freshly whipped ass. "Emmm, that's nice," he murmured, glancing at Mr. Shane who stood watching. Then after caressing Rachel's burning cheeks for a moment, he released his cock and entered her with a sudden hard stroke.
"Aaahhh," Rachel moaned with satisfaction as he filled her.
He withdrew all the way and thrust into her again.
"O'yes, fuck me," she mumbled, her vaginal nerves pulsing feverishly.
Stephen's hands slid across her tummy. Leaning over her, he pressed his face against hers, then gave her another solid thrust.
"Fuck me hard, Stephen."
Instead, he held her tighter and stroked more gently. "You want it hard?"
"Yesss, I want you to pound me."
Pushing her ass back against him, Rachel forced a slight turn of her face to feel his breath.
"Did you like the whip?"
"God, yesss," she cried.
Her answer brought a smile to Stephen's face.
"Please, baby, take me. I need to feel you fucking me."
"I want to take all of you, Rach."
"What more can I give you?" she responded, crazed with desire.
"Hmmm." Stephen smiled again. Then he shut his eyes and began.
His thrusts turned hard.
Rachel let out a scream of pleasure. "Harder!"
He reached for her swollen clit. Every thrust made her shudder as the force traveled up her spine. Yet, she urged him to fuck harder. As his fingers fondled her, another surge of sexual energy began to well up.
"Stephen...I love you," she muttered, feeling him lose himself in his own pleasure. "Yesss, baby, take it all. Take everything."
Stephen pounded ferociously while his fingers continued to tend to Rachel's needs without distraction.
They came together. Their pressed bodies moved in unison--fucking, demanding satisfaction, until gradually, the intensity tapered off, and left them rocking rhythmically.
With their passion smoldering, Stephen drew Rachel into his arms and kissed her. "You all right, baby?" he asked, looking at her tenderly.
"Ohhh," she replied in a daze, "I'm fine." Then she added, "Wowww!"
He smiled and kissed her. "I love you, Rach."
"Mr. Shane, I believe Rachel is well satisfied with her choice."
Mr. Shane had slipped into his coat and resumed his position behind the counter.
"We'll leave it here, if you don't mind?"
"Certainly, Stephen," he replied with a knowing smile.
Shyly, Rachel avoided meeting Mr. Shane's eyes.
On their way out, Stephen stopped and looked at her thoughtfully. "Aren't you going to thank the nice man?"
She hesitated, embarrassed. But when she heard Mr. Shane say, "I look forward to the next time, Rachel," something in his voice encouraged her to turn.
Suddenly, she burst into a big smile and dashed over. Rising on her toes, she gave the man a peck on the cheek. Then radiating, she rushed back to Stephen.
Once more, he had drawn out her hidden needs. While the whip had thrilled her, the domination had fulfilled her.
As they walked out, Rachel felt Stephen's cum trickle down her bare thigh to her stocking. She cuddled closer and sighed contentedly.
During the next two weeks, Rachel was unable to keep the taste of the whip out of her mind. Ever since she had met Stephen, she was in a continuous sexual evolution. He revealed pleasures that, otherwise, might have remained forever secret to her. Now, he had brought her across another threshold--a realm that there certainly would be no return from.
After their visit, Stephen purposely did not mention Indulgence again. Watching Rachel's appetite for the whip grow, both pleased and excited him immensely.
* * * * * * * * * *
When Rachel looked up with her defensive green eyes at the cafe, Stephen Sanders saw the woman who could forever satisfy his desires. Her shyness, disposition, and striking beauty won his love without challenge. He vowed to turn the caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly, then prayed that she would remain to be his.
* * * * * * * * * *
Rachel's obsession grew until she could no longer function normally. On Friday, she made up her mind and took the afternoon off.
There was no listing for Indulgence. Rachel studied the map and pieced together an approximate location. She arrived unnerved and rang the bell. Just as she was having second thoughts, the door opened and Mr. Shane appeared.
Suddenly, Rachel found herself at a loss for an explanation. When he did not speak, she heard herself saying, "Please."
Mr. Shane hesitated, then stepped aside. Neither spoke--obviously both understanding what the other already knew.
Inside, he turned and pointed to the desk under the painting.
Walking slowly, Rachel felt embarrassed, but the excitement had already gripped her too firmly.
Mr. Shane removed the display from the desk, then opened the drawer and extracted a long cotton scarf. Holding it stretched, his gray eyes fixed on her daringly. "By my rules," he said to her awe-stricken expression.
Panic invaded Rachel.
"I want to blindfold you," he clarified.
She threw him a suspicious glance. "Just blindfold?" she asked, considering the prospect.
When she consented by turning her back, Mr. Shane fastened the scarf, then bent her over the desk.
With Indulgence in mind, Rachel had chosen black lingerie, a yellow buttoned-up blouse, and a short black pleated skirt. With the dark gray blazer, the outfit made a bold and provocative statement--a fair reflection of her on that day.
Having lost the advantage of sight, suddenly Rachel's other senses were more acute. Her skin tingled as Mr. Shane lifted the little woolen skirt and secured it.
"Keep your feet together," was his first instruction. Then with the lightest touch, he pulled her panties just below her cheeks. Encased in black, her white curvaceous ass made a desirable presentation.
"Very nice," Mr. Shane commented, stepping back.
For a long time Rachel sensed him admiring her displayed rear. It made her feel vulnerable.
"Yes, quite lovely," he remarked as if to aggravate the feeling. "So, the whip has possessed you, has it?"