It hurt at first. But then it got better. Just like they told her it would.
Melinda had never considered allowing anyone to tie her up. The idea of handing her body over to another person – of relinquishing her control and her womanhood to people she barely knew – had no place on her list of Things To Do Before I Die. Of course there were a lot of things Melinda would never have considered doing before the night she went to the annual company Christmas party, unescorted and conspicuously alone.
The event started off like all the Christmas parties that had gone before, with nearly everyone in attendance parading their dates before their colleagues, their overly-loud laughter and too-bright smiles making Melinda feel more out of the social fray than usual. Not fond of large gatherings, she immediately regretted her mistake in not having coerced her gay friend Joel into coming along with her. He was always a handy escort when she found herself in a pinch, particularly since he knew just when to fade into the background. But tonight Melinda didn’t want to be bogged down with a date, bogus or otherwise. She wanted to be available, just in case. She’d even brought along her credit card to splurge on a room in the swanky hotel where the party was being held. Why, she could see the misty green landscape of Hyde Park from the window already!
As it happened, the only view of Hyde Park Melinda ended up being treated to on this wet December evening was the one from the hotel lobby. Evidently the creative head of corporate advertising had far more interesting things to do with his Saturday night than spend it with the office gadabouts, unlike Melinda, who really didn’t have anything else to do on this rainy Saturday night. It was either the company Christmas party or cuddling up with the cat to watch yet another television documentary featuring a rhapsodic David Attenborough narrative on the sex lives of creepy-crawly things that live under rocks. At the moment Melinda was more concerned about her own sex life, which had definitely hit the skids.
This recent downward sexual spiral had gained some unwanted momentum thanks to Melinda’s involvement with a man from her gym. In retrospect, she probably should have realized that anyone with that many muscles spent most of his time lifting weights and none on building up a career. Therefore it didn’t take long for Melinda to decide she could easily forfeit all that hard defined male flesh in return for a steady bed partner with a steady salary and something to talk about beside abs and pecs. For after only a couple of steamy sessions, Blake and his weightlifting paraphernalia had virtually moved into her tiny flat. Granted, they were pretty good steamy sessions as steamy sessions tend to go, though certainly by no means fulfilling enough to warrant her financial support of the man – not even if his tongue claimed the distinction of being as muscular and rippling as the rest of him! Whether at her most exhausted or sexually apathetic, one dose of Blake’s hard-working tongue between her thighs would be enough to make Melinda forget the pile of paperwork waiting for her at the office. It was only too bad the rest of Blake wasn’t quite as industrious as his tongue.
As she stood by the bar sipping spicy Christmas punch from a plastic cup and nodding the occasional hello to a familiar face, Melinda’s glittery evening bag burned an embarrassing reminder against her hip. The unused Visa card that had been placed inside it with such careful premeditation before she left home for the party now made her feel like a fool. At the time it had seemed like a terribly sophisticated thing to do. But as her meticulously made-up eyes swept across the crowd of revellers searching for the one face she most wanted to see, Melinda realized that the expensive French perfume lavished behind her ears and on the insides of her thighs had been wasted, along with the outrageous sum of money that had gone towards the purchase of her new black dress, which had looked so-o-o sexy when she’d tried it on in the shop. So profound was her disappointment on what should have been a festive occasion that she considered leaving. However, all this changed when her crestfallen gaze met that of a dark-featured young man who looked as out of place as she felt.
Perhaps it was the expression of contemplative amusement in his smoky Eastern eyes that set him so apart from the others in the noisy hotel banquet room. This, and the fact that he appeared to be the only male in attendance not drinking himself into a state of obnoxiousness or risking his teeth on the dried-out chicken wings, made his presence all the more noticeable. Or at least it did to Melinda, who found his aloofness strangely appealing. This was not a man who needed to call attention to himself. And neither, for that matter, was his fair-skinned female companion. For he stood in a gaudily decorated corner elbow-to-elbow and thigh-to-thigh with the most stunning woman Melinda had ever seen: an ephemeral white-blonde with eyes as amber as a cat’s and the stealthy mouse-baiting movements to go along with them. How was Melinda to know that she would be that mouse?
Although not the sort to be physically attracted to her own gender, Melinda could not keep from staring at the feline young woman whose skin looked like it had been made from finely crushed pearls, just as she found it equally difficult to keep from staring at the café au lait young man whose conflicting features were every bit as striking as those of his companion. Melinda knew she was being fairly obvious about it, but she didn’t mind if the couple noticed her interest. In fact, she secretly wanted them to. The contrast the pair made against the raucous backdrop of braying corporate types populating the area gave Melinda the impression they had wandered into the party by mistake or else out of boredom and the desire for a free drink. Either that or the Christmas punch had been more punched-up than usual and she had begun to hallucinate. Nevertheless, there was nothing at all hallucinatory about the sudden rush of moisture soaking the gusset of the black silk panties Melinda wore beneath her dress.
No one had spoken in the taxi. The only sounds were those of the London rain pattering teasingly against the vehicle’s rolled-up windows and the ever-present chig-chig-chig of the diesel engine as this silent threesome made their way north towards Mill Hill. By now the drunken hilarity of the holiday celebrants had faded to a distant memory in Melinda’s ears. Her breath grew heavy and increasingly ragged as she found herself being pleasantly squeezed between the two party crashers in the taxi’s generous back seat, the sexually charged warmth of their bodies hinting at the delightful things to come, as did the flirtatious dance of their fingertips upon her widening thighs. Melinda had not said goodbye to her coworkers or informed them of her impetuous decision to accompany the mysterious couple to wherever they happened to be taking her on this soggy December evening. Unwise perhaps on her part, but tonight Melinda did not want to be her practical and reliable old self. Tonight she wanted to be someone else: the kind of someone who didn’t care about things like caution.
For the man and woman pressing themselves so provocatively against Melinda’s hips and thighs had shown no sign of knowing their fellow partygoers, which confirmed her suspicion that they had not been invited. Although why anyone would have wanted to crash a boring company Christmas do was a mystery. Much as it was a mystery why from out of a roomful of stunning females Melinda should be the one singled out as she stood about drinking punch in her brand-new black cocktail dress – one that looked indistinguishable from all the other black cocktail dresses being worn. Melinda, who did not classify herself as being in the drop-dead gorgeous league, nevertheless grew hotter and wetter by the minute at the thought of what would be done to her after the taxi had dropped them at their destination.
Indeed, Melinda would be made to feel anything but average tonight, despite the fact that every part of her average self would be exposed to these two very un-average strangers. Her arms would be drawn back and bound with deftly executed expertise in a complex macramé of silken cord that even she would have agreed was a work of art in itself, had she been able to see behind her. Although perhaps it was just as well Melinda could not, since she would have shrieked with embarrassment at the sight of her unfolded buttocks and the lubricated pink plug of latex being inserted between them.
Masculine fingers formed dark fans across Melinda’s fleshy rear cheeks as their smoky-eyed owner’s female companion dropped onto her haunches to place the intrusive object inside the wriggling backside before her. In her present state of restraint, Melinda’s hips would pretty much be about the only thing she could move. Had she tried to kick out with her feet, it would have been impossible. The braided length of cord looping around her ankles had been woven into the elaborate network of knots trapping her arms behind her, forcing Melinda into a pose of helpless subservience. Considering the circumstances, she found it curious not to be feeling any fear when she could do nothing to act in her own defence.
“Relax, Melinda,” the man advised matter-of-factly as he checked her bonds. “Allow yourself to get used to the pain. Your reward will be so much greater.”
“Don’t fight it,” concurred his female partner, placing a not-too-gentle cat’s bite upon Melinda’s flinching right buttock as emphasis. “You’ll only make it harder for yourself.”
Despite the reassurances of this appealing couple in whose hands she had perhaps foolishly placed herself, Melinda’s instincts took over and she tried to eject the foreign presence from her rectum. Her efforts proved futile, however, for the object refused to budge thanks to a unique design that thwarted even the most determined attempts to expel it. The more force she used, the more the latex filled her, expanding like a dry sponge in liquid until Melinda would finally come to accept the fact that she had lost all ability to control what was being done to her body. There could be no going back for her now.
During all this time, not a word of protest would be put forth by the couple’s helpless captive. For Melinda’s mouth had already been fitted with a gag of sorts: a blue silk kerchief that would have looked more appropriate fluted to a crisp point in a gentleman’s coat pocket than in the lipstick-smeared mouth of a bound and naked female at the complete sexual mercy of two individuals whose names she neither knew nor had bothered to ask. Speaking of which, how did the man know her name? Melinda was certain she had not told him or the woman. Actually, she had made a point not to tell them much of anything.
“Everyone has to have a first time.”
The soft feminine purr of a voice startled Melinda, whose recent acceptance of her circumstances had not as yet extended to her latex intruder. So involved had she become in the act of ridding herself of its offending presence that her muscles were as tightly knotted as her bonds. Suddenly she realized how absurdly self-defeating it was to be struggling like this. Deciding to defer to the couple’s advice, Melinda tried to relax. She closed her eyes and began to breathe deeply through her nostrils, willing the tension to leave her body until all that remained was a tension in her chest from her wildly thudding heart and an increasingly wild thudding from her vulva.
Melinda felt the amber-eyed woman’s breath blowing a hot caress against her buttocks and she sighed into her silken gag. Having managed to calm down a bit, she would be surprised to discover that what was being done to her did not feel at all unpleasant. On the contrary, the cleverly designed series of ridges she’d observed on the surface of the plug before it had gone disappearing in a pink blur behind her gave rise to thoughts and desires she would never have admitted to aloud. For in the privacy of her mind Melinda caught herself wishing that the object penetrating her was not made of bloodless latex, but of hard male flesh – the engorged heated flesh she had been made to taste before her lips were fitted with the blue kerchief. She could still taste the dark-featured young man’s slippery fluids in her mouth, along with the sweeter tang of his partner, whose moist female folds Melinda’s tongue had likewise been called upon to please before its capacity to do so had been temporarily stifled.
While pondering what it might be like to be used this way by the nameless man whose hands held her open to the latex, Melinda’s thoughts drifted towards such a seduction being undertaken by someone she actually knew, or at least saw nearly every day. Although she’d never confided her feelings to even her closest friends, Melinda had been suffering from a year-long infatuation with a work-mate – in fact, the very same work-mate who had been absent from the Christmas party and for whom Melinda would have gladly forfeited a week’s salary in exchange for a hotel room, Hyde Park view or not! Unfortunately Caleb worked in a different department in what seemed to be a world away from her own, which only made it harder for Melinda to come up with a legitimate-sounding excuse to seek him out during office hours. She was a number cruncher and he a creative genius, two factors that didn’t do much to bring them together.
Getting a man into her bed had never been a difficult task for Melinda. However, all that changed thanks to Caleb, whose oblivious demeanour shook her self-confidence. Perhaps she wasn’t his type. Maybe he wanted a woman who looked like a celebrity or something. Maybe if genetics had blessed her with a few more credits on the impossibly gorgeous side of the ledger, she might have made an effort to strike up a conversation in the canteen or in the courtyard when Caleb drifted outside for a smoke. The problem was, every time Melinda got ready to initiate a casual confrontation, someone else would beat her to it: that someone generally being another female whose physical attributes and in-your-face sexuality far outweighed Melinda’s own. Well, Caleb was probably too young for her anyway. For all she knew, he might even be gay. At least this would be what Melinda kept telling herself whenever Caleb turned in her direction, only to look straight through her as his lips sucked the smoke through the filtered tip of his cigarette. Oh, how Melinda wanted her clitoris to be that filter tip!
Caleb’s impervious features shattered into red-hot fragments of pain as the young woman with the latex plug turned her attentions elsewhere by attaching a pair of small metal clips onto Melinda’s upstanding nipples. The effect was like tiny teeth biting into the rubbery points and their startled recipient shuddered violently, prompting a disapproving tsk-tsk from her female tormentor, who readjusted the clips so they nipped more cruelly into the sensitive flesh. Melinda resumed the deep nasal breathing that had worked so well to calm her before and the pain in her nipples began to recede, giving way to a vexing heat. It was a heat that gravitated lower and lower and whose capacity to ignite a conflagration made itself apparent when another pair of metal clips were clamped onto Melinda’s hairless vaginal lips.
Like the silent young woman wielding these bizarre tools of pleasure, Melinda had also been shaved to a virginal plain, leaving nothing secret and no sensation muted. Granted, she had received quite a shock when she found herself being confronted by a safety razor the moment she had stepped across the threshold of this innocuous-looking Mill Hill house, only to be twisted and contorted until every hair both topside and rear had been hunted down and excised out of existence. Had it been the man wielding the blade rather than his pearly-skinned collaborator, Melinda would have been too mortified to go through with the evening. But as the metal teeth of the clips sank provocatively into her intimate flesh and pain and pleasure blended into one, she knew she was ready for anything.
Melinda giggled into her gag at the thought of her tipsy colleagues at the party, the highlight of their evening the free-flowing liquor and the equally free-flowing office gossip, none of which was likely to include her. Good old reliable Melinda, every corporation’s wet dream. You could always count on her to stay late and finish the job. After all, she had nowhere important to run off to. There were no Calebs waiting for her at the pub or at that romantic new Italian restaurant with candles and Chianti on the tables; nor were there any bottles of California Chardonnay chilling in the fridge for later when they went back to her place. Indeed, never would these party-goers have imagined the sexy scenario taking place a few miles to the north – a scenario featuring a pair of expertly twittering tongues acting in symphonic harmony upon the innermost contours of Melinda’s clipped-open labia. Of course this wouldn’t be the first time she’d been underestimated!
Glancing down at the heads of dark and light paying homage to her shaved sex, Melinda shook with the desire to touch this anonymous man and woman who had entered her life only hours ago. She wanted to feel their beautiful faces with her fingertips as their tongues worked with such artistry on her clitoris and its moist surroundings. But part of the bargain of her pleasure had been the inability to exert any control over what was being done to her. The gym-toned muscles in Melinda’s arms and shoulders ached with frustration, much as they had ached earlier when going to her knees before the bared and expectant genitals of her hosts, who orchestrated the movements of their guest’s mouth to their exclusive benefit, inspiring from Melinda’s tongue a boldness she never knew it possessed. Yes, perhaps she even underestimated herself.
It had been easier with the man, who thrust his penis to and fro in her mouth like one might a vagina. Keeping hold of Melinda’s chin-length chestnut hair, he pumped her open mouth to the point at which she thought her jaw would break, exacting punitive glances against her throat before finally emptying himself with a sharp cry on her tongue. For the first time in her life Melinda did not experience the urge to spit out a man’s pleasure. Instead she wondered if the aloof Caleb would taste as sweet as this dark stranger who had forced himself upon her surprisingly eager mouth. “How lovely you are,” he replied afterwards in a husky whisper, leaning down to kiss Melinda’s sticky lips before surrendering her to the amber-eyed female waiting with impatience at his side. Melinda had nearly forgotten about the other woman, so mesmerized had she been by her unquestioning submission to the man towering above her humbly posed form. However, she would promptly learn that his delicately featured sidekick was not the sort to let herself be forgotten.
Performing orally on another woman would be far more complicated than the straightforward techniques needed with a man, particularly when the recipient happened to be no shrinking violet when it came to making her desires known. Melinda found her hair being grasped in the same manner as before, albeit with substantially more ruthlessness as the expensively cropped chestnut strands were almost ripped from the root. “Get to it, Melinda!” the woman ordered with a cavalier toss of her white-blonde head, her characteristic kittenish purr now a caustic bark.
Melinda felt a forbidden tingle between her thighs at hearing her name being uttered in conjunction with such a demand. The tingle gained in intensity, reaching near-orgasmic proportions when the young woman proceeded to rub her shaved and fragrant mound against Melinda’s lips until arching her cat’s spine in orgasm. Although she had never been involved sexually with her own gender, Melinda was not shy to thrust her tongue inside her partner’s cream-filled vagina at the moment of her own climax, which had been achieved without any physical means other than the ghostly sensations of the pair of tongues that had gone before. It reminded her of the stealthy orgasms she experienced while asleep and which, upon awakening, would be followed by the discovery of her hands situated in innocent repose at her sides.
Melinda reflected often on that night of self-discovery in Mill Hill. Although she wouldn’t have minded repeating the occasion, she hadn’t been in contact with the man and woman responsible for giving her so much pleasure. The temptation to flag down a taxi and pay them a visit was one that became harder and harder to resist, especially since she had jotted down the street number of their house upon arriving back at her flat. But Melinda didn’t believe they would be there when she arrived. The house had had a temporary feel to it, as if the occupants were just using the place for a quick layover on their way to other adventures, which probably included other Melindas. From what she could recall from the dizzying erotic haze she’d been in, the house had offered little in the way of furnishings– not that Melinda had been particularly interested in interior design that evening! Well, perhaps such things were best left as treasured memories, since it seemed doubtful that the overwhelming intensity of sensation she had been subjected to at the controlling hands of these two nameless and exotic strangers would ever be repeated. Even so, Melinda did not feel at all regretful. The dark young man and his amber-eyed companion had jolted her out of the humdrum dregs of daily life and taught her about her body’s ability to achieve pleasure – a pleasure gained through restraint and pain. She had heard about people who got off on such sexual kinks, but had never bought into the pleasure-pain myth. Until now.
By the time she returned to the office after the Christmas break, Melinda had convinced herself that the couple had never existed. What had happened could only have taken place in her mind – a vivid erotic fantasy no doubt inspired by her year-long infatuation with Caleb. As she settled in for the first work week of the new year, she was surprised to find among all the pre-holiday clutter on her desk a tiny box covered in expensive wrapping paper. A late Christmas gift, was her first thought as she searched for an accompanying card. “Do you happen to know who left this on my desk?” Melinda called out to her assistant when her efforts to locate a card identifying the gift-bearer proved futile. A highly detail-oriented person, it annoyed Melinda when holiday gifts were not given on time.
“It was there when I came in this morning,” came the assistant’s unhelpful answer.
Melinda turned the little package every which way, puzzling over its contents. The box looked like the kind that contained earrings or a pendant. Not in the habit of wearing much in the way of jewellery, Melinda relied on her trusty pearl earrings for most situations, especially since joining the conservative ranks of corporate management. She had never been what anyone would have called a flashy person; therefore she hoped this mysterious gift would be something she could use, because if the giver hadn’t bothered to leave a card, it was also unlikely a sales receipt had been enclosed in the event it became necessary to return the item.
Melinda waited for her assistant to leave before taking a letter opener to the attractive wrapping paper. She could not understand why her hands were trembling over something so ridiculously mundane as a pair of earrings; she could barely manage the elementary task of prying off the little lid. All at once Melinda cried out with remembered pain, for lying incongruously upon a dainty square of cotton was a pair of metal clips. They looked identical to the metal clips that had been clamped to her nipples and vulva not even three weeks ago. But surely that was impossible!
Melinda felt herself growing wet from the phantom sensations inspired by the unexpected reappearance of the clips and she squeezed her thighs together to calm the chaos taking place between them. Her face burned with embarrassment as she wondered who in the office might have been privy to the lascivious events of several nights ago. A folded square of paper had been tucked halfway beneath the bed of cotton and she plucked it out. To her frustration, it provided no clue as to the identity of her bondage-minded gift giver. All it offered by way of explanation was the word Tonight, along with a Maida Vale address. The note had been penned in a meticulous hand, the execution of the letters so tightly controlled and precise that Melinda could feel the intricate weave of silken cording which for one night had placed her in bondage. It would be all she could do to fight the impulse to relieve herself with her fingers right there at her desk.
With a similar sense of destiny to that which she’d experienced on her way to Mill Hill the rainy evening of the company Christmas party, Melinda took a taxi to the address on the note, the distinctive chig-chig-chig of the diesel engine adding an erotic sense of déjà vu to the occasion. The driver deposited her at the wrought-iron gate of a charming ivy-covered mews house, where from behind lace curtains a gentle light illuminated the mullioned windows. Melinda thought she saw a tall shadow move past the one nearest the door, although she could not tell whether the shadow belonged to a man or a woman.
Ever so slowly Melinda made her way up the cobbled walk, taking a perverse pleasure in prolonging the moment before she would at last come face-to-face with the person or persons who had summoned her. For it had, indeed, been a summons she’d received. The handsomely painted front door opened before she would even be given a chance to ring the bell.
“Hello, Melinda.”
Melinda gasped aloud as the wetness that had been plaguing her ever since unwrapping her Christmas gift that morning soaked the gusset of her blue silk panties. She had specifically chosen to wear them this evening because they were the same shade of blue as the silk kerchief the couple from Mill Hill had used to bind her mouth with.
For standing before Melinda was the impervious young man who for the past year had occupied her thoughts and been the inspiration for her orgasms, the man she assumed never noticed her, who looked right through her as if she were invisible. But he was not doing so now. Instead the lips she had so often observed sucking the smoke through the filter tip of his cigarette formed a sardonic smile.
Caleb stepped forwards, a safety razor held ready in his right hand. “You can’t imagine how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he replied softly.
“And she’s definitely worth the wait, darling,” came a familiar female voice. Melinda felt a sudden shift in the air as the feline presence of the young woman who had seduced her bound figure came into focus, followed by her smoky-eyed male conspirator.
“I understand you have already met my good friends Stephanie and Naveen?” Caleb looked deliberately into Melinda’s astonished eyes, as if the question needed no answer.
Naveen’s café au lait fingertips reached forward to stroke Melinda’s cheek. “Wasn’t it thoughtful of Caleb to have invited us to the company Christmas party?”
Caleb’s smile widened. “Oh, but the party is only just beginning.”