Pretty Woman Ch. 01

Then I heard a door open and close down the passageway – Teresa was back.

She came to my room, and I got out of the chair to see what she had brought. To my surprise, she had been followed in by a young guy, helping her carry a huge bunch of bags and boxes, all emblazoned with the names of stores. She spread them all out on my bed, and my eyes widened when I started to look at what they contained. There were three evening gowns in one huge plastic bag, hanging from silk-padded hangers. When I shook them out, I saw they were all silky creations, a backless halter-necked gown in silver, a long scarlet dress with a deep, deep decolleté, and a slim, long black lace sheath, with long sleeves and a high neck. There were two long white Indian cotton dresses with lace trim, very feminine, two button-through cotton print every-day dresses, two lovely cocktail numbers, an almost completely transparent white organdie dress with lots of tiny pleats, and several skirts and blouses. I looked in the Victoria's Secret bag, and found a white whale-boned corset with a criss-cross lace fastening, a couple of little garter belts, a platform quarter-bra, two silk slips, two long silk nightdresses like the one I had worn to bed, and several pairs of stockings. No panties were to be found at all. In another bag, she had brought a lot of gold or gold-plated jewellery – I couldn't tell the difference – and there were boxes containing three pairs of shoes, all very high stilettos. One pair of strappy sandals I particularly liked had silver needle heels.

'I hope you like what I have fetched,' said Teresa.

'I'm just staggered!'

'Master Lars is a very generous man.'

I wanted to ask her more, but she turned on her heel, saying, 'The Master will be home in about an hour. I must get lunch.' With that, she was gone, leaving me gazing wonderingly at my new wardrobe.

Lunch, I thought, as I decided what to put on – better be something not too dressy. I chose a pleated, flared miniskirt in shiny dark green material, and a simple white silk blouse. I slipped into a satin garter belt and cinched on white stockings with lacy tops. A pair of long gold drop-ear-rings and the sandals I had liked so much completed my ensemble.

'You look fucking gorgeous,' I said to the mirror, as I stood in front of it, brushing my long black hair until it shone.

Lars walked in just as I was helping Teresa set the table.

'You look good enough to eat,' he said.

'You can eat me if you want,' I said, treating him to a lascivious glance.

'I know that,' he said, 'you are, after all, my slave!'

I decided this was really all a question of role-playing – I would go along with him.

'Did you like the book?' he asked.

'Yes, but it gets a bit exaggerated towards the end, doesn't it?'

'It's a bit allegorical, I think.'

I didn't really understand what he meant, but I nodded my agreement.

'Did you get excited by it?'

'I started to get…..wet, when Anne is…….'

'When she is whipped?' he interjected.

I lowered my eyes, and nodded sheepishly.

'Well, I hope it has done a little to help you understand the relationship between pain and pleasure?' He looked hard at me.

'Yes, I think so.'

He changed the subject, and suggested we eat, but as we did so, my mind kept coming back to the willing Anne, and I thought I began to understand a little more. I looked surreptitiously at Lars, but he caught my eye, and an unspoken thing passed between us I couldn't begin to explain.

But when Teresa served him his main dish, she said, 'Would you like more, sir?'

'I think you too should address me as "sir,"' he said to me.

It felt natural. 'Yes sir,' I replied.

After we had eaten, Lars sat back with his coffee and a brandy, and said to me, 'In a few moments, I'd like to start your training. Would you like that?'

'Yes, sir.'

'You will not be punished too heavily today, but I think it's important that we establish our relative positions, so I have devised a little trial, for want of a better word.'

He took a final draught of brandy, then stood and walked around behind me. I felt his hands on my neck, then a heavy sensation as he took them away. At his command, Teresa fetched a hand-mirror, and I saw that he had put a snug-fitting choker around my neck – a sparkling, gem-encrusted collar about an inch wide, with a silver ring set into it at my throat. He then handed me a matching belt just too short to fit around my slender waist, but which had a clasp at one end, and a silver chain, perhaps a foot long, at the other.

'This goes loosely around your waist, and the end should dangle around your pussy,' he said, 'you must never take these items off.'

I got up and was just about to put my waist-decoration on, when he said, 'Not now, my dear. Come, I'll show you downstairs.'

Downstairs? I wondered where he could possibly mean, but all was revealed when he led me to the door I had found locked that morning. It was open, and Lars called down some stone steps that led down from it: 'Ready for us, Teresa?'

'Yes, sir, all ready!'

He led me down the rough stone steps into a basement, well lit by wall sconces. I looked around in astonishment. It was, in effect, a dungeon, with rough stone walls, though they looked as if they had been sealed, and the whole place was clean and tidy. Against the far wall a St Andrew's Cross had been secured to the stonework, and chains with snap-links dangling at their ends hung from a stout beam that ran the length of the chamber. A contraption like a vaulting-horse had a big phallus seated at its highest point – its purpose needed no explanation. A pillar which supported the beam had heavy-duty rings set into it at various heights. There were other artifacts too, but I couldn't see what they were. I was, however, relieved to see that what looked like a big steel brazier, with latticed sides wasn't lit, even though it looked as if it contained coal, and evil-looking irons projected from it. I looked at Lars, and he seemed proud of his lair.

'Welcome to my basement,' he said – he obviously didn't want to call it a dungeon. 'This is for you!' He indicated a low coffee table, and I now saw, to my horror, what Teresa had been doing. The surface was covered with thumb-tacks, all pointing upwards. Before I had time to think about it, Lars had unbuttoned my blouse, and was pulling it off my shoulders.

Teresa stood and watched impassively as he said, harshly, 'On your knees, in front of the table!' I knelt on the rough, cold stone floor, trembling with fearful anticipation.

'Oh no – please, sir, you can't be going to……..' I stammered, but for an answer, he pushed my back and forced me down, down, onto the awful surface of the table. It was liking being stung simultaneously by hundreds of black-fly, as the little spike penetrated my breasts and right down to my waist. But I had barely time to scream before I was dimly aware through the excruciating pain that my skirt was being lifted, and something was poking at my anus. Then came the dreadful, tearing, wonderful sensation as Lars' stiff prick pounded remorselessly into my asshole, pushing me, at the same time, further across the cruel surface of the table, so that more pins stuck into me.

I was far from being an anal virgin, but I had always insisted on clients using lubricant before they fucked me there, and the fact that Lars had entered me dry, coupled with the length of his weapon, would have been sufficient to make it a painful experience, but the stinging pain of the myriad tacks was enough to make me scream with each powerful thrust he gave me. Somehow, I noticed that Teresa had knelt in front of me and was kissing me on the lips, fondling my hair, as my 'trial' went on. But I had to shrug her off in order to breathe, as a monstrous orgasm welled up within me. I screamed even louder as he stiffened against me, and I felt the heat of his steaming load shoot up into my bowel as I, too, came.

I was in a hurry to get off the terrible table, and pull off the pins that had stayed stuck to me. My whole torso was a mass of tiny pin-pricks, and blood was dotted all over me, especially my breasts.

Lars said, calmly, 'You seem to have passed your first test, my dear – now let Teresa take care of you. She will know what to do.'

I went back upstairs with the maid, my knees wobbling after the punishment I had taken. She treated me with antiseptic lotion, and her kiss lingered on my lips long after she had finished. I needed to have a long siesta.

When I awoke, two hours later, Lars was smiling down at me. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, and I knew then that he could never drive me away, no matter what he did to me – I would die happily for him. I also knew somehow that he had started to really care for me, and that he would not do me lasting harm.

'Are you alright?' he asked, solicitously.

'Yes thank you, sir,' I told him, 'just a bit sore.'

'I probably overdid it a bit for the first time. I'm sorry, my dear.'

'It's OK,' I said, 'I understand.'

'Yes, I do believe you do. Anyway, make yourself beautiful for dinner, because I have to be away tomorrow, and shall not be back until the next morning. At least it'll give you time to recover.' He smiled as he said it, and bent to kiss my forehead lightly before he went out of the room.

After admiring my reflection in the mirror, with my new collar and waist-decoration in place, and the tiny wounds caused by the thumbtacks dotted all over me, I put on the red gown, and took my usual care over my make-up and hair, before heading for the lounge, where I could smell my new master's cigar smoke. He rose from an armchair to greet me.

'You look wonderful, my dear,' he said, 'do sit down, because I neeed to tell you some things about your training.'

When I was settled in an armchair opposite to him, he put out his cigar, and faced me.

'As I told you, I shall have to be away from tomorrow morning until mid-afternoon the next day, Saturday. Please rest well and relax until I return. Your training will then be resumed. I think I shall whip you for the first time when I return. You will have noticed that your clothing includes two long cotton dresses. You will wear one of them whenever you are to be whipped, nothing else. You lovely hair should be pinned up. In your top drawer, you will find leather bracelets and anklets, which you must also put on for those occasions. I should like you to connect your ankles and your wrists separately with the chains you will also find in the drawer. Then you will come to me, barefoot.

Another thing; although your asshole gave me pleasure, I think it needs to be enlarged, and some of my friends who may wish to use you are thicker than I. I have had a chair prepared specially for you. I should be obliged if you would sit on it for dinner. Then I will give you a set of little balls to play with.' He smiled, 'any questions?'

'Yes, sir. You speak of some of your friends using me?'

'Certainly, my dear. You are going to make me proud of you, I know, and I shall, of course, wish to show you – and your attributes – to some of my friends, male and female.'

I wasn't sure I liked the idea of that, but kept quiet as he gestured for me to go through for dinner.

I gulped when I saw my chair. Screwed down to it was an immense, tapered plastic cone, placed towards the back of the seat. At its biggest diameter, it must have been nearly two-and-a-half inches across.

'I'll never get that inside me,' I protested.

'I've lubricated it for you,' he said, 'let me help you with your dress.'

He lifted up the hem of my lovely dress, and helped spread it around me as I lowered myself nervously onto the cone. As it began to penetrate me, I wriggled around a little, and soon found the slick plastic sliding up my asshole more easily than I had imagined. I impaled myself fully on it, and its grotesque dimensions seemed to be splitting me in two at first, but the awful pain began to ease as I squirmed to get comfortable. All the time, Lars was smiling at me, enjoying my discomfort.

'How did you know exactly where to fix it?' I asked, because it had penetrated me at a perfect angle.

'I tried it myself,' he said, and laughed. It was an exciting meal.

That night, I lay awake pondering over my situation. I thought about being whipped, trying to imagine the pain as his whip fell across my naked body. It couldn't hurt as much as those thumbtacks puncturing my soft flesh – could it? Just thinking about it made me wet, and my last waking thought was of how much I had come to love Lars, how much I longed for his prick. He could do anything to me that he wished.

When I woke next morning, my positive mood hadn't evaporated, and I luxuriated in the feel of the soft silk of my nightgown, making the comparison between it and the oversize tee-shirt I would have been wearing as I awoke on the creaky single bed in my crummy fourth floor walk-up.

Teresa knocked and brought my breakfast tray.

'Has Lars gone?' I asked.

She told me he had gone almost an hour ago.

'Why don't you come and join me?' I asked, 'you can't have a lot to do today.' As soon as I'd said it, I wondered where the idea came from. I wasn't, after all, a Lesbian. But there was something vulnerable yet erotic about the little maid that appealed to me.

'Oh, Miss Kate, that would be lovely,' she replied, 'but I'm all dirty from housework.'

'Then go take a shower while I have my breakfast.'

With that, she left me to my croissants.

When she returned, she was wearing a silk slip, and had let her hair loose from her habitual pony-tail. She looked very pretty.

I patted the bed beside me, and she sat down, bringing with her a whiff of her flowery cologne. I pulled her towards me, and she made no attempt to resist as I lifted up the hem of her slip, and laid my hands on her small, firm young breasts. Her nipples grew immediately under my touch, and she opened her mouth slightly as I kissed her – enough for me to slip my tongue in between her teeth, She moaned, a sweet sound from somewhere deep within her, and this encouraged me to slide a hand down her lithe, slender body, over her smooth mound, and into her neat, somehow secretive slit. Her breathing got shallow now, as I sought the tiny nub of her clit, which, like her nipples, responded to my touch, stiffening and growing.

'Oh Miss Kate,' she said, 'I've been wanting you since I first saw you. Make love to me!'

Apart from a little fumbling back in my early teens, I had never really had the urge to make love to another girl, and it was the very first time I had kissed another woman passionately. I liked it.

As my fingers flicked at her clit, she parted her legs further, and, without leaving off kissing me, slipped a hand between her legs, and spread her labia wide. I felt her wet warmth and slid two fingers deep into her cunt, bringing a deep groan from her. I finger-fucked her until her breathing became rapid, then topped, and finished kissing her mouth. I had another use for my tongue.

I signalled for her to flip around, and we were soon in the '69' position. She nestled under the hem of my silk nightgown, and, at first tentatively, then more firmly, she ran her tongue up the insides of my thighs, causing a delicious sensation, and the mot fantastic anticipatory thrill. I squirmed in her arms.

'Oh, Teresa, fuck me with your tongue, please!' I gasped, and she obediently plunged her long tongue hard into my sopping wet cunt.

We tongue-fucked each other furiously, until I could hold off no longer.

'I'm cumming!' I spluttered, my mouth full of her sweet juice, and a beautiful, drenching orgasm swept over me – I was sure Teresa came almost simultaneously.

We lay together for much of the rest of the morning, only getting up when Teresa said she had to get some lunch ready. After she had left me, I decided with a smile that I was never going to characterise myself as 'straight' – or 'gay.' I was just me.

We ate lunch together, then I spent much of the afternoon between the gymnasium and Lars' extensive library. In the evening we dressed and went out to a local bar, where we drew many an admiring glance.

Next day was Saturday, and I awoke excited, knowing that Lars would return. His collar around my neck, and the heavy belt around my waist, were constant reminders that I belonged to him, even when I was in bed alone, and I found myself masturbating quietly whenever I thought about him, and the sort of things I imagined he would do to me.

I was determined to look my best when he arrived, and, after lunch, got Teresa to put my hair up, using her considerable skill, and to help with my make-up. She also gave me, without a word, a pair of connected balls, which I knew Lars wanted me to keep in my anus.

'What do you think I should wear?' I asked her.

'The Master likes some very tight things,' she suggested – she meant 'restraint' gear.

Tht gave me a clue, and I found the white corset in my drawer. Offering it up to my body, I looked in the mirror, and nodded to myself.

'You'll have to help me with this,' I told Teresa, as I slipped off my robe.

I put on the stiffly whale-boned garment, and buttoned it up the front. It already felt tight and restricted my breathing, but when Teresa took hold of the ends of the laces and tugged hard, I gasped, as I found myself squeezed beyond belief. But then she took the ends of a strap which ran around my waist, and buckled it so tight it brought tears to my eyes. When I looked at my image in the mirror, my waist was tiny, and my breasts were lifted high, their nipples pointing above the horizontal. With difficulty, I sat down and rolled on pair of white lace-top stockings, which I cinched to the long garter straps of my corset.

'But what should I wear over this, do you think?' I asked Teresa.

'I'll get it out for you,' she said, and a moment later she had handed me a hanger, from which hung the white organdie number with the tiny pleats all around. I lifted it over my head, and the soft material whispered down over my breasts, enveloping me in its luxury. It was no more than mid-thigh length, loose, unbelted and sleeveless, trimmed with lace at the high neckline and hem. In the mirror, my corset was entirely visible under the practically tranparent dress, and my nipples thrust out at it in a highly suggestive way. I wore the highest heels I had, lubricated the pleasure-balls, and popped them into my asshole, and felt ready to face Lars when he arrived.

What I hadn't expected at all, was that he would be bringing guests!

I ran to meet him, my heels clicking on the marble floor, acuteely conscious of the balls in my ass - and stopped short when I saw that he had brought a couple with him, my mouth falling open in surprise.

Lars looked me up and down, as he might have inspected a horse, then turned to the svelte blonde who had followed him through the door, and had still not shed her astrakhan coat, which must have cost a fortune.

'This is Katherine,' he said, 'you must forgive her mode of dress – she isn't used to meeting civilised people!' I felt as if I could crawl under the door – I wished I could be somewhere – anywhere – else.

I shook hands with the blonde, and she was introduced as Selina. Her eyes went to my nipples, and I was sure she licked her lips as she studied them, though the gesture was minimal.

Selina's husband took her coat, leaving her in a short red velvet dress, which moulded itself to her slim form. I had time to notice that she wore black seamed stocking before it was her husband's turn to be introduced. Marcelo was a good deal older than his wife, with greying, wavy hair and a languid manner.