© Copyright 2009 - RestrainedSybarite - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/f; costume; party; vacbed; tease; toys; cons; X
Author's forward : This is the first story I've ever submitted while under a deadline; and will likely see the largest audience of anything I've written to date. I would appreciate feedback, and greatly appreciate anyone with enough energy to send me a critique. Please, let me know if you like it, let me know if you hate it; but either way, please let me know why.
To contact the author, remove the African animals from the following e-mail address :
Now, get to reading and I hope you enjoy it! :)
1 - Interoffice Mail
The offices of DeVrie Paper Products International while being designed for function did not lack in form. The normally austere concrete and glass exterior of such edifices was not to be found here, in its place the architect had chosen warm stone and brick. Instead of being made to occupy a single monolithic structure to house workers in a beehive environment, the offices were spread among several smaller buildings in a manner reminiscent of a sprawling college campus. The grounds were kept well manicured, and the landscaping provided numerous nooks where workers could steal quiet time in the greenery during their breaks.
It was a complex Penelope DeVrie, CEO and sole owner of the company, took pride in. Her employees were always well cared for, from the design of the company's offices to extending an option for affordable health care to part time workers. Their well being was a part of her responsibilities; and she would be remiss to do anything less than provide them with a pleasant work environment, adequate pay, and peace of mind. After all, it was their toil that provided the company with its power, and her leadership that gave it direction; neither could be effective without the other. Their work allowed her to enjoy a privileged lifestyle, in turn she assured they had every opportunity to excel and shared in the company's profits.
The door of her car closed with its familiar thunk, and Penelope made her way to the building that housed her office. She cut an intimidating figure through the halls and up the stairs that led to the northeast corner of the fourth floor. She was tall to begin with, and her four inch heels pushed her to two inches above six feet. Her business suit, while conservative with the length of the skirt and midnight blue color, was expertly tailored and accented the curves of her well proportioned form. Straight onyx hair cascaded to the middle of her back. It was kept off her shoulders and out of the way by a blue ribbon tied tightly around it in an elaborate bow just below the level of her neck. Long bangs framed a pleasant angular face that was entirely feminine while still containing a hint of power usually reserved for a man's presence. That intimation of power was the direct result of the setting of eyes that shone like pale blue chips of glacial ice.
Matsuko, Penelope's executive secretary, sat dutifully at her desk outside the office. Like every morning, there was a hot mug of black coffee sitting at the side of Matsuko's desk, waiting for Penelope to pick it up; and like every morning Penelope picked it up with a smile and a nod to Matsuko. The executive secretary was something of a contrast to her boss. She was short, even for a Japanese woman, topping out at five feet without shoes. Her straight black hair was maintained in a pageboy cut that flattered her features. Eyes the color of oiled mahogany were suggestive of her will of iron. She preferred satin blouses, pencil skirts, and practical low rise footwear. This day found her in a pretty black and white ensemble. Her very best asset though was her smile. She'd been blessed with one of those smiles that was both genuine and contagious, and she was no miser when it came to sharing it with others.
The morning routine went as it usually did, with Penelope picking her mug of coffee off of Matsuko's desk and then retreating inside of her office for ten minutes to settle in and let the caffeine touch her system. Matsuko came in after, going over the day's schedule and any messages. For the most part, it was business as usual; the business of running a business. There was an exception though, an inquiry from authorities in Germany needed immediate attention; apparently there was a concern one of the companies DeVrie products was doing business with might be supplying counterfeiters. It was not the first time this kind of concern had been brought to Penelope's attention nor would it be the last. It wasn't common, but it did go hand in hand with the paper products business.
When the lunch hour arrived it found Matsuko and Penelope in Penelope's office, discussing the rescheduling of a meeting and the afternoon's affairs. The issue in Germany had been resolved with Penelope agreeing to impregnate the next shipment of DeVrie's paper with a harmless chemical marker. If her products were being used by counterfeiters, it would now be easily detectable under a special light source.
There was a knock on the door followed by a timid female voice. "Miss DeVrie?"
Matsuko and Penelope both wondered who it was, but it was Penelope that answered. "Yes?"
There was a pause. "Uhm. Mail for you Miss DeVrie."
Comprehension dawned on the women in the office. It was the interoffice mail. It was early, and it was the new girl delivering it. "Leave it on Ms. Akihara's desk."
There was another pause, and the voice sounded both timid and nervous. "Mister Bester said I had to receive acknowledgement for all articles delivered. No exceptions."
Penelope smiled inside. It figured. Young Mr. Bester had been the previous mail clerk. He had a particular penchant, almost an obsession, with making sure the right things made it to the right people at the right time; and he'd trained his replacement in his methods before moving on to the Post Office. "Well then for Mr. Bester's sake you'd best come in and hand it to me. I'd hate to think of him suddenly twitching at his new job."
The office door opened to reveal a young woman of average height that from appearances was probably not yet old enough to drink. She was dressed in a style that was best described as corporate gothic. An ordinary white dress shirt poked out from underneath a black fitted jacket with large lapels and victorianesque puffed sleeves that flared at their ends. Both the lapels and the ends of the flared sleeves were finished with a deep red taffeta. The jacket wrapped around the lightly curving lines of her body and blended into the top of a knee length, pleated, pinstripe skirt that hugged her hips. Her legs were clad in black stockings and a pair of comfortable looking patent leather flats. She approached the CEO and her executive secretary with some measure of trepidation, and though she tried to hide it, her movements made it clear she was rather uncomfortable being scrutinized under both their gazes. She tipped her head forward and tried to hide behind the veil of her long black hair.
Penelope picked up on the movement instantly, and thought it a shame that such a lovely young woman with striking sapphire blue eyes would try to hide herself away. It was her opinion such beauty should be worn with confidence, and it was obvious the new mail clerk was sadly lacking self confidence. She was timid and nervous in a situation she had no reason to be timid or nervous during.
The new mail clerk set a small stack of envelopes on Penelope's desk, but couldn't bring herself to make eye contact. She was so anxious her voice even wavered a little. "You're mail Miss DeVrie."
"Thank you Miss?"
"Bethany. Bethany Carmichael." She almost squeaked her name out in surprise when she realized it was being asked for.
Penelope's voice was markedly more gentle when she spoke next. "Thank you Miss Carmichael. You can go now." She didn't add the dismissal to be imperious. It was added as a gentle prod. She was quite sure without it Bethany would have stood there frozen like a deer in headlights for several minutes before remembering she could actually move.
Bethany gave a little "Yes Ma'am" and almost ran out of the office. She felt like a fool. She knew her nervousness showed. And to have it show so much right there in front of the CEO and the CEO's secretary was tremendously embarrassing. She could only imagine she must have looked like a lost child in front of the both of them. Anger and embarrassment flushed her skin as she returned to her mail cart and moved further along on her rounds.
Penelope caught a look at Bethany's back as she left, and noted not only her quick flight from the office, but also the black ribbon that crisscrossed over an hourglass shape of deep red taffeta on the back of the fitted jacket, giving the impression of corset lacing. There was also a spider hanging from the seam on each of Bethany's stockings. It made a small smile appear on Penelope's face. The young woman may not have had confidence, but she certainly had beauty and a sense of both style and humor. There was potential in her, possibly a deep well of untapped potential.
"Matsuko, get me Miss Carmichael's personnel file. I'd like to know more about her."
Matsuko Akihara grinned inside. Her boss was a predictable person in many ways, and it was undoubted now in the secretary's mind that Penelope would turn Bethany into one of her personal projects. The decision was already in the CEO's eyes. The thought brought a little flutter to Matsuko's insides. She'd been one of those personal projects, and still enjoyed the occasional 'fringe benefit' with her boss.
Penelope sat at her desk as the sun dipped into the horizon. Her work for the day was complete, and her mind returned to thoughts of Bethany. It had been like that the whole afternoon, when she was not occupied with work she found herself thinking of the pretty young gothic woman. She'd even caught herself wondering what might lay underneath all the dark clothing. Her imagination had conjured a lovely picture.
She sighed. There was much more than lust occupying her thoughts about Bethany. She genuinely wished to instill in the young woman a sense of self confidence and empowerment. It just didn't seem right to her for anyone to go through life doubting them self, especially when they had been gifted with both beauty and competence. But it was a delicate situation. Penelope was the young woman's superior. While she had absolutely no intention of using her position to try and leverage anything out of her mail clerk, it would be very difficult to approach her without giving that sort of impression. The young woman was timid enough without being made uncomfortable by a pass from the company CEO, especially considering they were both women, and Penelope was likely almost old enough to be the girl's mother. Bethany might really be rattled if she was homophobic. She needed a neutral setting, a place she could talk to her as just another woman and not the head of the company. A glance at the calendar reminded Penelope Halloween was just a couple weeks away. It would be the perfect opportunity.
2 - An Invitation
Bethany looked at the envelope again, mystified. It had arrived with no return address and contained an invitation, a gift card, and a handwritten note. The invitation was engraved and printed in a bold metallic orange over a heavy black card stock. It read simply 'Miss Bethany Carmichael, You are cordially invited to the annual Halloween Masquerade at the Adams Hotel.' On the flip side of the invitation was the Hotel's address, phone number, and a map of its location. Bethany knew of the Adams. Everyone knew of the Adams. It was exclusive, and expensive; the kind of place average people might take someone on a wedding anniversary planned six months in advance. She wondered how on Earth she'd been invited to the Halloween Masquerade. The gift card appeared much like a credit card. Silver letters stood out on a field of deep indigo. According to the silver script on the front of it, the card belonged to a business by the name of "Lorinzinni Costumers". She wasn't familiar with the name, and there didn't appear to be a dollar amount attached to the card anywhere. Last, but certainly not least, was the note. It was hand written in an angular calligraphy on a high quality paper. It read :
Your striking looks and style have earned my quiet admiration. I would be delighted if you would attend our annual Halloween Masquerade. In addition to the invitation, please find enclosed with this missive a gift card to Lorinzinni Costumers. Simply present the card at the counter and they will be happy to take care of the rest.
If you are inclined to attend our Masquerade, please call the Adams Hotel. They will arrange for your transportation to and from the ball. If you are not so inclined, or if you already have other plans I quite understand. The gift card to Lorinzinni Costumers is yours to keep either way.
I look forward to seeing you.'
There was no signature. Bethany was stunned and dumbfounded. Who had done this, and why? She was a part time student working as a mail clerk at DeVrie. She didn't even know anyone who moved in social circles of that caliber. Or at least she didn't think she knew anyone like that. And even if she did, how in the world had she impressed them such that they would invite her to the Adams Halloween Masquerade? She liked to think she put her own personal touch to her gothic wardrobe, but "striking looks and style"? She didn't think she stood out quite like that. In fact she thought she was quite ordinary and plain looking, despite what any number of boys and a few girls had said to her. She just didn't see it. Elizabeth Taylor. Audrey Hepburn. They had striking looks and style. She was just plain ole Bethany Carmichael.
Could it be some horrible prank? Maybe. In high school she had been the butt of many jokes and had many people use kind words just to get in her pants then leave. She just couldn't take anything at face value anymore. It was kind of suspicious the gift card didn't have a value printed on it anywhere. And she didn't know if the number for the Hotel was the actual phone number or the number of someone expecting her to call for the prank.
A quick look in the phone book put her doubts mostly to rest. There was a Lorinzinni Costumers in town, their ad was even printed in indigo and silver; and the phone number for the Adams Hotel matched what was on her invitation. Could some stranger be taking a genuine interest in her? A warm feeling started to sprout within Bethany at the thought. She stifled it and decided to visit Lorinzinni Costumers with the gift card before she would let herself get her hopes up.
Lorinzinni Costumers resided within a building that used to be a small factory. The red brick facade was punctuated with two entrances and a large bay window that appeared as if its opening used to be there to service a large door, perhaps for vehicles to come and go. Above the window hung a large sign. Silver letters on a field of deep indigo spelled out the name of the business. On display in the bay window were several costumes of varying quality, from something that looked like you could order it on-line for thirty dollars to a theatrical ensemble that appeared as though it had to be custom made.
Bethany entered the store and a small bell chimed. Laid out before her was a cornucopia of costumes and accessories. The sheer variety and volume of goods on display was almost overwhelming. On her right there was a large counter with a cash register that appeared to be abandoned; until a sprite of a woman stood up from behind it and momentarily startled the goth girl that had just walked in. They both jumped a little, and the spritely one immediately giggled, then by way of apology immediately offered her hand and said "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I'm Sara, how can I help you?"
Sara was not only dressed in a Tinkerbell costume, complete with iridescent fairy wings; but was also the spitting image of the famous fairy, if only on a larger scale of actual human dimensions. Her big blue eyes were framed in a slender face. Sun bleached blond hair was piled up on her head in the same fashion as the tiny fae; and her sun bronzed skin was accented with a generous dusting of glitter.
Bethany declined to shake the offered hand. "It's okay. And sorry, but glitter and black? Don't mix. I shake your hand and I'll never be rid of it."
Sara gave her a playful show of an obviously phony pout and whine. "But it's sooo pretty!", then let go of another bubbly giggle.
Bethany sighed. She never could understand people that were so upbeat. The sprite in front of her would probably smile through the apocalypse. She shrugged mentally, whatever gets you through the day she supposed. Then she handed Sara the gift card. "I was told to hand this to whomever was behind the counter, and you'd take care of the rest."
The Tinkerbell doppelganger took a quick look at the gift card, swiped it through a card reader behind the counter, and if it was possible became even more upbeat. She handed it back to Bethany with a broad smile and stepped out from behind the counter wondering if the other girl knew how lucky she was. "That's one of our Platinum Gift Cards. Anything you want, it's yours. I'll be happy to direct you to whatever you'd like. If we don't have what you'd like on our racks, or if you have an idea for a costume you'd like custom made I can take you upstairs and you can talk to Vincent. It's a little close to Halloween, but I'm sure we can accommodate you."
Bethany blinked in stunned surprise and it was a couple of seconds before her mouth was able to articulate her jumbled thoughts. "Wait, what? Anything at all? There's no limit?"
Sara nodded. Nope, the other woman hadn't known. "Yes. Well, you are limited to one complete costume."
Bethany was almost reduced to a sputter. "But. Who's paying for it?"
"I'm sorry, but I'm not at liberty to say. Your benefactor wishes to remain anonymous."
The pure generosity was almost too much for Bethany to handle. The warm feeling broke loose of the bonds she had fettered it with and wormed it's way deeply through her. Her eyes went glassy for a moment and she swiped at them. It wasn't that her life had been bereft of generosity, or of gifts given to her by others; but this was the first time she'd ever received such a gift. There had been Christmas and her birthday, of course, but those were always gifts from the few friends and family she had, and they'd always been little things. Any other gift had always had some kind of string attached or an ulterior motive. Usually the purpose of such things was to woo her, to win her over with a display of money and false generosity in an effort to get in her pants. This was a blank check for something she adored, and it was given without expectation of reciprocation. Her mind was instantly made up. She was going to the Masquerade. She had to meet her mysterious benefactor. And she had to look as good as humanly possible for it. Something off the rack wasn't going to do. It needed to be custom, to fit like a glove and accent her strengths while hiding her weaknesses. She was going to have to talk to Vincent.
3 - Fantasies
Later that night, Bethany was sprawled on her bed naked, her hair still damp from the shower she'd just finished. The hot water made her normally pale skin flush with heat, but even that warm sensation seemed faint compared to the joy that had grown in response to the day's events. She was positive the outfit she and Vincent had created would elevate even her plain looks to something that could turn a head, though Vincent was adamant she needed no assistance with that. He even sounded sincere when he said so. It was sweet. And the hotel had said they'd send a limousine! A limousine was going to be sent out, just for her, and it would be hers for the entire night of the masquerade!
Someone, somewhere had gone to a great deal of expense for her, and they didn't expect anything in return. It made her feel very special, like some kind of gothic princess. She giggled as an image of some darker version of Snow White danced across her mind's eye. Her thoughts quickly returned to her mysterious benefactor though. She wondered what they were like, and why they wanted to remain anonymous. Again she racked her brain in an attempt to discern who would do this for her, and again she drew a blank.
Wondering and wandering thoughts originally based in reality and searching for an answer slowly gave way to thoughts of wants and unspoken desires that evolved into fantasies. She pictured many scenarios, all of them revolving around her anonymous admirer; sometimes they were male, sometimes they were female. Gender didn't really matter so much to Bethany. What really mattered to her was the person occupying the flesh. One scene particularly stuck in her mind.
In this one, her admirer was a woman, a couple of inches taller than Bethany, with luxurious red hair that fell in a cascade around her shoulders. She had intense eyes the color of emeralds, a smattering of freckles, and a physique sculpted by regular dance lessons. A police uniform that was more fetish than function clung to her body. Handcuffs and a baton hung from her belt. Bethany was in her street clothes. Comfortable hiking boots, sensible dark slacks, and a midnight blue cotton blouse covered her frame but did very little to decorate it. They were in an opulent bedroom somewhere. It didn't really matter where. What was important was the four poster bed overflowing with sumptuous velvet. The pillows and covers were each made of burgundy and scarlet velvet. Yards of black velvet comprised the canopy and drapes.
Even more important was the way her admirer was looking at Bethany; and the way her admirer's eyes spoke of exactly how she wanted to use the bed. Bethany opened her mouth to speak, to say something to this gorgeous woman in front of her who had given such a wonderful gift; but the red head pressed a single finger over Bethany's lips and silenced anything she thought to say. The voice was like warm syrup poured into her ear, thick and full of desire, "Shhh. I know." Then the red head stepped forward, forcing the brunette back until she bumped into the bed and fell into the sea of velvet. Before she knew what was happening there were handcuffs around her wrists and they were secured to the headboard. She struggled, but it was futile. The anonymous officer stood over her and smiled lasciviously.
Bethany blushed under the wanton emerald gaze that ran over her body, and felt heat building deep inside. She wanted to grab the other woman, pull her down to the bed on top of her body. She wanted to be naked and to strip the police uniform from the other woman. She wanted to be sandwiched between flesh and velvet, to drown her skin in the two sensations. But the ability to do so, the choice, and the control had been taken away; and that was turning her on as much as anything she wanted to do. Add to it that she'd become an object of desire, and she was becoming very randy. Deft fingers unbuttoned the cotton blouse, unfastened the simple ivory colored bra underneath and pushed all the fabric away, leaving Bethany's torso naked and vulnerable. Her heartbeat and breathing quickened and she twisted on the bed. Her body met soft cool velvet and the barest tips of fingers traced over her skin leaving ghosts of the feeling in their wake. Just as quickly as they descended on her, the fingers left, to allow strong hands to pull off her boots and strip the slacks from her legs; leaving only a pair of ivory colored satin panties behind. Her legs luxuriated in the fabric underneath them, and she kicked a little just to push the feeling into her skin.
A thin whine escaped the gothic woman's lips. It crawled up out of her throat and spilled into the world as a lustful little sound when a hand brushed over the inside of one of her thighs. She squeezed her legs together, trying to capture the hand, to draw it in close and keep it stroking over her skin. She was filling up with the heat of arousal, and desperate for any intimate touch. Begging words came on the heel of quick breaths that were almost panting, "Please. More." With her words the hand was roughly withdrawn, leaving her to make a loud sound of protest.
The red head stood over her, a suggestive look still upon her face. Her voice wasn't like warm syrup though. It was cool and hard, and carried a single word. "No."
Bethany's speech was almost frantic. "Why? Please!"
The other woman seemed unmoved by the raw emotion in Bethany's pleading words. Her intonation remained cool and hard. "Please, what?"
Bethany stopped short as comprehension fell, and she bit back the anxiousness in her tone to try and replace it with quiet deference. "Please, Mistress."
Warmth seeped back into the red head's manner, "Much better." and her mouth found Bethany's neck while a hand returned to her body. Soft kisses grew into tongue rasping and nipping teeth at the brunette's creamy skin, while a hand played over the tops of her inner thighs and her stomach, carefully circumnavigating the perimeter of her pubic mound without directly touching it. The gothic woman thrashed under the attention at her neck and agitatedly tried to roll her hips around to encourage friction in more intimate places. There was a husky growl next to Bethany's ear, and then her Mistress's other hand made itself known by fisting up into her hair and pulling her head to one side.
The voice at her ear was low and harsh, full of lust, and riding on quick breaths. "You need to be kept still."
The panties were stripped off the brunette and rope came from out of nowhere. Loops of it were wound around each of her ankles and tied off to opposite bed posts, pulling her legs apart and leaving her most intimate places exposed and vulnerable. The lines were drawn up so tight they put her body under tension and stole every inch of movement away from her. All she was able to do was moan or whine while her Mistress did whatever she wished. It quickly became apparent her Mistress wished her to orgasm, although it was obvious she didn't wish her to do so immediately. The red head's hands roamed over Bethany's body doing their best to imitate a small army of sensuous serpents plying their way over her skin, scraping nails over her sides, and playing tormentingly short games with her breasts. The feelings drove her maddeningly close to the edge, and she was kept there for some time; her flesh played like an instrument, bringing her close to release, only to have it denied. Finally, her Mistress satisfied with the games she'd played over her submissive's body, the gothic woman was allowed to orgasm; the hot wash of lips and tongue over her clitoris propelling her into bliss.
Bethany moaned, then shrieked as the orgasm flowed through her body both in real life and inside her fantasy. It echoed off the edges of her mind and rebounded inside for long minutes before she finally moved again. When she did, she unwound herself from the tangle of bed sheets and shuffled to her bathroom to clean up. Shortly, she returned to bed and curled up with a pleasant smile, still basking in the afterglow and thoughts of her mysterious benefactor.
1 - The Masquerade
The days leading up to Halloween and the Masquerade had been full of nervous and giddy anticipation for Bethany. She had made a couple more visits to Lorinzinni Costumers, at Vincent's request, to ensure her ensemble would fit perfectly. She got the impression he wanted to do everything he could to not only make her look beautiful but also to please whoever was paying for it all. It left Bethany even more curious as to who her benefactor could be. It also left her carrying around a certain upbeat feeling she did not usually possess; which led to some of her more inquisitive and less tactful friends asking about her sex life.
All of that was irrelevant now. The moment of truth was at hand. The limousine was outside, and it's driver was at her door. She checked herself one last time in the hall mirror. What she saw absolutely thrilled her, though it didn't do anything to alleviate the feeling of having a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. It did galvanize her resolve and confirm her decision to go. Someone had gone to a great deal of expense to give her this gift. How could she do any less than at least attend the event? She couldn't. She opened her door and stepped into the night without looking back.
Penelope stood in the center of a small knot of curious admirers. She had attracted them by being something of an anomaly : she was truly anonymous. No one had yet recognized her. While the Adams Halloween Masquerade encouraged anonymity; it usually didn't last very long. The list of invited guests was fairly stable. If a guest attended one year, it was a good bet they would return the next; and new guests were usually introduced, so practically there was a limited pool of persons that could be behind any mask. Some attendees didn't even bother to wear a mask. Others let their mask down easily. Some wore costumes that identified them by being tied to their personality. But even when a guest was in full costume and wore a face concealing mask, it was usually only a matter of time before someone familiar with them identified who they were. Whether it was their voice, their mannerisms, their body language, or even their perfume, there was something to give them away.
The success of Penelope's disguise was encouraging to her. The one thing she was concerned about this evening was being recognized too soon by Bethany. To avoid it she'd gone to some lengths to obscure her identity. Her onyx hair was gathered upon her head in a style that was, for her, unique to this night. She allowed her familial roots to show in her voice. The lilting French accent was something none of her friends had ever heard from her mouth as her French had been previously confined to use at family gatherings and phone conversations to Europe. She wore a perfume that had never previously touched her skin. It was something Matsuko had recommended many months ago. Wearing it now, the scent reminded Penelope of lilacs and citrus orchards. Her face was hidden behind porcelain and feathers. The fine white ceramic surrounded her eyes and covered the bridge of her nose. It was decorated with elegant black lines that accented her eyes. Black and white feathers concealed the rest of her face, save for her mouth. Her spirits were buoyed by the fact people who knew her well had already been fooled for some time. It reassured her she would have the opportunity to interact with Bethany on equal footing.
Bethany's heart felt like it was racing at a million miles an hour. It hadn't been so bad in the limousine. But now that she was actually here, in the hotel, at the coat check for the masquerade; she felt like a lamb to the slaughter instead of the gothic princess the gift had made her feel like for the last two weeks. Surely there wasn't going to be anyone she knew here. She'd never been to a serious masquerade. Was it anything like the costume parties she'd been to in recent years? She had no idea. And this was the Adams! This was where real movers and shakers in social circles, business and politics from all over the state came to. She just couldn't convince herself she belonged here. Then she looked down at the invitation she was clutching in her hands. She had been invited, and the person who invited her wanted her here, and they had given her a wonderful gift. The desire to meet her benefactor outweighed all of her misgivings combined, though not by much. She still hesitated for a moment at the coat check; feeling like it was some kind of point of no return, or as though she might still be rejected. When the clerk dutifully took her hooded burgundy cloak, was especially careful not to damage the ivory colored satin lining with the hanger, and handed her the receipt with a smile; it allayed her fears somewhat. She took another measure of calm by hiding behind her mask, a masterpiece of sculpted paper and feathers fashioned in the visage of a snowy owl.
A hotel employee had discreetly informed Penelope her guest had arrived, and as such she'd been keeping her eyes on the entrance to the main room of the masquerade. But, even without the tip, Penelope would have immediately spotted Bethany when she walked into the space. The young woman was stunning, even resplendent in her costume. Vincent had given Penelope the details of the outfit he and the lovely young gothic woman had designed. And though she'd had a very precise idea of what to expect, it was another thing entirely for her to see the clothes on Bethany's frame.
The mail clerk looked precisely the opposite of the ordinary girl she thought herself to be. Her long dark hair was styled into a classic French braid, and while the snowy owl mask hid most of her face; it didn't hide her strikingly deep sapphire blue eyes. There was a wide white ribbon affixed round her neck, decorated with a black cherry blossom that could almost be considered a tiny sculpture in fabric. A collarless burgundy shrug with puffed sleeves and trimmed with gathered and scalloped lace at the cuffs hung on her slender shoulders. Black leather, in the form of a corset, hugged her from her hips to her chest. It collected her breasts, drew them together and pushed them up to form impressive cleavage. Her figure had required no assistance, but she'd insisted on shaving a couple of inches off her waist. The boning and tight lacing had allowed her to do just that and it enhanced an already attractive figure. Cherry blossoms, blown by the wind, were embossed into the otherwise plain field of leather that composed the front of the corset. It flowed seamlessly into an asymmetric burgundy skirt made of three tiers of ruffles. In front it was just above her knees; in back it fell to a length laying just at her ankles. Her slender legs were clad in ivory colored silk hose. Ankle boots with high heels pushed her up to just a couple inches shy of six feet. They were black at the toes, heels, and a strap above the ankle. The rest of their body was ivory colored, covered with a cherry blossom themed black lace.
Penelope was sure the sound of conversation in the room dropped several decibels as the guests noticed Bethany's arrival. If envy had a scent, it would have been thick in the air. As it was Penelope was just glad to see the young gothic woman walk into the room instead of turning around and going back the way she came. For a long moment she lingered at the entrance, looking lost. Then she spotted the large buffet table and moved to it with a purpose.
Bethany's heart was back to racing at a million miles an hour. She immediately felt out of her depth again when she entered the main room and didn't recognize anyone. It was like being a complete stranger, which upon a moment of reflection was exactly what she was; not only to the rest of the guests, but to the situation she was in. She didn't have the first clue as to how she should act. Then she spotted the buffet with all the platters of little finger foods and candies laid out. That much was familiar. She could graze on the food and make small talk. She was sure of it. Numerous parties and awkward family gatherings had taught her the science of being able to hold friendly conversations that contained absolutely nothing deep or memorable. Besides, the food looked delicious. It tempted her with all manner of scents, colors, and textures. Hopefully her location would also make her easily found by her mysterious benefactor.
Two desires were warring for dominance in Penelope's mind. On the one hand she wanted to stand back and observe, watch Bethany's reactions, see how she handled herself now that the young woman seemed to have found a niche she was comfortable in. On the other hand she wanted to possess, to swoop in and claim the beautiful goth as her own and dare anyone to try and take her away. In the end, she acted on something of a compromise, excusing herself from the knot of admirers and making her way to the buffet.
With some calm returned to her demeanor, Bethany took the opportunity to really look around while sampling the goods at the buffet. All of the guests were playing an adult version of "dress up" and indulging in fantasies and characters for an evening. The costumes were spectacular and insinuated their wearers had a great deal more disposable income than she was used to seeing, but besides that it seemed like any other costume party. She found herself wanting to go around and simply touch some of the outfits on display, just to discover how they felt or to reassure herself they were real. As her eyes roamed further and further afield she noted about half the guests had taken some traditional costume and put a heavy fetishistic kink to it. There were also perhaps half a dozen couples who had skipped over the idea of a costume altogether and were dressed as if they'd just leapt off the pages of a fetish magazine. The leather and latex wrapped over their forms oozed sex appeal, and her eyes were drawn back to them repeatedly. A moment of insight struck while her eyes were roaming and she realized that although she felt intimidated by the money on display and uncomfortable being a stranger, she wasn't so affected by the costumes. She felt beautiful tonight, really beautiful, and she knew she was on equal footing with any other outfit in the room. It was a good feeling, and despite the discomfort and intimidation, it made her feel a little warm inside.
Penelope's eyes were on the mail clerk like a hawk fixed on a rabbit. Every movement and mannerism was noted while the CEO approached the buffet, and it did not escape her observation that the young gothic woman's gaze kept returning to a couple adorned in full fetish gear. Penelope smiled a little, and hoped the other woman's interest ran deeper than simple voyeurism. She was not the first to reach the Buffet in pursuit of the gothic vision in an owl mask; and she was pleased to hear the timid girl exchanging pleasant small talk. Compliments were given on the clothing she wore, and Bethany had the grace to return them. Just as it had occurred with Penelope, a small knot of people began to form around the anonymous young woman. The other guests were asking little questions, trying to pry details out of the one behind the owl mask. It was all in good fun, and they were only trying to discern an identity, but it was apparent being the center of such attention was not something Bethany was comfortable with. Tension became evident in the way she moved, how her shoulders were scrunched up, and in the line of her jaw. Before she could make an excuse about having to use the bathroom, or use some other contrived evasion to retreat from the gathering Penelope inserted herself into the knot.
A low sensuous voice with a lilting French accent reached out over the noise of the masquerade and the surrounding knot of people to sound in Bethany's ears with the clarity of a bell cutting through fog. "I see you made excellent use of your gift. The costume is quite alluring." Those words immediately made the rest of the world fade away into irrelevance. Excitement sluiced through the young woman's veins. Only her mystery benefactor would know the clothing was a gift!
Bethany turned to pin down the source of the voice and was met with a vision straight from the silver screen. The costume was a perfect facsimile of the raiment made famous by Audrey Hepburn in "Breakfast at Tiffany's". It was filled out by a woman who appeared to have been poured into the slinky black dress. Matching black opera gloves climbed up graceful arms, and a comely neck was accented by the long strands of large pearls that hung around it. Her face was hidden behind a porcelain and feather mask, but while it concealed it's owner's identity it also accented a pair of powerful pale blue eyes.
The young gothic woman's heart rate quickened, and she again wondered how she could have impressed another woman of such caliber. She was stunned for a moment, but quickly found her wit and voice. "You have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am, but I'm afraid I've no idea who you are."
Penelope gave a coy smile. "Neither does anyone else. And I couldn't possibly tell you here, it'd ruin everyone’s fun in trying to figure it out."
Bethany caught the conditional immediately and pried at it, her desire to know who her benefactor was quite obvious in her voice. "Well, if you couldn't tell me here, then where could you tell me?"
Penelope's smile grew. The younger woman's tone and question emboldened her. She leaned in close to her ear and whispered one thing, "Room twelve oh five." then turned and walked out of the masquerade's main room on her way to the elevators. Almost immediately she began to doubt she should have done so. It was obvious Bethany desperately wanted to know who her benefactor was, but was that curiosity enough to overcome her timid nature? Was it too much too fast? Hell, she hadn't even taken the time to read if she was open to the idea of relationships with other women. Penelope cursed herself. It was utterly uncharacteristic of her to let emotion get the best of her and jump the gun. By the time she reached the elevators, doubt was clawing away at her guts. It was a feeling she was not at all used to, and it's unpleasantness was thus magnified. Then she heard hurried footsteps from behind. She turned to see a gothic vision in an owl mask making haste to catch her, and the doubts dissolved.
Bethany had been shell shocked by the number whispered in her ear; and her benefactor was out of the room before her mind could find traction again. Just like that she was being invited up to a room? Wasn't it a little fast? But then hadn't she fantasized about things like this? She had no illusions as to what it could mean, and what kinds of intentions her benefactor might be harboring. While her fantasies had carried her through similar scenarios, this was real life; and that changed everything. But wasn't her only real reason for coming to the masquerade to find out who her benefactor was? Didn't she want to know in the hopes of pursuing a relationship? She certainly didn't relish mingling at the buffet to be the center of attention as perfect strangers tried to figure out who she was and why she was there. On the other hand she wasn't sure she wanted to enter a stranger's hotel room, no matter how beautiful or generous they were or how good they had made her feel. A couple more questions from the knot of people around her convinced Bethany she definitely didn't wish to remain in their company. She excused herself and made her exit, then hastily headed towards the elevators.
She was still fairly sure she didn't want to go into her benefactor's room. But it occurred to her she hadn't had the chance to express a proper "thank you"; and she felt obliged to at least say that much. If nothing else, the woman in the Breakfast at Tiffany's outfit had made her feel beautiful and special tonight. She deserved to know the gift had been greatly appreciated and enjoyed. Besides, if Bethany didn't pursue her she might never find out who her benefactor was; she might lose any chance she had at something more than the gift of a single night; and she simply couldn't do that. So, she rushed to the elevators, hoping to catch the beautiful stranger before being left with no choice but to knock on her door.
Penelope stood in front of the elevator, relieved she had not made a terrible error. She smiled at Bethany as she quickly walked up. The familiar ding of an arriving car sounded, and the elevator doors opened up. Penelope stepped inside without hesitation, a graceful movement of her arm beckoning Bethany to follow. It was too late to launch a protest, so the young woman boarded the lift as well.
2 - Going Down?
The doors closed, and to Bethany the space inside the elevator car suddenly seemed intimate; and she was nervous. She bit her lip, abruptly unsure of how she should express her thanks then graciously extract herself from having to enter the other woman's room; and still hopefully get away with her identity. She began to fidget and her nervousness increased as her company in the car said nothing while standing stone still, waiting to arrive at the twelfth floor. She admonished herself, thinking she'd look like some sort of foolish little schoolgirl if the other woman looked over to her now. So she blurted out the words, afraid if she didn't her nervousness would keep her silent.
Penelope asked a gentle "What for?"
"For all of this. Well, maybe not the masquerade so much. I don't like big groups of people I don't know, unless it's a concert, but that's different. But for everything else. For giving me the clothes, and inviting me to a special event, and making me feel beautiful and special like some kind of princess instead of plain and pedestrian. I don't know what I did to deserve it, but thank you. Thank you so much." Bethany had to cut herself short before she started to babble, and before the emotions became too thick in her throat. She didn't realize just how much feeling special and beautiful for a night meant to her until the words came; and she had to put a damper on them or she was afraid she might get teary.
Penelope smiled, and even with the mask on it brightened her features. She was happy to know her gift was so well received, and that it had the desired effect. Now that she knew the young woman could feel beautiful and special, it would only be a matter of convincing her it was so; confidence would follow. "You're very welcome. And you _are_ beautiful and special."
"I don't believe it. I'm no model, and I'm certainly nothing terribly special."
"I disagree, and I aim to convince you you're wrong in those assertions. You're a beautiful young woman with wit and style. A little effort will bring you grace. You simply lack the confidence to believe these things are true."
The words were pretty, and the other woman certainly sounded sincere; but Bethany had heard pretty words spoken sincerely before and they had been lies then. On the other hand, she had never received a gift like this before. No one had made her feel special and beautiful this way before. Maybe it would hurt if this was somebody looking to use her again, or maybe she could find some comfort and happiness with someone. She wanted to believe the other woman. She wanted to believe someone so elegant could find something attractive in someone like her. "I think you're mistaken. But I also think I'm going to give you the chance to show me I'm wrong."
Penelope continued to smile. "That's all I could ask for."
The elevator stopped, chimed, and its doors opened. Both women disembarked and headed down the hall.
3 - Room Twelve Oh Five
Bethany paused a few paces back from the door to room 1205. She was still nervous about entering the other woman's room; even though she now wanted to. It was a matter of her desire not being quite enough to overcome her nerves and her innate fear of stepping into a stranger's hotel room.
Penelope noticed her lack of companion as she reached to retrieve the room key from her little black pocketbook. She turned to where Bethany had stopped a few paces back and saw the reluctance written in her eyes and her body language. "What's wrong?"
"I need to know who you are."
The smile dropped from Penelope's face. She didn't want to reveal herself, not yet. But, if Bethany was persistent there wouldn't be anything else for it. She walked back to the young woman and tried to make her voice as comforting and friendly as possible. "Please Bethany, not yet. I promise the mask will come off, but there are things I want to ask you and things I want to show you first. Please?"
She was being asked, politely, in a very kind voice, with an accent that made her name sound incredibly sexy by a beautiful woman in an enticing black dress. There wasn't a hint of demand, or any kind of unspoken 'or else'. She couldn't detect a hint of coercion. But she wasn't quite convinced yet. "What if I were to insist?"
"Then I'd have to take the mask off here."
That was it. There was no 'then you don't find out who I am'. She was convinced. "Okay."
Penelope smiled again, then opened the door to her room. She let Bethany in first, and turned on the lights, letting the door close quietly behind them. The room was actually a luxury suite. The area they entered was a kitchenette that flowed into a living space. There were a couple of small serving trays in the kitchenette that appeared to have on them a number of the same things that had been laid out for the buffet at the masquerade. The living space had a small couch, a recliner, a coffee table, a small desk in one corner, and a flat screen television on one wall. There was also one rather ordinary looking door which led to the bathroom; and a pair of frosted glass doors opened on the bedroom. Within the bedroom was a queen sized bed, a pair of night stands, a chest of drawers and a closet. Everything was richly appointed just shy of something that might be called opulent or excessive; beauty, comfort, and good taste ruled the suite's character.
Penelope spoke to her guest as she walked towards the bedroom to put down her pocketbook and remove her jewelry and gloves. "Make yourself comfortable. There's coffee on the counter if you'd like, and cold drinks in the refrigerator. Help yourself." The necklace was a large heavy piece and it felt good to take it off.
Bethany's voice called out from the kitchenette. "Would you like anything?"
Penelope resisted the urge to say something salacious. "A glass of pineapple juice." When the CEO came out of the bedroom, Bethany had finished pouring herself a cup of coffee, and a glass of pineapple juice for her host. They sat in the living area, the gothic woman taking a seat in the recliner while Penelope kicked her shoes off and lounged on the couch, hoping her position might attract the other woman's eyes. It didn't take long, only seconds really, for her little gambit to pay off. The mail clerk tried to hide it behind taking off her mask and her shoes, but it was telling when her gaze would dart to the sinuous form on the couch. The looks made Penelope want to get up and fist a hand around the younger woman's braid, pull her head back, and take a kiss from her lips. Tempting as the impulse was, she tamped it back down. Undoubtedly it would be far too much far too quickly. Instead she broke the silence with a loaded question.
"So, did you like what you saw?"
Bethany reasoned the other woman must be referring to the masquerade; though she wondered for a moment if the question wasn't directed at something more immediate. Whether it was one or the other, she had enjoyed the view. She answered with a little smile, the expression lightening her features now that they weren't hidden by the owl mask. "I certainly did. The costumes were fabulous. Did you see Bast and steam punk Ironman?"
"I did. They were impressive and difficult to miss. So were our latex Catwoman and her leather clad man pet on a leash. Did you see them?" Those two had captured Bethany's attention the most, and Penelope knew it. She mentioned them on purpose, to measure the young woman's reaction.
"Yeah. I did. They were kind of" and Bethany struggled a moment for the right word she wanted to use, "... obvious about it." She also felt they were stunningly sexy, but she chose not to say so. It wasn't something she wanted to share. Such things weren't taboo, but it had been her experience most people still viewed fetishes and bondage as something deviant and weird and would poorly treat others who expressed an interest in those things. The emotion was betrayed in her expression though, and Penelope picked up on it. She chuckled a little with the gothic woman's choice of words. Obvious was a very appropriate word to describe how brazen the fetish couple had been.
"Mmm. They certainly were. I thought they were quite captivating, very sexy."
"I did. I have a kink for bondage and beautiful people in fetish wear, especially latex and leather outfits. How about you? Do you have any interest in such things?" Penelope already knew the answer, but it had to be asked. The want had to be out in the open before she could introduce the other woman to the things she wanted to show her.
Bethany blushed a little, nervous, and not quite believing she could be so lucky that this lovely stranger who was also her benefactor would share an interest in such things. Her voice became quiet, as if she wanted to make sure the other woman in the room was the only one that could possibly hear. "Yes, a little bit. Sort of? I don't really know. I'm curious, but I've never had a chance to try anything like that."
And now came the critical points. They would decide how the rest of the night might progress, what activities there might be. A sly smile turned up Penelope's lips. "Would you like to change that?"
There was a tone to Bethany's voice that was equal parts caution, hope, and yearning. "What do you mean?"
Penelope was well versed in controlling her voice, by either suppressing emotions or putting emotions into it that were not there. It was a skill she needed when negotiating over business contracts. But her control faltered some now. There was a great deal of visceral desire she was keeping dammed up, and a bit of it leaked through. "I have a few things with me. If you'd like I could show them to you, let you try them out."
Bethany caught the undercurrent in the other woman's voice and latched onto it. "Are you trying to seduce me?" Not that she thought she would argue if that was the case.
Penelope hesitated. There was nothing for it but the truth. "The thought had crossed my mind. You're quite beautiful Bethany, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't contemplated some rather intimate images of you. But nothing like that needs to be shared if you don't wish to. I'm only offering to let you experience something you're curious about."
Again there wasn't any hint of coercion or an 'or else', just the voice with the lilting accent making her name sound so very sexy and making her melt a little inside. It was just an honest answer and as far as Bethany could tell, an honest offer. She really didn’t know anything about the woman behind the mask, but she was becoming more and more attracted to her. The feeling emboldened her, and she hardly believed the brashness of her response when it spilled past her lips. "Is it seduction if your subject is willing?"
Penelope was just as surprised by the response she received as Bethany was in giving it. The words fired her lust, but again she tamped it down. The younger woman was willing, and desired not only what her host was offering, but desired her host. It was time for the mask to come off. She brought her voice back to normal, eliminating the French accent and reached behind her head to unfasten the mask as she spoke. "It is, if you want it to be."
Bethany sat silently, the shock boldly written on her face as the identity of her mystery benefactor was finally revealed. It was several long moments before she found words, and then it was a short question, her mind trying to confirm what her eyes were seeing. "Miss DeVrie?"
"Please, call me Penelope."
It didn't make sense to Bethany. Surely Penelope DeVrie could do better than Bethany Carmichael. The CEO had a statuesque beauty and was presumably quite well off. She could probably take her pick of any number of suitors. What on Earth did she see in the young gothic woman? Her voice was full of the same confusion that was running rampant through her mind. "But. I mean. I don't understand. What did I do? Why would you even notice me?"
Penelope's rejoinder was gentle. "Why would you have to do something? And why wouldn't I notice you? You're a beautiful young woman with wit and style, you only lack the confidence to see it yourself."
Bethany still couldn't quite wrap her mind around it. "But why would you do this for me?"
Penelope gave her the best friendly smile she had. "Because I wanted to. I hoped to make you happy with the gift and instill some confidence in you. I wanted to see what kind of costume you'd choose. Also, in the vernacular, I want to get in your pants."
Bethany blinked. That last sentence was forward enough to shake her out of the confusion she was feeling and frame the situation in a manner she easily understood. "Isn't that a little inappropriate?"
"It's only inappropriate if you don't feel like you can say 'no'. You can, if you want to. You can walk out the door and nothing changes, I promise."
Bethany put her cup down on the coffee table. She didn't know what to do. It was a lot to take in. She suddenly had doubts, and then she questioned those doubts. Hadn't she wanted the woman behind the mask before she knew who she was? And hadn't that person made her feel special and beautiful? Did anything about her change just because she turned out to be the owner of the company she worked for? Yes. Yes. And No. Still, there was one thing she wanted to know. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
Penelope smiled kindly and answered the question with a question of her own. "How would you have felt if I had just made a pass at you while you were dropping off the mail? Intimidated? Uncomfortable? Maybe even outright afraid for yourself and your job? Would you have felt like you could say 'no'?"
Bethany chided herself. The answer should have been obvious, and it would have been if she'd just thought about it. But thinking completely clearly was difficult; the night had been a dreamlike fantasy followed by a shocking revelation, and combined it threw her off balance. Still, while her mind might not be completely made up, her feelings were becoming quite clear. She wanted this. She wanted the alluring woman she'd met who'd been so generous and made her feel special and beautiful. She wanted the opportunity being offered to her now. "Yeah. That's probably exactly how I would have felt. I'm sorry, I should have thought about the answer before I asked the question. I'll take you up on the offer, but could you do something else for me?"
"Possibly. What is it?"
"Keep talking with that beautiful accent. Please. It's lovely, and you make my name sound wonderful and sexy."
There was desire clearly expressed in Bethany's tone, and once again Penelope's lust was fired. This time she didn't tamp it down. She rose from the small couch and took two steps to where the younger woman sat in the recliner watching her host with expectant eyes. Penelope bent over, grabbed the other woman's braid in one hand, tugged her head back, and pressed a hard passion filled kiss into her lips. Bethany's world froze in time. If she had still harbored any doubts they were swept away in the current of hot desire that flooded through her body and made it feel like electricity was dancing where her lips met in the kiss. Just as her arms were coming up to wrap around Penelope's body, to draw them closer together, the kiss was broken off and then the lilting accent was in her ear, so close that warm breath spilled over the skin of her neck.
"Come with me to the bedroom Bethany." It wasn't a harsh command, but neither was it a request. The words softly carried strength and the considerable will of their speaker. Her hair was released, and the young gothic woman wordlessly followed Penelope into the bedroom.
4 - An Experience
There were several pieces of luggage in the bedroom, all of them sturdily constructed from heavy black fabric and embroidered with the letters PD in silver script. The largest piece was immediately opened by its owner who began withdrawing several lengths of plastic pipe and several fittings. The pipes had a single row of small holes down their entire length. Bethany watched curiously as the pipe and fittings were laid on the bed and assembled into a rectangular frame measuring about three and half feet by seven and a half feet.
"What is it?"
"You'll see in another moment."
Penelope withdrew from her luggage what appeared to be a large black lump of some shiny black material. The gothic woman immediately recognized it as latex, and when the aroma tickled her nose it reminded her of times she'd browsed through the clothing at the adult stores in the city. For the last couple of years she had wanted to purchase some latex clothing, but she'd never been able to justify the high cost. The lump unfurled into what at first appeared to be a sheet the same size as the frame, but upon closer inspection the sheet turned out to be a bag. There was an odd looking zipper on one end, and a collar situated close to the other end. Two and two went together and Bethany figured out she was looking at a vacbed.
Penelope pulled the zipper open and drew the latex down over the frame, completing the assembly. The latex shined under the lights, and Bethany was drawn to it. She ran her fingers over the smooth cool material, and was filled with curiosity and a little apprehension. She'd seen them on the internet and in at least one magazine, read about them on BDSM sites, and watched a couple of videos of their use. They consistently appeared to be an incredibly intense experience, and she very much wanted to know what it felt like to be trapped inside of one. On the other hand, she wasn't sure she could handle being so completely immobilized and at someone's mercy. Penelope's voice was close again, just behind her.
"You know what it is?"
Bethany's response was entirely more breathless than she meant it to be. "It's a vacbed." And it was only after the words were out when she realized just how engrossed she'd become in it.
Penelope smiled at the response, and how obviously enchanted Bethany was with the vacbed. The anticipation of having her sealed inside sparked a little flame in the CEO's loins. Every curve of her lithe young body would be outlined in shining black latex, bound up and almost completely immobile. The only movement she'd have would be the small amount of stretch she could force out of the latex; hopefully while struggling to reach toward an orgasm or begging for more stimulation. "Would you like to try it out?"
The reluctance was clear in Bethany's voice. "I don't know. I'm not sure I can handle it."
Penelope wrapped her arms around the shorter woman's waist, embraced her from behind, and pulled her into the line of her own body. She nipped at an ear once, and husked her words into it, fully intent on using the press of her body, her voice, and Bethany's desire for both to seduce the young woman. "If you don't try, you'll never know. And if it turns out you can't, all you have to do is say 'safe word' and I'll get you out immediately."
Bethany thought about it; though thinking was very difficult given how she was feeling and how the embrace, the ear nip, and the husky accented voice were firing her desire. 'Safe word' turned it all into a dominance and submission scenario. She wasn't sure she was entirely ready for that either, despite a number of her fantasies. But then again, she didn't see how using a vacbed couldn't be a dominance and submission situation; once one person was inside the vacbed they were immediately at the mercy of the other. And, there really was only one way to find out.
"Just say 'safe word' and I'm out?"
Penelope responded with an "Exactly." and a kiss planted on Bethany's neck, just above the white ribbon that circled it.
Her breath hitched for a second with the kiss. "If you keep that up I'm not going to want to try the bed for long."
The taller woman chuckled and unwound her arms from the shorter woman's body allowing them to come face to face. "So, clothed or naked inside?"
"What would be the point of keeping my clothes on?" It was an honest question. Bethany didn't see the point of it if she was going to be in the vacbed. As she saw it, latex was all about the tactile sensation, how it gripped and hugged a person's body. Sure, she'd be restrained inside it if she was still clothed, but at least half the fun would be denied her by keeping the latex off her skin. And if the other woman wanted in her pants it was a pretty sure bet there wouldn't be a hygienic reason for it.
Penelope offered an honest answer. "I thought perhaps you'd like to retain your modesty."
Bethany grinned, and it was a wicked little smile. "Well. Maybe I want to see you look at me naked with lust in your eyes."
Penelope was genuinely surprised by the aggressive response she received, but had no inclination to argue against it. "Then lets get you into your birthday suit."
The first piece of clothing to come off of Bethany's body was the shrug. The little black hook and loop fastener that held it closed came undone under her deft fingers and the dark red fabric was slid away to reveal slender shoulders and svelte arms. Next came the corset. Penelope untied the laces from their neat bow and took more time than was necessary to slowly loosen them, savoring the motions and watching as the leather slowly gave up its hold on the body it tightly hugged. When it was sufficiently slack, Bethany unhooked the busk, removed the corset and laid it aside; leaving her naked from the waist up, save for the ribbon still circling her neck.
The tight garment left impressions on the gothic woman's pale skin, and Penelope traced over some of them with her fingers, causing a cascade of goose bumps and a shiver to propagate over the shorter woman's skin. A sigh that was part content, part relief, and part arousal slipped past Bethany's lips. It felt good to be free of the restrictive garment. It felt even better to have those fingers tracing over her skin. It didn't last long though. Penelope's digits quickly moved to unfasten the ruffled skirt; and she seized the opportunity to run her hands down Bethany's hose clad legs while she slid the skirt free of her body. In response a sound passed the gothic woman's lips that was more than a sigh but not quite a moan. She was left standing there in black satin panties, a lacey black garter belt, and seamed white silk stockings.
Penelope paused for a moment and backed up to survey the sight. The young woman standing in front of her was as beautiful as the CEO had imagined. She was slender without being skinny, well proportioned, and had flawless skin. But, even almost naked, it was her eyes that commanded the most attention. They were bright and lively, shaded the same deep rich color of sapphires, and like a magnet drawing iron filings they drew the gaze of the observer to them.
Penelope's voice was full of sincere appreciation and a hint of her desire; her eyes betrayed a greater lust than her voice expressed. "You're even more beautiful than I had pictured."
Bethany blushed. The lusting eyes didn't escape her notice, and she began to think she might be starting to believe the flattery a little bit. Either way, it was a turn on to be an object of desire, and she decided to put on a little bit of a show as she finished undressing. She turned around, so her back faced her audience, then hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, and slid them slowly down her legs. She bent only at her waist to remove them, making a libertine display of her ass. With the small piece of satin tossed aside she hiked a leg onto the bed, unhitched the garters holding up the stocking, then slowly rolled the ivory colored silk down and tugged it off of her foot. The motions were repeated with her other leg, and when Bethany turned to make a full display of her front, all that still clung to her body was the garter belt and the ribbon. Both fell to the manipulations of her fingers, leaving her completely nude.
The show had a definite affect on Penelope, stoking the fire in her loins. It was a power trip to know she already held enough sway over the other woman that she would put her body on display in such a lascivious manner. The only thing keeping her from reaching out, grabbing hold of that body, and claiming it for herself was the knowledge that very soon it would be trapped in the vacbed. She made absolutely no effort to conceal the desire flooding her system when she spoke. "Into the bed."
Penelope held open the zippered end as Bethany crawled inside the latex. When her feet passed the zipper, Penelope sealed it behind her, then moved to the collar to provide assistance there. A little squirming later and the young gothic woman's head was poking out of the collar, her braid tugged loose of the clingy material. She was already finding the sensation of the latex against her skin to be delicious, and could scarcely imagine how it was going to feel once it was vacuumed down. Penelope attached a part to the bit of the frame sticking out of the sack, and retrieved a small wet/dry vac from the same piece of luggage the vacbed had been in. She plugged the vacuum into the wall and attached its hose to the vacbed.
"Find a position that's comfortable, and tell me when you're ready."
Bethany took a minute, scooted about a bit, moved her arms and legs, and finally settled on a pose; then she nodded her head. "Okay."
At first it seemed like nothing was happening. Even though she could hear the vacuum was on, it didn't feel as though the latex was moving much. Then the cool material began contacting her body in more and more places, began getting tight and clinging to her skin. After that, in what seemed like an instant, before she could even really register everything that was happening, the rest of the air was evacuated and the latex firmly sucked down to her skin completely immobilizing her. Bethany came to the immediate conclusion it was the most incredible thing she'd ever felt; and far from not being able to handle it, she found the sensation to be absolutely wonderful.
Penelope shut off the vacuum and pulled it off of the one-way valve, laying it to the side. In front of her, Bethany's lithe supple body was tightly sealed within a layer of latex. The position she'd chosen had her legs slightly spread, barely even shoulder width apart, with her hands laying on her hips, just inches from the V of her crotch. The shiny black latex highlighted every curve and line of her form, and as Penelope studied the enchanting, erotic sight she observed Bethany's nipples stiffen and poke up erect from the latex covering her breasts.
The taller woman leaned down and breathed her words into her captive's ears. "Well, I see you're already enjoying yourself." As she spoke, she drug stiff fingertips over the other woman's latex covered abdomen, eliciting a soft whine of pleasure. "Every inch of your body is mine now Bethany, to do with as I please. You can't escape, and you can't stop me. You realize that?"
Bethany's only response was an affirmative nod.
Penelope bit the gothic woman's ear, nibbled on the lobe and breathed more words into it as one of her hands wandered up to her chest and cupped a breast. "Say it."
Penelope hmmm'd with pleasure at hearing the softly spoken acknowledgement. She was only a little surprised to hear the 'Mistress'. She was almost expecting it really, but it wasn't something she was prepared to accept, yet. She withdrew and stood up, essentially looming over Bethany. "Oh. So it's 'Mistress' now, is it? You want me to dominate you? Perhaps you'd like to be punished if you misbehave? Should I pull whatever pleasures I want from your body whether you're willing or not? Or maybe you'd like to be beaten no matter what you do? Should I wrap a collar around your neck and treat you like a piece of property?"
Bethany didn't know what to make of the response, and she was suddenly afraid she'd done something wrong, something to upset the other woman. The fear showed in her eyes, and her voice was tight when she spoke. "I... I don't know. I thought you wanted to be called Mistress. I'm sorry."
Penelope spoke comfortingly. "It's okay. I'm only making a point. I am not your Mistress. Perhaps later. But not until you know what you want out of that kind of a relationship. Until then, I'm happy to help you figure it out. Understand?"
Bethany smiled with relief. "Yes, I think so. But what should I call you?"
"Call me Penelope. Or when we're alone, and only when we're alone, you're pretty enough I'll let you get away with calling me Penny. And another thing, stop thinking. One of the sublime pleasures about the position you're in right now is you can let go of thought and let yourself be taken for the ride your body is going to experience."
"Okay. Penny." And Bethany smiled with the almost juvenile pleasure of being allowed to use the childlike diminutive of Penelope's name.
Penelope grinned, "Good.", then leaned down again and went back to nibbling on her captive's ear while one of her hands wandered over her latex covered chest. In moments she was making little pleasured mewls; not long after they became mixed with sounds of frustration, and the latex flexed as she tried to move.
"Awww. What's the matter kitten?"
"I'm stuck. I can't reach anything."
Penelope chuckled. "That's the point."
Bethany huffed out a sound and strained against the latex. The shiny material flexed, the frame bowed a little, but in the end it held its captive in exactly the same position she started in. True comprehension of her situation was beginning to dawn on her. She really couldn't move, not even a fraction of an inch. Oh, she could pull against the latex holding her down, even shift her position some, but as soon as she relaxed the material pulled her back to exactly where she started. It was already horribly frustrating. She wanted to reach out and touch the beauty tormenting her, or lacking that, touch herself. The vacbed denied her both things, and in realizing she could no longer do anything for herself she immediately recognized how completely dependent she was on Penelope. She needed the other woman for everything now, not just release, but for any stimulus she wanted beyond the latex holding her prisoner.
Penelope watched the short struggle, devouring the visual feast with hungry eyes. She watched the bed stretch and pull in opposition to the forces applied from within; watched as Bethany fought to try and find even the tiniest give in her prison. It was wonderfully erotic to see; and she could hardly think of anything more alluring. The latex formed a perfect shiny black second skin that hid details and in so doing accentuated the shape it covered, drawing the eye to the lines of Bethany's nude body and overall form. It was like a fresh coating of snow over a landscape, hiding the details and features; but instead of diminishing the grandeur of the scene it increased it and made the eye consider it more carefully. The struggle ceased and real comprehension born of experience dawned in the dark sapphire blue eyes.
"And now you begin to truly understand. Close your eyes."
Bethany did as she was told. Then she heard Penelope move, the sound of a luggage zipper, and a couple of moments later something soft that smelled of leather pressed over her eyes and Penelope's fingers were tying something behind her head.
"Open your eyes."
She did, and saw only darkness. Her eyelashes brushed against something when she blinked. A blindfold was over her face. She made a soft little sound of protest.
"You'll enjoy it. Now don't move, I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail." Penelope didn't want to lose sight of Bethany's lustrous blue eyes, but it was a worthwhile sacrifice considering how it would enhance what she had planned next. She made a quick trip to the kitchenette and retrieved a small platter with buffet samplers piled on it and a glass of ice cubes.
Bethany huffed again, and wasn't amused by the admonition to not move. Like she could go anywhere? And now she couldn't see anything either. Her senses were reduced to smell, taste, and hearing. Technically she still had touch, but all she could feel was the tight embrace of latex across every inch of her skin; which wasn't a bad thing, except she wanted more. No, that wasn't the right word, she was craving more, and her only source of touching was away, doing something else. She tried to move just her hands, flexed her fingers to try and draw them a little closer to her pussy. Just a little closer and she could get some friction, a bit of stimulation. She strained, only to be foiled by the latex.
She was so engrossed in the attempt she didn't hear Penelope return to the room or the platter and glass of ice rattle as they were placed on a nightstand; and as a result was taken completely by surprise when a pair of lips pressed into her mouth. The kiss was so unexpected she actually tried to jump away and yelp; which manifested as only a slight twitch within her prison and an odd sound that died in the lip lock. The embrace lasted for long seconds, then abruptly broke. Bethany raised her head, trying to chase the retreating lips, and when she couldn't pursue them any further she dropped back to the bed making a discontent sound. Damn! She badly wanted so much more.
Penelope smiled with satisfaction, enjoyment, and lust. It was obvious to her how much her captive was pining for stimulus, especially touch; and she fully intended to savor every moment of giving her that stimulation. She was already delighting in the mere anticipation of it all. But first it was time to relax a bit more.
"I'm going to take these clothes off, get a bit more comfortable. You don't mind do you?"
Bethany felt an instant charge, and a frantic desire to see the statuesque woman naked. Her voice in no way concealed that desire. "What? Please! Let me see you!" The tease was obvious in the response she received.
"Maybe after, if you've been a very good girl."
Bethany gave up a thick protesting whine, but nothing more; until a tenth of a second later when the thought occurred to her that she could try and shake the blindfold off. She tossed her head around, trying to rub whatever had been tied behind her head against the latex, to hopefully free it. She felt it slide a little, and there was a crack of light. Then there was a powerful hand fisted up around her braid and another wrapped about her jaw firmly holding her very still.
Penelope's voice was like steel, and yet there was still honey, and that lilting accent. "If I was your Mistress I'd be punishing you for that right now." The hand around Bethany's braid let go and readjusted the blindfold, cutting off all sight again. "But I am not, so I won't. However, if you do that again I will put a hood over your head. Do you understand?"
Bethany almost slipped with her response, but caught herself before she could say 'Yes Mistress', and remembered what she'd been told earlier. Her tone when she spoke was subdued and deferential. "Yes Penelope." And though the single glimpse of the other woman's hard command and strict demeanor was enough to plant fear in her, it also made her desire grow. She had no doubt this was a woman who could be a Domme and deserve the title Mistress. There was a quick kiss to her lips again, and a warm "Good girl." as the hand released her jaw. Then she heard a zipper and the rustle of fabric, and all she could do was imagine the sight that was being unveiled in the room.
Unlike the undressing of Bethany, Penelope's disrobing was no erotic affair. Her only desire was to drop her clothes, and that she did quickly. The zipper at the back of her dress was drawn down and she let it fall to the floor, then kicked it aside. The fallen black fabric revealed a body sculpted by regular exercise. It would be too much to say she was 'cut' but not out of line to describe her as 'defined'. With the dress removed, only a matched set of delicate black lacey bra and panties remained. They were quickly taken off, leaving Penelope clad in nothing but sky. Finally naked she laid down on the bed, next to her lovely captive, and reclined against a stack of pillows, keeping the nightstand with the buffet samplers and ice in arm's reach.
Bethany felt the bed shift some under her, and guessed Penelope must have sat or laid down next to her. There was a moment's pause, and then she thought she could smell pineapple. Another moment later and there was something cool, soft, and moist touching her lips. She opened her mouth, touched the mystery object with her tongue, and tasted pineapple. A little effort raised her head and she wrapped her lips around the offered treat, sucked it into her mouth and happily consumed it. When she was done chewing, something firm and smooth was drawn over her lips. She opened up again and moved to capture whatever it was with her mouth. It was quickly discovered to be a grape being held by a thumb and forefinger. The digits let go of the fruit, and Bethany held it with her tongue even while her lips sucked on the retreating fingers.
When they were out of reach she dispatched the grape and anticipated the next item. There was a faint scent she identified as apple just as the slice brushed her lips. She didn't have the opportunity to catch fingers, but when she was finished with the crisp comestible there were digits playing at her lips. She nipped at them, captured a finger with her teeth and suckled at it, drawing it into her mouth and running her tongue over its length. She could taste the faint remainder of fruits on the skin, but more brightly in her mind she could taste the skin; taste the flavor of the body of the woman she had such a hot desire for. Then she heard a low moan from Penelope, and it thrilled her to the core to think she was bringing her pleasure. She was allowed to caress the finger for several long moments before Penelope moaned again and withdrew her hand.
It wasn't just the treatment of her fingers that was making Penelope moan, it was her other hand dipping into her crotch and fondling her sex. The complete control she had over Bethany, and the girl's earnest desire to please was fueling the fire in her loins, and she was now at a point where she was no longer going to deny that flame. She took her fingers away from her captive's mouth, then leaned over to husk low syrupy words into her ear. "These have been in my cunt." She extracted her hand from between her legs and brushed her sex slick fingers over Bethany's lips.
The young gothic woman couldn't believe what she was being offered. If she had been capable, she would have been between the older woman's legs, pleasing her orally, just to repay the pleasure she had been receiving. There wasn't even a hint of hesitation as she opened her mouth and caught finger after finger between her teeth, sucked them past her lips, and rasped every hint of intimate flavor from their surfaces. Penelope watched the wanton display and moaned, loudly; she couldn't have asked for more out of an old lover, let alone a first time partner, and the thrill was powerful. When her last finger was finally cleaned she took it away, eliciting a low whined out sound that seemed to be part protest, part disappointment.
It didn't last long. There was a piece of fruit at Bethany's mouth again. It was a scent and flavor she wasn't familiar with, but she didn't care. Later she would learn it was guava, but in the moment, it was only good, and that's what mattered. More importantly, it gave her the chance to capture a finger again, to taste the skin of her beautiful and benevolent tormentor. She didn't succeed. The slice of persimmon granted her another opportunity, and she managed to trap a digit in her teeth. Penelope moved to pull it back, but her captive was insistent, tugging on it and doing her best to suck the finger further into her mouth. The woman with the powerful pale blue eyes relented, and was treated to another session of tongue rasping attention. She moaned, this time solely from the attention being paid to her finger. It was marvelous. Eventually she retrieved the digit and fed Bethany a piece of pineapple without giving up a finger. Her hand paid a second visit to her sex and she leaned in close to Bethany's ear, voice full of the heat of her excitement. "You wouldn't believe how wet you've made me." After long moments of stroking herself she separated her hand from her pussy and brought it to Bethany's lips.
The young woman with deep sapphire eyes wasn't thinking anymore. She had drifted into a place that consisted of nothing but sensations singing through her like a chorus. They brought her enormous pleasure and frustration. There were sex coated fingers under her nose again, and she enthusiastically invited them into her mouth, lavishing rich attention on each one until they were withdrawn. The feelings had her completely focused on her own mouth and lips, to the exclusion of the rest of her body; until she was sharply reminded of the rest of her flesh by an ice cube drawn across her sternum. The feeling was so vivid she initially cried out inarticulately, unsure what to make of it; her body bowing up off the bed despite the latex restraining her. When her mind and body caught up to each other she relaxed, falling flat; and the shriek transmuted into a visceral moan punctuated by breathless whines when the ice traveled over her breasts.
Watching and hearing the uncontrolled and uncontrollable reactions she was extracting from Bethany's body stoked the fire in Penelope's belly to a fever pitch. She discarded the ice, and rolled over, halfway onto Bethany's immobilized form. Her mouth was at the girl's ear, close enough to make her breath feel like a hot breeze. She threw one arm over her captive's chest, cupping a breast with her hand, and curled a leg over her hips. The position placed her crotch just below Bethany's left hand, and when she began fingering herself, her hand brushed back and forth over the other woman's hand. Words didn't escape her lips, but sounds did. They were crude and primitive, unmistakable in their carried meaning of raw sexual pleasure.
Bethany struggled fiercely in her latex cocoon, making aroused sounds as Penelope clutched at the young woman's chest, molesting her breasts and plucking at the nipples. She desperately desired freedom; to wrap her arms around the other woman, to feel her skin on her own, to make love to her. But she was held fast in a prison that robbed her of movement and touch even while it let her feel Penelope's frenetic motion, hear her ecstatic cries, and still taste an echo of her on her lips. She didn't have a word for how frustrating it was; and yet, despite that, or was it because of it?, it felt good, really really good, and somehow right. All she could do while the pale eyed statuesque woman approached orgasm on top of her was to lay there, endure the hand pawing at her chest, feel the body squirming on top of her, and listen to it happen.
And happen it did. Every sound Bethany made in arousal or frustration was like a siren's song in Penelope's ear, drawing her closer to orgasm. Every arrested struggling movement in her battle against the latex holding her prisoner was a hot spike of pleasure to Penelope's mind and body. The fingers in her pussy dove deep, seeking out familiar points that made her flesh hum with joy. All the stimulation quickly coalesced into a flood that she could not hold back for long, and when it burst upon her she came, loudly and with intense force. She shuddered for several long moments as the feeling raced across every nerve in her body, then left her laying limp.
Bethany was reduced to inarticulate whines and pleading sounds. She had never been so close to orgasm, so mind numbingly aroused in her entire life; and yet so far from blissful release. Before this night, she wouldn't have even believed it was possible to feel this way. The frustration was all consuming, and she began fighting with a new intensity to chase the release that was the only goal her mind could even conceive of anymore. Then there was a hand wrapped around her braid again, and syrupy words in her ear she barely had the ability to understand.
"Do you want to cum kitten?"
"Beg me for it."
"I want to hear you beg Bethany. Now beg me for it. Beg me to cum."
"Please! Please Penelope. Let me cum. Please!"
There were lips on her mouth again, kissing her with a ferocious ardor. Then there was a buzz and something cool, hard, and vibrating was pressed to her latex covered sex. It was only seconds, and Bethany was finally thrown over the edge into pure rapture, and an orgasm more powerful than anything she'd ever felt. The world was obliterated by it. There was no vacbed, no kiss, no vibrator on her sex, no sound or touch; there was only the feeling consuming her like an angry ocean devouring a beach. She screamed, not even knowing the sound was consumed in the kiss; and quaked inside the vacbed. It went on for long moments before she finally laid motionless again, save for the huge pulls of breath heaped into her lungs after the retreat of Penelope's lips.
5 - Aftermath
It was a long time before Bethany came back to Earth. She didn't really remember exiting the vacbed. Once the last echoes of the experience had faded far enough into background noise, her brain slowly reengaged. She found herself on the bed being gently held against a warm body behind her, cradled in strong arms, and a hand lightly running through her hair, now out of its braid. The simple contact brought her a deep warm pleasure and she gave up a quiet happy sound reminiscent of something a cat might make. Then it dawned on her who must be holding her, and how she probably ended up in the position she was in. Two impulses were immediately born; the first was to turn around and embrace Penelope, to tell her how thankful she was; the second was to turn around and pull away, so she could get an eye full of the tall willowy beauty's naked body. She settled on the first, as she could probably get away with the second afterward. She wiggled around in the hold, and with a little awkwardness folded her arm around the other woman's back and drew both bodies closer together.
Bethany nuzzled her face into Penelope's neck, her voice quiet and sincere. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
Penelope still spoke with her French accent, her voice also quiet and sincere. "You're very welcome Bethany. And thank you for allowing me to share in it."
"So, do I get to see you naked, or are you going to blindfold me again while you get dressed?"
Penelope let out a petite laugh at the question. "You were better than a very good girl. So, no blindfold for you." Then she disentangled herself from the embrace and stood next to the bed, turning in place like a ballerina to put herself on display.
Bethany's eyes drank in the sight, and her voice was shaded with no small amount of awe. "You're much prettier than I am."
"I disagree. But I won't press the issue. And can I assume that by saying I'm prettier, you at least think of yourself as pretty?"
"I might be beginning to believe you think I am."
Penelope smiled broadly, "Well, that's a step in the right direction.", then laid back down on the bed in front of the younger woman with the luminous dark blue eyes and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "You are beautiful."
Bethany blushed ever so slightly and moved to get up from the bed "I should probably go home." A hand on her arm pulled her back down.
"I'd rather you stayed. You don't have to. You can get dressed and take your limousine home, and I won't take offense if you do. But I really would like it if we spent the night together. We can order room service and ice cream, cuddle and talk. I want to get to know you better."
Bethany smiled in a rich, broad expression that reached all the way to the backs of her eyes. "I think I'd like that too."
Author's afterword : First, credit where it's due : I paraphrased/modified/absconded with/drew inspiration from something originally posted by someone else - "A lycra covered body is like a landscape covered in snow - the details and features are covered and hidden but rather than diminish from its beauty it somehow increases it and makes the eye appreciate it more carefully. --- Lycrajohn"
Second : This is obviously wide open for a Chapter 3 and beyond with hooks for a deepening plot and a continued exploration of Penelope and Bethany's relationship. I don't know if I'm going to write more of it, and as such I'm not going to promise any more. But, if I do, I'll post it to Gromet at Gromet's Plaza.
Third : Again, I hope you enjoyed reading this and if you want to contact the author, remove the African animals from the following e-mail address : [email protected]otRHINOmail.LIONcom