Diana's Dark Desires Ch. 04

Life in our apartment went on as normal, if that were possible, for a week or two after the party at Mandy's. Laura and I spent the following weekend with Gary and Louis, during which Gary persuaded me to have a ring put in my clitoris-hood. He called Talia, who took me to her tattoo-shop the following evening to have it done. In truth, it hurt quite a lot, but having Talia there with me was a comfort, and the process gave me a strange surge of excitement, even though I knew I should have to eschew any sexual activity for a few days, at least, until the soreness subsided.

When we were having dinner one evening, I said to Laura, 'Can we talk?'

'Of course, darling,' she said, a sliver of pizza poised halfway to her mouth.

'Look,' I said, 'this is a bit difficult, but there's something I need to talk about, and you're the only real friend I've got.'

She smiled, and said, 'Name it.'

'You know I'm a submissive, and.......'

'And,' she interrupted, 'you need to be dominated. Darling, do you think I haven't thought about it? I know you by now, almost better than you know yourself. I love having you here, but all good things must come to an end, and we must find you a Master. I shall talk to Louis - he knows a lot of people.'

We left it at that, and I heard Laura having a long telephone conversation later on that evening.

Next day, in the office, my intercom buzzed, and it was Louis, summoning me to his palatial office.

'Come in, Diana, and take a seat,' he said, from behind his huge desk. He regarded me quietly for a few moments, and then said, 'I shall be sorry to lose you.'

'But...but....,' I started.

He put a hand up to silence me, and smiled.

'I know, I know, but you are not leaving the firm. Laura has spoken to me, and I have made an arrangement for you I trust you will like. This afternoon, you will be sent for.'

'Sent for!' It sounded chilling. I hardly knew what to expect, and ate my lunchtime sandwich in a state of nervous excitement. Neither could Laura enlighten me - or maybe she didn't want to - as to what was to happen to me.

About three-thirty my buzzer sounded, and a voice told me to put my coat on and report to Reception. I did so.

I was met by a liveried chauffeur, who showed me out to a large black Lexus with smoked rear windows, and opened the rear door for me in silence. He closed the intersecting window, precluding conversation, and I was driven for not more than ten minutes, to somewhere in the City, I guessed. We drew up outside a large glass-clad edifice, and the door was opened for me. I got out, and walked in through electronic doors, and straight into a lift, up to the twelfth floor. I was in a state of nervous tension when I was shown into an office bigger than that of Louis, and infinitely better appointed. Expecting a man to greet me, I was more than a little surprised when the most elegant lady I had ever seen stepped out of a closet in front of me. She was tall, about 1.75 metres, and slender, and had platinum blonde hair swept up in a French knot, accentuating her classical, high-cheek-boned features. She wore a plum-coloured business-suit with a pencil-slim skirt, and a simple white silk blouse. Her slim nylon-clad legs were supported on elegant heels. Diamonds glittered unostentatiously - but unmistakeably - from several fingers, her ear-lobes, and a pendant at her swan-like neck.

'So you are Diana,' she said, sitting down behind an enormous desk, and regarding me coolly for perhaps half a minute without saying anything further, while I shuffled nervously from one foot to the other. Her steel-grey eyes bored into me like gimlets, and then she continued, 'I am Helen Barrington, owner and managing director of the company. Louis is my branch manager, and has sent you here - that is all you need to know about me, I think. I can see you were surprised to find yourself faced by a woman - I know why you are here.' She almost smiled as she said this, but paused again, to let her last remark sink in. I was, indeed, taken aback, and couldn't imagine being dominated by a woman, but this was about to change, dramatically.

Suddenly standing up behind the desk, she said harshly, 'Undress!'

I was shocked by her sudden change of attitude, and fumbled as I struggled to rid myself of my jacket, then even more as I fiddled with the buttons of my silk blouse. I felt more embarrassed than I would have thought possible as I bared my breasts in front of the watching woman, but she tapped her desk impatiently as I was again all thumbs trying to release the waistband of my tailored, pleated skirt. I was of course wearing no panties, something I was by now well used to, but, as the weather had now grown cooler, I had taken to wearing stockings and a satin suspender-belt. My naked, hairless, pussy was, however, completely exposed, when I dropped my skirt, and I was left standing in my stilettos, black stockings and garter-belt. I had never felt more vulnerable in my life.

She regarded me critically, sitting back down as she did so.

'Turn around!' she ordered, and I obeyed.

'Bend over!' she said - again I did as she instructed, wondering if she was about to strike me, but she said, 'Stand up, and get dressed.'

Her unblinking grey eyes were still on me as I did as she told me, and I was more nervous than ever.

As I finished buttoning my blouse, she came around her desk, and motioned me to sit in a leather armchair, then sat down herself in its twin, facing me, her eyes still unnervingly on mine.

'I make you nervous,' she said. It was a statement, not a question.

'Yes,' I agreed.

'Why?' she asked.

'I don't know,' I confessed, 'but I'm scared of you, I think.'

'Then we have the basis of the kind of relationship I have in mind,' she said.

I was less sure. I could envisage myself being enslaved by a dominant man - in fact, it was what I had been dreaming off, but a woman? Then again, this was no ordinary woman - her eyes, her very presence, had an effect upon me I couldn't begin to understand.

'When were you last whipped?' she suddenly asked.

'Oh, two weeks ago,' I replied, hardly able to remember when Gary had beaten me with his belt.

'Yes, ' she mused, almost to herself, 'you are virtually unmarked.'

She continued to regard me silently, which I found terribly unnerving - it was all I could do to sit still, and I dropped my eyes from hers.

As if that were a signal, she spoke again, 'You are not, I have to say, apparently very well prepared. I will not, at this point, go into specifics. I simply say to you that I have need of the services of a beautiful young woman like yourself, twenty-four hours a day. Should you decide to come to me, your life will be mine, to do as I wish with. You will live by my rules, many of which will seem harsh, even cruel. Go now - I want your answer tomorrow at this time.'

I was bursting to ask questions about where I should live, what work I should do, after all - 24 hours a day! But Helen Barrington, stood abruptly, extended a hand to me so that I was practically obliged to follow suit, shook hands with me formally, turned on her elegant heel, and left, to be replaced immediately by the chauffeur who had brought me there. He ushered me back into the lift, and I thus made my way back to my office, my mind doing somersaults.

I could hardly wait to get home and talk with Laura, but, in the event, she wasn't a lot of help, merely telling me to follow my own impulses, which, I suppose, was what I was going to do. I went to bed that night with Helen Barrington's grey eyes boring into my skull, and found that I was masturbating myself to sleep, day-dreaming of stroking those wondrous long, slim legs as she looked disdainfully down on me. I awoke next morning knowing what my answer had to be.

I had difficulty working that morning, so excited was I about the prospect of being in the company of Helen Barrington once more. After snatching a bite of lunch, I asked the receptionist to get me Ms Barrington's office on the telephone, and she gulped, and said, 'Are you sure, Diana?'

When I was put through, her crisp voice simply said, 'Yes?'

'It's Diana,' I said, 'from yesterday. The answer is yes, please.'

'Good,' she said, 'you'll be sent for.' The phone went dead, and I was left staring at the silent instrument, wondering what I had done.

Half an hour later, my buzzer went, and I was summoned to reception, where the same silent chauffeur waited for me. Fifteen minutes later I was stood in front of Ms Barrington's huge desk, while she conducted a business call, in a language I was unfamiliar with, but sounded like Japanese. As I stood there, she crossed her long legs, clad today in shiny nylons, as she reclined in her luxurious chair, and I found myself unable to take my eyes off her shapely form as her skirt rode up and she smoothed it back down with her long, long fingers. I knew now, beyond doubt, that my decision was the only one for me. Louis knew me, and had known what I needed.

Her conversation ended, she turned her attention to me, and pushed a sheet of paper across the desk to me.

'Sign this,' she said, 'it's an agreement that you will be with me for a week, after which you have an option to leave - or I to ask you to.' She smiled briefly, passed me a Mont Blanc pen, and I signed, without reading.

She sat back down, and regarded me, as was her way, I was beginning to find out. I was not invited to sit down, so remained standing, a little awkwardly.

'Diana,' she began, 'you have signed to pass at least week with me - hopefully much more - and I can only tell you that it will be like nothing you have ever known before. You will experience a great deal of pain, and, I think, much pleasure. I set much store by ritual, and expect you to follow my rules. You will both live and work with me, but your work will not be exacting - just answering the phone for me, and filing. At home, you will have no housework, cleaning or cooking to do, as you will have a personal maid. Your rules are set down on the sheet of paper I have had typed up for you - here you are.' With that she handed me a typewritten sheet, and buzzed her intercom.

Within seconds, a pretty little Asian girl wearing a tight black mini-dress came and escorted me to a small office next door down the corridor, comfortably but simply furnished. I sat at the desk to read my 'rules.' I was horrified by some of them, at first, though others were already second nature. The sheet read:-

DIANA - HOUSE RULES

1.You will keep your body clean and free of all body hair at all times.

2.You will maintain physical fitness, and work out in my personal gymnasium daily.

3.You will wear no panties at any time, neither will you wear trousers.

4.You will address your Mistress as 'Mistress' except when other people are present, when 'Helen' is appropriate.

5.You will not sit down in the presence of your Mistress unless told to do so.

6.You will not look your Mistress directly in the eye.

7.In the home, you will always wear one of the gowns which will be provided - nothing else.

8.You will be provided with a collar, which you must wear at all times.

9.You will be provided with ankle- and wrist-cuffs, which you must always wear in the home. When your Mistress is at home, your ankles will always be shackled.

10.Your maid will assist you, dress you and do your hair and make-up, but she will not enter into any conversation with you regarding your life in general

I sat, and read it all again, and again, and then the door opened, and thee Asian girl entered, 'Ms Barrington wants you!'

I followed her into the huge office, and she left me facing the desk, and withdrew quietly.

'Well,' said Helen.

I cast my eyes down obediently enough, I thought, 'It didn't say anything about....about punishment, Mistress.'

'I know it didn't,' she said, 'we can't go putting everything in print, can we?'

She got up and came around the desk and I felt her tall, perfumed presence, then she slowly lifted my skirt, raking my thighs lightly with her nails.

'Bend down, over the desk, dear,' she said, and I saw her stilettos as she moved around beside me, then she pulled my skirt right up over my waist, and I saw her out of the corner of my eye, picking up a long office ruler.

Without preliminaries, she lashed it hard down across my naked buttocks, causing me to writhe and scream.

'Quiet,' she said sternly, 'another sound and you'll get twenty instead of ten.'

'Oh,' I moaned, and, by the time the vicious ruler had landed six times, I was sobbing quietly, squirming, and bucking as the warmth in my arse was now being matched by a new heat that was starting to build deep within my cunt.

Helen paused to finger my slit, and, withdrawing her sticky fingers, held them to her nose and smelt my juices, then put them into my own mouth or me to lick clean.

'You're a dirty bitch, aren't you, Diana?' she said

'Yes....yes, Mistress,' I remembered to say.

She struck me four more times, and, when she was satisfied, told me to go and tidy myself up in her en-suite bathroom.

When I came back, she was sat at her desk again.

'There,' she said, 'that didn't count as a whipping, but I shall whip you, or have you whipped, every other day, more-or-less, for the time being, I think. Now you must go home. I will send for Donald.'

I protested that I should need to collect my things from my flat, but she waved away any protests I could make, and told me everything I could possibly need was at her home.

The chauffeur, Donald, whisked me off in the Lexus to an isolated mansion off Hampstead Heath, and as we drew up on a gravel drive, a girl in a maid's uniform trotted out to open my door.

'Hello, I'm Astrid,' said the pretty pony-tailed blonde, in a short black skirt, black stockings and black stilettos, 'you must be Diana. I am your maid.'

She showed me upstairs in a quite palatial house, to a high-ceilinged room, with a four-poster bed, from the roof of which, ominously enough, I noticed there hung a steel chain with a snap-link at its end. Otherwise the room seemed normal enough, with many wardrobes, all with mirrored doors, and an en-suite bathroom equipped with all kinds of toiletries and perfumes.

Astrid pointed to one big wardrobe, and said, 'There are all the gowns you must wear in the house. On the bed are your collar and the cuffs you must wear in the house. I will help you with your collar.' She had a trace of an accent.

I sat on the bed and she got out the collar, which was beautiful, studded with diamonds, and made of silver. It fitted quite snugly around my neck, and had a small ring at the front, to which I assumed my Mistress could attach a leash if she wished.

'I will leave you to put on the cuffs,' said Astrid, and went out. They were all quite heavy silver, and snapped closed around my slender wrists and ankles. Each had a silver ring set into it, so that they could be attached to something.

I turned my attention to the gowns I was required to wear when in the house. I only hoped we never had visitors, as each of them was transparent, or at the very least, translucent. They were all floor-length, with long sleeves and high necks, covering me completely, but leaving nothing to the imagination. I put on a rose-coloured one, and a pair of matching high-heeled mules, then took my time over my hair and make-up.

Some little time after I heard a scrunching of gravel, which announced the arrival of a vehicle, Astrid knocked at my door, and came in, with a box.

'It is time for you to go down to Mistress,' she said, and set the box down on the bed beside me, producing from it a short length of chain, snap-links at either end, which she used to shackle my ankles. Thus hobbled, I let her show me the way down the stairs, which I negotiated with some difficulty, to Mistress Helen's lounge.

She had changed out of her business suit, and was now dressed in a long, flowing, white silk gown, of a Grecian style, which matched her hairstyle. She was standing by the fireplace, where a log fire was burning, her arm draped along the mantelshelf. Vivaldi was playing on a good hi-fi system.

'Diana,' she said, 'you look more like a slave should now. Come.'

She sat down on a white leather sofa, and when I made to sit beside her, she waved a finger at me, and pushed out a cushion on the floor at her feet.

'You sit here,' she said, and I obediently got down on the floor.

'Now,' she said, 'let me explain. When we don't have guests - like tonight - we eat here, but when we entertain, we eat in the dining room, and you are allowed to sit at the table.

'But am I still to be dressed like this?' I asked, appalled at the idea that others would see me as a submissive, and so exposed.

'Of course,' she said, 'my guests will be aware of your role, and some will be invited to share you with me, and to participate in your punishment too.'

As she said this, she was stroking my hair, and her other hand moved down to toy with my nipples through the thin material off my gown. Then she bent to kiss me, and I let her feel my tongue-stud, let it rasp along her own tongue as she snaked it into my mouth. She roughly pulled up her skirt, the silk swishing as it rode up her long, slim legs, past her shapely knees, and I nestled in close to her, gently pushing her thighs apart, questing up them, seeking her fleshier upper thighs. Her legs now parted, almost involuntarily, and a moan escaped her aristocratic lips as I reached her hairless pussy-lips, which were puffy and moist with secretions. I fingered them, and parted them with two fingers, then found the warmth of her cunt with two fingers of the other hand, which I immediately thrust deep into her ready hole. She screamed out loud, in as extreme a reaction as I had ever heard, and her nails raked my back through my gown as she came with the force of a tidal wave. I couldn't believe either the suddenness or the primeval force of her orgasm, after no more than a rapid touch, and she was smiling down at me.

Helen rang a little bell she had on a coffee table, and trays were brought to us by a maid I hadn't seen before, with well-prepared salads and a variety of fruit. It was a shade uncomfortable eating at my Mistress's feet, but I should have to get used to it. When we had finished, she called for her maid again, this time telling me that her name was Gala. Gala appeared with a tray, and from it, Helen took a silver-studded leash, which she clipped to the ring in my collar.

'I know this is unnecessary,' she said, 'but you must get accustomed to ritual.' With that, she stood, and led me, my chains clanking, up the stairs, to her enormous bedroom.

Once there, she released my leash and ankle-chain, and told me to undress, a matter of seconds.

'You will come to bed with me now,' she said, slipping out of her dress, which fell to the floor with a silken swish, revealing her lean, fit body, with small breasts and a tiny waist. She sat on the edge of her bed, and Gala appeared from nowhere, brush in hand, to tend to her hair.

Minutes later, she enfolded me within her embrace between cool silk sheets. She was a surprisingly generous lover, and when she massaged my clitoris, it was for my pleasure, pure and simple, as if she knew I needed to cum. Cum I did, in great waves of sumptuous orgasm after orgasm, as first she finger-fucked me to my climax, then, she went down and drove me to a frenzy of ecstasy with her tongue. I cried out to her, 'Oh, Mistress, I love you, yes, yes, yes!'

When she had finished me, I started on her. She was still lapping my cunt, running her tongue the length of my crack, when I got myself into a '69' position and pulled her labia wide apart. She moaned as I flicked her clit with my stud, and grabbed my head with both hands, dragging me forcibly tight into her, so that I could hardly breathe.