tagBDSMSydney

Sydney

byselene59©

The gate opened soundlessly as I turned into the property from the street, but the faint clack of its closing behind me almost made me jump. I breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of the roses that lined the path, hoping to calm my nerves. My eyes sought the front door, but it was barely discernible in the deep shadows of the verandah. I gathered my resolve, and strode purposefully towards the house. A stifled giggle escaped me at a stray thought - from my navy stilettos to my upswept hair I was a picture of understated elegance. Passers-by seeing the dark-haired lady in the cream suit approaching the elegant inner-city townhouse would probably think she was headed for a society afternoon tea!

I grasped the door-knob firmly, as if the contact would quell my urge to turn and flee. Closing my eyes, I turned the handle and... Pushed. Hard.

"Good afternoon Ma'am. It's good to see you - right on time. Won't you come in?" The receptionist was rising from her seat behind the desk in the foyer.

I walked towards her outstretched hand, vaguely aware of the door gently closing behind me.

"Everything is prepared, Ma'am. Angela will be here in a moment."

I took the envelope from my purse and handed it to her: watched her place it, unopened, in a small drawer to the left of her desk, then place a tick a beside a name (not recognisably mine) at the top of a list on the desktop. All the names below it were already ticked. She pressed a small white button on the wall by the desk and smiled gently at me "Don't be nervous - Angela will take good care of you."

* * * * *

Unlike the receptionist, whose neat appearance would have been appropriate at any business in the city, Angela's voluptuous body was laced into deep purple leather. I just hope I wasn't drooling as I watched her walk down the stairs behind the reception desk, but I guess she gets that sort of reaction from most of her customers. As she walked around the desk towards me, she snapped out an order. "Turn!"

I turned slowly, aware of her eyes taking in the details of my appearance. As I stopped, facing her, she reached one hand back towards the reception desk "Comb, please" and lifted my fringe with the comb proffered by the receptionist. She let the hair fall gently over my forehead, dropped the comb on the desk, then ran a fingernail along the edge of my lower lip. "Lovely... We're going up the back stairs."

I remembered to lift my chin and look straight ahead as I followed her around the front stairs and started that long walk to the back of the house. Seeing her in front of me - leather clad hips swaying, dark-red curls bouncing over her lightly-freckled shoulders, boot-heels tapping on the polished floor-boards - was almost enough to keep me from thinking of that long mirror. I resisted the urge to inspect myself in it, not sure how many people were watching me from the other side (I couldn't remember how many names had been on that list - too late to think of that now).

We finally reached the end of the hall. As she turned to ascend the stairs, she gave me an encouraging smile, then I was again following her. My grip on my purse relaxed - it was only then that I realised how tightly I had been clutching it as we walked along the hall. At the top of the stairs, Angela turned into a doorway on the left. I followed her. As I stepped through the doorway to the wardrobe, she turned to me with a black leather band in her outstretched hands. My mouth felt dry - I swallowed and stepped in close enough for her to wrap the collar around my neck. She leaned forward and reached her arms around to buckle it behind my neck. I bowed my head and my face was in her hair; I breathed in her scent. The urge to touch was almost irresistible, but I knew that to touch uninvited was not allowed.

I felt her fingernails running each side of my neck as she checked the collar for fit, then she gently lifted my chin and tugged at the D-ring set in the front. This time when I followed her, I felt my legs quiver.

She seated me in the chair in front of the dressing table. Without speaking, she removed the pins from my hair, and ran her fingers through it to fluff it out. She gathered it up and lifted it back into a style similar to the original, but much looser. She re-pinned it and arranged loose tendrils around my face and neck. It felt precarious - its fall from the arrangement seemed imminent.

She selected a pot of lip-gloss from the collection on the table, and brushed a deeper shade of plum over my lips. I looked from the mirror to her face, and back - the colour was the same as hers. She saw me looking and, grinning, licked her lips then leaned forward and kissed me. I closed my eyes, leaned my head back and arched up towards her, but her mouth was gone...

She hooked her finger in the exposed collar ring and stood me up. She removed my jacket and then, signalling me to help with buttons, took off my skirt and shirt. She inspected me again. This time, she didn't ask me to turn but walked around me, smiling at the lack of underwear. My shoes were all that I was wearing.

"Hmmm, wish I'd known that while we were downstairs - I could have used that" she murmured. "Some clothes would be better now, though."

She handed me a slither of burgundy silk. I fumbled for an opening, then eased it (being careful of my hair) over my head. The shoe-string straps settled over my shoulders, and I gasped as I saw my reflection in the dressing-table mirror. The front of the slip was barely high enough to cover my nipples, and the hem just covered my buttocks. Angela was behind me, and showed how easily accessible my breasts were. She flicked the silk aside with one fingernail and tweaked my nipples quickly before dropping the fabric back over them. I felt the toe of her boot pressing against the inside of my right ankle. I moved my foot, and as my legs parted she ran a wet finger along my lips - without disturbing the slip.

"Yesss" she hissed as she stepped back. I turned to follow as she beckoned, and saw her holding out another leather band. This one was heavy and padded - she grasped my wrist and buckled it firmly. From the table by the door, she first took another wrist cuff, and then two larger cuffs, kneeling to buckle them tightly around my ankles. Then she clipped a braided leash to my collar, and scooped up the last item on the table.

"Our guests are waiting"

* * * * *

Although she still held the leash, she propelled me through the door first. The first thing I noticed was the men. Standing quietly at one side of the room, those who weren't already looking our way turned quickly when I stepped through the door. They were all watching when Angela stepped in behind me. There seemed to be more than I had expected, but I was too nervous to count - I think about eight. I noticed one in particular - he looked young; dark hair; film-star good-looks; wearing a business suit like all the others.

Angela led me past the group - they stared voraciously, but made no comment and stayed in the same area. Now my attention left them; here were stocks, whipping-frames, racks of whips, and other instruments of restraint and punishment. She led me to a wooden A-frame. Looking into my eyes, she grasped both of my wrists and slowly lifted them above my head. I heard the sharp snap as she clipped my wrist cuffs to the apex of the frame. I shuffled my feet - I still had a little freedom of movement, and there was no stress on my shoulders.

I didn't have much time to test my position - now she kissed me. No teasing flutter: I could feel myself start to melt under those lips - alternately soft and murmuring and hard and insistent - and her probing tongue, nipping teeth. I felt her hands - one firm against the bare skin of my back, the other sliding silk gently across my hip and thigh. Her knee pressed between mine parting my legs... As she lifted her mouth from mine, I let my head fall back. I could feel my weight dragging on my wrist cuffs for a moment until I caught my balance.

Angela walked around behind me then and, reaching around under my arms, flicked aside the silk over my breasts. I looked up to see our audience arrayed along an invisible line about 2 metres in front of me. Their eye seemed fixed on her hands caressing my breasts, her fingers rolling my nipples, fingernails marking out the curves. I started to squirm, and felt her body press firmly into my back. She was pushing me forward, not allowing me to retreat from their gaze. I felt her hips thrust in hard against my buttocks, and her knees between my legs forcing me to move my feet further apart. She pulled me tightly against her chest with one arm, and ran her other hand between my thighs. She pulled her hand up hard between my pussy lips and up over my clit. Grabbed the hem of the slip and lifted it, giving my hips a huge thrust forward at the same time. I felt the heat as my face flushed at the thought of those men all staring at my exposed shaved pussy lips. Her push had lifted my heels from the floor, and I felt the trembling that started in my thighs rise until my shoulder were shuddering against hers. I could feel her warm breath behind my ear, and she whispered - small comforting hushing noises - as she moved back to let me stand comfortably again.

Two of the men started to walk towards us. I turned to see that Angela was beckoning them. She pushed my jaw to return my gaze to the front. They knelt in front of me and, each taking one ankle, removed my shoes. The younger of the two (in his late thirties, perhaps) ran his hands up my calf to the knee. Angela growled at him, and he let go. The other man lifted my foot, and moved it outwards until he could clip my ankle cuff to the base of the frame, then he returned to the "viewing area". The younger man awaited Angela's signal, then clipped my other ankle to the other side of the frame (a little more than a metre away). Now I tested the range of movement available to me. I could just stand with feet flat on the floor - my shoulders were strained in that position, though. If I stood on tip-toes, I could ease the pressure on my shoulders a little. I decided to stand on one foot, the other foot resting on my toes for while.

Angela had sent the younger man off and he returned with a small padded stool which he placed in front of me, then he too returned to the viewing area. Angela was still behind me - she reached forward and dangled a leather blindfold in front of my face. I tried to slow my breathing as she positioned it over my eyes and buckled it behind my head.

* * * * *

The room was very quiet... I had felt Angela's touch and then her presence withdraw from behind me, and now all I could hear was the swish of the blindfold against my hair at every small movement of my head. Perhaps... a faint shuffling, rustling in front of me?

Suddenly, hot breath and then a warm wet soft tongue against my clit. I felt my thighs and buttocks clench and I rose to my toes, but as there was no further touch or movement I slowly relaxed and settled back down onto one foot. Then that tongue began a slow lazy slurp, licking up until the tip of the tongue just flicked off the top of my clit, then returning, soft and warm and wet, and licking up... up... up... warm... hypnotic...

The brush of silk moving across my belly, fingernails sliding up along the line of my hip-bones, fabric ruching up around my waist. One arm curving around my thigh, pulling me closer to that face, fingernails digging in to my inner thigh from the back. Tongue dipping lower, lower between my lips, teeth nibbling on my clit, lips engulfing me wetly. I hear a moan... I think it's me...

Another, larger hand rubbing silk at my waist... My feet aren't touching the floor any more. More hands under my arched back, taking some of my suspended weight from my wrists. One slim finger probing, turning inside me. My clit pulsing in and out between lips, teeth... sucked in, spat out... Another finger... two curled and stroking... I want more - I push hard against them.

Three fingers, four? Thrusting onto them, heedless of the teeth tugging at my clit, fingers pinching my nipples, hands lifting my ankles higher... More hands lifting my hips higher... The mouth over my clit slows... reverts to soft, gentle, lapping... The hands at my hips holding firmly, stilling my squirming, my ankles being lifted, knees bending up to my chest... The hand in my pussy no longer sliding in and out; just pressing. Pressing harder... I try frantically to relax my body for what is to come... panting... As I relax and stop squirming, more hands stroke my legs, face, neck...

I feel myself open and Angela's hand slithers inside me. I'm laughing, crying, shaking uncontrollably as I feel the waves of orgasm wrack my body. There's a small part of me that notices hot wet splashes falling on my skin...

As my shuddering subsides, Angela slowly withdraws her hand, and then her warm mouth. I'm lifted and my wrists are unclipped from the frame. I'm laid on a couch, where I curl up tightly. My blindfold is removed, and when I open my eyes I see Angela sitting beside me. She strokes my hair (no longer tied up - but I can't remember when it fell), and licks traces of come from my breasts. I start to stretch out a little. One of the few men still in the room is staring at us. She waves him away, and pulls a blanket over me. I drift off to sleep to the sound of her humming.

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by Anonymous08/27/13

I have had only one experience in a BDSM 'dungeon,' but after reading this story... I'm sure I'm going back soon!

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