tagBDSMUncommon Law

Uncommon Law

bykrr1957©

This story deals with themes of reluctance and coercion against a background of female domination. Please do not read it if you think you might be offended.

Chapter 1

I first saw her at an Arbitration Panel. The opposition had appointed Dawsons as counsel and I expected to be up against "Straight" Jack Daniels so it was a big surprise when Ellen walked into the conference room.

She looked young to be a partner, particularly at Dawsons, but she held herself with an assured air of self confidence.

Her two piece business suit pulled off the trick of being formal but slightly daring with her black skirt worn a couple of inches above the knee. Her makeup was minimal and her face, framed by soft, dark, curls, looked a little stern, until she smiled. Her teeth were not quite perfect but this conferred a naturalness that marked her out as a real beauty.

I was confident of our case going in but she dragged up a precedent that my researchers had missed and I wound up hanging on by my fingernails. It did not help that the arbitrator himself seemed totally smitten.

For days afterwards she remained in my thoughts and I considered giving her a call but that was not my usual style. I have been blessed with good looks of my own and, whilst at university, I had paid my way by doing some modelling. The long and the short of it was that girls normally came on to me.

Fate intervened when I was invited to share a corporate box at the World Cup qualifier and found that she was one of the attendees. She looked totally relaxed, dressed in a linen shirt and tight jeans, drinking Bud from the bottle.

By the end of the game I had drunk a little too much and I wound up making a clumsy pass at her. She laughed it off, said she was in a relationship, and took her leave.

A few days later I did something out of character for me. I phoned Lisa and asked her out for a drink. I suppose you would call us fuck buddies but I knew that, in reality, she wanted it to be more than that. She was a successful commercial property lawyer but, more pertinently, she had recently done some project work for Dawsons.

I think she saw through me when I asked about Ellen but she gave up what she knew anyway. Apparently, Ellen had only recently been made a partner, the youngest in the firm's history, and was destined for great things. On the personal front, as far as Lisa knew, she had her male admirers but no steady boyfriend.

Now more intrigued than ever, and perhaps a little put out that she had turned me down, I compromised my professional integrity. On the pretext of discussing our arbitration case, which was still pending a formal decision, I invited her out to lunch. Much to my surprise she accepted and I booked a table at Browns.

I was already seated when she arrived formally dressed but looking undeniably sexy. She ordered a salad and mineral water and I had the veal pie. During the meal I kept up the pretence of discussing the case but she cut right across me.

"Look, we both know that you didn't ask me here to discuss the finer points of the law. Please, don't take this badly, you're a cute guy but I think I'm a little too much for you to handle."

I was unsure if she was talking professionally or personally but decided on the latter and I snorted derisively. I liked to think that I lived life to the full.

For a few seconds her dark eyes held mine.

"Go down on me."

It was the utter calmness with which she said it that shocked me but I quickly regained my composure and smiled.

"Would you like me to book a hotel room? I know a good one, nice and discrete."

I wanted to call her bluff and, at the same time, let her know that I was not new to this.

She returned my smile.

"That won't be necessary. I want you to do it right here, right now."

She had to be joking. I had deliberately booked one of the booths to allow for some privacy but we were not shut off altogether. She looked amused as I took a quick look around me.

"Wait a moment."

As she spoke she bent forward a little. With a couple of quick movements she sat up straight again and showed me her hand. She was holding a bunched pair of white panties which she coolly tucked into her handbag.

"Whenever you're ready..."

I now felt trapped by my own bravado. If I chickened out I just made her point for her.

The linen tablecloth fell almost to the floor and so the chances of being seen once beneath it were minimal but I found it incredulous that I was even contemplating it. I decided that she was simply engaging in a little brinkmanship; if I did kneel beneath the table she would probably squeal and drag me back up into my seat again.

Now that I had seen through her I smiled, checked that no one was looking, and slid under the table.

She did not squeal. Instead, she hitched her skirt and slowly splayed her legs.

I noted, peripherally, how toned and smooth they were but my eyes were riveted on her lewdly revealed sex. Fortunately, she was immaculately depilated as the natural look has never appealed to me.

In truth, performing oral sex held no great attraction. Of course, nowadays, more and more women expected it but, in my book, the quicker the better and, if it could be avoided altogether then great.

I gave her points for her chutzpah but I was still convinced that she was not expecting me to go through with it. Smiling, I leaned forward and placed a single kiss high on her mons hoping to catch her by surprise.

"Nice, but you'll have to do better than that."

I have to admit that her remark took me aback. The choice was mine, I could retake my seat and call it a day or I could do as she asked and wait to see where it led; perhaps, even, a little reciprocation on her part.

I was now more acutely aware of my surroundings, not least the muted conversations of other diners, but I felt reasonably secure in the shrouded darkness.

I braced myself and took a first tentative lick and was surprised to find that she did not seem aroused. This suggested that she really was acting on a whim and I found it a little unsettling.

I decided that a more direct approach was needed. I shifted my weight a little so that I had the use of my hands but she nudged the side of my head with her knee.

"Just your tongue..."

I was growing angry now and I was strongly tempted to just get up and leave but, perversely, I found myself considering the consequences if, at some point in the future, we found ourselves on opposite sides of a court room. I was determined that, from a psychological standpoint, she was not going to leave with the upper hand.

With a complete lack of subtlety I licked her a couple of times and then pressed my mouth to her sex and tried to push my tongue inside.

She still seemed unmoved but there was a hint of something familiar. I persevered and an initial sharp tang yielded to a more mellow taste. With almost obscene ease she was transforming from a reluctant virgin to a whore in heat.

Her neat sex felt as if it had grown in size and was preparing to devour me. Within seconds she was leaking moisture and, in the confined space, the scent of her arousal had a frightening intensity.

In my shirt and tie I began to feel uncomfortably warm but I could now feel her muscles clenching and holding my tongue in place. For a second or two it became difficult to breathe as my nose was pressed more closely to the heated maw but then she suddenly relaxed.

She had not reached a climax, of that I was sure, but she was content to have reached a plateau.

"Enough..."

At first I had been reluctant but now, with a painful erection demanding attention, I would have willingly continued. My hope was that this contrived scene was just a little foreplay and that we could move on to the main event as soon as we left the restaurant.

I got up from the floor, grateful for some fresh air, and sat back down again. My face was wet and I reached for my napkin but she put her hand on mine.

"Leave it..."

I reeked of her but she seemed amused by it and the more so when the waiter brought the bill. The eventual look of recognition in his eyes was followed by one of disbelief and she could barely contain her laughter.

On the pavement outside I hinted about a hotel but she was writing a number on her business card.

"I'll give you a chance to finish what you started...but make sure you shave a lot closer next time."

Her tone sounded a little condescending. I was not sure what to make of it as I unconsciously leaned forward to kiss her cheek in farewell but she smiled even as she wrinkled her nose.

"I don't think so, do you?"

Chapter 2

Over the next few days I bedded three women, Lisa amongst them, but there was a hollowness about each encounter. Ellen still haunted my thoughts even though I had convinced myself that I would not call her up.

The trouble was that her remark about being "too much to handle" still rankled.

Working late at the office one night I picked up her business card with her personal number penned on the reverse. I looked at it for a long time before arriving at what, for me, amounted to a sensible decision and dismissively threw it into the bin.

A couple of weeks passed and life moved on. I could not put her out of my mind all together but the memory was certainly fading. Then events conspired against me.

I received a call from the Arbitrator summoning me to a late afternoon meeting. This was unusual in itself in that decisions in such cases were unappealable and usually notified in writing.

Ellen was there when I arrived and I gave her a cursory acknowledgement before taking a seat. The Arbitrator started off by telling us that he had had difficulty in arriving at his judgement and that he had called us in to explain his reasoning.

This was not good. I had told my clients that the case was a slam dunk and now I sat there stony faced as he announced a proportionate award. It went sixty forty in our favour but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that it was a victory for Ellen.

Afterwards she offered to buy me a drink and it was tempting to make an excuse but I did not want to be accused of sour grapes.

We went next door to the wine bar which was quickly filling up with barristers and law clerks but we found a couple of spare bar stools. Ellen remained totally professional and she was magnanimous in victory. She told me that my researchers had let me down and that she had got lucky in the choice of Arbitrator.

Throughout, I tried to gauge her interest in me but she gave no clear signals and I prepared to call it a day.

We were both going south of the river and shared a taxi. When we arrived at her address I was suitably impressed and did a mental calculation of the value of the large town house. As I did so she must have read my thoughts.

"I share the lease with a couple of friends. Just because I'm not interested in a long term relationship doesn't mean that I have to live alone."

Seemingly on a whim she turned in her seat.

"Come in for coffee. You can meet them."

I let her lead me inside and found the interior to be no less impressive that the exterior facade. The ground floor was dominated by a large, airy, reception room with French doors leading to a well kept garden.

Seated, watching television, on one of a pair of matched sofas, was a stunning looking blonde. She was wearing a short bath robe, with her legs curled under her, but I had the impression that she was tall.

Her hair was damp and hung heavily as she allowed it to dry naturally but she had already applied her makeup. Silver grey eye shadow accented her clear blue eyes and her full lips glinted with a coating of pale pink lip gloss.

"Naomi, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine."

The blonde limply raised a hand before turning back to her programme and Ellen smiled as she chided her.

"Naomi's off men at the moment. Wait here and I'll introduce you to Beth."

Naomi did not seem minded to strike up a conversation and so I examined some of the prints on the walls. It was an eclectic mix. There was a Modigliani, an Yves Tanguy, and an image of Sophia Loren in basque and stockings from the film 'The Millionairess".

Ellen returned with Beth in tow. I suppose her name had led me to expect an English girl but her friend had dark Levantine features. It was not a look that normally appealed to me but she was something special.

She was wearing a loose white shift over a pair of thin harem pants which emphasised her dusky skin tone and the fluid movement of her body as she walked. She had an extraordinary poise and her face was made all the more startling for being totally devoid of makeup.

Her large eyes were dark brown, almost black, but sparked with vitality and her smile, displaying perfect white teeth, was captivating.

She was far more approachable than Naomi and, whilst coffee was prepared, I learned that she was a qualified vet. Naomi, it transpired, was p.a. to a director of an investment bank.

Ellen rejoined us and, as we chatted, I was wondering what my chances with Beth would be. When I had finished I put my empty cup down on to coffee table and, for the first time, noticed the plastic sculpture placed in the centre.

It was cast in clear acrylic, about five inches tall, and looked like a partially melted candle that was slowly keeling over. It was intriguing if only because it seemed so tacky in comparison with the other pieces in the room including a nice selection of Murano glass.

Ellen saw where I was looking and laughed.

"I see you've spotted our little wager."

My bemusement must have shown because she continued.

"Naomi was, until recently, engaged to be married but she called it off."

At this point Naomi frowned but Ellen ploughed on.

"Her husband to be had planned a stag weekend in Amsterdam but Naomi didn't trust him. She was insisting that he wore this."

She held up the plastic object and its purpose became hideously apparent. I could not see exactly how it worked but it was clearly designed as a cock restraint. Naomi unsuccessfully tried to maintain a stern visage but burst out laughing.

"He refused to wear it and I called the whole thing off."

It sounded to me as if that was exactly her intention and she was simply trying to find an excuse. I was not warming to her and even less so as she continued.

"Since then the three of us have been adding money to a pool every week. The first one of us who can persuade a man to wear it gets to scoop the pot."

It sounded absurd but I had no difficulty in believing it of Naomi, perhaps even Ellen, it was Beth that surprised me. I had her pegged as less assertive than the other two but the smile that crossed her face as she awaited my reaction suggested a hitherto unseen side to her nature.

I decided that the time had come to leave. I asked to use the bathroom and I was just finishing up when Ellen walked in. I was sure that I had locked the door but she was standing there with a flush of excitement on her face.

She stepped closer to me and pressed the flat of her hand to my groin. This turn of events caught me completely off guard leaving me to wonder just exactly what was on offer.

"I want you to wear it for me."

She spoke quickly as if she had only just arrived at the decision.

I paused before answering.

"You want me to put it on so that you can win your bet?"

I hoped my tone conveyed the sense of 'no way in hell'.

"No, you can have the money if you like, I want to know just how close to the edge you're prepared to play."

Alarm bells were ringing but the natural competitor in me was rising to the fore. There was no way that I was going to let her think that she had got the better of me once again. She must have seen the wavering look in my eyes because, with a magicians flourish, she produced the contraption from behind her back.

With a sly smile she held it up and gently kissed it and I felt an involuntary twitch between my legs. Then she pressed it into my hand.

"See you in a moment."

With that she was gone leaving me feeling faintly ridiculous. The only advantage to this was that Ellen would get to see just what she might be missing. I consider myself to be in good shape and, when compared to the average, well endowed.

I stripped off, grateful that I had recently topped up my tan, and began to examine the device. The fitting was simple enough. A ring closed at the root, behind my sac, and the enclosure cage was then slipped on to mate with it.

It had spacers to accommodate different sizes but, curiously, it needed no adjustment to fit me.

I smiled to myself as I examined the image that the mirror presented. It weighed very little, in spite of its rigid construction, and there was no discomfort. The only problem was that it seemed to make me look smaller than I knew myself to be in reality.

I was still checking myself out when Ellen came back in. For a second or two she took stock, appreciatively looking me up and down, but then her eyes fixed on my groin.

"Oh, that is so beautiful."

I flattered myself that she was referring to my physical attributes but she quickly turned on her heel saying.

"Wait, wait, wait!"

She disappeared for a few seconds but almost immediately returned. It took me a moment to realize what she was doing but, before I could think to stop her, she had affixed and locked a dinky padlock onto the device.

"There, now you can come and show the others."

I was in serious need of a reality check as I walked into the living room but my ego was stoked when both Naomi and Beth gave me approving looks.

Naomi stood up and clapped her hands.

"We have a winner."

Ellen gave a mock bow and I decided that they had had their fun. I started to turn back towards the bathroom to collect my clothes when Naomi grabbed my arm.

"Hold on."

She was still wearing her robe and she slowly loosened the sash that held it at her waist. Her movements were confident and controlled as she shrugged her shoulders allowing the gown to slide down her back to the floor.

The others seemed completely unfazed by this display of nakedness but I could do nothing but admire. Her pinched waist accentuated the curve of her hips but it was her breasts that got my attention.

They were beautifully rounded, neither too large nor too small, with nipples that looked like burnished copper disks. My tongue stirred in my mouth but my appreciation was cut short by a sudden ache between my legs.

My manhood was attempting to make its natural response only to be thwarted by the restraint. She saw my expression and immediately began to laugh.

"It clearly does everything it says on the tin."

I was still trying to come up with a smart comeback when Ellen gently tugged me by the arm. I turned towards the bathroom but she ushered me towards the adjacent door.

She opened it to reveal a large bedroom with beautifully fitted furniture suggestive of lavish expenditure. The bed itself was huge and I was envious of the large flat screen TV that was actually set into the opposite wall without a cable in site.

I assumed that I had earned my reward, and I waited for her to produce the key, but there was a look of devilment in her eyes.

"Seeing you like that is making me so fucking horny."

The expletive shocked but, at the same time, excited. It was so at odds with her cultured professional persona.

She began to undress. It was not an unveiling more an urgent need. Clothes were quickly strewn until she stood naked by the bed. For the moment she remained still and I had the feeling that she was challenging me to make a comparison with Naomi but she was in no way inferior.

Hers was a more athletic build but with an essential femininity. Her breasts were modest but her dark nipples, already distended, had an arrogant pout. Her legs were long with a discrete musculature that had me imagining them twined around my waist as she urged herself on.

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