Emily's Story

*

She obtained some lucrative assignments from her old contacts which she completed in frantic haste to bring in the money, but it was never going to be enough. John was deteriorating and the cost of his medication was spiraling. He would soon need additional therapy which was unaffordable on her income.

She received a text from Rob requesting a meeting -- the first since that fateful night. Emily was reluctant to meet her nemesis face to face in conversation again. To engage with him -- the unmentionable -- the source of her pleasure and pain -- the facilitator of her new addiction -- would be too traumatic.

When he came to the sitting room, she wore dark glasses to protect her eyes from his predatory gaze and she told him to sit in the armchair as far from her as she could get.

Emily coldly challenged him:

"Well bastard -- what do you want -- just tell me and then fuck off!!"

Rob adopted his usual conciliatory manner:

"Em, we can't go on like this. We're going to run out of money -- it's just not working -- your journalism -- it's not enough. C'mon Em you know it."

Emily could feel the tears but held firm as Rob continued:

"Look Em -- what else can you offer to bring in the dosh -- I know, and I think you know!

You're a good-looking woman with a great body which men would go crazy for."

Emily felt bile rise in her tummy as Rob continued:

"You also know how to use it and that's down to me babe."

The bitter taste in Emily's mouth was nauseating.

"I know some people yeah -- just wake up Em -- look - I know some people who could help. Tons of money can be made if you have the contacts -- you could cover all of John's costs, keep the house and make more besides AND enjoy yourself at the same time!"

Emily rushed out to the loo.

Having sicked up her stomach, it became clear to her in that single moment of calm amid the madness. She had fucked Rob -- did it make any real difference if she now fucked other men -- she had lost her innocence for John's sake -- sex was now a transaction rather than an act of love. This clarity enabled her to view her situation objectively -- yes -- she could give her body to others for the love of her husband.

Once the decision was made and Rob had contacted her potential employer, she could not stop shivering as she lay in bed after their nightly fuck session.

As she tossed and turned in her torment, a strange and disturbing feeling came over her as if someone was whispering in her ear - conjuring up subversive, shameful and dreadfully seductive fantasies -- tempting her with the buzz of erotic excitement, the anticipation of sensual and sexual novelty and the rush of orgasmic release. She tried hard to dispel the evil little Imp, as she later called the whisperer, but her fevered dreams betrayed her. She woke in the night, hot and flustered, unable to settle -- what awaited her -- the thrill of the unknown -- the beginning of a remarkable journey?

******

Chapter 3 -- Interview

Emily and Paul took a cab from the railway station. The cocktail lounge was only three streets away but the rain was drizzling and she was unsteady on her heels -- they were high -- very high. This was her first meeting with Christopher and Helen and she was nervous -- stomach churningly shaky nervous.

The past twenty-four hours seemed like a dream - it was so easy. After a bottle of Chardonnay, she had gathered sufficient courage to contact the specialist "House" chosen for her by Rob. Helen was well spoken and reassuring, and Christopher appeared to be kind and businesslike; and yes, having heard her story, they would love to meet up on neutral ground to discuss her requirements and understand her situation. They -- all three -- could then decide if they wished to develop a relationship which might be mutually beneficial.

Helen had suggested that Emily glam up for their first meeting to enable them to assess her suitability. Emily was resistant, but Rob reminded her of her commitment to the "Project" as he was now calling her erotic journey with the "House" and, after some hard tears, she submitted. He chose the black sheer tights with black strap heels and the black satin strapless dress she had bought months ago to please John. It flared out stylishly from a fitted band beneath her breasts and terminated in a hem high on her thighs. The dress was daring, highlighting her lush boobs, slim waist and gorgeous legs but she was nervous. She recognised the need to impress but with her innate caution and shyness she could not relax.

With her freshly cut and coloured bob and heavy make-up, the face staring back at her from the bathroom mirror was unrecognisable. Her disguise was complete and this was a relief. In any case she would wear a long raincoat for the journey to protect her from any undesirable attention.

Paul kindly offered to reconnoiter the rendezvous in advance, and he discovered an all-night café close by where he would sit and wait. It was reassuring having him along, and Emily was grateful although he had no idea of her purpose -- she invented a story about a job interview.

As she entered the cocktail lounge she spotted Helen and Christopher sitting in two armchairs facing an empty sofa sipping large glasses of red wine. A third full glass for her was sitting on the low table before the sofa. The lounge was plush, furnished with high taste and with low cosy lights -- modern with a traditional look. Most tables were occupied with groups of smartly dressed men and women -- she might not stand out and this calmed her.

Helen was wearing an elegant red lace knee length dress -- fitted to highlight her hourglass figure. She was blond with long curly hair and a mischievous smile -- middle aged -- just like Emily. Christopher was older -- well built, greying, hair swept back and slickly styled, features angular and severe, smart in a tailored grey suit and open neck white shirt.

They both stood to welcome her, and Christopher offered to take her raincoat. This was the moment, and Emily flushed as she was exposed for the first time. Helen with a twinkle in her eye gestured to the sofa and Emily sat facing her and Christopher. She automatically kept her legs together as a good girl should, but with the sofa being lower than the armchairs, it was impossible to fully protect herself; and, as she leaned forward to collect her wine glass, her chest automatically dipped exposing the black sheer of her strapless bra and her soft creamy breasts to their appraising eyes. She saw a snatched look between them which spoke volumes.

They made small talk, learning superficially about each other before Emily was obliged to give some general background to her previous relationships and experience. This was awkward and Christopher and Helen exchanged another knowing look.

Christopher stepped in:

"Emily, first can I say you are a lovely woman, and we are very pleased you contacted us. We believe you may suit us and, I'm sure, we can help you.

We always find, at this first meeting, that our partners often have difficulty in articulating their feelings so we will prompt you with questions.

Ok -- to begin:

Tell us about your first time -- how was it for you."

Emily gasped and looked around for anyone who could overhear but all the tables were humming with conversation. A discussion on this subject was out of her experience, but she would attempt to be honest. Women were not brought-up to talk so candidly about their sexual experience, but she suspected that Rob had briefed them before the meeting:

"My first boyfriend was Paul - he was also a virgin, so we progressed together -- it was not easy for either of us -- we were inexperienced, so we were unsure and unconfident, but he was kind and gentle and we still meet up - as friends but not as lovers."

Christopher interrupted with deliberate crudity to shock Emily into revealing more:

"Did you lick his prick?"

Emily swallowed:

"Yes, I tried -- but he didn't respond."

Christopher countered:

"So, was it your technique? Did you attempt to improve?"

Emily blushed and looked away:

"No -- I gave up and we generally went straight to sex."

Christopher made his point:

"If you mean fucking, then say it."

Emily felt tears welling up and stared into her glass.

She whispered under her breath as her face flushed hot:

"Yes -- "fucking"."

The word felt so dirty in the context of the formality between them in those plush surroundings, and she tremored.

Christopher picked up the narrative:

"Good -- we are making progress -- who was next and how was it?"

Emily regained her composure:

"My husband John and it was loving..."

Christopher interrupted:

"Loving but not lustful?"

Emily continued:

"Only towards the end. Then it excited me -- after Rob..."

Helen passed her a tissue and there was a short pause.

Emily took a nervous sip of wine, and her hands were shaking as she hesitantly began to explore her passion and her guilt:

"Once I was blindfolded it all changed -- the danger and uncertainty were wonderful -- my vulnerability seemed to feed my ... and behind the mask I could live my own fantasy. He was also .... He -- my partner -- that was Rob..."

She swallowed nervously and took a deeper draught of wine to steady herself.

Her head was spinning.

"He ... Rob was large -- much bigger than I had ever experienced. He was energetic and forceful, and I reacted to that -- I felt I had no option -- there was no escape -- I just let go completely and gave myself over to..."

Christopher prompted:

"Sin?"

Emily nodded:

"Submitting to him energised me -- I was free -- I wanted it all and more."

Helen joined in:

"What's "All and More."?"

Emily's resistance was broken - the need to share overwhelmed her.

She lowered her voice. The little Imp was whispering in her ear again:

"I wanted it in my bedroom, in my kitchen, in my garden, anywhere!! I wanted him in my mouth, in my sex, in my bum, between my breasts. I wanted to be watched -- watched as I did wrong. I wanted to be... I wanted to be a sl... -- it turned me on. I wanted to be punished for my sin, but I knew it would only encourage me to go further... "

Emily took a deep breath and bowed her head in self-loathing -- the emotion was too much, and people in the lounge began to clock this beautiful woman as she became increasingly agitated:

"Oh My G... what am I saying -- why am I behaving like this?"

Helen offered a consoling hand, but Christopher maintained the pressure to test her:

"But your craving was too powerful -- you could not satisfy your newfound hunger, and the addiction consumed you with guilt -- women were not meant to behave in this way and while you were being torn apart by your emotions your husband was an invalid, demanding your undivided attention. You were disgusted but at the same time aroused -- could I really experience this intensity without destroying myself?"

Emily shed tears of shame and Helen offered her another tissue. How could he read her so well?

Christopher forced her further down into the pit:

"With Rob it was hate rather than love, but you still wanted to cast yourself adrift -- to dispense with duty and responsibility and restraint -- to explore the deeper -- the different colours of life and experience -- the intimacy of a re-set in your relationship with others both male and female and all those in-between."

Christopher paused for a reaction -- the atmosphere between them was electric.

Emily nodded her head with her eyes lowered and she continued to dab away the tears. The self-disgust was too much.

"We can offer you the chance to explore those endless opportunities for joy, pain, ecstasy, gratification, and fulfilment. There is only one question you need to ask yourself Emily - can you accept the challenge, or will you return to the ordinary and the humdrum -- the choice is yours?"

Emily looked away - the dilemma was consuming her. She could feel the flames on her body and the fire in her stomach.

After a long pause, she murmured under her breath:

"Yes -- yes I want to -- yes -- I want to accept the challenge."

Christopher sat back in triumph and gestured to Helen who took Emily's hands in hers:

"Emily, before you formally join us I should just re-state our rules to confirm your understanding. We guide you deeper one step at a time -- we call them "chapters" -- just like a book. Once you commit to a chapter you have no choice but to complete it, no matter what we ask of you. This is compulsory and, in any case, you will have no other option. This introduces risk, uncertainty and excitement. Are you OK with that?"

Emily took a deep breath and looked skywards. She could feel her nipples tingle and grow, and her cunt dilate. She would effectively be a captive -- Rob had told her there would be no safe word to call a pause and no escape. This is what she wanted -- to have no free will -- just as she was with Rob.

Helen continued:

"We understand you wish to be challenged no matter the cost -- yes?"

Emily looked directly at Helen and nodded before lowering her eyes in a delightfully inappropriate innocent submission.

Helen was relieved:

"Good - but you know we will be investing much time and money in you, and we need to be sure you will not let us down. You are not coming cheap -- your renumeration, as Rob told you, will be set in our premium grade so we have an introductory test for you this evening -- are you ready?"

Emily began to tremble with uncertainty. Rob had persuaded her to commit to Christopher and Helen's "Extreme" program for the money's sake, but the reality terrified her.

Helen smiled and unexpectedly switched from cosy friend to instructor and disciplinarian as she set out the first challenge:

"You will finish your glass of wine and excuse yourself to the loo. You will find a cubicle and lock the door. First you will slip off your heels, and then you will remove your dress, your bra, your tights and your panties."

Emily gulped hard and stared open mouthed at Helen.

"You will do what you have to do before slipping on your dress and your heels again and placing your tights, bra and panties in your handbag. You will return to us and open your bag to prove you have dared to go nude beneath your dress. Do you understand!"

Emily was dumbstruck.

Helen re-stated her point with quiet menace.

"Emily -- DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!"

Emily nodded and with trembling fingers drained her glass to the dregs.

Christopher firmly interjected:

"Yes Emily -- that's a good girl -- well done! Now off you go."

Their sudden authority banished any thoughts of refusal and Emily rose from the sofa a little unsteadily on her heels as her head swam in anxiety and panic. Before leaving she remembered to grab her handbag.

In later years she would always recall this moment - looking towards the exit and contemplating making a run for it - but something held her back. The irresistible force of Christopher and Helen and her own unrequited passions irresistibly led her to the rear of the cocktail lounge and on to the restroom. She found a large cubicle and sat on the seat cover.

Taking a deep breath -- she was now a little giddy -- she slipped off her heels and stood in her bare stockinged feet to carefully remove her dress and hang it on a hook in the corner to keep it off the floor. With trembling fingers she fumbled with her bra and ripped off her tights, shredding them with her nails. In a few seconds she stood naked in the protective cocoon of the cubicle listening to chattering women washing their hands and fixing their make-up.

Slipping on her dress again the satin felt cool on her overheated flesh and, as she sat again to put on her heels, her forearm swept across her nipples under the satin, firming them to a delicious sensitivity. She felt her tummy warm and her first tremor of the evening. Gazing down at her breasts below their flimsy protection, her nips were rigid and shockingly proud in profile under the taut material. It would be obvious to all she was braless -- disguise was impossible - her tits were too heavy.

She rose and with a sigh, steadied herself and stuffed her panties, bra and tights deep into her handbag as instructed, and lifted the latch.

She immediately attracted attention with her short skirt, long bare legs and high black strap heels. The women smiled at her -- she was too embarrassed to respond. The gossamer touch of the satin as it flared below the band supporting her boobs seemed to caress her and she knew the slightest movement would show it all below her indecently high hemline.

As she leant forward across the basin to use the mirror to repair her lipstick, she saw in the reflection two women behind her lower their eyes to her backside and smile at each-other with an eyeroll. She was always self-conscious regarding her prolific bush, and, with horror, she assumed it was peeking out below her bum under her disgracefully high hem. She tremored again, quickly packed away her make-up and hurried to the door.

As she walked out, she felt everybody was looking at her. Her lush cream naked legs extended by the strap heels, and the sway of her unsupported "fuck me" breasts, barely covered by their translucent covering of satin, were so provocatively out of place in that chic environment that she attracted much attention. As she made her way across the busy lounge to the safety of the sofa and Helen and Christopher, she kept her eyes to the floor in her embarrassment.

Attempting to sit under Cristopher and Helen's gaze, while struggling to protect her modesty, proved a challenge but once she was down, she clamped her legs tight together and surprisingly tremored again as she felt her labia, newly moist and distended, deliciously compressed between her thighs.

What was happening to her? She was terrifyingly uncomfortable in her vulnerability and would have escaped given any opportunity, but her body was betraying her -- her protruding nips were tingling, and her cunt was alive.

Helen smiled:

"Now Emily -- give me your bag."

Emily handed it over and Helen found the crumpled bra, the pantie briefs and the torn tights and placed them deliberately in the open on the table next to Emily's fresh filled wineglass. A distraught Emily looked around for anybody who could see her disgrace but only two guys on the next table were smirking in her direction. Tears of shame and humiliation began but Helen did not let up:

"Can you see the trash bin by the bar. I want you to pick these up and take them over to the bin and put them in it. On your way, deliberately drop your panties to the floor in front of your new friends and show your bum as you stoop to rescue them -- you understand Emily don't you-- yes -- I knew you would?"

Emily was so intoxicated and confused. She wanted to say "no this is too much" but something unfathomable was driving her on and without a murmur she obeyed.

As Emily rose with her burden there was a low whispering murmur from the surrounding tables and many eyes followed her. When she crouched on her bare haunches to retrieve her panties from the carpet, she could feel the hem of her dress drift above her upper thighs and she knew her lower bum and the strands of her lush bush, freshly damp with her juices, would be visible to a select few at the adjacent table. The tears began to flow again in her distress, and she quickly rose, half ran to the bin, deposited her underwear, and rushed back to the sofa. Suddenly the lounge was full of noise with piercing looks of contempt and pity lasering into her and stinging her with their delicious disgust.

Helen offered her a white silk handkerchief:

"There's a good slut -- your first lesson - wipe your eyes and blow your nose."