Playing with Fire Pt. 03

Shortly after I had stepped into the matching Louboutin shoes, with their sky-high heels, Angela emerged from the bathroom. She looked every bit the boss, her yellow silk pant ensemble being the perfect balance between femininity and a power-suit. The perfectly tailored pants hugged her lower body like a second skin, showcasing her tight, toned ass, and highlighting the fact that she had eschewed wearing underwear. The suit jacket, with its broad, padded shoulders, made her look physically imposing, and designated her as the obvious dominant in this fledgling relationship.

As she approached me she told me to turn away from her, and after closing the last couple of inches of the zipper of my dress, she tied a yellow silk ribbon in my hair, which instantly made me look more girly. I was breathing hard now, flattered that she had gone to such lengths to provide me with a beautiful outfit, and shocked that I was passively allowing her to accessorize me, as if I was her fuck-toy.

"I left something on the bathroom counter for you," she said gently. "You can put it on after room-service leaves, if that makes you more comfortable."

She had definitely piqued my interest and I walked towards the bathroom to see what it was. As I approached the mirrors above the countertop, I was aware of how feminine I looked. I glanced over my shoulder at my reflection, and saw the straps of my garter-belt visible under my silk dress. If I hadn't borne the obvious marks of rough sex, I would have loved to have gone to dinner on Angela's arm, telegraphing to all of the restaurant diners that I was her bitch.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the yellow silk choker on the bathroom countertop. It was so feminine, the simplicity of the beautifully constructed silk accessory contrasting with the steel plaque that was affixed to the front of it. Angela had placed it in the corner, leaned against the mirror so that the inscription was visible. She had given me the option to wear it later, after the hotel wait-staff had delivered our food. However, having decided earlier to submit to this woman, I reached for it and fastened it around my neck.

I slowly raised my eyes to the mirror to take in my reflection, and immediately averted them at the shock of voluntarily accepting her collar with the inscription "Toy" clearly visible on the front. Moments later, when there was a knock on the door, and someone announced "room service," I wanted to take her collar off, but Angela got me moving with her next instruction.

"Answer that, Debbie."

It was an excruciatingly embarrassing couple of minutes for me as the two guys brought in the food, set it all up on our dining table, and waited patiently for Angela to retrieve their tip.

"My purse is in the other room," she told them. "Please just give me a second."

A second turned into at least two minutes, and as Angela kept us informed of her progress as she searched for her purse, the two young men checked me out. To their credit, they were subtle, but I know as their eyes roamed over my badly bruised body, they were forming their own opinions about the relationship between Angela and I. Dressed as we were in identical shades of yellow, with me in a very feminine, coquettish almost, skimpy dress, and her in a tailored power-suit, there was no doubt as to the dynamic between us.

"Toy, come here," Angela said commandingly, from the doorway of the bedroom.

My heart skipped a beat when she addressed me by that humiliating moniker. Most of my battle-wounds were visible in this dress, and Angela's tone as she had ordered me to answer the door, and now as she beckoned me into the bedroom to fetch the guys their tip, left no doubt as to who the dominant party was in this relationship.

As I scurried across the living room floor towards Angela, my silk dress clung to my curves, and I knew that the guys were being treated to the visual of my garter-belt straps, as they peaked out from beneath the hem of the short dress. Angela grabbed a twenty dollar bill, which was an exceptionally generous tip, folded it in half lengthwise, and to my horror, stuck it between my tits.

"Go give the guys their tip, Toy," she said condescendingly, as she gave me a firm slap on the ass.

My face reddened as I walked back towards the guys. I couldn't make eye-contact with them, as I leaned forward to present them their tip. One of them reached into the top of my dress to grab the end of the twenty dollar bill.

I had lowered my gaze as I approached them, inadvertently fixating on one of the guy's pants, as his erection formed in the front of them. I am sure he would have denied it, had we complained to the management, but this young man was getting off on my domination.

"Thank you, Miss," the young guy said gratefully, as he took the twenty dollars from between my tits.

"Toy," Angela repeated, "her name is Toy."

The man cleared his throat, looked directly at the inscription on my choker to make sure he had heard Angela correctly, and then thanked me again.

"Thank you, Toy. We appreciate it."

After they left, Angela and I had a laugh about our role-playing and reverted back to our normal friendship, as we enjoyed a lovely dinner. The conversation flowed freely, stopping only when the subject of Chad came up. She mentioned him twice, and both times as I stood on the precipice of doing the right thing and letting Angela know the truth, I chickened out and changed the subject.

I should have told her. She deserved to know. I had enjoyed a consensual sexual encounter with her brother, followed by a second encounter that had turned a little rough, but was nonetheless consensual, for the most part. She needed to know this before we made love. It was wrong for me to play them both, without letting them know about each other. They were brother and sister, for fuck's sake, regardless of the violent nature of my last encounter with Chad.

However, even though she asked me one more time if I had seen her brother, I lied. After we ate, I needed to brush my teeth, and when I returned to the bedroom, Angela was in the process of securing four silk scarves to the wood posts of our oversized bed.

"Strip," she ordered as she tugged on the last scarf, to make sure it was secured correctly.

I swallowed hard as I processed her directive. We were about to make love, and apparently for her, that would entail me being tied up.

I was shaking like a leaf as I disrobed, especially as Angela completely ignored me. Once I was naked, she motioned for me to climb onto the bed, and I complied obediently. Prior to meeting this captivating woman, I would have had some serious reservations about being tied up. However, truth was, I would have done just about anything this woman had asked me, such was my infatuation with her.

When I was finally lying on my back on the bed, she began to tie my hands and feet to the bed posts.

"Soft," I remarked as the silk scarves were wrapped around my hands and feet.

"Hermès," she replied seductively, "nothing but the best for you."

My mind was preoccupied with erotic thoughts of her, rather than any concerns about the vulnerability of my position. However, after I was secured, I became aware that my legs were spread-eagled, splayed open for her review, and I was glad that I had taken the time to have a Brazilian wax treatment. Angela tugged on my binds to check that they were secure, and then picked up her phone and texted someone. A few moments later, the door to our hotel room opened, and to my horror, Chad strolled in, like he owned the place.

"Did you really think you could fuck us both, without us telling each other?" he asked angrily, his rage back on display.

"You knew?" I asked Angela fearfully.

"Of course," she replied, "we are brother and sister, we tell each other everything. You are going to regret trying to play us."