Serendipity 11: Lauren Comes Home

"I started to answer and found that I couldn't get out a word, that my throat was completely dry. She answered for me, 'I think you find it very exciting, yes?'

"Annabella moved behind me and began whispering into my ear. 'That girl, men and women doing whatever they want with her and to her.' She reached up with one hand and began to massage my breast, then began playing with my nipple. 'You know, she could stop anytime she wants....'

"She moved her other hand to my waist, then down to my belly and began massaging there.

"',,,but she doesn't want to. She loves everything they are doing to her.' Then she moved her hand down and squeezed my pussy through my skirt, while she squeezed and pinched my nipple with the hand that was on my breast.

"Then, abruptly, she said, 'I think you have seen enough for your first night. We'll go home now.'

"We took a taxi to her apartment, where she poured me another drink. Then, simply, she began undressing me. I can't recall all the things she did to me -- or that I did to her -- that night, but it was intense. I went back to my hotel on my own the next morning and took a long, hot bath to soothe the many places where I hurt. But I remember the last thing she said to me -- 'You'll want to go again next week, yes?' But not as a question.

"I tried to put the whole night out of my mind for the rest of the weekend, but as the week went on, I knew that if Annabella asked me to go again, my answer would be 'Yes.'

"When I arrived at her apartment, our greeting was surprisingly ordinary, considering. Again, she poured a drink for each of us, and we enjoyed that and we talked. But just before we were to go out the door, she said, 'I think you will enjoy yourself more if you leave your panties and brassiere here.' I had decided not to wear a bra that evening, but I lifted my skirt, and Annabella peeled down my panties and just tossed them on a chair.

"The evening went much like the first one -- the exposed hostesses servicing the whims of the members, the open groping and sucking, the girl -- this time, a bleached blond with a punk haircut -- being led in on a leash by the elegantly-attired woman. One difference this time was that there was a lot of attention to fastening various kinds of clamps -- from artistically-designed sex toys to electrical 'alligator' clips to plain, ordinary wooden clothes pins -- to various parts of the girl's body -- nipples, entire breasts, belly, pussy lips, thighs, even fingers and toes.

"What was really different about tonight was Annabella. Almost from the time we got there and got our first drinks, she kissed me -- and I kissed back -- and often put her hands inside my blouse to play with my tits and her hand under my skirt to fondle my pussy and massage my clit and put multiple fingers inside of me, and I returned the attentions. Occasionally she would whisper in my ear, 'You envy her, don't you? You wish it is you that everyone is touching.'

"I don't know if that was true, but her words excited me tremendously, and I felt my juices running down my thighs. And I was not fooling Annabella, because she felt them when she fondled me and tasted my juices and made sure that I tasted them. 'Maybe you should start out slowly, like being one of the hostess girls, with your tits and pussy exposed for them to admire and touch.' And I thought, 'Yes -- I could do that ...'

"We went back to her apartment. This time, I was prepared to stay the entire weekend, but she kicked me out the following noon, saying that she had friends coming over and that 'You are not ready for them yet.'

"Well, the next night -- it was to be Saturday, this week -- couldn't come quickly enough. Of course, I didn't wear any underwear. This time, we had our usual drink, and as we were just about to leave, she said, 'One more thing. I want you to wear this,' and took a very wide red leather belt and put it around my waste. Then we left.

"When we arrived, before we got our drinks, I learned the reason for the belt. She lifted my skirt and tucked the hem around and under the belt, leaving my pussy and belly totally exposed and my ass more 'accessible.' She also unbuttoned my blouse and tied the tails together behind my back, leaving my breasts completely exposed.

"'There − now you are ready.'

"And so I spent that third night with my pussy and tits exposed, open, and available to anyone and everyone, and a lot of men and women took advantage of this. They must have known that I was a 'novice,' because most of the time I just got fondled or massaged. But some were more aggressive. They squeezed my breasts roughly and pinched and twisted my nipples and shoved multiple fingers up my pussy. One woman even got two of her fingers into my asshole and worked them around. I found myself pushing back against her fingers and hoping she'd do more. I wondered if I'd like things to go farther, like dropping to my knees and sucking an exposed cock or eating a pussy that was shoved in my face, but I left those thoughts.

"The 'main entertainment' was much like the previous two nights. There was one thing that was new. Someone -- a woman -- appeared with what looked like a flashlight, but with two stubby prongs at one end. They touched the end with the prongs to her belly, and there was a sound, like 'zzzt,' and the girl's body lurched up. A woman whispered to the girl, and she said something back. The woman moved the thing to one of the girl's breasts. Another 'zzzt,' and the girl lurched again and cried out. But the woman did it again, this time right on one of the nipple rings, and the girl shrieked even louder. The woman gave her a chance to recover and then whispered something to the girl again, and the girl seemed to nod. The woman moved down the girl's body, and I immediately knew what was coming. The woman touched the thing to the girl's pussy and held it there for several seconds. The girl when rigid and let out with a deep, guttural groan, before collapsing in what looked like exhaustion. That appeared to be the signal for people to begin groping her pussy with as many fingers as they could. Annabella later informed me that the flashlight-like device was called pungiglione -- she was not sure what the English word would be

"That night, Annabella scarcely touched me, leaving me for the other members. At one point, however, she grabbed me by the neck and by the pussy, pulled me to her, kissed me fiercely, and said, 'I love seeing you like this, whore! Now everyone can see your need.'

"When we got back to her apartment, there was a man waiting for us. 'This is Dmitri. He will be spending the night with us.'

"To make a long story short, Annabella and Dmitri used me very roughly that night, then Dmitri and I used Annabella roughly. I guess I was so exhausted that at some point I collapsed on her couch. I woke up about noon and wandered toward the bedroom and saw Dmitri stretched out, his arms tied to the headboard, and a number of clamps and clothes pins on his nipples, chest, arms, thighs, balls, and cock, and Annabella standing over him holding one of those pungiglione things (later I found out that these are known as 'stingers' in the U.S.).

"I decided to get the hell out of there before I fell down that rabbit hole. But I spent the rest of the weekend trying to figure out where this was going, and did I want to go where it looked like it was going, and was I the kind of person who would want to go there? And I knew that if Anabella asked me to go the next week that I would say yes.

"I almost cried with relief when I went in to the office and learned that the investigation had been terminated and that I would be going home in three days.

"But my last day, as I was saying goodbye to everyone -- who had been really nice to me during my stay and who I'd miss -- Annabella caught me alone and asked, 'Will you be coming back?'

"I had thought about that, and I had my answer ready: 'If I do, I might be with a man.'

"She paused for a moment, then said, 'If you do, he will be welcome, but he'll have to prove himself,' with no further explanation.

"And that's how I ended up here, telling you about this."

Jane and Georgia sat there, seemingly waiting to see if I was done, or if there was something more I wanted to add. I think they both noticed that I was shaken from recounting all this.

Jane came over and silently hugged me, and she rocked me and she kissed my forehead, and rocked me some more.

Then my grandmother -- at this moment, I needed a grandmother -- came and hugged me, and then said, "But there's something else, isn't there, Sweetheart?"

I don't know how she knew, but she was right. She went on, "You can tell me, and I think that Jane is ready to hear, too."

I nodded in acknowledgement, and then, with a knot in the pit in my stomach, I said what I really needed to say, the real reason I had to tell this entire story.

"What I don't know is -- I think I wanted to do that, to experience what those women did. To be one of the hostesses, even maybe be the girl in the sling, just there for anyone to do anything they wanted to me. And I want to know what's wrong with me. I have my wonderful dad, and you, and Matthew -- what's wrong with me that I would even consider something like that?" And, despite my efforts to control myself, I started crying.

Jane and Georgia wisely let me to cry myself out. Then Georgia said, "Sweetheart, you might not know this, but I know a bit about obsessions and about desperately craving something that you know might be dangerous for you. We all love you, Sweetheart, and we'll work this out."

********

I expected -- asked -- Jane and Georgia to tell Matthew and my dad what it was that had been wrong with me since I got back from Italy.

I desperately wanted to tell Matthew about what happened. But I knew that first, I needed to explain things to my dad.

When I went to him and told him I was ready to answer any questions he had or tell him anything he wanted to know, he did exactly what I hoped, and knew, he would do:

"Honey, tell me whatever you want to tell me, whenever you're ready to tell it." Then, he wrapped his arms -- the arms that have comforted me and protected me since the day I was born -- around me, and I wept into his chest.

Matthew was another story.

With Dad, he's my father, and I am first, foremost, and always, his little girl. With Matthew ... it's complicated.

I went into Matthew's and Jane's room -- Janey had made herself scarce -- and asked, "Should I close the door?"

"Whatever you're most comfortable with." I closed the door.

He sat on the edge of the bed. I sat in the comfy chair. I didn't know how to begin talking to Matthew. I finally asked, "How much did Jane tell you?"

He thought a moment, then chose his words carefully. "She described what happened in enough detail that I know that some things happened, and you did some things, and they've left you kind of confused about yourself. Is that about right?"

"Close enough, I guess."

"I can't begin to know what you are feeling, or what you think about what you're feeling. But if there's any damage, we'll all work, until it's all fixed."

And with that, he took me in his arms and just held me. And then, without knowing it, he made the absolutely most perfect response: he started to get hard. I felt such a rush of relief. I fell to my knees, jerked open his belt and pulled down his khakis, and took him into my mouth, as far as I could, and I held him there. I wouldn't let him move -- I just held him as deep in my mouth as I could possibly manage. Then I pulled myself away, stood up, yanked down my jeans, fell back onto the bed, and pulled him onto me and into me.

And that way, both Matthew and I knew that things would work out OK, somehow.