The Reluctant Mistress

* * *

"Oh sweetie, welcome back. I'm so sorry for doing that..."

Cinder's eyes fluttered open to the sight of Sophia and her soft, conscientious features. She tried to move from the seat she was still in, tried to reply; she found she couldn't do either. Something dug into the flesh of her arms at the wrists where they were laid along the wooden chair's armrests, with something else constraining her ankles to sit tight against the chair's legs; tightly-buckled bands or belts. Something bulging and rounded prevented her mouth from closing, and pinned her tongue. She looked down at her body. She was... Naked? And bound at the wrists. But there was Sophia, right in front of her. She tried to cry out; the sound emerged as a muffled moan.

"Shhh, don't worry! Just relax. You need this," the worry on Fia's face would have been touching, had Lucinda not been stripped and tied to a chair in her lounge. Still, the smaller woman reached out a hand and gently stroked her captive neighbour's cheek, every bit the concerned friend. As surreal as the situation was, it clearly wasn't an act, "I know you've just been wilting away with that awful man! I want to help you, I want to make you feel good again, like you deserve."

Trying her best to struggle loose from the tight ties around her limbs and failing, Lucinda slumped back. She felt her body shivering from nervous shock, although even nude the room was still warm and cosy. Tears began to well in the corners of her eyes and fall, trailing down over her face as she whimpered behind her gag in defeat. It was only when the shorter woman stood that she realised Sophia had taken the time to change: a brief silk dressing gown, exposing lots of creamy-pale curvy leg and open enough to see a plunge into the shadow of her capacious cleavage. Looking suitably stricken and with a pouting, soulful expression on her pretty face, the girl knelt suddenly on the floor in front of her ensnared subject. With a smooth roll of her shoulders, she shrugged the dressing gown off to reveal sheer lingerie beneath, provocative and red. Then she bowed her head down almost to the floor, hands reaching for Lucinda's ankles.

The next thing Cinder felt, which sent a thrill of shock right through her, was the soft press of lips against the ball of her left ankle. She shook against the chair and her bonds. This whole situation was too fantastic, too inconceivable. It couldn't be happening.

Another kiss upon the meat of her lower calf woke her to the need to reconsider her fervent, blind assertion. When the third tender lip-smack impacted upon the side of her knee, she could no longer deny what was happening. Sophia was making her way upward with her lips, hands trailing along behind against the outsides of Lucinda's legs, and by the time the kisses began to track up along the inside of the restrained woman's thigh she realised with alarm exactly where they must inevitably end up. Something she'd only felt around a week ago and not before in recent memory began to rise once more within her, but in her panic she didn't notice. Sophia's head was between her legs now, coming in to the vulnerable crook of her thigh. Lucinda fell silent in dreadful amazement. Then, the head with its crown of beautiful chestnut curls moved back, and tilted to present that lovely, pale face to her with its luminous gaze. Lucinda exhaled heavily, trying to tell herself that what she felt now was relief.

"My darling, I can't begin to tell you how long I've been desperate to see you, all of you. You're so beautiful! Such a gorgeous body, these lovely long legs, such wonderfully smooth skin. I wish I could have your beautiful olive tan... You're husband's just a complete idiot, not treating you like the lady you are. Not loving you..."

The words only added to the swirl of stimuli and emotions filling Lucinda's poor, scattered mind. It felt as though the after-effects of whatever she'd drank were still lingering. She felt tired. She felt as if she might just surrender.

Then there were soft, moist lips against her skin again, picking up where they're left off. Much closer together now, the kisses only had a short distance to go. The first touch against her puffy mound was electric, instantly adding layers to the fog inside her head. Such considerate attention, such affection; more in seconds than she could ever recall receiving in her marriage. When the sensitive folds of her flesh were laid open by gently probing fingertips, as she blossomed before those astonishing lips and the quick, delicate strokes of a lithe tongue, all while lashed securely to the sturdy frame of the chair, Lucinda felt herself slipping out of her own mind. This whole thing was just too bizarre. Although tears still continued to trickle from the corners of her eyes, she felt a blush seeping into her cheeks.

The delightful torment continued for only a few short moments, enough for Sophia to have only the barest tantalising taste of her involuntary companion. Then, with evident regret, she backed away again with a sheen of feminine sap upon her lips. Carefully, she licked it off with the tip of her tongue. Lucinda moaned again, too uncertain of her own feelings to know exactly why. The petite brunette rose from her knees and stepped aside, Cinder's head tracking her with fearful fascination, reaching down to the coffee table and a couple of objects thereupon. The first was a strange, angular implement in what looked like a soft plastic material, a lopsided U-shape with strange bulges at either extremity and curiously textured portions along the inside of the curve; it was a satiny matte-black in colour. The other was a bottle with a pump-head, akin to a hand-soap bottle save for the glossy pearlescent colouring. As Sophia picked them up, her unwilling guest realised that the bottle contained lubricant, and that the longer prong of the other object had a definite phallic nature.

Sophia returned to crouch before her neighbour, resting an arm on Lucinda's thigh to steady herself. She offered up a brave little smile, always so expressive on her pretty face, which would have seemed incongruous if it hadn't been so curiously apropos. With small unhurried motions, she squirted a fat droplet of liquid onto the shorter tip of the toy, bulb-like in nature, smearing lubricant all over until it was nice and greasy. Then she held it forward toward Lucinda's crotch, as if it were an offering to a goddess. The girl actually hesitated, biting her lip before angling the bulb towards Cinder's intimate opening and pressing, carefully. With her other hand she made sure to spread the other woman's sultry valley as wide apart as could be to accommodate the intruder. It was thick, bulky and insistent. Still, it opened Cinder up and began to slide in with a gentle ease. She gasped into her gag as the thinner stem of the bulb reached her lower lips and it was practically sucked inside of her intimate chamber. A ribbed section of shaft rode up the centre of her mound to sit covetously over her clit; that was when the jutting prong of the phallus end of the toy stood to attention. Suddenly, its bizarre shape made sense.

Fia planted a soft smooch upon Cinder's belly, the muscles of which quivered with the nervous energy flooding through the securely-seated woman's system. Another squeeze of lube was enough to saturate the proud head of the silicone dick which now sprouted from Lucinda's abdomen, the Sophia rose once more. She slipped a pair of fingers inside her knickers and shimmied out of them while standing, before reaching back to unclasp her bra. Her heavy, voluptuous boobs sprang forth, dancing in Cinder's vision as the garment fell away. She laid her hands upon Cinder's shoulders, squeezing them a little as if trying to reassure the bound woman. Then she stepped forward to sit on Cinder's lap.

It took a little fiddling, one of Fia's hands leaving her restrained neighbour's shoulder for a moment to steady shaft as she lined it up toward herself, but then she was lowering, sighing, breasts rising and falling with hypnotic allure as they lowered down before Lucinda's nose. Then, Sophia simply sat there for long moments, gazing into Lucinda's widened, reddened eyes.

"Oh my darling, that feels so much better! You're so wonderful," it seemed as if tears were actually beading around those flawless emerald gems as the smaller woman leaned forward, pressing her bosoms against Lucinda's own, resting in her lap, covering her body with the naked warmth of her own before leaning in and nuzzling her face into the crook of Lucinda's neck, "I want to be yours, now. Not your Fia, though, something softer; I'm your Sophie. And you're my darling Lucy. I want you to have me..."

Wet lips again pressed against Lucinda's flesh, the straining skin of her neck shivering before the muscles beneath relaxed instinctively. The smooch was long, in no hurry to end as Sophia began to move her hips, rolling them forward. Every wave pushed the toy deep inside her; it also scraped the textured surface over Lucinda's sopping nethers and moved the bulb inside the darker-skinned woman, stimulating wantonly. The motions were slow, but they were firm. Lucinda squeezed the last of the moisture out of her eyes, screwed the lids closed as she endured the terrifying, wonderful sensations. Her compelling lover continued in a steady and decadent rhythm, wrapping her arms around Lucinda's shoulders and clasping herself close as she asserted her loving upon her partner. They scarcely made a sound as Sophia's hips undulated, filling them both with wet, steaming, liquid desire. It was a terrible ecstasy that filled Lucinda's loins and began to pulse outward through her body. Her moaning returned, and Sophia began to match it, but the despair was gone from the exclamation as they writhed together naked upon the chair.

Lucinda began to climax after a short while, orgasms bubbling up through her, and still it continued. Yet another experience Sophia had given her that she'd never experienced before, the progress was slow and languid but still molten and incendiary. She forgot where she was, almost forgot her own name, everything but the woman on her lap in whose arms she was cradled, whose hips were grinding against hers in such sublime harmony. The sparks from the ribs pressing into her sensitive folds competed with the contrast of the deep, fulfilling throbs radiating outward from the bulb buried within her. Her muscles tensed every few seconds as she was rocked by another crescendo. From the tightening of Sophia's arms around her, the soft gasps of breath on the side of her neck at regular intervals, the smaller woman was caught in blissful loops of her own. Still their coupling remained slow, steady and deliciously indulgent, as if it were a prize to be savoured. Faintly, with the scant remaining rational part of her brain, Lucinda realised that it was exactly that, for at least one of them.

Sophia's normally fair face had turned a deep, satisfied shade of pink by the time she pulled away, panting for a few heartbeats as she stared once more into Lucinda's eyes. Impulsively, the girl leaned in and did her best to kiss her companion upon the lips, separated as they were by the ball of the gag. Then, with much reluctance, she began to stand with the occasional wobble as she rose. The point where the head of the silicone cock finally exited her body was instantly detectable to Lucinda, without even needing to look. Sophia was a little unsteady on her feet as she considered her flushed and panting lover, so it took a few seconds before she felt confident in reaching out to begin the process of untying Lucinda's right wrist. Even when the strap tie fell away, Lucinda didn't move the arm; she wasn't even sure she could. The left wrist's liberation followed quickly, though both stayed rooted to the armrests as Sophia bent gingerly down to release her ankles. Lucinda remained still, petrified by that green-eyed gaze until with the last languid flourish the ballgag was unstrapped from behind her head. Sophia looked uncertain as she surveyed her motionless charge, anxious about what her neighbour might do next, and why she wasn't doing it already.

Once the curvy brunette had backed away a couple of steps, Lucinda began to rise. She felt stiff from the enforced immobility, and as unsteady as her partner from everything else she had just experienced. She stared blankly at the smaller woman in her pale nakedness, both of them silent, before casting her head dumbly around the room. She spotted a neat pile of clothing that looked like the outfit she'd been wearing when she arrived. Slowly, she padded across and lifted it; ignoring the complication of underwear she simply slipped her top on over her head before stepping into the jeans and hauling them up, quickly and abrupt. She turned her face toward Sophia once more, who stood back, not interfering. With an expression which was unreadable to her naked neighbour, she turned and darted for the front door. This time, Sophia didn't raise a word in protest.

* * *

Lucinda managed to get back home, somehow, and spent about three times longer than necessary under the shower, blinking back hot water and pretending that it was hiding her tears. She felt outrage and indignation, she felt taken advantage of, but mostly she didn't know how to feel. There was a languor to her limbs that had been there before the gently steaming shower took hold; as chaotic as her emotions were, it still felt as though a weight had been lifted from her spirit. And of course, from a purely physical perspective, it had just felt so good.

It was going to take more than a little thought to untangle, and she didn't exactly trust herself around alcohol right now. The thought of crawling into bed beside her snoring husband seemed as if it would be less a comfort and more an abhorrence, more so even than usual. In the end, she took an old blanket and plumped the cushions to curl up on the sofa, resigned to the prospect of adding a little more discomfort to her evening. Still, sleep reached out and claimed her quickly; sleep, and the lingering sensation of pale, lissom arms clinging tight around her. Of Sophie.

* * *

There was no message waiting for her in the morning. Relief and disappointment fought for her heart, complicated further by the knowledge that she could never have responded to one anyway. In fact, she heard nothing from her transgressive neighbour for the whole day, or the ones after. She was alone and adrift, her husband offering no solace as usual. The same feelings warred inside her as last time she'd separated herself from Sophia, only now the turmoil had a far greater intensity. In one unguarded moment, she found herself reaching into the drawer in her bedside cabinet where she'd hidden away the 'anniversary' photos for safekeeping; they were neatly stacked, arranged in the order she'd discovered them except with their handwritten note on the top. It saved her from having to catch sight of Sophia before regaining herself and hurriedly returning them to the drawer.

As the days went past a week with still no attempts at contact, she didn't know whether to feel freed or condemned. The idea of reaching out to her neighbour herself did not even slightly occur. Ultimately in her loneliness, she agreed to something she otherwise tried to avoid: accompanying her husband to one of his high-powered business dinners. The thought of it all made her itch from beneath her skin, as if her soul wanted out, but she swallowed her objections and began to ready herself, physically and psychologically, for the evening in question. Husband had warned her that a number of his high-flying colleagues and superiors would be attending, no doubt thrusting captains of industry to a man (presumably with glamorous plastic trophy-wives sprinkled about for decoration): she was under instruction to be on her best behaviour, to look her best and above all not to embarrass him. Out of dutiful practicality, she'd resolved pretty much to stay silent for the whole affair lest anything controversial slip out.

She wriggled into the slinky little black dress with the long, daring slit up one leg that she kept for such occasions, matching a pair of sheer stockings of the same colour. The one comfort she allowed herself was her shoes, tall stiletto heels with an elegant open toe, all criss-crossing straps of soft Italian suede leather; she'd loved them from the first sight. They also added a good few inches to her height, which might just discomfit some of the boys' club that night. All in all, she considered herself ready as she headed downstairs at last. Husband was waiting impatiently in the hallway. She just needed to head into the kitchen to make sure the back door was locked: it wasn't, so she secured it with a turn of the key; turning back around, she noticed something on the kitchen counter. A folded slip of paper.

Husband, of course, rarely came in here. He also wasn't in the habit of leaving her notes, or writing anything by hand if he could help it. Strange. The handwriting when she unfolded it was instantly familiar; the message was brief:

"I let myself in while you were getting ready. Come to the bedroom."

It gave Lucinda quite a start. She'd been dealing with makeup and grooming in the bathroom, carefully studying the results in the mirror, just down the hall from her bedroom. It had taken her quite a few minutes to be sure, but she had had no inkling of anyone else being up there. Sophia must have taken great care in sneaking in...

"I just need a couple more minutes, there's something I've got to do upstairs!"

She didn't wait for her husband's indignant reply, her pulse already rising along with her steps as she hurried up the stairs. The bedroom door was ajar when she reached the landing, a soft light coming from inside as if one or other bedside lamps were on. With every step closer, her heart climbed higher in her throat, bringing back momentary memories of a gag. Possibly in sympathy with the thought or perhaps just to stifle any unintended outcry, one hand rose to mask her mouth as the other pushed the door further open. She needn't have worried about making any noise: the sight waiting for her stripped words clean away.

A pale figure lay on her marital bed in the cosy half-illumination from both lamps. She was just as curvaceous and smooth as ever, the limbs of her petite body in perfect proportion, her head surrounded by a cherubic bob of glossy brown curls. Her arms were stretched up over the pillows, held at the far end of the bed by a familiar chain looped around one of the metal bars of the head frame, linking two pink fluff-banded wrists. She was clothed if it could even be so-described in fine baby-pink lingerie: an open-cupped shelf bra that was little more than a curving platform keeping that abundant bosom nice and piled-up, round and perky; and the most delicate strands of a pair of crotchless thong knickers, straining down around either side of her plump Venereal valley. There was a small patch of fluffy down, carefully sculpted and matching the colour of the rest of her hair, trapped beneath the sheer material of the thong just below the pit of her belly.

The girl's unrestrained legs were spread wide open, lewdly so. A pair of items rested between them on the duvet, possibly for lack of a handy coffee table. A ball-gag parted her lips, perhaps the same one, a glossy red; a black blindfold like a sleeping mask mated to a sensual silken sash was wrapped around her head, hiding those astonishing eyes. Nestled in at her throat was a dark velvet choker, embellished with a silver embroidery of italic script, spelling out a single word: 'YOURS'. Lucinda had to hang on to the doorframe with a hand in order to steady herself, as the floor at the bedroom's threshold became suddenly precipitous.