The Salon Ch. 01

Claire stared out over the sparkling blue water of the bay, closed her mouth and tried to look less shocked. She tried to get her head around what Bec had just said. Across from her, Bec was grinning.

"Claire, this is 2012. Orgasms are mainstream now."

She flinched just a little. Not because she was conservative, but in part because the word did seem a little foreign these days and in part because the outdoor area of the restaurant was doing a brisk lunchtime trade. Still, what Bec described had stirred undoubted curiosity in her.

"Let me ask you," Bec said in quieter tones, "when did you last reach an orgasm with a partner?"

The question, they both knew, was a rhetorical one. It was also embarrassing when you had to measure time in terms of seasons.

Bec went on. "How about the last time you lit some candles, did some deep breathing and really relaxed into some 'special' you time?"

Claire thought about it. She'd been away at conference two months ago and she'd stayed a few extra days. That had been so lovely; reading, relaxing, and a little 'me time'.

"So apart from the occasional fumble before bed, it's been months since you had a proper, fulfilling orgasm?" At least Bec had the decency to look sympathetic. She slid a business card across the table.

"Promise me you'll at least look into it."

Nodding, Claire looked at the card. The Salon...

*****

Claire cautiously entered the reception area and marvelled at the view through the floor to ceiling windows. She was eighteen floors up in a space that looked like just about every anonymous office space she'd ever entered. She announced herself to the receptionist, who smiled politely.

"Take a seat Claire, one of our consultants will be with you in a moment."

She began to wonder if she had heard her friend correctly, and if this really was the kind of place she thought it was. It all looked so clean, so professional, so... normal. She had only flicked through a few pages of a magazine when a pretty girl dressed in business attire ushered her into an office. Sitting down in the chair proffered, she took in the unassuming room and the casual ease of the woman seated with her legs neatly crossed before her. She introduced herself.

"My name is Rachel, welcome to the Salon. I'm here to take you through the introduction to our business, answer any questions you have and get you started on your journey. Whatever you might have heard or may think about what we do here, let me assure you, this is a professional organisation committed to the highest levels of customer service."

Again Claire wondered if she was in the right place, or if she was being asked to invest in something. But she nodded and let Rachel continue.

"Consider us a day spa that is more intimate in nature. Our mission statement is fairly simple. We assist our clients to feel good. To start, we gather as much information about you as we can. From there we tailor our services so that you can get the most out of each experience. Does that seem ok?"

Claire nodded. Rachel began to ask questions and took notes as the interview progressed. It started like any other application process she'd ever done. Name, address, profession. Generic questions about life-style, allergies and the like. But the questions became steadily more explicit and intriguing. How many times a week would you reach a climax? Alone, with another... or others? Have you been able to achieve multiple climaxes? Do you actively use fantasy while masturbating? Have you found your G-spot? Do you enjoy anal sex?

When the questions had finished, Rachel put down her pad.

"Right. The only section left now is the practical component."

"The... the what?"

"The practical component. We need to know what makes you tick. In doing so we are far better placed to, pardon the expression, get you off."

Claire was speechless. She had not expected this at all. Rachel was silent for a moment. Part of her was on the verge of standing up and leaving, but she realised this was obviously a moment of truth in this process. If she chose to leave now, there were fewer implications either for herself or for Rachel. She remained where she was.

Rachel continued. "There are four ways we can go about this. Option one is you masturbate here for me today, in one of our service lounges. It doesn't have to result in an orgasm, although it helps."

Claire realised again that her mouth was hanging open. She had a strange moment of imagining herself with a look of comic, cartoon shock.

"It's ok," said Rachel with a reassuring smile. "I understand that this can come as a shock, but let me reassure you the benefits will become apparent."

Claire could only nod.

"There are other options. Option two is we set up a digital camera here in one of our lounges, and you can masturbate in front of that. This gives you a little more privacy. Option three," Rachel continued, "is you can take a camera home with you, and bring back the results when you're ready. You can take as long as you need with this option, though we do need the camera back at some stage" she said with a laugh. "The fourth option is that your first session with an attendant is the practical investigation. We don't recommend that option, because though it can be loads of fun, it's not nearly as fun as getting it right first time!"

Claire could hear her pulse in her ears. Her cheeks were flushed, but that was only partly due to the scenarios being described, and partly because of the images that were flashing across her mind. After a moment or two, she made her mind.

"I think I'd like to take the camera home."

Rachel leaned closer and smiled.

"That's what I chose too."

*****

Almost a week went by and Claire went about her normal routine; getting up, going to work, working too hard and too long. She glanced at the case that the camera had come in a few times, but immediately felt embarrassed at her thoughts and busied herself with other things.

Finally, Friday night came. In a rare occurrence, she logged off her computer in the middle of the afternoon and caught up with a few friends for a glass of wine or two. By 8:30 she was home and happy. She thought about what Bec had said about taking some serious 'her' time.

"I think about it as taking advantage of myself," Bec had said which made her laugh. "Some good wine, maybe a movie, then I yawn and try to cop a feel!"

She smiled as she opened a bottle of red, poured a generous glass and went to run a bath and light some candles. Soon she was neck deep in hot, aromatic bath water, listening to some soothing music and sipping red wine. As the stresses of the week began to dissolve into the warmth and steam of the bathroom, Claire idly let her fingers begin to caress her skin. The water had some delicious oils in it, and her hands slid smoothly over her body. She stroked the tops of her thighs, the sides of her tummy and the nape of her neck. She felt suddenly as though water had become hotter, too hot and she decided to climb out and rinse off. She let the water run cool, feeling every cell come alive. She gasped as her nipples puckered to hardness under the cold stream. Reaching up, she pinched them both, and a soft exhalation escaped her lips.

She knew instinctively that this was going to be an interesting night. She towelled off, and unhurriedly moved the candles from the bathroom to the bedroom. She drained her glass, and with a quickening breath, set about arranging the camera at the foot of her bed. When it was in position, she paused and then turned the view find window around to face the bed, and lay back.

Claire watched herself on the screen of the camera. Enjoying the candle light play across her skin, she could already feel how turned on she was. Laying there and watching herself on the camera's little screen conjured all sorts of delicious fantasies. Her hands gently but insistently kneaded her breasts, and she rolled her nipples between her fingers. With a groan Claire closed her eyes, imagining faceless people in a darkened room, watching her.

There are men and women standing in a darkened room. They are assessing and observing her for some unknown purpose or project. They are impassive and neutral; focused on the screen, watching her fingertips glide down her body until they trace her wet labia. They are wearing dark suits and jackets, and as they watch her they begin to grow aroused, though none of them says a word.

As her middle finger gently parted her soft, full lips for the first time, she felt with a thrill how wet she was.

On impulse, she brought her finger to her tongue; something she would never normally do. She tasted herself, and imagined her faceless audience becoming more aroused as they wondered what she tasted like. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

In her head, the faceless watchers are struggling to remain neutral as they watch her on the screen. They begin to touch themselves, trying to not to be obvious, and struggling with the desire that growing in each of them. She imagines thick hard cocks straining inside tailored pants and pussy lips becoming moist and slippery. One of the women has slipped her hand under her skirt. As her fingers glide across the hard rock of her clitoris, her watchers fail to supress their silence. She hears their moans as they all abandon restraint, exposing themselves so they can better touch themselves.

She lifted her leg, displaying her pussy to the camera, and penetrated herself deeply, letting her little finger dance over the opening of her ass. The naughtiness of it sent a thrill through her body.

Her middle finger thrusts into her pussy, and her audience wills her on. They need her to climax in order to be allowed to release their own pleasure. She hears the desperation in their moans. She holds them there.

Her clitoris was throbbing, the walls of her vagina squeezing her slippery finger, and her orgasm close. She slipped a second finger into her dripping pussy as her little finger dipped into her ass. Claire came harder than she had in a very long time. Her pussy spasmed as the climax rocketed through her arching body. She was vaguely aware of the sound of her voice, crying out in pleasure.

In the darkened room in her head, her watchers are all coming. With shuddering moans, they ride their fingers and shoot great gobs of hot come over the television screen.

She lay on the twisted sheets, panting. The afterglow of her orgasm flowed through her, warm and delicious. After a time, she sat up.

"Hope that helped," she said with a sheepish but satisfied smile as she pressed the stop button. Sliding back on to the bed, she was asleep as her head hit the pillow.

*****

"It did help. A lot," said Rachel. "Matt has been selected for you, he will be along in a moment to introduce himself and take you through for your first session. Welcome aboard!"