The Shop on the Corner

"We have only begun, my shy Darling." I could feel, taste her breath push into my open mouth with every word she spoke.

My tongue slid between my lips, questing for contact.

She stepped back. Cool air touched my bare ass, and then she took my hand.

She led me out through the curtains into another room.

She led me out through the curtains into another room.

We entered cave. Furs covered the floor, the walls and ceiling were rock. Rough tracing in primary colors of animals hunted peeked thought the soot.

It was primal, ancient, wild. She handed me a cup, it steamed with mingled scents. I closed my eyes and sipped. Then the cup was taken away.

Once more her hands touched my shoulders turned me, this time away from her. I felt the busters' strings loosen, then release.

I took a deep breath that caught in my throat, as the garment slid down my body to lay discarded at my ankles.

I lifted one foot, and then the other clear. I stood, naked but for the hose, garter belt and heels.

Eyes still closed, I felt a fur cloak slide across my body and around my back to envelope me.

Warmth surrounded me as I clenched my arms tight. The fur slid and played across my bare skin like thousands of tiny fingers, that tickled and made my body shake. I felt myself fall backwards.

I was lying on my back, my legs spread wide. I opened my eyes as she knelt between them. Fire played across the primitive paintings on the ceiling making the stick figures dance and move.

I knew the hunters would return soon, but for now --her tongue plunged deep into me. I gasped as it moved and I instantly erupted. I closed my eyes tight, just as the high-pitched scream of a Saber Tooth Tiger ripped the air just outside the cave. My eyes flew open. Suddenly, I stood, I shook with reaction and she removed the fur. I tried to grab it, wanting more, unsure how I had regained my feet.

"So, fur." She tugged it away and cast it to the floor. "Come." Her voice drew me forward as the cave disappeared into a white mist. The cold clammy air made me shiver.

I blinked in disappointment, I needed her between my legs. I shook with my desire as the cold surrounded me.

I wanted, no, must grab her, force my tongue deep into her mouth, to share that heat- to demand, to take to.... Wait- what, what was I .. Naked, I am naked, in a shop. Anyone could see me! I pulled away from her. My head jerked back and forth, I searched for an exit. My heart hammered, I spun around, palms cold with sweat as I shivered in panic. What was happening?

Her hand grabbed mine. I tried to pull away. She tightened her grip until it began to hurt. She was so strong.

"No- "I blinked confused, the heat from her hand began to spread. "What, how?" I gasped.

"Calmly." She patted my hand, "easy it is alright, you are safe, secure, wanted ...desired." I leaned towards her, she was so beautiful, why had I been so frightened?

"Still, you did seek to disobey me."

Had I? I no longer felt it was as important. Was there any reason to be concerned, I just wanted to please her.

"I-I'm sorry." I whispered, I looked down in submission as the heat from her hand began to fill me, warm me, interest me.

"I know just the display room." Her chuckle sounded so evil, I had to follow her across the floor.

We stopped before a large door. Old rusted bolts, the kind you needed two hands to move sealed the thick worn wood. A tiny barred window made the door look dangerous, threatening. I could smell the wet dusty scent of old hay and rotted meat. A dungeon my mind screamed.

Without a glance at me, Malika pushed the door. Hinges groaned in a protest of metal grinding on metal.

I was pulled inside and just as my imagination had worried, I discovered a medieval dungeon.

Smoky torches gave the room a shadowy, flickering dirty feel. Racks along one side held studded leather devices, riding crops, whips, masks, coiled ropes, heavy chains, paddles- my mind flashed again to that earlier scene.

I was bent over a desk, my skirt lifted as I waited to feel the hot pain strike my bottom.

I jerked as I heard a click. Not a desk. A cold, heavy manacle had been closed upon my wrist. I looked up. Its mate hung down from the darkness above. My other arm was lifted and with another click that closed on my wrist. Then both lifted into the darkness above, with each clink and clank of chain it raised my hands up past my waist, then shoulders and up over my head.

I stood, arms forced straight above my head, naked, as I tottered for balance on those tiny points of heel. Helpless!

I opened my mouth to ask a question when something- it felt round and tasted like rubber was placed into my mouth from behind. Two straps dangled and swiftly Malika pulled them behind my head and I heard as much as felt her tie the ends tight. It forced my mouth open.

With my tongue, I could feel holes drilled into the rubber ball, but it effectively gaged me, I could breathe but couldn't speak, only grunt.

I looked around. This was impossible, but I was really in a medieval dungeon. I could sense it was deep underground, the torches were real. They gave off smoky heat that rose into the darkness high above, the pitch sharp in my nose and bitter on my tongue.

I inhaled through my nose, old smells of urine, blood, mold, and wet hay filled me with scents. It was insane. Health codes, this had to violate them all. No, it could not be true, but then, how was this happening? I could sense rats move in the filthy hay, this was a place or terror, loss, injury, death. I struggled but only made my wrists take all my weight as I my toes in the heels slipped on something noxious and vulgar.

I tried to jerk my arms free, it hurt my wrists and I almost lost my balance again. This was not another waking dream; I was completely awake and aware this time.

I waited for helpless panic, for fear to rise, instead I felt oddly, curious. I had never wanted this, never even considered bondage, yet ...I was somehow excited. I waited, my breath heaved as saliva formed in my mouth to drip through the hold. Helpless I waited. I felt wetness form between my legs.

Malika stepped in front of me. My eyes followed her as she slowly removed first her jacket, folded it and laid it on a small blanket next to the rack of implement. Her cool eyes watched me, appraised me as she undid one button after another until her blouse hung open. She shrugged that off to drop it in the blanket. Instead of a bra she wore a strange chain halter that ringed her breasts more than supported them. Her aureoles were wider than silver dollars. Her nipples were so erect they poked out of openings lined with tiny spikes that dug into and dappled her skin.

I couldn't seem to catch my breath as she slowly slid her loose slacks down revealing cut out leather panties; she was clean shaven down there.

What I had thought were her shoes, were in fact stiletto boots molded tight to her skin that reached to mid-thigh, hidden under her loose pants, for a moment I wondered how she had removed her slacks over those boots ... the thought drifted away.

She turned away and lifted a mask from the bench and pulled it on and then turned slowly towards me. It covered half her face. The top looked like a cat's head. Small ears rose-up on each side of the smooth leather. It left her mouth and chin uncovered.

Next she drew on long black gloves, the fingers were cut away. The elegant French nails became a red, sinister threat. The urban elegant woman was gone, now she was a deadly cat, and I was her prey.

Her hand lifted in a claw to trail her nails gently across my face, down my neck and to my back. Each nail danced across my skin and left me to twist towards that shiver and tingle she caused as her hand left my skin. Almost, but not ...quite she cut my skin, but left long bright red groves behind, felt as much as seen.

She drew the hand back over my shoulder and then down to scratch across my nipple. I whimpered slightly and tried to arch my back. I was unsure if I leaned towards or away, but instead only swayed, helpless.

Was it pain or pleasure that made me moan that way? I knew I didn't want her to stop, even as I feared she would continue.

Malika wove and swayed around my body, and then began to rub up and down against me like a cat against a favored person. Skin and leather slid across skin.

I tried to move, to increase that contact, but all I did was gyrate slightly in place as Malika controlled all the contact.

Her cupped claws played down across my belly, and left what felt like thin red trails of scratches. She circled my belly button before those claws dipped --lower.

I gasped as a single finger slid deep inside me. I moaned through my gag and then sagged so only the manacles held me up, those and it seemed, her single finger that played back and forth inside me.

Muscles clenched on that finger, at the rough leather as it moved in, then out, using me. Heat built, I panted as spit leaked out from around the gag to drip down my chin. My world focused on her finger, on that movement until everything flashed bright as my insides clenched down hard as I exploded and screamed through the gag.

My mind was ripped from me to drain down to that single point of intense throbbing contact. My Heart pounded, unsure how I survived as that exquisite moment stretched into undulating waves of eternity. I knew in that moment I died, quenched and sated.

Eventually, I came back. My blurred eyes blinked open as that finger slid from me.

My breath bellowed in, out. Spent, I stared as that finger was raised and then slid between her own incredible lips. Her other hand reached behind my head and released the gag which fell towards the floor.

I swallowed as I moved my sore jaw around to loosen it, and then froze as my eyes widened.

She pulled that finger out of those red lips with a soft pop. Her eyes met mine as she moved that finger towards my mouth.

She pulled that finger out of those red lips with a soft pop. Her eyes met mine as she moved that finger towards my mouth.

I stubbornly kept my lips tightly sealed.

That finger slid across my own lips, and then moved and with increasing pressure tried to force its way into my mouth. My upper lip felt torn as her finger nail pushed up against my teeth and paused.

Eyes held mine I felt her shift closer and then gasped as my right nipple was twisted hard.

Her finger entered my mouth and paused, waited. I let my tongue touch and then circle that finger. I sucked hard. I felt it begin to withdraw so I tightened my teeth down as a threat. The finger paused. I glanced up in time to see one eyebrow lift. Immediately I released the finger.

"Do you want me to punish you Pet?"

No! I thought and then realized I had nodded- yes.

In an instant, she had stepped behind me, and then I felt a gag return.

This one was very different, it had a phallic shape as it slid into my mouth. I heard a snap as she secured it. The rubber was hard, a penis shaped filled my mouth almost into my throat, it felt obscene, disgusted I fought against my chains, as I needed to breathe through my nose.

I had enjoyed limited oral sex with men before, but this was somehow more intrusive, not to give pleasure, a threat.

My tongue could feel holes drilled through it once I calmed a bit. I could breathe but if it went even a tiny bit deeper it would trigger my gag reflex. I felt saliva pool and then drip down my chin and onto my breasts.

Still behind me I was dimly aware of sounds as I probed the gag with my tongue. My eyes snapped up as she rolled what looked like a gymnastics pommel horse, turned sideways in front of me. She locked it into place.

Malika moved out of sight behind me and then I felt something attach to my ankles.

I looked down my ankles just as they were jerked tight to the bottom of the horse. It almost pulled my arms out of their sockets as I was bent slightly backwards. An instant later I felt the manacles that held my wrists descend even as they pulled forward. They dragged me across and then down the other side of the horse sideways so my waist was partly pulled over the saddle, my head hung down towards the floor.

My hips on one side, my breasts on the other. The leather of the horse saddle hard across my stomach. I have always been limber, but this stretched me uncomfortably. I heard the whirl of a small engine as the manacles at my ankles slowly separated and moved forward until I was spread eagled over the horse, my wrists were now almost touching my ankles. I couldn't move, my muscles pulled as tight as possible without tearing muscles.

I was having trouble breathing. My head now hung down below the edge of the horse close to the floor, my legs in a split almost across the top. Drool dripped down my forehead as my breath whistled in and out. Only the holes in the gag kept me from choking.

I heard a "whisk" sound near my ear. Turning my head to the side, I watched her swing a riding crop next to me. I realized I was the horse, about to be whipped.

She knelt next to me. I felt the gag removed I coughed until she grabbed a handful of my hair, jerked my head up and back, bent at the neck. Then her lips mashed against mine.

My mouth opened and my tongue was sucked deep into her mouth, I felt helpless as her tongue twirled around mine. It almost hurt as she tried to suck it out.

Malika released my head which fell forward into the open space under the horse.

She stood, moved away a moment and then something smooth and wet played across my pussy, the only dirty word that fit this. I jerked, or tried to, but helpless, I was unable to move anything but my head.

It was shoved deep into me. I screamed "YES!"

It was pulled out, and then slid in, it filled me, in and then out several times. "No," I whimpered as she removed it.

She moved towards my head, jerked me up by my hair and rested my head on her knee. I could just watch as with a twist she removed the penis like device from the gag and replaced it with the one she had just assaulted my vagina with. Then she shoved the gag back into my mouth and fastened it. I could taste myself on the dildo. She moved her knee and let my head drop. Once more I was trying to deep throat a cock but this one tasted like me.

Malika must have moved behind me while I was distracted, I heard a "Wheet" sound and felt as much as heard the "Swat!" as the crop slashed across my bottom.

It hurt. The sound was as terrible as the pain. "Swak! SWAK!" She began to whip my butt, first one cheek and then the other. A steady rhythm was soon established. I began to anticipate each swat, it was making my bottom burn, yet I began to enjoy that sound, that pain, I was so alive.

It seemed like hours, my butt felt hot, but not like she was injuring me, still it became more and more sore. Each slap of leather placed to move and cover every millimeter of my skin. Only to begin again. I was light headed, snot dripped from my nose. My face, forehead and hair covered in my spit. Something built, pulsed from my skin deep into me as it continued.

I was totally aroused, yet ashamed. What was wrong with me? This was wrong, dirty, evil, bad, and I reveled in it. I didn't care! I wiggled, moved, tried to spread my cheeks so other places could be struck. I feared she would strike my lips, mu cunt and needed that to happen.

The rhythm increased, she missed my vagina by the barest distance, no matter how I wiggled damn it. Then -it- just- stopped.

"No," I moaned. Crushed, disappointed, I wanted ...more. Needed more....

My wrists and ankles were released. I was helped to crouch on my hands and knees. I shook, unable to move, to look, to function. Something cool, soothing was rubbed across my raw butt. I noticed the insides of the manacles were lined to protect me. I looked down, my wrists were wet with sweat, but unmarked.

In a daze, I was helped up, it took many steps before I could even bore my own weight, even then I staggered, more held up, dragged then able to walk.

I was led back to earlier Victorian room. I sat, and flinched even at the well-padded cushion on the chair. Unable t focus, thin, I was unaware I help a cup, until my hands were gently lifted so I could sip the last of the tea in my cup, surprised it was still warm. I blinked, hadn't hours just passed, days?

The maid came in bowed and silently stripped off the hose and heels. I kept rubbing my red bottom, I liked the feel.

She washed my entire body and then dried me off. Soon she had once more dressed me in that elaborate gown, I was once more the ideal of a highly fashionable Victorian lady prepared to venture back out into the world of high class, men, society and secret need.

I walked to the curtain and oddly seemed to become enveloped in the swirling silk. It surrounded me and for a moment I was disorientated, lost, dizzy. I took two steps forward turned and sat in a chair.

I blinked and then felt everything shift slightly and click into place. I was back in the original room with the antique Russian Samovar. Next to me was the cup and saucer. I reached out a finger, the porcelain was still warm from the tea I had just finished. ...Just finished?

I looked at my sleeve, the leather of an old bomber jacket, not the gown of a fashionable Victorian Lady?

I was back in my old jeans, tennis shoes, and alone, where had Malika gone? She was ...I was certain she had just been here a second ago and...

I closed my eyes to take mental and physical stock. Had I fallen asleep? I felt wonderful, rested, alert, more alive than I had felt in weeks, months, hell, years.

I heard a door open and an older lady about my height in her seventies walked in from behind the curtain and she seemed to jump a little startled.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I did not hear you enter. May I help you Miss?" She was a stranger.

"I was just, where did..." I stopped, words escaped me. I stood.

"Excuse me." I moved past her and walked back past the curtain and into the main shop. It was the same large room but with a totally different interior. Gone with the exotic displays.

Multiple displays of lingerie, shoes, clothes, beautiful, exotic and dripping with expensive tags, but they were on normal racks and displays. Lines of dresses and coats were hung along one wall. Half a dozen elegantly dressed women walked around to look at the wares as several sales ladies waited on them.

Where had all the women come from? How had those exotic rooms of silk, panels and furs disappeared? I walked to the front door, the chime sounded as I opened it.

I glanced quickly up and down the street. The rain still fell. There was no sign of any elegant tall woman to be seen.

"Miss?"

I turned to look back at the little old lady. She looked at me, concerned.

"Oh, ..." What could I say, how to describe that erotic experience without being thought a fook, or mad. "...Nothing."

What had it all meant? "May I sit for a moment; I feel a little ...confused and disorientated." I begged as I shook my head. Had it only been a dream or what?

"Of course my Dear. Here, sit." Her smile was warm and friendly. "Take your time, all of us here at A Woman's Place understand the demands on today's modern women. That is why this place was started well over a hundred and eighty years ago, as an escape for women, to be feminine without those pesky men bothering us." Her eyes twinkled in mischief at me. "Mind you they do have their place and can serve some of our needs, but really." She winked at me.

She turned to leave, "If you need anything just step back and let one of us know how we may serve your needs." She stopped to look back at me. "You are always welcome here."

...Needs. "Excuse me two questions, if I might inquire."