The Silver Anklet Ch. 08

The Silver Anklet Ch. 08

On the long car journey north I had time to reflect on my eventful stay at the hotel and, indeed, on all that had happened to me over the course of the summer break from school. Packed into these few short weeks, I had been a willing participant in one sexual encounter after another and I had experienced a wide spectrum of emotions: shame, lust, embarrassment, submissiveness, self-disgust but, above all, overwhelming pleasure. The catalyst for all this had been meeting again an old family friend who I had, since a child, called Uncle Ron, coupled with my husband's prolonged absence from home on business. Now I was on my way to yet another of these encounters which I was looking forward to immensely although not without some nervousness.

At roughly halfway distance I stopped at a motorway services for a pee and a quick coffee. As I sipped the welcoming hot liquid I checked my phone for any more messages and noticed there were two. The first was, predictably, from Uncle Ron which simply said: 'Dirty little cow,' presumably in response to the graphic video I had sent him the day before. The second, more recent one, was from Tracey asking if I was on my way. I texted back to say that I should arrive in about 3 hours' time, at around 2pm. I received a reply almost immediately. 'Great! I'm so pleased that you haven't changed your mind. I'll make sure everything is ready. See you later. T.'

My estimated arrival time proved quite accurate and, with the valuable assistance of my car satnav, I arrived at Tracey's address a few minutes before two. It was a small block of flats of three storeys in the centre of the city on what looked like a social housing estate. I parked in a bay outside and walked the short distance from the car to the flats passing a group of three male youths who were standing around a motorcycle in the small car park. I was wearing a pair of skin tight pink leggings, a sleeveless white top and flat shoes and had tied my hair into a ponytail. As I passed, the group suddenly stopped their conversation and I instantly regretted my choice of attire for the journey as they stood and stared at me as I passed.

'Fuck! Look at the perky little arse on that. Fancy coming for a ride love?' I heard one of them say, and his friends laughed at his comments.

I ignored them and hurried to the front entrance of the flats. Luckily, as I got there and was about to press the intercom, the door opened and I saw Tracey, dressed in a tracksuit and with her short dark hair hidden by a baseball cap, facing me with a worried look on her face. She heard further suggestive comments from the youths and let forth a string of expletives in their direction and ushered me inside just as I caught one final riposte from the youths.

'Sorry darlin' we didn't realise you're a rug muncher. Come back if you fancy some cock.'

Once we were safely inside the block, Tracey pulled me to her and gave me a hug.

'I'm sorry about that Lucy. I'm afraid that's what we have to put up with round here. I should have warned you not to wear anything revealing. At least not until you're inside!' she said, laughing. 'It's not the best of neighbourhoods as you probably saw. Me and my boyfriend, Darren, are saving up to buy a house so we can move out of here but it's not easy. Don't worry, he's not here. I wouldn't trust him around you and I can see why,' she said, looking pointedly at my legs and laughing. 'We're staying at Darren's mum's over the weekend so you've got the place to yourselves.' With that, she turned and beckoned me to follow her.

'Come on, let's get you upstairs. We've got plenty to do before birthday girl gets here. Oooh! I'm so glad you came!'

Tracey's flat was on the top floor. Despite the drab nature of the block, her flat was surprisingly clean and bright, with white leather sofas and tasteful pale paintwork. I was made to remove my shoes before I entered and my feet sank into lush pale grey carpeting as I stepped inside.

She led me into her small but well-equipped kitchen and I noticed a bottle of white wine standing in a cooler on the worktop together with an empty glass.

'I thought you might like some wine to help you relax while I get you ready,' said Tracey, filling the glass almost to the brim without waiting for a reply. 'There's plenty more in the fridge by the way. And food. Just help yourselves to whatever you want.' she added.

'Thank you, but aren't you having some wine?' I asked.

'No, I'll just stick to water as I'm driving later.'

We took our drinks into the lounge and sat down together on one of the comfortable-looking sofas. I was intrigued and not a little anxious about Tracey's plans for me but she didn't give me a chance to ask any questions before she launched into a summary of her life history up to that point. I learned that she was twenty years old and had been brought up in care, having been abandoned by her drug addict mother as a baby. She had met her boyfriend in the care home so they had known each other since they were tiny. She went on to explain that Christine had befriended her after she got the job two years previously at the hotel where she was working and seemingly had subsequently taken her under her wing and acted like a surrogate mother. Christine had helped her find her rental flat and loaned her the money to pay for its furnishings. She had also encouraged her to start a college course where she was learning hairdressing and beauty therapy on a part-time basis combined with working at the hotel. Her story was a sad one, but she talked without any apparent bitterness and certainly seemed happy with her current life and I admired her determination to make a better life for herself.

After topping up my wine glass, she went on to tell me a bit about Christine's background and, as she talked, I could tell there was a deep bond between them. She told me that Christine had gone through a painful divorce a few years before she met her and she had struggled for a while to bring up two teenage children and earn a living. After they had both left home and gone to university, both of them studying in Europe to be near their father, she had finally felt free to enjoy her life and come to terms with her sexuality. It seemed she had made the most of her new-found freedom and had had several short-lived relationships, including an affair with one of her daughter's former school friends who was only 18 at the time. However, most of these relationships had been with married women she had met, like me, as clients at the hotel beauty parlour and who had similarly succumbed to her unprofessional massage techniques. These dalliances hadn't lasted long, and Tracey speculated that it was probably because of Christine's tendency to be rather bossy. Though she hadn't talked about any of these other women nearly as much as she had done about me. I was also, apparently, the youngest of these clients by at least twenty years and she had told Tracey that she couldn't believe her luck when I agreed to go to her house.

'To be honest, I got fed up with it in the end and told her stop going on about you all the time as it was getting boring. She was constantly talking about her 'pretty little blonde doll'. Very annoying!' she explained, laughing at my embarrassed reaction.

I could sense a great deal of gratitude in her voice as she went on to tell me how Christine had encouraged her to go to college to get some qualifications and had helped her and Darren to set up home together, but she was at pains to tell me that they were just good friends and had never been involved sexually.

'Right, come on girl, we can't stay chatting all day, we've got work to do,' she said finally. 'You're a bit of a stunner as you probably realise, but I want you to look perfect for my friend's special day. I need you to allow me to do whatever I need to do to make that happen, no questions asked. Will you do that for me Lucy?' She said, looking at me hopefully and squeezing my hand tightly.

This all sounded intriguing and, I had to admit, very exciting. I had come to realise that I like to be compliant and to have decisions taken out of my hands so it was easy to agree to this young girl's request. I had hardly said a word since I got there and I kept it that way by simply nodding in agreement.

'Yay! I was worried you might say no, but when you turned up wearing those tight leggings and no sign of any knickers showing underneath, I guessed you were up for it!'

Tracey jumped from the sofa clapping her hands excitedly then, with her hands clasping my shoulders, led me towards the bathroom.

'Right, first things first, into the bathroom and get yourself showered, or you can have a bath, or both if you want. Don't forget to wash your hair and brush your teeth. You brought a toothbrush I hope?' I nodded and quickly retrieved it from my handbag. 'There's everything you need in there, including some tampons if you need one. Is anything happening yet down there by the way?'

'No, not yet,' I replied. 'I don't think it will happen soon, so I won't bother with the tampon. Thanks anyway for remembering.'

'You don't think you're....you know,' said Tracey, looking pointedly at my belly.'

'Oh god, I don't think so. At least I hope not!' I seemed confident in my reply, but the thought that I might be pregnant had made me just ever so slightly concerned over the last couple of days. I dismissed the possibility however because, as far as I could remember, I had taken my pill every day and, in any case, my periods were usually a bit erratic in timing.

'OK...right. When you've finished, there's a robe in there you can put on. Then you'll find me in my spare room over there,' she said, pointing to a door in the corner of the lounge. 'That's my makeshift salon. It's got all my college beauty therapy stuff in there so I can get you ready for when Chris gets here. It'll be good practise for me.'

I decided to soak in a hot bath then take a shower, where I washed my hair under the powerful jets of hot water. I found some moisturiser and massaged this into my arms, legs and feet. I slipped on the knee-length white silk robe that was hanging on a hook on the door, and then headed for Tracey's spare room as instructed.

It was quite a small room, made even smaller by shelving on two of the walls, loaded with an untidy array of bottles, tubes, aerosol sprays, brushes, combs and other equipment that you would associate with a beautician or hairdresser. In the centre of the room was a large padded chair with a smaller foot stool extending from its base on which sat Tracey. As I entered the room, she put down the magazine she had been reading and jumped up to greet me.

'There you are! All squeaky clean I hope. Right, up into the chair please and we'll get started on you. Oooh, this is going to be fun! As well as getting you ready for Chris, you can also be my college project at the same time. That's if you don't mind of course. It'll just mean taking a few pictures as I go along for my college portfolio.' She looked at me pleadingly. I hesitated before replying and was about to refuse, but she looked so expectant that I relented.

'Well, OK, but as long as you promise they won't be used anywhere else.'

'Thank you! I promise!' Tracey clapped her hands in a silly, fake-excited way before continuing in a more serious manner. 'Listen. Let me explain what I plan for you. It's something I think Chris will be really pleased with. Do you remember me telling you that when she talked about you, which has been a lot, she called you her little blonde doll?' I nodded my head, wondering where this was going. 'Well, that's how I want you to look for her. Like her sweet, innocent little doll, ready to be played with. You've certainly got the face for it, although I think you're not quite as innocent as you look are you girl,' she asked rhetorically, and I just laughed at her forthrightness.

Her plan seemed very kinky and very erotic and I was more than happy to let her proceed. I sat back in the comfortable chair with my feet on the stool and for the next three hours let Tracey practise her budding beautician skills on me in the way that she had obviously so carefully planned.

My blonde hair was blow-dried, brushed, combed then braided into two long pigtails which she tied at the tips with little pink silk ribbons. My fingernails and toenails were cut, filed, shaped and painted with a glossy pink nail varnish. Makeup was applied sparingly and discreetly to my face - 'to keep my sweet innocent look' according to Tracey -- and pink lipstick painted on my lips to match my nail colour.

When she had finished, Tracey took a number of photos of my face, hair, hands and feet for her college project and seemed satisfied with the results. The she stood for a while looking at me from a distance then, as if she had just remembered something, approached me.

'Do you mind if I take a look down there,' she said, pointing to the lower portion of my body. By that time, I felt perfectly relaxed in her company and was thoroughly enjoying being pampered and fussed over, so I had no hesitation in agreeing to her request.

She reached down and gently parted my robe.

'Do you mind if I get rid of that,' she said, indicating the little landing strip of golden pubic hair above my pussy, 'only I don't think that little dolls have pubes, and I need to get you authentic.'

I rather liked my look down below, but kept in the spirit of the occasion and readily agreed. In any case, it would soon grow again.

Tracey then produced a razor, massaged some foam into my pubes and proceeded to carefully shave me. She dried me off with a towel and stood back to inspect her handiwork.

'I'll just put some moisturiser on there to prevent any soreness. You don't mind, do you? You can put it on yourself if you like.'

'No, go ahead. I don't mind.'

'I thought you wouldn't,' she said, looking at me pointedly and grinning.

She then squeezed some cream out of a tube onto her hands and began to apply the cream slowly and gently to the recently shaved area. The feeling was quite pleasurable and I lay back and closed my eyes. As Tracey's fingers worked the cool moisturiser into my skin I suddenly jerked and gave a little gasp as a little jolt of pleasure, like a tiny electric shock, ran through my loins. My eyes shot open and I quickly realised that Tracey's fingers had brushed lightly against my clit. From my startled reaction, she must have realised what she had done, as she suddenly stopped and gave out a little nervous giggle.

'Oops! Sorry about that. It was an accident so don't get any ideas!'

'That's OK, I don't mind. Really.' I replied, wondering whether she was being truthful. I had really enjoyed my time with her and was getting increasingly aroused while she was working on me - and I got the impression she was also enjoying herself. I might have been imagining things, but occasionally a hand would linger perhaps a little longer than necessary, or her body would 'accidentally' brush against my covered breasts

'Umm...I bet you don't, but as I told you before I'm only into men. Although I must admit I have been just a tiny bit tempted. Anyway, I don't want you tired out before Chris gets here. I need you to be gagging for it by then!' She stood looking at me and smiling, then her eyes wandered down my body and for a moment I thought, at least I hoped, that she had changed her mind.

'Whoa! You're leaking girl,' she exclaimed, pointing. 'Did I do that? Wow!'

I looked down to where she was pointing. My legs were still spread apart with my dressing gown gaping open and I could see a distinct trickle of viscous looking milky liquid seeping from my pussy lips. Embarrassed, I quickly closed my legs and covered myself up.

'Sorry...I...'

'No need to apologise Lucy.' Tracey interrupted, 'I'm flattered really. Do you always get wet like that?'

'Umm...Usually, yes,' I replied sheepishly.

'I wish it could be that easy for me sometimes. I guess you are one horny lady. Looks like my friend's luck will be in if that's anything to go by!'

Having finally completed my makeover, Tracey tidied up and placed everything neatly back on the shelves.

'Chris will be here in about an hour,' she said, checking her watch. 'I'm going to change and pack my overnight bag, and then get my bedroom ready. You stay here while your nails dry. Would you like a drink? More wine?'

'Just some water thanks.'

After bringing me a bottle of cold water, she looked at me with a serious look on her face. 'I'll leave you in peace now and no touching yourself while I'm gone. I want you to save yourself until Chris gets here. Promise?' I nodded in agreement. 'Or touching it with anything else!' she added, laughing to herself as she left the room.

As the minutes ticked by I became more and more excited about the prospect of the weekend ahead, but at the same time increasingly nervous and eventually some doubts started to creep into my mind. I was sure that Tracey had made me look very appealing but perhaps Christine might not think so. Or, what if Christine was disappointed that her plans for a nice night out with Tracey to celebrate the milestone of her fiftieth birthday were not going to be realised? After all, they were clearly very good friends and Christine might think I was coming between them and somehow compromising that friendship.

I expressed these doubts to Tracey when she eventually returned, now dressed in tight white designer jeans, and a red silk shirt in complete contrast to her earlier rather tomboyish look. She shook her head as I rambled on and smiled. Then she cupped my chin in her hand and looked at me closely as if reassuring a small child.

'Stop worrying Lucy. You don't know Chris like I do. She'll be blown away by her birthday present, I'm one hundred per cent sure of it, and I can't wait to see the look on her face when she sees you. You look fabulous so don't worry about that. I think I've done a good job, even if I say it myself. You'll be able to see for yourself in a minute -- I've got a full-length mirror in my bedroom.'

'But won't she be disappointed that she's not going out with you like she is expecting?'

'Absolutely not! Not when she sees you and how I've set everything up. I've been planning it for ages and I think she will love it. You'll see, come on let's go!' She grabbed me by the hand and pulled me up from the chair then led me out of the room and marched me back into the lounge, then pointed to one of the sofas.

'Sit down Lucy, I need to talk to you before Chris gets here.' She sat down next to me and, still holding my hand hesitated for a moment before speaking as if gathering her thoughts. 'There's something I haven't told you about Christine...I mean...about what she told me she likes, err...you know.' Her voice trailed off and she looked away, clearly a little embarrassed. 'Like, in bed I mean.'

'Oh. Right.' I answered warily.

'You might already know this...I mean I don't know what you two got up to before but, well, she's a bit kinky I think. Only from what she's said to me, usually when she's had a few drinks. Anyway, she keeps going on about you like I said, and once she said that she fantasised about tying you up and having her way with you while you were helpless...I think you know where I'm going with this.'

I was taken aback by what Tracey said and my mouth dropped open involuntarily. She sensed my surprise and continued before I had a chance of replying. 'Look, sorry, you don't have to if you don't want to, it was just an idea. It's just that it would make everything perfect for her. I mean, like, making her fantasy come true.'

This revelation came as a bit of a bolt out of the blue. I didn't reply immediately as I was trying to take in what Tracey had said. I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised as I remembered Christine's use of a ball-gag in my mouth to stop me making a noise during our little rendezvous at her house. Even so, it was not as if I knew the woman very well and who knew what other stuff she might be into.