The Woman from The Penthouse Ch. 02

'Did you like the cat?' I asked her. She snuggled into my chest and answered quietly that she loved it. 'I want you to write a review for the magazine, telling the readers what it was like being hurt and pleasured by it. Do you think you could do that?' I asked. She looked up at me, her lovely brown eyes making my heart beat faster, and answered that she could. I told her that if I liked her review, I would ask her to do the same for the other special items I had received today, the ones I had ordered especially for her pleasure. Eagerly she asked me what they were, like a little girl at Christmas time, but I assured her she would feel them all very soon. She begged me to give her a clue, and I said they were items that would restrain her, tie her, make her totally helpless, if she were foolish enough to resist. She shook her head, meaning she would never resist me, and I kissed the tip of her delightful little nose affectionately. Some of these items, I added, would fill her little tight cunt with pleasurable sensations almost beyond endurance, while others would cause her only pain. She shivered with anticipation.

'I can hardly wait,' she confessed. 'I really need this you know; whatever it is you choose to give me. I need it so badly. Please don't send me away, promise me you'll smack me even if I'm good. I'll be your sex slave, you'll never regret a single thing, I promise,' she pleaded.

'My sweet little silly fool,' I assured her. 'What brought this on? You're so wonderful, so beautiful. I could no more send you away, than shoot myself in the foot. I have so much to show and teach you yet, so much pleasure to extract from your beautiful body and your beautiful mind. If I had set out to design a co-conspirator in sex, designed for her beauty and sexiness, I would have come up with you. You my darling are quite perfect in every way. I'll hear no more of such silliness. You are not my slave and never will be, but you are my bitch, what are you I asked?' She repeated that she was my bitch, and snuggled closer again. 'And I'm not your master, or Sir or anything like that - we are lovers, plain and simple.' She nodded, turning up her beautiful face for me to kiss, so I kissed her again, lovingly, and I realised I was beginning to fall in love with her, but I knew I would have to keep that to myself, unless she showed definite signs of reciprocating my feelings.

Soon she had to go as it was growing late, and her husband may return from his business trip to London at any time, or he may have to stay another night, she just wasn't sure. Once again I saw her out to the door, and once again she flashed her lovely cunt at me as the lift doors began to close. I smiled at the last glimpse of her beautiful face, and then, turning away, I shut the door behind me.

Her smell was everywhere, her perfume, her body scent, her musk. On my face, my hands and fingers, my body, on the couch, the bed, everywhere. I thought that it may be easier to get rid of her smell, than to rid myself of her, 'presence,' in my heart and mind. I would have to be careful; someone like her could virtually destroy me if it all went wrong. I had a lot to think of, but I felt perhaps it was already too late. I was inextricably linked to my lovely neighbour and would have to play the cards I'd been dealt.

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