Three and Out

[To those of you who have not yet read the stories "First Position", "After Dinner Mint", and "My Aching Feet", Sean is a successful business owner who was introduced to Cynthia (real name Sheila) as a potential client for her BDSM business. He reversed roles on her and released some of her pent up whatever. Sheila's childhood acquaintance (dancers in the same elite dance school), Francine Martel was also a HS friend of Sean's. She fills in some details to both parties.]

* * * * *

I was working in my office Friday afternoon when the courier arrived. Joyce works only half day Fridays, so I signed for it. I was glad I did. Enclosed were a set of disclosure documents, a contract, and a picture. I recognized the picture immediately, though there was no face in the photo. It was Cynthia, no, Sheila. I would have to settle that point with her. I had to admit that it was provocative.

The picture was of a woman, well built, very well in fact, trim, athletic standing against a wall. She wore only stockings and one high heeled shoe. Her long hair hung down to partially obscure her excellent breasts, which were forced forward by the fact that her arms were bound behind her at the elbow. A truly excellent black pump supported one leg--the other pump was lying in the photo just to the right of the woman--while the other leg, flexed slightly at the knee, was point toed to the ground. The tension from the unbalanced support was clearly visible in the musculature.

I flipped the photo over to see the photographer, but there were no credits. Instead I found a handwritten note, which read, "Hope to see more of you soon." It was signed SS. There was a double meaning there. Knowing her even slightly as I did, I was sure both meanings applied. The signature solved my earlier problem; I would call her Sheila. I felt honored. I was fairly certain few if any of her clients were allowed to do so.

The obvious question--who had taken the photo--was answered by the disclosure documents. There was a surveillance system in the studio. Tapes remained the property of the management, but still frames could be purchased with proper notice. This one appeared to be gratis. Excellent work too. Especially from videotape. I might consider her for my next layout shoot. She might find the change stimulating.

I sat back in my chair and looked at the picture again. Little details came to me the second time through. She had no bikini lines. Either she did not sunbathe or she tanned in the nude. My guess would be naturally dark skin. She cropped her pubic hair. That would be a dancers habit. She was dewing. Rewind. She had dew on her pubic hair. Enough to be visible at call it, 30 feet. And I left her like that. Way to go stud. Get a girl hot and leave her standing there. If my brains were dynamite…

Lets see. I had given her card to Franki. I was not going to call Chuck. Where oh where has your phone number gone. Ah letterhead. Answering service. Even better. I left a message that I would be at the same restaurant we had been introduced on Monday at 1:00. I mentioned the contract. If she showed or called…

The weekend dragged like few I had had. I could not seem to keep my mind on work, the game on TV, the game at the club, anything. Monday I set up a status meeting with Chuck. He seemed eager to meet. I could guess why.

Lunch was fun. Sheila came by at the soup course. We both scared the shit out of Chuck, who had hoped to gloat. We made a date for dinner and symphony. Poor Chuck was shocked. I swear he never thought of Sheila as a woman. I shudder to think what did go on between those car door ears of his.

With things settled a little I was able to put in some profitable time at the office. So much to do, so little time. Quite suddenly it was 5:00 on Tuesday, and I had a dinner date. It would not do to be late, so I settled for a splash and shave before changing. Ramone's is not the kind of place you go underdressed. Joyce looked me over while she tied my bow. She never says much, which is one reason she works for me, but I could see something in her eyes. She gave me a "Hope she's worth it." as I left the office.

She was at the bar. It gave me a chance to admire her back, which her dress showed very well. It also gave her a chance to freeze a guys balls with his drink. I decided to play a game of pick up. I cued the bartender.

"Give me a scotch and soda and whatever the lady at the end of the bar is having."

"It's your life buddy, but she's only been here 5 minutes and she's buried three so far."

"Five whole minutes?"

"Might be less." That was reassuring.

"Bring them anyway."

I carried the drinks over to her end of the bar.

"Why Sheila Schwartz, it's been…hours since I saw you." If she was surprised by her name, she didn't show it.

"Well Clarance Richards, it HAS been a while." Ouch. First point to her.

"I thought I would come over and get you drunk so I could have my way with you." Evil leer.

"Why Mr Richards." Scarlet O'Hara. "All that trouble for little old me?"

"Why, tis no trouble at all my dear." Foghorn Leghorn.

" I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." Bette Davis?

"Watson, to the hunt." I offered my arm, which she took. I was amused to see a couple of shocked expressions around the room, including the bartender. I love a good straight line. As we left the room I blew them all a kiss. Out in the hallway, Sheila was laughing so hard she had to stop and catch her breath. I picked up her hand and kissed it.

"Its good to see you laugh. You were so serious last week." This seemed to shock her, then she let out squeal of laughter. Garbo laughs. I would have to dig up my copy of "Ninotchka."

"Oh Sean, you are the first person to MAKE me laugh in, good heavens, years."

"Mother thought I would turn out to be good for something. She had hoped it was Law or Medicine. Still this has its rewards." She thought that was funny too.

***

Dinner was not much. The first half of the concert was no better. But when ours eyes met over plastic cups of cheap white wine, during intermission, I saw complex things churning there. Then things got better. The Prokofiev 2nd, Immanuel Axe at piano, is exhilarating. Before intermission she had kept her hands to herself. When the final performance started, she put her hand on my knee. During the bouncing turbulent allegro, her hand patted time. During the short slow passage it gripped my knee firmly. During the sweeping finale it had a death grip. Julia Roberts at the opera. This girl loved music.

When the piece had finished, we had some time to let the crowd thin, so I brought up Francine.

"I met an old colleague of yours."

"I know. She called."

"Francine and I go back to, what, 10 years old. I never dated her. I don't think anyone did. No time."

"I remember."

"There was a picture of the two of you. You had to be about 15 at the time. She said you were very talented, 'unreachable stretches and impossible holds'. Something like that. She was favorably impressed, and I give her opinion a fair amount of weight."

She dimpled, and then looked sad. I guess dreams die hard. "We were Herr Gruber's star pupils. About a year after that picture, he kicked me out. A kindness he said."

"The man knew nothing about kindness."

"On that we can agree."

"What did you do?"

" I flunked my classes, got arrested, and did some stupid shit. My dad threw me out as soon as I finished high school. I got a job teaching aerobics to fat women. Squeaked by til I met Jason."

"Jason?"

"Jason Hiram Wilmington III. Chairman of, well you know. His wife was in my class. He asked for a private lesson. It seems he thought my teaching style had other applications. He was my first, and I developed a book through him." Laughter, "His wife thought I was there to console her at his funeral."

"I see. How long has it been now?"

"From the time I met Jason, seven years."

"You've done well."

From there we went on to business. I wanted to pitch her on doing my photo shoot for me. She clearly wanted to tell me some thing also. I had no clue what that might be. We stood in the parking lot, ready to go our separate ways, when she finally broke the ice.

"Sean, I want to bring a third person to the appointment Thursday, if that's all right with you?"

"What exactly do you have in mind?"

"His name is Mario. He's a dear sweet man, but I just can't hit him hard enough to suit him. I told him you would be there and that I would be observing. I think it's the best idea I've had for him in a while. I hope you don't mind terribly." This from the woman that poured iced drinks in men's laps and scared my talkative friend Chuck completely speechless. "I'll be glad to give you a consulting fee."

CR old man, you wanted to play chicken and she raised the stakes on you. Fold or call.

"My Dear, you be there, and I will take care of things." Not brave, suicidal.

Thursday began with irritation and continued with verses in the theme. By lunch I was ready to shoot my camera crew and drown most of my staff. The one exception was Joyce, who knew how to stay out of my way on days like this. At 3:30 she discretely reminded me out my appointment with Sheila and Mario. I hoped he could take a whipping, because I was in the mood to dish one out.

I arrived promptly at 4:00. In the front room was a middle aged man who looked more Korean than Italian. Philippino maybe. Sheila moved out of the shadows to introduce us. I suggested that Mario might want a lightly attired look in the usual vein of his sessions and that a blindfold would be appropriate, with his permission. He was quite willing and retired to change. I gave him 5 minutes.

Sheila as usual was difficult to read. "Will you be participating or observing?"

"Both."

"Very well, go to the bar and clasp it with both hands behind you. I trust that you will show your usual discretion as we conduct this session." She nodded and went to comply.

This left me with a few minutes to sort through me resources. Sheila had a well stocked cabinet of restraints, ranging from soft and passive to edged and clearly painful. In addition there were paddles and whips in a range of sizes, a box marked "Piercing", another marked "Body Art", as well as an array of sexual enhancements. From these I chose a penis ring, two strings of vaginal beds, lubrication, a light paddle and a middle length leather lash.

By the time I returned to the gym, Sheila was waiting at the rail, breathing quickly. She was wearing a lighter outfit than the last time we met in this room. In a way it was a pity. I had seriously enjoyed dealing with that wonderful corset. Today she was all business, in a schoolteacher vein: Long sleeved, high collared, white cotton shirt, with a long red and green plaid skirt. As usual, her hair was done up. As usual she wore silk stockings and heeled shoes, today in white and dark green. She really showed her ankles well. On an impulse I added a full facemask to my collection and put them all in a convenient cart.

"My dear, you look lovely today. I would like to put this on. If you will allow me, I would also like your hair down."

She nodded consent. The mask was ceramic, the grinning theatre face. Since she was at the stretching bar, I simply stepped behind it to gain access to her back and hair. As I let it down, I reveled in its lushness and scent. Natural rosemary again. I carefully removed the pins. All were ivory today. Middle eastern by the look. Old. I would guess several hundred on the collectors market.

"These are lovely. Are they Persian? You may speak."

"Yes."

"I would like to discuss some of where you acquire some of your personal things at some point. You have excellent sources."

"Now I believe Mario is about ready, so we may begin." I secured the mask over her face and crossed the room to meet my charge.

"Mario. Some ground rules. Do not speak or make any vocal sound unless permitted or instructed to do so. Do you understand? You may speak."

"Yes. Master I…"

"Yes is sufficient. Do not address me as master. You are the master here. All I do is for your benefit. If your refer to me, I am "Mr Sean." If you address me, I am "Sir." Nod if you understand."

He nodded.

"Very well. I will mark this slip up to poor instruction, and will consider it no more. I remind you that this session is being recorded and that Cynthia will be able to see and hear everything as well as the tapes. Nod if you understand and consent." He nodded.

At my request, Cynthia will not speak to you til the session is complete. Now, since I see that you are suitably attired, we may begin." He was wearing a studded dog collar with several rings and leather straps at the wrists and ankles, also with rings. Nothing else.

"Mario, Cynthia has taken this opportunity to present you with some new experiences. You have met myself, but I have an assistant whom you will now meet. This session is her session also. Do not speak to her, or about her to anyone. Nod if you understand." Yes. "Excellent. Do you have a leash? You make speak."

"Yes I do."

"Yes is sufficient. Where is it? You may speak."

"It should be hanging on the wall beside the door." He gestured with his head.

"It is unnecessary to gesture. Please restrain from such overreaching of my instructions. I see three leashes: one red, one green, one of braided leather. Which?"

"Leather."

"Excellent. A distinct improvement. One moment." I took the leash off the wall and snapped it in his collar. I pulled it lightly and he followed it willingly. I led him to where Cynthia—she would be Cynthia in here—was waiting.

"My Dear, this is Mario. I will shortly allow you to become more closely acquainted, but at the moment you look flushed. I think you might be a little more comfortable with somewhat lighter attire. Mario, kneel.

Mario knelt with his hands at his sides. "Mario drop to all fours." He did. For the duration of this session you have no hands, only paws. I will enforce this quite firmly. Do you understand?" He nodded.

"Very well. You may advance and investigate my assistant. Be thorough."

Mario crawled forward and began to nose around Cynthia's ankles and shoes. He seemed enamored of her footwear in fact. While he nosed at her feet, I reached for her neck. The collar of the top came all the way to her throat. I undid the tiny pearl buttons. The lace ruffle was exquisite. It looked hand tatted and attached with a crochet hook.

"My Dear, this is a new top. Did you wear it specially for me?"

Her dimples replied.

"I am flattered. Mario, my assistant has made a special effort on our behalf. Let us make this session memorable, shall we?" Mario stopped licking her shoes and looked up. "Now Mario, I said investigate. I did not say cover with saliva. I think some correction is in order here." Mario did not look at all abashed. " Now investigate, but nothing more than an occasional nip."

I continued to unbutton Cynthia's top. After the tiny pearls at the throat were more normal buttons down the front. Those complete, I was able to see a front opening underwire bra. Obviously Cynthia recalled being restrained with her hands behind her, and wanted to make removing the top somewhat easier. Accordingly, I opened the bra, pulled the tail of the shirt up, and "Hands my Dear.", slipped it off the back. For some reason a wooden hanger on the stretch bar seemed inevitable. Regardless, there it was. I put the top and the bra on the hanger and placed it back on the bar. Then I returned my attention to Mario.

He had forsaken the shoes for something more pungent. His head was up her skirt at about the level of the panties, if there were any. I would not take bets either way. Easily discovered however, so I lifted the skirt. Underneath I found an exquisitely embroidered garter and plain cotton panties. Evidently she did not plan to use these again. So, "Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Off came the garter stays. I rolled the panties down a bit.

"Mario. Please remove the panties."

He grabbed them with his teeth. I would not be shocked to if that a few pubic hairs went with it. Cynthia made no sound.

"My Dear, assist him." One after the other, she lifted her amazing legs, and off came the panties. I could clearly see the moisture on the lips.

"Mario, I believe you know how to attend to a glistening pubis. Please do so, while I prepare your discipline." I gave him one brief shot in the ass with a paddle. It was clear that something heavier was required.

Mario wasted no time. In short order he was buried in cunt. I dropped the skirt to give him some privacy. With the mask I could not read Cynthia's expression as I took up the whip. I may not have been able to in any event. I waited until Mario had her properly primed. It did not take long. She was turning red from the effort to stay silent.

"Whack." One full across Mario's exposed ass. He let out a yelp.

"Oh dear. I feel I have failed. I distinctly remember telling you not to verbalize. That is most decidedly true during discipline. Something must be done concerning this. But, for the moment we will concern ourselves with my assistant. She deserves a reward. I expect you to provide it." "Whack." Mario plunged into his work with a will. It appeared that eating pussy was to his liking.

Cynthia was different. She was allowed to see what she would receive. I gave her a full wind up before I let the whip fall on her luscious breasts. "Whack." The pattern of red against the pale of her breasts was lovely. I was hoping the pictures would come out well.

"Whack."

"Whack." One each. I could see that Mario was doing his job. I would not leave a glistening crotch this time.

"Whack."

"Whack." One across the ass and one across the breasts. Cynthia was getting close. I wanted this for myself anyway. I leaned down and sucked on the nipple of her breast. A moan.

"Oh my Dear. You were doing so well. Well here goes…" "Whack." Full across the breasts with one strand straying up to the cheek. I hoped it would not mark her for later. Once again I put my mouth to her breasts. This time I licked the welt and blew on it. Her nipple puckered.

"Whack."

"Whack."

That did it. Cynthia locked her jaw in anticipation of the coming wave. She went red all over from the effort. Her body shook with the orgasm. But not a sound.

"Mario, that will suffice. I hope you learned from my assistant's example. With one minor exception, she performed flawlessly. I hope you aspire to this level in the future. My Dear, you may retire to wash up. Mario we have a little task between us."

I led him by his leash to the restraint wall. I placed the penis ring and fastened him securely. Five strokes with the whip across his chest and belly caused his penis to turn purple, but little else. One stroke across the thighs caused him to shiver in the restraints. Three more strokes set up the finale, and I paused to let him see it coming. "Whack." The tenth blow fell across the penis and down to the scrotum. Semen fountained out. I reversed the whip and tapped him have the handle lightly on the side of the head.

"Mario. That concludes our session. I will be in, in a few minutes, to release you. On the whole I think it went well for a first session, but I would expect more if we were to meet again." He made no reply. He hung limp on the restraints. I would come back, but I wanted to check on Cynthia.

She was in a strange humor.

"Damn Sean, I'm glad I haven't pissed you off."

"My Dear, would you believe me if I tell you I only follow where you lead?"

"Then I must give you some map."

"Let us not forget your reward." I held up the two strings of beads. "I have not yet given you these."

Whatever makes a situation funny, this one amused her. She was still laughing when I went to release Mario.