LV

The piece of paper on the counter was not unusual in itself; my house mate often left notes. Usually they were about things like "I bought laundry soap" or "dinner is in the fridge – heat on high for 3 minutes." In the 5 years we had shared this 3-bedroom house, she had never, ever had a request. That is exactly what made the note really catch my attention.

"Jake, as you know I travel a lot for my company, and clients travel to us. The stupid new girl they hired to replace Rebecca screwed up and double booked the company condo. Both clients are extremely important and we can't afford to lose either one. My boss requested I find an alternative place for the client coming alone. Unfortunately, this is the weekend of the big convention and all hotels are booked and then some! I would like to discuss with you the idea of allowing this client to stay in the guest bedroom here. It will only be for about one night. I'm in the area today so call me when you get this note. Thanks, Megan."

I called Megan and gave her my blessing. I reminded her I was going on a short fishing trip and wouldn't be back until Wednesday morning. She said that was fine, the client came in Wednesday morning and would not be at the house until Wednesday afternoon, after meetings. "I'll take care of everything, Jake, cleaning the room and such – thank you so much – she is a major VIP and I thought my boss was going to have an aneurysm over the condo mess!"

Wednesday morning, I did not get home from my trip until 10am. Exhausted, I barely had time to note the luggage on the four-poster bed in the guest room. My brain quickly calculated the dove gray and lavender décor, but a very prominent, scrolled "LV" on the side of the large bag gave me pause. Great, I thought, a snob – only snobs have Louis Vitton luggage for a day long business trip. Shaking my head, I went to my own room and, stripping naked, fell asleep as soon as I was under the covers.

I woke, several hours later, to a faint humming noise. Opening one eye, I realized it was my cell phone, indicating I had a message. As I punched the numbers to retrieve the voice mail, I noted it was almost 6pm. A glance at the window confirmed I had slept most of the day – there was hardly any light left outside. Such is the life of the recently retired, as my message center reminded me to press one for new messages.

"Jake, I have to hostess a small dinner party tonight – the boss found out it's the other client's wife's birthday, and insisted we have a celebration. EYE ROLL. Can anything more happen?! Veronica – that's *my* guest – has been let in and showed her room and bathroom. She already ate dinner and assured me she is content to just relax and read and rest. Her flight leaves early in the morning, and the company car will pick her up. Thanks again – sorry, but my cell phone has to be turned off – see you Thursday. Oh, and Veronica can be a bit – different. Just feel her out, you'll be fine."

Megan is the only person I know who can convey more in a 30 second message than most people can in a 5 minute, face-to-face conversation. I could not ask for a better house mate, but her work kept her busy an average of 80 hours a week. I knew she was the head of the products division for her company, but she had requested I not ask her which one, due to privacy concerns. I figured it had to do with copyrights and trade secrets and always honored her wish.

I was about to go to the kitchen when I remembered I had a houseguest. I pulled on a pair of shorts and ran my fingers through my hair to tame it a little. The thermostat kept the house at a comfortable temperature, so I didn't bother with a shirt. I wouldn't have bothered with any clothing if I had been home alone – my motto is "everything's better naked!" Scratch that – frying bacon, naked – not a good idea. Suddenly, a BLT sounded like a good snack, and I left my bedroom to head down the hall.

As I approached the kitchen, I noticed a lady stretched out on the couch in the living room, reading a book. Clearing my throat to warn her of my presence, I decided I should introduce myself before appeasing my hunger. She turned her face toward me and smiled, standing up to greet me. We shook hands.

"I'm Jake, Megan's housemate. Nice to meet you – Veronica, is that right?" She had a warm hand and a firm grasp, and her nicely manicured nails were airbrushed – I could not distinguish the characters. Her hands were smooth on the back but I felt small calluses on her palm. They did not detract from her femininity at all, and I was suddenly glad I was wearing shorts.

She was perhaps an inch or two taller than me, with straight black hair that fell smoothly to her mid back. Her flawless complexion told me she was careful when she went into the sun – miles of creamy skin, just colored enough to look healthy. The contrast to the dark hair was an incredible visual – and then I looked into her eyes. Pewter, I thought – that is the only color I could liken those eyes to. Dark eyelashes, a perfectly straight nose and full lips set in a heart shaped face with high cheekbones – this was a beautiful woman, and I tried not to stare blatantly. She was wearing a black halter top and red cutoff sweat pants that showed off her curves – soft and beautiful, they just barely hinted at an underlying strength. She goes to the gym to stay in shape, not body-build, I thought. The pants ended just above her calves, showing smooth, curved skin and bare feet. Her feet – as pretty as the rest of her, I thought. I wondered what it would be like to tickle them a little, or feel them wrapped around my –

"It's very nice to meet you, Jake, thank you for allowing me to stay in your home." She released my hand and indicated the room with an open, careless gesture. "This is beautiful; I can see why Megan enjoys living here. Is very relaxing, no?" She had a slight accent that told me English was not her first language, although she spoke it nearly flawlessly. "I appreciate your hospitality and will try to be no trouble." A sincere smile revealed even, white teeth behind the full red lips. My brain was uncooperative, wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips, or have them wrapped around my –

"Uh" I stuttered "sure, no problem, glad it all worked out for you. I am going to fix myself a BLT, would you like one?" I turned away so she would not see my erection growing in my shorts. I moved toward the kitchen, and heard her footsteps fall in behind me on the carpet.

"What is this, BLT, you speak of? Forgive me, I am from a small region in Europe, my English is not – how you say – perfect. I don't always understand the American dialect. As long as BLT is not alcohol, I will try – I cannot drink before a flight, I get very bad" she paused for a moment "headache." She seated herself opposite the island cook top as I began pulling out ingredients.

I could not stop staring at her chest. Those gorgeous mounds made the thought of food flee completely from my mind, and I stumbled onto the first excuse I could think of. "Megan left me a message that you already ate. I am not really that hungry; and you shouldn't eat if you aren't, either." My eyes never left the shadow between her breasts, and I noticed that her nipples were hard underneath the halter top. I was very glad I was behind the stove as my cock got another rush.

Something in her eyes changed, and Veronica leaned forward, affording me a better view. "You like my breasts, yes?" I wanted to take a step back, but all I could do was nod my agreement. I felt like a bobble head doll, and about as intelligent, as she continued. She slowly untied the halter from her neck, and let the front fall off. One breast was hidden by her shining hair, the other stared at me directly, the pointed nipple even harder in the cool air. "You'd like to lick my nipples, wouldn't you?" Her voice was husky but there was an edge to it, something I couldn't quite identify. 'Let's go to my room, Jake, and make a memory of this night."

It was all I could do to not run gleefully down the hall. Instead, I reached for her hand with mine, and as we walked towards her room, she brushed the front of my shorts lightly with her hand. "Oh, I think you'd like a little more than just to see and touch my body." Her giggle had the same edge as we pressed our bodies together and stepped through the doorway of her room. She used one foot to kick the door shut, and I grabbed to lay her on the bed.

She danced gracefully out of my grasp and – none too gently – pushed me down until I was seated on the edge of the four poster bed. I noticed several things at once:

•There were silk scarves draped at each corner of the bed

•The large suitcase with LV on the side was on the floor, lid open

•It was full of an incredible array of sex toys and magazines

•My cock was pressing uncomfortably against the cold zipper of my shorts

What the hell have I gotten in to? I barely had time to mentally question myself when Veronica's voice cut into my hazy thinking. She was standing directly in front of me, halter top still loose and showing the edges of an unusual looking bra. Her face had changed – still beautiful, I thought, but something –

Maybe it was the short black leather whip in her hand?

"Listen up, Jake. From this moment forward, you will address me as Lady Veronique. You will do only as I say, exactly as I tell you, or there will be consequences. If you do not call me by the name I have instructed, or if I perceive that you are rude, there will be consequences. Do you know what this is?" She held the leather piece in her left hand and drew it across her right – I noticed she was now wearing an unusual looking pair of black and red gloves, with the fingers cut out. She caressed the whip, slowly brought it to her lips, and the tip of her tongue snaked out to slowly intertwine briefly with the tip. It was the most erotic thing I had seen – well, at that point in time, anyway.

She smacked the whip firmly on the bed beside me, startling me. I blinked and stared at her. "Yes, it's a whip." My words sounded lame, and were apparently NOT what she wanted as an answer.

"NO!" With an easy movement of her wrist, she flicked the whip and it touched the skin just above the waistband of my shorts. I felt no pain, but instinctively moved to cover my erection from any possible harm. "This is a riding crop, and I will use it as I see fit. Now, what is this?" She held the instrument dangerously close to my face, and I could barely stammer my answer.

"It's a riding crop, Lady Veronique." Apparently my pea-brain had kicked in the correct answer, and a small smile played her lips. I removed my hands from my crotch, sensing I was in no danger of becoming a eunuch. She moved closer to me and I could smell – the scent of her soap, I think, light and clean – and a musky, heavier smell, the two intermingling and creating a pleasant atmosphere. She pushed my shoulders down onto the bed and straddled me, her face less than an inch from mine. She lowered her lips to mine and kissed me with a force and passion I would not have thought possible from her. I began to return the kiss and she immediately pulled off.

"I did not tell you to kiss me back. Lay flat on your back, in the middle of the bed. You must be punished." Dumbfounded, my body did as she demanded, my brain doing – absolutely nothing. Not one protest from even a single befuddled brain cell. It was as if my entire free thinking process had shut down, and a complex recording system had taken over. "Spread your arms and legs to the four corners of the bed." She quickly moved from one corner to the next, securing each wrist and each ankle with one of the many scarves draped around the posts. She was so sure of her movements that she did not bother to test the knots.

"Now, what should your punishment be?" Again with the honeyed voice, as she climbed on the bed and knelt between my spread legs. The zipper rubbed my erect, twitching cock and I was hoping I wouldn't have a raw spot from the pressure and friction. "Whatever you desire, Lady Veronique." Who the hell said that? I wondered, even as I realized – there was no one else here, duh, had to have come from my mouth! I tried to pull one hand free, to loosen the zipper, but the knots held tight. My heart rate increased as she raised the whip. No, my brain frantically corrected, riding crop! I closed my eyes as the crop came down through the air ... once ... twice ... three times ... a total of five times, I heard the whistle and felt a slight pinch, then sudden release of material. I cautiously opened my eyes, to stare directly into Lady Veronique's eyes, which were no more than four inches from mine.

"I am an expert handler. You may look and see; there is not even a red mark on you." I looked down, expecting to see shredded skin and free-flowing blood. Instead, all I saw were the tattered remains of my shorts, which she deftly removed from my body and tossed on the floor. My cock stood up, stiff and proud, and ... hopeful. I could not believe she had shredded my shorts off me without even marking my skin.

She spotted the few drops of pre-cum that had oozed out the tip, and frowned. "During your encounter with me, you absolutely will not cum until I give you permission. You are not allowed to do anything without my strict instructions. If you fail to do as I say, your punishment will increase. If you cum before I give you permission, the consequences will be most grave." She carelessly flicked the liquid away with her fingers, the slight contact making me twitch more.

"There are several things you will be required to do, and I am quite certain you haven't done many of them. The first thing you will do is watch, as I stimulate myself and derive some pleasure. She pushed a pillow beneath my head and reseated herself directly in front of my, again between my legs. She stripped off the halter top and I was able to see the bra she was wearing. Unusual design, the material cut away from her nipples to show them clearly. Her full breasts practically begged to fall out of the constraining, crisscross design. It wasn't really material, I thought, as much as some cleverly sewn strips of fabric. I recognized leather, satin and velvet as she reached for her left breast. Arching her neck gracefully, she slowly licked around the areola, while her fingers played with her other nipple. She pulled her left nipple into her mouth and worried the nipple gently with her teeth, lightly pinching the right one in sync with her mouth movements. She alternated breasts and repeated this several times. She seemed to have forgotten I was even there, as she closed her eyes, let her head fall back, and firmly pinched, pressed and rolled those beautiful nipples. They seemed to grow harder and harder with each movement. I know I was.

She opened her eyes and gazed lazily at my body. "Do you think you can do that, for me?" she questioned softly. Even as I stammered that I would like to try, she was crawling up my nude body, pressing her still-clad crotch area against my cock. She did not stop until her breasts were at my mouth.

"Right one first, Jake. My left breast is more sensitive, and I am trying to make them equals." I reached up with my mouth, then thought better of it.

"May I use my mouth to please your right nipple, areola and breast, Lady Veronique?" She smiled and granted permission, still grinding her hips to mine. I started by swirling my tongue around the nipple, then the areola, then took as much of the breast into my mouth as I could, and sucked – gently at first, then with increasing pressure. I repeated the process a few times, then released her breast.

"May I do the same for your left breast, Lady Veronique?"

"You learn quickly, Jake. Yes, and you may be a little rougher and faster – I am close to coming and I want to soak my pants against your cock. Remember though – you are not yet allowed to come." She placed the breast in front of my lips, and I did as she said, but suckled a little harder and longer, a little faster – and felt my balls tighten even more as she came. I felt a rush of heat and then damp as she gave a small moan and had a small orgasm. I released the nipple from my mouth as she pulled away. My twitching cock betrayed me with a few more drops of cum, which she brushed roughly against her sweatpants.

"It is not your turn, yet, Jake. I am the one in charge here, and I always have to cum at least three times before I grant permission for my partner to cum." She slid off my body and let the riding crop fall to the floor, next to the bed. "Now, I will show you what it feels like to have your nipples played with." She moved back up my body, studying and tracing my tattoos with her hands and fingernails. When she reached my nipples, she straddled my waist and began toying with them. She massaged and rolled and played and poked, then moved so her chest was on my stomach, and took one nipple into her mouth. A few swirls of the tongue and I felt my cock jump again, and strain harder as she licked, suckled and nibbled. She gently took the nipple between her teeth, and mimicking what she had done to herself, worried and very, very gently bit it. Bright red with the treatment, she left it to minister the same to the other nipple. The heat of her lower body against mine was becoming unbearable, and I jumped when she finished by biting the other nipple. She ran her tongue from my nipples, down to my belly button, then lower. Finally, I thought, she is going to suck me off and –

Cool air abruptly washed over me as she peeled her body off mine. "How many times must I cum, before I will give you permission?" Her edgy voice had returned, and her eyes pierced mine with their intensity. She began to reach for the riding crop and I was able to find my voice.

"Three times, Lady Veronique. I must make you cum at least three times before you will grant me permission to cum." My voice sounded thick, yet squeaky. She gave me a small look of disgust as she climbed off the bed. Slowly, she peeled off the red sweatpants to reveal what little she had on, underneath. The fabric that made up the pseudo-bra continued down her body, forming an elaborate design around her hips, buttocks and upper thighs. There were several metal snaps and loops, and I assumed they held the contraption together. I noticed she was completely free of hair, not even stubble – she must have shaved recently. The straps formed a frame of sorts around her pussy, and the smell of her was stronger now.

"I am going to require you to put forth some effort, now, Jake. You will again watch me as I begin to pleasure myself." She resumed her position between my legs, propping herself at an angle on some of the pillows. The pillow under my head was moved so I did not have to strain to watch. I did have to move my head to one side – my dick was obstructing my view. A few more drops of my cum had oozed out the top, I noticed – and so did she.

Reaching with her finger, she collected the liquid and settled back against the pillows. Knees bent, feet flat on the bed, she slowly spread her pussy lips open with one hand, and inserted the moistened finger to trace the area. "Do you like what I am doing to myself? I am already hot and moist, perhaps I should see just how horny and ready I am?" Somewhere along the line, she had apparently arranged some of the items from her suitcase within easy reach, and now she took two of these items. Before I knew what was happening, she had placed a frozen ring around the base of my cock! It tried to wilt under the cold, but the pressure kept me hard – and it also kept me from coming. Frustrated and helpless against the knotted scarves, I could only watch her next moves. Still tracing her pussy lips with one finger, she slowly inserted a finger from her other hand into the depths of her pussy. Out, then in again, out, then in again, each time a little deeper. She rolled her head back and inhaled deeply. Spreading her pussy open with her left hand, and working her clit with her left thumb, she resumed finger-fucking herself with her right hand, using two fingers. The pattern repeated and her breathing became more labored, until she suddenly rubbed her clit hard and plunged her fingers into herself as far as they would go. I saw her shaking with the effort to please herself, and thought she would go any second, when her eyes flew open, briefly met mine, then fell on my hard, ringed cock.