Saint Sebastian's Choir

He had asked her to leave the side door to the cathedral unlocked and to wait for him in the loft. It was not the first time they had met so Emmy was comfortable with this arrangement. She was sitting at the Farfisa pipe organ playing Bach, a warm-up piece she could have played in her sleep. The creak of the heavy loft door brought her out of her daydream but keeping her eyes down and continued to play.

"Good afternoon, Emmy." She loved his voice, dark, low, as if emanating from one of the wooden, organ pipes. "Are you ready to begin?

"Yes, Daniel, I am ready." He never commanded her to do anything only asked her, requested.

"As if," she thought, "as if there was really any room for choice;" she knew she would do anything this man asked.

She stopped playing when she felt his strong hands on her shoulders. The soft fleece of the black blindfold as it slid it over her head pressing softly against her eyelids. Then his deft fingers were at the buttons of her white cotton blouse. She was not wearing a bra so the air-conditioned chill caressed her naked flesh as he opened it. Sliding his hands up her sides and under her breasts, he rolled her now extended nipples between his fingers and thumbs, working them as if he thought they might secrete milk. She loved his hands too. It was his hands that first attracted her as she watched him work.

"Wait while I prepare for you, Emmy."

Yes, Daniel." Emmy sunk back into the warm pool of memory she had been swimming in before he arrived.

[[[[[[ O ]]]]]]

Emmy wondered when she had begun to lie in confession. She first began weaving webs when she realized the "...impure thoughts," she reluctantly admitted to when she was younger had resolved into more kinky and compelling desires. She masturbated to fantasies of exhibitionism and submission. Being the organ player at Saint Sebastian's Cathedral required active participation in the church social life and this made it difficult, to say the least, for Emmy to explore her libidinous desires. She dated some of the "local eligible bachelors" but it was so complicated trying to find trustworthy men to whom she could reveal herself. Shy, thirty-seven and single, Emmy Margolis found it impossible to find any degree of anonymity in this small Ohio city. She had resigned herself to the idea that her secret desires were destined to remain fantasies.

She had experimented with self-bondage after finding a dedicated website. At the instruction of an on-line mentor, Emmy had frozen her house key and the key to a newly purchased pair of handcuffs in a block of ice. On that particular night she trembled as she snapped the cuffs and stepped naked over the threshold of her front door. She had previously set the locks at the front and back doors. Her backyard was reasonably secluded but the thought of being seen by a passing driver or a late-night stroller thrilled her as she made her way out to the edge of her back lawn to retrieve the frozen tub of ice. She hadn't realized that the ice would take so long to melt in that late September chill but the danger of being seen was so invigorating. On that chilly night she held the frozen ice against her nipples until they burned. There had been other experiments and they too had been satisfying but nothing came close to the intensity she longed for in a real partner.

Emmy had found ways to timidly experiment in real time, with real people too. Saint Sebastian's High School Boy's Choir practiced in the loft twice a week and Emmy played for those practices. Emmy's serious spectacled look and simple style of dress masked the secret fires building beneath her surface. Speaking of surfaces, Emmy was attractive; she had been blessed with her mother's voluptuous figure and soft blond hair and she was pretty. She was the fancy of many an adolescent choirboy's eye and she got positively wet knowing all those hungry eyes were glued to every inch of her body.

In that bevy of hungry faces there were a few that stood out to Emmy. Johnny Thomas, tall, lanky, varsity swim team star, had one of the best voices. He was quiet, well mannered and kept to himself but she had noticed the way he looked at her. Emmy noticed because she liked looking at him. Johnny Thomas was a looker. He was also more mature than the others. He looked and acted older; he didn't snicker or sneer--putting on airs to hide his fear and inexperience. Another face she noticed was Todd Blake. Blake was the opposite, a student who was introduced to each new teacher with warnings and accounts of his notorious behavior problems.

Emmy was normally a composed organist but having this appreciative audience brought out her theatrical side. She knew every curve of her wrist or gesture of her shapely leg was a feast for these boys, so Emmy took the opportunity to subtly exaggerate her movements before them. She chose her clothing for these days; skirts that would show more of her legs or present a tantalizing view of her shapely ass (another gift from her mother.) She selected bras and blouses that accentuated her zaftig breasts. She always set the bench back a little more when the choirboys would be in the loft. It gave them a better view of her slender ankles because the Farfisa required as much pedal work as at the keyboard.

One hot August day she prepared carefully—she had shaved her shapely legs to a fine smoothness and splurged on a pedicure at the Asian parlor at the Mall. She played soulfully that day, articulating her movements until she knew she held all their hungry eyes at ransom. Then she slipped her feet out of her shoes, stretched and wiggled her newly pedicured toes and began to play bare-footed. The choirboys squirmed and shifted in their seats for a better view, or maybe for relief from their aching erections. From all outward appearances Emmy looked to be wrapped in her music but in her minds eye she was enjoying an out of body experience--floating above the loft watching herself playing the Farfisa, naked for these young boys, naked for Johnny Thomas and bad boy Blake.

Emmy had met Daniel Hobson in the loft when he was there to assess the condition of the Farfisa Organ. He had stayed to hear her play the organ under normal conditions. The choirboys came shuffling in and Emmy became nervous about Daniel being there at the same time. She played through her set and tried to will her mind and body to play it straight. She was the picture of propriety as she took the Farfisa through its paces but her good behavior did nothing to quiet the boys' interest. Daniel was quick to recognize the lust in the looks the boys directed towards Emmy. It was this that first led him to take an interest in the organ player as well as the organ that day.

Though no one would have complained because they had adapted to the organ's slow degeneration, it practically hurt Daniel's ears to listen to this valuable instrument perform so badly. This led to the eventual decision that Saint Sebastian's grand old pipe organ needed extensive refurbishing. Daniel was commissioned to restore the Cathedral organ and, as its principal player, Emmy was appointed to oversee the restoration project. Immediately drawn to this quiet, older man, Emmy took it as license to visit his studio more times than was probably necessary. She watched him work carefully rebuilding each of the hundred wooden pipes, one by one. They took lunches together on those days when she visited. During those months Emmy's attraction to the organ technician grew until she had began to fantasize about his hands working on her pipes.

After the restoration was complete Daniel had invited Emmy to accompany him to a pipe organ restoration convention in Chicago. He told her it was a city of churches and there would be a tour of some of the most magnificent pipe organs in the country.

"You may even have the opportunity to lay your hands on an exceptional organ, Emmy."

"I've always wanted to get my hands E. M. Skinner's pipes," she responded.

"Ahh, the finest example of a historic grand organ, it's at Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church. It will be a highlight of the conference." Emmy looked at him trying to decide.

Then he added, "Emmy you aren't the only organist dying to get your hands on Skinner's Organ."

They both laughed at the little exchange and Emmy accepted his invitation. The conference sounded great but Emmy was secretly thrilled at the thought of being out of town, out of Saint Sebastian's sight with this man whom she was beginning to like and, more importantly, trust.

The trip finally arrived and it turned out to be a fabulous three days; the conference had exceeded their expectations. They had seen and heard some of the finest organs in the country; the technical workshops in the afternoons were informative and well organized. Emmy took one of those as an opportunity to peruse some of the nicer women's apparel shops looking for something sexy she might wear while out of town.

They both wanted their last night in Chicago to be a special celebration. So they decided to dress up and dine at the hotel's showcase restaurant. After drinks in the bar they enjoyed an intimate last dinner over which they abandoned all the sexual innuendo they had been swapping for days and engaged in a direct conversation. Daniel was a good listener; his gentle responses and subtle questions led Emmy to open up to him. They sat, leaning into the candle's yellow glow; the warmed aromatic brandy worked its magic.

"Emmy," Daniel all but whispered, "I've watched you with the choirboys."

"Their voices are quite good for their limited training; don't you think," Emmy responded nervously.

"That's not what I meant, Emmy"

"They are so sweet."

"You enjoy their lust don't you? You thrive on knowing every one of those young men is devouring you with his eyes."

She stared at him then looked away nervously. "...They are so clumsy, aren't they?"

"I understand, Emmy. You can trust me."

Emmy let the last vestiges of her guard down; maybe the alcohol had loosened her speech, maybe it was that Daniel was older than she and she felt trustful, maybe she was just longing for a confessor but Emmy told Daniel everything. She told him about her frustrations of being single in such a tight community. She told him about her increasing sexual appetite, about teasing the choirboys; she even told him about her frustrated efforts to explore self-bondage. Daniel listened intently and when it seemed that Emmy had emptied her longing heart on the table he took her hands in his and spoke five little words that she has never forgotten.

"Emmy, I can show you things."

They were spoken in his characteristic low speech, not loud enough for anyone nearby to hear but to Emmy those words, "I can show you things," vibrated down into her belly like a bass note from the Farfisa. She felt like she was having a panic attack; her eyes welled with tears, breath fell short and she dizzied in a rush of heat. She couldn't form a reply; she just lowered her eyes. Daniel never let go of her hand as they stood, exited the restaurant and headed for the elevators.

Daniel was masterful on that first night, unwrapping her passions and desires until she surrendered herself into his deft hands. Emmy didn't want to slowly slip from making love to other things. She didn't want to be worshipped or cruelly treated and knew she didn't want to have to explain herself, her needs, to him. As if read her mind, as soon as the door closed in that softly lit hotel room he kissed her tenderly, held her close and hard till her pounding heartbeat settled and then stepped back form her.

"Remove your clothes, Emmy," he had said to her. And, as if entranced, she complied, first opening her new sheer blouse and dropping it from her shoulders, then her sexy pinfold skirt. She slid it down her thighs and stepped over it, towards him. But Daniel stepped back. "Remove your bra, Emmy." And she did, slowly unclasping it and sliding it from her shoulders. "And you panties, Emmy."

Naked, in front of him, she felt a shameless exhilaration. He reached for the thinly upholstered chair beside them and slid it towards her. "Sit down, Emmy." Daniel loosened his silk necktie and removed it. He stepped behind her and placed it around her head, covering her eyes. He tied a soft knot behind her head.

He skillfully bound her to the chair, taking all his time tying each wrist and ankle to chair's polished arms and legs. He stood up and surveyed his work, then began to add bindings until her breasts were bound and lewdly presented. Emmy experienced a blissful surrender that first night as he lightly stroked and teased her. He took her to a level of arousal she had never known possible. When she was clearly responding to him he led her through a series of instructions that spoke directly to her sense of theatrics.

"Show me how you resist your bindings--struggle with them, Emmy."

His urgings made her feel beautiful and free, feelings that were amplified by her suppressed desires. She struggled against her bonds then relaxed, as if resigned to her plight then began struggling again. It was a dance for Emmy and she relished the power she felt in her submission to Daniel. After what seemed like an hour of this taunting and tantalizing he untied her and brought her to the bed. He showed her other things, coaxed her towards her release through teasing and denial. He altered her bindings and positions until she was smoldering in her passions. By the time he released her she was drenched with sweat and dripping between her legs. He caressed her and held her till she calmed. But she didn't calm, she wanted more. She pleaded with him, tried to seduce him but he resisted and taunted her further. Then Daniel did something surprising.

"Would you go and get a bucket of ice for us, Emmy?" She was not sure what he had wanted. She resisted this untimely request and when she realized it was part of his plan, she reached for her blouse.

"No, Emmy, I want you to go as you are." It was very late by now and the prospect of someone else on the floor was slim but, never the less, the chill of terror at the thought of this public embarrassment shocked her like a slap. It was also exactly what she wanted and needed. Emmy lowered her eyes and nodded her agreement.

The door closed with a silent mechanical click and, maybe just to further terrify her, he turned the privacy lock and even fastened the security clasp. There was never a more frightening moment or a more exhilarating one as when she found herself standing outside the door of the fourteenth room on the fourteenth floor in this strange city, naked and still wet with lustful excitement. Daniel had made her wear her shoes out of some ironic sense of propriety, but being naked while wearing her high heels only made her feel more naked. She began the journey down the long hall of doors but as she got further from room 1414 she began to thrill in her own sense of adventure. Finally, she made it to the ice machine. She shuddered from the frosty chill at her tummy as she opened the door and filled the bucket to the brim with mechanically shaped cubes. Though it was a shock she hugged it to her breasts remembering her night in her own backyard. It burned, it felt good, she almost peed herself; and then she turned and clicked out of the utility area back towards the carpeted corridors. Several times she was startled by sounds coming from behind one of the doors she passed on her way along the empty corridors. Once she even stopped to listen to a couple's passionate lovemaking. She was proud of herself for completing her mission but a new terror swept down on her. She found the door to 1414 was still locked.

"Daniel," she hoarsely whispered, "open this door...please, open the door." Just as she felt like she was going to cry, the door cracked open but only to the limit of the security clasp. She saw him walking away from the door. "Daniel, what are you doing?"

He picked up the phone and spoke into it, "yes, I'd like a bottle your best vodka and some Rose's Lime juice brought up to 1414. Thank you. Can you do that promptly?"

He tormented her with this new humiliation even after she heard the distant sound of the elevator door opening--the room service attendant's footsteps on the soft carpet, the glass tinkling as he wheeled his cart toward their room. Just as he was about to make the last turn into her corridor Daniel opened the door and Emmy dove for the stripped bed. She managed to retrieve the single sheet from the floor and cover herself as the young man entered their room. The bellhop did a double take at the sight of Emmy's voluptuous figure, all the more enticing beneath the thin sheet. Emmy watched the bellhop slowly set up the service; he stole leering glances at her while he worked. Only when the last napkin was delicately folded and placed did Daniel speak.

"Do you know how to mix a Gimlet?"

"No Sir, I'm sorry but I don't."

"I'll teach you then; it's a simple recipe--one part Lime Juice, two parts of the Grey Goose and a teaspoon of confectioner's sugar. We don't have the powdered sugar but you'll find sugar packets with the coffee set-up on the table there."

"Yes Sir." The bellhop tried to hide his smile as he began to mix the drinks.

"Oh you will have to melt that sugar before you add it. You don't want to feel the grittiness with your first sip. Good, now stir all the ingredients with ice and strain it into three glasses."

Emmy was beginning to get comfortable in Daniel's little charade. She felt the same moist excitement, as when she played with her beautiful choirboys only now she really was naked beneath the sheet. When the drinks were made the bellhop just continued to leer at Emmy.

"Emmy, would you taste it and tell us how our friend rates as a barman?"

The bellhop wore a tentative look as if waiting for her approval as he handed her the drink. Emmy purposely let the sheet drop to her waist as she reached for the drink. She lingered allowing him to stare at her full breasts and jutting nipples as she swilled the icy sweet/sour concoction. Her eyes fell to the bulge in the bellhop's pants and then she raised her knees to partially conceal herself again.

"mmmmm, he's perfect, Daniel, absolutely delicious."

"Good, I thought you would like this, Emmy," and turning to the bellhop, "drink up, man, you deserve a treat for such excellent service."

Daniel took his time signing the bill giving the bellhop time to down his Gimlet. Emmy, trembling with excitement, gulped her drink as fast as he did. Then Daniel dropped another bomb on Emmy's delicate libido.

"Emmy, I don't seem to have any cash. Can you get me something for this nice young man's efforts?" She turned from warm pink to deep crimson in an instant as she realized that Daniel wanted to push this farther.

"I'm not sure I have any cash," she mumbled.

"Of course you do. I saw you put it in your purse this afternoon." Emmy wasn't sure she could go where she thought Daniel was now trying to take her but she swallowed her panic and rustled her legs out from beneath the sheet and over the edge of the bed. Last-minute weakness caused her take the sheet with her. She languidly stood, drew the sheet around her and began to walk across the room--two steps before the sheet resisted her progress. Emmy pulled awkwardly then looked back; Daniel had stepped on the tail of the sheet. Emmy saw that Daniel was not going to let her spoil the opportunity he knew she craved. She very casually looked back at the bellhop and then, with a simple shrug of her shoulders, Emmy Margolis dropped the last of her inhibition and stepped out from beneath her protection. She walked slowly across the room savoring the heat in the young man's eyes and the admiration in Daniel's. She reached the low chest of drawers. Looking down into her bag gave her a moment to muster another dose of courage for what she knew would come next.