Saturday Afternoon At Claire's

My story was going nowhere. I'd been working on it at night for several weeks, writing a page or two at a time, deleting most, keeping only a fraction of what I started with. But I was having a lot of trouble writing the female character. I just couldn't get into her mindset.

I wasn't proud of what I was doing, but I was working on an adult fiction story for a fetish magazine that I'd bought at the newsstand a couple of months earlier. It was filled with all sorts of kinky stuff like tickling, bondage, feet, leather, you name it. I'd noticed an ad near the back of the magazine indicating they were looking for writers to contribute stories to their publication. The mention that there was money to be paid for such a project was all it took to get me started.

I'd relayed my little scheme to a female friend of mine via email. I hadn't mentioned it to my girlfriend, as her idea of kinky is doing it on a Thursday night instead of Saturday. My email penpal, Claire, thought that this was a fun and truly interesting venture to undertake. She didn't even question the type of magazine I was writing for; she and I had few secrets. I had emailed her several pages of my work, and she seemed quite interested. One night about two weeks ago I emailed her in frustration, explaining to her how much trouble I was having with the female character in the story.

The story was supposed to be about a young woman who experiences bondage and tickling for the first time with her husband who has been reading about such things on the internet. I really wanted to capture her tension and anxiety, but it just wasn't there.

The email that came back from Claire that night was simple and to the point. It said, "Look, if you're having that much trouble writing a female character, why don't I help you? Come over Saturday afternoon and we'll work on it together. My roommate goes to work from noon till 8. Be there sometime after 12. See you then. Claire."

I emailed back a quick reply. Later that night I mentioned to my girlfriend, Sarah, that I was going out for coffee with a friend on Saturday afternoon to talk about my novel. I was also working on a mainstream fiction novel, but it was going nowhere too. The little lie wasn't all that far from the truth.

Saturday afternoon came quite soon and I headed over to Claire's. I arrived around 12:30 or so, not wanting to have bumped into her roommate at 12. Claire answered the door dressed in what I thought was sort of strange attire for her. Claire is normally pretty casual, very often wearing jeans and simple t-shirts or sweaters. But this Saturday afternoon she was dressed as though she was going to teach a Sunday School class. She had on a long-sleeved white blouse, a dark patterned skirt that came to her ankles, and a pair of stern-looking 2" black pumps.

I said, "What's with the get-up Claire?"

"You want to write better female characters, don't you?" she replied.

"Ummmm... yeah, right, but..."

"Well then you'll need a good teacher. I figured I might as well look the part. Come on in."

I walked into the house and kicked off my running shoes. She gently took my hand and started leading me up the stairs that were not far from the front door.

"Where're we going?" I asked.

"To start working on your character."

We went upstairs and she guided me toward her roommates bedroom. I'd been to the house a couple times before and knew that Claire had the larger of the two rooms upstairs as her bedroom. She let me walk into the room first, but did not follow. On the bed were what seemed to be some lingerie and a few flimsy woman's clothes. I turned to question Claire about the meaning of all this. She held her finger up to her mouth to indicate silence.

"Get dressed." was all she said and she closed the door to the room, leaving me alone.

I surveyed my surroundings. I'd never been in this room before. It was the typical bedroom of a mid-twenties working woman, I guess. Everything we relatively tidy, with lots of feminine attributes to indicate who lived there. I looked at the clothes on the bed. They were laying over the foot of the bed, as though someone had been getting ready to dress after a bath. I delicately touched the fabrics. There seemed to be a lot of nylon and sheer materials. I was uncertain what to do. I knew Claire was a wonderful person and would never do anything to hurt me, so I suspected that whatever she had planned was probably going to be fun and educational at the same time.

After thinking about it for another minute or so I began to undress. I unzipped my jeans and let them fall to the floor. My t-shirt was next, followed by my socks. As I stripped out of my underwear I really began to wonder what I was doing. But Claire had been my good friend for several years and I knew she must have a good reason for all this. I suspected she wanted me to know what it felt like to dress up like a woman, and that this would somehow help me to write the character... so I started to get dressed. It could have been worse. At least I wasn't writing a story about a dog.

On top of the pile of clothes was a pair of sheer black nylon panties. They felt strange as I slipped them up and over my hips. oddly, Claire had put out a pair that were large enough to cover my penis, even though it was now nearly fully erect. Somehow the thought of this little adventure was starting to turn me on. I wondered if they were her roommates panties.

Next came the black bra. It was the opposite of the panties, quite small for either woman that lived in the house. I wondered where it came from. I had a hell of a time getting the hooks done up at the back, but using the mirror on the dresser I was finally able to manage. Next was a pair of plain black pantyhose.

I'd seen my girlfriend put on pantyhose before, so I knew enough to roll them up, one leg at a time onto my hand and step into the toe of them. Soon I was pulling them up over my legs and then my hips. Again, Claire had done very well, they seemed to fit nicely. They felt restricting in a way, but also sensuous.

There was a dark red blouse on the bed that I put on next. It was made of some sort of silk-like material that felt extremely nice against my skin. Next was the short plain black skirt. It wrapped around about 1 1/2 times and then did up at the waist with a hook. It barely covered my behind and I suspected it might even show off my panties if I weren't careful.

Finally a pair of 3 or 4 inch pumps sat on the floor at the very foot of the bed. I looked in before trying them on; a size 10 woman's. Once on my feet I realized Claire knew a lot more about me than I had realized.... the shoes also fit perfectly.

I stopped at the full-length mirror to see what I now looked like. There was no mistake about it. No matter how silky they felt, these clothes did NOT make me look like a woman.

I opened the door slowly, half expecting Claire to be waiting in the hallway with a camera. She wasn't... waiting with a camera that is, but she was waiting.

She smiled just enough for me to know that what I'd seen in the mirror was accurate.

"I guess I wouldn't win any Miss America pageants, would I?" I asked.

"Nope." she glibly replied. "Do you feel the least bit feminine though?"

I thought about it for a minute. "Feminine, yeah, I suppose. Not very lady-like though."

"How about vulnerable? Do you feel a little bit vulnerable?" she wondered in a slightly deeper voice.

"I think so... I guess, yes." I answered in a worried tone.

"Good, that's a great start. Let's go make you feel very vulnerable."

She lead me into her room. She closed the door behind us. I could hear quiet jazz music emminating from a tiny bookshelf stereo system. The room was quite dark for the middle of the afternoon, as she had deep maroon curtains pulled across the only window. Her next comment caught me a bit off guard.

"O.K., off with the skirt and the blouse. Leave the rest of it on."

"What? I just got dressed."

"I know. I'd rather have you wear it all day, but we don't have that kind of time. You want to know what your character feels like when she's tied and tickled don't you?"

"Yes, but........" I tried to bargain with her.

"But nothing. Strip down so I can get started on you."

I felt as though I had already come this far, and at this point had little to loose by going along with Claire's plans. I was nervous and quite anxious about what she might do to me, but at the same time I had a sexual curiosity that I couldn't fight. I started to remove the blouse. I dropped it onto a chair near the bed and then unhooked the skirt, letting it fall to the floor. As I stood there in the black lingerie I shook a bit from the nervousness. Claire seemed to sense this and slipped deeper into her 'teacher' character.

"How do you like those pantyhose?" she asked.

"They're... quite clingy. Pretty nice I guess."

"I was going to put you in stay-ups or stockings and a garter-belt, but I wanted you to feel just like a woman coming home from work on any ordinary day. And since pantyhose are sort of ordinary... well, you get the idea."

I nodded in agreement, a bit worried about not agreeing with Claire by this time.

"Why don't you lay down on the bed before you fall down."

I slowly sat down on the bed, then curled up into a relaxed fetal position.

"Not like that stupid. Get on your back, hands over your head. And spread those legs open." she commanded.

My co-operation was quickly forthcoming. I felt as though it might not be wise to piss Claire off. I wasn't sure how deep she was willing to go into her character.

Soon I found her kneeling next to my head at the top of the bed. She had just a hint of perfume on but had a natural and perfectly delicious smell about her. I'd never had a purely sexual thought about Claire, until that moment. She leaned over me and tied a long scarf of some kind over my eyes. She made me put my head on a small pillow and set about tying my hands to soft cotton ropes that she had pulled up from the corners of the bed. I could feel her pulling my arms as far from my body as possible, in order to exaggerate the position she was putting me in. When my arms were done she worked on my legs, once again stretching me to the limit of the bed and tying me tightly, but not such that the circulation was cut off. It wasn't long before I was securely tied in a spread-eagle position.... and feeling quite vulnerable.

"So you want to write a nice little fetish story huh? A little bondage? A little tickling? And you want to know how it feels to be a woman experiencing it for the first time, right? Well, get ready." Claire's voice was more sultry than I'd ever heard it. I could hear her, but couldn't see a thing, though I did hear her heels walking back and forth across the end of the bed. I heard them walk back up towards the top of the bed and stop.

"Most women don't have armpits quite as hairy as yours.... but I'm sure yours are just as ticklish as any woman." with that she ran a full hand of nails down the inside of my right arm, right through my armpit and down my right side. I strained a bit against the ropes in reaction. I tried not to say anything, but I think a small whimper sort of leaked out of my mouth.

"Not going to laugh when you're tickled? I wonder what it will take to get you to laugh?" she pondered aloud, then add, "I wonder what it will take to get you to beg me to stop?"

I tightened again, trying to pull my arms to my side, to no effect. Soon she was back at my right side, tickling my armpit again with her hand. This time it wasn't a casual pass, but rather a sustained and tormenting assault. I tried to resist laughing, but just couldn't. I worried that it would inspire her to continue, but the tickling was too severe. I let it out and heard her laugh a bit at me laughing.

"Oh, you *do* like that." she stopped tickling the right side and I heard her walk around the bed to the left side. Soon she was going at my left armpit and side in the same way, a spidery motion with her fingers, over and over. I couldn't help but starting laughing again, and this only seemed to make her tickle more. She continued for two or three more minutes on this area.

Claire took a break and I heard her walk to the end of the bed. I was still blindfolded at this point, with no hint that she would let me see what was happening before she wanted me to. I soon felt her slipping my heels off and letting the shoes drop to the floor. Now I felt even more vulnerable. My feet, now encased only in thin nylon, tied down so that they could be tortured by.... I felt Claire start to tickle them without saying a word. I broke into a giggle that I could not suppress. This seemed to spur Claire on and she started tickling both feet a the same time, running her long nails over my soles again and again. Her fingers seemed amazingly delicate and well-suited to the task they were now undertaking.

I strained again against my bonds, to no avail. I did notice my groin stretching high in the air, as it was not tied down, and as it did I noticed how completely full my cock felt. It had been months, maybe years since I'd had such a strong erection. I wondered if Claire had noticed my arousal... I suspected it was part of what was causing her to so viciously attack my sensitive soles. This assault on my stockinged feet seemed to go on for 4 or 5 minutes before Claire finally stopped for a break. I was sweating slightly and was also glad to catch my breath. I didn't realize until I stopped, how loudly I'd been laughing.

"I hope those skimpy panties can contain that throbbing cock of yours. Do you want me to put some ice on it? It looks a bit swollen?" Claire teased.

"I think I'm o.k."

"Oh, you may be o.k. now, but I think you'll be sweating a lot more later. I think we'll try a little something called 'Fire and Ice'. You want to try lots of things today, don't you?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess so. What do you mean 'fire'?" I asked in a shaky tone.

"Shhhhh..... you'll see my little sweety."

I felt her grab hold of the toes of one of my feet. Before I knew it I heard a ripping sound and felt cool air passing over my now bare toes. Claire had ripped a hole right in the end of my pantyhose leg. She soon repeated the gesture on the other foot. I could feel only the end of my feet exposed, as it felt like the lower part, especially the heels were still covered. I couldn't imagine what Claire was up to. But as it turned out, I didn't have to wait long to find out. I could hear the sound of a bowl or plate being put onto the hardwood floor. I felt Claire's hand reach into the nylon on the bottom of my left foot. Soon afterward a cold ice cube was dropped in. There was enough of the pantyhose left to keep the ice cube nicely pressed against the sole of my foot, about half-way down. It was only moments before I felt it starting to melt and drip ice cold water down my sole, to my heel. She repeated her action with the other foot. Soon both were writhing with their cold packages.

She left me like that for a minute or two, and it was then that I heard a strange sound. It took me a moment to recognize it as the sound of a match being lit. I could soon smell the smoke and sulfur fumes that followed. Several tense and quite seconds passed. Claire didn't say a word, and I was shaking too much to say anything myself. I couldn't imagine what she was about to do...

The first drop took me by complete surprise. At first I thought she'd dropped the lit match on my chest, but then I realized that she'd used the match to light a candle and was now dropping hot wax just below the bra covering my right nipple. Each drop stung slightly, then was very very warm, then faded quickly away. It wasn't painful exactly, just that each new drop was a startling sensation. I could feel my blood pressure rising as the tension mounted.

My feet were freezing, still being caressed by melting ice cubes stuffed down my pantyhosed feet. Both sides of my chest, Claire had now started on the other side, were tender and warm from the dripped wax. The mixture of sensations was sensuous and erotic as hell... fire and ice.

A moment later it got all the more interesting. The dripping stopped long enough for Claire to slip one ice cube into each cup of the black bra. Now my nipples were treated to the chilly treatment that my soles were receiving. And it wasn't long before the warmth of my chest began to melt the ice cubes. Soon freezing drops of water were rolling down, under the bra, and ending up dripping into my armpits. It was torture.

I had little time to savour this feeling before another one started. This time it was my belly button that was being coated in hot stinging wax. She held the candle over the same tiny area for what seemed like an eternity, letting drop after drop of burning wax fall into my 'innie'. I couldn't see how it looked, but it soon felt like it was getting full of wax. The heat was quite intense, as the new drops didn't allow previous drops to cool as they had when she dropped them on my flat chest. This wasn't truly painful, but it was really starting to get thrilling. I clenched my fists and curled my toes to fight the burning sensation. Claire must have taken pity on me, because she stopped the wax treatment shortly afterward.

I was catching my breath as Claire removed the ice cubes from both my feet and my nipples.

There was a long pause before Claire broke the silence with her wonderfully low voice.

"You know sometimes when women are tied down like this their male friends like to treat them like you've just been treated. But other times women are told to suck on things."

I had a sudden panic attack. Was Claire going to make me suck a man's cock? I wasn't really interested in that for my story. Was there a man in the room that I hadn't heard come in? Was he watching me, dressed up like a little slut as I was? I wondered what she meant by this comment when I heard a sound in the darkness. It was the unmistakable sound of her pumps falling to the floor. Claire was taking off her shoes.

As the bed was pushed down near my head I realized that she was then climbing up on the mattress. Soon I could feel one leg on either side of my head.

"Now listen carefully... I want you to stick your tongue out. I want you to lick the sole of my foot, from heel to toes. Then I want you to take my big toe in your mouth and suck it like you enjoy having your cock sucked, got it?"

"o.k." I answered meekly. I had sometimes kissed or held my girlfriend's feet during or after sex, but had never really sucked her feet as I was now being asked to do. Once again I followed Claire's instructions and stuck out my tongue.

I felt the warm sole start rubbing my tongue slowly and deliberately. Claire's soles were warm from having been in her tight shoes. I hadn't noticed before, but she was bare-legged, so it was her salty, leather-smelling bare soles that I was now tasting. The taste was something unique. A bit of leather, a bit of sweat, a bit of the smell of 'lived-in' feet. They didn't stink, but hadn't been washed in several hours, that was for sure.

Soon I had licked all the way up one sole, from the heel to her toes. She abruptly stuck several of the smaller toes in my open mouth all at once. I ran my tongue under them and then began to lick in-between each toe. I think I caught Claire off guard as she giggled slightly before withdrawing them. Soon, however, they were replaced with the big toe. She forcefully pushed it as deep as I could take it.

I must have begun to feel the part of my female character because something seemed to come over me. I relaxed my jaw and wrapped my lips tight around her toe. I let my tongue become very wet with saliva and stroked it over and over her toe. The salty, musty odor was getting steamy in my mouth and I was loving it, for what reasons I didn't know. I can only guess that Claire was getting into the act as well, for she didn't withdraw her toe for several long minutes. And when she did we repeated the entire affair with her other foot, starting again at the base of the heel.