Susan's First Bondage

"Yes, your own policy covers you as well as mine now drive." he ordered as he clipped the seat belt on and tried to appear calm and confident.

She surprised herself, as she threaded the traffic and eventually she parked as instructed in a car park in town. "See, I'm pushing your limits, well done." he praised her, but it was no carvery he took her to a dingy back door to anonymous block of shops or offices, it opened onto a poorly lit corridor with peeling paintwork, she looked closer and decided it was in fact peeling wall paper, and then he ordered her to turn left and climb the stairs.

Her heart pounded, "It's not a carvery is it?" she said.

"No, it's a test," he admitted, "what do you want?" he asked, "Sex, go home, or trust me."

"What?" she said as she kept walking.

"I gave you a choice." he said.

"Is it bad?" she asked.

"It's something you need to do if we are to have a future." he told her.

"Yes, then I'll do it." she agreed, but she shivered, was this some dark bondage club, or a simple den where she was to be stripped and raped, her heart pounded but with dread, she felt an icy pit in her stomach where she had always dreamed she would feel a warm wet glow of anticipation.

The upper corridor was painted green, the low energy light bulbs glowed feebly as they passed locked doors and anonymous offices or apartments and then he spoke. "it's this one."

He opened the green door, there were men waiting, sitting around on worn easy chairs, three men, sitting round a coffee table with a pile of worn glossy magazines, in their shirt sleeves, open neck shirts. She stopped dead. Oh god, he's going to make me have sex with them, she imagined.

"No, I can't" she said.

"Oh sorry Mr Hart," a man said as he stood up, "I."

"Just taking a short cut John, this is Sue," he said

"Oh, pleased to meet you miss." he said

"John, Mike and Janeck, britains finest." he said, "Come along." he added as he opened the far door and guided her through.

The door led to a corridor poorly lit with a red glow, he led her down it towards muted sounds of jollity, another door, she opened it and found doors marked Gentlemen and Ladies, "Are you all right?" he asked, "Wash your hands, I'll see you in a moment."

She did as he said, her heart thumping, the fittings were opulent, buttoned leather, expensive wallpaper, deep pile carpets all in a Ladies Lavatory, her feelings of dread increased, and she actually shook as she returned to the corridor.

"It's your big test now," he whispered, "Are you ready?"

She nodded, and he followed closely as she opened the door to where she knew people were waiting.

The restaurant was packed, crowded, all the tables taken, she stopped in confusion, the head waiter saw them and hurried across, "Ah Mr Hart-Jarvis, your party are seated sir, please they are here, table fourteen as requested."

She followed the waiter allowed him to move her chair out and before she could sit down he was introducing the smart lady and gentleman as they sat quietly waiting, "Susan, this is Marjorie, my mother and Mr John Wilson."

"My Lover," Marjorie joked, "So you are the mysterious pornographer!"

Susan sat down in shock, her face going alternately white and then red with embarrassment,

"Given us enormous pleasure following your stories," Marjorie continued.

"Enormous," John agreed.

"But come let's order." Marjorie suggested "I'm hungry."

The head waiter hovered, took the order and returned with a young waitress and four bowls of soup with the alacrity of a fast food joint.

"So do you write fromm experience or." Marjorie asked.

"I think it's imagination Mother," Simon answered for her, "I think it's all in the mind."

"You don't actually have a foursome then?" Marjorie suggested

"Oh no." Susan answered, "I just imagine everything, I haven't actually had a boyfriend since, I started emailing Simon." Susan admitted.

"He's screwed every waitress in here," Marjorie explained reasonably, "One at a time."

Simon blushed, "I have needs" he explained.

"What do you do?" Marjorie asked.

"Teacher, English, Secondary school." she replied cryptically.

"Ah hence the secrecy, the nom de plume." Marjorie added.

Susan nodded,

"The duck is superb, Simon" John suggested changing the subject, "Tell me Susan, do you play piano or sing."

"Guitar and sing a bit. backing vocals Alto that sort of thing." she replied.

"Good, Marjorie has a wonderful Mezzo Soprano," John suggested,"and Simon is an acceptable Baritone so good, that bodes well for Christmas."

Susan looked across at Simon and he took her hand and squeezed it gently, and smiled.

Susan wished she could have a glass of wine, but as Simon had said she was designated driver, and almost too soon they were finishing with coffee and a mint chocolate.

Susan wondered about paying for her share of the meal, and was confused when they all stood up together, "We'll run you home Mother," Simon offered.

"Simon, what about the check?" Susan asked in panic.

John laughed, "It's his bloody restaurant my dear, didn't he say?"

The front entrance was much more impressive than the rear, red lamps under a green canopy, and steps down to the wide street, she recognised the arcade opposite and the theatre just a few doors away and suddenly the Range Rover appeared, driven by one of the waiters she saw earlier, except now he wore jacket and tie, and he opened the drivers door for her.

"Its Amadaeus Gardens, 24, I've put it in the sat nav." Simon suggested. as he climbed in the back seat, leaving Marjorie to sit in the front.

Susan drove nervously, unused to the automatic gear shift, and as she drove she wondered just what they had in mind for her, they had read her works, everything she had sent Simon, probably, as well as the finished stories which had appeared on line, all the stories of bondage, whippings, sadistic masters submissive sluts unable to achieve climax without being chained or tied up, Oh god, she thought, perhaps they expected to tie her up, perhaps she was to be a sex slave to the entire family.

"Turn Left" The sat-nav ordered and so soon they were stopping outside Marjorie's spacious suburban villa.

"We won't come in," Stephen said to Susan's surprise as he held the door open for Marjorie and then he was sitting beside Susan.

"Anyone you should tell about your change of plan." Simon suggested, and when she shook her head he said "The back seats fold down," he suggested.

Susan never suspected Simon was testing her as she drove, he let her drive, and to his surprise she found her way back to his house easily.

She locked the car and handed him the key, and as she walked up to the door he surprised her by lifting her off the ground and carrying her through the doorway, he set her down and locked and bolted the door, and suggested "Wash your hands."

He was waiting for her as she left the bathroom, he was wearing a red bathrobe which reached to his knee and he carried a whip, a riding crop as horse riders called them. She walked past into the bedroom and started to undress, laying her dress on the bed which he quickly picked up and placed on a coat hanger and the as she removed her stockings and shoes, then her panties and bra and finally she went to remove her jewellery.

"Keep the choker and Jewels" he said firmly and she climbed onto the bed, "Face down." he suggested and he quickly attached the waiting handcuffs to her wrists, "Move your knees up a bit," he ordered and as she knelt he pulled her ankles outward at an awkward angle and secured them with the other handcuffs.

"Are you ready," he asked acutely aware of the way his erection was propping his bathrobe out like a tent pole.

She nodded.

"Say Stop, if it's unbearable," he advised and then he took the riding crop and hit her across the left buttock, "Thwack!" leaving a red mark staining the smooth pristine pale pink complexion of her bottom.

She stifled her cry, she needed to prove to him that she could be what he needed her to be.

He hit her across the right buttock, "Thwack! again a red stain marred her perfect bottom,

He saw she was crying, "Say stop if it hurts!" he ordered.

"I can bear it if it's what you want." she sobbed.

"It doesn't seem to be," he said as he felt his erection ebbing away. "I'll get some lotion."

He gently rubbed the lotion into her backside, her bottom was too boney to look good with red stripes across it and her breasts too small and she was too tall and thin and willowy and elegant and beautiful and lovely to be chained up and beaten, he decided.

He tried to find the eroticism but her tears spoiled it, he even tried to slide under her so she could sink down on him but it didn't work, so he left her alone on the bed and turned out the light and closed the door.

He sat on his own soft king size bed, thinking, and then he turned the radiator thermostat down and tried to sleep.

He woke, the clock said three ten, he shivered, and remembered, perhaps she could be his bed warmer, so he went to find her.

She lay awkwardly but slept easily, contentedly perhaps, he was reluctant to wake her but she had come here to do his bidding. She woke as he released the final handcuff, he helped her remove the Choker and pearls and then said "I'm cold, come warm me up."

She yawned so he lifted her and carried her to his bed where he covered her with the duvet and climbed in beside her, she faced away from him and he put his arms round her, her breasts fell easily to hand and he smiled as her nipples stiffened at his touch, and her sex seemed such a nice place to put his fingers, a lovely warm, soft wet place.

He rolled onto his back.

"Don't stop," she pleaded, "Make love to me, please."

"It's love now is it?" he asked, but she had grown bold, climbing over him until she could sink down on his straining manhood for a brief moment before he rolled her on to her back to crush her pert breasts against his chest as she wrapped her long elegant legs around him.

"Simon" she asked as he started to pleasure he with long lazy strokes, "Is there anywhere to park my car if I move in,"

"Double garage around the back, now shut up." he said, and added, "We'll fetch your things tomorrow, "

"Simon," she said, "You will help me write my stories, won't you, help me experience everything?"

"Perhaps," he agreed, "But I think I want to keep you all to myself!"

To be continued