receptionist wanted

[TearsAtBedtime]

Her stomach flips.

He did say to call, she supposed.

'Please just visit by yourself' Her voice more than a little shaky. Jess realises that as his voice made her jump, the second cuff has snapped closed. She felt like a virgin sacrifice, Andromeda waiting for rescue.

Jess hoped for Perseus but feared the arrival of Cetus instead.

 

[patrick1]

He thought food would be good to begn with. He stopped at a takeaway place on the way.

Wanting to see her like this - he kept deferring it.

But finally....how bizarre....she had left the door on the latch.

He found her, fastened by her own hands.

How pretty she was. In her underwear.

He made himself not caress her skin.

'You are very pretty,' he said. 'Thank you for approaching me.'

He tried carefully to assess how far she could reach. Then he placed the takeaway vegetable curry just six inches beyond that, on the floor.

'Any time you want me to undo the handcuffs, just beg, and I will.'

He gulped a little whisky from the flask he had with him, and sat on the chair just beyond her reach, and waited.

 

[TearsAtBedtime]

She was puzzled. Why didn't he touch her at all? His action seemed very controlled and deliberate, this wasn't a man to make mistakes or rash decisions.

Suddenly the stupidity of her situation became painfully clear. She had trapped herself in a room with a calculating man who was skilled in surgical techniques and body modification. A shiver that was for more than the cold ran across her body leaving goosebumps on her exposed skin.

She wasn't about to beg to be released though. She believed him when he said he would remove the handcuffs. Jess just wanted to be told what to do.

The smell of the curry invaded her thoughts.

'I don't need to be freed yet, but could I please have some food?' She eyed the bag hungrily and moved towards it. 'Can I ask what you intend to do?'

 

[patrick1]

'You can ask. I just won't answer.'

She must want something very badly.

If only to be wanted.

He left her there for a while, hunting the rooms for the ideal instrument.

He came back with the toilet brush. That was what he would touch her with, for now.

'Here is an exercise you can try for me. If you do it a thousand times, to my satisfaction, I may deal with you.

Hit your cunt violently against the bedpost. Each time, say Cunt, and the number of times you've already done that.

Begin. Or not, as you wish. I am easy either way.'

The toilet brush. Yes. He just touched her left nipple with it. She would look good with bigger breasts. Or smaller. Whatever he chose.

 

[TearsAtBedtime]

She looked at him quizzically. It wasn't the sort of instruction she'd expected at all. Her compulsion to obey had her positioned against the bed post before she even had time to question it.

The toilet brush really showed her what he thought of her, this wasn't a romantic tryst. She liked that.

'Cunt, one.' Jess said as she thrust her hips towards the bedpost between her thighs. The impact stinging her sensitive cunt.

'Cunt, two.' She continued. 'Cunt, three.'

 

[patrick1]

'On,' he said, 'on.'

He considered taking off his clothes, as she rubbed and counted.

But he didn't want to look in any way vulnerable to her.

'On,' he said, 'on.'

'I might like to do something most unusual to your labia and clitoris,' he said. 'Would you like that?'

Touching her with the toilet brush. Touching her. Watching.

 

[TearsAtBedtime]

'Cunt, eighty-four.'

Jess paused to consider the question. Her cunt was on fire with a mixture of pain and stimulation and a sheen of sweat coated her breasts and stomach. She wished she'd taken off her underwear as well. His presence made it seem silly to be clothed at all.

'What would you want to do? Cunt, eighty-five. Or don't I get to know before hand? Cunt, eighty-six' She thought for a second. 'I think I would like it anyway. Cunt, eighty-seven.'

 

[patrick1]

He stroked his penis, through his clothing.

He didn't want to come to orgasm too quickly.

'I would....'

How pretty, the way she was grinding her cunt. He had a fleeting worry she might be damaging herself.

Don't worry. You're with a surgeon.

'I would give you a clitoral hood piercing. That's how I would begin with you. I don't understand why any young woman like you would forgo the pleasure of such a thing. And then...'

That's it. Count. Hit. Count. Grind.

'And then, I would see what you asked for, once the joy of the piercing had taken a hold. You're pretty and I can make you prettier, that's the way it is. I can do all sorts of things to your body.'

 

[TearsAtBedtime]

All kind of things.

'Cunt, one hundred and seven'

All kinds of things.

The words resonated in her mind as she thrust her pelvis toward the bedpost once more. He could do things TO her. He sounded detached as he discussed her body. Like it was a thing, something to be used and improved, not like the living thing that she considered it to be.

Her cunt throbbed painfully as she hit it again. 'Cunt, one hundred and eight' the wetness between her thighs was evidence of her arousal. 'When would you want to start on me? I would like for you to perfect me. Cunt, one hundred and nine'

 

[patrick1]

'Stop.'

He liked the feeling of his hand in her hair.

He won't strip her, no. She can strip herself, if she wants to.

'Stop. Listen. You aren't listeniting. Listen!

I would start to modify your body with a clitoral hood piercing. That's what I said. I will do it now, if you want.

That's where we'll begin.

You don't have to pay. But you have to begin to wear a camera and a microphone, from that moment on.

Is it a small price? Or a big one.

Stop grinding yourself. Listen. Answer.'

 

[TearsAtBedtime]

Jess stopped as she considered the proposition. What made her want to obey him so completely.

She moved her head against his hand, a nuzzling motion that happened unconsciously.

'Yes, yes please. Whatever you want to do to me and my body, I accept.'

 

[patrick1]

'For myself, as between the horizontal and vertical piercings, I prefer the vertical. My clients tell me it enhances their pleasure.'

They are at the office, in the inner room. She is naked, on the bed, her legs up in stirrups, and any moment now he will...

His hand is steady.

He should have a nurse with him, in case anything goes wrong, but these are unusual circumstances.

The needle goes in. She'll hardly feel a thing.

Later her pleasure will, hopefully, be profound.

He strokes her hair.

'There....While the object of this procedure is pleasure - the site, for a short time, is a wound. I will give you a little alcohol to bathe it with.

If there are any complications, any pain, call me immediately.

When you have your first orgasm because of the piercing, call me too. I wish, no, I require to know.'

And then, throwing his scrubs in the bucket, he is quickly gone from the room, and she is left to recover herself on her own.