Careful what you ask for: Lorna’s story

Part 1.

Whenever I broke up with a guy I would always feel for a few days after that strange mixture of relief and regret. Justin and I had been too alike, which made the sex fantastic but the rows too blazing to be bearable any more. Our last night together was still recent enough to make me wince whenever I thought of it. We had screamed at eacho ther for what seemed like hours but was in fact seven minutes of supercondensed frustration and outraged betrayal of the hopes we’d invested in each other. His parting word to me before he slammed the door and left my flat and my life forever still resonated inside me: “You don’t have to win every fucking time, all the fucking time!”

At first my mind had counter-attacked. What did that jerk think I was? I’m a corporate lawyer on seventy grand advising blue chip clients. He knew I’m competitive and like getting my own way. Was I supposed to curl up on the rug at his feet whenever he looked at me?. Then I realised that I’d no idea what he’d wanted from me or what his hopes for us had been. I’d never bothered to find out. I’d carried him with me for 3 months and now he’d had enough and gone, leaving me with nothing, because I’d invested nothing in him. I’d been brought up to be a winner, but if this was winning, it sucked.

I had absorbed myself in my twin passions of work and ballet, agreeing to take part in the local amateur company’s next production and adding twice-weekly rehearsals to my already heavy schedule. But tonight I’d gone to the gym. I’d looked around at the others pushing themselves to their limits and beyond and my competitive instincts had kicked in and for a little while all seemed normal. But after a few minutes I’d given up. Sod this, I’d thought, I need to think. Now I was in my usual wine bar, no closer to an answer. Then Julia saw me and came over to my table. “How was gym tonight?”, I asked her as she sat down. I’d known her since she’d started coming to the gym several months ago and often met her for a drink and a good natter afterwards. She was tall. blonde and athletic with an hourglass figure and legs to die for. I’m more of a gamine type and I always felt like an inadequate stick insect next to her. “It was OK, but are you OK Lorna? I saw you leave early,” she asked.

I told her about Justin and about what he’d said. “And was he right?”, she asked. I thought a moment before replying, “Yes, I suppose in a way he was. It’s not that I’m incapable of giving and sharing, it’s just that the instinct has become so buried inside me that I feel I need something to happen, something quite incredibly profound, for me to let it out again.” “What does that something look like to you right now?”, Julia asked. “You’ll be shocked when I tell you”, I warned her. “Try me”, she smiled. I took a deep breath and began. “I often fantasise about being in a state of complete helplessness. When we were children my friends would tie me up and gag me and then make me run off into the woods by our house so they could hunt me down. We called it ‘Fugitive’. I still get these deep desires to be tied up and gagged, naked on a bed and then have to give the man whose going to fuck me what he wants and trust he’ll treat me right and release me afterwards. But I’ve always suppressed them because I could never reconcile them with my drive to always be competing and coming out on top, so to speak”

We laughed and then she said, “You seem less resistant to the idea now. Would you actually do it now if you had the opportunity?” “Why not?”, I replied. “I feel now I’d have nothing to lose by trying and it might even be fun with the right guy.” Julia looked straight at me, “If you want it, I can arrange it for you.” “What are you talking about?”, I was shocked. Julia remained calm, “My partner and I run a business that enables people to live out their deepest fantasies and desires. I’m not talking about perverts, but ordinary people like you and me, living ordinary lives but having amazing imaginations. My partner Rick fantasised for years about wanting to be a ballerina before he decided to have lessons. Now he can dance on his toes and he looks so gorgeous and feminine in his white swan costume. He set up the business after his experience of meeting lots of other men, and women, who wanted to live their fantasies too. For years before I met him I’d dreamed of skydiving naked. He arranged it for me. The second time, we jumped together with him strapped to my back and we fucked at five thousand feet. It was fantastic.” I joined him in the business after that. Remind me to show you the photos some time.”

“How do I know you’re not making this up?”, I asked her, hardly able to believe I was hearing this. She gave me a list. These are women clients who will recommend our services if you ask them. Several of them work in your firm. I was amazed to see the name of our senior litigation partner on the list. “OK, now you’ve convinced me, I’m prepared to put my money where my mouth is. How much and what must I do?”, I asked. “It’s £500, non-refundable and payable now. You sign a contract now and then you do everything your told, no questions asked, until you sign a receipt to say the contract is concluded. Do you still want to go ahead?” I gave her a cheque, signed the contract and arranged an evening that didn’t coincide with my next period. “Is there anything else we can do to make your experience enjoyable”, she asked. I gave her an embarrassed smile and said, “I shave my pussy every month. I call it my Nice Time of the Month. It would be really kinky if someone shaved me while I was tied up on the bed. Then I want to be blindfolded and have my ears blocked up so I’m completely helpless. On second thoughts I’ll need to hear to get some stimulation. If I can’t see him at least I can get off on the noises he makes. Oh, and make sure he wears a condom.” Julia wrote in a notebook. “I’ll meet you outside the gym at 8. Make sure you’re on time”, she instructed as she left. What have I let myself in for, I wondered.

Julia had a transit van parked in a side road near the gym. As we stood at the back she asked me a final time if I wanted to back out. I was nervous but determined to see it through. We waited for a couple of moments before her mobile rang. She said one word, “Confirmed!”, then said to me, “Get in the van and lie on the floor with your arms straight next to your sides.” I stretched out on the blanket. Julia knelt beside me and said “Open your mouth.” I did, and she pushed a small rubber ball into my mouth. “Now close”, she said, “and lift up your head.” I obeyed, and she smoothed a strip of sticking plaster over my mouth and then pressed another strip under my chin and smoothed the ends over my cheeks. I was so firmly gagged I couldn’t move my lips or my jaw at all. “Don’t try to talk or make any sound”, Julia ordered me, “Now place your hands on your back.” As I realised that Julia was about to tie me up I felt a sudden rush of mingled fear and deep sexual excitement. My pulse raced and my breath surged through my nostrils and I suddenly felt warm and damp between my legs. She bound my wrists together then made me lift my body slightly so she could tie my arms to my sides and then she tied my ankles and my upper legs just above my knees. Then I was alone, completely helpless in the back while she drove off.

The van stopped and Julia appeared at my side. She blindfolded me with a scarf, which made me even wetter with excitement, slid me out of the van and carried me with ease in a fireman’s hoist into a building. I was amazed at how strong she was. I was placed on the floor and when she removed my blindfold I saw I was in a large empty room like a workshop, the kind of place you see in crime films or TV series. In the middle of the room was a bed surrounded by lights on stands, which I assumed was where the action would take place. Julia sat on a chair close to me and I drew my knees up to my breasts from an instinctive need to hide my damp crotch. I was nervous of what would happen next. After a few minutes, four men entered through a door in the opposite wall. For a split-second of stabbing fear I thought they were all going to do me. Then I realised that the one dressed differently from the others in a charcoal grey suit – the others wore black – was tied up and gagged like me. And then I realised that he had been brought here to fulfil my fantasy, and I was here to fulfil his!

As he first caught sight of me curled up on the floor, bound and gagged, he looked genuinely worried about me, which I thought was nice. Then the leader of the other men, who I guessed was Rick, told me to indicate to the man that I was here from my own choice. I nodded and made a little Mmm in my gag for emphasis. The man seemed reassured. At least he’s good looking and takes care of himself, I thought, noticing that in spite of being tied up and gagged himself, he looked smart, clean and well groomed. Then I thought, I just hope he doesn’t turn out to be perv’ after all. I was glad I was wearing smart office clothes and hoped that he thought I looked OK. At the same time I wished I had bigger breasts and a more womanly figure and really shapely legs, basically that I looked like Julia and not still like the gangly schoolgirl I was at 15, which may look fine in my gym kit or my ballet costume but seemed lacking in this situation. It’s strange what comes into your mind at stressful moments.

Rick’s voice ordering me to strip naked jolted me from my reverie. Julia untied me but left me gagged while the man was made to sit in a chair to watch me, which he didn’t seem to mind too much. I was beginning to feel very self-conscious of my pale, girlish body and very aware of the signs it was showing of my sexually heightened state. He’ll think I’m a total slut, I thought, as I began undressing, finding it hard to stop myself shaking sufficiently to use my fingers. I breathed deeply and thought, Here goes, as I pulled off my sweater to reveal I was only wearing a bra underneath. The guy looked at me with great interest, which encouraged me. Maybe I’m his type after all, I thought. Emboldened, I undid my skirt and while I was on a role, unhooked my bra and gave him a good eyeful. My breasts are small but nicely rounded and I hoped he was enjoying my display. His eyes smiled at me over his gag and it felt nice to be actively seeking his approval. Until now I would never have considered the idea that making the effort to discover what it was about me that caused a man to find pleasure in me could be pleasurable in itself.

Before tonight I’d never knowingly stripped off with more than one pair of eyes observing, so I forced myself to concentrate on the guy and ignore the others. I have a close to compulsive need for order and tidiness so I steadied my nerves by carefully folding and piling my clothes as I removed them. I let him have a another good look at my breasts as I placed my bra on top of the pile and his eyes really seemed to brighten, which really encouraged me. So what if my pants have a big damp patch, just wait until he sees the state I’m in underneath, I thought, as I took them off. Anyway, he’ll relax more if he can see I’m enjoying myself too. And, in spite of my nervousness, I was enjoying myself with the challenge of overcoming my nerves by channelling my growing desire to fulfil my fantasy with this man.

Then I noticed that there was a row of different sized pairs of white shoes along one wall and one of the gang was comparing my shoes with them. I was even more puzzled when he handed a pair of them to me and Rick told me to put them on. When I looked closely I realised that they were white plimsolls, with a pair of white ankle socks tucked inside one of them. I haven’t worn these since school gym lessons, what’s this all about?, I thought. Then I realised that this must be part of the guy’s fantasy. He is a pervert after all, I thought, shooting him an accusing glance over my gag. But I couldn’t help smiling inwardly at his slightly sheepish shrug and the appeal in his eyes. Besides, I’d always used to think my feet looked cute in plimsolls, it would be fun to wear them again and putting them on would also help to combat my nerves. I smiled at him with my eyes and he seemed reassured.

Reckoning that it would be a big turn on for the guy, I sat so he could see my feet clearly from side on and everything I was doing with them. My slightly fumbly fingers pulled on the first white ankle sock. I looked at my foot in it. It does look cute, I thought. Then with slightly shaky hands holding the matching white plimsoll I pushed my soft cotton-covered foot into it. It felt nice. Then for a few seconds I could absorb myself in tightening and tying the laces in a neat symmetrical bow. I repeated the process with my other foot.

I stood up. I was getting into my performance now. The guy had looked at me with real pleasure in his eyes all the time and I was enjoying being the object and the reason for his pleasure. Me with my pale, skinny adolescent schoolgirl body and beanpole legs. Here I was standing before him, naked and gagged and wearing schoolgirl white plimsolls and ankle socks. Me and my inadequate flesh and blood giving life at last to his wet dream. I wondered how he was imagining me now, maybe in a tennis dress and no knickers like in the poster, or in a gymslip and my hair in pigtails – or maybe he would be wearing them.

Emboldened and almost intoxicated by the sexual thoughts and erotic images flooding my brain I began to dance for him, skipping from foot to foot and pointing and turning my plimsolled feet as if I was wearing my white ballet shoes, swaying and turning with outstretched arms so he could see my breasts and my open, excited pussy in all their glory. I could see his eyes shining with delight over his gag and the thought of his swollen dick bulging inside his trousers drove me on in my titillating improvisation.

But then I glanced behind him and caught sight of his guards watching me. Their expressionless faces and eyes stopped me dead and then self-consciousness returned with its sharp stab. I was suddenly and painfully aware of my little pixie girl face and my scrap of a body with my tiny tits and hips like a boy’s and my matchstick arms and legs with wrists and ankles a child could get her thumb and finger around. I was overcome with the need to cover myself and make myself as small as possible. I hunched and cowered before them while I covered up my tits and my fanny as best as I could.

I was rescued from my crushing state of sudden self-loathing by the compassionate look in the man’s eyes as he shook his head slightly, as if trying to tell me not to think of myself like that. I was also saved by Rick’s decision that it was time for me to be tied up again and tied down on the bed. It seems totally warped looking back on it now, but at that moment, the feel of the ropes being tightened and tied around my wrists and upper body felt somehow familiarly comforting, while the prospect of being tied down on the bed gave me a new situation to respond to.

Once I had been made to lie down on the bed I absorbed myself in the intricacies of being tied down on it. Two twists of rope went around my upper body just under my armpits, the ends passing beneath my shoulders before being tied to the headposts, thus fixing my upper body in place. Then another rope crossed over my waist several times across the bed, pinning down my lower body. My ankles were tied to the footposts with short lengths of rope, so that I was now stretched out and unable to move.

Then for a split second my competitive instinct tried to rebel against my state of total naked helplessness and I had to suppress the urge to struggle against my bonds and scream out through my gag NO! STOP IT! I DON’T WANT THIS ANYMORE! LET ME GO! I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I had chosen to be rendered completely powerless and helpless and to entrust myself to others that they would only do with me what had been agreed beforehand, to learn an extreme lesson in trusting others and being worthy of trust in return. Anyway, I knew the next part of the tableau was something I was going to enjoy very much. But when Rick announced I was going to be shaved, I couldn’t for some reason help feeling embarrassed in my turn when the guy looked at me quizzically. My burning cheeks were hidden under my gag, but my flushed forehead gave me away. His eyes smiled as he shook his head and my eyes smiled back ruefully.

I had started shaving Down South about a year ago out of curiosity to see if I felt more comfortable in my ballet tights. I enjoyed the feeling of shaving my bush off so much that I let it grow back so I could enjoy the experience again. As time went on I could shave more frequently until I got it down to four-week intervals, hence my Nice Time of the Month. Shaving myself was a pleasure, but now the feeling I was getting as Julia shaved me was just gorgeous. I’m very ticklish and as Julia applied shaving cream with a brush all around my pussy I giggled with delight into my gag. Then as I felt the wonderful feeling of my hair being expertly removed by the smooth strokes of a safety razor I began to moan with pleasure through my gag. I felt a twinge of embarrassment when I started but then thought, What’s the point, I’m really going to enjoy this. And I did, moaning even louder into my gag, swaying my head from side to side and pointing my plimsolled feet as if I was on the points of my ballet shoes in a passionate pas-de-deux with my partner. My breasts rose and fell as if carried on a mighty ocean swell. All the while I was aware of getting warmer and wetter between my legs. As Julia gently applied baby oil, I purred with deep pleasure with the delicious feelings coming from my newly shaved areas.

My preparations completed, I could now watch supinely as the man was made ready. He looked very self-conscious as he began to undress. Knowing how that felt, I nodded and made encouraging noises to him through my gag, which seemed to help him. I looked on approvingly as he draped his clothes carefully over the chair he’d been sitting on before being untied and as his nakedness emerged I approved even more. He had a trim, attractively proportioned and smoothly-featured body, with little hair other than around his groin and his armpits. He hadn’t done anything to match my little dance for him. But he made up for it by facing me as he removed his pants and pulling them down in a way that made his dick spring up as it was freed from their grasp. He was really nicely hung and his dick stuck up from between his shapely thighs like a conger eel emerging from its rocky lair. I was so given over to the situation now that I had no inhibition about groaning into my gag with delight at the sight of it, the anticipation of taking it into me and the sheer frustration at not being able to grasp it and plunge it in my mouth there and then. That encouraged him too and the smile he gave me with his eyes over his gag made me shiver.

He sat down facing me as he put on a pair of plimsolls and ankle socks and I saw the smooth, bulbous head of his dick start to glisten with his pre-cum. He’s a real foot fetishist alright, I thought. Still, feet are great fun and there are much worse things to be into. I waved my plimsolled feet at him and that pleased him too. It suddenly struck me how building him up in his pleasure was increasing my anticipation of my own pleasure to come. He’ll be red hot for me when the time comes, I thought, making my pulse race even more.

As he was being tied up again, Rick told him he could choose to be shaved as well. I hadn’t thought of the possibility and I was pleased at Rick’s inspiration. I was delighted when he grunted in agreement. His guards laid him on the floor while Julia got to work on him and I gasped inwardly when she produced a cutthroat razor, before admiring her skill as she shaved him in the most intimate places imaginable. He groaned in pleasure and made a sharp UHHMM! sound whenever she took hold of his dick to move it away from the razor and again when she rubbed him with baby oil. She wore latex gloves which probably increased the erotic element even more for him. I was pleased he seemed happy with having to wear a condom. He groaned some more as Julia rolled it onto his shaft and then fixed it on him with surgical tape wrapped in a figure of eight around the base of his shaft and the top of his scrotum. Then his ankles and legs were retied and he was ready for me.

Like a satellite docking with a space station, he was lifted up and brought over me. He exuded a deeply arousing mixture of aftershave, sporty shower gel, sweat and high-level testosterone. His huge, swollen dick now imprisoned within his condom hung horizontally in parallel with his bound body. He looked at me over his gag with a mixture of desire and of invitation too. Let’s make this fantastic for both of us, he seemed to be saying to me. My eyes shone back in response to him as my whole body tensed in anticipation of his first contact and of his entrance. He went UHHMM! again as Julia, again provoking envy within me, took hold of his dick and I shuddered with excitement as I felt the first touch of his head against my wet and wide open pussy. Then we both gasped in our gags as Julia pushed him into me and he penetrated deep inside me as he was finally laid on the prepared table of my body.

We had been told not to move until allowed, so now we both had to endure an agony of waiting while he was tied down onto me. His groin settled into mine and his chest cushioned on my breasts. I got a gorgeous feeling in my nipples as they pressed into him and the velvety sensitive feeling in my pussy as it enveloped his stiff, swollen dick radiated deliciously through my body. He was able to look me directly in the eyes and I really felt he was actually making love to me with his gaze. I felt a tremendous affinity growing between us that seemed to spring from the amazing experience we were sharing yet to exist independently of it. I responded to his eyes in kind and then suddenly remembered with a sinking feeling inside that I had asked to be blindfolded.

Rick’s announcement of my decision caused the guy to look at me with regret and yet understanding as well. I began to regret my decision as Julia placed make up pads over my eyes and placed a strip of sticking plaster over them, but I knew I had to go through with it now and get as much from the experience as I could. Most of my face was now covered in plaster. Only a thin strip of my forehead under my hairline, the lower part of my nose and the tip of my chin were free of the sticky grasp of my blindfold and my gag.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with the awareness of what I would be unable to do with him. I desperately wanted to enfold him in my arms and kiss him deeply open-mouthed and cry out to him in my ecstasy and wrap my legs around him and rub my feet up and down his legs and push him deeper into me with my feet pressing on his buttocks – something my years of ballet training enabled me to do. But most of all I wanted to drink up the look of his desire and his pleasure for me in his eyes. I wanted them to be my reference point in what was about to happen, not the feel of his penis buried deep in the warm, moist, velvet-smoothness of my vagina, or the weight of him crushing down on my breasts.

And then, as Rick told us we could begin, my drive to dominate and control began to rebel again. How dare he expect me to lie passively, tied up, tied down, gagged, naked apart from these silly little girl white plimsolls and ankle socks that I’ve been tricked into wearing by this pathetic pervert crushing the life out of me while he prods me, who I can’t even see or tell him to go fuck himself. I began to make angry MMMPH! MMMPH! noises at him through my gag – Give it to me now you bastard and get off me! I strained against the ropes holding down my waist and contracted my pelvic floors as hard as I could as if trying to squeeze his load out of his dick. I expected him to respond in his anger with a few sharp stabs - and then it would all be over.

I was on the point of being crushed by this last thought and the prospect of the whole crazy business being for nothing, when I became aware of his voice close to my ear. There was no trace of anger. Instead I heard soothing Mmmm Mmmm sounds, which somehow brought me back from the brink of despair. Then I remembered his eyes and all the care, concern, pleasure and desire for me that he had communicated to me through them. I calmed down and responded with a gentle Mmm Mmm.

We seemed to have a natural ability to communicate without words. By humming or grunting with a rising or falling inflection, he was able to ask me if I ready and I was able to tell him I was. Then, as he began to explore me with gentle thrusts, I was able to tell him if he was getting warmer or colder. He was pushing with his feet against a wooden board fixed across the bed so that he could thrust. I anticipated getting a real humping and expected to feel the effect of it for a good while afterwards. At first he found a rhythm that felt warm and arousing deep within me. I purred with deep pleasure into my gag as at last I felt the fabulously relieving rub of his gorgeous dick against my throbbing clit. Then he changed up a gear and the pressure gauge inside me started to climb. My purring changed to a deep throaty growl as he began to hit my G-spot and send sparks shooting inside me with every thrust and then I felt myself on the verge of coming, too soon. I made an urgent MMMPH! MMMPH! to him through my gag and he immediately understood and changed down again.

After a few more minutes of deeply pleasurable purring whilst enjoying his contented grunting, he asked me in our gag language if I was ready for the finale. I nodded sightlessly to him and Mmm-Mmm’d my affirmation and he changed up again. The feeling deep inside me was fabulous. I pointed my feet ballerina-style, dug my fingers into the mattress, shook my head from side to side and made deep throaty cries into my gag in total sexual abandon every time he hit my spot. Then, like a torrent of fresh rainwater bursting out of a storm drain, my orgasm welled up from the deepest depths of me. I went rigid with shock for a second, then screamed through my gag and screamed again and screamed again and then collapsed into an ecstatic moan as I was carried on the crest, then floated in the shallows, then was finally washed ashore, totally spent. In my rapture I realised he had stopped to let me enjoy the gorgeous feeling without distraction. I suddenly felt so overwhelmed with gratitude to and for this wonderful man who had helped me to enjoy such a fantastic experience.

I decided to prove to him that ballerinas really do make the best lovers, thanks to the superb condition of our pelvic floors. I squeezed and released my muscles in a deep rhythm and I delighted in the moans of pleasure he made through his gag with the massage I was giving him. Then I made an encouraging MMM! MMM! noise to him as if saying Come on, give me all you’ve got! Although I was starting to get sore with the humping of his unsupported body over my groin, I urged him on with MOOOUUHM! MUUUHM! noises through my gag in rhythm with the HUUUMPH! MUUUMPH! noises he was making through his gag as he thrust deep into me. Then he came with a great UHHHHRRRMMMM! and I felt him shudder in his deepest pleasure. I massaged him again and he moaned some more before he went quieter and then I was aware that he was resting his head right next to mine from the feel on my ear of his heavy breathing.

By now we were both bathed in sweat and gasping for breath. We were quickly untied from eachother and I felt him being lifted off me. My blindfold was removed and I discovered to my delight that he had been laid on his back next to me. I watched his dick gradually get smaller and saw the great milky glob of his cum accumulated in the end of his condom. I relaxed and enjoyed the feeling as my pussy changed back from a wide open portal to a discrete slit within the deliciously silky smoothness of my mound. I longed to stroke him and tell him and thank him for how wonderful he had made me feel. But we remained bound and gagged and all I could do was smile at him with my eyes and make an Mmm-Mmm? sound to him to ask if he was OK. He smiled back with his shining eyes and made a long, low and very sexily affirming Mmmmm! sound. We held eachother with our eyes and then his face came closer to mine. I could see a very faint outline of his lips through his gag and I touched the place with my own plaster-covered lips. Although I couldn’t feel his mouth on mine, it was the most amazing kiss I’d ever shared.

It only lasted a second because at that moment Julia started untying me from the bed. Then she lifted me over her shoulder, with my bare bottom pointing to the roof and my ballerina-pointed feet hanging down in front of her and took me to a side room. My final sight of him was his beautiful body lying stretched on the bed, trussed up like a delicious great hunk of beef and topped and tailed in white by his gag and his plimsolls and socks like a rack of lamb. I longed to see him with his smooth and lightly tanned body glistening with oil, wearing a tiny black satin posing pouch and shiny black leather ballet slippers. Hey! I thought, now he’s getting me into this foot fetish business. I bet I thinks I look like a dead deer. The very familiarity of the thoughts I was having about him now suddenly made me realise that I had absolutely no idea who he was, and I absolutely had to see him again.

I was desperate to sign off my contract because I knew that Julia wouldn’t speak to me until then, and I needed her help to contact him. But now she laid me on my side on a couch in the side room, facing the wall so she could untie me, then left me alone. I was desperate for the loo by now and was so grateful to find that the room contained a small cubicle with a WC. I had a marvellous double relief as I sat on the toilet and carefully peeled off my gag. I shouted WHOOPPEE! in sheer delight at being able to use my mouth again. I laughed at the idea of me and the sight of myself sitting on a toilet naked wearing white plimsolls and ankle socks and laughed again just for the simple pleasure of being able to laugh.

Then I wanted to enjoy the pleasure of unrestricted movement. Using a wall-mounted radiator as a ballet barre, I went through some simple ballet exercises to bend and stretch limbs and muscles that had been fast-bound for what felt like an age. This was not an unusual thing for me to do as I often dance naked in my ballet shoes at home. But now I rejoiced in the wonderful feeling of freedom to move my naked body as I chose and felt very sexy as I saw at the ends of my naked legs my feet pointing in my white plimsolls and ankle socks.

After a good workout. I took off my plimsolls and socks, had a good long wash and got dressed. They had even provided a new pair of white silk pants for me to wear, which felt lovely against my newly shaved groin. Next to my clothes was a bag with a label stuck to it which read, For your future pleasure. I looked inside and laughed out loud as I saw a length of the rope used to tie me up and a roll of sticking plaster and some small rubber balls like those used to gag me. The label also said, Please keep footwear. My plimsolls were still pristinely white but my socks needed a good wash. I put them in my somewhat unusual goody bag.

I was ready to leave. Another notice said, Prepare to leave. Knock when ready. I knocked on the door and Julia returned and, smiling, handed me another note which read, You will be blindfolded. Can remove on signal 3 knocks. She blindfolded me and led me out of the building, holding my handbag and my goody bag, and into the back of a van. I heard the signal and removed my blindfold. Now I had some quiet moments in which to think.

I knew deep inside me that this incredible experience had changed me forever. Now I really understood that it was far better to get what I wanted by asking and sharing rather than by demanding and dominating. And that what I got was far better for having gone that way. I realised that I was misusing the strength and determination in my nature to overcompensate for a poor self-image. Yet this man had seen me in my body in my most naked, vulnerable and helpless state imaginable and found me beautiful and desirable and I had felt cherished by him. He had encouraged me and comforted me and, even bound and gagged, had taken care of me and been strong for me when I most needed him to. By encouraging him and seeking to pleasure him in return, I had had the most intimate, tender and fantastically erotic sexual experience of my life. From what could have been so clinical and sordid and denying of humanity, we had made a wonderful, beautiful celebration of it, together. I just had to see him again!

The van stopped and Julia let me out of the back of the van. We were back where it had all begun two hours and a lifetime ago. I signed the form that said my contract was fulfilled and then we hugged eachother close. “Are you alright Lorna, really alright?”, she asked me anxiously. “Oh Julia, I’ve got to know who he is, I have to see him again. Please will you tell me his name and where I can reach him.” Julia looked at me gently, “He’s a client so I can only give you his personal details if he agrees first. Let me see what I can do.” Julia moved away from me and sent a text on her mobile. After several agonising minutes she handed me her mobile with a big smile. On the screen I read STEVE, followed by his mobile number. I burst into tears of joy and relief. I wanted to phone him there and then, but I knew I needed to do some serious de-stressing first to be at my best for him. “Julia, please take me home”, I sniffed as I dabbed at my eyes with a tissue she had given me.

Back at my flat I changed into my favourite Chinese-style dressing gown in dark blue silk with a picture of swans in flight on the back, and my favourite pink ballet slippers that I wear every day. I ran a bath with my favourite scented oil, dimmed the lights and lit some candles, put some of my favourite romantic ballet music on the CD player, poured myself a large glass of chilled white wine and took out a box of chocolates from the fridge. Then I shed my dressing gown and slid my feet from my ballet slippers and, with a deep satisfied purr, eased myself into the deliciously soft and scented warm water and felt the mountain of foam close in over me. At that very moment the cordless phone, which I had placed in readiness on a chair next to the bath, rang. Before I picked it up I knew for certain it was him.