Holly’s First Night Ch. 03

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Continuing my journey of discovery, my best friend tutors me in something I’d only heard of.

On Sunday morning we just lay together in her bed; my head on her shoulder felt so right, so natural. Later we lazed around in our PJs, watching TV. Breakfast, if I remember was just marmalade on toast, but it was totally delicious. I think about two o’clock in the afternoon we finally showered and dressed and went to find somewhere to eat, then we went home and so to bed together. She had learnt all my buttons and could keep me lingering in that space between outright ecstasy and frustration for hours.

The next day being a Monday we kind of returned to our normal routine; lectures, study and desperately derivative essay writing for me, whilst Zoe just continued to drift through her lectures absorbing everything with seemingly little effort. When she came back to the flat that night I was really glad to see her. She shrugged off the black leather courier bag she usually took with her to Uni, then unbuckled her coat in the doorway.

“Miss me?” she asked teasingly, knowing the answer.

I stood and walked over to greet her properly, brushing her lips with mine.

“Of course.” I responded, nuzzling her ear.

We kissed again, more passionately this time, I pulled her close, feeling our breasts come together, to sets of soft pillowy flesh as I kneaded her arse through her tight jeans. I stepped back as we broke for air.

“How do you always manage to look so hot when I feel like a dowdy bitch?” I asked.

“Careful what you wish for” she grinned back at me.

It was true though, she had on a simple light blue blouse, open to show just the top of her cleavage, skin tight blue jeans and black leather calf length boots with a two inch heel. She was wearing some foundation, a hint of blush and eyeliner and her lips looked glossy. She was at that moment just the hottest woman I’d ever seen, although to be fair I hadn’t really looked at women in that way before last Friday.

“What’s for tea?” She asked.

“I don’t know, I thought we’d maybe go out, or get a takeaway.”

“Holly I know you got a lot of money on Friday and it’s burning a hole in your purse, but you need to remember your goals in this game, don’t go frittering it all away.”

She was right, I knew. Friday night’s impromptu and unplanned assignation with her and two very generous Africans had left me two grand richer, just for one night of fun. Zoe treated it like a business, saving that money for her future. She had introduced me to Alexandra, the woman who ran the agency that arranged meetings between wealthy visitors and British escorts.

Although I hadn’t been part of the arrangements Jamal and Kwaze had persuaded Zoe to invite me over to their little ‘party’ where I had done things I’d never thought of before…and I’d liked it. In the couple of days since then she and I had slept together and made love together. I don’t think I would classify us as lesbians, more bisexual I guess. I hadn’t had any idea how much a woman could pleasure me, though I was pretty certain it wasn’t Zoe’s first time.

She must have seen the disappointment on my face as she said those words because she then followed up with

“Okay, why not, I got us a couple of little presents for later anyway.”

“Really? What?”

“You’ll see in due course, now why don’t you take that pretty little arse and get yourself ready. We’ll aim to go out for seven?”

I grinned, gave her a peck on the cheek and went into my room, as excited as a child waiting for Christmas Eve to turn into Christmas Day. Then the reality hit me. I didn’t really have anything to wear out if we were going to somewhere posh. It was also true that under my mattress was a brown envelope with five thousand pounds in used twenties, but I hadn’t done anything about my rather plain student wardrobe.

I went to Zoe’s room and knocked on the door.

“Zo? I don’t really have anything to wear.” I shouted through the door, uncertain as to whether I could just go straight in.

“That’s okay,” she shouted from what sounded like the toilet, “I thought we’d just go to Chan’s. Jeans and a top, you’ll look sexy enough for me.”

“Uh…Okay then.” I replied, feeling irrationally disappointed.

I don’t really know what I’d expected, but it seemed we were going out as friends, not on a date but just in order to fuel the body. I went back to my room, selected one of the few remaining blouses that was on a hanger and wouldn’t need ironing; a silky looking rich purple number with a high lacy collar that was probably a couple of years old, from the back of the wardrobe, checked my jeans still looked clean and found a pair of court shoes with one inch kitten heels that didn’t look too scuffed.

Tying my hair into a high pony tail finished the look as I applied my make-up. It was too late to do anything about my nails but then I figured ‘it’s not a date’ so don’t worry. Checking myself out in the three quarter length mirror I thought I looked pretty good, as I shrugged özbek escort on a long overcoat.

I went to wait for Zoe, vowing that tomorrow I was going to go clothes shopping.

Chan’s is one of those anonymous, but familiar cheap Chinese restaurants. The staff were likely all from the same Hong Kong family who seemed to rotate through these establishments every few years. Being a Monday night it was fairly quiet so we easily got a secluded booth where we could talk without being overheard. We ordered a couple of beers whilst looking at the menu. I think I chose crispy pancakes as a starter and Zoe had the Mongolian ribs, then we followed up by sharing some Char Sui Pork and Crispy Chili Beef with a side of House Special Fried Rice.

As we ate Zoe dropped the bombshell.

“I spoke with Alexandra earlier,” she said.

“Oh?” I wondered where this might go.

“I thought it only right to tell her about Friday night.”

Friday night; the night she had invited me to share her engagement as an escort to two men.

“Umm hmmm,” I responded, trying to be non-committal. I knew that if I could get a gig with Alexandra’s team I wouldn’t have to worry about money for a few months, which was really important to me right then, but I hadn’t been accepted onto her books yet so I was unsure how this would play out.

“She was impressed when I told her what had happened.” said Zoe.

“Really?” was all I could manage.

“Well she was pissed off with me for inviting a civilian in to be honest,” she said, looking me directly in the eye, “but I told her I thought you were better than anyone else I’d worked with.”

I felt a little surge of pride at these words, coupled with jealousy that we weren’t exclusive.

“You know a black and white team would command a premium?” she asked.

I had no idea, but from my research into porn sites it seemed to make sense. There was a big market to watch girls together, there was an equally big market for interracial sex scenes so it was kind of a no-brainer to me.

“Alexandra asked me to check you out thoroughly.” she said.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I asked, giggling and pleased I was descending into grown up hooker talk.

“You’ll see soon enough” was her only reply.

After that we discussed the merits of the latest X Factor finalists cover of David Bowies Heroes (rubbish according to Zoe Allen) verses the classic Christmas Number One by Jona Lewie (brilliant according to me, Holly Eliza Jordan).

One of the competitors had released an ‘insipid, vapid song’, a cover of something far more inspirational according to Zoe, but it would undoubtedly reach number one this year.

Designs from the 1950’s were making a comeback and the latest iPhone 4 had suddenly become available for a woman of my means. It certainly had to be better than my trusty boring old Nokia.

Just as we were finishing our dessert; banana fritter and ice cream for me, pineapple for Zoe she asked an unexpected question.

“Have you ever been in a situation where you/re not in control? I mean in any way? Where someone decides what you must do? What happens to you? Total surrender of your mind and body?”

“No. Shit I think that’s really scary to be honest. I don’t think I could ever do that.”

“Quite a few of my clients have liked that y’know. You should try it, see what it’s like.”

“Really?” I asked, disbelievingly.

“Sure, I think for them it’s a release, a means of letting go in a safe environment. I’ve had some…very generous tips from a few men and women like that.”

“You’re kidding me, you’re a, a dominatrix?”

She merely arched her eyebrows at me.

“I don’t believe you.” I said.

Although perhaps I could imagine her strutting regally. I had after all thought of her as my Queen only a couple of nights ago hadn’t I?

“It’s true, but only occasionally. It can be pretty intense, and you have to make sure you keep your client safe.”

“Like not whip them to death?”

“Well yeah, there is that, but it’s about fulfilling their fantasy properly, doing that and not marking them or injuring them. Making sure they have a safe word, that sort of thing.”

Something was niggling at the back of my mind.

“Sorry, did you say a minute ago men AND women like this?”

“Yeah, oh come on, you must have had your arse pinched or spanked during, y’know with someone. Don’t tell me it didn’t add to the moment.”

I think the way my cheeks flushed red answered her clearly before I could even try to assemble an answer. She smiled.

“It’s natural Holly, a little pain can be so very good. Endorphins and that.”

It made sense I supposed.

“Now what was I saying? Oh yeah, safe words. If it’s someone’s fantasy to be tied up and flogged and they’re saying ‘no, no’ all the time is that because you’re hurting them, or that’s a part of their little fantasy scene? D’you see what I mean?”

I did, sort of, so I nodded.

“Right, mecidiyeköy escort good. So anyway you have a safe word that doesn’t sound anything like ‘no’. That way your date can warn you if things are too intense without any doubt about the meaning. I usually tell them to use ‘yellow’ for ‘that’s getting to my limits’ and ‘red’ for ‘stop right now’.”

“But what about foreigners? Or is it only the British who go in for this?”

“In French it’s ‘jaune’ and ‘rouge’, German it’s ‘gelb’ and ‘rot’, Japanese it’s ‘ki’ and ‘aka’. As long as you both know the meaning and it can’t be mistaken when they speak it will work.”

“Red and yellow? Right”. I looked at my watch, it was just past nine.

“Shall we go?”

I distinctly remember that babble; in light of later events I’m not too sure who I was trying to convince.

The walk back to our flat was only about twenty minutes, ample time to work off the hefty fulfilment of a start-of-the-week Chinese meal, we were home before the Ten O’clock News began.

As I opened the door to the flat Zoe took me by the upper arm.

“Holly, I want you to go get freshened up, then come to my room, naked.”

I thrilled to hear her words, especially after the conversation at Chan’s. Had she been planning this all along I wondered as I hurried into my bathroom, stripping off my clothes. I had a quick shower, then re-applied my make-up, which meant it was closer to thirty minutes rather than the ten Zoe had suggested. The light was off in her room, and despite me flicking the wall switch it didn’t come on.

“Close the door and leave the lights off Holly,” I heard Zoe’s voice, “sit on the edge of the bed.”

I stumbled forward, my eyes not yet ready to deal with the gloom in her room. Feeling the edge of her bed with my shin I turned and sat. I could sense, rather than see Zoe’s presence, she had been behind the door. Now, as she came forward I could vaguely see little reflections of light on her clothing; it seemed shiny somehow.

“You trust me don’t you Holly?”

“Yes.” I answered in a small voice. To be truthful I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but I knew I trusted Zoe not to harm me.

“Put your hands out in front of you, palms down.” I did as I was told and, as I felt her placing soft leather cuffs around my wrists, securing them, but not too tightly.

“You trust me don’t you Holly?”

“Yes.” I answered again.

“You will do anything for me, won’t you Holly?” Her voice seemed to be so soft, seductive, hypnotic, I couldn’t help but do what she wanted.


“Stand up for me Holly.” I stood, and knew she was right by my side. Close enough to smell…leather?

A flutter of excitement in the pit of my stomach and, finally, my eyes were adjusting to the darkness. I could just make her out now, her silhouette at least. A polished, shiny overbust corset with a black leather miniskirt, some kind of separate sleeves, fishnet tights or stockings, I couldn’t be quite sure, and a pair of glossy overknee boots completed her outfit. She held something out to me.

“Open your mouth Holly.”

As I did so she placed the ball-gag in my mouth and deftly fastened it behind my head.

“You remember what we said about safe words Holly?” she asked.

The gag made it impossible for me to speak, I could only nod.

“Good, do you wish to carry on?”

Again I nodded.

“There’s my girl. Turn around.” As I did so she covered my eyes with something, a blindfold of some sort.

“Now, don’t move.” she said, tilting my chin gently upwards.

Right then I surrendered myself to her; I was totally lost to her power as she placed a thick, well padded collar around my neck, fastening it so my head remained tilted up-right.

She came close to me, I could smell her perfume, feel her sweet breath on my shoulder as she whispered in my ear.

“You are mine now. My slave. I shall use you as I want. You have no rights, you are here for my pleasure alone.”

She placed her hand on my mound, her index finger over my clitoris. She slowly drew it up, stretching the soft little hood until her nail scraped over it.

“You will not cum without my permission.” She said, circling my little pleasure button, causing me to involuntarily shudder and squeeze my thighs together.

She quickly withdrew her hand and grabbed both my nipples, squeezing and twisting them.

“You obviously didn’t hear me, slave.”

She squeezed harder, pulling at them as well now.

“You are mine, you do only what I tell you. Understand?”

I could only nod as the tears ran down my cheeks. I couldn’t believe how badly I wanted this.

“Get on the bed on your hands and knees.”

I wanted to obey, eager to find out just what she had in mind, at the back of my mind I was a little fearful but very excited; the collar and blindfold were perhaps the most erotic things that had ever happened to me. My hesitation, however, cost me another nipple twisting, making me squeal through the azeri escort ball-gag. She pushed me forward and I stumbled onto the bed on all fours. It seemed much firmer now, like this, there was very little give in it.

A sharp stinging slap on my arse caught me totally by surprise as she said

“You will learn to obey me slave.”

I jerked forward instinctively before I felt her grab a fistful of my hair, pulling me back sharply. I squealed again, another slap on my arse then

“Do not move, or it will be the worse for you.”

A simple warning that despite my fearful sobs I obeyed. She let go of my hair and gently ran a hand soothingly up my spine as she walked around the bed.

A pause, then the sound of fabric being moved.

A metallic click as she fumbled with the cuff on each wrist.

Again her hand on my spine, this time going from my neck right down to the cleft between my buttocks. I arched my back at her touch, just like a cat.

At each ankle she fastened another cuff, tapping between my thighs to make me move my legs apart, then two more metallic clicks.


I was aware of a weight being placed on the bed in front of me, then a zip being unfastened, another movement, perhaps a bag or suitcase being opened. I could hear Zoe breathing softly now, and the sounds of her rummaging in the case; soft sounds and metallic sounds mingled together, maybe even the clink of glass. I had no idea what they could be. I was aware that my senses were straining, trying to make sense of what I could hear. Losing your sight must be a terrible thing.

A sharp intake of breath from Zoe, then the most painful, stinging agony across the full width of my arse. She hadn’t used her hand, she had something much more vicious. I yelped and sobbed as tears filled my eyes. Another blow, then another, never quite landing on the same spot, but seeming to criss-cross. I pulled my legs together as I instinctively tried to curl into a foetal ball; the position of so many victims of violence. I couldn’t move; I was shackled at my wrists, and ankles, there seemed to be a solid bar preventing me from protecting myself.

The blows continued, then stopped suddenly.

“Shh, my pet” she whispered as I whimpered.

Her hand on the small of my back, cool and soft as it gently stroked my stinging arse cheeks, rubbing the pain away momentarily. She covered my pussy with her hand, discovering my betrayal; I was so wet down there. I could feel her breath as she moved closer to inspect my undoubtedly glowing flesh. A dribble of wetness, her saliva, maybe, dripped onto my exposed arsehole, then she was teasing it with a thumb as she rubbed at my clit at the same time.

“Good.” was all she said.

Her hand masturbating me was starting to feel very good until she cruelly withdrew it. Then something like soft leather was drawn over my burning arse. I realised it must be a riding crop and, as she drew it back to hit me again, I flinched. The resulting blows were agony, but much more scary was her next move. She put it between my legs, short sharp little hits forcing me to spread wider. When I couldn’t expose myself further, she drew the crop over my pussy lips. I was fearful now that she would strike me there. I couldn’t imagine how painful that was going to be.

I soon learnt, although she didn’t put nearly as much effort into the blow as she could have and she only did it once. Then I felt her sit on the bed beside me, again touching my swollen pussy and clit she began to frig me at the same time as she renewed her attack on my arse cheeks with the crop. It was an insane sensation; the pain and pleasure began to blend as I lost all sense of the rest of the room, my world, my existence centred on the rhythmic abuse she was executing on my pussy and arse.

I was getting close to cumming, so close, when she withdrew. I moaned my disappointment, feeling slightly light-headed because the ball gag continued to restrict my breathing.

She came round to where my head was, her perfume enticing and heavy.

“Remember, you are mine slave, to do as I wish.”

That was it.

I could hear her rummaging in the bag again.

Multiple light fronds tickled my back, along my spine and over my arse. I found I was arching my back, pushing my arse up to get more attention.

It soon came. More blows, but unlike the concentrated agony of the crop this was like being stung by hundreds of tiny needles across the whole of my flesh. Occasionally for variety she would strike me in the small of my back, at the base of my spine, or across the back of my thighs. She even struck me on the sides of my ribcage, catching the soft globes of my tits as they hung there, exposed and vulnerable.

I was out of tears, out of sobs, strangely I was finding myself craving more and more of the pain. I rose to meet her blows, moaning my pleasure. Sometimes she would catch my arsehole or pussy and it felt so good.

“Beautiful,” she said, “your skin looks so beautiful like that. Good girl.”

She decreased the speed of her blows, spreading them across the whole of my body now, then dragged the flogger slowly across my tortured skin before striking again. I felt I was glowing and on the edge, desperate for her not to stop. But stop is precisely what she did.

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