The late afternoon sun slanted down into the courtyard. She stopped her car and looked around. The scene looked familiar from her first visit, but, at the same time, felt foreign and scary.
After texting back and forth, they had agreed she would come on Sunday evening, so she could settle in before ‘work’ began the next morning. Unfastening her seatbelt, she turned to look at her suitcase laying on the back seat. He had assured her that she wouldn’t need to pack much, which made her wonder if she was supposed to be naked all the time. The possibility troubled her, but she had decided she would cross that bridge, when and if she got to it.
The screen door to the main house banged closed, and she quickly looked up to see Erik ambling across the courtyard. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then opened her door and stepped out. He came up to her, showing the same casual confidence he always seemed to have. She was nervous, but his smile felt genuine, which helped ease the knots in her stomach. He called out warmly, “Welcome back. I’m really glad you decided to try this out.”
She smiled hesitantly in return. He came closer and lightly took both her hands in his. Then he leaned forward and softly kissed her on the cheek. Stepping back, he pointed to a wooden section set into the stone retaining wall on the uphill side of the courtyard. She could see the slope of the hill peaking above the retaining wall. Green tendrils of some flowering plants spilled over the lip of the wall. Erik said, “That’s the garage. I’ll open the doors so you can pull in.”
He walked over to the right side of the wood portion and opened a small panel hidden in the stonework, then punched a code into a keypad. The wood timbers swung back, splitting in the middle, revealing themselves to be doors opening into the hill. In the darkness behind the doors, she could see lights flickering on. As the interior lit up, the garage looked much larger than she had first thought. The whole thing was hidden away under the sloping hill that rose up behind the courtyard.
He waved at her, “Come on. Pull your car in.” She waved back to him and got back into her car. Yanking the door shut, she stepped on the clutch and started up her car, ignoring the “beep, beep” of the seat belt warning. Driving carefully forward, she followed him as he walked through the doors. The space inside looked as big as a basketball court, although not as tall. The floor was painted gray, contrasting crisply with the white walls and ceiling.
He motioned her to an empty spot, between an old jeep and a fancy-looking sports car that she didn’t recognize. There were several other cars in the garage, along with a small tractor. Some of the other cars looked expensive to her, although not all of them. She counted eight cars in all, including hers. She was glad that at least the jeep looked older and more beat-up than her hand-me-down Nissan.
Along the far wall of the garage were work benches and tool cabinets. Everything was clean and neat, which was different from any garage she had known growing up. She snorted, amused by the idea that this is how the rich lived. Erik walked over to one of the tool cabinets, opened a drawer, and took something out.
She tried to shake off her dislocated feeling, as though she had stepped into some sort of fantasy world. “Well,” she said quietly, looking at herself in the rear view mirror, “it’s time to see if I can live the life of a rich playboy’s toy.”
She got out of the car as he walked up. “Welcome to the Bat Cave,” he joked, opening his arms to indicate the underground garage. “It’s a bit silly, sort of an adolescent fantasy really. In truth, though, when we were working on the plans for this place, any building large enough for all these cars was just too big, ugly, and out of place. So the architect tried fitting part of the garage back into the hillside, and well… this is where we ended up.”
He held up a miniature keypad, which she realized was what he must have gotten out of the drawer. “This is a remote that you can use to open and close the garage door. If you give me a four digit pin code, I’ll program it in. I’ll also set it up so you can use it for all the outside doors.”
She thought for a moment and gave him the year she was born. He nodded, “Okay, but let me start it with a ‘nine’ instead of a ‘one.’ It’ll be harder for some random person to guess.” He tapped in a series of numbers and then handed it to her, “You’re all set. Let me grab your suitcase.”
“So… is this a geek side of you that I didn’t see before?”
He seemed a bit surprised by her question, thought about it for a moment and agreed, “Yep, there’s a part of me that loves technology and toys. Of course, I’m certain that inside of every supposedly adult male there’s a hidden adolescent, yearning to be free.” He opened up the rear door of her car and pulled out her suitcase.
“I don’t know Erik, for a lot of guys, that adolescent ain’t so hidden.”
“Yeah, well some guys wear it on their sleeve. For me, it’s hard to do the sort of work I do if an adolescent is in charge. I’ve also discovered that it’s a useful advantage in an adult world to actually be an adult.”
“Well, that makes sense, and I certainly can’t argue that it’s worked out pretty well for you, so far.” They started walking together toward the open door to the courtyard. “I’ve got to admit, though, the whole James Bond bit with the garage and the zoomie cars – that’s a side of you that I’ll have to keep in mind.”
He nodded in reply, with a casually self-deprecating smile.
Once they walked through the garage doorway, he entered a code into an outside keypad and the doors began to swing shut. “You just have to enter your four digit pin here, and they’ll close.” As they started across the courtyard, he asked, “So, do you have anything against ‘zoomie’ cars?”
“Oh, not really. Just not the sort of thing I’ve ever driven.” She was quiet for a moment, then continued, “I guess all the guys I’ve ever know with a flashy car were real jerks – kind of biased me against them.”
“Do you drive a stick?”
“Uh, sure, but what’s the connection?”
“All shall be revealed tomorrow.”
“Yeah, about tomorrow… um, do I get any warning about what to expect?”
“We’ll talk a bit later tonight. But mostly, I just want it to be something you experience. Don’t worry, I think it will be a lot of fun.” He opened the screen door to the main house. “Right now, why don’t you take some time to unpack and freshen up for dinner.”
Walking into the house, Melissa caught a whiff of wonderful cooking smells. She suddenly realized that she was hungry. She had been so nervous all day that she hadn’t eaten much.
The screen door banged shut behind them, startling her. She realized she was still very nervous.
The house looked the same to her, its several levels stepping down toward the view out to the patio, with the meadow and creek down the slope beyond the patio wall. Erik stepped past with her suitcase and nodded, “This way.”
She followed him down to the middle level and off to the right, past the dining table. He went down a richly carpeted corridor, with stone lining the right wall and wood paneling on the left. Compared to the late afternoon sun outside, the corridor was dimly lit. She could see two doors spaced along the wood paneling. The second door was open, and some light spilled out into the corridor. The far end of the corridor opened into a small alcove, with stairs leading down to the left. He led them through the open second door.
Melissa stopped as she crossed the threshold, looking around at a beautifully appointed, but somewhat impersonal bedroom. It was a comfortable size, with a small sitting area. Waist-height windows overlooked a roof slanting away below, with the meadow and stream visible in the distance. The late day sun slanted through the windows, giving the whole room a warm golden glow. She could see a bathroom off to the left and two doors to what she assumed were closets on the right. The bed was against the wall where she had walked in.
Erik put her suitcase on the far side of the bed, near the dresser and closets. He looked up at her, waiting for her reaction. She cleared her throat nervously, “Is this your room?”
“No, no. It’s one of the guest rooms. If you go down the stairs at the end of the hall, that’s the most direct way to my room.”
“Oh. I didn’t know… I wasn’t sure what to expect.”
“I wanted you to have a room of your own, a place that is just yours. As for the rest, well yes, I suspect we’ll be spending a reasonable amount of time in my room.”
He opened the closet doors, exposing a huge, wood-lined walk-in closet, shaped like a ‘U.’ She could see that there were already a few clothes and shoes in the closet. He noticed her looking and said, “I picked up a few things for you.” He walked into the closet. Crossing to the back, he lifted a black dress off a hanger and bent down to pick up a pair of black high-heeled sandals. Coming back out into the bedroom, he set those on the bed, next to her suitcase. Then he went back to the closet and gathered something else off a shelf, which he laid next the dress and shoes. Melissa couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but she saw black leather and some shiny metal.
Erik looked around, “Well, why don’t you unpack, take a shower, whatever. Dinner will be in an hour. Wear only what I just picked out for you.”
He walked to the door, “See you then.” Closing the door behind him, he left her alone in the room.
For a couple of minutes, Melissa wandered aimlessly around the room, not sure what to do. Even though the room was beautiful and soothing, her nerves were jangling. She sat in one of the chairs and hunched over, cradling her head in her hands, “I have no fucking idea what I’m doing here.”
After a moment, she whispered back to herself, “Oh that’s right, I’m a sex slave. Better get to it. ‘Yes, Master. No, Master. Whatever the fuck you say, Master.’”
She took a last look around, deciding that her allowed time for self-pity had expired. Reminding herself that it was a job, she stood up and walked over to unpack her suitcase. “Hey, I’m making good money, even if it’s only one step above being a whore… if that.” Despite her misgivings, she knew it was time to move ahead. She had always done her best in whatever job she had, even the summer she had worked in a fast food restaurant.
In her first trip to the closet, she checked out the dresses and shoes he had gotten for her. He seemed partial to silk, linen, and open weave cotton. They were all beautiful, but she decided there was no way she was going to be able to wear half of the outfits out of the house – certainly if she wasn’t going to be allowed any underwear.
Almost all of the shoes had extremely high heels. She was amazed, and then a little uneasy that he knew her shoe size. She guessed that he must have snuck a look at the shoe size from her sneakers when she was in the creek. She kicked off the flats she was wearing and tried on several of the shoes. Even though the shoes were outrageously high, she reminded herself that she owned a pair that was nearly as bad. Of the ones she tried on, she really loved two of them. Now that she was looking at them closely, she realized that all of the shoes were from high-end stores and really quite beautiful, despite none of them seeming to have a heel less than five inches tall. At least they weren’t the sleazy white-trash tramp shoes she first thought that they might be.
She decided that Erik might be kinky, and – given the height of the heels – a little impractical, but at least he had good taste. She slipped her feet into a pair of pastel tapestry pumps and reached down to pull on the heels. They felt surprisingly comfortable. Looking in the full-length mirror, she decided they were her favorite pair. She kept them on as she explored the rest of the closet.
The dark wood shelves of the closet, she discovered, contained more than just a nice selection of tops and leggings, which she had seen at first glance. There was an entire shelf of collars, mostly black leather. Another shelf held leather cuffs, which she guessed were for her wrists and ankles. She slipped one of the padded cuffs over her wrist, feeling the press of cool soft leather wrapped around her. Despite her expectation that she would hate wearing cuffs, her body’s response was a quickening heartbeat and a sudden clenching of her sex. Stroking the leather cuff alongside her cheek, it felt buttery smooth and soft. She breathed in the scent of the leather.
As she stepped closer to the mirror to see herself better, she realized that her labia were already slippery. She had freshly shaved herself bare that morning, which always made her more aware of when she was getting wet. Per Erik’s instructions, she also hadn’t worn panties under her jean skirt. The air moving past her dampened labia was suddenly very noticeable.
Sliding out a drawer, she discovered a selection of beautifully detailed corsets, along with stockings and garters. She rubbed some of the stockings together and decided that they must be silk. Going through the drawers, she became steadily more conscious of the pulsating warmth between her legs. Looking down, she was not surprised to see her nipples jutting out against the fabric of her blouse. Even though she had some serious misgivings about how comfortable it would be not to wear a bra all summer, there was no doubt that the feel of loose fabric brushing against her nipples would be wonderfully distracting, especially when her nipples were already this tight and hard.
Reaching up, she lightly ran a hand over her right breast, trembling as her fingers made contact with her straining nipple. Taking it between her thumb and forefinger, she squeezed gently, shuddering as she increased the pressure.
Letting up a little, she used her free hand to pull open the next drawer, revealing a collection of sex toys and vibrators. She ran her hand across a wide variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. One toy looked like two large flattened purple raindrops, connected at their tails, and then folded over in a ‘U’ shape. She picked it up. When she squeezed one end, it started to buzz quietly in vibration.
Intrigued, she slid one end up between her labia. It nestled in against her G-spot, and she moaned, barely catching herself as she teetered forward on her heels. She thought about kicking the shoes off, but seeing herself again in the full-length mirror, she whispered, “Damn, I really do look hot in these.”
Keeping the shoes on, she shifted into a wider stance and braced herself against the shelves. Then she pressed the ‘U’ of the toy closed, trapping her clitoris and G-spot between the two vibrating petals. Her breath shortened as she started to moan in quick little gasps. Her hips began to buck, even before her orgasm started. She enjoyed the intensity of her orgasm as it gripped her. After she thought she was done, there were several more shuddering after-shocks that took her by surprise. When everything finally subsided, she drew a deep breath and discovered she was so wobbly that she could barely remain standing.
Carefully slumping to a sitting position on the soft carpet, she rested with her back against the opposite set of drawers and her legs splayed out in front of her. Seeing the colorful pumps, she decided that she definitely liked them, and she really, really liked the vibrator. She looked back into the mirror, admiring her bare legs, framed by the jean skirt, which had slid nearly up to her hips. She raised a knee, so she could just see her shaved labia, glistening in the mirror. Reaching down, she deliberately stroked herself, teasing herself through her reflection.
It seemed like being a sex slave might be a lot better than making fast food hamburgers all summer.
A half hour later, she had finished unpacking and taken a quick shower. She went back over to the bed to consider the outfit that he had picked out for her. She had looked at it before she unpacked. The dress was mid-calf tea length, with shoulder straps and buttons all the way up the front. Its style was summer evening dressy, in black chiffon silk lace. She had to look carefully, but she found where the opaque nude lining had been carefully removed, leaving only a nearly-transparent layer of thin silk lace. She hadn’t yet tried it on, but she was certain that it would leave very little to the imagination.
She had first categorized the shoes as generic high-heeled “fuck me” strappy sandals. When she had looked at them closer, she saw that they were Italian, real leather, and beautifully made. After reconsidering the shoes, she decided that they were still high-heeled “fuck me” strappy sandals – just a higher class of “fuck me.”
The third, and last, thing he had left for her to wear caused her a bit of anxiety. It had turned out to be a black leather collar, with a small o-ring riveted to the front and a short leash snapped onto the o-ring. The leash was a shiny metal chain, ending in a black leather wrist strap. She had picked up the collar briefly and held it up to her neck, then looked in the mirror. The leash had hung to just a little below her waist.
The leash and collar now lay on the bed, where she had dropped them before unpacking. The metal links looked like a shiny puddle on the comforter. Reaching down, she picked up the collar again. The leather was cool and buttery soft. The leash’s chain rattled softly as she lifted the collar back up to her neck and fastened it behind her. She flinched when the cool metal of the chain draped across her torso. Her skin was still steamy warm from her hot shower. Looking in the mirror, she could see that her areolae had almost instantly crinkled tightly and her nipples had popped up stiffly. She took a deep breath to calm her clanging nerve endings, which were protesting the sudden cold of the metal. In the mirror, she couldn’t help but notice how the metal chain slid up and down between her breasts as she breathed.
She quietly asked the empty room, “Who would have known that wearing a leash was such a turn-on?”
Picking up the sandals, she sat down on the edge of the bed. As the lower portion of the still-cold metal chain pooled across her labia, she gasped. Groaning quietly, she waited for her skin to adjust to the cool metal. After a long moment, the intensity faded, and she bent over to slip on one shoe. Once she figured out how to fasten the ankle closure, she sat back up to get the other shoe. Her motion caused a different part of the metal chain to slide across her pubic mound. The metal’s cool smoothness sparked shivers, causing goosebumps on her thighs.
She also realized that her sex was slick with wetness once again. She shook her head, realizing that her careful washing in the shower hadn’t lasted long.
Looking down, she saw the chain dangling between her breasts, with at least several inches puddled between her legs, resting against her labia. With a guilty smile, she opened her legs and gently smoothed the chain out into a line, letting the flattened links run between her labia. When her hand reached the leather strap, she pulled slowly downward, watching the chain disappear between her labia.
The coolness of the metal made her groan again. She tugged down harder, gasping as the smooth chain came in contact with her clitoris and then slid across it. Pausing a moment to let the intensity subside, she realized that her heart was pounding, and her breathing was ragged.
She set down the shoe she had been holding in her other hand and grasped the leash above where it disappeared between her smooth labia. Sliding the leash upward, she could feel every link in the chain as it slid past her clitoris. Each link tugged softly on the hood of her clitoris, lifting it up to expose her aching, throbbing core to the next smooth, slick link of rapidly warming metal. Well before she reached the end of her chain, an orgasm began trembling through her. She shuddered and gasped, pulling the chain tightly against herself, which set loose the full power of her orgasm, exploding in a bucking inferno. Suddenly, she realized she was yelling. She froze in silence, horribly embarrassed.
She looked around, quickly coming back to her senses. She whispered to herself, “Oh shit! He’s got to have heard that.” She looked fearfully at the door, worried he would come storming into the room.
Then she looked back at her reflection in the mirror and laughed. She felt silly, sitting there naked, not allowed any underwear, wearing his collar and leash, and being worried about whether or not she was allowed to be sexual.
Picking up the second shoe again, she bent over and put it on. When she straightened back up, she carefully extracted the leash from between her labia. The whole lower end was coated in her slickness. Worried about being on time, she stood up quickly and found herself teetering for a moment on the sandals. They had a whisper thin sole, and the heels felt as though they were at least five inches tall. She caught her balance, realizing that she was also a little wobbly and lightheaded from her orgasm.
Hurrying carefully into the bathroom, she washed off the leash and touched up her make-up. She poked her head back out to check the time and decided she could afford a minute to dry off the chain. Checking her appearance in the mirror, she grinned at the wanton image reflected back – naked except for expensive black “fuck me” heels, black leather collar, and a chain. She noticed the light glistening off her wet labia, which were still engorged and spread open.
She quickly reached to grab some Kleenex but stopped herself in mid-reach. Straightening back up, she appraised her image in the mirror again. Deciding that her aroused state was perfectly in keeping with the outrageousness of the rest of her image, she went back into the bedroom to put on her dress.
After pulling the dress on, she turned back and forth in front of the mirror, confirming that it was nearly transparent, at least in the right light. Wearing it made her feel odd. It physically felt like a real dress. In her peripheral vision, when she caught her reflected image in one of the room’s full-length mirrors, it looked like a real dress. When she looked more carefully, however, the fabric was only about as obscuring as pantyhose.
“Oh well,” she thought as she fished the leash out from underneath the front of the dress, “it’s not like we’re going out clubbing. Hell, this doesn’t even qualify as clubwear. It’s way too pretty… and way more revealing than anything I’d wear, or anything I’ve ever seen someone else wear.” She found herself wondering, though, what it might be like to wear something like this around other people. The leash and collar would almost be scarier to wear at a club than the dress. The shoes, though, she wanted to keep.
Walking out her bedroom door, she wondered for a moment what would happen when the summer was over. “Silly,” she told herself, “my summer job hasn’t even officially begun and I’m worrying about whether I can keep the clothes when I’m done.”
Walking down the corridor, she heard a pot lid clanging in the kitchen. Delicious smells grew in strength, reminding her that she was starving. All her worries about the end of the summer vanished, pushed aside by her growling stomach and her fears about the start of her job.