Monday, November 02, 2009

fff #7- explicit

this flash fiction friday i stuck with the idea of a 'loose' trigger:
the only word the voice on the phone said was...

i was entirely unready. i came not knowing what to expect, and it was just as well, since any expectation i had would’ve been false – nothing in my life had prepared me for this.
i thought i was coming to discuss the expansion and potential future diversification of our line of ladies’ delicates – in explanation of how unprepared i was, let me say that my involvement in the sale of ladies’ delicates was a shocking stretch in the first place; my parents and fiancé had no idea what i did, and i intended that they never would. i’d stumbled into the job alongside my only other risky adventure to date, an affair that i felt i owed myself before marrying the only man i’d ever had sex with, and i planned to limit both to as little time as it took to get myself set up.
i met my affair (and boss) through a friend of a friend of a friend who knew i was good at my work, looking for an opportunity, and, i suppose, discreet. i’m sure it didn’t hurt that i looked good in and maintained a wardrobe of the products in question, then unaware of how differently intimate i’d become with my intimate apparel. i was thrilled at a job prospect and asked no questions about the line of business, content to find out at the meeting i hoped would get me started in the life and lifestyle i wanted for myself – i was in love (at least, i persuaded myself i was) and trusted richard (his devotion and simplicity were the appeal) but wanted power and control over my own life. i refused to live like my mother, forever dependant on my father and forced to tolerate+facilitate his every whim, from entertaining his boys however and whenever he saw fit, to his mistresses and outside children.
adrian was immediately impressed with my qualifications, and further impressed with my special skills – just because i’d only been with one man didn’t mean i’d neglected my repertoire; i wanted to make sure i’d continue enjoying richard. and adrian was doing his part to teach me more about both business and pleasure.
he demanded my presence at this meeting with little briefing, except to request that i wear something from our line (as always) and my poker face. the only oddity was that the client wanted to call at their discretion to tell us where to go and he gave them my number, so i was not to leave my phone unattended or unanswered for a moment until we got word – seemed strange, but if he was willing to go along with the arrangement…
the only word the voice on the phone said was, “national”. then there was a definite click; the caller had said all they deemed necessary. adrian said he knew what that meant. when he told me what time the car would collect me i was surprised, but figured if they wanted to meet after-hours, that was their business. i was being paid more than well enough, and since richard already knew i couldn’t talk about my boss’ business, once a car was being sent for me as usual and he was assured of my safety, he didn’t fuss too much. i reassured him these wouldn’t become regular working hours for me, and for now, he was content in his trust in me.
we sat at one end of what appeared to be a runway and without any orders taken, cocktails were presented by a gorgeous young woman wearing only one of our matching bra+thong sets and a tiny white apron, our best-selling thigh-high garter stockings, and heels i wrongly presumed her own.
the only other person in the room stepped onto the runway a moment later and quietly explained that everything we saw on any of his people that wasn’t already part of our line was a product being pitched tonight. i glanced sideways at the girl’s black peep-toes and smiled. this could be fun, and even if we didn’t want anything we were shown i’d certainly leave with new ideas…
the show started innocuously enough with variations on what we already produced, new fabrics, including leather bondage-type items, more risqué cuts, accessories, etc. i loved seeing items for men; i’d been thinking about suggesting the same addition to adrian. then we were beckoned by our waitress up the runway and backstage, which was outfitted like a store with everything we’d seen modelled on display. there was a black door to the back and as we followed her through she explained that the last part of the pitch was an addition to the physical store. as my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting i nearly stopped breathing.
the centrepiece was a male model in a leather jockstrap, bound by his wrists to the ceiling, blindfolded+gagged, being whipped by a woman in nothing but knee-high black patent high-heeled boots and a jewelled mask. as my eyes adjusted further i realised that the room was populated by models in delicates even more dangerous than we’d seen on the runway, pleasuring each other and themselves with an array of toys and accessories. our waitress reiterated what our host had said about everything we saw being part of the pitch and i turned to adrian, unsure how “we” felt about the scene.
before i could say anything, he snatched my arms behind me and i heard the softly menacing click of cold steel. he clapped a hand over my mouth and gestured, and our waitress expertly gagged me with a ball like the whipping boy’s. she produced a small knife and sliced easily through my dress, leaving me in my favourite underwear and heels. now i was terrified – handcuffed, gagged, uncertain of where exactly we were, scared of adrian’s intentions – i realised how stupidly vulnerable i was, unsure whether i should even run for the door to be discovered in my current condition.
i stood trembling in my heels, looking wildly around the room for any sign of assistance. our waitress dropped to her knees and adrian took a step back for a better view, as she began decorating my inner thighs with little curlicues of her hot, wet tongue. i was torn between the sensation she was generating and fear, still not knowing how far this would go but knowing i was powerless to stop it.
as her tongue reached the crotch of my panties, the light in the room began to change. it slowly brightened and i realised that while i was distracted, the other players in the room had somehow disappeared, leaving only adrian and our waitress, who now inclined her head slightly to him and backed out of the room.
i looked at him in confusion, and now, building anger at this game. he stepped to me, slid my traitorously damp panties to the ground and lifted my feet one at a time out of them, and while still on his knees wrapped his arms around my thighs. he flicked his tongue quickly, brilliantly, over my clitoris and paused to look up at my face. desire and rage battled inside me.
“when i finish treating you to my personal services, you can tell me what you think of the idea for our store’s ‘back door’…”


walk good.

2 Comments:

Blogger Ivo Serenthà said...

My compliments for your blog and pictures included,I encourage to photoblog,

http://photosphera01.spaces.live.com

Greetings from Italy,

Marlow

4:12 pm  
Blogger willl said...

i'm pissed at myself for missing this fff. i love your story though. this is great.

8:29 pm  

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