Determined all the while to make no sound and actually wishing she’d been gagged, Ellie at last let a deep moan escape and sagged against the door. The swishing stopped. Shar’s fingers pushed her panties aside.

  ‘You are coming now.’ The beautiful finger found her, drew glittering micro tremors across her clitoris sending multi-coloured tingles up through her body until it reached her lips and sounded like a luxurious massaging ache feels. If the whip had been cruel then the fingertip was sadistic holding her off from coming, taking her higher even though she felt there was nowhere else to go except ...

  The detonation made her knees bang against the door. A groaning alien voice was her own, she realised, as the finger left her, as she sagged to the floor her legs tight together now but her obeying arms still spread the width of the door.

  Goosebumps swept over her but she wasn’t cold. She was panting but she wasn’t out of breath, wanting to breathe in this never-want-to-end moment, the feel and the taste and the smell of it.

  And she felt like a little girl again in her Mum’s kitchen waiting for the golden-shiny jelly to set. Now she was the jelly. Standing tall like a grown up was out of the question for this wonderful moment.

  ‘When you are able, you may stand. But face the door and be still.’

  It was Shar’s voice but it might as well have been a radio message from another planet. In the after-glow of the climax as all the firework sparks crackled and cascaded back to planet earth she became aware of her bum and its luxuriant warmth and deeper the almost painful sensitivity of her clitoris which seemed surreally in synch with the throb of her pulse as if it was actually her heart. And then mundanely, confirming her re-entry to planet earth, she realised she was hanging out of her bra and her panties were bunched to one side and cutting and she was on her knees resting her head against the door. She made a move towards decency but Shar’s voice stopped her.

  ‘I will do that. When you are able, get up, stand at arms length from the door so you are slightly bent forward. Spread your palms against it. Part your legs, slightly. I will make you comfortable.’

  The words shot searing colours through her and repeated themselves helpfully in her thoughts over and over waiting for her to obey. Although she really didn’t want to be back on planet earth the prospect of Shar’s reception was welcoming.

  The panting subsided gradually. Ellie got to her feet, uncertain, every movement evoking after shocks of the Ellie-quake she had just lived through. Shar’s talkative sensitive fingers coaxed her back into the bra, the kind touch of her fingers across over-sensitive nipples was melting.

  The bejewelled caress as Shar released her from the cut of the panties brought a sigh to Ellie’s lips. But the small loving kiss on the soft flesh of her naked back love-shivered pleasure.

  ‘Face me.’

  Her back now against the door Ellie gazed helpless in the thrall of Shar’s perfect face, fascinated by her lips.

  ‘Now you see how hard it will be to resist Jake. If I am Jake – what would I do now?’

  ‘You would fuck me.’

  Shar’s smile glittered with humour. ‘And do you need to be fucked right now?’

  Ellie shook her head aware that her smile bore the same creamy pleasure that was in Shar’s eyes.

  ‘Even wearing a strap-on I wouldn’t fuck you now. What should I do?’

  Ellie heard herself say, ‘Please kiss me.’

  Responding, the dominatrix in Shar’s eyes softened and in the candle-shine of truth revealed love. And mixed into the kiss – childhood memory uncensored surging on the race of their pulses.

  The kiss never ended but time moved forward and, fully dressed but feeling sensually naked, Ellie browsed through the bras in the shop without seeing while Shar, again in black T-shirt and jeans, flicked the sign on the shop door over to open.

  ‘Thank you,’ Shar was saying casually, at the counter now, ‘Your costume will be ready a week today. Here are your shoes. Practice makes perfect.’ Shar thrust an XL shoe box over the counter just as another customer entered. Ellie joined her at the counter.

  ‘May I phone you?’

  Shar’s eyes said no and that was enough.

  Leaving the shop, gravity slammed Ellie back into the real world noise of the street. But she had a secret. The warmth of her bottom. The on-going throb of her pulse. In her car, she peeked into the XL shoe box and the Hollywood heels, pale blue and glittering, challenged her.

  Part Three

  Chapter One

  Ellie sensed he might have been expecting the picture to change on Friday night but instead they’d made what could only be described as tetchy, selfish love. And it dissolved into routine sleep much as if it had been “work tomorrow” and as if the clock was ticking.

  It was.

  In the night Ellie crept down and changed the picture, heart thudding as she slid back into bed as if she’d just run a mile. ‘You have,’ Shar’s calming voice whispered through Ellie’s thoughts.

  Her final costume was hidden in the car. An innocent supermarket bag was hidden in the washing machine. ‘Everything you will need to keep control of the Game,’ Shar had said.

  At first Ellie thought sleep would be impossible but, settling against Jake’s deep-sleep breathing, she found a swelling tide of thoughts which took her feet off the beach and let her swim.

  On the beach, the costume, the heels and her mission all seemed impossible but – swimming – she was a goddess, she could move with grace and she could win this Game, retain control and give Jake what he would call “the ultimate”. Her outfit, as modelled by Shar in the locked, closed shop was as outrageous as it was elegant and glamorous. ‘I’ll never have the confidence ...’

  A cool, beautiful finger on her lips had been enough to end the sentence.

  Later, once Shar’s concentrated fitting was complete, the naked appreciation in those limitless eyes had charged Ellie with confidence, especially when she turned her round to face the mirror. ‘Look, just look.’

  Breakfast came and went. Ellie thought her heart would slam out through her chest as he went into the lounge to check out the Saturday morning sport on the TV.

  In the kitchen, she started to wash up the breakfast things. Her ears listening with the precision of a cat as he went “unexpectedly” upstairs Hot Sports News blaring behind him.

  He would find a zipped sports bag on the bed with a white label attached which said in bright pink letters “open me”.

  Ellie took her time over the washing up but did it with emphasis so the noise chimed through the house.

  And then she went into the lounge, changed channels on the TV found a live cooking programme which seemed to be about showing how cooking hell can be turned into cooking heaven. And she might have listened to what they were saying if her heart would just stop beating so loud.

  The sound of Jake’s footsteps in the bedroom confirmed that the Game had begun. Entertain his ears first, Shar had said. If he can’t see you, make him picture you.

  Ellie got the vac out and for the first time ever discovered the pleasure of ensuring that every square inch of the lounge and the hallway and the kitchen were vac-ed beyond clean. The wail of the machine pin-balled through the house.

  When she switched it off the silence affected her as much as the house. The sound of her Saturday just-for-Jake heels along the hall as she put the vacuum away in the cupboard under the stairs coloured her imagination. She walked needlessly up and down the hall. Heels on the hard floor as much for her ears as his.

  In the kitchen the clatter of preparation needed to make a cup of coffee, the clink of spoon on cup, the rising boil of the kettle. And then her silence as she sipped on the caffeine and clickety heeled her way to the lounge where the muted cookery programme swarmed silently across the screen.

  She’d made the coffee strong enough to match Shar’s eyes but instead it tasted more like warm milk. Ellie sipped.

  The distant, familiar creak of their bed brought on the ready-or-not moment but she felt ready.

  Returning to the kitchen, she stripped off her quite sexy Saturday jeans and quite sexy top and left them on the floor. The washing machine door gaped at the touch of her finger tip and revealed the perfectly washed, dried and ironed bra and panties Shar had measured her for and the carrier bag stuffed with what Shar had called her Game-survival-kit. The safest place to hide anything from Jake was in the washing machine.

  She dressed feeling Shar’s touch in the bra and panties then walked upstairs taking the carrier bag with her. A deafening click announced the opening of the airing cupboard door. Ellie pulled out her floral skirt and supermarket top. They were warm as she put them on.

  ‘Before your entrance, take not one deep breath but three and then count a slow three to make you seem normal again. Then you go in there, prepared.’

  Dressed for the supermarket and with her supermarket bag filled with ropes, straps and much more besides as Shar had put it – she entered.

  He was almost exactly as he should be. Face down, hands cuffed behind, ankles strapped together and a gagging scarf knotted behind. The only thing wrong was that he should have been naked and instead he was wearing his favourite black pants. “Pulling pants” he called them. They were her favourites too but that wasn’t the point.

  He couldn’t see her. ‘Hello Jake, my name is Ellie would you like to see me?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Then you shall, but first, a few adjustments.’ She tightened the gag and kept on tightening it until he groaned and then knotted it.

  The strap on his ankles had been tightened for comfort but she threaded a plastic cable tie between them. It shrieked satisfyingly as she tugged it, drawing his ankles together.

  ‘Give me your thumbs,’ she said, her voice now more certain. Jake accepted her insisting fingers and allowed his thumbs to be brought together behind him. Ellie bound them above the knuckle with a short length of string and a long tug. Shar had shown her what to do.

  She pulled on a strap bringing his elbows towards each other until he actually gagged something like the word, ‘Stop!’ so she stopped and let the tension loosen a fraction before the one way teeth of the strap gripped and held fast.

  Ellie removed the handcuffs.

  ‘You can turn yourself over and look at me now.’

  He struggled but managed to turn over.

  She stood at the foot of the bed. Jake might be tied up but his eyes were not and she realised her nipples were visible despite bra and top. He was probably already planning what to do with her breasts when he gained control. If he gained control.

  Ellie picked up on his sense of surprise at her choice of outfit bordering on disappointment perhaps. It was a bad-good moment. “Bad” because she loved his approving eyes caressing her but “good” because this wasn’t about giving him what he expected. He would’ve expected something a bit more ... trashy perhaps?

  She smiled. Not that Jake’s favourite outfit of hers was anything like trashy. Yes, he lusted after her in anything indecently tight no matter what the colour or style but the outfit which she knew would “get” him every time was a simple white peasant, drawstring top, off the shoulder.

  A front lacing under-bust corset and he was hers, at least until the opportunity for sex arrived. Occasionally, they would arrange a “dinner date at home” – hot sex, cold food was their joke.

  That was the outfit he and his cock had been day-dreaming about. Good.

  Ellie’s gaze wandered slowly to his magnificent prick straining against the black of the “pulling pants”. The urge to just climb aboard and fuck him and herself stupid sparked but failed to ignite because they’d done that last night, Friday, or had tried to. In his tetchy sulking mood because she hadn’t started the Game he’d failed to touch her nipples even once – a caress, a kiss, a lick, even a playful nip might have made things easier for him today.

  ‘You were supposed to be naked, however ...’ Easing the pants off his cock, she took it in the palm of her hand, closing over the tip, gripping down the shaft. A gentle regular, squeezing, milking motion was the only movement she permitted herself. Hot sperm came unexpectedly like rain in a drought.

  Jake’s gagging thrust served only to tighten her grip on him until he got the idea and lay still while she wanked him off ruthlessly, looking into his eyes as she did so. He came again, closing his eyes, keeping them closed and she felt his cock relax a little, diminish a little. She stopped abruptly, pulling his pants back up and then went off to the bathroom to wash her hands.

  She returned with a bowl of soapy water, a flannel and a towel which she put at the foot of the bed next to his bound feet. Under the constraint of the now sperm-wet pants he was still more than semi erect and proud. ‘What have I forgotten?’ she asked as if absent minded. ‘Scissors! Of course. I’ll just go and get them.’ She loved the curiosity in his eyes and the surprised dash of fear when she said softly, ‘Oh, and by the way, if you splash one drop of water from that bowl onto my nice clean bed, your arse, which is going to be thrashed anyway, will suffer the consequences. Understand?’

  It was a nod of understanding but not acceptance.

  In the bathroom, she sat on the edge of the bath and felt as if she had just walked off a Hollywood film set.

  Ellie slid the floral skirt over her hips and let it pool around her feet, stepping free. The supermarket top flew, landing on the laundry basket lid.

  In the mirror, Shar’s perfectly measured bra and pants made it obvious that her nipples were straining against the perfection of the fit and that a camel toe effect had developed between her legs. Ellie did nothing to adjust either.

  With her breathing under control, she entered the bedroom, scissors in hand. Jake’s fascinated eyes taking in her “plain” white, fully-covering all-revealing underwear.

  If her “supermarket outfit” had disappointed him then she sensed as she inspected the clearly deliberately-caused wet patches on the bed that his eyes appreciated what the underwear was doing to her body.

  ‘I see,’ her voice almost stern, ‘in your desperation to escape you have caused yourself more trouble than ever. OK. But this will be dealt with later.’

  Ellie cut his favourite “pulling pants” each side and stripped them off without ceremony. The sparking challenge in his eyes was short lived. Jake’s pleasure eyes were busy and dwelt in a desire-charged fascination dance on the obvious reveal of her bra as she bent forwards to inspect the “damage” the water had done to the bed and the delve of her panties which made her feel as if he could see her arousal. It wasn’t just the bed that was wet she was too and it must be obvious.

  ‘I am going to wash you now,’ she said quietly, gaining unexpected confidence from the steady sensuality which velveted her voice.

  He seemed to relax under her control and this thrilled her. This impossible moment was dream dancing, smoke-waltzing beautifully with reality.

  ‘However,’ she added, ‘before I do, I am going to remove the gag and you will not speak. Do we have a deal?’

  He nodded. Their eye contact, fine wine mingled with petulant bubbles.

  ‘That is good,’ she said, conscious that she was speaking like Shar but without her accent and knowing this was where her confidence was coming from, ‘I am only doing this because I want to kiss you. This is not permission to speak. One single word, in any language would spoil it for me, and – believe me – for you.’

  He nodded. On impulse, she wet her finger with come from his cock and traced the circles of his taut, almost flat nipples. Jake’s shiver of pleasure and his bass-deep gagged groan resonated through her. She untied the gag chucked it on the floor and leaned with deliberate slowness, almost as aware as he was of Shar’s bra, and savaged his mouth with a hunger which surprised and renewed her even as her fingers were gentle, stroking his balls.

  There was a mutual gasp as she broke the kiss. He strained against the ties as her fingers retreated from him. Ellie’s index finger became a wand, commanding silence. He obeyed.

  ‘OK Before I wash you – I imagine that strap on your arms is even more uncomfortable now you are on your back?’

  Jake’s eager response confirmed how uncomfortable he really was. They both knew it. Just as they both knew, independent of each other, that his naked come-wet prick was loving every happening moment and lusting after the next.

  ‘I guess your thumbs are quite sore by now?’

  He nodded.

  She bent forwards only enough so that she could close her hand over his cock again and allow her breasts to curve a little out of the bra.

  ‘So let’s deal. You lose the strap on your elbows and the string round your thumbs. I bind your hands in front and tie them above your head to the bed-rail.’

  She didn’t have to do anything. Her racing desire to kiss him again pulsed through her hand and down through his cock. This was either the chequered flag or the open road ahead. It was his choice.

  There was a long pause and it was obvious there was some kind of argument going on between head and prick-head. But, apparently head won. Jake nodded.

  Ellie let go of his cock. Perfect eye contact, dwelling, smiling. If Jake was going to win this Game – it wasn’t going to be now. Whatever his conquering plans might be they would have to be for later. A passive, accepting Jake was like visiting an unknown island no-one had ever set finger on before.

  ‘OK,’ she said, rummaging in the supermarket bag for another cable tie, ‘we have a deal. But, just as a security measure you understand, I will fix your ankles to the bed rail first.’