Tessa’s Dilemma (11 page)

Part 1 – The Gift

Chapter 1

Tessa fidgeted nervously as she smoothed the wrinkles from her figure-hugging pencil skirt. Shifting her gaze from the countryside rushing by, she glanced impatiently at her phone again. Nothing. The last words she had read that morning from Him had been “
Today is the day Tessa
”. She had scrolled up and down the list of messages she had received from Him countless times as she had sat there, double checking and triple checking to ensure that she would fulfill His instructions exactly.
“You will catch the 10:13 train to London, Victoria and alight when I tell you. You will then go to the front of the station and take the nearest taxi. Tell him to take you to Court Road. When you arrive there you will see two post boxes. Get out of the car, pay him and await instructions.”

An involuntary shiver ran the full length of her spine as she sat on the train, waiting, anxious for that message. She perched on the edge of the seat, waiting for each stop, knowing she might have to dash for the door to make sure she didn’t miss the stop. Suddenly, her phone vibrated in her trembling hand.
“Now”
it said and with that, Tessa stood and moved to the door. She appraised her reflection in the glass of the door – green satin blouse, black cardigan, black pencil skirt, sheer black nylons and her comfortable black slip on patent heels. He had requested she wear her turquoise underwear for their meeting, so Tessa had thought that accessorizing her flame red hair with a forest green blouse would also please Him. She had an insatiable need to please this man like nothing she had ever felt before.

He had crashed headlong into her life some three weeks earlier. Tessa had always been fascinated with the Dominant/submissive lifestyle, and she was – she felt, a very submissive person. In her real life people knew her as a feisty, headstrong and passionate woman; no one would ever have described her as submissive. But then, she had learned over time that being submissive didn’t mean she had to be a doormat; it meant to her that she wanted to hand over her control, her welfare, her safety, to someone else. Throughout her life she had maintained an iron grip on her personal control, organized to the extreme in her work and home life, highly respected in her profession as a Personal Assistant, so used to controlling others to ensure success. But, what she truly wanted deep down inside was a man who could take her to that special place of freedom she had heard and read so much about. To experience true freedom within her mind.

She had signed up to a BDSM lifestyle website to learn more about what it was to attain this ‘subspace’ she had heard about. Peppering her profile with photographs she felt were ‘artistic’, and writing a personal passage about who she was, had attracted plenty of admirers, but no one she had particularly connected with. She wasn’t looking to find a soul mate, or even a playmate, just someone to discuss her thoughts, passions and desires with. It was out of the blue that a message had dropped into her inbox. He handled each conversation they had with courtesy and interest, drawing more and more information out of her without her even realizing. Or maybe she did, and she was already walking towards this man instinctively, already feeling the urge to please Him in any way He desired. She couldn’t place when her thoughts turned to Him entirely – it wasn’t long after they had started talking. He had even managed to find out where she worked, and after a few days of messaging back and forth, He called her anonymously at her desk. He had used a fake name to convince reception to pass Him through to her, and when He spoke, He had teased her with His low voice pressed to her ear. “Imagine this voice Tessa, speaking in your ear in person, knowing that whatever I say next, you must submit to without question...” At that point Tessa felt the intense pangs of fear and panic that she had been hunted down so easily; what else did this man know about her in but a few days? She did not even know His name.

Two days later she met Him for the first time. She had just had a difficult meeting in the city and had been dropped off at the local car pool to collect her car, when she had been pressed firmly against her door from behind.

“Hello Tessa,” He had breathed in her ear, “I suggest you get in my car.” Near paralyzed with fear she turned slowly and looked straight into intense sparkling brown eyes, flecked with green. There was no way she would deny Him; all of her life long fantasies were coming true. They had gone to a local park, where He had run His hands over her shaking body, entwined His fingers in her hair and pulled her to His lips where they kissed deeply and passionately, her body melting further with each kiss and caress. His hands were so gentle, but firm enough to know that there really was no escape. He worked over her clothed body, gradually relaxing her until He slipped His hand under her top and slid His fingers inside the lacy material of her bra, slowly releasing her right breast. Her heaving chest betrayed her fear and lust, a deep, red flush creeping across her as He leaned in and sucked her nipple deep into His mouth. She moaned loudly, eyes closing and arching her back to push into Him, taking her so close to the edge of climax then instinctively stopping His exploration of her body. Pulling away from her, He held her gaze, fingers once more tightly wrapped in her hair.

“I am going to enjoy you,” He uttered as she gasped to regain her composure. Every word He spoke to her was like a lightning bolt straight to her sex. Deep and powerful, she had to know more about Him whatever the cost.

And so here she was, sitting in the back of a taxi, wondering what she was heading towards. He had asked her many questions and taken note of everything she had said and done since their meeting; of this she was completely sure. He seemed to instinctively know everything that made her tick, the right things to say to her, the right comments to make her squirm and moan with need, freeing her mind to soar with thoughts of losing control. She paid the driver and stepped out of the taxi, glancing at her phone. Looking around warily, she took in her surroundings. She was standing in the middle of an industrial complex with low level office blocks all around, some apparently abandoned. As soon as the taxi moved away her phone started ringing. Tessa jumped out of her skin and picked up the call, “He-hello?” She stammered.

“Face the post boxes, turn to your right, walk forward until I tell you to stop and keep your eyes down.’ Tessa did just this without question and walked until His voice told her to stop. “You will now see a door just to your right – go inside, shut it behind you and walk to the bottom of the stairs.”

Tessa looked at the ordinary, red-framed metal door in front of her, reached out and gingerly pulled it toward her. Entering the building as instructed. Her shaking increased significantly when she realized she was entering a long abandoned building. There were broken tiles on the floor, and a musty damp smell in the air. It looked like no one had been here in a long time. Just what was going to happen? Her breathing came quickly now as His voice directed her to two doors, and instructed her to enter the left door, drop her bag and coat on the right hand wall and stand on the mat provided. She did as commanded and opened the indicated door. She was greeted by an empty room, no windows, a single bright fluorescent tube light, white porcelain tiles on the floor and walls and a shabby suspended polystyrene tiled ceiling. It was distinctly colder inside, which didn’t help with her nervous trembling. She dropped her bag and her coat and removed her shoes as commanded and stood on the mat. She was panting now, her breathing ragged and her whole body trembling visibly as she faced the wall. Then she heard the door open, followed by a loud clunk as the door was locked firmly behind them.

***

Tickled Pink

Prologue

Tickling: a word that can strike fear or immense pleasure into the hearts of anyone who hears it. I never thought tickling could evoke such powerful feelings, but one day a man showed me just how deep those feelings could be. From the day he became my savior I was insatiably addicted to his dancing fingers – Oh! And he enjoys giving out a good spanking too, which is a good job, as I definitely need to be kept in line at times.

Many of you may have followed my tickling blog and read my short stories, but I have been inundated with requests as to my own personal story. How did I get into tickling, and how did I become a slave to such a wonderful man? Well, this is my story.

Ellie xxx

***

Chapter One

It had been a long and boring day at work, tedious meeting following yet more monotonous discussions. I flexed my right hand, rubbing it inattentively, my writing hand painfully cramped from taking reams of minutes. I hadn't even been allowed the luxury of daydreaming, as when there was a break in the meeting, it was my duty to make the coffee, arrange lunches, etc. Such is the life of a Personal Assistant. Not only do you have to act like a Stepford Wife at work, but you have to appear perfect too in order to be considered a "good PA". Sighing heavily I rose from my desk, heading towards the executive washroom. Running my hands under cold water usually helped to ease the dull ache caused by the day's exertions.

As I ran the cold water over my hands, I glanced sideways at my reflection in the full-length mirror. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, I quickly dried my hands and stood back, smoothing the front of my figure-hugging, black pencil skirt, examining my curvy body. I was happy with my fullness, and it was clear that many of the visiting male clients also admired it, often making comments to my boss about "perks" of the job and the like. I just laughed graciously at their misogyny whilst cursing them quietly in the back of my mind, ever professional, smiling to the last. Swiveling on the balls of my feet, I looked over my shoulder to appraise my rear view whilst also admiring my black patent court stilettos. They were my favorite shoes, always my "go to" shoes when I needed cheering up. I simply loved the way they accentuated the contours of my legs – making them appear longer and leaner. Acknowledging my visage once more, I tucked an unruly red curl behind my right ear, raised my chin and stepped back into the office.

Only my Director – Mark – and two clients were left in the office now and I could hear them laughing their farewells to each other as the men were ushered out of the front door. However, I was not allowed to leave until my Director did. Impatiently checking my watch, I knocked on his office door, “Is there anything else you need for today?” Raising his eyes from his computer screen, Mark flashed his famously winning smile, catching the slight edge to my query. He had this unnerving way of disarming people when he fixed his gaze on them; you would think I would be immune to it by now after all these years of being his ever efficient assistant. Nevertheless, the permanent sparkle in his eyes when he regarded me did not pass by unnoticed; but I was never going to succumb to that ridiculous cliché, whether I desired to feel his strong arms around me or not.

Slipping the files from his desk into his briefcase, he stood and pulled his car keys from his pocket. “Well, I think I’m done for today,” smiling mischievously, he continued. “Do you want me to stay behind and help you lock up?”

I replied quickly, “No, no – I can manage perfectly well,” waving my hand to dismiss his offer. I wanted to get home, and if he stayed around I could guarantee that he would want to talk more work and the pile for tomorrow would stack up higher than it already was. Hurriedly shooing him out, I watched as he jumped into his car and wheel-spun out of the car park. It bemused me how this man could be so successful when he appeared to treat everything in life with such childish glee. But I suppose that was what made him so appealing – that perpetual excitement – that drive to achieve. Shaking my head I turned back and started my final check around, switching off several computers and office lights. One last sweep satisfied me that all was secure. Pulling my bag onto my shoulder, I made my way to the exit.

Locking the darkened office building, I turned and walked towards my car. It was a warm spring evening with a light breeze blowing in off the sea. As I pondered the frothy waves in the distance, the hairs on the back of my neck rose as unease crept across my skin – a feeling that I was being watched. Nervously checking around me, I quickened my pace to the car, pulling my coat tightly around my body and warily keeping to the safety of the open space in the center of the park. Making it to the car with a sigh of relief, I fumbled with the key, cursing quietly at how my shaking hands were refusing to comply with my wishes. As the keys tumbled through my trembling fingers I yelped with frustration, crouching quickly to retrieve them, but as I stood, I felt a hand clamp over my nose and mouth. Struggling and thrashing in pure instinct, I tried frantically to claw the hand away, scratching with my long fingernails, but an arm now secured tightly around my waist, squeezing me, putting an end to my desperate struggles. Trying to scream I breathed in deeply – realizing in horror and much too late, that it wasn't just a hand; it was a cloth. A cloth soaked in a strong smelling substance, which I’d just inhaled to the bottom of my lungs. As thoughts scrambled and swirled desperately, the strength drained from my limbs and panic rose in my throat. As blackness consumed me, my eyes closed heavily and I collapsed, limp in my assailant's arms.

***