The Limousine (6 page)

Brenda soaked for a long time, hearing the CD repeat twice. By the time she climbed out of the tub she felt incredibly relaxed, and more than a little hungry. She ordered a pizza, no cheese, and put on her robe. The satin felt strange against her smoothly-shaved crotch, it even kind of tickled. But the sensation was undeniably erotic. Kristi had been right—it
did
make her pussy that much more sensitive, and she imagined if there had been a cock sliding in and out of there it would have been a new and inexperienced sensation.
Brenda lounged about in her half-open satin robe and watched cable TV, switching between movie channels looking for something racy, while she waited for the pizza. She didn’t find much more than a few beach scenes. When the pizza finally came, Brenda, feeling daring, answered the door wearing nothing but her robe, which she hadn’t gone to extra trouble to tie very well. The robe hung mostly open, showing the better part of her full breasts. The firm buds of her nipples showed through the sweat-damp satin. Brenda paid more than a little attention to the shocked and pleased look on the pimply face of the guy who delivered the pizza. Sensing how horny he was, Brenda almost invited him in, but at the last minute she stopped herself, horrified but slightly aroused at what she’d been tempted to do. Brenda took her pizza and a glass of white wine into the living room, and watched reruns of Bonanza for two solid hours, eating ravenously until she was almost sick. By that time she was starting to perk up a little, but she still felt deliciously relaxed. The sun had gone down outside and the evening felt warm and wide-open to her.
She slowly nudged her robe open as she switched from Bonanza to something a little more interesting. The best she could find was one of those soft-core adult channels that was showing a free weekend to everyone with premium cable. It wasn’t as explicit as Kristi’s videos, but Brenda didn’t want to go into her roommate’s bedroom—not after all that had happened. Not yet, at least.
Brenda poured another glass of wine and loosened the tie on her robe, letting it fall gradually open as she watched the “girls of summer” or some such silliness. She was starting to get horny, though, and in her state, even this kind of softcore idiocy turned her on. So she watched, sipping the wine as she absently stroked the smoothness of her shaved crotch. It had started to feel a little bumpy—razorburn, she guessed—so Brenda took some time rubbing lotion in, enjoying the feel of the slickness against her smooth skin. When the softcore channel turned to something with a little more action, Brenda slipped off her robe and lay naked on the floor, her legs slightly spread as she began to touch herself.
There was some kind of thrill about being hairless down there. Normally Brenda wouldn’t have thought there was anything sexy about a shaved pussy, even though she had found it vaguely interesting (and a little strange) when she found out that Kristi shaved hers. But now, everything she saw or felt seemed to carry an erotic charge. Maybe it was because the Master had directed her to shave. Or maybe it was because she knew that Kristi also shaved for the Master. For whatever reason, Brenda found herself getting incredibly turned on as her fingertips stroked the bare flesh of her crotch. She touched her pussy and found that she was already quite wet. She began to stroke her lips, teasing them open. She closed her eyes and thought about the Master, about what he was doing to Kristi right now. Maybe he had her tied up and he was fucking her. Or maybe she wasn’t bound, but she was on her knees, using her mouth to worship him. Perhaps she was over his knee and he was spanking her, slapping her naked buttocks rhythmically until they were a beautiful shade of crimson, putting his hand between her legs to feel how wet she was getting and fucking her a few thrusts’ worth with two of his fingers. Whatever he was doing to Kristi, Brenda knew that Kristi would be blindfolded, and that’s what made Brenda start rubbing her clit quickly, moaning softly as she touched her breasts. The thought of Kristi blindfolded, never being allowed to look at the man who was tormenting and pleasuring and commanding her, the man who owned her, sent Brenda’s desire into overdrive. She switched off the TV and lay in the middle of the living room floor, sliding her fingers up and down her wet slit as she played with her nipples. Brenda didn’t even think about her vibrator this time, she only wanted her hand. She rubbed her clit until she was wet and ready, and then started fucking herself with two fingers. Brenda moaned as loudly as she could—knowing that she was alone in the apartment. Pumping her hips in time with her arousal, Brenda thumbed her clit and let herself go, her orgasm exploding through her nude body. Her moans turned to grunts as she finished coming, and Brenda sprawled out on the floor, running her cunt-slick hands over her shaved crotch and then over her breasts as the final spasms shuddered through her and she relaxed into the succulent aftertaste of her self-love.
***
It was several hours and two orgasms later before Brenda grabbed a blanket from the closet and curled up on the couch with her robe on but untied under the blanket. She thought about how many times she had come, and how improbable this all would have seemed a few days ago. But now Brenda’s body seemed charged for sexual action, and she was enjoying it more than she had ever enjoyed anything. She wondered what was happening to Kristi, and if it might happen to her some time soon. She switched the TV on, finding an old crime movie.
***
Brenda awoke to the sound of the key in the lock. The clock on the VCR told her it was almost 3 am. She sat up quickly, pulling the blanket away, and realized that her robe had come off while she slept. Brenda quickly squirmed back into the robe and pulled the blanket around her just as Kristi came in to the living room. She was wearing a tight black skirt and a red, low-cut blouse.
“Hi,” said Brenda. “Did you have a good time?”
Kristi’s face was filled with rapture. “Uh-huh,” she said, nodding vigorously. “I’m
exhausted.
”
Brenda smirked. “I want to hear
all
about it.”
Kristi yawned. “Tomorrow at breakfast. I’m dying to get into bed. OK?”
“Sure,” said Brenda. “Whenever you wake up.”
Kristi stood there for a minute, as if she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if it was all right. Then she did say it.
“I’ve got something of yours,” she said, smiling mischievously.
“Yeah?”
Brenda watched, stunned, as Kristi slowly lifted her skirt to reveal a pair of white panties. They were the ones Brenda had worn last night, the ones the Master had kept. Kristi began to take them off, moving slowly and sensuously like the dancer she was. She slipped the panties off over her shoes and tugged her skirt down. She walked over to Brenda and pressed the panties into her hand. Brenda found they were warm—and soaked through.
Kristi laughed a little as she looked right into Brenda’s eyes. “He wanted me to make sure I gave them back to you.” The Kristi turned and walked into her own bedroom, leaving Brenda watching after her, slightly annoyed but more than a little excited.
The second time she gave herself to the Master, Brenda wore black. This time she had been instructed to go without stockings or a bra; all she had on under the tight black mini-dress was a tiny pair of black panties. She had been instructed to wear the mini-dress a size smaller than the last one, and she hadn’t even minded having to buy a new one, despite the disapproving looks from the sales clerks. The dress was so tight that it showed every curve of her body, including the firm buds of her nipples peeking out through the stretchy fabric. Her high heels were black as well. She felt very naked on the street corner, waiting. This time, she knew the limousine would be black as well.
She didn’t even check the license plate, knowing instinctively that it was the right car. It had the same blackened windows, and when she climbed in, she saw that the fur on the seats was black, and the fixtures were silver rather than gold. There was a suitcase on the seat opposite her, and she wondered what illicit toys might be in it. The wine in the ice bucket was also black. She poured herself a glass and drank it, then sipped her second glass as she wondered what she should expect. Not knowing was the most exquisite excitement of all.
Brenda relaxed into the seat, wondering what excitement was before her. She wondered whether she would see another videotape of Kristi, and the possibility turned her on immensely.
The phone rang, and Brenda picked it up immediately.
“Yes?” she said, adding quickly with a smile: “I mean, yes, Master?”
“Good evening, Brenda,” came the buttery-soft voice. “Did you shave for me?”
“Yes,” she answered quickly.
“Very good. And are you starting to get turned on?”
“I am very turned on,” she answered. The limousine was already accelerating onto the freeway. “I’m very wet already.”
“That’s good,” said the Master. “If you press the red button on the phone, you’ll be able to hear me through the speaker.”
“All right.” Brenda pressed the red button, which lit up. She replaced the handset.
“I would like you to take off your panties.”
Nimbly, without spilling her wine, Brenda tugged her panties down her legs and slipped them off. “All right,” she said.
To her surprise, the window rolled down a crack. “Put them out the window.”
The last time she had been with the Master, he had kept her panties, and the next night Kristi had come home wearing them. Brenda had been bizarrely excited by this whole display, and had found herself inhaling the scent of Kristi’s pussy, feeling her warm dampness soaking the crotch of the panties, mingling with Brenda’s own juices. Brenda had gone into her bedroom, and, much to her own surprise, had been compelled to put the panties on. She felt their wetness between her thighs, felt the thin string tugging between her cheeks, knew that it had been between Kristi’s just a few minutes earlier. Brenda’s hand had slid underneath the flimsy silk and worked her wet pussy until she came with a moan. She had slept all night with them on, otherwise naked, feeling a strange and fetishistic intimacy with her roommate.
The next morning, Brenda had quizzed Kristi about the strange display. Kristi had explained: “He told me not to wear anything at all under my dress. So I didn’t. He likes making me do stuff like that. And before he sent me home he gave me your panties and told me I should wear them back home, and give them back to you. So I did.” She smiled. “He does stuff like that sometimes. It didn’t bother you, did it?”
It hadn’t, in fact; it had turned Brenda on, and she told Kristi as much. Kristi responded with a knowing smile.
Brenda knew that Kristi had gotten an exhibitionistic thrill out of the way she had returned the panties to Brenda. She wondered how much of this game was played for Kristi’s benefit.
This time, the Master wanted Brenda to toss her panties altogether.
Brenda felt a brief flurry of nervousness, not understanding what was going on. If she stripped her underclothes off in the limo and tossed them away, she would have to go home without anything under the dress. The thought of that frightened and excited her. But she knew that the excitement, the fear, was part of the game. Nervously, she crumpled up her panties and pushed them through the crack in the window.
“Very good,” he said. “Now finish your wine and take off your dress.”
Brenda breathed deeply and slowly, feeling more than a little afraid. She drank down the second glass of wine and put the glass back in its place. Then she pulled the hem of the very tight black dress up over her waist, then over her belly and breasts. She squirmed her way out of it, and sat nervously on the plush fur, naked except for her high-heeled shoes. She clutched the tiny dress before her breasts.
The window hummed down, the crack widening.
“Go ahead,” came the voice. “Throw it out.”
Brenda felt a wave of nausea.
“The dress can be replaced,” said the Master. “Your submission to me cannot. Do you wish to submit to me, my dear? Or shall I have my driver take you home?”
So he would take it even further! Brenda imagined herself having to walk up the stairs to her apartment stark naked except for her shoes. She couldn’t stop the smile that came to her lips at that image, but she knew she didn’t really want to do it. Giving up her dress like this would mean trusting the Master completely, trusting that he would provide for her and would not expect her to do something that would hurt her or get her in trouble.
Brenda had to close her eyes as she bunched the dress up and pushed it out the crack in the window. The window hummed back up, and Brenda curled up on the seat, naked.
The video monitor came to life. This time the video was of Kristi, fucking herself with a big rubber dildo. Brenda began to regain her arousal. She felt her nipples stiffening, the tingle in her loins returning, a flush starting through her breasts. She became acutely aware that she was naked, vulnerable and helpless in the Master’s hands. Suddenly her irritation over the dress seemed silly. She had bought the garment for the Master’s pleasure, and now he had used it to increase her submission to him even further. And stripping for the Master’s enjoyment, and being told to throw away her clothes as if she would never need them again, turned her on incredibly. She spread her legs and reached down to touch herself while she watched the videotape of Kristi taking the dildo into her pussy. She had never imagined that Kristi would look so good on videotape. But she did. Then Brenda felt a wave of shock going through her body as she realized what simultaneously seemed incredibly obvious and incredibly kinky—this videotape had not been made in the limousine or in some bare dungeon somewhere. It had been made in Kristi’s bedroom.
Brenda gasped. She felt her face going suddenly hot. She felt invaded—Kristi had been making kinky videotapes in their apartment! But was she so horrified because Kristi was violating some sort of unspoken privacy rule, or because Brenda wished she’d been invited to participate?
Brenda thought about it. Why should she be horrified to see Kristi fucking herself in her bedroom, captured for posterity on videotape? After all, Brenda didn’t mind when Kristi and her boyfriends fucked loudly in the bedroom, did she? She didn’t even mind a little bit. In fact, she liked it. It turned Brenda on. Many were the nights when Brenda lay naked in her bed masturbating wildly to the sounds of Kristi’s lovemaking with some guy she barely knew. And somehow, it was turning Brenda on even more to think about Kristi making videotapes while she lay there fucking herself and moaning, with Brenda lying nude or half-nude, asleep or reading—or maybe even touching herself—on the other side of the wall. Somehow that seemed so supremely dirty that Brenda felt a flush going through her face and breasts. She wanted to see more.