An old story I hope you like

Plimsolllover

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Here's the first part of an old story I wrote some time ago. If you enjoyed 'Always a Pro' on the Keds board you will see some similar themes emerging. In it, the two main characters take it in turns to tell each episode from their respective points of view. If you enjoy the first part I'll post the next.

Careful what you ask for

Chapter 1. Careful what you ask for ...

Part 1 – Steve's story (1st part)

I hadn't seen Rick since we left school almost twenty years ago, but we instantly recognised each other. I paid for my pint and went over to his table in the corner of the bar.

"Long time, no see," I said, "I didn't know you were still around."

"I moved back here last year but my business means I travel around a lot," He replied.

"What business are you in?" I asked.

After a second, he replied, "Making people's dreams come true."

"A bit like Jim'll Fix It?" I suggested.

"Yes and no," he answered.

I was genuinely curious now. "How do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, I don't arrange for children to go to Disney Land," he replied with a knowing look.

Being a bit slow on the uptake that evening, I asked him, "What sort of things do you arrange?"

"What's your favourite sexual fantasy?"

His directness threw me for a moment. "That's not your business," I asserted.

"On the contrary," he responded with equal assertiveness, "it's precisely my business. Whatever your desire is, I can make it happen for you." He looked directly at me while my brain struggled to process what had just been thrown at it.

I decided to throw his attack back at him, "What about you then?"

His reply amazed me.

"For years I fantasised about being a ballerina. Then I decided to do something about it. I went to ballet classes for adult beginners and I found a teacher who would teach me to dance on my toes. For two years I did special exercises to strengthen all the right muscles. I can't tell you how fantastic I felt when I put on a white tutu, tights and ballet shoes and danced on my toes for the first time. I started up a website for other male ballerinas and now we have regular get-togethers. Here, have a look."

He handed me a pocket digital image viewer and I looked in amazement at pictures of him dressed in his ballerina costume, and several short videos of him dancing solo and with other male ballerinas. He was a good dancer and, in his white tutu with little frilly skirt, white tights and white ballerina shoes with ribbons tied neatly round his ankles, his shoulder length hair tied back in a neat ballet bun with a little diamante tiara on top and with perfect make up on, looked very feminine.

"What I'm saying," continued Rick, "is that I thought I was the only guy who felt the way I did until I took some positive action and discovered hundreds of other guys doing the same thing. And for every one of them are hundreds more who haven't got the guts to act on their feelings and do what they really want to do. I decided to set up a business to help at least some of them live their dream. Now do you have the guts to take the opportunity I'm giving you now to do what you really want to do?" He continued looking directly at me, waiting for my answer.

I was convinced. "OK, what do I need to do?" I asked

"First tell me what you really want", he replied.

After a deep breath, I began.

"OK. I've always had this fantasy about being kidnapped and taken to a hideout where I'm made to strip naked. Then I'm tied up and gagged, then forced to have sex with a girl who's also been kidnapped and is also tied up and gagged. She's tied down on her back on a bed with her legs spread apart and I'm put on top of her while someone gets hold of my prick and sticks it in her cunt, then we're tied together and have to fuck while the kidnappers watch us."

I paused for another deep breath. Rick had listened attentively and, it seemed, with genuine respect for my frankness. He encouraged me to continue.

"Any other details you want to add?" he asked.

"Well, I have a fetish for wearing white plimsolls with white ankle socks. So it would be an even bigger turn-on if we were both wearing them."

Rick made a few notes in a personal organiser. "I can set it up for you for a few days time if you can afford £500 right now", he said.

I was really interested but I wasn't jumping for it straight away. "How do I know you aren't a con merchant?" I asked.

Rick remained completely calm at this suggestion, "My business depends on trust. If my clients can't trust me then I have no business. I guarantee to do what I say I'll do and ensure complete discretion." He handed me a sheet of paper, "These are clients who are prepared to give a testimonial if requested. They're all local. You may know some of them."

I studied the list of about 30 names, men and women, and indeed recognised several of them. I was convinced.

"What do I need to do," I asked.

"Sign this contract and give me a cheque for £500. The two important things you need to know now are that none of the money is refundable under any circumstances and you must do everything you are told to do until you sign a receipt stating that the contract has been fulfilled."

I signed the contract and handed over the cheque. Then Rick gave me a list of dates. "Pick the earliest date you can meet me outside here at 8pm sharp," he instructed. I ticked the earliest date. "See you then. Don't be late," he said as he left.

**********

I was ten minutes early. I had spent the day at a client valuing a collection of rare literary first editions so I was wearing a suit, which I hoped would give a good first impression to whoever would be my partner. Rick appeared on the dot of 8. We crossed the road and walked to a white Transit van parked in the far corner of the car park. As we stood at the back of the van Rick spoke to me.

"Before you get in the van you have a final chance to back out and sign the receipt."

After a second I replied, "I'm up for it."

"In that case I must remind you first that you must do everything you're told until the contract is completed."

"I understand," I replied. He dialled a number on his mobile and said one word, "Confirmed!" Then he opened the doors.

Two men were sitting in the back, obviously waiting for us. As we got in I could see they were real night club bouncer types, dressed smartly in dark suits and ties with white shirts.

"Let me introduce you to Number 1 and Number 2", said Rick, "They will not speak at any time. They are here to ensure your co-operation and I assure you that in the unlikely event of it being necessary, they will only use the minimum force required. Do you understand?"

I gulped slightly and replied, "I understand".

"Excellent", said Rick, "Now sit on the floor with your legs stretched in front of you."

I did as I was told. Number 2 knelt behind me, took hold of my wrists, brought my arms behind my back and tied my wrists together with cord. Then he bound my upper arms to my sides with more cord. At the same time, Number 1 pushed a small rubber ball into my mouth and then stuck a large rectangle of white sticking plaster across my mouth and cheeks. He stuck another length on one side of my face, pushed it hard under my chin and stuck the other end on my opposite cheek, clamping my jaws firmly together. Then he tied my legs together at the ankles and just above the knees.

My heart pounded and my body shook with fear and with deep sexual arousal. I felt a huge hard on bulging inside my trousers and was glad to be able to hide it from my captors by lying on my side with my knees drawn up when told to lie down. We started off with Rick driving and the others guarding me. After a while the van stopped. Rick told me to sit up and Number 1 placed a canvas bag over my head while Number 2 unbound my legs. I felt myself led out of the van and into a building. When my hood was removed I was amazed to see a scene right out of a gangster film.

**********

We were in a large empty room. In the middle was an old-fashioned wrought iron bedstead with a thin mattress on top. It was surrounded by portable lights on tripod stands. Several chairs and tables were the only other furniture. I noticed something lying in a corner and my heart lurched as I suddenly realised it was a girl. She was tied up and gagged as I had been in the van and lay on her side with her knees drawn up as I had done. She looked about 25-30, slightly below average height and had quite a good figure if a little on the thin side. She had shoulder length straight black hair parted on one side and brushed over. The part of her face not obscured by her gag looked pretty. Her darkly attractive eyes were even more emphasised by the tape gag over her mouth. She was neatly and attractively dressed in a tight black roll neck sweater which nicely showed off her small but enticingly round breasts, a very girlie short plaited skirt in a scarlet tartan pattern fastened with a white leather belt, grey woollen tights over her slender, girlish legs and black patent leather ballerina pumps fastened with a thin strap and buckle which made her small feet look very sexy.

She was being guarded by the other member of Rick's gang; an athletically handsome woman who I guessed correctly was Number 3. She was also dressed in a dark suit but with an open-necked blouse. I was sure she would have been more than capable of keeping the girl in her place if needed.

"Have no fear for her welfare", Rick said to me, "I can assure you that she, like you, is here at her choice and everything that happens will be between consenting adults. Is that correct?" He looked at the girl. She nodded and made a slight muffled noise in her gag. I could see from her eyes and from her body language that she was nervous and uncertain rather than in fear.

"We will begin," said Rick, after I had been made to sit down and my legs were rebound, "Female will be untied and will strip naked, including all jewellery". After being untied, the girl remained seated while she took off her shoes and tights. She stood up and slowly took off her jewellery: a pearl necklace, matching drop earrings, a watch and several rings. Then she carefully pealed off her sweater, revealing a pair of beautifully rounded little breasts snuggled invitingly in a low cut white bra with little red polka dots and a frilly edge around each cup. I was delighted.

"Too bad I won't get to feel her tits. Still, can't have everything," I thought, "She may look like a nice girl but I bet she can be really naughty when she wants to be!"

She undid her skirt and for a few seconds I enjoyed the sight of her in her matching bra and panties as she tidied her things into a neat pile, which I guessed she did partly out of habit and partly to steady her nerves. She took off her bra and her breasts bobbed as she placed it on the pile. In the harsh light, the pink areolas circling her nipples contrasted with the pale skin around them. They were large in proportion to her breast size, which somehow made her breasts look bigger. Finally she removed her panties. Now she was naked I could easily see she was as much turned on as I was. Her nipples stuck out stiff and swollen from her pert, pouting breasts which rose and fell with her heavy breathing. Her cunt was open and deliciously pink inside and already glistening with her pussy juices. Her mound was covered in a thick coat of short black hair.

Rick spoke again.

"Female is to put on footwear provided." Number 3 handed her a pair of brand new white plimsolls matched to her shoe size from a collection on the floor and a pair of new white ankle socks. She looked at them in surprise and then shot me a questioning look over her gag. I could only shrug my shoulders in lieu of an explanation. Then, to her everlasting credit, she fully entered into the scenario. She sat down sideways on to me so I could enjoy the line of her body from her head to her feet and of her slender arms down to her hands, which trembled slightly as she put on the ankle socks and plimsolls. Neat and tidy in all things, she carefully folded down the top of each sock and smoothed it sexily around each slender shapely ankle and made sure each plimsoll lace was tightened properly and finished with a symmetrical double bow. She moved each foot in turn so I could see every movement clearly.

Then she stood up and, shifting her weight onto one foot and then the other, extended her legs, pointed her toes and turned her feet one way then the other so I could have a good look. Her neat and pretty little feet looked gorgeous in her little white plimsolls. I have always longed to stroke a girl's feet through crisp, smooth, white plimsolls and feel her ankles through the soft cotton of her ankle socks. I longed for just one touch of the girl's feet. But I would have to keep on dreaming on for that. She even did a little curtsey to complete her splendid performance. Suddenly she remembered where she was and, struck again with embarrassment, assumed the classic pose of a woman trying to preserve her modesty: hand and forearm over her breasts, other hand covering her private, knees together, toes turned in.

"She sure has guts," I thought admiringly of her.

Rick continued.

"Female is to be retied and secured to bed in appropriate position." Number 1 tied her hands behind her back, fastened her upper arms to her sides with more cord that went round her body just under her breasts and then pushed her towards the bed. Number 2 lifted me into a chair so I could see what was happening and guarded me while the others saw to the girl. She was made to lie down on her back with her legs spread apart. A length of cord was tied to the right upper bedpost, threaded between her back and upper arms and wrapped around her body, then tied to the opposite post. She was now unable to move her upper body. Meanwhile, another cord was tied from one side of the bed to the other side across her waist several times. Her ankles were tied to the bottom posts by short lengths of cord.

And she wasn't finished with yet. Rick's next order was for her to be shaved. It was my turn to look quizzically at her as that part of her face not covered by her gag flushed pink for a moment. Number 3 put on a pair of white surgical gloves, then produced a safety razor, a pot of shaving foam and a brush and expertly removed the girl's bush with deft, confident strokes. The effect on the girl was marvellous to watch. Her breasts heaved up and down like waves in a storm. She made mewing noises in her gag that made her sound like a contended kitten. Pussy juices continuously leaked from her glistening cunt. She flexed her feet and pointed her toes so that in the bright light her plimsolls looked more like ballet shoes. I was fantastically turned on by now and felt like I had a large cucumber sticking up from between my legs. Number 3 finished drying the girl's crotch and lifted the towel to reveal a perfectly smooth pubic region, to which she then applied some baby oil. The girl gave a final kitten mew and relaxed. Now it was my turn.

**********
 
Re: An old story I hope you like

Chapter 1, part 1 (Second part)

"Male is to be untied and will strip naked, including all jewellery."

Rick's words made my heart pound. I thought nothing of stripping off in front of the lads in the changing room every Saturday but this was way, way different. Leaning forward on the chair while I was untied I wished that the ground would swallow me up. After taking off my watch, shoes and socks I stood up feeling very self conscious. I couldn't hope to match the girl's bravura performance so I just played it straight as I took off my outer clothing. However, I made sure she got a good view as I straightened up after removing my briefs. I had never seen my prick look as stiff and swollen as it did now. The sight of it standing up ramrod straight, the head bulbous and already glistening with pre-cum somehow gave me courage, and when the girl saw what was coming to her she let out a long low moan through her gag, which encouraged me even more.

"Male will put on footwear provided," Rick continued.

I had really been looking forward to this bit. As I sat on the floor, naked and still gagged, my whole body trembling with sexual excitement and nervy anticipation, I could hardly keep my hands steady enough to pull on the new white ankle socks. Then as I felt the gorgeous feeling of pushing my feet into brand new white plimsolls, always a fantastic turn-on for me, I almost passed out as my heart pounded within my chest.

Rick went on.

"Male will be retied and can choose to be shaved."

"Fantastic!", I thought. I'd often wondered how it would feel to be shaved 'Down South'. I nodded and grunted my acceptance.

My wrists were retied behind my back and my arms fixed to my sides with cord again. The cord they used was a special woven type that spread itself on the surface of my skin instead of biting into it as it was tightened. So although I was securely bound I was in no discomfort. I was made to lie on my back and my legs were spread apart. I began to regret my decision when Number 3, after putting on a new pair of gloves, produced a cut throat razor. But I needn't have worried because with amazing skill she removed every last pubic hair I had. It felt fantastic. Electric shocks shot through my body every time her latex covered fingers took hold of my prick to keep it way from the blade and I moaned into my gag in deepest pleasure. I moaned again as she rubbed baby oil onto areas of skin that had felt nothing like it since I'd been in nappies. The girl, her own experience very fresh in her mind, resumed her kitten mewing through her gag in the solidarity of shared sensations.

"Male will be fitted with condom", Rick continued.

Again I winced with pleasure as Number 3, with deft assurance, took hold of my now hypersensitively swollen prick, wiped my throbbing head clean of pre-cum and rolled a ribbed condom the full length of my shaft. Then she took a length of thin surgical tape and expertly wrapped it round the base of my shaft and the neck of the condom circling it and then tied the ends around the neck of my ball sack, so the condom was fixed in place and couldn't slip off. I moaned continually through my gag and the girl, who could see everything from her prone position tied down on the bed, mewed along with me. Then I was made to lie back and my ankles and upper legs were rebound.

Now I was ready. I had a few seconds to review my situation. I was naked in white plimsolls and ankle socks, with my pubic hair all shaved off. I was tied up and gagged, with my prick tied up inside a condom. And waiting for me was really fit girl, also naked in white plimsolls and ankle socks, also tied up and gagged, with a shaved pussy, tied down on a bed with her legs apart and her cunt wide open, dripping and hungering for my fat, swollen prick to fill it up, literally gagging for me to fuck her arse off.

"Male is to be coupled to female and secured. Male and female are to remain still until told otherwise."

This was it. Number 1 and Number 2 brought me to my feet, then, with no visible effort, lifted me horizontally, face down, then carried me to the bed and held me over the girl. Until now her breasts had been heaving with her heavy breathing but now she took a deep breath and kept completely still. She looked at me with wide eyes over her gag. Now I could see she had really beautiful dark brown eyes, with lovely long lashes and carefully groomed eyebrows. I felt a wave of admiration for her. How many other girls would put themselves through something like this in the hope of getting a fantastic fuck? If I was ever going to give a girl the fuck of her life, this was going to be it, I decided.

As Number 1 and Number 2 were placing me on top of the girl I winced again with pleasure as Number 3, who always seemed to get the best jobs, took hold of my prick, placed my swollen head against the swollen lips of the girl's open cunt, which made the girl tremble with anticipation, and pushed my fat pulsating prick right into her pussy. I gave a deep moan through my gag with the pleasure of first entering her and the girl made a new sound through her gag. She was no longer a contented kitten but a supremely aroused she-cat. She had a fantastic box. Tight, smooth and responsive, it seemed to mould itself to my massive swollen member as I filled her up. Her stiff, swollen nipples buried into me as her tits cushioned against my chest. I could feel her heart pounding and her abdomen rose and fell in contact with mine as our breathing instinctively synchronised. Her skin was beautifully smooth and warm and her smell was a gorgeously arousing mixture of perfume, scented soap, hairspray and sex hormones.

A couple of ropes had been left loose under the girl when she was tied down on the bed. They were now used to tie me down onto her, one round our waists and the other threaded between our upper arms and ribcages to go across our shoulder blades. A vertical wooden board was clamped across the bed just behind my feet. I realised it was there for me to push against as I humped her. Our difference in height worked out so that we could look directly into each other's faces. So I was surprised by Rick's next instruction.

"Female is to be blindfolded."

The look she gave me over her gag seemed to be asking me not to take it personally. My eyes smiled at her and I made an understanding "Umph!" through my gag. "I guess there's no law against girls having kinky sex fantasies too!", I thought. Number 3 covered each of the girl's eye sockets with a thick, circular make-up pad, which she fixed in place with another large rectangle of white sticking plaster that covered her eyes and most of her forehead, temples and upper part of her nose. Now most of her face was obscured by her blindfold and her gag. At last, everything was ready.

**********

"Male and female will commence. There is no time limit for completion," Rick instructed.

"Nice to know," I thought.

The girl had lain quiet and passive until now, but now she seemed to go into panic mode, maybe because of a sudden release of built up tension or perhaps because of shock at suddenly being unable to see. She made desperate "Mmmph! Mmmph!" sounds into her gag. She thrust her stomach into mine and her pussy clenched on my prick so hard it hurt. I made what I hoped were soothing "Hmmm, Hmmm" sounds to her through my gag and hoped she would calm down. It worked, and after a couple of deep breaths she was calm again. She mewed apologetically through her gag and I gave her another reassuring "Mmph."

Then I made an enquiring "Umph?" to her to make sure she was ready and she gave me a little "Mmm, Mmm!" through her gag in affirmation.

Pushing against the wooden board with the rubber soles of my plimsolled feet, I began searching for the right rhythm and intensity for my thrusting, taking careful note of her reaction each time. My prick seemed to be searching into every area of her pussy for her G-spot. Her she-cat purr became more intense and then I found a rhythm that really did it for her. Her Mmmphing became louder and came more from within her throat than through her gag. Then she realised she was coming too soon and she made an urgent "MMM! MMM!" I settled back into a gentler rhythm which we enjoyed together for a while, combining my pig in clover grunting with her contended cat purr. In an ordinary situation we could have continued like that for a good while. There was real sexual chemistry and a literally unspoken understanding between us.

But I knew she wouldn't be comfortable under my unsupported weight for much longer. I checked with an enquiring "Mmmph?" if she was ready and through her gag came an affirmative "Mmm-Mmm!" I went back to the rhythm that worked for her and her contented cat purring changed to growling lioness as I hit her G-spot again and again. I felt the tension in her body increase as, breathing progressively faster and harder, she approached her orgasm, then seemed to completely freeze for a second before she exploded spectacularly. She made three loud, muffled, throaty screams into her gag, followed by several long, low moans. I stopped thrusting for a moment to let her enjoy the feeling and was rewarded with the most fantastic feeling of my own as she clenched and massaged my prick and soaked it with her pussy juices in her ecstasy. Then, with firm pushes on the board with my plimsolled feet I thrust into her as deeply and as hard and as rapidly as I could. I grunted into my gag with each thrust and she hooted encouragingly into hers – baritone and soprano in harmony.

As I felt myself on the point of coming, all my senses went into hyperdrive and my brain was flooded with sense impressions. I felt the snug tightness of my plimsolls around my feet, the soft cotton caress of my ankle socks around my ankles, the firm grip of the ropes binding my ankles, legs, wrists, waist, arms and shoulders, the tight grip of the binding around my shaft and scrotum, which held back the pressure developing inside me and delayed my ejaculation until I could hardly bear the wait any longer, the feel of every rib of the condom circling my hot, tingling, throbbing, swollen prick sheathed in smooth latex and in the warm wet pulsating grip of her vagina, the hot sweaty contact of our stomachs rising and falling together, the soft sweaty cushioning of her breasts contrasting with the sharp bullet-hardness of her nipples, and the slightly sticky grip of my gag on my lips and face. I could feel my shaved groin gliding over her perfectly smoothed mound, the movement lubricated by the film of baby oil warmed by our body heat. I smelled the uniquely turning-on smell of the clean new canvas and rubber of our plimsolls. Most of all I was engulfed by her gorgeous smell; that wonderful mix of fragrant femininity and female passion, which I so wanted to keep in my memory.

Then I came with several great throaty muffled cries into my gag. My prick tingled, pulsated and throbbed all together and my balls ached as I pumped several great jets of cum, followed by a deliciously long leak, into my condom. I moaned and rested my head next to hers. Aware of the movement, she moved her head slightly to touch against mine. We lay like that for a few minutes as we came down from our climax. She went back to her contended kitten mewing while I hummed in harmony with her.

**********

Number 3 carefully and gently peeled off the girl's blindfold and revealed her dark eyes, shining with pleasure. We were untied from each other and I was laid on my back next to her. Our eyes beamed to each other with mutual pleasure and gratitude and the fellow feeling of shared experience. We relaxed our sweaty bound bodies and watched them come down from their excited state. My prick subsided from firm through flaccid to normal. The cum-filled end of my condom, evacuated by my retreating prick, lay in a squiggle on my abdomen. Her breasts now rose and fell gently as she breathed easily. Her nipples melted from bullet-pointed hardness back to gentle, rounded little hemispheres and her flushed swollen pussy lips thinned and faded to a gentler pink as her cunt closed up. A wave of tenderness for her washed right through me. I brought my face closer to hers, she responded in kind, and we kissed through our gags. It was only for a second and I only had the faintest impression of her lips on mine through the layers of sticking plaster separating them, but it was a kiss I would always remember.

Number 3 then lifted her and carried her in a fireman's hoist into a side room. My last sight of her was of her draped like a rare and precious carpet over Number 3's shoulder. In the harsh light the white flash of her gag across her still slightly-flushed face, framed by her dark hair hanging down, counterbalanced the gleaming white of her plimsolls and ankle socks as her feet pointed downwards like a ballerina on her toes, while her pale naked body, beaded with sweat and suddenly looking vulnerable in her bondage, joined them together in a graceful curve. Suddenly I thought how fabulous she would look in a tutu or a leotard, with tights - maybe fishnets, and how lovely her little feet would look in ballet shoes with ribbons tied neatly (of course!) around her incredibly sexy ankles. "How I'd love to photograph her like that," I thought.

My ankles and legs were untied and Number 1 led me to another side room. He finished untying me and left me alone. I got a few pins and needles but was otherwise OK. It was good to move freely again. A notice on a table on which my clothes had been laid said "Prepare to leave. Knock on door when ready." I gingerly peeled off my gag and removed the rubber ball from my mouth. I opened and closed my mouth a few times. It felt so good. I released my genitals from their bondage and took off my plimsolls and ankle socks and had a good long wash at a sink using the flannel, soap and towel provided. I drank from a bottle of mineral water left there for me. It was good to wash away the taste of rubber from my mouth.

I got dressed and then noticed a bag on the table. Inside were a coil of the rope used to tie me up and a roll of the plaster used for my gag, along with several of the rubber balls. A note on the bag said, "For your future pleasure. Footwear yours also." I smiled and placed the still gleaming white plimsolls and the socks with now somewhat less than clean soles into the bag to add to my collection. I knocked on the door. Number 1 returned and handed me a hood and a note which said, "Put on hood. Can remove on hearing 3 knocks." I put on the hood and felt myself led from the building and into the back of a van. It started off and when I heard 3 knocks removed the hood.

As I sat alone on the return journey, with my bag on my knees, I felt grateful to Rick for showing me what can happen when you go for what you most want. I decided to phone him the next day and join his ballet class. I've always loved pictures of girls in leotards and tights putting on ballet shoes and tying the ribbons around their ankles and I'd always wanted to do it myself. Rick could get on with the dancing and I'd just sit on the floor being gently turned on by the feel of figure hugging Lycra leotard and tights on my body and the sight of my feet in ballet shoes with the ribbons tied tightly round my ankles. I wasn't going to deny my dreams any more. Tonight, not only had I fulfilled one of my deepest fantasies, I had experienced something far better: true intimacy with a fantastic girl.

I wondered how I could see her again. Even if she was local I may not have recognised her. She had been gagged all the time I had seen her and without her mouth my mental picture of her was incomplete. But then I was sure I would recognise her lovely dark eyes. Then I got a text message, "Female desires contact with Male if agreed." My fumbling fingers couldn't type and send "Agreed" fast enough. Another text: "Lorna," followed by her mobile number. Then the van stopped and Number 1 let me out and handed me a sheet of paper and a pen. I signed the receipt and handed pen and paper back to him. He didn't speak or smile but he winked slightly at me as he handed me my copy of the receipt, got back in the van and drove away.

The contract was fulfilled. I was outside the pub again, two hours had gone by. Feeling elated I decided on a celebratory pint.

"You look like you've just pulled," the barman laughed.

"You could say that," I smiled.

"Lucky bastard! How did you manage that?" he asked.

"You'd never believe me if I told you," I smiled as I carried my pint to a table. I sat down and dialled her number.

"Lorna?...Hi, it's Steve. It's lovely to hear your voice at last....How are you feeling?....Me too!....Lorna, do you like ballet?"
 
Re: An old story I hope you like

Who wants the next part? :icon_ques
 
Re: An old story I hope you like

There's plenty more of this story to come if anyone wants to read it. I've finished chapter 1 of a new story and am well into chapter 2 but it will be some time before the story is ready. So I hope that this older story keep you entertained until then.

All the best
Plimsolllover
 
Re: An old story I hope you like

Chapter 1, Part 2 – Lorna's story (Part 1)

Whenever I broke up with a guy, I would always feel for a few days afterwards that strange mixture of relief and regret. Justin and I had been too alike, which had made the sex fantastic but the rows too blazing to be bearable any more. Our last night together was still recent enough to make me wince whenever I thought of it. We had screamed at each other for what seemed like hours, but was in fact seven minutes of super-condensed frustration and outraged betrayal of the hopes we'd invested in each other. His parting word to me before he slammed the door and left my flat and my life forever still resonated inside me.

"You don't have to win every fucking time, all the fucking time!"

At first my mind had counterattacked: What did that jerk think I was? I'm a corporate lawyer on seventy grand advising blue chip clients. He knew I'm competitive and like getting my own way. Was I supposed to curl up on the rug at his feet whenever he looked at me? Then I realised that I'd no idea what he'd wanted from me or what his hopes for us had been. I'd never bothered to find out. I'd carried him with me for three months and now he'd had enough and gone, leaving me with nothing, because I'd invested nothing in him. I'd been brought up to be a winner, but if this was winning, it sucked.

I had absorbed myself in my twin passions of work and ballet, agreeing to take part in the local amateur company's next production and adding twice-weekly rehearsals to my already heavy schedule. But tonight I'd gone to the gym. I'd looked around at the others pushing themselves to their limits and beyond and my competitive instincts had kicked in and for a little while all seemed normal. But after a few minutes I'd given up. 'Sod this,' I'd thought, 'I need to think.' Now I was in my usual wine bar, no closer to an answer. Then Julia saw me and came over to my table.

"How was gym tonight?" I asked her as she sat down. I'd known her since she'd started coming to the gym several months ago and often met her for a drink and a good natter afterwards. She was tall, blonde and athletic with an hourglass figure and legs to die for. I'm more of a gamine type and I always felt like an inadequate stick insect next to her.

"It was OK, but are you OK Lorna? I saw you leave early," she asked.

I told her about Justin and about what he'd said.

"And was he right?" she asked. I thought a moment before replying.

"Yes, I suppose in a way he was. It's not that I'm incapable of giving and sharing, it's just that the instinct has become so buried inside me that I feel I need something to happen, something quite incredibly profound, for me to let it out again."

"What does that something look like to you right now?" Julia asked.

"You'll be shocked when I tell you," I warned her.

"Try me," she smiled.

I took a deep breath and began.

"I often have fantasies about being in a state of complete helplessness. When we were children my brothers would tie me up and gag me and then make me run off into the woods by our house so they could hunt me down. We called it 'Fugitive'. I still get these deep desires to be tied up and gagged, naked on a bed and then have to give the man whose going to fuck me what he wants and trust he'll treat me right and release me afterwards. But I've always suppressed them because I could never reconcile them with my drive to always be competing and coming out on top, so to speak."

We laughed and then she spoke.

"You seem less resistant to the idea now. Would you actually do it now if you had the opportunity?"

"Why not?" I replied, "I feel now I'd have nothing to lose by trying and it might even be fun with the right guy."

Julia looked straight at me.

"If you want it, I can arrange it for you."

"What are you talking about?" I was shocked.

Julia remained calm.

"My partner and I run a business that enables people to live out their deepest fantasies and desires. I'm not talking about perverts, but ordinary people like you and me, living ordinary lives but having amazing imaginations. My partner Rick fantasised for years about wanting to be a ballerina before he decided to have lessons. Now he can dance on his toes and he looks so gorgeous and feminine in his white swan costume. He set up the business after his experience of meeting lots of other men, and women, who wanted to live their fantasies too. For years before I met him I'd dreamed of skydiving naked. He arranged it for me. The second time, we jumped together with him strapped to my back and we fucked at five thousand feet. It was fantastic. I joined him in the business after that. Remind me to show you the photos some time."

"How do I know you're not making this up?" I asked her; hardly able to believe I was hearing this.

She gave me a list.

"These are women clients who will recommend our services if you ask them. Several of them work in your firm."

I was amazed to see the name of our senior litigation partner on the list.

"OK, now you've convinced me, I'm prepared to put my money where my mouth is. How much and what must I do?" I asked.

"It's £500, non-refundable and payable now. You sign a contract now and then you do everything you're told, no questions asked, until you sign a receipt to say the contract is concluded. Do you still want to go ahead?"

I gave her a cheque and signed the contract. Julia gave me a date and, after ensuring that it didn't coincide with my next period, I agreed.

"Is there anything else we can do to make your experience enjoyable," she asked.

I gave her an embarrassed smile and admitted my secret to her.

"I shave my pussy every month. I call it my Nice Time of the Month. It would be really kinky if someone shaved me while I was tied up on the bed. Then I want to be blindfolded and have my ears blocked up so I'm completely helpless. On second thoughts I'll need to hear to get some stimulation. If I can't see him at least I can get off on the noises he makes. Oh, and make sure he wears a condom."

Julia wrote in a notebook. "I'll meet you outside the gym at 8. Make sure you're on time," she instructed as she left.

What have I let myself in for, I wondered.

**********

That morning, I thought carefully about what to wear, feeling I needed to make a good first impression on my partner to be. I settled on an outfit that I hoped would smart and sexy at the same time: tight black sweater to make the most of my meagre frontage, a little red tartan mini skirt with a belt to emphasise my very slim waist and legs, grey tights as a change from boring black and also to give a better contrast to my favourite black patent leather ballerina pumps. To make things interesting at the undressing stage I had chosen a matching bra and pants in white with little red polka dots. The bra lifted and pushed my small breasts together and made quite a reasonable cleavage by my standards and was revealing enough to make a decent display of my somewhat limited assets. Then I headed for the office, where time went slowly and it was hard to concentrate on my research for a legal opinion on a proposed corporate restructuring by one of our major clients.

When I met Julia at last she had a transit van parked in a side road near the gym. As we stood at the back she asked me a final time if I wanted to back out. I was nervous but determined to see it through. We waited for a couple of moments before her mobile rang. She said one word, "Confirmed!", then told me what to do.

"Get in the van and lie on the floor with your arms straight next to your sides."

I stretched out on the blanket. Julia knelt beside me.

"Open your mouth" she ordered.

I did, and she pushed a small rubber ball into my mouth.

"Now close," she said, "and lift up your head."

I obeyed, and she smoothed a strip of sticking plaster over my mouth and then pressed another strip under my chin and smoothed the ends over my cheeks. I was so firmly gagged I couldn't move my lips or my jaw at all.

"Don't try to talk or make any sound," Julia ordered me, "Now place your hands on your back."

As I realised that Julia was about to tie me up I felt a sudden rush of mingled fear and deep sexual excitement as my bondage desires, deeply suppressed since those childhood games of Fugitive, wildly celebrated their release as I was forced into rope-bound captivity. My pulse raced as my breath surged through my nostrils and I suddenly felt warm and damp between my legs. She bound my wrists together then made me lift my body slightly so she could tie my arms to my sides and then she tied my ankles and my upper legs just above my knees. Then I was alone, completely helpless in the back while she drove off.

The van stopped and Julia appeared at my side. She blindfolded me with a scarf, which made me even wetter with excitement, slid me out of the van and carried me with ease in a fireman's hoist into a building. I was amazed at how strong she was. I was placed on the floor and when she removed my blindfold I saw I was in a large empty room like a workshop, the kind of place you see in crime films or TV series. In the middle of the room was a bed surrounded by lights on stands, which I assumed was where the action would take place. Julia sat on a chair close to me and I drew my knees up to my breasts from an instinctive need to hide my damp crotch. I was nervous of what would happen next. After a few minutes, four men entered through a door in the opposite wall. For a split-second of stabbing fear I thought they were all going to do me. Then I realised that the one dressed differently from the others in a charcoal grey suit – the others wore black – was tied up and gagged like me. And then I realised that he had been brought here to fulfil my fantasy, and I was here to fulfil his!

**********

As he first caught sight of me he looked genuinely worried about me, which I thought was nice. Then the leader of the other men, who I guessed was Rick, told me to indicate to the man that I was here from my own choice. I nodded and made a little 'Mmm' in my gag for emphasis. The man seemed reassured. At least he's good looking and takes care of himself, I thought, noticing that in spite of being tied up he looked smart, clean and well groomed. I hoped he didn't turn out to be a pervert after all. I was glad I was wearing smart office clothes and hoped that he thought I looked OK. At the same time I wished I had bigger breasts and a more womanly figure and really shapely legs, basically that I looked like Julia and not still like the gangly schoolgirl I was at 15, which may look fine in my gym kit or my ballet costume but seemed lacking in this situation. It's strange what comes into your mind at stressful moments.

Rick's voice ordering me to strip naked jolted me from my reverie. Julia untied me but left me gagged while the man was made to sit in a chair to watch me, which he didn't seem to mind too much. I was beginning to feel very self-conscious of my pale, girlish body and very aware of the signs it was showing of my sexually heightened state. 'He'll think I'm a total slut,' I thought, as I began undressing, finding it hard to stop myself shaking sufficiently to use my fingers. I breathed deeply and thought, 'Here goes,' as I pulled off my sweater to reveal I was only wearing a bra underneath. The guy looked at me with great interest, which encouraged me. 'Maybe I'm his type after all,' I thought.

Emboldened, I undid my skirt and, while I was on a role, unhooked my bra and gave him a good eyeful. My breasts are small but nicely rounded and I hoped he was enjoying my display. His eyes smiled at me over his gag and it felt nice to be actively seeking his approval. Until now I would never have considered the idea that making the effort to discover what it was about me that caused a man to find pleasure in me could be pleasurable in itself.

Before tonight I'd never knowingly stripped off with more than one pair of eyes observing, so I forced myself to concentrate on the guy and ignore the others. I have a close to compulsive need for order and tidiness so I steadied my nerves by carefully folding and piling my clothes as I removed them. I let him have a another good look at my breasts as I placed my bra on top of the pile and his eyes really seemed to brighten, which really encouraged me. 'So what if my pants have a big damp patch, just wait until he sees the state I'm in underneath,' I thought, as I took them off. 'Anyway, he'll relax more if he can see I'm enjoying myself too.' And, in spite of my nervousness, I was enjoying myself with the challenge of overcoming my nerves by channelling my growing desire to fulfil my fantasy with this man.

Then I noticed that there was a row of different sized pairs of white shoes along one wall and one of the gang was comparing my shoes with them. I was even more puzzled when he handed a pair of them to me and Rick told me to put them on. When I looked closely I realised that they were white plimsolls, with a pair of white ankle socks tucked inside one of them. 'I haven't worn these since school gym lessons, what's this all about?' I thought. Then I realised that this must be part of the guy's fantasy. 'He is a pervert after all,' I thought, shooting him an accusing glance over my gag. But I couldn't help smiling inwardly at his slightly sheepish shrug and the appeal in his eyes. Besides, I'd always used to think my feet looked cute in plimsolls, it would be fun to wear them again and putting them on would also help to combat my nerves. I smiled at him with my eyes and he seemed reassured.

Reckoning that it would be a big turn on for the guy, I sat so he could see my feet clearly from side on and everything I was doing with them. My slightly fumbling fingers pulled on the first white ankle sock. I looked at my foot in it. 'It does look cute,' I thought. Then with slightly shaky hands holding the matching white plimsoll I pushed my soft cotton-covered foot into it. It felt nice. Then for a few seconds I could absorb myself in tightening and tying the laces in a neat symmetrical bow. I repeated the process with my other foot.

I stood up. I was getting into my performance now. The guy had looked at me with real pleasure in his eyes all the time and I was enjoying being the object and the reason for his pleasure: Me, with my pale, skinny adolescent schoolgirl body and beanpole legs, standing before him, naked and gagged and wearing schoolgirl white plimsolls and ankle socks; me, and my inadequate flesh and blood, giving life at last to his wet dream. I wondered how he was imagining me now, maybe in a tennis dress and no knickers like in the poster, or in a gymslip and my hair in pigtails – or maybe he would be wearing them.

Emboldened and almost intoxicated by the sexual thoughts and erotic images flooding my brain I began to dance for him, skipping from foot to foot and pointing and turning my plimsolled feet as if I was wearing my white ballet shoes. I swayed and turned with outstretched arms so he could see my breasts and my open, excited pussy in all their glory. I could see his eyes shining with delight over his gag and the thought of his swollen dick bulging inside his trousers drove me on in my titillating improvisation.

But then I glanced behind him and caught sight of his guards watching me. Their expressionless faces and eyes stopped me dead and then self-consciousness returned with its sharp stab. I was suddenly and painfully aware of my little pixie girl face and my schoolgirl scrap of a body with my tiny tits and hips like a boy's and my matchstick arms and legs with wrists and ankles a child could get her thumb and finger around. I was overcome with the need to cover myself and make myself as small as possible. I hunched and cowered before them while I covered up my pubescent tits and my pathetic little fanny as best as I could.
 
Re: An old story I hope you like

Many thanks, tretornluver. My last plimsolls were tretorns btw.

Chapter 1, Part 2 - Lorna's story (2nd part)

I was rescued from my crushing state of sudden self-loathing by the compassionate look in the man's eyes as he shook his head slightly, as if trying to tell me not to think of myself like that. I was also saved by Rick's decision that it was time for me to be tied up again and tied down on the bed. It seems totally warped looking back on it now, but at that moment, the feel of the ropes being tightened and tied around my wrists and upper body felt somehow familiarly comforting, while the prospect of being tied down on the bed gave me a new situation to concentrate on and respond to.

Once I had been made to lie down on the bed I absorbed myself in the intricacies of being tied down on it. Two twists of rope went around my upper body just under my armpits, the ends passing beneath my shoulders before being tied to the head posts, thus fixing my upper body in place. Then another rope crossed over my waist several times across the bed, pinning down my lower body. My ankles were tied to the foot posts with short lengths of rope, so that I was now stretched out and unable to move.

Then for a split second my competitive instinct tried to rebel against my state of total naked helplessness and I had to suppress the urge to struggle against my bonds and scream out through my gag 'NO! STOP IT! I DON'T WANT THIS ANYMORE! LET ME GO!' I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I had chosen to be rendered completely powerless and helpless and to entrust myself to others that they would only do with me what had been agreed beforehand, to learn an extreme lesson in trusting others and being worthy of trust in return. As I held onto that thought and relaxed myself, I became aware that the close grip of the ropes bound around my body now felt strangely comforting, like a tight, squeezing hug, the sort I'd grown up longing for from my parents but had never had from either. Anyway, I knew the next part of the tableau was something I was going to enjoy very much. But when Rick announced I was going to be shaved, I couldn't for some reason help feeling embarrassed in my turn when the guy looked at me quizzically. My burning cheeks were hidden under my gag, but my flushed forehead gave me away. His eyes smiled as he shook his head and my eyes smiled back ruefully.

I had started shaving Down South about a year ago out of curiosity to see if I felt more comfortable in my ballet tights. I enjoyed the feeling of shaving my bush off so much that I let it grow back so I could enjoy the experience again. As time went on I could shave more frequently until I got it down to four-week intervals, hence my Nice Time of the Month. Shaving myself was a pleasure, but now the feeling I was getting as Julia shaved me was just gorgeous. I'm very ticklish and as Julia applied shaving cream with a brush all around my pussy I giggled with delight into my gag.

Then as I felt the wonderful feeling of my hair being expertly removed by the smooth strokes of a safety razor I began to moan with pleasure through my gag. I felt a twinge of embarrassment when I started but then thought, 'What's the point? I'm really going to enjoy this.' And I did, moaning even louder into my gag, swaying my head from side to side and pointing my plimsolled feet as if I was on the points of my ballet shoes in a passionate pas-de-deux with my partner. My breasts rose and fell as if carried on a mighty ocean swell. All the while I was aware of getting warmer and wetter between my legs. As Julia gently applied baby oil, I purred with deep pleasure with the delicious feelings coming from my newly shaved areas.

My preparations completed, I could now watch supinely as the man was made ready. He looked very self-conscious as he began to undress. Knowing how that felt, I nodded and made encouraging noises to him through my gag, which seemed to help him. I looked on approvingly as he draped his clothes carefully over the chair he'd been sitting on before being untied and as his nakedness emerged I approved even more. He had a trim, attractively proportioned and smoothly-featured body, with little hair other than around his groin and his armpits. He hadn't done anything to match my little dance for him. But he made up for it by facing me as he removed his pants and pulling them down in a way that made his dick spring up as it was freed from their grasp. He was really nicely hung and his dick stuck up from between his shapely thighs like a conger eel emerging from its rocky lair. I was so given over to the situation now that I had no inhibition about groaning into my gag with delight at the sight of it, the anticipation of taking it into me and the sheer frustration at not being able to grasp it and plunge it in my mouth there and then. That encouraged him too and the smile he gave me with his eyes over his gag made me shiver.

He sat down facing me as he put on a pair of plimsolls and ankle socks and I saw the smooth, bulbous head of his dick start to glisten with his pre-cum. 'He's a real foot fetishist alright,' I thought, 'Still, feet are great fun and there are much worse things to be into.' I waved my plimsolled feet at him and that pleased him too. It suddenly struck me how building him up in his pleasure was increasing my anticipation of my own pleasure to come. 'He'll be red hot for me when the time comes,' I thought, making my pulse race even more.

As he was being tied up again, Rick told him he could choose to be shaved as well. I hadn't thought of the possibility and I was pleased at Rick's inspiration. I was delighted when he grunted in agreement. His guards laid him on the floor while Julia got to work on him and I gasped inwardly when she produced a cut throat razor, before admiring her skill as she shaved him in the most intimate places imaginable. He groaned in pleasure and made a sharp 'UHHMM!' sound whenever she took hold of his dick to move it away from the razor and again when she rubbed him with baby oil. She wore latex gloves which probably increased the erotic element even more for him. I was pleased he seemed happy with having to wear a condom. He groaned some more as Julia rolled it onto his shaft and then fixed it on him with surgical tape wrapped in a figure of eight around the base of his shaft and the top of his scrotum. Then his ankles and legs were retied and he was ready for me.

**********

Like a satellite docking with a space station, the guy was lifted up and brought over me. He exuded a deeply arousing mixture of after shave, sporty shower gel, sweat and high-level testosterone. His huge, swollen dick now imprisoned within his condom hung horizontally in parallel with his bound body. He looked at me over his gag with a mixture of desire and of invitation too. 'Let's make this fantastic for both of us,' he seemed to be saying to me. My eyes shone back in response to him as my whole body tensed in anticipation of his first contact and of his entrance. He went 'UHHMM!' again as Julia, again provoking envy within me, took hold of his dick and I shuddered with excitement as I felt the first touch of his head against my wet and wide open pussy. Then we both gasped in our gags as Julia pushed him into me and he penetrated deep inside me as he was finally laid on the prepared table of my body.

We had been told not to move until allowed, so now we both had to endure an agony of waiting while he was tied down onto me. His groin settled into mine and his chest cushioned on my breasts. I got a gorgeous feeling in my nipples as they pressed into him and the velvety sensitive feeling in my pussy as it enveloped his stiff, swollen dick radiated deliciously through my body. He was able to look me directly in the eyes and I really felt he was actually making love to me with his gaze. I felt a tremendous affinity growing between us that seemed to spring from the amazing experience we were sharing yet to exist independently of it. I responded to his eyes in kind and then suddenly remembered with a sinking feeling inside that I had asked to be blindfolded.

Rick's announcement of my decision caused the guy to look at me with regret and yet with understanding as well. I began to regret my decision as Julia placed make up pads over my eyes and placed a strip of sticking plaster over them, but I knew I had to go through with it now and get as much from the experience as I could. Most of my face was now covered in plaster. Only a thin strip of my forehead under my hairline, the lower part of my nose and the tip of my chin were free of the sticky grasp of my blindfold and my gag.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with the awareness of what I would be unable to do with him. I desperately wanted to enfold him in my arms and kiss him deeply open-mouthed and cry out to him in my ecstasy and wrap my legs around him and rub my feet up and down his legs and push him deeper into me with my feet pressing on his buttocks – something my years of ballet training enabled me to do. But most of all I wanted to drink up the look of his desire and his pleasure for me in his eyes. I wanted them to be my reference point in what was about to happen, not the feel of his penis buried deep in the warm, moist, velvet-smoothness of my vagina, or the weight of him crushing down on my breasts.

And then, as Rick told us we could begin, my drive to dominate and control began to rebel again. How dare he expect me to lie passively, tied up, tied down, gagged, naked apart from these silly little girl white plimsolls and ankle socks that I've been tricked into wearing by this pathetic pervert crushing the life out of me while he prods me, who I can't even see or tell him to go fuck himself. I began to make angry 'MMMPH! MMMPH!' noises at him through my gag, 'Give it to me now you bastard and get off me!' I strained against the ropes holding down my waist and contracted my pelvic floors as hard as I could as if trying to squeeze his load out of his dick. I expected him to respond in his anger with a few sharp stabs into me and then it would all be over.

[Part 3 to follow]
 
Re: An old story I hope you like

Chapter 1, Part 2 - Lorna's story (Third part)

I was on the point of being crushed by this last thought and the prospect of the whole crazy business being for nothing, when I became aware of his voice close to my ear. There was no trace of anger. Instead I heard gentle, soothing, comforting 'Mmmm, Mmmm.' sounds, which somehow brought me back from the brink of despair. Then I remembered his eyes and all the care, concern, pleasure and desire for me that he had communicated to me through them. I calmed down and responded with a gentle 'Mmm-Mmm.'

We seemed to have a natural ability to communicate without words. By humming or grunting with a rising or falling inflection, he was able to ask me if I ready and I was able to tell him I was. Then, as he began to explore me with gentle thrusts, I was able to tell him if he was getting warmer or colder. He was pushing with his feet against a wooden board fixed across the bed so that he could thrust. I anticipated getting a real humping and expected to feel the effect of it for a good while afterwards.

At first he found a rhythm that felt warm and arousing deep within me. I purred with deep pleasure into my gag as at last I felt the fabulously relieving rub of his gorgeous dick against my throbbing clit. Then he changed up a gear and the pressure gauge inside me started to climb. My purring changed to a deep throaty growl as he began to hit my G-spot and send sparks shooting inside me with every thrust and then I felt myself on the verge of coming, too soon. I made an urgent 'MMMPH! MMMPH!' to him through my gag and he immediately understood and changed down again.

After a few more minutes of deeply pleasurable purring whilst enjoying his contented grunting, he asked me in our gag language if I was ready for the finale. I nodded sightlessly to him and hummed 'Mmm-Mmm' in my affirmation and he changed up again. The feeling deep inside me was fabulous. I pointed my feet ballerina-style, dug my fingers into the mattress, shook my head from side to side and made deep throaty cries into my gag in total sexual abandon every time he hit my spot.

Then, like a torrent of fresh rainwater bursting out of a storm drain, my orgasm welled up from the deepest depths of me. I went rigid with shock for a second, then screamed through my gag and screamed again and screamed again and then collapsed into an ecstatic moan as I was carried on the crest, then floated in the shallows, then was finally washed ashore, totally spent. In my rapture I realised he had stopped to let me enjoy the gorgeous feeling without distraction. I suddenly felt so overwhelmed with gratitude to and for this wonderful man who had helped me to enjoy such a fantastic experience.

I decided to prove to him that ballerinas really do make the best lovers, thanks to the superb condition of our pelvic floors. I squeezed and released my muscles in a deep rhythm and I delighted in the moans of pleasure he made through his gag with the massage I was giving him. Then I made an encouraging 'MMM! MMM!' noise to him as if saying 'Come on, give me all you've got!' Although I was starting to get sore with the humping of his unsupported body over my groin, I urged him on with 'MOOOUUHM! MUUUHM!' noises through my gag in rhythm with the 'HUUUMPH! MUUUMPH!' noises he was making through his gag as he thrust deep into me. Then he came with a great 'UHHHHRRRMMMM!' and I felt him shudder in his deepest pleasure. I massaged him again and he moaned some more before he went quieter and then I was aware that he was resting his head right next to mine from the feel on my ear of his heavy breathing.

By now we were both bathed in sweat and gasping for breath. We were quickly untied from each other and I felt him being lifted off me. My blindfold was removed and I discovered to my delight that he had been laid on his back next to me. I watched his dick gradually get smaller and saw the great milky glob of his cum accumulated in the end of his condom. I relaxed and enjoyed the feeling as my pussy changed back from a wide open portal to a discrete slit within the deliciously silky smoothness of my mound. I longed to stroke him and tell him and thank him for how wonderful he had made me feel. But we remained bound and gagged and all I could do was smile at him with my eyes and make an 'Mmm-Mmm?' sound to him to ask if he was OK. He smiled back with his shining eyes and made a long, low and very sexily affirming 'Mmmmm!' sound. We held each other with our eyes and then his face came closer to mine. I could see a very faint outline of his lips through his gag and I touched the place with my own plaster-covered lips. Although I couldn't feel his mouth on mine, it was the most amazing kiss I'd ever shared.

**********

It only lasted a second because at that moment Julia started untying me from the bed. Then she lifted me over her shoulder, with my bare bottom pointing to the roof and my ballerina-pointed feet hanging down in front of her, and took me to a side room. My final sight of him was his beautiful body lying stretched on the bed, trussed up like a delicious great hunk of beef and topped and tailed in white by his gag and his plimsolls and socks like a rack of lamb. I longed to see him with his smooth and lightly tanned body glistening with oil, wearing a tiny black satin posing pouch and shiny black leather ballet slippers. Hey! I thought, now he's getting me into this foot fetish business. I bet he thinks I look like a dead deer! The very familiarity of the thoughts I was having about him now suddenly made me realise that I had absolutely no idea who he was, and I absolutely had to see him again.

I was desperate to sign off my contract because I knew that Julia wouldn't speak to me until then, and I needed her help to contact him. But now she laid me on my side on a couch in the side room, facing the wall so she could untie me then left me alone. I was desperate for the loo by now and was so grateful to find that the room contained a small cubicle with a WC. I had a marvellous double relief as I sat on the toilet and carefully peeled off my gag. I shouted in sheer delight at being able to use my mouth again. I laughed at the idea of me and the sight of myself sitting on a toilet naked wearing white plimsolls and ankle socks and laughed again just for the simple pleasure of being able to laugh and patted the floor with my plimsolled feet.

Then I wanted to enjoy the pleasure of unrestricted movement. Using a wall-mounted radiator as a ballet barre, I went through some simple ballet exercises to bend and stretch limbs and muscles that had been fast-bound for what felt like an age. This was not an unusual thing for me to do as I often dance naked in my ballet shoes at home. But now I rejoiced in the wonderful feeling of freedom to move my naked body as I chose and felt very sexy as I saw at the ends of my bare legs my feet pointing in my white plimsolls and ankle socks.

After giving myself a good workout, I took off my plimsolls and socks, had a good long wash and got dressed. They had even provided a new pair of white silk pants for me to wear, which felt lovely against my newly shaved groin. Next to my clothes was a bag with a label stuck to it which read: For your future pleasure. I looked inside and laughed out loud as I saw a length of the rope used to tie me up and a roll of sticking plaster and some small rubber balls like those used to gag me. The label also said: Please keep footwear. My plimsolls were still pristinely white but my socks needed a good wash. I put them in my somewhat unusual goody bag.

I was ready to leave. Another notice said, Prepare to leave. Knock when ready. I knocked on the door and Julia returned and, smiling, handed me another note which read: You will be blindfolded. Can remove on signal 3 knocks. She blindfolded me and led me out of the building, holding my handbag and my goody bag, and into the back of a van. I heard the signal and removed my blindfold. Now I had some quiet moments in which to think.

I knew deep inside me that this incredible experience had changed me forever. Now I really understood that it was far better to get what I wanted by asking and sharing rather than by demanding and dominating. And that what I got was far better for having gone that way. I realised that I was misusing the strength and determination in my nature to overcompensate for a poor self-image. Yet this man had seen me in my little-girlie body in my most naked, vulnerable and helpless state imaginable and found me beautiful and desirable, and I had felt cherished by him. He had encouraged me and comforted me and, even bound and gagged, had taken care of me and been strong for me when I had most needed him to be. By encouraging him and seeking to pleasure him in return, I had had the most intimate, tender and fantastically erotic sexual experience of my life. From what could have been so clinical and sordid and denying of humanity, we had made a wonderful, beautiful celebration of it, together. I just had to see him again!

The van stopped and Julia let me out of the back of the van. We were back where it had all begun two hours and a lifetime ago. I signed the form that said my contract was fulfilled and then we hugged each other close.

"Are you alright Lorna, really alright?" she asked me, anxiously.

"Oh Julia, I've got to know who he is, I have to see him again. Please will you tell me his name and where I can reach him?"

Julia looked at me gently.

"He's a client so I can only give you his personal details if he agrees first. Let me see what I can do."

She moved away from me and sent a text on her mobile. After several agonising minutes she handed me her mobile with a big smile. On the screen I read, 'STEVE', followed by his mobile number. I burst into tears of joy and relief. I wanted to phone him there and then, but I knew I needed to do some serious de-stressing first to be at my best for him.

"Julia, please take me home," I sniffed as I dabbed at my eyes with the tissue she had given me.

Back at my flat I changed into my favourite Chinese-style dressing gown in dark blue silk, with a picture of swans in flight on the back, and my favourite pink ballet slippers that I wear every day. I ran a bath with my favourite scented oil, dimmed the lights and lit some candles, put some of my favourite romantic ballet music on the CD player, poured myself a large glass of chilled white wine and took out a box of chocolates from the fridge. Then I shed my dressing gown and slid my feet from my ballet slippers and, with a deep satisfied purr, eased myself into the deliciously soft and scented warm water and felt the mountain of foam close in over me. At that very moment my mobile phone, which I had placed in readiness on a chair next to the bath, rang. Before I picked it up I knew for certain it was him.

[End of chapter 1]
 
Re: An old story I hope you like

Chapter 2. All sides now

Part 1 – Steve's story (1st part)

"Steve, I absolutely love ballet! I went to ballet school until I was 18. Then I was in the University Ballet Company. I still go to classes twice a week and I dance with the local ballet company when I have the time. I'm thrilled you love ballet as well."

It was probably because I had been unable to hear it when we first met that I now loved listening to Lorna's clear, bright, sing-song soprano voice so much. I already knew I could tell her anything.

"Actually I have to admit I'm more into the fetish side of it but I'd watch a ballet with you any time," I said.

"That's a good starting point," she laughed, "I can get complementary tickets through the law firm I work for." Then she asked, "Do you want to come to my flat on Saturday and bring your ballet kit with you?"

"I'd love to come and I'd love to bring my ballet kit if I had some," I said.

Lorna had the answer to that.

"My friend Irina has a dancewear shop in the next town. If you phone her and mention my name she'll give you a private fitting. You could go in the morning, and then we could have an early evening meal and then have lots of time for fun and games afterwards. You can stay the night as well."

Even yesterday I would have balked at going into a dancewear shop regardless of the fun and games on offer. But after the experience we had shared earlier today I no longer worried about such inhibitions.

"That sounds fantastic," I replied, "What's her number?"

I walked into Irina's shop at our arranged time. She was an attractive blonde Czech woman in her late 40's who had danced with the Czech National Ballet. She spoke textbook English with a flowingly dramatic Czech accent.

"So glad you could come," she said, "Any friend of Lorna's gets the very best service here."

She led me into another room where all the ballet clothes and shoes were and I spent a wonderful time with her choosing various colours of leotards, Lycra shorts, tights and sexy leather ballet slippers. The first time I tried on a combination of leotard, tights and slippers, I was glad I was in the changing room on my own because I got a huge hard on with excitement.

Then Irina helped me to choose a tutu. I decided on a simple, white one with a little short skirt. The best part was when I put on a pair of white satin ballerina pointe shoes for the first time. I was still wearing a white leotard and tights and my body and especially my feet looked and felt fabulous. When we'd found the best-fitting pair, Irina sewed the ribbons and elastic on for me while we drank strong black coffee, with me enjoying the shape of my feet in white ballet tights, and she told me stories of her life in the Czech ballet. When I put on the ballet shoes again and she showed me how to tie the ribbons snugly and neatly around my ankles, my rapture was complete. She presented me with a little diamante tiara and let me choose a long, blonde-haired wig.

"So you can be a real Czech Ballerina," she laughed.

"I'll see you again soon, that's a promise," I said to her as I drove away with all my purchases on the back seat.

I rang the bell to Lorna's flat at 6. Her lyrical soprano tones welcomed me over the crackle of the intercom and the door opened with a buzz. She was waiting for me on the landing at the top of the stairs. Now I could see her mouth at last she looked beautiful. It was small and pretty with slightly pouting lips which looked very sexy and suggested a strong temperament behind her cute girl appearance. The lines of her face flowed down symmetrically to a slightly pointed chin to complete an attractive heart shape. I called up to her and as she gradually came all into view as I climbed the stairs with my stuff, my eyes became wide open with excitement.

She was wearing a black basque-style leotard with thin straps that showed her slender shoulders perfectly as her dark hair rested on them. It moulded and caressed her lovely little round breasts that I still longed to fondle and clearly showed them to be bare underneath its Lycra embrace, as her nipples, which I couldn't wait to finger and suck, impressed themselves invitingly within the fabric. It smoothed over the curves of her slightly boyish hips, a part of her which until now I hadn't fully appreciated.

Then she turned sideways to pick up a leaflet left on a table next to her front door and I saw her gorgeously rounded bottom, which stuck out a little and looked perfect for fondling. Her leotard moulded an enticing little curve between her legs and came to a short-shorts length on her thighs, emphasising them and inviting them to be felt all around. On her slim, coltish and slightly gawky girlish legs she wore black fishnet tights with a fine mesh, exactly what I imagined her wearing when I'd first seen her! How did she know? I could only think it was feminine intuition.

Then my heart skipped in excitement when I saw that on her small and pretty feet she was again wearing, still gleaming pristinely white, her plimsolls and a pair of ankle socks with the tops, once again, turned down perfectly around her slim and shapely ankles. Her gorgeous little feet and ankles looked so sexy I wanted to fall on my knees and kiss them there and then.

"Hi gorgeous, you're still wearing them I see," I said, after an admiring glance at her feet.

"They sort of grew on me. I wear them lots now," she beamed and looked at my gear. "It looks like you bought the whole shop," she exclaimed, "I'll help you inside with it."

She bent down to pick up some of the bags and made sure I got a good view of her breasts nestled inside her leotard and of her lovely Lycra-covered bottom.

Once inside her front door we at last held and kissed each other, having been unable to do either at our first meeting. It was worth the wait. Her lips felt gorgeously soft, with a moist fruity quality. I felt the gentle thud of her heart and rise and fall of her diaphragm and every tremble of her body through her leotard. Her breasts again cushioned my chest and her mound snuggled into my groin as they had done the previous time. This time though I could also feel her legs pressed against mine and her slender girlish arms draped around my neck as she buried her long, slim fingers, with beautifully groomed nails painted in soft red, into my hair.

But even as I delighted in the pleasure of our immediate physical contact and the anticipation of much more and varied physical and sensual pleasures to come, I also knew from the moment I first held her that I felt completely differently about her than any other girl I had ever known. I longed to know her heart as well as her body, and yearned to know the joy and pain of revealing my heart and trusting my vulnerability to her. We held each other for a minute, exchanging contended sighs and 'Oh Darlings!' Then she gave me another kiss and, eagerly took my hand.

"Let me show you around," she smiled.

**********
 
Re: An old story I hope you like

Chapter 2, Part 1 (Second part)

I soon saw that her flat was dedicated to ballet. There were framed ballet posters and photographs on all the walls. Her bookshelves were full of books, videos and CDs devoted to ballet history, ballet dancers, ballet performances, ballet music and ballet photography. The décor included lots of soft satin, silk and lace in white, pink, ivory, cream and peach, contrasting with pale pastel blues and greens, and flashes of scarlet here and there. In pride of place over the sitting room mantelpiece was a large studio portrait photograph of her sitting demurely on a stool, wearing a beautiful white tutu with long gauzy skirt draping her legs sheathed in perfect white tights, her lovely little feet nestling in beautiful shiny white satin ballet shoes with her ankles perfectly and so sexily wrapped in criss-crossing white ribbons, the tips of her toes resting on the floor. Her hair, much longer than now, draped over and softened the line of her shoulder and flowed down her beautifully straight back.

"That's my school graduation picture," she said, then added, smiling coquettishly, "Do you want to slip into something more comfortable before we eat?"

After taking several photos of her sitting on the floor in front of her portrait and looking very sexy in her leotard, fishnets, ankle socks and plimsolls, I took her hint and went to her bathroom to freshen up and change. To complement her outfit, I chose figure hugging black Lycra shorts over close fitting and very cut away black briefs, an equally figure hugging white Lycra vest which exposed my waist and my white ankle socks and white plimsolls. I've kept in trim and have quite good legs so I was pleased with the result. Lorna was very pleased too as I stood framed in her kitchen doorway.

"Steve, you gorgeous man!" she exclaimed as she rushed towards me to embrace and kiss me again. Her touch felt gorgeous through the Lycra. "Come and sit with me for a moment" she said, taking my hand and leading me to her sofa.

We sat with an arm around each other's waist and holding a glass of white wine in our free hand. Our plimsolled feet rested next to each other on the floor like a family of white cats - two little kittens nestling against their parents.

"You look so sexy wearing them," I said admiringly.

"I feel sexy in them," she replied, playfully patting the floor with the soles of her pretty, plimsolled feet. "You were really naughty to make me wear them," she laughed, giving my waist a playful pinch. "I wasn't at all sure about them at first," she continued, "but I really like them now. They remind me of school gym lessons. We wore white polo shirts, navy blue pleated skirts that came just above the knee, with navy blue nickers and white ankle socks and white plimsolls that had to be lace ups and have no markings on them. It was a very conservative school, so no trainers allowed."

"I wish I'd been there," I smiled.

"You would never have passed the medical you naughty boy," she laughed, this time squeezing me between my legs. "Anyway," she continued, "which bits of me turned you on that night? You can talk as dirty as you want."

"OK, let's tell each other in turn – one bit each turn. You started this by the way", I reminded her.

"I asked you first," she responded.

I began.

"I loved how your tits bobbed up and down when you moved."

She responded.

"I loved how your big dick sprang up when you pulled your pants down."

"I loved watching your cunt getting wet with your pussy juice while you were being shaved."

"I loved watching your balls blow up like a balloon when the tape was wrapped around the top of them."

"I loved how you trembled when my prick first touched your cunt."

"I loved that you stopped fucking me so I could enjoy my orgasm."

"I wanted you to enjoy it as much as you could. Especially after all you'd put yourself through to reach it. I loved that you showed me your feet in your plimsolls."

"I guessed you'd really like that. I loved that you helped me calm down when I got scared."

"Were you scared?" My voice was softer now.

"Just for that moment. What about you?" She gave me a little kiss.

"A little bit when I started to undress. You really encouraged me then. And I loved the way you looked at me as I was being brought to you." I gave her a longer kiss.

"I love your little kitten noises," I continued.

"I love your big piggy grunts," she answered.

"I love...."

My words were lost as our mouths melted together. We kissed continuously for several minutes as we smoothed our hands over each other's bodies, enjoying the alternating sensations of smooth Lycra and soft warm skin. She rubbed her plimsolled feet on my bare legs and I was intoxicated by the feeling, along with the mingled smell of canvas and rubber. Sensing the cause of my arousal, she drew her feet up closer so I could feel them through the smooth, pristinely white canvas of her plimsolls and fondle her ankles through the soft cotton richness of her white ankle socks. Then she wrapped her legs around me and as I pushed my groin into hers I felt her dampness through her leotard.

**********

She leaned back from me and looked straight at me.

"I was going to wait until later to fuck you, but let's have a quickie right now," she said as she started to pull down the shoulder straps of her leotard.

"Let me do that," I said, reaching towards her shoulders. I pulled the straps down so they rested against her arms. Then I placed my outstretched fingers on the undersides of her breasts before smoothing my hands up and around her Lycra-covered décolletage until I could feel her erect and pointed nipples digging in to my palms. She mewed like a kitten, with the noise now so familiar to me, as she pushed her breasts further into my palms and kissed me with her rosebud mouth wide open while she buried her fingers in my hair. Then she leaned back again, pulled her leotard down to her waist and, with her naked breasts proud and pouting, returned to the melee for more of the same.

I had taken off my vest by now. So after fondling her breasts some more I then pulled her close to me and felt the tracks of her nipples across my chest as she rubbed her breasts against me. Then she pulled away again, eased off the sofa and stood with her back to me while she stepped delicately out of her leotard and tossed it onto my lap. I picked it up and a wonderful mixed aroma of her perfume and her pussy caressed my nostrils and enchanted my senses. Her dark hair looked gorgeous against the pale skin of her shoulders as she looked back over her shoulder, giving me a 'come and get me' look.

I stepped up behind her and, as she lifted up her arms and reached back to massage my hair and scalp, fondled her breasts again while I buried my face in her hair, soft and smelling warm and spicy, to kiss her neck, and pushed my erection, bulging inside my shorts, as closely as I could into the cleft of her bottom. She eased out of my hands again, bent over, showing her beautiful rounded bottom again to my delighted gaze, and reached down to pull up on her black fishnet tights just above her white ankle socks, which revealed her tights to be footless. She carefully peeled off her fishnets over each of her white plimsolls in turn, straightened up, tossed her tights in best striptease fashion onto the sofa, and turned around to face me, now dressed only in her tiny black satin panties and her white plimsolls and ankle socks. In the meantime I had taken off my shorts so now my swollen prick was only partly covered by my briefs.

With a breathy gasp of, "Oh you gorgeous man!", Lorna knelt down in front of me, pulled down my pants to make my stiff and swollen prick spring up as she squealed with pleasure and, when I had stepped out of them, she really showed me what she could do. She had a fantastic technique which kept me gasping with pleasure from start to finish. First she took hold of my prick with thumb and fingertips of both hands and traced the lines of the swollen blood vessels down my shaft as, with the tip of her tongue, she licked my bulbous, glistening head clean of my pre-cum and licked right into my open hole as more leaked out.

Then I felt her velvety smooth lips on my hypersensitively tingling head as she drew it around her lips like a lipstick. With her rosebud lips pursed around it, she then sucked my head as if it were an ice cream, making little contended sighs as she did so whilst constantly stroking the whole length of my tingling shaft. She gradually swallowed more and more of it until I could feel my head right in her throat. I was amazed she could do it without gagging. Now breathing heavily through her nose she massaged my hot, swollen prick with her lips and tongue as she moved her head rhythmically back and forth until with a moaning cry of "Lorna you're fantastic!" I exploded my ejaculation in her mouth. As she swallowed each squirt of my cum, I felt each movement of her throat through my pulsating, throbbing prick. She made "Mmm! Mmm!" noises as if she were gagged again and memories of that previous time stoked my orgasm even more.

She pulled her mouth away from my still dribbling prick and pulled me down to my knees and kissed me so I could taste myself on her lips and tongue. Then, trembling in her own excitement, she stood up and, while placing my hands on the sides of her tiny black satin panties, she pushed her soaking crotch into my face and rubbed herself up and down over my nose and mouth. The warm, salty taste and aroma of her pussy juice inflamed me again and I pulled her panties down for more. She skipped daintily out of her panties with her pretty plimsolled feet pointing ballerina-like and I took one look at her fabulous cunt, wide open, lusciously, swollenly pink and soaked in her juices, before sinking my tongue into it. "Oh Steve you animal!" she squealed and pushed my face into her even more. After several gasps she pulled back, took the first two fingers of my right hand in her left hand, and guided them into her opening.

She placed my fingertips each side of her clit and for a moment I very gently stroked and played with her tiny shaft, which made her whole body tremble with delight. She had reached her loud, purring she-cat stage by now. Then with breathy instructions through her purring she directed my fingers across the velvet-smooth lining of her pussy to her G-spot, while I cupped the gorgeously warm curve of her mound in my palm and stroked her bottom with my free hand. After showing me where and how to stroke, she trembled with increasing intensity and purred louder until she growled lioness-like as she approached her orgasm.

Then, as I knew she would, she froze for a second, before climaxing with three piercing shrieks and a long, low moan. In her ecstasy she clamped onto my fingers and drenched them in her juices. She released her grip and with a cry of, "Taste me, Darling!" held my fingers in front of my mouth for me to lick her warm saltiness again while she sank to her knees beside me to share the pleasure. Then we collapsed to the floor, wrapped tightly in each other's arms and kissing madly with wide open mouths and our tongues sliding across each other enjoying our combined flavours.

After a few minutes of gentler stroking, kissing and sighing, we took it in turns to wash each other. Lorna giggled ticklishly as I dried her crotch with a warm, soft towel. I noticed how quickly her mound was disappearing under her thick black hair again.

"When I started shaving it, it would take about 6 weeks to grow back," she told me, "Now it only takes 4 weeks and I look forward all month to shaving it off again. It's such a turn-on for me, as you know" – we laughed together – "I call it my Nice Time of the Month."

"We can shave each other every month," I said, kissing her where she was now dry and warm.

"That would be lovely!" she said, stroking my own re-growing hair.

**********
 
Re: An old story I hope you like

Chapter 2, Part 1 (3rd part)

We ate a delicious cold chicken salad with a glass of white wine whilst sitting at her kitchen table, still naked in our white plimsolls and ankle socks, blending in with the kitchen décor as if we ourselves were some new kind of white goods. Then we finished our wine whilst curled around each other on the sofa, our legs hanging over the end in a tangle of plimsolled feet flexing and nudging together as we talked more about our first meeting.

"Why did you want to do it?" I asked her.

"I come from a family of competitive high achievers," she began, "I realised that the reason I kept having lousy relationships with men was because I wanted to be in control all the time. Then I realised that the reason I had this fantasy about being kidnapped and tied up and gagged and all the rest of it was because deep down I wanted to experience being completely helpless and relying on someone else to take care of me. You did that for me Steve and it was wonderful and it was why I wanted to see you again." She gave me a long, open mouthed kiss.

"There wasn't that much I could do for you, given the state we were in," I smiled, stroking her hair.

"The point is, Darling," she continued, "is that you gave me everything you had to give of yourself that you were able to give, when I really needed it. I love you so much for that." We kissed even more passionately.

"How did you get to be there that night?" I asked. She told me her story.

"I met Julia, she was Number 3 if you remember, in a wine bar and I told her everything I've told you. I knew her already from the gym where I work out so I felt I could trust her. Anyway, she put this amazing proposition to me and it even though it sounded so kinky and perverted at first, it touched something deep inside me and it all sort of made sense, so I said yes."

"Do you want to tell me how Julia 'kidnapped' you?" I asked.

"She met me outside the wine bar and took me to a van. We waited for a couple of minutes until she got a phone call."

I told her it had come from Rick. She continued.

"Then she made me get into the back and lie with my face down on the floor while she gagged me then tied me up. I felt scared then, but really turned on at the same time. I kept having to draw my knees up to hide the damp patch between my legs. When we got to the place, she blindfolded me and carried me inside over her shoulder. You saw how strong she is. When she took the blindfold off me, I was in the big room and a few minutes later you arrived. How did you get roped in?"

We both laughed and I told her all about my dealings with Rick.

"What did you think when you first saw me?" she asked, smiling and slightly inclining her head.

I kissed her and smiled at her.

"Just for a second at first I was worried that they'd kidnapped you for real. But then I thought you looked pretty fit, even though you were dressed like you'd just come out of the office." She pinched me as she replied.

"If it had been summer you would have seen me tied up and gagged in my gym kit, which would have given you a much better impression no doubt. Anyway, when I saw you I thought, 'Thank goodness they got somebody good looking. I just hope he isn't a total pervert'". We laughed again and then she asked, "What were you looking for Steve?"

I suddenly realised that I hadn't yet got to the heart of my motivation. It sounds silly now, but I didn't want to admit to her then that I didn't have a proper answer for such an important question, so I covered up with humour.

"At first I guess I was a total pervert who just wanted a really fantastic, kinky fuck with some perverted nymphomaniac with an imagination as twisted as mine."

"I'm sorry I disappointed you on that one," she laughed and seemed satisfied with my answer.

I hoped for another chance to talk to her about it when I had sorted it out in my mind. I went on more confidently onto surer ground.

"But then I found myself liking you more and more. You were fabulous when you did that little naked dance for me in your ankle socks and plimsolls. You were really generous and brave to do that for me and it made me like you a lot."

"I could see you really liked my feet in my plimsolls so I thought, 'Why not give him something to enjoy instead of just expecting him to give me everything I want.' I felt good when I did it and it helped me forget myself for a moment."

After holding her close for a moment I continued.

"By the time they were putting me on to you I realised I didn't just want to stick my prick into you for a good shag, I wanted to make love to you with my eyes as well. I wished you hadn't wanted to be blindfolded, although I understood it was part of your own fantasy."

Lorna's eyes started to glisten as her voice faltered.

"I'm so sorry Steve. You were so lovely to think of me that way. I did it because I felt I needed to be in a state of complete helplessness for it to work for me. I even nearly asked Julia for my ears to be blocked up as well. I'm glad I didn't because the noises we were making really turned me on and, because I couldn't move at all or see anything, I needed all the stimulation I could get so I could orgasm. Was fucking me tied up and gagged as much of a turn on as you imagined?"

"It was fun and frustrating at the same time," I replied, "I wanted to take that really sexy bra you wearing off you and fondle your tits and suck your nipples and I wanted to stroke your feet and ankles after you'd put your ankles socks and plimsolls on and I wanted to lick your cunt and taste your pussy juices and I wanted to hold you tight and stroke your hair and tell you how beautiful you are."

We kissed long and lovingly. Then her response almost made me wet myself with pleasure.

"And I wanted to stroke and suck your big dick and taste your cum and fondle your cute arse and wrap my legs around you and put my feet on your arse to push you into me even more – I can do that you know – and run my hands down your back and tell you all about the lovely feelings you were giving me inside with your big swollen dick and tell you what a wonderful lover you are."

After another passionate embrace on the sofa, Lorna suddenly sat up and remembered the other reason why I was here.

"Now Irina made me promise faithfully that I would turn you into a proper Czech ballerina. So first you need to see how an expert does it. I'll be back in a few minutes." She got up and ran to her bedroom, her white plimsolls flashing with her little skipping steps, and closed the door behind her. While I waited I listened to her humming and la-la'ing along in her clear, bright and tuneful soprano to a ballet music CD.

**********

A few minutes later she emerged from the cocoon of her bedroom transformed like a beautiful white butterfly by a lovely white tutu with pink trimmings and a little lacy skirt that showed to perfection the lovely line of her long and slender legs sheathed and gorgeously moulded in her white ballet tights. Her perfect little feet looked gorgeous in pure white satin ballet shoes with the ribbons tied perfectly around her incredibly sexy ankles. She had piled her hair on top of her head with a pink rosebud garland around it, letting a twist of dark hair frame her perfectly made-up face on each side.

She tiptoed into the sitting room with tiny rapid steps then improvised a little dance for me with turns and twirls and hops and jumps, with her graceful hands and arms making constantly flowing and changing movements. Finally she balanced on the flat of one ballet shoed foot, extended her other leg towards me and rested the very tip of her pointed and arched foot on my bare abdomen. I enjoyed the fabulous sensation of stroking her foot through the smooth white satin of her ballet shoe and her ankle through the sheer whiteness of her ballet tights. Then she took a good long look at me.

"You've got nice round features and high cheek bones and not much body hair. I'm sure I can make you into a beautiful ballerina too." She took my hand, "You can come into my bedroom now."

Her light and airy bedroom was another evocation to ballet. Several pairs of different coloured ballet shoes tied together by their ribbons hung on the wall over her bed. A section of her walk-in wardrobe contained her other ballet costumes plus neat piles of leotards, tights and leg warmers in different colours. Her pairs of ballet shoes, all with ribbons neatly folded inside them, were lined up along with her pairs of ballet slippers in soft leather or canvas. She also had lots of pairs of ballet-style fashion shoes. Her white plimsolls had been neatly put away too. Sitting in pride of place in a large, high backed wicker chair in the corner of the room was Lizzie-Jane, Lorna's ballerina rag doll.

"I'll bring Big Ted next time. They'll make a good couple," I said.

She laughed as she hugged me, then we laid out my stuff on her bed.

I began my transformation by putting on tiny, tight white briefs. Then I pulled and rolled on a pair of white ballet tights and enjoyed how they moulded my legs into an attractively smooth-flowing shape. Then I stepped into my white tutu and Lorna tightened and tied the laces running up the back and tied the little decorative bow just above my skirt. Then I sat on the floor with Lorna sitting beside me as I enjoyed the fabulous feeling of slipping my white satin ballet shoes onto my feet sheathed in the white Lycra silk of my ballet tights and then carefully tying the white satin ribbons around my ankles the way Irina had showed me. Lorna was impressed.

"You remembered that really well," she said admiringly. Then she sat me at her dressing table and with great skill and artistry transformed my face with pale white foundation, bright scarlet lipstick with a lip gloss finish, pale pink rouge, lusciously thick black mascara, softer black eyebrow pencil and subtly pale blue eye shadow. She fixed my Czech ballerina blonde wig and tied the hair back into a neat ballet bun, then fixed my little diamante tiara. A set of scarlet false nails fixed to my own completed my transformation.

"Wow, I'm gorgeous!" I exclaimed.

"I'll call you Donna Tripova," she giggled.

Lorna showed me how to walk in my ballet shoes like a real ballerina and we processed to her other bedroom, which doubled as her studio. We had a wonderful time as, with lots of encouraging comments and kisses and guiding touches from her beautiful hands on my hands, waist and feet, she showed me some simple ballet movements and steps. I told her I wanted to go with her to her ballet class and, however long it would take, learn to dance on my toes. With a delighted cry of, "Oh Steve, That's wonderful!" she sprang up onto the points of her ballet shoes and threw her pale, slender arms around me and kissed me while I enfolded her slim waist, now looking tiny within the tight confines of her tutu bodice, and our tutu skirts rustled and folded together.

"Mind you," I said in a mock-butch voice, "You'll have to come with me to football as well."

"You'll have to teach me the offside rule first," she laughed.

We took lots of pictures of us together and singly as we posed standing at her practice barre or sitting on a stool or on the floor. We were wondering what to do next when I had a thought.

"Lorna, did you come back with a bag of stuff the other night?"

"Oh yes!" she exclaimed gleefully as she understood my intent, "You can do me first if you like."

It was an incredibly turning-on experience to tie her up and gag her and then photograph her tied up and gagged in her tutu, tights and ballet shoes, knowing it was exactly what she wanted, and then have her do the same to me. We repeated the exercise several times as in stages we removed more of our costumes and our make-up for topless and nude photos. For one sequence we took off our ballet shoes and put our white plimsolls and ankle socks back on. Then Lorna tied me up and gagged me again and walked up and down on my back, which was something I'd really wanted her to do. The feel of the weight of her small, lithe body bearing down on me through the rubber soles of her plimsolls was fantastic. We took a sequence of photos of her standing on my back whilst demonstrating the five basic ballet positions.

She insisted I do the same to her, reassuring me several times over that she would be able to bear my weight on her back. So I stood very carefully on her bound, supine body, now looking ever so small and slender and fragile as I looked down on her, taking special bare not to tread on her arms or her hands tied behind her. Then when I finally rested one plimsolled foot on the small of her back and my other foot across her buttocks, she tightened up and made the most gorgeous purring sound through her gag before relaxing again.

My favourite photos of myself were of me lying bound and gagged and naked in my ballet shoes with a huge erection, while Lorna, also naked, stood on and pointed at various bits of me with her ballet shoed feet. Lizzie-Jane was usurped from her chair while I photographed Lorna sitting naked in it, the soft curves of her body complemented by the smooth textured curves of the chair as she artistically posed and pointed her ballet shoed feet. But my favourite picture of her was of her sitting naked on the floor and leaning back against the chair, her spread out legs and the touching tips of her ballet shoes making a sensuous triangle in front her, completely absorbed as she explored her wide open cunt. After I had taken this picture she looked directly at me with a pleading look in her eyes.

"Fuck me Steve. Please. Make love with me now."

**********

I picked her up and she relaxed in my arms as she put her own around my neck. I carried her to her bedroom and laid her on her bed. She stretched out to her full length and started to mew like a kitten as I fondled her breasts and played with her swollen nipples and then stroked her mound and kissed her warm wetness between her spread legs. Then as I kneeled up on the bed in front of her she played with my huge erect prick and my swollen balls with the tip of her ballet shoed foot, making my erection sway like a strange and wonderful coral-dwelling sea creature caught in a tropical ocean current.

Then she spread her legs right out to the sides in splits fashion, displaying her lusciously pink and juicy cunt in all its glory as I approached her and slowly sunk myself into it. We grunted and purred as I eased into the rhythm that we had enjoyed so much before. But this time it was so much better as we could enjoy each other to the full. I felt her face on either side through her gorgeous hair and kissed her lovely rosebud mouth as hard as I could as I buried my tongue in her hot, lusciously sweet mouth and my groin ached with pleasure at the similar feeling my pulsating prick was getting within her pussy's hot, slickly wet and velvety smooth embrace.

Then I changed up a gear to the rhythm which I knew would bring her to orgasm and our bodies heaved up and down together as they strained for ever more air in their exertions. Meanwhile she bent her legs back to rub the soles of her ballet shoed feet on the backs of my legs, which inflamed my passion even more. She stroked my hair and fondled my buttocks and tongued my mouth in her turn. Then she pulled her mouth away to cry out to me.

"Oh my darling!...You gorgeous lion!...I'm tingling all over!... "Fuck me senseless you beast!"

At this, she put her ballet-shoed feet on my buttocks and pushed down on them while she moved her legs back and forth. The sensation of feeling the soles of her ballet shoes massaging my arse shot me over the top and I came with a great gasp and a deep surging feeling in my swollen, throbbing prick. At almost the same second she tensed and then screamed as her orgasm welled up from deep inside her, so that as my prick pumped her pussy full of my cum it was also being squeezed and soaked in her juices in our mingling ecstasies.

After some more heavy panting we kissed and stroked and held each other in gentle afterplay, my prick resting content in her pussy's contended embrace while our bodies came down from the heights. Then I withdrew from her and as she lay stretched on the bed watching her nipples soften and her cunt close contentedly, I fetched a warm soapy flannel and a soft warm towel to wash her. She still had strength to giggle as I gently dried her crotch. We ended the evening stretched out on her sitting room floor resting against her sofa, our legs tangled together, with our feet, still in our white ballet shoes, teasing each other, while, with a glass of fine cognac each and with lots of flirtatious comments, nudges, tickles and kisses, we looked at all our photos on her plasma TV.

Settling down to sleep in Lorna's bed was a wonderfully sensual experience in itself. I sank down into the soft mattress and drew the soft warm folds of her duvet, which smelled sweetly of soft ripe fruit, over me. For the first time, I enjoyed the sensation of my bare feet on her naked feet and legs and the exquisite feeling of hers on mine. I absorbed and breathed in her delicious warmth as we snuggled up and wrapped our arms around each other and with a final kiss we closed our eyes, watched over by Lizzie-Jane's sweet and innocent gaze.

I woke in the darkness of the small hours into a semi-conscious state. My hand drifted downwards and I realised I was erect. I looked at Lorna. Her eyelids fluttered gently as her breath drifted almost silently through her slightly parted lips pouting in her dreaming. Her pale, beautiful face was framed by her dark hair strewn around her pillow and framed again by her arm lying as if arranged around her head. Her other arm lay across the soft, smooth expanse of her flat stomach and they rose and fell together with her breasts with each easy breath. As I moved to kiss her, my hand brushed against her breast. She murmured and her mouth opened a little more and she languidly parted her legs. I eased myself on top of her and with a few slow movements brought a deep contented sigh from her. A few more movements and I was sighing too with a long, slow release before I slid back down next to her again. She had remained asleep the whole time and now smiled dreamily in her nocturnal fantasy world.

As I drifted back to sleep again with her hand in mine, I thought briefly of Rick and Julia and silently thanked them for helping Lorna and I to find all that we now enjoyed in each other. I hoped they were as happy as I was now. Maybe they were more than just business associates. I blew a kiss to Lizzie-Jane, her gaze still sweet but now not quite so innocent, and, with the morning to look forward to, closed my eyes.

[End of Chapter 2, Part 1]
 
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