Ruth Restrained

by Krys Antarakis

  ‘I’d be surprised if I was,’ Ruth answered him truthfully.

  He nodded towards her skirt, which was still bunched up around her hips. ‘You’ll need to tidy up.’

  ‘Perhaps I could take an early lunch?’ she asked sweetly.

  ‘Of course, my dear, and take your time.’

  Ruth drove the short distance to her flat and enjoyed a leisurely shower, letting the warm water cascade over her skin while she reviewed the morning’s events. An enormous change had taken place inside her. Meeting Elsa had revived the fun loving, adventurous side of her nature, but it had also unleashed an aspect of her sexuality that was bewildering. She had never been a shrinking violet, but overall her sex life had been fairly conventional.

  Now suddenly her sexual appetite was hovering on the insatiable, and twice within twenty-four hours she had abandoned conventions that had helped her sustain a productive professional relationship with her boss and mentor.

  Then there was the way she had behaved with Stanford. Thinking about it, she could hardly believe the extent of her lasciviousness.

  Stepping out of the shower she reached for a towel and thoughtfully dried herself off. She was bewildered but not alarmed. She had enjoyed herself too much lately to regret anything she had done, and the prospect of more daring episodes excited her.

  Even now, after a calming interlude, her heart was pounding and the lovely tingling sensation between her thighs seemed to be spreading through her whole body. As she dried her leg she fingered the ankle bracelet. Its symbolism was strong, arousing her all the more, and as a concession to her mood she decided not to dress until she had eaten. Roaming the flat naked was just the sort of stimulus she craved right now.

  Neat and tidy in fresh clothes, Ruth returned to work. Taking the bull by the horns she went straight to Janet’s office, and the woman looked up at her with an almost pleased expression. Ruth liked Janet. She was approximately her mother’s age, and pretty open-minded about most things. She was easy to talk to, and she had been a good source of advice over the years. But this afternoon Ruth felt uneasy in the older woman’s presence. But it was more than conventional embarrassment at being discovered in flagrante delicto; being watched had actually proved to be a potent turn-on.

  ‘About this morning,’ Ruth began hesitantly. ‘If what you saw shocked you, I apologise. The truth is—’

  ‘Say no more.’ Janet held up a hand. ‘I was at fault. I should have knocked. I was surprised, however. It was the last thing I expected to see. Mr Stone has had his moments over the years, but he’s never been so careless before. Yet I wasn’t offended. After all, you were only behaving naturally. I enjoy sex too, you know. As I said, it was the unexpectedness of it that shook me.’

  ‘You don’t think it’s wrong then for Lewis and I to have sex?’

  ‘It would only be wrong if he coerced you into it, and I assume he didn’t since you were so obviously enjoying yourself.’

  ‘Actually, I think I encouraged him,’ Ruth confessed.

  ‘Well, no harm done, in fact, it’s probably a good thing. Mr Stone has been quite lonely since Juliette went to New York. He needs someone young and active in his life. Good luck to you, Ruth.’

  ‘Is he in now?’

  Janet smiled knowingly. ‘I’m sorry to say he’s out visiting a client all afternoon. I can give you his home number if you want to try him this evening.’

  ‘No, I’ve got a date for this evening, but thank you.’

  The evening proved to be a sterile disappointment. Ruth was highly aroused and eager for sex, but Stanford was preoccupied and distant. The reception at the country club was boringly predictable, and on the way home Stanford asked her to accompany him to a vintage car show on Sunday. When she declined he became peevish, and in her flat, while they were making tepid love, he noticed her anklet and grew oddly agitated.

  ‘Take it off,’ he ordered, ‘it makes you look cheap.’

  ‘No, I won’t take it off, and I might get a tattoo next week, too.’ She had no such intention, but the effect of the mock threat on Stanford was enlightening. He became hostile, called her names, and stormed out of the flat.

  She went to bed feeling increasingly confused. She liked Stanford, but what he represented was frighteningly conventional and superficial when she compared it to her wild craving for exciting and challenging sex.

  Chapter 3

  Ruth spent Friday morning in a state of nervous arousal. Stanford’s angry departure had left her frustrated, so her expectations of the coming weekend were high. But with no further message from Elsa, and the non-appearance of the promised parcel, she was experiencing severe sexual starvation in the interim. In an effort to stem her yearnings she tried constructing fantasies, but they only served to stoke her libido even more painfully. Her body was in turmoil, throbbing with a need she could not relieve.

  A further trial was Lewis’s absence from the office. He was visiting a distant client, and her only contact with him was an e-mail he sent her confirming their meeting on Monday.

  By midday Ruth was near to bursting with frustration, and she treated her co-worker, Gavin, to a torrent of well-deserved scorn when he made some fatuous remark about PMT. Her tirade was interrupted by reception ringing to announce the arrival of a parcel. She hurried down to the foyer, where she found a well-wrapped package with a transparent pouch glued to the outside. She tore the pouch open, and extracted a handwritten note along with a sealed envelope. She quickly read the note.

  Looking forward to a really wicked weekend. Use this ticket, and we will meet you at York. Wear only these clothes, nothing else, and bring only your purse, we will supply everything else you will need. But only come if you are prepared for anything – and we mean anything.

  Ruth’s heart seemed to skip a beat, her mouth went dry, and she tore open the envelope with trembling fingers. Inside was a rail ticket for the teatime departure from King’s Cross. She examined the parcel. Curiosity battled with caution and she was desperate to look inside, but she decided not to open it until she was in the privacy of her flat. Carrying it as though it might explode in her hands, she returned to her desk.

  Gavin, unabashed, leered across the aisle at her. ‘Present from an admirer?’ he said.

  ‘Just a new bra – get your own if you’re jealous,’ she retorted, and hurriedly cleared her desk. She had booked a half-day’s leave for an appointment at Margaret’s salon, including a manicure, a pedicure and a leg waxing, in anticipation of what promised to be a very special weekend.

  Time was running short when Ruth reached her flat after her relaxing afternoon in the salon. In unseemly haste she tore open the mysterious package. Inside a cardboard box she found a pair of black high-heeled shoes and some folded black leather. She quickly shook it open and discovered two items – a zip-fronted jerkin and a tiny skirt. At the bottom of the box lay a minuscule black lace thong. Uncertain whether to laugh or cry, she held the skirt against her body. It was outrageously brief, and her excitement vied with embarrassment as she glanced at the clock. Time was not her ally. She had to decide right now.

  Reaching for the phone she booked a taxi. Then she scooped up the box and its contents and hurried into the bedroom.

  After a quick shower she slipped on the thong. It felt deliciously naughty, and she liked the way the string pressed against the sensitive ring of her anus. The skirt was indecently short, barely covering her bottom, and the zip on the jerkin exposed most of her deep cleavage. She squeezed her feet into the extremely high-heeled shoes, observing in the mirror how they accentuated her calves, bottom, and the thrust of her breasts.

  Stanford might well call her cheap now, because she certainly looked it, but a potent thrill made her shudder and hug herself as she glanced down at her ankle bracelet. Elsa’s conditions told her she should remove it, but she was reluctant to do so. It was symbolic, and served to bolster he
r decision to accept this terribly naughty challenge, so she left it on.

  At the station Ruth felt some of her self-consciousness slipping away. People intent on reaching home had only half an eye for a girl flaunting herself in tight leather. She received a few hostile glances from women, and some appreciative stares from men, but not as many as she had feared and expected. She blended into the rushing crowds, stepping carefully in her heels, feeling vulnerable and yet curiously serene and secure. The brevity of her costume gave her a buzz, and the fresh air flowing around her buttocks gave her the impression of walking naked. The jerkin was loose fitting, and her breasts swayed provocatively inside it.

  Once on the train it was a different matter. No matter how she sat, whether with her knees held tightly together or with her legs crossed she could not avoid exposing her thighs, and if she relaxed for just a moment she would also expose her crotch. Occupying an aisle seat as she was, everyone seemed to be staring at her. She wanted to curl up and slip under the seat, yet all the time a quiet internal voice kept repeating, they’re looking at a really pretty, sexy young lady. You’re beautiful and desirable. They all want to shag you.

  The train rolled into the soaring hall of York station just a few minutes late. Ruth stepped down onto the crowded platform, and joined the throng as it hurried towards the exit. There was no sign of Elsa.

  Reaching the footbridge she slowed down and started down the steps knowing her modesty depended on a fringe of leather, a string, and the cleverness of nature’s own design. She breathed a sigh of relief when she stepped off the far side, but beneath her outward calm she was feeling increasingly anxious.

  ‘Don’t look around,’ a familiar voice said from just behind her. ‘Keep walking and turn right when you reach the street.’

  Ruth’s heart leapt, but she obeyed. Beyond the exit she turned as directed, conscious of being closely followed.

  ‘Stop when you reach the litter bin,’ the voice instructed.

  Breathless with excitement, Ruth stopped and turned around. Elsa, wearing a pretty cotton shift, was right behind her, accompanied by a man with black wavy hair and deep dark eyes, whom she assumed was Morgan.

  ‘Take off your knickers and put them in the bin,’ Elsa ordered. ‘You’ll not be needing them again.’

  Ruth stared at her friend in mildly amused confusion. ‘Okay, stand in front of me, then.’

  Elsa laughed and looked at Morgan. ‘Just listen to her. I had such high hopes for her, too.’ She turned her attention back to Ruth. ‘Now, let’s get things straight. That wasn’t a suggestion. You came, so you agreed to follow the rules.’

  An icy shock clasped at Ruth’s heart. There was a harsh tone in Elsa’s voice that was new and unexpected. For a moment it frightened her, but her fermenting desires swamped her natural inclination to refuse the cold command. Feeling extremely vulnerable and exposed, she groped beneath the leather skirt and hooked her thumbs over the thin elastic of the thong’s flimsy concession to modesty. And on a public street, in full view of passing traffic, she pulled the thong off, letting it fall round her ankles so she could step out of it. A crowded bus drew to a stop, and faces stared through the windows at her. In the bright summer evening there was nothing she could do to conceal her actions. Her face felt cherry-red as, burning with embarrassment, she bent over, picked up the scrap of black leather, and tossed it casually into the litterbin.

  ‘Excellent,’ Morgan said. His voice was deep and richly resonant. ‘Now turn around and place your hands behind your back.’

  In a sort of trance, with her heart beating hard, Ruth did turn around and she did put her hands behind her back. Then she immediately felt him take hold of her wrists, and cross them. Then she heard the tearing sound of Velcro, and felt a strong, flexible band enclose her wrists. Within seconds she was firmly bound.

  Morgan spun her around again and raised an arm towards the street. In response an elderly black cab with darkened windows came sliding through the traffic, and he opened one of the doors.

  Elsa climbed in, signalling for Ruth to follow her. ‘Kneel on the floor and rest your chest on the seat,’ she instructed as Morgan joined them inside and the cab moved off while Ruth struggled to comply. ‘Push your bottom up and spread your legs,’ Elsa elaborated, pulling up her friend’s miniscule skirt. ‘Well, Morgan, is she as pretty as I said? See how sweetly her inner lips peep out between her thighs, just like a ripe bud.’

  ‘She is beautiful,’ he agreed. ‘What do you think, Cooper?’

  ‘Looks bloody wonderful from here,’ the driver responded.

  ‘What a shame we tied her hands,’ Elsa mused. ‘It would be so nice to have her pull her cheeks open to expose her little rear entrance for us.’

  ‘Well, we’ll just have to do it for her,’ Morgan said.

  Ruth felt hands groping her buttocks. She clenched, resisting, but a sharp slap across one of her bottom cheeks changed her mind. A firm finger, Elsa’s judging by the prominent nail, stroked the tender entrance to her anus.

  ‘What do you think of that, Cooper?’ Elsa prompted.

  ‘Magnificent,’ came the gruff response. ‘I’m ready to bugger it right now.’

  ‘I don’t remember Ruth ever being buggered, but things can change,’ Elsa mused. ‘Have you ever been penetrated here before, Ruth?’ she asked, lightly tapping the kneeling girl’s little rose with the tip of a finger.

  ‘No, never,’ Ruth gasped.

  ‘How wonderful, a virgin bottom,’ Elsa declared. ‘We shall have to give the matter great consideration.’

  ‘In the meantime, there are plenty of other areas to explore,’ Morgan commented, and as he spoke Ruth felt strong fingers parting her labia and teasing her inner lips before they slid up into her pussy. She could hardly contain herself then, and was sure the mere brush of his thumb against her clitoris would plunge her into a cataclysmic orgasm. Nothing she had ever experienced had brought her so close to the brink so rapidly.

  ‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘I need to come. Make me come, please.’ Her voice, muffled against the seat, nevertheless sounded strangely loud to her in the confines of the cab, and her disgraceful plea incredibly sluttish.

  ‘All in good time, little pet,’ Morgan said in his deep, soothing voice. ‘She has very little self-control,’ he observed.

  ‘She’ll learn control in time.’ Elsa stroked her friend’s hair. ‘But for now, enjoy being played with,’ she urged.

  Ruth felt her face burning with shame. Her pussy was throbbing with need, and she squirmed as Morgan’s fingers probed her innermost secrets while another finger, Elsa’s, pressed more insistently against her anus.

  ‘Push back on me, my pet,’ Morgan said quietly, ‘and make it easy for her.’

  Ruth pushed back against the probing digit, and felt it slip a little into her tight bottom. There was a moment of delicious discomfort, and then the lovely sensation of being filled as Elsa’s finger thrust through her ring, and slid all the way up into her rear passage. She twisted her hips from side-to-side and kept pushing back, drinking deeply from the pleasure of this most intimate intrusion as she felt the cab make a sharp turn, and proceed down a stony path before suddenly coming to a halt. The engine died away, all the fingers slipped disappointingly out of her, and she felt abandoned, discarded. Suddenly she just wanted to cry.

  ‘Get out,’ Morgan commanded.

  Ruth scrambled out of the cab, her dignity discarded along with the thong.

  An ancient stone farmhouse occupied one side of the cobbled courtyard, a barn the other.

  ‘Time to pay Mr Cooper his fare,’ Elsa told her.

  Ruth looked at her blankly while Morgan released her bonds, and then she took stock of Cooper as she flexed her wrists. The driver’s appearance did not match his voice; he was younger than she had imagined and tall, with a muscular frame accustomed to manual labour. He had large
hands and powerful arms, and his narrow features were made quite attractive by a pleasant smile.

  ‘Let’s see the colour of her,’ he said, reaching for her jerkin. The zip came down and he peeled it off her, handing it to Elsa. His eyes lingered briefly on Ruth’s firm nipples, and then he reached for her skirt, his stout fingers surprisingly nimble on the delicate fastening. The strip of leather fell around her ankles.

  ‘Part your legs and make him welcome,’ Elsa prompted.

  Ruth stepped out of the crumpled leather, distancing herself from him, her heart racing, and she was filled with apprehension as she opened her legs a little. None of her fantasies had been as stark as this cold, casual reality.

  Cooper’s smile deepened sardonically as he cupped her pussy in one large hand, stroking her vulva before he probed into her labia, pressing his thumb against her clitoris as he thrust a demanding finger inside her.

  Ruth fought to control her response, knowing she ought not to climax so quickly, but the battle was a hard one as his finger moved in and out of her like a cock. She cruised dangerously close to an orgasm as his skilled digit worked her while his other hand reached for her breast and his thumb strummed her nipple, sending waves of barely containable pleasure surging through her body. She gasped with joy and stress, struggling against her lascivious inclinations.

  ‘This is the one I told you about, Cooper,’ Elsa said, ‘the one who peed for a crowd of men outside a transport café.’

  His face lit up. ‘So, you’re an exhibitionist as well, huh?’

  ‘Y-yes,’ Ruth stammered quietly, feeling ashamed to admit it, to him or to herself.

  ‘Would you like to take her here, in the barn, or indoors?’ Elsa asked, matter-of-factly.