by Ella Ford
“But that’s… you can’t…” Elise stammered, her eyes flicking around the room as she struggled to confront the strange reality that she now found herself in.
“Can’t what?” I asked, leaning my head to one side and keeping my voice low and calm.
“You can’t just own someone. Have you kidnapped them?” she demanded. “Are you kidnapping me?” she added, her voice becoming shrill and high. It was time to calm her down.
“Elise!” I snapped and her head flicked around to face me, her mouth hanging open. “None of these girls are here against their will, they are all here because they want to be. I own them because they want to be owned.”
Elise shook her head, but the fight was going out of her. “But you can’t… why would…”
I raised my hand and she fell silent. Then I turned to face my collection. “Girls. You are free to leave. I relinquish my hold over you, there will be no recrimination or attempt to retrieve you. You simply need to walk through those doors and collect your belongings. I wish you well.”
I turn back to Elise to study her reaction. Around me, none of the girls moved. The room fell into a perfect, eerie silence. The six doll-like women remained statue-still, gazing off into the distance. After a minute, I spoke again. “Do you see Elise?”
Elise blinked twice and looked around. “I…” she started, but didn’t finish her thought. She appeared deep in concentration.
I stepped towards her and lightly gripped her upper arm, noting the slight tremble that ran through her body. “Come, let’s return to the living room. I wish to continue your tour. I think you’ll enjoy the next part,” I said, offering a reassuring smile.
Elise nodded numbly and turned to the doors. As we walked across the room, I snapped my fingers. Behind us, Christa and Beth stirred into life and stepped down from their plinths, hurrying across the room behind us, their stiletto heels clicking on the hardwood floor of the viewing room. The remaining four girls continued their frozen vigils.
Before
I wasn’t always so confident and self-assured. On that night in Vegas, so long ago, I began to suffer an attack of self doubt the moment my hotel room door closed behind me. My behavior had been out of character and unusually rash. I was normally so calm and measured. Inviting the girl back to my room was a glorious whim, but it now seemed insanely distant and impossibly risky. I didn’t know anything about the girl, other than that she’d seemed lost and vulnerable among her brash colleagues. For some reason that I didn’t yet understand, that appealed to me more than anything else.
Had I really invited her back to my room? The note read more like an order than an invitation. What if she didn’t come? What happens if the girl reported me to hotel security? What happens if she told her colleagues? Oh God, what had I done?
I sat on the edge of the bed in the spacious hotel suite and stared at the floor. I felt light headed and panicked. My initial fears centered around the girl ignoring my advance, or shaming me somehow. But as the creeping advance of my dread percolated through my mind, I began to entertain a new concern, one that troubled me far more than those that had preceded it. What happens if she did come to my room?
I sighed and leaned forward, hanging my head between my legs in an attempt to dismiss the dizzying panic in my brain.
I’d never been with a woman! I’d never had any thoughts like that before! I’d only ever been with Jeremy, and was never what anyone would call a sexual person. And now, here I was, inviting random girls back to my room.
I sat back on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling, attempting to catch my breath. Oh, I knew what women did together. I’d found Jeremy’s stash of pornography - hidden in a shoebox deep in his closest, an amateurish attempt at concealment at best. I’d tentatively loaded the DVDs and thumbed through the glossy magazines. I’d dismissed what I’d seen then as another Jeremy-thing, something gross and not surprising. But as I thought back to the exaggerated moans and dueling tongues, I wondered if I could ever do those things?
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. A light tap, two times. I sat up straight and looked at the bedside clock. It had only been ten minutes since I left the bar, maybe it wasn’t her? I remained perfectly still and entertained the notion of ignoring it and hoping the whole thing would go away. I’d get a flight home tomorrow and get back to my life of spending and extravagance.
That line of thinking dissipated in an instant when three more taps on the door interrupted the silence of the room. I sighed and stood up, feeling out of control of my body as I walked across the suite to the entrance.
As I approached the door, I leaned forwards to peer through the spyhole. I gasped when I saw the girl outside. She appeared agitated, glancing up and down the hall and blinking rapidly. I sensed that she was on the verge of turning and fleeing down the corridor as quickly as she possibly could. In that instant, I realized that no matter how nervous and apprehensive I felt, the girl was doubly so. To my surprise, this realization calmed me some. And something else… I felt a surge of power and control, a strange, out-of-place urge that emanated from my core and spread out into my whole body with tendrils of warmth.
Before I knew it, I was reaching down and turning the handle. The latch clicked open and I pulled the door towards me.
The girl on the other side looked as surprised as I felt. She gasped and looked down at my shoes. “I-I got your note… I… Is this some kind of j-joke?” Her voice was quiet and soft, with a trace of a southern accent in it. I wondered briefly where she was from, before realizing that I didn’t really care.
I leaned my head to one side and studied her, attempting to calm my own nerves and resolving to enjoy this strange situation I found myself in. “No, it’s not a joke. Please come in,” I said and stepped to one side, allowing the girl to brush past me. As she entered, I caught her scent - light perfume with hints of soap, a smell that was fresh and virginal. I felt a wild rush spread through my body, a glowing warmth that ignited in my loins, seeming at the same time familiar and novel.
The girl stepped nervously into the room, clutching her purse before her as if to ward off any threat. She was wearing a simple white blouse and black pencil skirt, with tan pantyhose and low heeled black pumps. She looked smart but ordinary.
I walked behind her as she gazed around the large suite. “It’s bigger than my room Miss…”
“My name is Claudia Ross,” I finished for her. “You can call me Miss Ross,” I added on a whim.
“Yes, M-Miss Ross,” replied the girl.
I stepped around her and walked confidently over to the cabinet at the side of the room. In my heels I towered over the young girl, creating a natural power dynamic between us that felt right to me. “Would you like a drink?” I offered, then added, “I didn’t catch your name?”
The girl turned to follow me, lowering her purse and dropping it on the chaise lounge. “N-no, thank you, I’m okay. M-my name is Elizabeth…”
I turned to face her and leaned backwards against the cabinet, my eyes running up and down the girl who stood before me. I was struck by my boldness, the way I’d instantly fallen into this role, the way I’d commanded the situation and established our collective parts in this sordid play. I found myself enjoying how this made me feel, the feeling of control and dominance, the sight of Elizabeth’s nervous capitulation.
“I’m going to call you Beth. Do you mind?”
“No, M-Miss Ross,” replied the girl, staring at the floor. She lifted her head and looked at me pleadingly. “I-I’ve never done anything like this before,” she offered, apologetically.
“What do you mean?” I asked, pouring myself a scotch and sipping on the burning liquor as I studied her.
“This…” she gestured around the room. “I don’t normally… I’ve never been…”
“With a woman?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“N-no,” she breathed and returned her gaze to my shoes.
“Why did you come here Beth?”
She looked up at me and a puzzled expression crossed her face. “Because… because you told me to. The note… Oh God, did I get it wrong? I can leave… I just…” she flailed around and I feared that she might turn and flee.
“Do you normally do things that people ask you to do in bars Beth?” I asked with a wry smile. “Take off your blouse,” I added nonchalantly.
Beth’s hands lifted instantly to her blouse and began to unfasten the buttons with trembling fingers. She looked surprised, and I wondered if she was shocked by her own capitulation or by the question. “I don’t… It’s never happened before,” she said. Her fingers reached the final button and she looked at me, as if seeking approval. I nodded lightly, taking a sip from my drink. Beth slowly teased the white blouse off her shoulders. It fell down her arms and behind her back to the floor. She sighed and lifted her arms to cover her body.
Her bra was white and pristine and looked new, it covered her small breasts with a delicate innocence. I could see her chest rise and fall with each quick breath.
“What made you come here then? You could have ignored the note, carried on with your colleagues, gone back to your room. Why did you come?” I asked with genuine curiosity. “Take off your skirt,” I added.
Beth looked around, clearly feeling uncomfortable, but driven by an urge that she didn’t fully understand. Her hands fell to her side and she unfastened the button holding her skirt up, then slid the zipper down slowly. She began to wriggle the tight garment down her hips and it eventually collapsed down her nylon covered legs and gathered around her ankles. She made no attempt to kick it away. Her arms raised instinctively to cover her breasts and her pussy.
“Put your hands behind your back, I want to see you. And answer my question, please,” I snapped.
Beth jumped and moved her hands behind her back, then stood before me, her face lowered. “I came here because I… I wanted to.”
“Did you come here to fuck?”
“No… yes… I… I don’t know. All I know is that you wanted me to come, and I came. I didn’t really think.”
I felt a flush of warmth erupt in my pussy. I’d never experienced anything like this before in my life. This submission, this capitulation, this total acceptance of my authority. My mind felt alive for the first time in years and raced with the nascent urges that would mould my being for years to come. I was operating on instinct now.
“Take off your bra,” I asked with a casual nod.
Beth shifted as her hands fiddled with the clasp, then the bra fell down her arms and joined her other clothes on the floor. I studied her and caught a moment of doubt in her eyes as she instinctively moved to cover her naked breasts. But my will exerted itself in her mind once more and she meekly crossed her hands behind her back, revealing herself to me.
Her breasts were pale and small, with pink nipples that were gathered in a taut bud of arousal. Her skin was soft and firm, virtually unblemished in the fading flush of her youth.
“How old are you Beth?”
She looked up at me, suddenly seeming very vulnerable. I felt a thrill ripple through my body.
“I’m nineteen Miss Ross.”
I gently set my drink down beside me on the cabinet and studied the girl for a second. Then I stood and walked over to her, relishing every step. She looked so deliciously corruptible, standing there in only her pantyhose and low heels, a pair of white cotton panties covering her young pussy. I stopped inches away from her and touched my fingertips to her chin, lightly forcing her head upwards until she looked at me. I could feel her breasts brushing against mine, her hard nipples provoking my own through the thin material of my dress.
I leaned down and closed my eyes, feeling the girl sigh in my grip. Our lips brushed together, a soft touch with the lightest contact that nevertheless sent electric sparks of energy rippling between us. The pair of us gasped in tandem, then our mouths fell together with an urgency that surprised me. Beth allowed herself to be guided by me, cowed by my height and the dynamic between us. Her hands remained fixed behind her back and she leaned backwards into my arm. With my free hand, I reached down and grabbed her breast, kneading it roughly, relishing the warm nub of her nipple rubbing against my palm.
Our lips slid together, smearing my red lipgloss against her delicate mouth. I felt myself become animated by a powerful instinct, the need to touch, to taste, to possess. My tongue darted out of my mouth and into hers, meeting her tongue and lapping at it. She didn’t attempt to resist my advances, she surrendered to my invasion and meekly rolled against me, driven by similar passions as those that ignited a fire inside my pussy.
My mind raced with this incredible new sensation, an overload of input that was novel and different. So alien and exotic, softer than Jeremy’s clumsy slobbering, yielding and meek. I felt the thrill of arousal rush around my body, igniting my inner warmth.
I pulled back briefly, resting my forehead against hers, panting heavily and savoring the feeling of her hot breath on my face. I shifted my position to move my supporting hand up her neck and into her hair, then I griped tightly and pulled her head back away from me. She gasped and I felt her body go rigid, a moment of panic, serving to heighten her arousal, and mine.
With my other hand, I grabbed her upper arm and she squealed, but made no attempt to break free. With a single motion, I spun her around to face away from me and marched her over to the bed, keeping hold of her arm and her hair. Then I pushed her roughly forwards. Her lower legs struck the bed and she collapsed onto the mattress, instantly spinning around to face me and gathering her legs up defensively. A flash of fear swept across her face, and her hands dug into the comforter, gripping it tightly.
“I want to taste your pussy,” I said with a smile, climbing up onto the bed beside her. With trembling hands, I reached out and took hold of her right ankle, then slowly slipped her heel off her foot. I sensed her relax slightly, and her toes wiggled in my grip, stretching the thin gauze of the pantyhose. I noted that her toenails were not painted, and she was free of any ugly tattoos that girls seemed to like these days. Shifting my position, I removed her other shoe and cast it aside, then pulled her legs apart and positioned myself between them.
She studied me as I worked, watching every move, never once relaxing the rictus grip she had on the bedding. She seemed captivated by me, like a deer in headlights, resigned to her fate and her utter surrender. This thrilled me.
With both hands, I lifted her legs and rested her feet on my right shoulder, then slid my fingers beneath the waistband of her pantyhose. Slowly, teasingly, I pulled the nylon hosiery up her legs, taking her panties along for the ride, and eventually slipped the bundle of material off her feet.
Completely naked now, Beth pulled away from me and curled up into a foetal position, drawing her knees back to her chest and wrapping her slender arms around them. She looked terrified and aroused in equal measure, unable to process the new sensations that were flooding through her body.
I sat back and fixed her with a stern look. “Help me out of my dress Beth,” I commanded and turned around on the bed so that my back was to her.
I looked back over my shoulder as she uncurled from her defensive ball and raised up to her knees. Having a task to do seemed to distract her from her nakedness, and she seemed less nervous. I felt her kneel behind me, the hot warmth of her breath on my exposed neck, the trembling touch of her fingers as she pulled the zipper on my dress.
I lifted myself up on my knees and held my hands above my head, then Beth reached down and slid her fingers beneath the hem of the dress and slowly pulled it up over my body. She placed it down on the bed beside us and waited for further instruction.
“Take off my bra,” I said, by now utterly comfortable with commanding her to do my bidding. Her fumbling fingers struggled with the fiddly clasp for an eternity of seconds, then finally the bra slipped forwards over my arms and fell to the bed. I breathed a relieved sigh as my tender breasts and aching nipples felt freedom, then I tu
rned around on the bed to face Beth, and lowered myself back on my elbows.
“Take off my panties,” I said, and Beth obediently moved her hands to my hips. “With your mouth,” I added with a sultry purr, nibbling lightly on my fingertip.
Beth paused for a second, then shifted her body until she was positioned between my legs. I parted my knees for her, not stopping for a single second to think how strange this was, how different and exotic it felt to be naked with another women, to want her tongue on my body, to taste her with my own. The young girl then bowed her head until her mouth was inches above my dripping pussy. With a surprising dexterity, she took the waistband of my black lace panties in her teeth and began to pull the flimsy lingerie towards herself. I gasped as her soft hair brushed against my thigh, as I felt her hands grip my calves, her warm breath on my inflamed sex. I lifted my ass off the bed, allowing her to slide the panties over my legs and feet. Then she sat back on her heels, kneeling before me with my panties hanging from her mouth. She looked at me, awaiting further instruction and I felt a blossoming wave of arousal spreading through my body.
She was mine to control, for this night only, she would do anything I said, no matter how degrading or humiliating. How could I ever go back to my life, knowing that such feelings and urges existed? My racing mind explored one hundred avenues at once, endless possibilities and potentials… but one thought overtook all the others, an urge more primeval, instinctual and urgent.
“Do you want to eat my pussy Beth?” I breathed.
She nodded, the panties still gripped between her lips, and I believed her wholeheartedly. I slid back on the bed and spread my legs wide, revealing my wet pussy to the young girl. She gazed down at it and the panties fell from her mouth. A look of greedy hunger spread over her face and a flush of angry red caused her neck and chest to glow like a hot ember. I reached down with my right hand and pulled my fingertips through my labia, spreading apart the pink folds and smearing the wetness over my aching clit, urging her forwards.
