by Lela Gwenn
“I offer many services the lady of the house has yet to avail herself of.”
The damned smile never left his lips. Bianca willed herself not to blush. Rachel giggling behind her didn't help matters.
She took a deep breath.”Fine. I'll go get my purse.”
***
Inside, the spa was dimly lit. The air hung heavy with incense and enough humidity to keep the orchids that filled the nooks and niches around the room happy. The woman behind the desk wordlessly acknowledged Roger and whisked the women back into the locker room.
“Here are your robes, ladies. Go ahead and undress to your own level of comfort. Your therapist will be in to escort you to your first treatments momentarily.”
Rachel snatched the plush red robe out of the woman's outstretched hand, leaving the tan one for Bianca.
Bianca started to ask what treatments they were booked for, but the receptionist was gone before she had the chance.
Rachel was naked before the door clicked closed. Bianca did her best not to stare. “Are you really going to do this naked?”
“Yeah. Aren't you? How can they get to all the really good spots if you have clothes on?”
The challenge was audible.
“Fine.” Bianca slithered out of her clothes, tucking them into the locker. Pulling the robe tightly around her, she sighed.
A tentative knock on the door was followed by a young woman stepping in.
“Ms. Alvarado? Your massage room is ready if you'd like to follow me?”
“Um...” Bianca paused, not wanting to leave her friend behind.
“Her room will be ready momentarily.” The pleasant woman smiled and held the door open for her. Bianca followed her out the door and down the hall.
Bianca hated to admit it, but a day at the spa was just the thing. The warm oil and the strong hands of the massage therapist hit all the right notes. There had been places Bianca didn't even realize she'd been holding tension. Now she was fully relaxed.
Despite her relaxation, sitting around in the “recovery room” sipping water and reading magazines lost its appeal pretty quickly. Jeez, what's taking Rachel so long?
The tech darted through the door, towels in hand.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, um.. yes, Mrs. Alvarado. Can I help you?”
“I was wondering when Ms. Saul is going to be done?”
The dark haired woman checked her clipboard. “She's in the double massage room with her friend.”
“Um, no. I'm her friend.”
“Oh, well...” The tech looked puzzled then shrugged. “I'll show you to the room.” She padded down the hall & Bianca followed.
“She should be in here. I have....” She pointed over her shoulder and looked uncertain.
“Of course. I've got it from here. Thanks.” Bianca smiled and nodded.
“You're welcome. Excuse me.” She returned to work.
Bianca tapped on the door and then slipped inside. Much like the room she had been in, a shoji screen blocked the view of the room. Rachel's red robe lay across the chair that sat by the door.
Even if there were a dozen other red robes in the spa, the sounds that came from behind the screen were unmistakable-- and hauntingly similar to the moans she'd heard standing outside the guest shower.
An equally recognizable voice growled, “Rachel.”
Bianca held her breath, frozen. She considered retreating. But what if they heard the door? What if someone walked in? She stood stock still, unable to make up her mind.
“Oh, fuck yeah. That's so good.” Roger growled.
Curiosity got the best of her. She peered through a crack between the two panels of the screen.
Roger stood behind Rachel, who was bent over the end of the massage table. They were both naked. His muscular legs were spread wide, ass pumping his...
Oh my...
Esteban was more than adequate. In fact, Bianca had often held him back out of fear. But this... The look of ecstasy on Rachel's face as Roger slammed his cock into her, which to Bianca's eye looked every bit as large as her purple dildo, was ... intriguing.
With every impaling stroke, Rachel's eyes widened with shock and then slitted as he ground the base of his cock into her pussy.
Bianca slid down into the seat, suddenly hyper aware of her body swathed only in the robe. Bianca stared at the door. Her imagination drew vivid pictures of the massage therapist walking in. Certainly the moans and yells would catch someone's attention?
They certainly had Bianca's attention. One hand slid into her robe above the belt of her robe. The other tucked in below.
“Ah, Roger, fuck me. Split me open. Hurt me.”
He answered with an animalistic grunt.
Bianca's imagination filled in the pictures that the sounds so masterfully painted. Her fingers played amongst her wet folds, stroking her clit and exploring the pleasures she could find inside herself. With every loud exclamation of joy from behind the screen her fingers found new ways to stimulate herself. With a soft sigh she plucked her nipple till it was fully erect and pinched it till it ached.
She found her eyes flicking to the door, at once dreading someone walking in and yet thrilling at the idea. Caution almost sent her to lock the door.
“Fill my ass,” Rachel panted.
Oh, my. Bianca had never... she couldn't even...
She slid from her chair and crawled to the screen. On hands and knees she drank in the scene.
Roger's cock head pressed into the cleft of Rachel's ass. He pushed and Bianca saw her best friend's face bloom with pain, pleasure and utter abandon. His strokes started short and easy at first. Back arching, her hand reached back flexing and clenching silently begging for more when her voice failed her.
Bianca's own hand reached back as well, fingers first stopping to collect some of her own sweet slickness. The tip of her first finger tested the tightness of her ass. At first the resistance was too much. But watching the longer and longer strokes Rachel was taking with thrilled open joy was motivation enough.
Bianca wanted that.
Her finger found its way. With a twist of the wrist she found she could slide her thumb into her cunt.
Ahhh... oh.
Roger yelled out announcing his orgasm. Bianca's own crashed through her, making her elbow go weak. Her body tipped forward, bumping the screen.
It swayed. Bianca held her breath.
“What the...?”
Bianca didn't wait. She scrambled up and out, getting herself through the door just in time.
***
The phone rang and Bianca jumped out of her skin.
She stared at it. What if it was Rachel? What if...what if she knew? Bianca picked up the phone
“Dulce Flor, are you okay?”
“I'm... I'm fine.” She took a breath and did her best to brighten her voice. “Rachel took me to get a massage today. It was lovely.”
“Roger said. He also said you left in a cab without them. Sent him a text message?”
“The massage was wonderful, but after it was done she lit some incense of something. The smell gave me a headache.” It was a story that she had been practicing for a while in her head, but even well-practiced it came out shaky.
“You have always been a terrible liar.”
“I... I um...”
“Tell me what is going on.”
His voice was so sure. So forceful. Without thinking about it, she spilled. Every gory detail. Every sticky moment. She'd never had a secret so juicy before and it spilled forth in a torrent.
Silence.
And more silence.
“Esteban? Are you there?”
“I am.” His voice was tight. “I am very glad I don't have to look at you right now, Bianca. I doubt I could.”
“Esteban, I ..”
“I'll call you tomorrow. I have to go.”
“I love you.”
“Tomorrow.”
The phone disconnected.
Bianca hud
dled under the covers of her bed, tears filling her eyes. A long hard night full of tears lay ahead of her.
***
RING!
Startled, she woke. Eyes wide, she grabbed the phone.
He didn't wait for a greeting. “A package will be delivered in the next hour. Sign for it, then call me before you open it.”
“Okay.” she squeaked.
Esteban hung up without another word, leaving Bianca alone with her panic.
He's divorcing me. He's having papers delivered and he wants me to call him so he can be sure I get them.
So he can hear me cry.
Rachel's ring tone trilled from out of Bianca's purse. She listened to it till it stopped and waited to hear the voice mail beep.
The intercom from the front door beeped. She jumped up, wrapped a robe around herself and went to the door.
Peeking through the window, she saw Roger standing there. Her heart leapt to her throat.
“Can I help you?”
“It's Roger. Are you okay Mrs. Alvarado? Rachel is worried. You aren't answering your phone.”
“I'm fine. Migraine. I just need quiet. I'll call her later.”
Call and tell Rachel what, exactly? Oh, my husband is divorcing me. Why? I watched you fuck my chauffeur and it really turned me on and now he thinks I'm a freak.
A cup of tea and a few good cries later, the intercom buzzed again.
On the other side of the glass, the delivery man looked crisp, professional and thoroughly optimistic. Bianca hated him.
She yanked the door open, snatched the clip board and pen, and scrawled her name on the line. Shoving the paperwork back at him she took the box and retreated back into the house.
From the coffee table, the box stared at her. She had expected the apocalypse to come in an official looking manila envelope, not a diminutive white box.
Her cell phone rang. Esteban's ring.
“You should have gotten it by now.”
Great. He's anxious to get it over with.
“Hi.”
“Did it arrive?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn't call?”
“No, I....”
“You have been so naughty lately.” His words were reproachful, but held a warmth and playful edge she hadn't heard in a long time.
“Go shower. Do your hair. Put on make up. Then call me. Before you get dressed. I want to pick out what you wear. This is important. Don't open the box.”
“O...okay.”
“Good. I love you, Bianca.”
“Yeah, I...”
The phone went dead. She hung it up, bewildered.
***
“You're ready? Hair? Make up?”
“I'm all ready. What is this all about? I don't...”
“Send me a picture.”
“I'm naked.”
“I know.”
Bianca dithered for a minute. Could she, really? What if he was setting her up?
“Bianca?”
Finally, she resigned herself to the set up, if there was one. If she was going to lose every thing, she might as well go out in a way that would make Rachel proud of her. Bianca snapped a photo with her phone and sent it to him.
“Good girl. Now open the box.”
Well, great. After he divorces me for being a deviant he'll be able to post naked pictures of me on the internet.
She pulled the tab on the side of the box and it zipped open. Inside was... tissue paper, in various shades of pink. Not what she had been expecting at all. Past the crinkling paper she found a satin bag. She pulled it out and stared at it.
“What is it?”
“Darling, if you can't tell by looking at it, I can't help you.”
She opened the bag and pulled out... panties. But not regular panties. These were made out of a smooth rubbery material and they were heavy. She opened them up. Oh! A smallish knob sprouted from the inside of the crotch and a pill shaped bullet sat in front of it.
“I think this is...”
“Put it on.”
“I don't understand... Esteban, I...”
“Shhh. I told you what I want. Now all you have to do is put those panties on , put your clothes on and go to lunch. Roger will be there to drive you very soon. Call me from the car.”
“What should I wear?”
“Good girl. Your green dress. The short one that wraps. With your black belt.”
He hung up before she had a chance to question him further.
The panties looked small, but were remarkably stretchy. She pulled them up over her ass and gasped a little as the tiny dildo invaded her pussy. She slid into her dress and buttoned up the top as quickly as she could. The intercom buzz came just as she was sliding her feet into her wedges.
“Hello, Roger.”
“Hi, Bi.. Mrs. Alvarado. I hope your head is feeling better.” He stepped aside and held the car door open for her.
“I'm on the mend.” The words come out tight and quiet. What if he knew? If he saw or Esteban told him? What if... The sheer number of ways this could go wrong compounded by the oddness of her husband's behavior and these panties was too much for her to process. She slid into the back of the car and stared straight ahead.
“Where would you like to go for lunch?”
“Um... The Vineyard is fine.”
The car rolled forward and she continued to stare at the back of the seat. Her phone trilled.
“You were supposed to call me.”
“I'm sorry. I'm just...”
“You're going to pay for that.”
Suddenly her panties came to life, a strong vibration coming from the bullet straight into her clit. “Oh, God.”
“Yes, Dulce Flor. Now you see the game.” The vibration abruptly cut off. “Tell Roger to take you to Le Quotidian . “
“He taking me to The Vineyard.”
“No.”
The vibration started again, stronger this time, taking her breath away. She bit back a moan. This stronger movement ran up the small dildo in her pussy. The sensation was compounded.
“Are you okay, Mrs Alvarado?” Roger's eyes peered at her from the rear view mirror.
“I'm fine. I've changed my mind. Take me to Quotidian.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
The car turned and the vibration stopped.
“I'm going to tell you just what to do. Do as you are told and I will be a happy man. Defy me and I will still get my satisfaction.”
“There will be people around.”
“That is precisely the point.”
***
Inside the restaurant, people milled about the maître d's station, waiting to be given a table or released to the bar.
Her phone buzzed.
I want to see you in the panties. 3 minutes.
Bianca bustled to the front of the group.
“Hey there. I see that you're busy. I'm by myself, can I just grab a seat in the bar?”
“You would like to eat?” The maître d' arched an eyebrow up, but didn't look up from his book.
Her stomach flipped at the idea of food, but she had orders. “Yes.”
“I will see if the bar has any space.”
He cut her a look before turning on his heel and stomping into the bar. Time was ticking.
The maître d' returned a moment later and waved her into the bar. “Jason will be taking care of you.”
Jason was apparently eager, because as soon as the maître d' turned away he was there with the menu. “Can I get a drink for you?”
“Vodka and tonic. Whatever your best is. Three limes.” Bianca could feel time slipping away.
He smiled and headed to the bar. She propped her foot on the seat across from her and hitched her skirt up a bit. She pulled her phone out of her purse and slipped it under her hem to get what she hoped was a good enough up skirt shot. She hit the button and three things happened at once.
One, her phone made the unmistakable clicking sound of a picture being taken.
<
br /> Two, the vibrator started going off stronger than ever.
Three, Jason returned with her drink in hand.
“Here you go. Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”
It took everything she had to control her breathing. “What do you recommend?”
“The sole is very fresh today.”
“I'll take that, then.”
“Very good. And I think you dropped your phone.”
Jason bent over, giving Bianca a moment to bite her lip against the intense pleasure. He picked up the phone, glanced at it, then placed it face down on the table.
“Thank you.”
She picked up the phone and saw the shot she had taken, her spread legs. The waiter had to have seen... but the vibration died down and then intensified yet again. Esteban was getting impatient. Seeing no other option, she sent the photo.
A moment later the vibration stopped. Taking a sip of her drink, she settled back into her seat and caught her breath.
All her attention was pointed at the phone, waiting for it to light up. Willing it to light up. Waiting in both dread and... excitement?
My god, am I looking forward to the next round?
In fact, she found herself fantasizing about all sorts of sick little things that Esteban could impose on her. She could feel the heat of her flush. Embarrassment burnt hot in her cheeks, but there was a new fire kindled in her belly. Instead of running from it the way she always had, she cozied up to it. Her phone buzzed.
I want to see your tits. 1 minute.
Bianca tried to recall if Esteban had ever used the word “tits” in her presence before. Never. It was strangely thrilling. Flipping to the camera, she shut off the shutter noise. She started to break for the bathroom. A mirror picture would be just the thing. But with almost preternatural timing, Jason showed up with a tray in hand.
“Here is your sole. May I offer you fresh pepper? He wielded his giant pepper grinder with a flourish.
“No. That's fine.”
“Another drink, perhaps?”
Just go. If he hits the button, I may not be able to hold myself back.
“Yes, please.”
Away he went, but with him he took the time she needed to get to the bathroom and compose the shot. She'd have to improvise.
The dark corner provided some cover. Of course it also made it so she had very little heads up when the waiter returned. There was no time to wait. She pulled aside the wrap and dragged down the fabric of her bra. With a quick snap, she took the picture and sent it.
