Leather & Lace

I responded to a call from my temp agency to be at Madison and 63rd, at 9:00 am on Monday morning, for an undetermined length assignment.  Short on money I really wanted to make a good impression, hoping that they would keep me on for a while, so I showed up a half-hour early.  Walking into the lobby of the brown stone building, I was immediately met by a doorman.  He asked if he could help me and I told him I was looking for the company name printed on the paper I handed him.  He looked at the paper.  I blushed as he looked at me over from head to toe and pointed to the curved marble staircase that rose to the second floor. 

“Models go directly to the second door on the right at the top of the stairs”, he said with a smile.  “Oh, I’m not a model”, I told him with a shaky laugh in my voice.  “I’m here as an administrative assistant temp”. 

“Pardon me, young lady”, the elderly gentlemen said soberly.  “It’s just that you look pretty enough to be one of their catalog models.  Sorry again, mam, first door on the left.”  I turned away and walked quickly up the royal maroon strip of carpet that covered the center part of the ornate stairway.  The door at the top of the stairs was wooden framed with a frosted glass inset, which bore the legend Leather and Lace, Co. in gold script.  I blushed again thinking that the guard thought me to be a model for this company.  I screwed up my courage and knocked on the door.  I had to knock a second time before a handsome mid-thirtish man opened the door. 

“Hello”, he said quietly.  “How may I help you?” 

“I’m Sharon Glasser, the temporary administrative assistant you requested from Ad Temps”, I replied quickly.  His face breaks into a grin.  “Excellent”, he exclaims.  “I’m Mike Thatcher, one of the three partners for our company.  We lost our secretary sooner than expected to maternity leave last Tuesday and the office has been a disaster since.  Come on into my office and we’ll get through the personal BS ASAP and then get you right to work.”  He had an engaging and warm manner about him that made me feel like I was walking into his family home and was being greeted as an old friend.  He helped me off with my coat and hung it in a nearby closet that he said I should use in the future.  He then lead me to the coffee machine and asked if I wanted any.  We each made our own and then walked into his office.  It mirrored the man before me. 

The room was paneled in a golden mahogany.  Plants lined the large picture window.  A large wooden desk filled one corner of the office.  He ushered me over to the plush leather couch and sat down himself in a chair across from me.  He set his cup and saucer down on the table between us and I quickly mimicked him.  Sitting back his face lost some of his charm as he asked in a sober voice, “You do understand what type of company you will be working for Sharon?”  I looked at him intently, I felt as if there was some test I had to pass here.  “If you mean do I know that your company markets and sells lingerie and other sexually related items”, I replied directly. “Then, yes I do realize what type of company I will be working for.  But I don’t understand how that relates to anything, I am just a temp doing her job, what could be the problem?”  He looked away for a moment as if contemplating his answer, “Our Company makes quite a bit more than just lingerie, and in fact what you referred to as ‘other sexually related items’ covers quite a bit of ground.  We serve a very large clientele, who have a wide variety of needs. We do our best to provide the products that will let them achieve these desires.  These items include body oils, custom condoms, vibrators, dildo’s, leather and latex fetish clothing, leather and Velcro bondage equipment, How to books and videos.... the list goes on.”  He looked deep into my eyes and said softly, “Sharon, the fact is that many women are just uncomfortable typing memos and handling invoices which will include all or at least some of these items, are you OK with this?”  I felt myself smiling nervously, “I’m not totally comfortable about it, but yes I think I can handle it.” He leaned forward and spoke in that warm fatherly voice of his, “Good, you see if you work out, we will need your services for at least two to three months and I need to know that I can count on you.” 

“That won’t be a problem, sir”, I replied confidently.  “I am sure that you can count on me.” 
He looks me over closely and then nods his head as if accepting my answer; “All right then let me show you to your desk.”  We spent the next couple of hours going over the tasks I would need to undertake on a daily basis; learning the filing system and logging in to the computer network and reviewing the computerized systems.  Basically, the job entailed looking after the three partners appointments and correspondence.  I also had to understand the database to research things, such as pricing that maybe included in their memos and letters.  When Mr. Thatcher left I got down to the real work of cleaning up the mess that had occurred in the relatively short time period that they were left without a secretary.  By the end of the day I had all of their calendars straightened out, there appointments for the remainder of the week set up and most of their correspondence sorted and prioritized. 

“This is wonderful”, Mr. Thatcher beamed.  “I am going to talk to your employment agency immediately, but I can tell you right now that we will want you for the remainder of our secretaries maternity leave.”  He shifted to his right and opened up one of the filing cabinets.  Pulling out a glossy finished magazine he handed it to me with a warm smile.  “This is our catalog, not the small abridged one that we send to our first time customers, but our complete version that we ship to our more serious customers.  Please, take it home and leaf through it so you can get a feeling for our company and its products.”  I held the catalog in my hands with a little bit of trepidation, as if it would bite me or something.  The cover was nearly pornographic with the company name in gold script over the outline of a heart, which was made of a golden rope that was knotted at the top.  Inside the heart were two pictures.  One of a sexy blond in a lacy crimson bustier and panties outfit, complete with matching stockings, frilly finger gloves and high-heeled red satin slippers tufted with puffy malibu feathers.  The other was of a gorgeous brunette, wearing a black leather corset that made her waist appear minuscule.  Besides a seductive come-hither smile she also wore a d-ring studded black leather collar, numerous garters that attached to fishnet stockings and what looked to be six inch spiked heels on black patent leather pumps.  I looked into his warm eyes and managed to say, “Thank you, sir, that’s very nice... of you.”  Making a shooing motion with his hands he responded, “Nonsense, my dear, now off with you, its after five already.” 

I put the magazine in my handbag and went home.  I made a quick solitary dinner for myself and ate it while watching a rather funny, yet mindless sitcom.  I always liked the way that that slight dark haired Jewish woman wore all of those extremely exciting clothes and yet never seemed to get a rise out of her lordly British boss.  Turning off the TV, I rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher.  The place seemed incredibly quiet.  It had been only three weeks since I had told my live-in boyfriend to move out and I still wasn’t used to being so alone.  Three short weeks and everything in my life had gone topsy-turvy.  Leaving him had also meant leaving my job as we both worked for the same law firm.  I thought of maybe calling him, but decided firmly against it. 

A nice relaxing shower was what I needed, so I headed in that direction picking up my soft fuzzy pink robe as I went.  The shower was warm and delicious.  I felt wonderful as I stepped out and dried myself off.  Slipping on my robe I headed for my bedroom and a good book.  I snapped on the stereo to a soft rock station to put a little sound in the place.  As I went to grab my book, I saw my handbag lying on the dresser.  I thought of the catalog and groaned at the thought of work interfering with my leisure.  But, then another thought popped into my mind.  That catalog was pretty damn risqué; I bet I can get a few chuckles looking through it.  God knows I haven’t had many of those lately. 

I retrieved the magazine and sat down cross-legged on the bed.  I felt the smooth glossy surface with the tips of my fingers and looked closely at the brunette in the corset.  Her facial features, her breasts, waist, legs.... everything.  I looked at her with the truly critical eye of a woman and I was astounded that I couldn’t find anything wrong with her.  Then I laughed to myself and thought that’s because she looks so much like me!  Yeah right, I said to myself.  I looked at her again, seeing the outfit this time and imagining what it would be like to wear it.  How tight did it need to be to make her waist that small and push her breast forward that much?  I felt myself being drawn into the picture, as if it were hypnotizing me.  Shaking my head, I quickly turned to the first page. 

The two opened pages contained some pretty lace teddies and various types of nightgowns.  I turned through the next pages that held your basic fair of lingerie, including stay up stockings and matching slippers.  I paused upon one page to see the blonde from the cover staring up at me with a wide inviting smile.  What actually had caught my attention was that she was wearing a short baby blue silk nightgown that I owned!  I looked at the picture closely, which showed two views of the short nightie; front and back.  Yes, I was 90% sure that I was right.  I went to my dresser and opened my lingerie draw.  The sweet scent of potpourri greeted me.  I found the little gown and looked for the label.  Sure enough, Leather and Lace, Co. was stamped on it.  I had brought this in a local lingerie store so I guessed that not all of their business was done through catalog. 

I looked back at the brunette in the magazine and then at the slight silk slip in my hands.  What could be more appropriate than looking through the companies catalog with one of there own creations on?  I shrugged out of my bathrobe and raised my arms, letting the baby blue silk slide down over my still warm breasts.  The material clumped just above my firm mounds and I then remembered the band of elastic that was worked into the soft material and supposed to be placed right below my chest.  Using both hands I gently pulled the bottom of the material downward until my breasts slid properly into place.  Ohhhh, I murmured to myself, as the soft silk rubbed against the tips of my nipples, giving me an exciting little shock.  I arranged the dress properly; putting the spaghetti straps parallel to each other, reseating my firm breasts in the barely concealing silken triangles and smoothing out the remainder of the material that barely covered me to my crotch.  I looked in the mirror over the dresser and posed like the woman in the catalog.  I worked until I really got the come-hither look in my eye and the appropriate thrust forward of my breasts and tilt to my hips.  Damn, I do look like that brunette on the cover! 

I hopped back onto the bed and continued to look through the catalog.  Next came the more provocative lingerie; bustier’s, corsets, push up bras, crotch-less panties and some really wild costumes.  There was the standard French maid and Playboy Bunny outfits, but there was also Arabian Belly dancer costumes, genie outfits and some strappy spandex creations that I wasn’t totally sure could be put on without help.  Next were some extremely far out creations, made exclusively of either leather or latex.  All of these were very form fitting and extremely provocative.  Fetish Wear was the label used at the top of the page.  The women all looked like they were poured into these outfits.  It couldn’t be comfortable I thought, until I spotted the brunette again and sure enough she was sporting a wide smile.  Now, I know models are supposed to smile, but hers seemed really genuine.  So I revised my estimate on the clothing’s comfort level and moved on. 

Shoes were represented in many shapes and colors.  Almost all of which could not be found in your standard shoe store.  There were boots, pumps, sandals and slippers, most of which sported heel heights of four inches or more.  It was easy to see where the high heels from the cover had come from.  Following this were the normal range of dildo, vibrators and body oils.  I didn’t look to closely at these items as I continued to flip the pages. 

Bondage Equipment labeled the following pages and I was actually amazed at how much there was of it.  Leather and Velcro wrist and ankle restraints and collars in many different sizes and colors.  I was further astounded at the variety of different ways they had found to make a gag!  Balls, plugs, rings and even penises were used to fill the poor young ladies mouths and throats.  One of the pictorial sales pitches showed a series of pictures representing the proper application of a large red ball gag, and there she was again.  The brunette held the ball against her coffee painted lips; her eyes seemed to twinkle with anticipation.  She opened her mouth to its full extent, but the ball refused to go past her pearly whites.  Using the tips of the fingers on both hands she pushed the ball behind her teeth in the next panel and then buckled it behind her head.  Finally in the last panel she faced the camera full on, the red ball distended her coffee covered lips obscenely wide.  The leather of the strap bit into each cheek tightly, but through all this you could see the excitement in her eyes.  Her excitement seemed to flow into me and I could feel myself beginning to respond to the erotic image... whoa, I said to myself and returned to flipping pages. 

Toward the rear of the catalog were magazines, books and videos dealing with the entire gamut of sexual desires and fetishes.  I really wasn’t looking closely when all of a sudden something caught my eye.  It was a picture of Mr. Thatcher dressed in a classy dark jacket, shirt and slacks outfit.  This was not the remarkable part of the picture though.  His picture was on the cover of a VHS tape entitled ‘Bondage 101’.  In his hands he held a leash that was attached to the collar surrounding the neck of the beautiful brunette from the cover, who was kneeling at his feet!   Her hands were bound tightly behind her, yet she looked up at his face with what I can only describe as.... adoration!  I began to meld with the picture once again, imagining myself in the brunette’s skimpy custom, kneeling at this strong man’s feet.  I began to get hot and my hands, moved to my vagina without me thinking about it.  I had not put any panties on and the nightdress had ridden up my thighs, so there was nothing to slow me from reaching the ever-increasing warmth between my lower lips.  I felt the heavy leather collar as it rested upon my shoulders. The tight bodice of the corset that thrust my breasts upward and whittled, down my already slender waist.  The heavy manacles on my wrists, which kept them from reaching out to touch the incredibly sexy man before me.  Finally, I felt my feet arched to the amazingly high heel of my black leather pumps.  “Ohhhhhh, Ohhhhh”, I moaned as I closed my eyes and lay back against the bed.  My fingers rubbed briskly against my clit, sliding into the folds of skin to find the true tender spot.  Those wonderful digits of mine moved even faster setting me on fire and building me up to an incredible climax.  I found myself arching my hips against my fingers, pushing my pulsating pussy against them even harder.  Oh, and then I came and I came and I came...  My body jerked and my hips rotated upon their own over excited volition.  Hmmmmm, yes, it was glorious.  I felt warm and as happy as a sated cat.  I lay there in my golden glow, thinking that it had never been this good with old what his name... and then my body stiffened and my eyes popped open. 

I finally realized what had just happened.  I had fantasized about being the women in the picture bound at my boss’s feet and this was the result!  Oh, God what am I doing.  I quickly calmed down and rationalized the situation.  Men cum to pictures of naked women in suggestive poses all of the time, why shouldn’t I be able to do the same?  No it wasn’t your standard fantasy, but surely it was just an aberration.  With that thought in mind, I cleaned up the room, putting the catalog back in my bag and went to sleep. 

The next day went quietly and mainly uneventfully.  My duties kept me busy enough so that I did not need to reflect to often over what had occurred the previous evening.  Answering phones, sorting memos and arranging calendars were simple yet exacting tasks, especially when handling three different superiors.  Almost all of my communication with them seemed to be through are computerized E-Mail system.  I saw Mr. Thatcher in passing, moving from meeting to meeting. 

The other two partners were out of the office again today, but I was amazed at the amount of work that they would have me handle via E-mail and fax.  The law firm that I had worked for previously barely used their E-mail system and everything was still done the old way, face to face.  I was also surprised at how cordial they both were in their requests and their hopes that I was enjoying working for the company. 

That evening, alone in my apartment, I couldn’t hold off thinking about the night before.  What had I been thinking of?  I did my normal evening workout and than ate my dinner, while I watched jeopardy.  My thoughts strayed to the catalog, and I said to myself, ‘You don’t want to go their girl friend’.  I tried hard to put the whole thing out of my mind. 

That proved to be impossible.  The catalog was like a magnet to my thoughts.  I knew that I had to look at it again and find out what and how it was having this effect on me.  Finally I broke down and retrieve it from my bag.  Turning off the TV I turned on the stereo, pushing the pre-set button that turned me to a local classical music station.  I was hoping that the soothing music would allow me to examine the magazine-like catalog in a library like environment. 

Rather than adjourning to the site of the previous evenings uncertainties, I sat down on the couch in the living room.  My hair was still wet from my shower so I smoothed at back against my head so that no loose drops of water would fall on the magazine.  I left my fuzzy bright pink bathrobe on this time and tucked my pink Isotoner slippers under my rear end as I settled myself. 

Opening the magazine I looked at each of the catalogs offering more closely than I had the night before.  Trying to be as clinical as possible, I read through each products attributes.  I read the small articles that they included to inform for their readers concerning the differences, between different fabrics.  Cotton, nylon, satin, silk all had their differences in feelings they conveyed to the wearer’s body.  They seemed to be subtly pushing women buyers toward choosing the more expensive fabrics.  The closing of the article stated that no matter which fabric was chosen, that any of these creations would ‘warm their partner’s heart’.  I didn’t think that that was the part of the person’s partner that would be warmed, but I did agree that satin and silk had a move exciting feel than nylon. 

The lingerie section was rather lengthy and it took me quite awhile to read through it all.  In a way it was the most comfortable part of the magazine for me to read, because I already had experience in the area.  Even the fetish clothing and heels didn’t faze me.  No I had never worn clothes exactly like that or heels that high, but their basic task was still to turn on the person’s lover and this I did understand.  I had numerous times purchased dresses, skirts and blouses cut more provocatively than modesty dictated simply to please my male suitors.  Just last New Years I wore a strapless satin mini dress that showed off a good portion of my breasts and had a hem the extended barely four inches past my crotch.  The black strappy sandals that went with the dress sported a very high heel, so yes these products I could relate to. 

The ‘toys’ section of oils, creams, condoms, didlo’s, vibrators, etc., I decided to skip through.  I had never used any of them and since I had basically always had a boy friend I had never seen the need for the more female oriented items. 

I slowed at the ‘bondage’ section and worked through the extensive array of leather goods.  There were many items that without the aid of the pictured model wearing them, that I would not have been able to tell you what they were or what the purpose was.  There were sets of straps that immobilized the torso, legs or entire body.  Leather sleeves and straight jackets.  My head began to spin with the multitude of bondage permutations that all of these different types of bindings would allow.  How many people were using these items that necessitated such a large selection?  I had previously thought that only the biker and gay crowd got into this type of scene.  But, the articles that accompanied this section were aimed at seemingly normal people.  There was even a few letters of glowing endorsements, all of them from what I would refer to as ‘normal’ people. 

One from Jenny R. in Scottsdale, AZ., stated that she was the mother of two and that bondage and particularly Leather and Lace’s fine products had saved her marriage.  The free catalog and a few purchases had led her and her hubby into an exciting fantasy world that they both could share and enjoy. 

There was also the pretty brunette to consider.  Her image graced many of the publications, pages and in every one of these pictures she looked happy, serene... content.  Yes, that would be how I would describe her!  Even in the picture on the video cover where she was kneeling at Mr. Thatcher’s feet, she looked content and satisfied with her situation. 

These thoughts began to shake me from my clinical reviewing techniques and make it much too personal.  I decided that was enough for now and went to bed.  I tossed and turned for a bit, while my mind roiled with questions, but I finally fell into a fitful sleep. 
 
 

On Wednesday I met the one of the two remaining partners and was surprised to find that she was a woman.  Every bit of correspondence that I had handled for her was addressed to L. Grant.  I had always assumed that the ‘L’ stood for Larry or Lou (as in Lou Grant of Mary Tyler Moore fame).  Lucinda was a very good-looking lady in her late thirties who always dressed perfectly.  Custom fit suits, long form fitting skirts with boots or high heels.  She seemed a bit brusque when we were introduced, but later seemed to soften towards me. She even took time to show me the “product closet” which was really better classified as a small storeroom. 

“I don’t know your inclinations my dear”, she said pleasantly, but this room should be able to satisfy any that you may have I blushed fiercely, but said nothing.  “You really should spend some more time with our products, so that you know what we are talking about when we refer to a certain item.”  Lucinda had a pointer like rod that she seemed to always be carrying.  Using it she sorted through some plastic looking bikini briefs.  With a flick of her stick it flew from the table and into my quickly responding hands.  “Edible underwear”, she informed me.  “Go ahead take a bite, it won’t hurt you.”  Tentatively, I did take a little nibble.  “That’s actually pretty good”, I said in surprise.  “Apple cinnamon, but it’s really not the “in” thing this year.”  She pointed out some other items, like the sexy French maid costume and the sky-high heeled pumps and sandals that were consistently in demand.  I had seen all of these items in the catalog, but somehow being near them was making me terribly anxious.... exited. 

Next she pointed out some top-half mannequin bodies that were encased in extremely tight-laced corsets.  “These are custom made to each individual and you would be surprised at how many of them are ordered each year.  Literally thousands, my dear.   You see there isn’t a body in the world that one of these custom fitted wonders can’t help to look better.  The stomach is tightened, the back straightened and the breast thrust forward and upward.”  As she spoke her wand followed the path of her words up my hips and into my narrow waist, then up and over the top of my firm breasts.  It suddenly became very difficult for me to breathe.  I could feel my nipples harden beneath my purple silk blouse and the heat build between my legs, as I looked down at the tip of her baton which still rested on the top of my breasts.  She continued frankly staring at my body, then suddenly and somehow non-chalantly the stick was lifted and she turned away.  “Actually”, she said over her shoulder.  “It would be difficult to enhance your figure my dear, but...” Lucinda looked back at me with a devilish smile, “there is always room for improvement.”  I started to breathe again as she continued about the room.  I wasn’t sure what she had done to me, but the sexual tension in the air had been as thick and sweet as honey.  I could almost see my body through her eyes flowing into one of these tightly laced satin or leather corsets... 

I was lost in my musings when a box was thrust lightly into my mid-section.  “Now this is the hottest seller of the year”, she informed me.  I looked down at the box and saw that it was a complete ‘beginners’ set of Velcro bondage restraints and straps.  “Yes, this is really a wonderful item.  In fact it is the perfect gift to add spice to an existing relationship or excitement to a new one.   The really wonderful thing about these Velcro restraints is that one or the other of the partners in the relationship can put themselves into self-bondage before their lover arrives.  Think about it...” It was again becoming impossible to breathe.  Lucinda opened the box in my nerveless hands and sorted through the enclosed items.  “You strip down naked”, she continues, ”or my personal favorite dress up in some really sexy lingerie, like a form fitting bustier, hose and heels.  Then you lay down on your bed and use the ankle restraints to spread your legs toward the respective corners.” She holds up one of the restraints to show it to you more closely.  “It’s really simple to use, just close the Velcro fasteners around the leg of the bed and then shorten the strap to the proper length, lastly you slip the smooth nylon cuff around your ankle.  Ankles are a cinch, no pun intended”, she informed me, “but the wrists are a little more difficult.”  Her eyes are intent upon the contents of the box, but I can’t help but feel that she has some spell over me.  I literally can’t move and the growing fire between my legs must be making my panties wet.  “The first wrist is easy, but the second requires a little more coordination.”  My breathing is coming in short breaths and I am sure that at any minute Lucinda will notice my distress.  God, what would she think of me.   Fortunately, she continued non-pulsed, “You shouldn’t put on the wrist restraints just yet though, or you would not be able to use some of the best parts of the kit.  First you should pop in the ball gag, as it needs both hands to apply properly.”  She dangled the ball gag up before my eyes with the buckle perched on the end of her baton.  She studied the large yellow ball and the thick black strap. “Sometimes you have to push a little bit to get the ball behind your teeth.”  I nodded my head knowingly remembering the pictures in the catalog.  As she returned the ball to the box it brushed my cheek and I almost involuntarily opened my mouth to except the huge foreign object.  “Next, you should bind your first wrist.  But, before you bind your last you should slide on the Pe Est Ta La Resistance... the satin blindfold.  Ahh....” she said softly.  “Imagine your boy friend coming home and finding you, his beautiful present, neatly wrapped and bound upon your bed. Let me tell you, my dear, you will not be going to sleep early on that night.”  She laughed and closed the lid of the box.  I went to place it back on a shelf and she laughed again.  “No, no, my dear, you keep it”, she said with a warm smile.  “You do like I said with your boy friend, it’s my little gift to you.”  I still hadn’t gotten my breathing back to normal and as I started stammering out an unintelligible uttering.  My mind raced I couldn’t possibly take this.... I don’t even have a boy friend anymore... Lucinda pooh-poohed my meaningless refusals and reached below a counter to retrieve a large plain brown shopping bag.  She deftly took the box form my hands and put it in.  She plopped the handles of the bag around one of my still out stretched hands and said, “That’s all right, you don’t have to thank me, my dear.  In fact we encourage our employees to use and experiment with our products.  What better advertising can we get than a glowing recommendation from one of our workers to their friends?”  My soundless mouth finally closed as I thought over the veracity of this last statement.  “To that end we make this room available to everyone in our employ.  You can generally keep anything in the room, with the limitation that you may only take up to two hundred dollars of product per month.  For the some of the more expensive items, like the corsets and boots, we do allow for a certain amount of borrowing.  It really very easy, just log in to the computer at the door and recorded your purchase.  The price, at cost, will be credited against your balance and that’s it!”  As fast as she could speak she completed the transaction, proving exactly how easy it was. 

Lucinda took me by the arm and led me back to my desk.  “Well, that was enjoyable”, she smiled.  “Sometimes I get so involved in the business aspects of it all, that I forget the more personal side of our trade.”  She smiled and then returned back to business, “Opps, I almost forgot.  Don’t forget to get that letter to Emerson out before the end of the day.” Consulting her watch, she continued, “You had better hurry, it’s already half past four.”  Turning on her heel she strode back purposefully to her office. 

I was still basically numb, from what had happened in the storeroom.  Beneath the desk I flapped my short black skirt up and down a couple of times trying to cool off the heat that had built between my thighs.  Every time I thought that I had myself back in control, my leg would rub up against the shopping bag that I had placed there.  Black nylon rubbing against brown paper somehow created quite a strong electrical shock in my hungry sex. 

Groaning inwardly, I took some deep breaths and got down to work.  I had to correct the letter for Lucinda.  She had dictated it into her voice recorder and I had put it down on paper exactly as she had said it, but when she looked at it on paper she decided that she wanted to move things around and re-word some of the sentences.  I was extremely used to this after working in a law office for almost two years, so it was easy to immerse myself in my work. 

At the dot of five Lucinda was there, fortunately the printout was emerging from the laser printer just at the same time.  She quickly read through it.  “Perfect, my dear”, she stated.  “Just get it into the last mail and your finished for the day.”  She looked me in the eye and winked.  “Then go home and have a pleasant evening.”  I blushed profusely, lowering my eyes to avoid her gaze, but ostensibly to fold the letter and seal it into its waiting envelope. I dropped the letter into the mailbox outside the office and hurried home. 

I didn’t know what to do with myself when I got there.  The box in the shopping bag taunted me.  It was like it was calling to me.  Come... come play with me.  I took it off the kitchen table and put it in my bedroom closet.  Needing to get sex out of my head I slipped into one of my workout outfits, put a sweatband about my forehead and started one of my more demanding aerobic videotapes.  By the time the tape ended I was breathing heavily and sweating hard. 

Stripping tiredly from my soiled clothing I dropped them into the hamper and took a warm shower.  The warm water was wonderfully refreshing.  My relaxing mind started to think about the box in my bedroom closet.  What good is it I thought dejectedly to myself; I don’t have anyone to share it with.  I knew I would have to do something though.  Every time I thought about the beginner’s bondage set a knot would form in my stomach and an impossible level of excitement would well up within me. Each time it became difficult to breathe... I had to do something!  While I was blow drying my hair an idea hit me like a physical blow.  It was what Lucinda had said; a person could put herself into bondage using this kit, ostensibly to wait for her lover.  Well, there wouldn’t be any lover coming tonight, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t try out the restraints and other stuff on myself!  I finished drying myself off quickly and raced naked into the bedroom. 

I grabbed the box and opened it, swiftly spilling the contents onto the neatly made bed.  The bed was a full sized four-poster so it was easy to find places to attach the wrists and ankle restraints.  As described, by Lucinda and in the instructions, I shortened the straps so that they would hold me spread to the four corners of the bed.  Looking down upon my completed work, I began to get a little scared.  What was I leading myself into? 

Deciding that I had to take some time and really think through what I was doing, I thought back to Lucinda’s impassioned description of earlier in the day.  She had said something about strapping yourself down naked, or her personal favorite in a bustier and panty outfit.  I had one of those I thought to myself.  I had brought it looking to bring some excitement into my previous relationship.  Unfortunately I purchased it during the basketball playoffs and he never even turned from the set to see me in it standing in the doorway to the bedroom.  Before he had come to bed for the evening, I had wrapped it back up and slid it into the back of my lingerie draw. 

I removed the wrappings and lay the baby blue bustier which black lace trim down on the dresser.  The matching panties, stockings and even the frilly finger gloves followed.  By taking my time in dressing and pampering myself, I felt that I would have plenty of time to think through what I was doing. 

I slipped on the lacy G-string like panties.  My dark bush showed plainly through the thin nearly transparent material.  I brushed my wavy auburn hair out so that it shinned with red highlights and wrapped itself around my eager face.   Remembering the brunette in the catalog, I used a coffee colored lipstick and brown toned eye shadows to compliment it.  I put just the faintest hint of rouge on to highlight my cheekbones and then sprayed on a little White Shoulders.  I was doing everything that I would do as I prepared myself for a lover.  These simple motions, things that I had not done in quite along time, were making me hot. 

I snapped myself into the tight confines of the soft blue bustier.  Except for the black lace trim I could see right through the transparent lacy material.  I stared at the flat of my stomach which displayed my "inny" belly button, then at my firm pointed breasts which showed off there dark circles around the nipples.  I rearranged my chest in their strapless cups, showing off more of my cleavage to my imaginary lover.  Unrolling the powder blue stockings I pulled it expertly up my calf, over my knee and up to mid thigh I clipped the lace trimmed top to the bustier's attached garters.  Finishing the second leg, I stood and looked into the mirror. 

I posed a little and made eyes at my own reflection, but then I decided something was missing.  I went to my closet and returned with a pair of black leather pumps.  My party pumps I called them as their heel was almost four inches and therefore the only thing they were useful for was party.  I slid into them and now felt that the picture was complete.  Now I looked just like the models in the catalog and I was perfectly ready and prepared to try out my new ‘toys’. 

Walking over to the bed I sat down in the middle of it.  The white goose down comforter which gave way to my weight, puffed up around my sitting form.  I went to move my feet towards the corners of the bed and caught a heel in the comforter.  From the noise it had made I was afraid that I had ripped it, but close examination revealed that my fears were unjustified.  One to each hand I pulled off my pumps and tossed them towards the closet.  I wasn’t ripping my favorite bed spread for anything.  Looking down at my stocking clad feet I had the unreasonable feeling that my outfit was incomplete and I just couldn’t shake it.  It was also beginning to ruin the whole event.  My eyes looked imploring towards the closet, at my shoe rack and the cubbies compartments that held slippers and such... “Yessssss, I said to aloud in a happy voice. 

I jumped from the bed and ran to one of the cubbies, pulling out my soft black leather ballet-like slippers.  They had a padded insole and a little bow that made them ultra feminine.  I slid them on and smiled, wiggling my toes in the soft leather as they melded themselves to my feet.  I set myself back down in the center of the bed feeling perfectly ready to start my little fantasy. 

From my sitting position I stretched both legs towards the bottom corners of the bed.  As I worked my ankles towards each of the ankle restraints I began to realize that I had placed them a little further apart then I had anticipated.  Sliding down toward the foot of the bed I took the first nylon cuff in my hands.  A shiver of anticipation flowed through me.  I opened and closed the Velcro clasp a couple of times to see how it worked.  That distinctive scratchy sound as Velcro clasps were opened and closed began to take on a whole new and erotic meaning for me. I pulled against the strap and found that it would hold against all of the strength that I could muster.  Satisfied I wrapped the first cuff around my right ankle closing the Velcro pads solidly against each other.  The black nylon cuff hardly moved as I pulled and twisted my leg against it and its very secure attendant strap. 

The left ankle was more difficult.  I had to slide my rear end back towards the middle of the bed and then spread my legs almost as wide as I could stand in order to reach it.  Next I had to bend over at the middle like a runner doing stretching exercises to grab the far cuff and place it about my ankle.  I sat there for a moment looking down at the restraints that separated my ankles.  I had made the straps shortest for each of the ankle restraints, thinking that I wanted to be sure to make the bindings tight.  This left less than a foot of nylon strap tethering each ankle to the bed’s respective posts.  I could feel the muscles in my inner thighs protesting the abuse caused by the wide open letter V that my bound legs formed.  I shrugged off the slight discomfort, writing it off as part of the whole experience. 

With my hands supporting me behind my back, I started to play with my new ‘toys’.  I rotated my feet from right to left, watching the interplay of colors and feeling the sensual touch of each of the different fabrics.  The black nylon cuffs were wound ever so tightly around my powder blue nylon stockings.  Their was very little give in the cuffs, but each move sent the feeling of the harder nylon rubbing against softer nylon stocking rocketing up my spine like a mild electric shock.  I shivered and flexed my feet in the cozy interior of the soft black slippers, revealing in the feel of the warm pliable leather that surrounded them. 

This type of slipper had always been my favorite.  From time to time I had found them in satin, but this latest pair were made of soft kidskin.  They best resembled warm up ballet slippers, minus the strap across the top of the foot.  The throat was a little deeper however showing off the joining of my toes to my feet through the light blue stockings.  A little lace-string bow was formed at the tip of the throat.  The strings used to form this bow actually encircled my feet, holding them firmly into the slipper without the obtrusiveness of the over the foot strap.  I loved the look of the black leather as it flexed over and around the contrasting baby blue nylons. 

I was too anxious to take any more time appreciating this beginning of what I now realized was my first bondage experience.  Reaching to my left I picked up the ball gag included in the set.  The instructions, showed those unimaginative pencil-like drawn outlines of how to properly to apply the gag.  Holding each of the gags straps close to the ball, as shown in the instructions, I lifted it up in front of my lips.  Opening my mouth to except the cold rubber, I... chickened out.  Did I really need to gag myself to fulfill my fantasy?  That ball seemed awful big, I thought.  I remembered that the only time I had ever opened my mouth up that widely was at the dentist office and that had undeniably bad connotations. 

The brunette in the magazine didn’t seem to have any problem with the gag, I recalled.  Still needing a little moral support, I reached for the catalog that I had earlier placed conveniently on the bedside table.  In my current position though I could no longer reach it.  Bending and twisting my body I finally managed to snag the magazine and flipped it open to the appropriate page.  The brunette smiled invitingly at me, seeming to say ‘the waters fine, come on in and join me’. 

Sighing, I mimicked her movements in the pictorial.  Opening my mouth as wide as I could, I pressed the ball up against my teeth.  Just like in the picture the ball refused to go easily beyond my pearly gate, but I was able to hold the ball with my teeth freeing up the use of my hands.  I applied increasing pressure to the thick ball, pushing it into my mouth and spreading my jaws ever wider.  Pop, all of a sudden the ball was past my teeth and into the interior of my mouth.  Using my tongue and fingers I maneuvered it into the most comfortable position possible.  Grasping the slack straps, suspended from either side of my mouth, I tightly buckled them behind my neck.  Straightening up, from looking at the magazine, I realized that the gag wasn’t as uncomfortable as I had feared. 

In the mirror above the dresser, I could see my reflection.  My coffee colored lips were tautly stretched about the large yellow ball.  The black leather straps pulled the distended corners of my mouth even further.  Yes, now I looked just like the brunette in the magazine. 

I tried to talk through the mouth-filling gag and was rewarded, by a garbled and mainly unintelligible nasal whining sound.  Screaming into the gag produced a small increase in the volume, but I was certain that I would be unable to be heard at any great distance. 

Lucinda’s instructions told me to secure one of my wrists at this point and that is exactly what I did.  I had to lie flat on the bed to reach the left wrist restraint, while twisting my body sideways to be able to use my right hand to secure the cuff.  I pulled at the black nylon and found that it was as well attached as my ankle bindings.  Rolling back, I reached out my right hand to make sure that I could find the final strap.  I looked at it as closely as I could from my fettered position, memorizing its placing upon the pillow and where the Velcro pad was located. 

Finding the black sleep mask at my side, I used my remaining free hand to slide blindfold over my head and put it into the proper position before my eyes.  I pulled the elastic strap down behind my head and released it, allowing it to bury itself in my thick locks.  Reaching upwards I felt for the pillow and found it.  My hand slithered upwards until it found what it was looking for.  Stretching I grasped the strap just beyond the cuff and held onto it tightly.  I didn’t try to attach the final cuff, as I knew that my imaginary lover would not be there to rescue me from my self imposed bondage. 

I lay back soaking up all of the sensations that were filling me and exciting thoughts that ran through my mind. My body was tightly stretched across the bed.  Even my well-toned muscles protested this unusual treatment.  Realizing that I had made the binding just a shade to tight made me feel good, rather than bad.  Certainly my imaginary lover would not have let me get away with making my bindings so loose that they didn’t convey at least a tinge of discomfort.  This was called bondage wasn’t it?  Therefore, I reasoned, I should feel bound. 

I pulled tentatively against my bonds feeling their unrelenting pressure.  I could flex my legs at the knees and bend my elbows, but that was about all.  Twisting from side to side was possible, but offered me no way out of my situation. The total darkness that surrounded me added immeasurably to the experience.  I could no longer see my movements, so now my ears listened intently for each and every sound that came forth from my struggles.  I screamed into my gag, just because I could and the realization that no one could hear me.  The nasally whine sounded like a far away siren, even to my hyper active hearing. 

I thought of my imaginary lover looking down upon me.  His steely gaze would see the supine from of a lovely young women bound spread upon his bed.  Her shapely form enhanced by the see-through baby blue bustier, the lacy g-string panties and the smooth nylon hose.  Each ankle and wrist tightly graced with restraining black nylon cuffs.  Warm, inviting lips widely encircling the ball gag in her mouth would remind him of other things that they could be stretched about.  The black satin blindfold which would proclaimed to him, ‘I am yours...  All of me... Do with me what you will”.  And finally the soft and thick white down comforter that would seem to suck his waiting damsel into to its warm inviting depths, while providing brilliant contrast to all of the other colors involved. 

I was getting so hot immersing myself in the fantasy, but one unpleasant feeling kept intruding.  My right hand that I was using to grasp the strap was bothering me.  Partly because it was cramping a little, but mostly because without the cuff at least loosely secured, the scene was just not complete. 

Working with my fingers, I moved to remedy this situation by spreading cuff open and wrapping it about my wrist.  The key was to make sure that it was secure enough to hold my wrist, but still be accessible to my fingers to be opened.   Holding the cuff with my fingertips I rolled my wrist against the firm pillow, stopping as soon as I heard the first touching of the Velcro fastening.  I slid my fingers between the two fasteners and pushed the cuff back open, making sure that I could get myself out of what I was about to get myself into.  Confident that I could do so, I re-rolled the cuffs fasteners gently together. 

Finished with my task and feeling content that I had followed the scene described by Lucinda to the letter, I lay back and returned to my fantasy. 

My imaginary lover moved to sit by my side.  Slowly and with deft fingers he started to slowly massage my slipper covered feet.  He did not remove the soft kidskin, but rather used it to enhance the wonderful feel of his fingers kneading my soft peds.  His hands move up my leg to my right ankle caressing and rubbing the taut muscles in my calf.  Firm fingers pushed into the soft skin and stretched muscles about my knee.  His strong hands moved slowly and inexorably upwards.  Together he uses both hands to knead my inner thighs, working out the kinks in these most highly abused muscles.  His fingers continue to work upon my sensitive inner thighs even after his massage had finished.  His touch lightly caresses the satiny smooth nylons around the insides of my knees and moves upward, till they almost touched the lacy strip of cloth that covers my quivering sex.  I groan loudly through the gag, trying to impart to him that I need him... NOW!  But he ignores my plea; removing his hands completely form my thighs.  Oh, please God, let him be opening his fly!  I listen intently, but heard nothing.  Soon his hands return, sliding up my firm belly until they have cupped both breasts.  He expertly kneads my firm mounds sending shivers of excitement coursing through my fettered form.  Helpless, I twist and moan constantly under the spell of his ohh so sensual ministrations. 

My hips are beginning to gyrate wildly upon their own accord.  I am hotter than I ever imagined that I could be, I need to fulfill my sexual needs and I need it now!  I slide my fingers beneath the right cuff and push upwards and was rewarded by the sound of opening Velcro.  Pulling against the binding cuff, I expected it to part, but it didn’t.  I pulled harder and still the cuff held.  Scared, but working to remain calm, I tried again to slide my fingers between the fasteners.  Again the sound of opening Velcro, but still the cuff refused to release me.  In all of my rolling and gyrating I must have attached more of the Velcro than when I had started out. 

Now I began to really get frightened.  What was I going to do?  I was thankful to know that I would not be stuck here forever, because I knew that the cleaning lady would be in on Friday and would surely find and release me.  But that was a full day away and I was totally sure that I didn’t want to be found bound to the bed like this, by my cleaning lady.  Frantic I really began to struggle against my nylon bindings.  I used all of my muscle power straining against each of the tight cuffs one at a time.  Finally I just began to thrash upon the bed hoping that one of the fasteners would work itself loose. 

Totally spent I gave up on my useless struggles and layback to except my fate.  I laughed to myself as I realized that I was now getting the full experience of actually being bound and not being in control of the situation.  Rather than feel sorry for myself, I decided to escape back into my fantasy. 

My lover had left me this way purposefully.  He wanted me hot, raving hot, but unfulfilled... until such time as he desired.  He kissed me about my aching jaw caressing the sore muscles, so softly and gently that I actually became glad that the gag was there.  His hands moved to my breasts as his kisses continued to rain on my cheeks and neck.  My breast surged against the lacy fabric rubbing gently against my nipples and causing them to snap to attention.  Pushing the offending material out of the way, his thumbs and forefingers closed about the firm bullets, which topped my tits.  He began to twirl them between his fingers, making the sensitive tip longer and harder.  Giving them a little pinch an electric shock flowed directly from tips of my nipples to the fire burning between my legs. 

Turning my wrist desperately in the right wrist cuff, I pushed my fingers as far forward under the nylon material as I could and then lifted upwards.  The Velcro opening sound followed and with only a slight tug my arm escaped from its imprisonment as my hand slid through the half open cuff. 

Not bothering to remove any of my other fetters, I sent my fingers down to my aching cunny.  Cumming was all that I could think about.  Pushing the annoying little lace triangle out of the way I tried to stimulate myself the way my imaginary lovers organ would have.  Two and three fingers dived into my lower mouth at a time.  In and out I pushed my hand until my muscles started to ache, but for all my efforts, I couldn’t get that satisfying depth of penetration so I changed tactics.  Moving my hand to the top of my vagina I slid my fingers between my soft wet fore skin and began rubbing my G-spot.  Faster and faster I rubbed and flicked that tender mound of flesh. I felt the seductive pull of my remaining bonds as my legs and arms pulled desperately against them.  My hips were gyrating wildly to the beat of the rumbling orgasm that was building up within me.  A fiery path swept itself through my body as I began to orgasm. 

“Aaaaaaagggggghhhhhh”, I moaned in ecstasy through the mouth-filling gag.  Yes, yes, yes, YES, I thought to myself as my fingers continued their dance and my second orgasm burst upon me.  More, more I whispered to myself.  I was biting down so hard on the rubber ball in my mouth that I was sure that I would either bite right through it or break my teeth before this was over.  Oh, God, yes... again I came in a thundering climax. 

I slowed down the pace of my swirling fingers, thoroughly enjoying the post orgasmic warmth.  Unlike last night, this time I knew what I was getting into.  There was no self-recriminations only the pleasant thought filling my head, that my wildest fantasy had turned out to be every bit as good as I thought it would be.  I lay there totally spent, resting contentedly.  To tired to even remove my bindings. 

story continues in Leather & Lace

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