Obsession

Chapter One-2

“Ummm...pretty,” she heard the purr in her ear, sending a shiver through her rigidly-held body. Sheila felt the older woman’s touch on her hair; fingers toyed with the flip of the abbreviated pony-tail, and Sheila half turned in her growing unease. A wave of panic set in; she wanted to escape!

“I…”

“Stay! Stand still! Perfectly still,” the voice of command was slow, unemotional, and precise. And then, with lips just inches from her ear so she felt with hot breath, the simple words: “I want to look at you.”

Sheila did as she was told. She let a wave of passivity settle in on her. She stood inert, as if rooted to the floor. She might have been a mannequin; relieved of her purse, docilely surrendering it, letting her arms hang limply at her sides. Sheila was afraid to move. She maintained the pose as ordered, standing at loose attention, her eyes fixed on the closed drapes at the far side of the room, while Nadine stepped back to more fully appreciate her guest’s slim, gray-suited form.

Sheila could feel the other woman’s eyes scrutinizing her; knew she was being looked at from behind, and while her body was paralyzed, her mind was racing full tilt. How did she get herself into this?! It was all so silly! Yet it was real. The stark, white room was real; the exciting woman in the shiny black suit was real. A quiet thrill rippled through her.

She jerked upright and stifled a whimper when a finger touched her from behind, pressed lightly, under the collar of her suit, just at the base of her neck. She felt that finger being slowly drawn the center of her back, following the gentle curve of her spine, into the shallow dip of her lower back, then past the bottom of the jacket to continue without pause, right down the back of her narrow, silk-lined skirt. The exploring touch through her clothes became more intimate as the finger traced the pert curve of the girl’s skirted behind. She was given a light pat on the bottom.

“Nice…oh yes…very nice.” It was a low, dreamy murmur.

The words thrilled her. She didn’t dare move.

Now Nadine stepped around, slowly circling, to take in her guest from all angles, ending up in front.

The dark-haired woman stood perfectly composed with folded arms, facing the tense blond girl, her expression — critical, that of someone considering a purchase, that she might well reject. Sheila waited, hardly daring to breathe, till she saw Nadine slowly nod, as if accepting the presented offering. But if the imperious woman was pleased with what she saw, she showed no sign of it. No glitter of appreciation brightened those hard obsidian eyes, no sign of pleasure softened the lines of that set, business-like face: tight-lipped, with pointed chin proudly raised. All of a sudden Sheila was struck by Nadine’s singular beauty: the face was plain, pale, and tightly drawn, the hair, thick and frazzled, the eyes, devastating in their power, and then there was that unassuming air of icy elegance — that took her breath away!

Sheila, her head held high, gazed back at her new-found beauty of her observer, fascinated, enthralled by that coldly remote stare. She didn’t move a muscle, but her big brown eyes widened in alarm when Nadine suddenly took a step forward to bring herself up to within inches of Sheila’s rigid body.

Looking into Sheila’s widening eyes, she lifted a hand and this time drew that single taloned finger down the side of face.

“Oh...yes, you’re a pretty one alright,” Nadine mused. “Pet,” she enunciated precisely, as if trying out the words, gazing all the while into big brown eyes that were tinged with apprehension. And Pet wants to play. Don’t you Pet?”

“Uuuhh, Nadine,” Sheila faltered, her eyes fluttered, she bit her lower lip, then continued, “I think that I probably….”

“Sssh,” the finger on Sheila’s cheek slid over to press lightly across her questioning lips.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to call me that, now did I?” It was the voice of sweet reason. “I think it’s best if you address me as…’Madam’. Yes, I think that would work quite well, don’t you? You will call me ‘Madam,’ and I will call you… ‘Pet.’ Now wouldn’t that be nice?”

The finger insinuated itself between Sheila’s lips, probing gently against small white teeth, and when it found resistance to entry, it contented itself with exploring the inside of Sheila’s lower lip, running over the gums, pressing back the fleshy lip to fully expose the tightly clenched teeth through which Sheila sucked in a shivering gasp of air.

“Open,” Nadine coaxed in a honeyed tone, gently pressing on the set of clenched teeth. “Oooo-pen,” the order was repeated, harder this time, drawn out, and laced with a threat, like a parent warning a child.

Sheila let her jaw drop; the insistent finger slipped in over the ridge of teeth to explore the inside of her mouth while she stood there, helpless, with arms at her sides.

“Suck.” It was a heated whisper.

The blonde hesitated. The narrowing of Nadine’s eyes was enough to get Sheila to promptly begin to suckle on the intruding digit. After few seconds, with the two women looking into each other’s eyes while Sheila dutifully sucked the finger that was sawing in and out between her teeth, Nadine withdrew.

“I’ll expect you to obey more quickly the next time,” she said dryly, turning away to leave her distraught guest standing there with eyes closed, shoulders heaving as she struggled to catch her breath, like someone who just had a very narrow escape.

***

Sheila, still reeling from her first encounter with “Madam” Nadine, now found herself alone. Still warm and flushed, she sat tensely on the edge of a low leather-covered bench, cradling herself in her arms, rocking forward, as her breathing returned to normal. When she straightened up, and passed a hand over her brow, she found that she was actually sweating! She got to her feet, took a deep breath, peeled off her jacket, and laid it over a chair. In her sleeveless blouse, she had chosen her favorite – a soft pink mauve with a ruffled front, Sheila nervously paced the apartment. She considered for a moment the locked door, then turned away, drifted, and finally gravitated to the edge of the window, to pull back a drape and peer down into the street below. She felt a slight twinge of vertigo. The “real” world, she thought with a cynical smile.

“I’m going to change into something more…’appropriate’,’’ Nadine had informed her, on her way out of the room. “You stay here. Get undressed,” she said as she strolled away.

“What…here? Now?” Sheila cried to the retreating black figure.

“Yes, of course here …and right now! And be quick about it!” Nadine snapped, looking over her shoulder. “And when I come back, I want you buck-naked. You can use that closet for your things,” she added, pointing to a walk-in closet just off the foyer as she sauntered off; a gesture of thoughtfulness which surprised Sheila.

Now she left her station by the window, and went back to stand beside the bench. As in a daze, the girl began stripping, unbuttoning her blouse with hands that moved mechanically, pulling it back off her shoulders to reveal a cream-colored brassiere loosely cradling her shallow breasts.

Sheila had given a lot of thought to her underwear, unsure of just what might happen on her first visit to Nadine. Maybe they’d just have tea, talk, kind of get acquainted. Still, it was possible that Nadine might want to make love to her. She knew that at least a chance of s*x was in the air, and if she had to undress, she wanted to be ready.

The bra was composed of flimsy silk straps edged in lace; the cups had bottom halves of a silky satin that curved up to modestly cover the n*****s, while the top half of each cup was made of a lace mesh, thickly embroidered with scalloped edges. Pretty underwear, yet not the sort of outrageous things that Robin pressed her to wear. Robin dressed her in the most frilly, feminine things. It especially turned her on to see her blond girlfriend parading around in thongs, lacy garter belts, and thigh-high stockings. She still had those sexy underthings, somewhere in the back of her drawers — where they had been hidden since Robin walked out.

She thought of Robin now, and she reached back to undo the catch of her skirt, and lower the little zipper. What would Robin make of Nadine? She grinned knowingly, thinking of the two of them eyeing each other up. You could sell tickets to that cat fight! Gathering up two handfuls of her skirt, she worked it down over her hips with a girlish wiggle. Now the girl was reduced to her heels, bra and pantyhose.

Back on the bench she slipped off her pumps, hooked her thumbs into the pantyhose and rode the clingy nylon down her hips, baring her pantied loins in one swift motion. Having relieved herself of pantyhose, Sheila stood up, collected her things, and padded off to the hall closet, savoring the deep pile of the luxurious carpet yielding softly under her bare feet.

She spent some time there, carefully hanging jacket and blouse, folding skirt and pantyhose and laying them on the shelves. The bare, cedar-lined closet was illuminated by muted light, and the open door revealed a full-length mirror in which she caught a glance of herself as she bent down to neatly set her pumps inside. It suddenly occurred to her: here she was traipsing around some stranger’s apartment in nothing but her underwear! A sexy wave of naughtiness shimmered through her. She smiled into the mirror, straightened up, stepped back to take herself in from head to toe.

For a moment she stood there, studying the thin, lightly-tanned blonde in the cream-colored underwear. The skimpy bra she wore was more for decoration that support. Her panties were sexy, low slung, high arching sides had reduced them to a narrow band that rode just below the ridge of her compact hips. The silken underpants were opaque, yet thin enough so you could see the shadow of a matted bush of pubic hair through the curving fabric of the reinforced gusset pulled taut between her bare legs.

She regarded her body dispassionately. The slim, softly curved shoulders, arms that were straight and slender, a slightly tapering torso, almost hipless, like a boy’s. She was pleased. Not a spare ounce of fat from bra to panties, although there was just the slightest curve to her once perfectly-flat belly, a mere contour that flowed down into the more pronounced curve of her softly-mounded pubis. Her thighs were lean and firm-muscled, smooth legs tapering in slim feminine contours to long and narrow feet.

As she stood looking into the eyes of the girl in the mirror, she leaned forward and reached up behind to unhook her bra. The loosened cups fell away to free a pair of petite breasts: small, tautly mounded disks, they might have been the tight, maidenly breasts of a young girl. “Darling little boobs,” Robin had crooned, filling Sheila with a flood of unexpected pride. Like many small-breasted women Sheila fretted about the skimpy endowment nature had bequeathed to her. In time she had resigned herself that her adolescent t**s were to be a life-long feature. But it was only when Robin had shown such genuine appreciation of what she had to offer in the bosom department, that Sheila began to look upon her modest beasts in a new light. A hand came up to give herself an idle caress, splayed fingers scissoring the rubbery n****e.

Now she gave the blond girl in the mirror an encouraging smile and leaned over to run her panties down, slipping out of them, adding them to the growing pile of clothing accumulating on the third shelf.