Are You Ready

Are you ready?

A short tale by Snowdog

You arrive home late evening and on your desk propped up against the PC is a plain white envelope. On the front is just your name ‘Fiona' written by a fountain pen in red ink. The handwriting is flowing and bold and your name is underlined. You study it in your hands. It feels expensive and it elicits your curiosity.

After considering it for a moment weighing the envelope in your hand you turn it over. It is sealed with red wax. Unusual. There is some sort of coat of arms stamped in the bright red wax and all you can make out is what looks a wolf or a dog on the outline of a shield. It takes just a moment to open the letter and you take out a single sheet of matching paper folded in two. There is an unusual fragrance coming from the paper, not unpleasant but like nothing you have ever encountered before. You push this sensation from your mind to turn your attention to the message.

In the same handwriting the red ink reads…

“Aloha Fiona,

Are you ready to trust me? I wonder. Well let's see. Outside will be a white car with dark windows and a small Scottish flag above the front wheel arch. Get inside if you dare and I will take care of you.

It will take you to the Caledonian Hotel in town. Let someone know where you are, you will be shown to room 110. Take your phone with you and ask a friend to phone you in two hours to check you are all right.

Are you ready? I wonder.

I wish only the best for you.

Dog.”

You are surprised. Your mind fills with questions. How did he find me? What cheek, we only talked yesterday. Who does he think he is? You find you are getting a little angry at the intrusion. As you sit on the edge of your bed you look at the now discarded note on your desk. ‘Are you ready?' it said. The anger subsides and you start to wonder yourself “Am I ready?”

Without really thinking about it you look up the hotels number and then text your best friend. You look at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You wonder what you think you are doing. He could be any sort of a weirdo, but he didn't sound like one. Well not too much anyway. Besides you can look after yourself. You go outside the adrenaline starting to flow and the excitement building. There as you knew it would be is the car, a white Lexus.

You look for a moment and as you go to open the door, “Let me do that for you Miss Fiona.” A large young man in a dark suit opens the door for you.

You jump a little at first and then ask “Dog?”

“No Miss, my name is Walker. I will take you to your rendezvous.”

You tilt your head a little as you look at him for a moment. “Thank you”. You get inside the car and the door closes with a comforting thud. You make yourself comfortable in the leather seat and you start to wonder what to expect. Questioning Walker is no use; he politely tells you he is unable to answer any questions for you. It is only a few minutes until you arrive at the hotel and Walker opens the door for you.

Almost immediately a bellboy meets you “Please follow me Miss Fiona.” You silently follow as he escorts you through the lavish hotel lobby to the elevator and up one floor. He lets you out of the elevator first and then leads you to room 110. He stops and opens the door. You look for some change for him but he only tells you “That has all been taken care of Miss” and leaves you standing outside all alone now.

Gingerly you enter the room. You expect to find a bedroom but instead you enter what looks like a drawing room. You guess you must be in a suite but you can't be sure. “Dog?” you whisper. It is almost like you don't want to find him there. No response. “Dog” you call a little louder this time. Still there is no reply. “Fuck him” you think, “I don't need a weirdo annoying me”.

You enter the room determined to put this person called Dog in his place, close the door behind you and on the drawing room on a table in the middle of the room there is a vanity case and another envelope. You approach a little warily, this is all making you feel, what? You are not sure. Uncomfortable? Sort of but more excited, the anticipation but you are not sure of what. Sort of scary but intriguing, like watching a scary movie. Wanting to hide your eyes but desperate to know what is happening. You smell the same strange scent that you did before. It seeps into your consciousness and you feel the feeling of anger ebbing and you focus on the stylised script on the envelope.

There seems to be no one around so you pick up the envelope. It looks the same as the first with your name in ink on the front and sealed in the same way on the back.

“Aloha Fiona,

It pleases me you are here. Go to the bathroom. In the vanity case you will find some underwear and behind the door there are some clothes I have selected for you. Put them on.

The go to the window and wait.

Dog xx”

“Typical” you think “wants me to dress up all kinky”. You take a moment to make your mind up whether to get out of here or go to see what is waiting for you. It certainly was not your intention to even consider a request like this but you find your self becoming intrigued like a little girl wondering what is in the birthday present. You notice that your breathing is a little faster and you feel a little tingly at the thought of what might happen. What could happen?

Decided you pick up the vanity case and seeing the bathroom door open beside the front door you tentatively go inside. The bathroom is huge, all marble and a sunken bath. There is a dressing area and you set the case down on the seat there. Behind the door is a rather smart suit. You are puzzled. You expected something leather maybe PVC. You are starting to feel a little bruised mentally. Nothing is as you keep expecting it to be. The suit is dark blue with a fine pinstripe. You look at the label. Impressive and how did he know the size? You would only usually wear something like this to an interview but you hold it up against you. It is short but not as short as you expected, about four inches above the knee. Under the jacket is a black chiffon blouse. Plain but classic, nearly see through you note. Seems like he isn't a surprise all the time then. In the vanity case there is a set of blue underwear. The thong style panties are not too small but they are very sheer, matching the under wired front closing bra. They are well made but there are no labels. There is also a pair of sheer black hold-up stockings with a pair of dark blue court shoes.

It is freaking you out a little. You would have been more comfortable if it had been all kinky like you expected but you are not sure what to make of it all. You change and tidy your hair and spray some scent left by the sink. It un-nerves you that the clothes fit so well and not too tight either. How did he know? The shoes seem just perfect. Not what you would usually wear but you still feel comfortable and you feel elegant.

You walk out if the bathroom and over to the window your heels softly clicking on the wooden floor as your walk. Then you stand, not sure what will happen next. The curtains are open on the young night and you can see the lights outside. Cars and signs glowing in the night reflected in the wet of the rain that is now falling gently. You cannot see clearly as there is a net curtain protecting your privacy.

After just a few moments you notice the lights in the room start to dim. You look around but see no one and in a moment the lights are out. You feel your heart start to pound in your chest now. As you are nearly ready to call it a day and leave you hear a voice. It is low but very clear. It reminds you of Sean Connery. It talks slowly but with purpose.

“Look out of the window Fiona.”

“But who are….” You start to say.

“Listen to me and do as I ask you Fiona.”

“Look….”

“Don't speak till I ask you Fiona.” The voice leaves no question it is to be obeyed and you go silent. You look out of the side of your eyes desperately trying to see who it is. What they look like.

“You know who I am Fiona. You will do exactly as I ask and when I ask you. If you do not I will leave and I don't think you want that Fiona, not really. Now draw back the net at the window Fiona.”

You certainly will not comply with this mans wishes. But; it could do no harm, could it? Just to see what this all about and then you can leave. The voice seems to be closer now almost like a whisper in your ear. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you draw back the net to reveal the shimmering night scene before you. You look out seeing the office building across from you. Cleaners at work, some working late. People going about they're business in the street a floor below you. Cars and buses making they're way about town.

“Very good Fiona now open the window an inch or two.”

You feel your body alert, a slight sweat on your back and your breathing quick. You open the window and you feel the cool night air rush in contrasting the warm room. You feel your nipples react to the slight chill and the hairs on your arms stand on end.

“That is perfect Fiona.” You feel like you can feel warm breath on your neck like a gentle caressing kiss, as you hear the voice but you cannot sense the presence of the owner of the voice. It's like a ghostly voice. Your mind starts to swirl with the thoughts that flood in.

“Bare your neck for me Fiona.” Your hand hooks the hair from your neck pulling it to the side. You jump a little as you feel something placed around your neck then you steady your nerves. You hear the jingle as a buckle is fastened and you realise that it is a dog collar that encircles your vulnerable neck. You feel it close around you but not too tight just firm. Still you have no sense of the person who is doing this to you. It is like a disembodied voice, almost supernatural it seems. You can smell the new leather over your scent and you swallow feeling the caress of the restraining band as you do so.

“It suits you Fiona. Now slip the jacket from your shoulders, let it slip to the floor.”

You slip the jacket off your shoulders as instructed and shiver as it falls, the gentle breeze cutting through you in contrast to the warmth at your back. You hold your hands about you. Feeling their warmth but perhaps protecting your self also.

“Can you see all the people out there Fiona?”

“Yes” you answer. You are feeling very vulnerable now.

“Anyone could look up here and see you Fiona. Perhaps they are now. Men imagining what they would like to do to you. Women too perhaps. They could be looking as I speak Fiona. Their eyes upon you, wanting you, desiring you. How does it make you feel Fiona?”

You shiver but this time not from the chill. “It makes me feel I want to run.” Your mind is spinning, what does the voice want? What is going on? You feel like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car. Horrified and scared but unable to stop the events that have been set in motion.

“Lower your arms Fiona. Let them see if they want to.”

You lower your arms the material rustling as you do so. You become very aware that the blouse is semi-transparent, self-conscious.

“Starting at the top Fiona, undo the buttons on your blouse.” You hesitate slightly. “Do it now Fiona.”

Your fingers go to the top button and reluctantly undo it. “Excellent Fiona. Now the rest.” The next one follows and slowly you start to feel the cool air upon your skin, as the buttons are undone. You look down as you do this. To see what you are doing or in shame, it is hard to tell? You pull out the blouse from your skirt and it is now open. You are not quite exposed but not far from it. You feel invisible eyes upon you but can't be sure where they are or if they really are. You feel the goose bumps on your skin and you are aware of your chest rising and falling in the luxurious bra that holds you comfortingly.

“Touch your breasts Fiona.” The voice commands. As if it is happening to someone else you feel your right hand cup your left breast. The soft material against your fingertips, the touch ever so light. You feel like it is someone else who caresses you and you close your eyes. A finger follows the upper edge of your breast touching the smooth flesh and sending a warming shiver down your spine. Your head falls back as your finger slips just inside the cup and runs back up your breast.

You feel the warm breath against your neck yet again, “Caress your nipple, tell me how it feels.”

The thoughts of other eyes watching disappear for the moment as you pass the palm of your hand softly over your nipple. You draw in your breath as you do this. “It feels hard; sensitive.”

You keep caressing unable to stop yourself now. You stroke the skin of your bare stomach as your right hand continues to massage your breast through the flimsy material of your bra. You feel the hardness of your nipple pressing, urgently into your palm. Your blouse is falling open now.

“Tell me how you feel Fiona.”

“I feel warm inside. I feel sensitive. Shit I feel sexy. Horny.”

“You are sexy Fiona. Don't stop touching yourself. Someone may be enjoying you.” This makes you gasp as you realise what is happening. That someone else might be watching you. But you don't stop. You can't stop even though you desperately want to. You press your legs together trying to apply pressure to your now gently swelling mound. You hear the gentle swish of nylon as your thighs press together.

“You are nothing but a slut Fiona. A tease. You want those yes upon you don't you?”

“No, really I don't.” Your eyes are still closed as you feel yourself more alive than you have ever before.

“Yes you do Fiona. Look at you. You can't stop yourself.” You know the words the voice speaks are the truth.

“No, I don't.” You deny it but you know it is true. You are acting like a tramp, a common tease. What has come over you? You don't care just now. The thought you might regret this later is pushed from your mind and your hands continue their relentless progress over your body.

“Undo your bra Fiona, let your breasts free. Let them see your tits if they want you slut.”

As if in a dream you open your eyes as your hands move to the clasp between your now heaving breasts. You feel as if you are being smothered and you have to free yourself. The moan of relief as your breasts are no longer held is loud. You can't believe it is coming from your mouth. But as you look at your self your fingers start to roll your nipples. Then pulling at them it feels like someone else's hands are assaulting you.

“Look out of the window Fiona. See all those people.” You force yourself to look for the invisible eyes. You see people in the office. Is that man looking at you? You can't tell. You feel ashamed as you pull gently on your nipples.

“Slip your hand inside your skirt you cock tease.” Your right hand now slips from your breast and the fingers work themselves inside the waistband of your skirt. You push down and with your forearm inside your skirt you can rub your pussy through the sheer material of your thong.

“Are you wet slut?” you mumble that you are.

“I said are you wet?” you are surprised at the tone of the voice and immediately reply.

“Yes.” Your blouse has slipped down off your shoulders and is bunched around your waist and hips as your right hand is now trying to slip inside your underwear.

“Look at you, you're a dirty little slut aren't you?”

“No I'm not” you reply, but with no conviction. You are past trying to understand what has come over you. A bag is thrown on the floor in front of you. It lands with a soft thud as though it's made of something like velvet.

You feel the kiss like sensation on your neck as the voice speaks once more. “Pick up the bag Fiona.”

Reluctantly taking your hand from your skirt you bend down and pick up the bag. You feel your now responsive breasts hang slightly as you retrieve the bag. A ribbon tied in a bow closes it. The bag feels a little weight in your hands and you hear the chink of metal as you stand up and feel the warm underside of your breasts falling back against your cold rib cage.

“Open it Fiona, find out what is inside.”

You pull the ribbon bow and slip your hand inside the bag. You feel what seems like a pair of handcuffs and something smooth and just a little bigger than a large lipstick, about half as long and about three times the diameter. It is cone shaped at each end and totally smooth. You can stop yourself from feeling the silky smooth metallic surface.

“Slip it in your pussy you slut.”

Without hesitation now your hand once again slips inside your underwear and you slip the object into your now gently lubricated and swollen pussy.

“Now take the Cuffs out Fiona.” You are surprised to find two pairs and you pull them out. “Attach one pair to the ring at the top of the window Fiona.”

You take the cold steel cuffs in your hands and move loser to the window. On your tiptoes you stretch up and insert the end of one pair of the cuffs through the metal ring that now see there. Your breasts press gently against the freezing window pane cooling the warm flesh. Your nipples push against the smooth unyielding glass as your fix the cuff securely. You feel relief as your calves relax and you step back slightly seeing an imprint of your breasts in the condensation on the window.

“Now cuff your hands Fiona and make it firm.” You feel the tears build now as you feel compelled to follow the instructions and you slip the cuffs on and hear the clip shut and then the grate of the ratchet as you tighten them. Your emotions seem to be on a roller coaster. “Well done. Now cuff yourself to the window Fiona.” Once again you step forward and raising your hands you slip the hanging cuff around the shiny chrome chain joining your cuffs together. The click of the catch sounds like a heavy door closing to you.

“You have done well Fiona.” Almost immediately you feel the intruder in your pussy start to feel cold against the now boiling hot intensity of your pussy. “Now rub your nipples on the window Fiona.” A chill goes down your spine as you imagine that the lips that belong to the caressing voice kiss the nape of your neck.

God, you feel yourself pushing against the cold wet pane. The cold in your pussy makes you hotter! “What the fuck is happening!” you think. But you find that you want your nipples played with to feel a pressure upon them. It's like an unbearable itch that you must have relieved. The glass doesn't allow any abrasion to give relief and you find yourself rubbing your breasts, now cold and wet from the condensation, against the glass in a desperate attempt to get that wonderful relief that you crave. At the same time you are trying to rub your thighs together to generate some friction in your now chilled but burning pussy.

It is a fine sight to behold and though you are past caring one or two passers by have to look twice but can't believe what they are seeing and carry on about their way. You feel the metal tube in your pussy start to vibrate, it is like a pulse that goes steadily through you and reverberates through your whole body. The closest you have come to it is when you were once at a concert next to the loud speaker and you felt your whole body vibrate as the sound pulsed through it.

As the pulse intensifies you feel the cold metal tube start to change. On one pulse it gets longer and returns to normal on the next it gets thicker and returns. You wish for it to be deep inside you but it would slip out if your panties had been removed. You've never been so grateful they haven't but you desperately try to manoeuvre it deeper inside with no real success as you are trying at the same time to achieve relief for your now throbbing nipples. Slowly the pace increases.

Then you hear the voice once more. Unexpected this time it makes you jump. “I will be in touch Fiona, count on it. I'll send the bell-boy up in half an hour or so.”

You look round but can't see anything. The pulse increases once more and all you hear is the door opening and being left open. As you do your best to hold off the building frustrations that pulse through you, the last thing you note is a shaft of light illuminating you from the open door to the lobby. Then you are overcome once more by more urgent passions.