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Part 3: Chelsea Hotel No.2
I need you, I don't need you
and all of that jiving around
I spent ages the next morning trying to decide what to wear to work. I had tossed and turned all night, images of Suzanne floating through my mind. Even though I was incredibly frustrated and aroused, I didn't masturbate as, strangely, I thought it wouldn't be at all satisfying.
Finally, I selected a filmy black lace bra, sheer black pantyhose, black skirt and a cream silk blouse with a short jacket. Slipping into high heels instead of my usual Docs, I critically examined myself in the mirror and blushed a little when I saw the dark shadow on my blouse caused by the black bra underneath.
Nancy waved the cover under my eyes as soon as I got in as I was removing my blue raincoat and I blushed deeply when I saw it. "You look fantastic," Nancy smiled. "This will cause some talk and some sales." She stopped and looked me up and down. "Big date tonight with your boyfriend?" she asked shrewdly.
"A date after work but not with Lenny," I stammered and started to walk away.
"Oooh," she called after me, "tell me more."
Suzanne was warm but distant with me all day as we worked and I felt a small sense of relief that she wasn't going to mention the previous night. Strangely, I felt very disappointed as well but I focussed on my job and assisted her throughout the morning. When she left for lunch with someone, I felt jealous but kept working, eating a sandwich at my desk.
Suzanne returned mid afternoon and immediately vanished into her office until the evening when I was the only one left in the office, everybody else departed for the weekend. I switched my computer off, tidied my desk, and slipped into my raincoat and, taking a deep breath, I nervously tapped on Suzanne's door.
She was seated at her desk, smoking a cigarette and gazing out the window at the lights spread before her. Turning, she tapped some ash into the ashtray and coolly examined me. "Everyone left for the weekend?"
I nodded my heart pounding. "Yes," I croaked.
"Yes, what?" she snapped, stubbing the cigarette out while I looked at her in confusion. "I'll explain it once. When we are alone you refer to me as Mistress or Madame, even Milady is acceptable while I will simply call you slut. Understand?"
I looked at her open mouthed, my pantyhose wet from moment she said 'slut' and my knees weak and trembling. Suzanne leaned forward and cupped her face on her hand that rested on the desk, her dark eyes looking me up and down. "Of course," she said with a wintry smile, "I could be mistaken and you don't want me to own you. Nor do you want me to control you and tell you what to do every moment of your life. Yes, I could be terribly wrong and this could be a tragic mistake. You should yell at me in that provincial accent of yours, resign and, of course, slam the door on the way out."
The only sound in the room for a long moment was my ragged breathing as I trembled before her until she stood, walked in front of her desk and stood there with arms folded. "I think we both know," she said quietly, "that this is not a tragic mistake. Is it, slut?"
Suzanne's cold voice echoed in my head, that delicious feeling of submission washed over my whole body and me tingled. My face burned but I understood myself better at that moment then I had ever before. "No, Mistress,' I croaked, face burning and body trembling.
Suzanne smiled slightly and she calmly arranged herself in the visitor's chair, crossing her legs so the nylon of her hose rasped. "Strip down to your underwear, slut," she said calmly. I gasped as arousal, embarrassment and submission rolled over me and slowly undressed. Face burning I stood in front of her in my bra, sheer pantyhose and high heels as she looked me up and down. "Turn around slowly, slut," she said and, trembling I did. "Hands on your head," she snapped and I complied. "Lovely," she murmured to herself as I pirouetted before her. "Are you aroused, slut?”
"Yes Mistress," I murmured, face down as I twirled before her with my hands still on my head, knowing my breasts were jiggling in the black lace bra.
"Stand still. How do you know you are aroused, slut?"
"My vagina, Mistress," I answered hesitantly, "is moist."
"No," she interrupted me sharply. "Not vagina, cunt or pussy. Say it!"
"Mistress," I said in a low voice, face red, "my cunt is wet."
"Louder."
"Mistress, my cunt is wet." My voice rang in the room and she smiled at me in triumph.
"Come here and show me," Suzanne said as she extended her hand so it was a fist. "Hump yourself on my fist, slut." Face burning, my breathing rough and ragged, I straddled her fist and rubbed my nylon covered pussy against it while I kept my hands on my head. I almost came at her touch and I rose closer and closer to orgasm as she looked up at me as I writhed on her fist. "You are such a slut," she murmured and I gasped as the pleasure rose within me until she removed her hand. It was a loss, I was so close and she smiled cruelly at me. "You come when I say so. Remove the bra and get the scissors so you can cut the pantyhose. I want your pussy exposed. Quickly!" It felt strange walking through the deserted office in my pantyhose, heels and bra to get the scissors and stranger still to cut the crotch out of my pantyhose so my pussy was in the open.
My large breasts hung free as I stood before her. "On the desk," she snapped and I lay on it quickly. "Legs apart, I want to examine your cunt." I lay exposed as she looked but did not touch. "Nice plump lips but all this hair has to go, slut."
"Yes Mistress," I murmured, head turned away in my secret humiliation and my hair spreading on the desk.
"Put your raincoat on, slut. We are going." I struggled to do the raincoat up and Suzanne laughed when she saw how my breasts were squeezed together as I closed the buttons. Ordered to leave it undone below the waist, she suddenly pulled me to her and kissed me, her lips crushing mine as her tongue took ownership of my mouth. I felt her fingers brush my pussy as we stood there in that wild embrace and gasped when her fingers invaded me. "So wet," she breathed in my ear.
"Yes Mistress," I moaned.
Her finger danced on my mouth. "Taste yourself," she instructed as her finger slid in and out of my mouth. "Good slut," she whispered. "Now you will get to come, darling." Her fingers stroked and caressed my aching pussy as she held me in a tight embrace. Her lips crushed mine again as I rose closer and closer until I cried out with the power, the explosion of the type I had never felt before.
Suzanne made me play with myself in the darkness in the back of the taxi as we drove to her house in Chelsea . My clothes and my handbag had been left behind in a cupboard in her office and I was still dressed in the raincoat, ripped pantyhose and heels. I was sure the taxi driver knew something was going on but I kept stroking and caressing myself under the cover of the blue raincoat. Suzanne leaned over and kissed me once and I saw the drivers eyes widen in the rear view mirror. "Are you wet, slut?" she whispered softly in my ear, her warm breath caressing my neck.
"Yes Mistress," I whispered in return and she smiled in the darkness as London crawled past.
As we stood on the pavement looking up at her house, Suzanne said, "I call it the Chelsea Hotel ," and laughed. "Leonard Cohen," she explained when I looked puzzled. "I certainly have to educate you."
The house was warm and gorgeous but Suzanne didn't waste anytime showing me around. "The bathroom is in there," she said. "Run my bath. Now, slut!" she snapped and I rushed to do what she said, my raincoat rustling as I hurried. "Take that coat off," Suzanne said on my return. "I'll have a Gin and tonic, you'll find the drinks there." Practically naked while she remained clothed, I did as instructed and handed her the drink. As she sipped it, she pointed at the floor near her feet and I sank down onto the carpet. Slipping her shoes off, she sighed and offered me her foot. "I need a massage. Gently."
The bath was ready and she pulled herself to her feet. "The guest bathroom is there. You can have a quick shower as well as removing that hair," Suzanne said, glancing down at my pussy. "When you are finished, you will wait for me on your knees in my bedroom. Understood?"
"Yes Mistress," I said quickly and she stared deeply into my eyes.
"You will do everything I say, slut," she said, gently weighing my breasts with her hands. "The first time you don't do what I say or, worse, lie to me or disobey me, this is over, finished. Clear?"
I felt an immediate sense of loss and I knew I did not want this ever to end. "Yes, Mistress."
Feeling so vulnerable, so open and more naked than ever before with my smooth pubic mound and my protruding plump pussy lips, I knelt at the floor of my Mistress's bed. After an eternity, she swirled into the room in a black negligee, a glass of wine in her hand and her perfume washing over the room. "I prefer the room like this," Suzanne said as she dimmed the lights. "Remember that."
"Yes Mistress."
"Have you licked a woman before, slut?" she asked as she arranged herself on the bed and I shook my head. "I will teach you to please me, slut. You don't get to come again until I have got my fill. Come to me," she said softly, patting the bed and I lay beside her. "You look like a little girl with your bald cunt," she said, smiling and I blushed. "Still coy and I do enjoy your little blushes," she murmured as she lowered her face to mine and her lips tenderly caressed mine. After a few moments, she pointed down at her pussy and I slowly crawled down to begin my education.
Many hours later as I lay next to her in the dark listening to her deep breathing as she slept, I played the events of the night over and over in my mind. My fingers wonderingly touched my lips where the taste of my Mistress remained and I recalled the many orgasms I had helped her to reach while I remained denied, waiting for her instructions.
She stirred in her sleep and pushed against me and I snuggled against her thinking, as I fell asleep, that I was the luckiest girl alive and, maybe, tomorrow my Mistress may let me come.
After a late brunch, Suzanne looked me up and down. "I have to find something for you to wear. Follow me." I waited patiently as she rummaged through her wardrobe and she tossed me a pair of black jeans, a fisherman's pullover and socks and gym shoes. "Try those," she said and I pulled the jeans on without underwear and, although a bit loose around the waist and long in the leg, if I rolled them up I was presentable. The bulky fisherman's jumper hid my loose breasts and the shoes slipped on easily.
My blue raincoat completed the outfit and, self-conscious with no underwear, I followed my Mistress into the grey morning. The first stop was the hairdressers and with no input from me what so ever, Suzanne dictated how my hair s was to be cut and styled. I gasped when I saw my reflection; I looked so stylish, so elegant with my hair shorter. Next on the list was a beautician where a young gay guy made up my face to Suzanne's directions. Again, I was shocked as I gaped at the reflection.
"She's very beautiful," he said to Suzanne, fluffing my hair slightly as he studied the reflection.
Suzanne stared at the reflection. "I know," she said softly. "I know."
With the instructions on how to make my face up firmly in my raincoat pocket, Suzanne led the way into a lingerie boutique. "You will never buy M. & S. again," she said sternly as we wandered through the racks as she selected panties, bras and slips for me to wear.
"No Mistress," I said and the sales assistant looked sharply at us in surprise while Suzanne beamed proudly.
More shops and more clothes and I was trying a black leather skirt and top on when Suzanne suddenly appeared in the dressing room so I stood still while she inspected me. "Beautiful," she breathed. "Pull up the skirt so I can see your bald pussy, slut," she said softly and I immediately complied. I marvelled at how easily I now followed instructions but I also knew I wanted to, no needed to, as disobedience would cause me to lose Suzanne.
So I stood in the changing room of the busy store, displaying my newly shaven pussy to my new mistress, separated from the hubbub and eyes of the ordinary women who milled outside by one thin curtain.
Suzanne insisted I wear the new leather skirt and top with new boots and my old favourite blue raincoat and, as we left the shops, I could not recall a moment in my life when I had been happier.
We lunched at a fashionable restaurant where everyone seemed to know Suzanne, dropping by the table to talk while frankly inspecting me. I said nothing unless spoken to and always answered carefully, as I didn't want to embarrass Suzanne.
"I'm very pleased with you," she said as she sipped her wine, a soft smile on her beautiful face.
"Thank you Mistress," I said, eyes lowered. "I try hard to please you."
"Why?"
I thought carefully but the answer was obvious. "Because I care for you very deeply, Mistress."
Suzanne sipped her wine thoughtfully. "Thank you," she said simply. We sat in silence for a moment and then she cleared her throat. "There is one thing," she said softly. "I am not going to demand it, I'm going to ask you and you can say no to me this one time." I looked up and saw she was misty eyed. "Will you go to a speech coach to remove your accent?"
"Would it please you, Mistress?"
"Yes," Suzanne said and then said in a rush, "It will make it easier for you to fit in for our future life." She tailed off and waited anxiously.
"I will do it, Mistress," I said.
"Are you sure because from what Nancy said you were very enthusiastic about keeping your Mersey identity?"
"That was before I met you, Mistress. You are my identity now," I said simply and a single tear rolled down Suzanne's cheek.
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