** Please read my disclaimer as part of my biography for a better understanding of this story
*
I stood at the bottom the path that lead its way in familiar fashion up to the front door of my house. It's straight, regular slabs of creamy coloured sandstone cut their way in a straight line through the recently laid turf that covered the rest of my postage stamp front garden. It was a warm and balmy night. The orange glow of the sodium streetlight a few yards away seemed to leech the life from the surroundings making everything look sickly coloured and unnatural. The faint sound of traffic from the main road brushed against my senses, barely registering in my consciousness as the hushed murmur of the passing cars struggled to reach the quiet cul-de-sac where I lived.
I had been staring intently at the door for a few moments, savouring the anticipation welling up inside me. The windows to the front were all dark save for the pale reflection of the street light. I looked about me. The road was deserted. Cars in silent respite stood adorning their owners' driveways or decorating the kerbs, their sides tilted up, abandoned almost as they had been left mounted on the pavement, each one awaiting the morning ready for the stop start race of the daily commute or the five minute dash of the school run. The whole cul-de-sac was in a reclusive slumber. Everyone was safely locked away in their homes, shut off from the world, encapsulated in their ignorance, totally unaware of the events that were about to unfold a few doors away from them.
I stepped forward softly up the path. As I came to the door I paused for moment, listening for any sounds coming from within. The door itself was a dark wooden build with small panes of frosted glass built into the top half allowing a distorted view of the small hallway that led to the door of the lounge a mere 6 feet away directly ahead. To the left was the entrance to the tiny kitchen so in keeping with brand new starter homes of the time.
I turned left and continued walking along the path, past the kitchen window until I came to another path that bisected my end-terrace house with that of my neighbour. The path ran between the two houses and afforded entrance to the back gardens of the houses either side of mine. Looking to my right the path continued into the shadows that the light from the street couldn't fully penetrate. Although my eyes were still trying to adjust I could make out in the gloom the side of my house extending away some 40 feet before the line was broken by that of the wooden fencing that lined my garden. I took a step along the path and moved between the houses, engulfed by the darkness. A slight echo sounded as I walked, the walls acting as an amplifier for every sound made in the passageway. I was soon at the gate. It had a basic hinge latch which tended to stick however I had taken the opportunity to un-hinge the latch earlier that evening and leave the gate slightly ajar. So it was when I came to the gate and pushed slightly it swung open silently (I had also oiled the hinges at the same time as I'd arranged the latch). Now all I had to hope for was that nothing had been disturbed inside my front room. I crept forward past the now opened gate to the Patio doors which acted as the entrance to and from the garden from the lounge area. The curtains were closed however I noticed with some satisfaction that there was a thin sliver of light breaking through them illuminating a small patch of the patio in front of me.
I stood in front of the patio doors and squatted down so that that my eyes were level with the slight parting in the curtains that I had so carefully arranged earlier. Peering through I could see right into to the room and although it was a limited view it offered me the sight that I was most keen to see...
In the middle of the room was the basic wooden chair that I had placed there not more than three hours earlier. However now, unlike earlier, the wooden chair was occupied and sat upon it was Briona. She was a vision to behold. She had followed my instructions to the letter and was now firmly on the path to her full enlightenment. She was wearing a sheer black Basque, nothing too fancy, the finish was smooth and silky and gave off a subtle sheen in the light of the room. The tightly fitted torsolette accentuated her figure by cinching in at the waist and pushing her breasts up and forward. I gazed longingly through the gap in the curtain at her slowly rising and falling chest, the low cut brassiere of the basque allowing ample cleavage to bulge forth in pale, smooth mounds. Her wrists were behind her as her arms hung over the chair, cuffed tightly as directed. The shiny steel was clearly visible, cutting into the long velvet gloves she had been instructed to wear.
Her ankles were tied firmly with the white rope provided and several neat wraps bound her stockinged legs together whilst her stilettoed feet were motionless but perfectly aligned resting on the floor. I noted with some satisfaction that she was wearing the four-inch black heels that I had instructed her to buy the previous week. I made her promise only to wear them for me and at no time was she allowed to be seen out in them or in the presence of anyone else.
She had expertly secured the black, silken blindfold about her head, rendering her sightless. The tight knot at the back of her dark raven hair caught the light as she nervously moved her head about in small darting movements trying to pick up any sound of my arrival.
To finish the ensemble, the
Pièce de résistance,
was the large black, fat, rubber ball gag which was stuffed firmly in her mouth and tied with a leather strap to the back of her head causing her jaw to distend downwards as her cherry red lips wrapped themselves so tightly around it's circumference. I knew she had been there a while. I glanced at my watch. In the dark I had to adjust the angle of my wrist to find any reflective light. It was 10:15pm. I had told her to be ready for me at 10pm. Looking back inside I could see by now a small, delicate string of saliva was hanging from her chin with more just visible: a thin film of glistening drool, around the edges of the gag where her lips met the rubber.
I held my gaze for a good 5 minutes longer, savouring the view of her waiting for me as she sat nervously in anticipation of my arrival. She looked magnificent and I was well pleased with what I saw and also what she had done. Despite all of the waiting and anticipation I noticed that Briona's breathing was slow and regular, almost relaxed. Too relaxed I thought! In a moment of pique I decided to try and shock her out of her passive state. Stepping back I grabbed a handful of loose gravel from the garden in my hand and gently threw them against the window as I stooped back down to view her bound form.
Instantly she jerked upright. Her head span round to the direction of the sound which came from a wholly unexpected direction. She would be expecting me through the front door and in via the lounge door to her right. Instead the noise was to her left and was not what she anticipated. The saliva hanging from her chin swung freely from side to side as her head moved suddenly. I saw her chest rising and falling quicker now so I scratched the window with my finger nails. Again, she jumped slightly. Her fists balled as she squirmed on her seat as her chest and shoulders heaved rapidly now, her breasts bulging against the confines of her basque. Through the window I could almost hear the pressured hiss of her rapid breathing emanating from her flared nostrils. I stood my ground a little longer without making any more sound. I glanced at my watch again. The hands displayed 10:25. I would give her another 5 minutes before I went in through the front door. As I watched the stunning girl captive in my living room, her eyebrows furrowed in a wave of anxiety above the blindfold, I marvelled at how, in a very short space in time (about 6 weeks) I had manage to convert Briona into the willing slave displayed before me....
I had met Briona at the Christmas party of a call centre company I worked for. I was in the IT department and she was an account manager for one of the automotive contracts we had at the time. She was relatively new to the organisation which was about 100 strong at that point and I had never met her owing to the fact that the IT department was in a separate building on the other side of the provincial town where we worked. Despite this there were plenty of social activities and events going on all the time. The company was predominantly about sales and attracted a lively, young and fairly outgoing group of employees who truly exemplified the ethic of "work hard and play hard".
I, myself, had been with the company around two years and pretty much knew everyone there so it was with some surprise that as I sat down at my designated seat to be met with someone I didn't know. We both sized each other up as we adjusted our seating, napkins and the like before she offered a hand to me across the table.
"Hello," She smiled warmly. "My name is Briona".
She was very well spoken, her accent was classic RP and had the air of a public school education. I guessed she was about 26 or so, a couple of years younger than I was. She had shoulder length black hair which was cut straight and had the vaguest hint at a bob. The invitations demanded Black Tie so she wore a dark blue velvet ball gown which was off the shoulder and quite low cut. I found myself involuntarily glancing at her breasts which filled the bodice part quite generously as we shook hands.
"Hello Briona." I replied looking squarely into her bright blue eyes. "That's a Beautiful name".
"Thanks!" She blushed. "It's Celtic. My Grandmother was Irish."
I introduced myself formally to which she cheerfully repeated my name.
"I must admit to not recognising you," I said apologetically. "Are you new here?"
"Yes!" She exclaimed. Her eyes grew wide excitedly. She seemed quite ebullient every time she spoke. Her words spoke in joyful optimism, almost childlike in her innocent yet excited candour.
"I've only been here two weeks", she continued.
"A pleasure to meet you Briona".
For the rest of the evening we talked freely and openly. From my conversations with her I managed to ascertain that this was her first job in an office environment as she had previously worked with horses all her working life. The long hours as a groom for the local landholder (who was also a member of the local shire hunt) and the dismal salary meant that she couldn't sustain her lifestyle. She lived away from home in a cottage with two other girls (also grooms) and was struggling to manage the rent every month. Hence the move into office work. She had a degree, was originally from just north of London and loved dogs!
The evening went really quickly. When seated on a table of many guests, especially at a Christmas party it's normally polite to chat to
all
the people in the immediate vicinity of where you are sat. On this occasion though, myself and Briona just sat and talked the evening away lost in our own little world, oblivious to those around us.
When the music started up we both ventured onto the dance floor and again continued chatting away over the loud cacophony of the DJ. The ball gown she wore was long and narrow but had a slit from ankle to knee. I did notice that on times she had an occasion to twist or swirl on the dance floor the hem of the dress would flare out slightly to reveal barely black hosiery and a nice pair of heels , probably about 3 inches I estimated. I myself am 6'2" and with the addition of her heels she stood just a few inches shorter than me.
I have a penchant for girls in high heels. To me they accentuate the beauty of the female form in particular, the legs. And I will quite readily confess that I
do
appreciate a nice shapely leg. As a full bloodied male from what little I could see, I quickly and duly noted that Briona did, indeed, possess a fine pair.
In keeping with all other parties and events that the company organised the celebrations continued well into the night. By about 3am in the morning most of the revellers had either gone to bed or caught a taxi home. In spite of the close bond we had formed during the evening meal we did eventually go our separate ways and I spent a lot of time socialising with the members of my team whilst Briona was with her own team members trying to lay down some bridges of her own. Before too long, however it was time to go and we found ourselves waiting for our respective Taxi home. We were both quite tipsy from the evening, but I would not say that we were falling down drunk or any fashion thereabouts. The cold winter frosted our breaths as we stood shivering at the entrance to the hotel. The sky was cloudless and with the hotel being so remotely located in the country the shroud of light pollution was gone leaving a breathtaking view of the heavens. The sharp, brilliant points of light littered the dark inky blackness, a thousand diamonds scattered across a velvet carpet.
"Stunning isn't it?" she gasped looking upwards at the infinite panorama above.
"Absolutely!" I exclaimed back, my breath forming clouds of icy vapour rising gently into the air, illuminated by the diffuse light emanating from the Hotel entrance.
"I always wondered what they were called." She waved her arm vaguely above and in front of her.
"Well that one over there," I leaned over to her and directed an outstretched finger to a constellation just above a line of trees far in the distance "is the constellation of
Orion
