Breaking Cliches Ch 04

Note: This story, like most of the Breaking Clichés stories, is slightly edgier than my other stories. This one veers more towards the exhibitionism & voyeurism side rather than the light domination & bondage of the previous stories.

*****

"Wanna choose what I wear so that I can place you in a state of deep need just before I leave for class?" said Scarlett, waking me up. It was probably very late, as I knew that her only morning class began at 10 o'clock this semester. As I looked at her, naked and backlit from the only window in the room, she seemed to glow. It took me a few moments before I was coherent enough to nod. Sitting up in the bed, I asked her to show me a few bras I might like. After a few bras, all of which were remarkable, I was awakened enough to pay attention. I settled on a very fine white bra that looked like a collection of large snowflakes. It wasn't very good at supporting the weight of Scarlett's massive breasts, but she had given me the power to choose.

Once she had it on, she reached down to her drawer to get the matching panties. "Who said you were going to wear panties?" I asked groggily.

Scarlett grinned. "Want me to make Fernand turn bright red again?"

I grinned, remembering the time she had worn a short skirt with no panties, and had chosen to sit in the front row... "No, I have something else in mind. Find the pair of strange jeans that you have. The blue ones with white lingerie."

"These?" she asked a minute later.

"Yep. Put these on."

I didn't know who she had found to make these jeans. Scarlett was very good at modifying her clothes, but this was amazing. The pants had begun their life as a regular pair of blue jeans, but had since then been extensively modified. More than half of the original material ha been cut out, and intricate white lace put there instead. With the additional white lace roses sown on the remain jeans, the effect was stunning. As she stood, turning this way and that, letting me admire her, I said "There you go. All ready for school."

"Haha! Very funny!"

"Ok then. Wear the red shirt I love so much."

When she slipped it on, the result was magnificent. The shirt itself was rather simply cut, but the material was heavy and supple, hugging Scarlett's curves very closely. "Gods you're gorgeous. Remind me again why I'm not going to force you into my bed and fuck you again?"

"Now why would I do that?" she teased, walking towards the bed. Suddenly, she looked at her watch and said "Oh my! Look at the time! I have to run!"

I let myself fall on the bed before shouting "Little tease! Little bitchy tease!"

I heard her laughing as she walked to the door, shouting a "I love you." before going out. I grinned despite my frustration and my erection. I thought about the first time we had shared that precious "I love you", a few weeks after our first meeting. I remember being so nervous with my other girlfriends before saying it for the first time. Yet with Scarlett, it had felt so natural, so normal... We were eating with at a nice restaurant and as we waited for our deserts, we stared at each other for a long moment, and I simply said it. She grinned, kissed me long and said that she loved me as well. Simple as that, no surprise, no stress. I was smiling as I went down the stairs to eat a late breakfast.

Much later that day, I learned something knew about myself. Despite the fact that I had always liked henna art, especially on beautiful women, I never would have thought that I would be willing to watch the process for hours. Yet I was now completely fascinated by the demonstration in front of me. Scarlett was lying on her back on a massage table, completely naked, but the woman working on her body wasn't a massage therapist.

Instead the woman was an acquaintance of Scarlett's that, while not being exactly a close friend, had nonetheless agreed to a very big and rather intimate project. For the past three hours, that woman had been applying very complex, very dense and stunningly beautiful henna designs and patterns on Scarlett's body. All of Scarlett's body.

She had set her table and various implements in our living room, and the bright light from the sun was streaming right on Scarlett's body. Like a mentally retarded patient I found myself staring at the bar of shadow the window was throwing on her thigh, watching as it slowly crept downward to her knee, sending the henna paste in and out of the light. I knew just enough about psychology to know that I was in a sort of wakened trance, both aware and not aware of the world around me. Later, thinking back on this morning, I would be properly fascinated by the entire experience. I had drunk and feasted on Scarlett's beauty before, but never in such a contemplative fashion.

I had no idea what it was going to cost, and even though Scarlett had refused my offer to help pay for it, I would gladly have paid hundreds of dollars just to watch the whole process. The woman was a real artist, and she had taken a good twenty minutes just staring at Scarlett's body before applying the very first line. At first I thought that she was just a lesbian obsessed by my girlfriend's body. But as the lines bloomed and I saw just how well the designs fit with Scarlett's curves, I understood that she had been planning the entire thing in her head.

She had begun around Scarlett's leg tattoo, a fully black design consisting of an anklet, from which a chain rose, looping around her calf until it bloomed into black roses on her thigh. From this base, the henna art had itself bloomed down to her toes and then up her leg, around her waist and back down the other leg. Next, the woman had applied her dark lines directly over Scarlett's flawlessly shaven mound, and even down to her lips. The artist then began her upwards journey again, tracing mesmerizing patterns on my girlfriend's smooth belly, from her pubis to her navel and all around her waist, then up to her breasts.

The woman paused again as she looked at the task ahead. That was quite usual for most people. I'm not ashamed to say that her breasts were the first thing I noticed about Scarlett when I met her. In fact, it was my unconscious mind that did. Since then, I had seen the remarkable combination of that summer red dress and black Simone Perele Amour full cup bra a few times. Every time I did it took my breath away and reminded me of our first meeting. Me and Scarlett's I mean, not just me and her breasts.

Then again, meeting such explosive breasts for the first time was rather memorable. Very large, out of proportion to the rest of her body, they had captured my eyes and had drawn me to the woman behind them. Would I now be blessed with her in my life if she had decided to wear a more conservative attire that day? Grinning, I dismissed the idea; Scarlett never dressed conservatively. And for good reason...

Depending on what bra she was wearing, her breasts sometimes looked like fakes, looked like she had implants. But she didn't. In any case, when you took the time to really look at them, they certainly were big enough to be implants, but they didn't have the usual fake shape. By and large, most slender women with big implants ended up with breasts that seem to be bolted on. But despite her small frame, Scarlett's large breasts looked organic. Wide, large and thrusting forward, certainly, but they blended and moulded quite naturally on her torso.

By now, most of the work had been done with Scarlett lying on her back on the table. For some of the work on her breasts, the woman asked her to stand up to see how her breasts would fall and move. Her breasts didn't fall all that much, but they did move around as if possessed. The woman didn't make a single unprofessional comment about Scarlett's breasts, but I had seen a few unguarded expressions. I din't think she really was a lesbian, but at the same time, Scarlett's breasts would surprise and affect most people.

A few minutes later and Scarlett was back on the table as the woman worked on the top of her chest, her arms and shoulders, her neck and even parts of her face. The result was already stunningly beautiful, and I'm sure that when the process was going to be all done, it would be uniquely magnificent. After taking a deep breath and releasing it, the woman said that she would be taking a break before doing Scarlett's back.

As she took her pause in the backyard, sipping a creamy whisky, Scarlett stood up cautiously and looked up at me expectantly. She grinned as she saw my face, and slowly turned around. It took all my willpower not to bend her over and fuck her right on the table, and when she realized that I was just about ready to do that, her eyes widened and she caressed the front of my pants, feeling my erection.

Whispering, as the door between us and the artist was only a screen door, Scarlett said, "You have no idea how wet I am... I hope she didn't see it." Looking around and making sure that the woman was still outside, Scarlett leaned in and said, "Let's make a deal. I'll turn around, you'll push your cock all the way inside me once and pull out. If you can do that without pushing back in, I'll let you do anything you want with me once the henna paste has been removed..."

I groaned and turned her around. Scarlett bent forward over the table, pushing her ass towards me. Unzipping my jeans, I pulled my cock out and spat on its tip. Grabbing one of Scarlett's ass with one hand, careful not to touch the paste on her hip, I guided my cock against her pussy and pushed in. When I saw her buttocks spreading against my upper thighs, I groaned again, trying to control myself. The woman could walk back in at any second. As I pulled out, I was sure I would fail and fuck her again, but I didn't. As I put my cock back inside my pants, I began, "Oh yes little girl, tonight you're—"

But I stopped as the woman returned, seemingly unaware of our little stunt. Since Scarlett couldn't lay back on the table because of all the paste she had on her body, she would have to finish this standing up. After tying her long dark hair in a tight bun, Scarlett patiently waited until the woman was finally all done. All in all, it took about five hours of work and quite a few bottles of paste. We paid and thanked her, and when I returned to the living room, Scarlett had her arms up in the air and was turning around, letting me see her in all her henna glory.

And it was glorious. Nearly everything was made using the traditional black henna paste, but before finishing, the artist added many flourishes in a pure white paste. As she was working, she told us that it made some purists angry, but she believed that the contrast added to the overall effect. I agreed. It was stunning. To top it all, she glued about thirty small gems on Scarlett's body. Not real gems, of course, but still made of glass and not plastic. Most of them were red, but a few were dark green and blue. As Scarlett turned around, I was speechless. She looked like a goddess.

We had the rest of the day to relax at home, letting the paste on as long as possible. What we hadn't thought about was that she would have to remain completely naked all day long. Despite what would happen much later that night, I would always remember that day as sheer torture and sheer pleasure at the same time. Now that Scarlett had paste all over her body, and I really mean all over, we couldn't touch each other, let alone fuck!

On the one hand it was fun to watch her trying to remain standing and not sit, yet seeing her moving around all the time made her body that much more desirable. Standing still, Scarlett's body was stunning. Moving, she became a wonder of nature that I couldn't tear my eyes from.

About midway through the afternoon, as I watched her tattooed body as she moved in and out of the sunlight, a memory suddenly flashed in my head. One of the patterns on her back, a very intricate rose made up mostly of small birds, reminded me of a very similar tattoo. It took me a while to figure out where and when I had seen it, but then it popped; the Bird. That crazy, barely believable restaurant. I was pretty sure that one of the girls there had a similar tattoo... But all of a sudden the girl was forgotten, and I knew how I was going to get my real revenge on Scarlett for that dreadful, years-of-life-robbing night in the haunted house.

A while ago, Scarlett tricked me into going into this supposed haunted house after watching a horror movie at the cinema. Obviously, the house wasn't really haunted, but it had been rigged to look that way. After seeing what looked like a desiccated corpse in the long abandoned bedroom, I opened the door only to see it rise up from the bed. There had been a rope and simply pulley system attached to the door. But in the seconds before my rational mind made sense of this, my entire being had been blown to bits by an overdoes of terror.

It had been, of course, Scarlett's plan all along. Not to scare me per se, but to make sure I would enter a stage of near rage and fuck her into submission. I had, and she had enjoyed it thoroughly. A couple of weeks later, by way of an apology for the years of life I would never get back, she had invited one of her friends to our bed for my very first threesome. It had been amazing, and in fact it made up for the scare quite nicely. In fact, Scarlett's presence in my life was worth more than one of those scares. I hadn't told her that, of course. Instead, I told her that I had another plan in mind. It had been a lie at the time, but now I knew what I wanted; I was going to bring her to the Bird.

While Scarlett was outside the house in the rather private backyard, I made the call to the restaurant as soon as they opened for reservations and got one! I was lucky, given that it was Friday. I was also exceptionally lucky that they had kept my name on file. About four years ago one of my girlfriends, this one much older than me, had brought me there as a sort of experiment. She was a psychology professor and had wanted me to see that place at least once. It had been a singular experience, and it had made me realize that such places did exist in the real world. As a sociology major, Scarlett was going to be floored.

When she came back inside, she was curious about the grin on my face. I said, cryptically, "Do you mind if a lot of strangers we'll probably never meet again think I'm your sugar daddy?"

"What?" she replied, a lopsided smile on her lips, "You mean you're not?"

"Haha! You could make more money as a barmaid than I do at college!" I laughed, an old joke. "I'm serious; would you mind?"

"Complete strangers? Hmmm." she paused, thinking about it, looking glorious and sexy, naked and tattooed in front of me. "I think you'd be hard pressed to think of something I wouldn't do for you in front of strangers... Or do to you."

As she said that she moved closer to me and it was obvious that she wanted to have sex right now, despite the fact that we couldn't. Calling all my willpower, I stopped her. When my only explanation was that I had made dinner reservations at a restaurant, she was surprised, and suspicious. In the end, Scarlett liked surprises and eating out, so she stopped asking questions.

Later, with most of the paste already fallen off, I enjoyed the distinct pleasure of removing what was left with a damp cloth. The effect was magnificent. We then went up to her room (or was it now our room?) and I proceeded to select her clothes for the night.

I took my sweet time, making her stand up, turn around and making her put on a few things only to ask her to remove them. I also made her play with her hair, watching how different styles fit with some of her outfits. Soon I had a very hard erection and Scarlett teased me again, tempting me to join her on the bed. When she fell on her back, opening her legs, I closed my eyes and turned around. This had to stop! In the end I chose a Prima Donna Couture balconet bra, all in black lace, knowing that it was slightly see through. Over that she would wear a very fine, form-fitting black camisole, and above that, yet a another one. This one was very different though: it was very loose, utterly translucent with a gold tint and it went all the way down to the middle of her thighs.

Below, I chose a nice black satin thong under one of my favorite skirts; a very long and very opened black skirt which threatened to reveal everything when she moved. On either side, the skirt was cut almost all the way up, but thick laces of fin cloth were criss-crossed most of the way down, keeping it more modest. A bit. I asked her to make sure that the lacing wasn't too tight. The skirt would part with each of her steps, revealing most of her nude thighs in the process.

I grinned thinking about what a gust of wind would do... Even standing still, with the laces loosened up, we could see a lot of her thigh. Scarlett's real leg tattoo would be in display, but with the henna all over both her legs, the effect of the parting skirt was just amazing.

Before leaving, I rummaged in her extensive jewelry collection and found what at first looked like a very long necklace made of silver. Scarlett told me that it was actually a piece of arm jewelry. It was tied just above her bicep, highlighting her slightly toned body, and snaked around her arms many times before being tied around itself a few inches above her wrist. It was the perfect last touch.

Hopping in my car, we took a quick detour to my own home so that I could get the finest clothes I had. It wasn't super fancy, nothing I had was, but it would do for tonight. Back in the car again, we drove out and took the interstate. Scarlett looked at me, more intrigued than ever. "We have about an hour drive in front of us..." I could see that she was trying to figure out where I was taking her. She spent the next twenty minutes trying to tease the truth about our evening, and failed. She liked surprises, but she was also very curious and loved solving puzzles. She just had no chance of solving that one.

Later we pulled up to the restaurant, which wasn't announced at all. All we could see was a large industrial building. When I pulled up to the entrance, I nodded to the drab-looking doorman, he nodded back and indicated that I could enter the underground parking lot. I was a bit surprised and pleased; when I was here last time, the valet had directed us to the regular parking, outside behind the building. Apparently, a black '68 Charger opened a few doors!

The garage was really dark, with nothing out of the ordinary. Scarlett couldn't discover much by looking at the parking lot, but she did discover the one significant thing. "Hmm, sugar daddy indeed... While your car is by far the nicest one here, it's not the most expensive. Not by a long shot! Where are we?"

"You'll know soon enough." I replied tersely.

After parking the car we walked to the door and we both noticed that if it weren't for the luxury cars, the garage would look very rundown and dirty. All part of the look, I guessed.

Beyond the large metal door we found another world altogether. A deep red carpet, thick and lush, was only the first of an explosion of details that assaulted our senses after the bleak garage. The walls were covered with old and intricate wallpaper, and they were lined with actual oil lamps to light the long corridor. At the other end stood a young man and young woman. As we approached, the woman, about Scarlett's age, stepped forward with a dazzling smile. But her smile was not the only thing that was dazzling. Her incredibly tight, form fitting dress left nothing to the imagination.

She welcomed us gracefully, asking us if we had been here before and taking my identification. When she learned that it was Scarlett's first time, she grinned and bided her to enjoy herself. Scarlett's eyes, already wide, indicated that she was truly surprised when the woman added, "And you, sir, enjoy your escort."