Carol moaned as the alarm buzzed next to her bed. It was Saturday morning, and she was alone. Steve had a gig last night, and was either at his apartment or at some other woman's house. Even if he was at his place, she doubted that he was alone.
She swung out of bed and plodded off to get started on her morning routine. Ben would be there in less than an hour, and she wanted to be ready for him. Her bedroom was a mess. She made a mental note that her rocking chair needed to be put away. Then she remembered what an exceptionally good time she had had with it. And what a strange fantasy.
She found herself getting more interested in erotic tickling since she had been with Steve, despite her own dislike at being the victim. And that scene in the office. She was surprised that she had found such a young girl to be so desirable. She wondered if it had been a representation of her childhood friend.
She wasn't really sure about Steve seeing other women. All she did was combine the facts she knew and evaluate them as a mature adult. He was wild about women wearing qiana gowns, he played at gigs that brought him in contact with many women dressed that way, he was very good looking and quite a charmer, and usually did not come to her house after a gig. And, he loved to talk about the women he saw at gigs, so she knew he noticed them.
Like any woman, she was always a little bit afraid that one day he would announce that he had found another woman. Never before had she met a man that she could be so open with, who accommodated her sexual appetite with such care and understanding. She hated the thought of losing him.
But there was a flaw in their relationship. She knew that for many years his sex play had centered on fantasies about bondage tickling. He had admitted to her that he really hadn't had any satisfying opportunities to experiment with his fantasies until he met her. She was the first person he had discussed them with, and she had been willing to give it a try.
Sadly, what gave him so much pleasure was a complete turn-off to her. He had brought over his collection of articles from sex fantasy magazines and together they had read through them. She assured him that his lust for seeing a beautiful young girl suffering the agony of tickling torture was as good a basis for sexual enjoyment as any of the other kinky stuff people went in for. Better than some, as the victim really wasn't injured, and given the right girl, might very well enjoy it. She just wasn't the right girl.
He told her that before they had met he hadn't given much thought to spanking other than reading about it so often in those same magazines. That first night they had tried it on her had been awkward, but with a little practice he got very good at it. She had hoped that he could broaden the basis for his lust and get as turned on seeing her bound and suffering the stinging blows of a switch as he did tormenting her with a feather, but why should she expect him to change when she seemed to be so unable to?
That's why she had arranged that session for him with Teddi. She loved him, and wanted him to have the opportunity to fulfill his desires. She only hopped that in introducing them she did not end up losing him to her.
It was also the reason why she told him stories about the store. He loved to hear anything that suggested that women were enjoying the clothes she sold there. And, while most of what she said was true, she did exercise some editorial freedom to jazz it up a little. Like what she had said about Nan. Most of it was true, all except the part about tickling her ass. Nan really had been leaning over the counter, dressed in those sensuous pants, and she really had imagined herself doing it. But she hadn't. Perhaps it was unfair to please Steve at Nan's expense that way, but he sure enjoyed those stories.
One thing they did share was a passion for the sensual aspect of clothes. For him, it was the prospect that a woman might be incessantly tickled by the clothes she wore. For her, it was not that the things she wore tickled, but rather that they felt very, very good. The blatant visual sex appeal they exuded was a big plus as well. Beyond what the outside world saw, what she really enjoyed was to wear tight panties that played with her crotch, keeping her turned on as long as she could stand it.
Now, finished with her breakfast of yogurt, toast and black coffee, she decided to dress up a bit for Ben. Usually she wore the sort of things one would expect for doing housework in, like cutoff blue jeans and tee shirts. Her thoughts about Steve made her want to be naughty.
She had never thought of seducing Ben before. He was so young, and his mother was an old friend. But lately he had filled out a lot, and looked quite mature for a high school senior. Well, she thought, she could bait the hook, and wait to see if the fish were hungry.
She decided at once what to wear. She would look silly dressed in a gown, sort of like that air headed blond in that TV series who always wore fancy peignoir sets on her husband's farm. No, what she wanted was those very sexy bell bottom pants that Steve liked so much. And Ginger, and Nancy. Yes, they had been quite a hit. She had sold a dozen pair in the last two days.
She went to her bedroom and took the pants down from the closet. Then she unlocked the drawer where she kept all her wicked underwear. She picked over them the way most women would look for a pair of earrings. She wanted something stronger than the beaded one. She considered one with a full sized dong attached to the crotch, but decided that she did not want Ben to see her pull it out of her pussy, should things progress that far.
Finally she made up her mind. She chose one made of soft, shiny black leather, with a wide waistband that closed with laces through eyelets so that it hung onto her hips very tightly. The crotch consisted of a narrow leather strap that split into three pieces in front. The outer pieces were narrow and pulled up along the outside of her pussy. The center piece was a little wider, and pulled well up into her cunt. It even had a little V-shaped cut that went over her clit, so that the tip of the V dug down and rubbed along her clit when it got hard. She had made it carefully, so that it fit her perfectly without the buckles used on the store-bought variety which were so hard to conceal under street clothes.
First she powdered her crotch liberally with a nicely scented talcum powder, so that the leather would not bind on her skin. Then she slipped on the strange looking panty and laced it up. The three strips of leather held her cunt in a powerful grip, producing the constant stimulation that was so maddeningly arousing for her for as long as she wore it.
The she slipped on the pants and checked to see how she looked in the mirror. There was just a hint of a panty line, but it looked normal enough. The tight crotch of the pants felt nice and cool against her cunt lips now that they bulged out so much, and there was a very noticeable groove right between her legs. She hoped that it would get Ben's attention.
Having gone that far, she decided to indulge in nipple clamps. She chose a pair of small rings that were cut and had the ends flattened out. They were quite springy, and she spread the ends and clipped one onto each nipple so that the circular body hung down under the nipple. Her body shuddered at the wave of pain that shot through her when they first made contact, a feeling that she especially enjoyed. Then she slipped on a top that matched the pants, sleeveless but with a high neck that had two long strips of fabric attached to it that tied into a bow.
For shoes she chose a pair of very high platform pumps that tied to her ankles with thin leather straps. She would have preferred spike heels, but she guessed that walking around in the yard in them would be a problem.
She examined herself in the mirror one last time. She was the image of a sexy, mature woman out to have some fun. The shoes and even the neck tie gave just a hint of bondage. And no one could tell that under that slinky, shiny layer of fabric she was enduring a constant onslaught of intense sexual pleasure.
Just then she heard a knock at the front door. As she walked through the living room she was again amazed at how good her outfit felt. There was something about the way the slack folds of heavy nylon swirled around her calves that made wearing these pants unlike anything she had ever felt.
Just as she reached out to open the door she felt a pang of doubt. She wondered if she was doing the right thing, and hoped that Ben would not think that she looked ridiculous.
"Good morning, Ben. Come on in. Did you have breakfast?"
Ben just stood there, his eyes staring at her, his mouth hanging open.
"Well, come on in, before the mosquitos open a new franchise."
He stepped in, looking dazed, and seemed unsure what to do. Carol again wondered if she had gone too far.
"Would you like something to eat? Or some juice?"
"Uh, no. No thanks."
"Are you sure? A healthy young man like you needs to get enough to eat, especially with all that I have planned for today."
Finally he seemed to regain his senses, and flashed that impish smile that she liked so much.
"Well, how about some of that sweet bread toast? And some milk."
"Whew!" she thought to herself. "For a moment there I thought he was going to faint."
"Come and sit down while I get it for you."
She motioned him towards a chair at the table where he had a full view of her as she worked, and made it a point to keep standing and moving about, so that he could get the full effect of her outfit.
"How's your family?" she asked.
"Oh, they're fine. Mom's been working hard at the store. They're getting ready for inventory, and she's been working late a lot. Sis and I kind of take care of ourselves."
"How old is your sister now?"
Carol was pleased to see him relaxed, but watching her every move like a hungry animal.
"She just turned fifteen."
"What's it like having to watch her while you're mother is away at night?"
"Not so bad. Last night she had a couple of friends over, and they got kind of wild. They sure drove me crazy."
"Hmmm," she thought, "an eighteen year old boy alone with a bunch of young girls. I bet it did drive him crazy."
"Any attractive one's?" she asked.
"Sort of. One of them is really nice. Kind of young for me, but real cute."
"A few years makes a big difference at that age. Give her a little time and she won't seem so immature."
"Well, that's just it. She's not as goofy as my sister. She seems real mature for her age. If I didn't know otherwise I'd think she was older."
She turned and smiled at him with an expression that suggested that she was wise in these matters.
"Would you like to have her?"
He paused for a moment, obviously taken aback, but did not look overly shocked. Her ability to be intimate and frank with people had always been an asset at the store. Most of her customers shopped there because the things she sold were sexy, and her ability to let people express their wants so freely was the key to her success.
"You mean, like, have sex with her?"
"Yes. If she were willing, would you like to have sex with her?"
"Gosh, I suppose so. Yeah, she's real neat. I could get into that."
"Well, watch your step, young man. Sex is a wonderful game to play, but you have to wait for the fruit to be ripe before you pick it."
"Yeah, I know. Like I said, she really is kind of young. But she acts so, well, I don't know how to describe it. Like she's ready."
"Sometimes we get our signals crossed. You're old enough to want to tumble in the hay with every pretty girl who comes along, and she just might not be thinking along those lines. For now I think you had better confine your activities to older girls who feel the same way as you. Besides, you don't want to break the law."
At this point Carol's body was like a kettle reaching the boiling point. Their frank talk about sex was really turning her on. The tight straps of her leather panties were tugging up into her cunt, and her nipple clamps were driving her crazy. With every move she made her skin was caressed by soft, slinky nylon that felt ever so nice. And that little V-shaped cutout was doing its thing, so that as she moved she felt the little tongue of leather rubbing the base of her clit. Waves of pleasure poured over her, sometimes strong enough to make her shudder. When that happened the nylon sliding all over her body reinforced the feeling, and the involuntary movement made the leather tongue rub more on her clit in a kind of endless cycle.
"Here's your toast, and the milk. Take your time."
"Thanks. It smells great!"
Ben was silent as he took a big bite of toast, and it seemed to Carol that he was thinking about something. She waited, careful not to jump into every hole in the conversation. Finally he looked at her as if he had made up his mind about something.
"Are you going someplace special today?" he asked.
"No, I wasn't planning to. Why?"
"You look so dressed up."
She smiled invitingly and asked, "Do you like this outfit?"
"You look terrific. Like you are going to a party or something."
"No, I just decided to dress a little nicer today. I was in the mood. You usually see me at my worst."
She hesitated just a moment, trying to decide how hard to pursue this. She guessed that his hesitation had been at bringing up the way she was dressed. She still wasn't sure how he felt about it, but finally decided to play out her hand.
"I really like wearing this outfit. It feels really good."
She almost laughed at his reaction. He all but choked on the piece of sweetbread he was chewing, and had to take a big gulp of milk to get it down. From where she was standing, leaning back against the counter, she could see that there was a very large bulge in his crotch. She decided to go a little farther.
"Aren't these pants fabulous? Look at how wide they flair out."
She walked over to the table, pulled out the chair next to him and set her foot on it. The pant leg flowed down from her knee in soft folds that caught the morning light and glimmered in countless shades of blue. Then she leaned over, reached down and held out the hem.
"You see, they're very wide, but the fabric is so soft that it just kind of flows around. It's really different from blue jeans, or those stiff polyester pants so many women wear."
She let go, letting the fabric fall back down around her calf. Ben stared at it and let out a little sigh.
"Try feel it. It's really soft and silky."
Ben just stared at her, obviously at a loss as to what he should do. She half expected him to bolt for the door.
She took his hand and placed it on her calf, where it was almost buried in the folds of fabric. Then she let go.
"Don't be bashful. See? Doesn't it feel good?"
Ben started to run his fingers up and down, at first just touching the lose fabric. When his hand touched her calf he cupped his palm and ran it up and down the back of her leg. He started to grin, looking for all the world like a little boy who just got a new toy. Or, Carol thought, like a boy knowing that he was getting away with doing something naughty.
"Yeah," he said nervously, "I see what you mean. It must be nice to feel that all over."
He took his hand away, and she put her foot back down and sat on the chair, crossing her legs. The blue nylon cascaded down from the leg on top like a waterfall and fluttered in the light breeze blowing in through the window.
"Yes, it does. Do you know that song from the play "Flower Drum Song," the one called "I enjoy being a girl?" Well, that's me."
"It looks really sexy," Ben said, almost in a whisper.
"Oh, and it feels very sexy. This kind of nylon is very sensuous to wear. Not too many women will admit that, but it's true. I sell a lot of clothes like this in my store to women who enjoy the way it feels, and who enjoy having their men see them in it.
"I do like wearing qiana dresses, but what makes this outfit so nice is that I don't have to wear stockings. It's such a shame for a woman to wear a dress that feels so good, only to have her legs covered up by nylon stockings."
Again Ben had that funny look on his face, but only for a moment. Then he asked, "Do you remember a couple weeks ago, when we talked about fantasies?"
"Yes."
"You said that fantasies were good, that they let us experience sexual desires that we can't always act out in real life. Sort of like dreams."
"Yes. I was saying that fantasies can be a kind of safety valve, allowing us to experience situations that might damage a relationship if we really did them. Like reading a book about some dangerous activity, like fighting in a war or climbing Mt. Everest."
"Well, for a while now I've been fantasizing about girls dressed kind of the way you are now. Wearing sexy clothes like that, or those shiny dance leotards. I think stuff like that is real sexy. It really turns me on."
Carol was very pleased with Ben. They had had a number of frank discussions about sex in recent weeks, and this was the first time that he had said anything so personal.
"What are they doing as they wear their sexy clothes?"
"Oh, it varies. Mostly I think about how wearing things like that might really turn them on."
"Were you surprised at what I said, about how good this outfit feels to wear?"
"Until now my fantasies were just a dream. I guess you could say this is a dream come true. Sounds kind of corny."
"Not at all. Would you like to have that fifteen year old to play with, dressed this way?"
"Oh yeah! Actually, there's more that I'd like to talk about."
"What's that?"
"Sometimes, in my fantasy, I see myself hurting the girl. Like, she's tied up, and I'm squeezing her breasts real hard, or spanking her. Afterwards, I feel bad about it. My feelings change, so that I just want to hold her close. Lately I've been wondering if there's something wrong with me."
"Ben, there's nothing wrong with you. Remember what I said, that fantasies can get pretty far out? Well, your's is not so unusual. You're old enough to learn some of the more unusual aspects of sex.
"For one thing, you're young, and probably haven't had too many opportunities to play with girls. That can easily lead to frustration, which you deal with through your fantasy by hurting your partner. Once you get into a mature relationship with a willing partner, that frustration won't be there, and the feelings of needing to hurt your mate will probably diminish, or even vanish.
"Still, sex is a very complex thing. Lots of basic emotions get mixed in with it. In many ways, the emotions we experience with sex are more important than the physical sensations. Your desire to hurt your partner may not be caused by frustration at all, but are rather rooted in deeper feelings about things you may never truly understand.
"Like I have said before, everyone is entitled to good sex. You must find a way to have it the way you want it, with a partner who's willing share you needs and desires. If it turns out that your desires prevent you from having good sex, you might want to see a therapist. They have lots of ways to help you get back on track, so that you function well and enjoy it more. But, at your age, and given the nature of your fantasy, I think you need only to allow yourself to enjoy it without feeling guilty."
Ben looked surprised. "You mean I should enjoy hurting girls?"
"Ben, I'm not talking about beating them with a nine foot bull whip, or torturing them with a red hot poker. That kind of thing is sick, and like any sickness, needs the attention of a trained doctor. A shrink."
Carol paused, worried that her comments had ended to harshly. She thought for a moment how to lighten up, and settled on a new tack.
"Ben, do you know what S&M is?"
"I've sort of heard the term, but I'm not sure what it means."
"The 'S' stands for sadist, one who enjoys hurting others. The 'M' stands for masochist, one who enjoys being hurt. S&M really refers to a special kind of sex play, where partners act out situations where one is hurting the other. For some people, its the thought that counts. The emphasis is on acting, like stunt men in a movie. A few people actually enjoy a little pain along with their sex, but too much is a problem.
"Another term that belongs in this discussion is domination. Even regular, garden variety sex involves domination. When a woman surrenders herself to you and puts you in the position of giving her intense pleasure, you are in a way dominating her.
"'Normal' sex is based pretty heavily on male domination. You, being the male, ask a girl out, you take her someplace in your car, you buy her dinner, then you go and have sex, where you lay on top and make love to her until you come. Then you roll over and go to sleep."
They both laughed at this, which did a lot to lighten up the mood. Carol felt giddy, lecturing this young man on such an intimate subject, sharing with him all that she had learned over the years as she came to terms with her own strange desires.
"That's the storybook version. In reality, many times the female does things to make the situation go her way. She may flirt with you to get your attention so that you ask her out, she may dress in a manner that she thinks, or knows, that you like. And, in the heat of your love play, she just might ask you to do something that you wouldn't have thought of. But the rules are that she must be careful, she must use cunning, and not be too direct, or your precious male ego will be offended and you'll reject her as a mate.
"S&M gives people a way to break out of that tired old pattern. Some women crave strong male domination. For them, sex is best when there are lots of symbolic examples of being dominated. Bondage is one of the most basic symbols of domination, and being played with while tied up and unable to do much of anything about what is being done to you is a very mind blowing experience. On the other hand, there are lots of men, especially those with jobs that entail a lot of authority, who enjoy being dominated by a women in their sex play. In public they are looked to for taking charge and making decisions, but in their most private moments they like nothing more than to give themselves up totally to their partner. Some men pay a lot of money for an evening at a bordello just so they can be spanked and bossed around by a lovely lady wearing a black lace corset and spike heels."
Ben shook his head in bewilderment. "Gee, I guess I'm not so weird after all. That's a relief!"
"Did you think your fantasies were weird?"
"I didn't know what to think. I never hear anybody talking about things like that except to say that its perverted."
"Are you a pervert?"
Ben grinned, flashing that smile that was so charming and youthful.
"I don't feel like it. Sometimes my thoughts bother me, but I don't identify with being a pervert."
Carol nodded in agreement.
"Let's just say that you like things that are off the main stream of accepted behavior, and save the term pervert for those who are truly sick. Even then, it isn't a very useful term."
"Well," Ben asked, "what kinds of things would you call perverted?"
"Let's use the term unacceptable, OK? Now, for one thing, any action that includes an unknowing or unwilling partner is, to me, unacceptable. Like peeking in a person's bedroom trying to see them naked. Sex play with children, even young adolescents, who don't understand what you're doing. Any forced participation, the sort of thing usually referred to as rape. Getting your date really drunk and screwing her when she can't really resist. There's other examples, but I think you get my point.
"Then there's things that you can do alone, or with a partner, that put others at risk or that is offensive, like jerking off in a movie theater, or screwing in a park where a young person might see you. Or letting your girlfriend play with your cock while you zoom down the highway in your car. And things that could really hurt you. Would you believe that some people like to be strangled while they have sex? People die doing that."
Ben looked stunned.
"Now that's weird!"
"Yeah, there was a beautiful movie based on that. It took place in Japan, in the old days. It was called 'In the Realm of the Senses.' The man liked to be choked, and his lover did it to please him, but one time she did it too much and he died. She loved him so much she went crazy. She cut off his dick and carried it with her, wandering around the city in a daze. Based on a true story.
"On the other hand, there are a lot of Japanese who enjoy S&M, the kind where nobody gets hurt. They do it because they like it."
Ben was finished with his snack. He wiped his mouth, then put down the napkin and looked thoughtful.
"I wonder when I'll get the chance to try some of these things? How do I find a girl to try it with?"
Carol stood up, walked to the counter and turned to face him, leaning back a bit and shaking out her hair in a classic movie pose. She saw how he stared at her, and that look of hunger returned.
"Ben, one way is to start out playing the part of the victim. Knowing how it feels is a good way to learn how to do it."
Ben's jaw was hanging open, like he couldn't believe what was happening. She wondered if he felt like he was in a dream, and at any moment was going to wake up.
"I think you're ready to experience first hand some of the things we've been talking about. I'm a very good teacher."
"You mean it? Really? When?"
"Right now," she replied, trying hard not to laugh at his overt enthusiasm.