A Sense of Submission

She reached forward and I could see her hands trembling slightly as she began to work the fastenings of Jessica's jeans before gently working the tight denim down her long legs.

Jessica stepped out of her jeans and sandals in a single movement to stand in just a simple pair of white tanga pants which made it obvious that she had very prominent mound.

She was like a work of art to be gazed upon but I felt a growing compulsion to do more than simply look. Linda was similarly affected but I was astonished as she leant forwards and placed a single kiss.

Jessica's panties now bore the imprint of Linda's lipstick and it was one the most erotic images I had ever beheld. I felt my own sex growing warmer with each passing moment and I found myself pressing my thighs tightly together.

No acknowledgement was made, no instruction given, Linda took careful hold of the flimsy cotton garment as if it were precious silk of inestimable value and stripped it away. I noted that that she secreted them with her own discarded clothing but my attention was now firmly fixed on Jessica's naked form.

I saw that her sex was dressed with a neatly trimmed covering of blonde hair, which came as a surprise, but then I considered that everything this young woman did was carefully calculated.

Searching for an adjective with which to describe her mons I could not get beyond the word ripe. The perfect upswell was accentuated by the revealed tips of her labia which had a beckoning quality.

This was borne out as Linda knelt before her looking mesmerized. She moaned almost inaudibly like a desert traveller lighting upon an oasis.

Jessica looked perfectly serene and totally in command of the situation. I knew what was coming and I could not believe how aroused I was at the prospect. Had anything like it been outlined to me only days before I would have laughed out loud but she was keeping me as skilfully on edge as she was Linda.

Finally, she put a finger under Linda's chin and raised her head.

"Adore me..."

She needed no second bidding. Leaning forward she began to devotedly kiss and lick between Jessica's legs but she made no attempt to broach the portal. It was not lost on me that she kept her hands clasped behind her back the whole time.

Jessica looked tranquil which contrasted with my own state of agitation. I was now undeniably aroused and I guiltily craved the sensations that I knew she could bestow.

She allowed Linda to indulge herself for some minutes and I felt certain that she was fully aware of the effect it was having on me. Eventually, she bade her to stop and then she came and sat beside me on the sofa.

Her insouciant, naked, presence flustered me and I tried desperately to retain some professional integrity but I was fighting a losing battle. My heart skipped as, with calculated slowness, she parted her legs.

She beckoned Linda forward with a single finger and she approached on her knees. She appeared transported and I noted that her nipples still stood fiercely distended.

She paused for a moment, as if waiting at a prayer rail, and then closed the divide. She sealed her mouth to Jessica's sex and for a brief moment her cool façade slipped. Her body arched fractionally and I surmised that this was in reaction to the invasion of Linda's tongue.

She quickly gathered herself but I could see that Linda was straining to penetrate as deeply as possible and, for an exquisite instance, it was as almost if I could feel it myself. My sex was becoming uncomfortably wet but I remained frozen not wanting to break the spell.

Time stood still and I became acutely aware of every sound. There was the background of distant traffic and the hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen but, set against this, was Linda's soft murmuring and the lapping of her tongue.

I knew, then, that she would carry on for however long Jessica wanted, for as many hours or as many orgasms as she wished, and that thought nearly brought me to a climax.

I must have moaned out loud without being aware of it as Jessica turned to me.

"Take off your panties..."

I knew that this was all so terribly wrong but the world of mores seemed beyond my reach. I fumbled beneath my skirt and was mortified to find that my panties were sodden.

Jessica laughed at my discomfort as I quickly removed them and dropped them somewhere in the vicinity of my handbag at the side of the sofa.

"Lift your skirt and open your legs."

My hands seemed to belong to someone else as I did as she asked and became immediately aware of the cool air on my heated sex. I had used a depilatory that morning which was unusual for me as I usually waited until the weekend.

My eyes flitted to Linda only to find her looking back at me and I realized that, for her, the script had suddenly changed.

Jessica slowly eased her away from her sex and stroked her hair, as if she were doting on a pet, before speaking to me again.

"Do you want her..."

Linda looked shocked at the rejection but I could see that it had spoken to something deep inside her. For my part I was totally conflicted. Jessica was offering the use of her, treating her as nothing more than a body slave, and it went against all of my principals but I reasoned that to deny her might be the crueller option.

In the end she made the decision for herself. She moved from between Jessica's legs to take her place in front of me and the look of lust she conveyed sent a shiver through me.

I felt an impulse to close my legs, reminding myself that this was another woman, but she gazed at my sex with a reverence that no man had ever exhibited. The protuberant labia that had once worried me, until I came to embrace them as an adult, were, to her, a thing of beauty and as she began to gently kiss each side in turn I almost swooned.

She took her time, licking over the whole expanse of my sensitized mound and then returning to take each wing in turn gently between her lips before caressing with her tongue. The feeling was almost indescribable. I did not want her stop what she was doing but my body was screaming out for her to be more assertive.

In a lucid moment it then dawned on me that this was the essential thrust of the article. There was a dynamic at work here that needed to be explored and explained.

By slow degrees she was changing her approach. She subtly began to apply more pressure and licked along the whole length of my furrow resulting in a teasing pressure on my clitoris.

I had no control over my own body as it yielded to her sly urging. My sex opened to her and I felt a welling of moisture.

This was her cue and she pressed home in a single thrust that robbed me of breath. Her tongue seemed to fill me but she flexed it to give herself further access.

She was like a musician tuning an instrument as she explored within finding those spots that provoked the strongest response. My fingers clawed at the sofa as she toyed with me and she had yet to seek out my clitoris.

This was well beyond my experience. Even the men who had professed to enjoy it, most of whom I did not believe, had never come close. Linda had a natural understanding of what it took to bring another woman pleasure and she was a skilled practitioner. It felt as if we were as one, sharing the same sympathetic vibration.

I could feel myself leaking copiously but that only served to feed her need. She swallowed greedily and hearing her increased my exhilaration.

I should have been climaxing but she denied me the final touch whilst promising so much. Her tongue found the roof of my sex working a point beyond my clitoris and my body began to tense. It was an incredible feeling and not something I had achieved with my own fingers.

The strain was a beautiful agony and when, at last, she gave her attention to my sweet spot a spring was uncoiled. I felt each tiny, knowing, movement centred there and then radiating throughout my body with unbelievable intensity.

I fought to breathe as wave after wave crashed over me and there seemed no ending until I could take no more and I returned to the here and now. I wanted to thank her but she had all the thanks she needed as she lapped the warm residue from my thighs and then returned to Jessica for unfinished business.

Chapter Three

The article presented a problem. I could not allude my own intimate involvement and, in order to satisfy the guidelines of a mainstream magazine, I had to edit it heavily. I believed that I caught the inter-relationship and the nature of dependency succinctly but I was struggling to meet the minimum word count.

I was discussing this with the editor when I uttered the fateful words.

"If only you could see her..."

The obvious leap to the possibility of a photo-shoot fired the editor with renewed enthusiasm but I was dubious. Jessica had remained in control in terms of confidentiality, using the magazine as a cut-out, but photographs presented a different problem.

I contacted her without hope or enthusiasm; she was, after all, studying at one of the country's most prestigious universities but her reply took me by surprise.

She was happy to pose but only if the shoot was undertaken by a friend. I pointed out to her that the magazine used some of the best fashion photographers around and that they would not compromise but she insisted that I come along and take a look.

A couple of days later I collected her and we drove the short distance across town to her friend's studio. I was expecting a commercial premises but we arrived at a residential address and Jessica led me up to the loft apartment.

Yet again I was confounded in my expectation. I thought that I was to be introduced to a university contemporary but Evelyn Proctor turned out to be a Canadian closer to my age than Jessica's.

She was larger than life in every sense. She stood a little taller than me and carried a lot more weight but she had it in all the right places and she exuded a sense of good health and vitality.

I was welcomed expansively with a kiss on both cheeks and the intimation that any friend of Jessica's was a friend of hers.

The loft, come studio, was a huge airy space with a large range of expensive photographic equipment on display. The walls were bedecked with her work which included some original paintings in amongst the many black and white photo prints which seemed to be her forte.

One photograph in particular, just inside the doorway, caught my attention. Its composition featured a woman, partly unclothed, secured to the four corners of a bed. The style was reminiscent of a fifties pulp book cover but the counterpoint was her nemesis who stood over her holding a whip. The second figure was cast in shadow but there was just enough definition to suggest that it was another woman.

The image was familiar but I could not quite put my finger on it until Jessica said.

"Your taste in music?"

I then remembered the brouhaha from the previous year. An Australian girl band, whose name was lost to me, were the subject of a massive launch for their first album but the music itself had become overshadowed by the debate, mainly in the feminist press, about their choice of cover art work. The story had been big enough to find some space on the inner pages of the sleazier Sunday tabloids.

I looked at Evelyn with renewed appreciation and then went on to note that the greater part of her oeuvre had fetish undercurrents. I am no art expert but I could see that there was quite a talent at work here.

All of her photographs drew you in to examine them more closely with the theme seeming to be things hidden or hinted at in the shadows. In each she managed to pull off the trick of showing the beauty of her models without identifying them and I knew, immediately, that Jessica had been absolutely right.

Evelyn brewed coffee and we sat down on a pair of facing sofas. I sat next to Jessica with Evelyn opposite to us and we reached an agreement. I would recommend Evelyn but, once the introductions were made, she would have to negotiate her own fee with the magazine. I suspected that she would have done it for nothing just for the exposure but the magazine stood to gain from her recent notoriety.

The conversation was pleasant but business-like until Evelyn stopped me cold.

"Do you like legs?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You seem fascinated by my legs. I'm sorry, I notice these things."

I felt a guilty flush start to my cheeks. She was wearing a skirt which had ridden up a little when she sat down and it is true that the exposed expanse of her legs had caught my attention. They were surprisingly toned and shapely leaving me wondering what she did to keep to keep fit.

Before I could formulate a reply she spoke again.

"Forgive me. I run an on-line fetish magazine to promote my work. It has been astonishingly successful and I've gained a unique insight into what turns people on. Breasts are probably most popular amongst the general population but, in the community that reads my magazine, there is more of an emphasis on legs and particularly women's backsides."

Her matter of fact tone put me a little more at ease but then, irrationally, I wondered if she was speaking mainly for heterosexuals. Her works seemed evenly divided between those depicting men with women, and those that I would consider of a lesbian leaning. There were a just a few that showed men with men.

It transpired that they knew one another through the magazine and that Jessica had become something of a muse. Evelyn showed me some shots featuring her and they were quite breath taking. Even without totally revealing her face she had captured the essence of her as well as her raw beauty.

Jessica looked at the photographs herself, outwardly lost in thought, and then said.

"Let's take a couple of shots now so that we can show the magazine what we can do."

I took the sheets from her and looked at them again.

"We could just use these as examples."

She touched my hand and smiled.

"No silly, if we are going to do this than it has to be for real. It has to be you and me."

I just did not know how to reply. My immediate thought was that I was too shy but I was vain enough to be flattered that she would even consider me as a potential model. I was also intrigued as to how Evelyn would work with less than perfect raw material.

It became a fait accompli when Evelyn drew the blinds and began to set up her lighting rigs. Jessica drew me across the room and it was amazing how intimate the space now seemed.

When Evelyn was ready she wheeled over an empty clothes rail.

"Get undressed and hang up your clothes."

I hesitated for a moment caught between the clinical reality and the fantasy I had conjured for myself. It was Jessica who snapped me out of it.

"If you're going to take Linda's part you need to be naked."

I slowly removed my clothes all the while conscious of the harsh lights. It seemed impossible that this set up could yield such dramatically shaded results. Once I was naked Evelyn began to circle me taking variety of shots but never once asking me to pose.

As she worked Jessica took off her clothes and, seeing her naked, I felt that same hollow feeling inside. She sat down on the sofa as if taking a throne and, only then, did it really come home to me what I had agreed to.

Evelyn switched her attention to Jessica who was a natural in front of the camera. She sat regally until Evelyn changed cameras and nodded.

Jessica slowly opened her legs with a wicked smile on her face and pointed to the floor in front of her.

My heart beat faster as I went to my knees and I immediately noticed that she was professionally depilated. This change, since our last encounter, gave added emphasis to her mound which appeared almost burnished.

"She's a Goddess isn't she?"

Evelyn spoke softly at my ear but I could not reply. I yielded as she moved me closer in and I barely registered the soft click of the camera. Over the next few minutes she posed the pair of us but, throughout, my eyes remained fixed on the delta of Jessica's sex.

Evelyn asked me to open my mouth and show my tongue but the truth was that I breathing through my nose hoping for some indication that Jessica too was being affected. She played her imperious role well but she was more aware than I gave her credit for.

"Lick me if you want to."

Was I really so transparent? Was it something I really wanted? Evelyn remained completely unfazed.

"Go ahead honey. I can give you a few minutes and then we can pick up again."

In a state of confusion I got to my feet.

"I need a break."

Jessica laughed as she addressed Evelyn.

"She's a lesbian but she's still discovering herself."

To hear it put thus starkly seemed so very wrong. What the hell did this girl know about me! In the past few days I had done a lot of thinking but I had convinced myself that I was simply caught up in the circumstances of this particular job. Another man would stroll into my life at some point and this would all be put down to experience.

Evelyn put an arm around my shoulder and her presence was a comforting warmth.

"It's fine baby. I didn't find the faith until later in life myself."

I froze in her embrace. I had not considered her sexuality other than to think that she would have no problem at all in attracting men. My sudden tenseness did not daunt her. She took me in her arms and cuddled me to her ample bosom and I smelt the soft fragrance of her perfume.

I could, perhaps should, have pulled away but some deep memory stirred and I felt a sudden, blissful, sense of wellbeing. She stroked my hair and spoke in a whisper.

"You are so very beautiful. I say that not just as another woman but as an artist."

Was she coming on to me? I did not know, but the bigger question was whether or not I welcomed the advance. She held me for a long time and I could hear the steady beat of her heart. It would have been so easy to drift off in the comfort of her arms.

Eventually, she eased away and took my face in her hands.

"Do you trust me? I know exactly how to photograph you."

Without waiting for an answer she began to move lights to the back of the studio and Jessica took me by the hand and led me across. I immediately recognized the bed from the album cover print and now had an inkling of what to expect.

Evelyn appreciated my unease. She sat on the bed and invited me to sit next to her.

"This will be a private photograph just for you. No one else ever need see it unless you wished."

Even now I wanted to dissent but I put up no resistance as she eased me backwards. With an evident facility she and Jessica bound my limbs to the corners of the bed and my only thought was of how white and pure the ropes appeared.

She began to take shots from a variety of angles, under different lighting settings, and then set me a new challenge.

"I want you to struggle against the ropes. Ignore me, and do it for real."

I started off tentatively but found that, whilst the ropes were relatively thick and the knots seemingly innocuous, I could not free myself. Trying again, I closed my fingers and tried to slip free but there was insufficient play in the ropes. Now, mildly annoyed, I tried in earnest twisting my whole body, but I was stuck fast.

"I've had enough now. Untie me."

Evelyn, who had been shooting fast and furiously, put her camera aside and spoke breathlessly.

"Wait just a moment..."

She wheeled across a small trolley bearing a computer monitor. She plugged in the camera and her fingers flew across the keyboard whist she made adjustments with a mouse.

When she was happy she turned the screen towards me.

"It's not the finished product...just to give you an idea."

Even from my prone position I could see that it was a beautiful composition. She had caught my face in the half-light so that it was undoubtedly me but the expression could have been one either of agony or ecstasy.