"You learn fast, bitch," Arabella said softly in compliment. "There is hope for you yet."
Madam's hand smoothed over the curve of her reddened buttocks, Claire gave an involuntary shiver as the woman touched her. The thrill of the caressing was tremendous, a gripping in her pussy seemed to urge Arabella's fingers to move toward her pussy. She closed her eyes and steeled herself to receive a female touch on her pussy for the first time ever.
"Little bitch needs to learn patience," Arabella sang and withdrew her hand.
Claire let a great sigh, not of relief but one of deep disappointment.
Natalie almost ran across the wide shopping mall toward their meeting place in the coffee shop. She moved quickly between the rows of table, dodging customers an waitresses alike. The girl reached the table and sat, her eyes wide with interest her breathing hard and laboured.
"Well?" She asked between breaths as she laid her handbag and coat on the seat next to her.
Claire giggled, Natalie's eager interest amused her, the hungry expression on her face most comical.
"Fantastic! Truly fantastic."
"What was – what's it all about? Tell me you mean thing!" Natalie questioned excitedly.
"Sex!"
Natalie stared back, her eyes searching Claire's face for signs of jest – there were none.
"Are you serious?"
"Deadly," came the curt reply.
They paused as the waitress placed two coffees on the table before them and then moved away.
"Sex such as you have never know – could never have even dreamt of. Wild and different, horny as hell."
Natalie still regarded her friend with a little suspicion.
"How so? How different?"
Claire sat back in her seat, lounging confidently.
"Sorry but that part you will have to wait and see for yourself."
"But you can't leave me dangling! That isn't fair! My invitation isn't for well over a month."
"Be all the better when you do go then, won't it?"
Natalie realised that she would get no further on that approach.
"Just a hint then," she pleaded in a little-girly voice.
Claire leaned forward across the table and lowered her voice to a secretive whisper.
"Orgasms, orgasms so plentiful and powerful that will send you to paradise and back."
Natalie swallowed hard, her eyes wide.
"Wow!"
"Pure sex in its rawest form – exciting sex and best of all," she said and paused for effect. "It's all laid on for you at the manor."
"Must admit," Natalie breathed in response. "A little of that certainly wouldn't go amiss. It's okay for you, you're married but me? I have to take what I can get and when."
"Being married doesn't automatically entitle you to regular goodies but the manor sure does. My pussy is still sore to prove it."
"Oh God!" Natalie moaned wistfully.
Again Claire used a low voice, she controlled her own rising excitement as she related the information.
"How does two beefy young studs both going at you all nigh sound?"
"Heavenly," Natalie giggled.
"Both at the same time?"
Natalie's mouth dropped open in surprise.
"Never!"
Claire nodded and smiled. She knew her friend well and could recognise the sexual arousal in her expression and manner. Claire felt that she could almost read Natalie's mind as her friend sat silently absorbing what she had been told.
The tone became lighter as Claire sipped her coffee and then stated.
"I'm going back next weekend – and the one after that and the next and the next…"
Natalie looked at her and then giggled mischievously.
"That good eh?"
Claire nodded and beamed a smile.
"That good!? She restated emphatically.
Robert wasn't amused, he stood up and positioned himself in front of the fireplace as he was prone to do when trying to assert his authority. His hands clasped behind his back, chest out and inflated with self-importance.
"Why the need go again next weekend?" He asked almost disinterestedly.
Claire sighed to display her impatience with him and shifted in her seat to further show her displeasure at his questioning.
"Because it's a training course, I have explained this to you already"
"Huh!" He snorted in derision. "So our weekends now are to be ruined because of this course."
"We never do anything at weekends anyway," Claire countered. "You watch football, go to the squash club and generally laze around doing the least you possibly can."
He stood pensive for a few moments.
"Well I don't think you should go," he said firmly and in the best authoritative tone he could muster.
Claire looked up from the magazine she was idly reading.
"I couldn't give a fuck what you think!"
Robert was stunned, an incredulous look on his face and he flushed in anger.
"What did you say?"
Claire tossed the magazine aside casually and crossed her legs, her stare was direct and challenging.
"You heard me, I don't give a fuck what you think, I'm going and that's all there is to say about it."
"I won't have it!" He retorted angrily.
Claire stood slowly, walked over to her husband and brought her face close to his.
"Like it or lump it because I am going."
He held her stare for several seconds and then backed down.
"Well – if it means that much to you…"
"It does!" Claire stated firmly.
He had no reply, Robert simply turned and walked away. His usual response to confrontation was to avoid it and retire to the kitchen.
Claire was wet, her pussy throbbing it need. The thrill of challenging him, of holding her ground and taking control was so powerful. To be assertive felt good but to control would be better, she simply had to further the thrill. She walked into the kitchen where Robert sat silently brooding at the kitchen table.
"Either you fuck me this week or I'll get someone else to do it for you," she said simply.
Again he looked shocked, his usually demure wife using such coarse language. So out of character for her, he was thrown, unable to cope with the change in her. He simply nodded his head in acceptance.
Claire moved to the table, planted her hands firmly on the surface and leaned close to him. Her tone was threatening and full of menace, designed to assert her control over him.
"Was that a yes to you fucking me or my getting someone to do it for you?" She demanded.
He looked up solemnly, a pained and pathetic look on his face.
"Yes to…doing it with you."
The thrill was pumping in her, her clitoris hard and throbbing.
"Fucking me! Say it!" She demanded.
He hesitated.
"Say it!" She hissed threateningly.
"Fucking you," he said softly.
"Louder!" She snapped angrily. "Louder."
He swallowed and then repeated the words at the top of his voice.
"Fucking you."
She stood upright and turned, as she reached the doorway he called to her.
"Would you? Get someone else to do it if don't?"
She paused for a moment without turning and then stated in a firm tone.
"Try me!"
Claire left the room laughing loudly at her husband's demise.
It hadn't actually been as painful as Claire had expected it to be. She had dreaded it, since last weekend when Arabella had insisted she be pierced Claire had been both curious and a little frightened. She stood now before her long mirror in the bathroom turning the little golden training rings as she had to each day. At first she could hardly bring herself to touch them but now, days later, it actually stimulated her to do so. The initial swelling had reduced and so too had the soreness, now only pleasure came from her piercing.