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This tale grew out of my growing annoyance with the glee that British newspapers take in devastating individuals lives. I wouldn't have minded so much if they were destroying those who put themselves up in public as leaders or role models but it must be so much easier for the journalists to rake up lurid stories about Mr and Mrs Jones of Quiet Life Street. So what if someone is gay, tg or into one fetish or another. If someone claiming to represent the great and the good stands up decrying such things and then gets found out by a newspaper tough on them, they deserve everything they get. Not like Mr and Mrs Jones who offend nobody and just get ion with their private lives privately without offending anyone or harming anyone. This is for everyone who enjoys being themselves without becoming hypocrites, its also a warning for all those who seek celebrity through using others. Your comments are welcome as always, constructive or otherwise. I'll try to reply to you all, best wishes and as ever, kindest regards, [email protected] In Search of the Exclusive ? by: Jennifer Richardson. As an investigative journalist I was quite proud of the number of headline stories my Sunday newspaper had printed with my name under them. In fact, looking back, I was probably overly proud. Whilst I hadn't actually brought down governments I'd certainly helped undermine them, letting the electorate get rid of them at election time. Corrupt police officers and high court judges joined politicians on my hit list, as did a number of high flying business executives with enough money and power to corrupt not only themselves but just about everyone they came into contact with. I figured they put themselves up there to be shot at, they supplied the bullets and I fired the gun, rather I pulled the trigger through my keyboard. Twenty eight years old, with the world at my feet, or at least on the end of a phone line, everything to gain and nothing much to lose. Well alright, there was the sports car, the smart apartment overlooking the river and a network of friends to wile away my spare time. Not that any of it mattered when I got the call late one Friday afternoon. "Dave Stark," I answered the phone hearing a cultured voice reply. "Mr Stark, I might have a story for you." I never counted how many calls like that I used to get, at first I was always very skeptical, there had to be more than a suggestion to get me interested. "Really? And what might it be?" "It involves the Secretary of State for Defense, Mr. Stark." "Don't tell me, you have enough evidence to finally out him as gay?" I asked, possibly with a little too much sarcasm. "I wouldn't know about that Mr. Stark but I do know that he visits a professional Dominatrix three times a week." I took a deep breath. "Mr. Stark? Are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here, I was just letting that little bit of information sink in. I don't suppose you're going to tell me who you are or where you are?" "Certainly not Mr. Stark." "So where would we have to deliver, payment for services rendered?" "I don't believe I mentioned any kind of fee Mr. Stark." That was odd in itself, it might not be the best way of gaining information, paying for it I mean, but it was up there as one of the easiest. "So where might our Secretary of State be visiting?" "I'll give you a phone number and a name, after that I won't be in touch with you again." "Right, okay then....." "The number is," he read off a number and said 'Mistress Amber' then rang off. I looked at the piece of paper I'd scribbled the number on and then looked at the phone. Normally I'd have rung the number straight away, like as not reaching a Chinese restaurant, this time I decided to speak to the editor first. "So you get an anonymous call about the Secretary of State and some whiplash woman. Have you checked the number?" Angie Bergstrum, editor in chief and the finest looking woman a young reporter could ever think of lusting after. "Not yet, the number he was ringing from was unrecognizable, something in his manner tells me there's something in this." "So get on it then!" The smile on her lips was so inviting I could have dived across the desk at her. The fact that her eyes were telling me that I'd lose all bodily function if I did so stopped most coherent thought. "Right, I'll be off then," I muttered, wandering back to my desk space and picking up the phone. I dialed the number and found myself listening to a recorded message. "Welcome to Executive Distress, for an appointment please leave your telephone number and name after the tone." I hung up and scribbled down what the message had said, looked at it for a moment before dialing again. After hearing the message again I was sure it was definitely a message, then, after the tone, I left my mobile phone number and a false name, Mark Adams. My guess was that whoever received the messages would go through them and then decide whether the messages were worth replying to. Presumably that was when you'd discover where and when your appointment was. As it turned out I was half right. By Saturday afternoon I'd more or less forgotten about it. My mobile had rung numerous times but never anyone remotely named Amber. When it rang while I was tidying the lounge I almost missed the call. "Hello?" "Mark Adams?" a soft voice asked. "Yes, that's me." "You rang me with a view to an appointment Mark." "Amber?" I asked, a catch in my voice due mostly to her honeyed tones. "Mistress Amber Mark, do remember that, can you manage that?" "Er, yes Mistress Amber," I replied, none too sure why it seemed so important. "Tomorrow morning at eleven thirty I shall be walking my dogs in Green Park. I will interview you then." "Fine, Mistress Amber, I'll see you there." "Don't waste my time Mark. My dogs enjoy the exercise but I hate to have my time wasted." "Of course Mistress Amber, erm, how will I recognise you?" There was a melodic laugh from the other end of the line. "Do you know what a Rottweiler looks like Mark?" "Yes, of course." "Pardon?" "Yes, Mistress Amber." "Good boy, I shall be the pedigree bitch between two rather large dogs." The line went dead. The phone call kicked me into a whirl of activity. I dug out some maps of London and found a large scale map of Green Park. I knew that the park was big but looking at the number of footpaths and walkways on it left me worrying that I could quite easily miss her. The great number of entry points to the park didn't help either, there was no way that I could cover them all, not even more than one at the same time. With a sigh I put the maps away and booted up my computer. I entered 'Mistress Amber' into a search engine and sat back to see what would come up. What did come up was a huge list of possibilities, far too many to go through. Even after narrowing it down to a search of London the list offered was too extensive to bother going through one by one. I was about to shut the thing down in disgust when a light bulb flickered on in my head. Back to the search engine and in went 'Executive Distress'. Bingo! Well, seven bingo's to be exact. The first link led me to a site bellowing to a health spa. The second to a massage service, the third link was dead or unobtainable and the fourth didn't seem to be doing a lot until the screen scrolled down black and a kind of portcullis appeared. I clicked the mouse over the gate and almost missed the flash of a photo. The picture showed a tall woman dressed in a black shiny, one piece outfit. The gateway opened and I thought I was getting somewhere until a log in window popped up and demanded my name and password. So, that was no good. I retraced my steps and tried to capture the flashed picture, only for another window popped up which read; "Think you are worthy do you?" The screen then blanked out to the initial black screen again. Had I learned anything from my research? Not one jot, okay, so the picture may or may not have been the mysterious Mistress Amber but I hadn't got enough of a look at her to say I could identify her again. There were so many paths in the park that I could easily miss her, presuming she turned up to walk her dogs. Something nagged at my mind at that point, a faint suggestion that I was missing something. I gave up thinking about it at that point and settled on a reconnaissance of the park. As ever the traffic in London was a nightmare, the rush hour always seems to start an hour earlier than anywhere else and ends an hour later too. By the time I nosed the car into a parking space on Down Street beside the Athenaeum Hotel opposite Green Park itself. I reached over to the glove box and cursed myself for having forgotten the map at the same time applauding myself for having the 'Doctor on Call' badge that should save me from a parking fine, or worse, a wheel clamp. Stepping from the car I had a view of the rear of Buckingham Palace itself and smiled ruefully, how come a kinky tart had the nerve to cavort in front of Buck House itself? I laughed to my self when I thought that someone from the Palace might even know more about Mistress Amber and her 'Executive Distress'. I found a tourist kiosk which was just about to close for the evening, catching the ever so unhelpful guide just in time to get my hands on a tourist map. "Thanks very much mate, you're a great advert for tourists to stay away from London," I told him, pocketing the little amount of change for the over priced map. My sarcasm was lost on him, a waste of effort on my behalf. I walked into the park and found a bench, sitting down and opening the map the sudden realisation that the map was actually a gold mine sprang to life before my eyes. There it was glaring out from the overly bright colours on the map marking the footpaths. Brown for the horse ride, red for pedestrian only paths, blue for cyclists routes and in a lovely figure eight track round the park in white? The nominated dog walking path. I saw there were ten entrances all round the park and guessed that there would be extra unofficial ones. Still the dog walking path only went passed four of them, so the odds were being cut all the time. Other than the car park I'd parked in by the Athaenium there were only three others close at hand, one by the Ritz, another by the Hilton and the third by The Four Seasons. All very exclusive and very high class, certainly not in the price range of an investigative journalist but were they out of the range for a professional Dominatrix? Truth be told I didn't know but I was going to do my best to find out. I set off round the dog walk, finding that the map didn't quite define the twists and turns of the path or the way it meandered round shrubberies and stands of trees. Plenty of places to lose site of oneself if that was what you wished to do, or to lose sight of your quarry if you had a target in mind. There were plenty of places where the path intersected with others so at least I had the option of short cutting my way across the park if I caught site of a likely individual. Another advantage would be that she would be forced to stay on the dog walking path, due to her being a dog walker. Obvious maybe but thinking like that helped me to focus on as many possibilities as possible. I noted that Constitution Hill was closed to traffic on Sundays so decided to travel on the tube to the Green Park station. This would put me on a pedestrian only path that intersected the dog walking route opposite the Park Lane hotel, thereby helping me to cover two car parks in a few minutes if I felt it necessary. On the way back to my apartment I figured that the timing of the meeting was going to be completely out of my hands. She'd said that she was going to be there at half past eleven but I didn't know if that was an arrival time or even a departure time. I estimated that it had taken me forty minutes to walk the route, so, add a few minutes to walk with dogs maybe an hour for her. So, if she left the park at eleven thirty, she'd arrive an hour and a little bit earlier. If she arrived at eleven thirty she would leave a little after twelve thirty. Of course the biggest possibility was that the meeting was scheduled for precisely eleven thirty. Instead of trying to work things out I decided to play it by ear, but my minds on other things and settled in front of the television for the evening. I was in bed by midnight and wide awake again by seven in the morning. After a hot shower I began to get my things together. Black ankle boot trainers, black jeans and a white shirt. Over the shirt a Barbour style coat within which was the miniature tape recorder, the tiny microphone ran on a wire round my back and up over my right shoulder to sit just beneath the collar of the coat. I considered a camera but figured that would be too noticeable, the pinhole cameras I had never give a very clear picture, I'd rely on staking out the address from which she operated, once I'd found out where it was. With my wallet tucked in jeans pocket and my apartment keys in the other I set off for the tube station at Canada Water. I had to change at Waterloo and was stepping out from Green Park station for earlier than I had imagined. Ten fifteen and alls well I though stepping into the park o be further surprised by the number of people out and about, from dog walkers to strollers, from model aircraft pilots to cyclists. People who talk about London nightlife should have a look at Green Park on a Sunday morning, this might not be very easy at all. I strode out on the first loop of the dog walk, trying not to look at my watch every five minutes. At the cross over point there was a kiosk selling the hottest, and likely the most expensive, coffee in London. The scalding hot coffee gave me time to sit and look about the place, seeing that I could see down three of the four legs of the dog walking route a hundred yards or so as they spread out from the intersection. The fourth was the path I'd just walked and I knew she wasn't on that one, least ways not in front of me. The thing was, that here wasn't one dog in site in any direction. Not even a royal corgi. Another check of the watch, ten forty, so, a loop around the second half of the route and back to the kiosk would be what, twenty minutes or so? Pushing towards eleven o'clock, half an hour away from decision time, and then what? I didn't know, and the decision was likely to be made by her and not me. At least I saw my first pair of dogs, not Rottweilers admittedly, more like, well, mongrels is probably the kindest word to describe them. Half way round, three quarters of the way round and I could see the kiosk in front of me again, slightly up hill and a little obscured by something that someone thought artistic. A horrible little yapping dog suddenly tore past me heading out across the open grass. Chased by the panicking owner waving a lead round his head, my eyes followed the chase for a little while until the dog suddenly turned tail and sped at twice the speed towards his owner. Beyond the dog I caught a brief glimpse of a white hat moving diagonally across the park to my left. A rise in the path brought a figure into view. White Burberry style knee length coat, below the hem knee high boots. Walking calmly either side of the boots were the biggest Rottweilers I had ever seen. As always when I was closing in on a story, or felt I was, my heart began to beat more rapidly, a flush of adrenalin lit up my nerve endings and I had to fight to control my breath. I saw her stop at the kiosk, buy something and then set off on the loop of the walk that I was close to finishing. So, would I be best retracing my steps and meeting her part way round or should I take a path that would intersect? My watch told me it was eleven o-five, I began to retrace my steps. I estimated that we would meet somewhere opposite Lancaster House, as it turned out I was quite impressed at my estimation. I caught glimpses of her progress through a stand of trees, I slowed my own approach to give me time to reach into my coat and switch the tape recorder on. I had my hands in the pockets of my coat just as she came round the bend in front of me. She glanced at me once then down at her dogs, then bent down to rub their huge heads with black gloved hands. Her boots shone with a high gloss black finish which made my mind wander a little bit. Closer and closer the gap between us closed until her soft voice reached me. "Stand still, let the dogs passed, they don't like having people in front of me." I decided not to push the point or argue with either her or the dogs. The one to her right gave me a look as they passed while I was still wondering what to do or say. At the last possible moment I managed to say; "Amber?" "Walk behind me, to the left of Bramble." I took it that Bramble was the dog to her left, it turned to look over its muscular shoulder, snorted once and then focused its gaze on the path ahead. "You're prompt Mark, I appreciate that," she said, just loud enough for me to hear but hardly loud enough for the microphone to pick up. "I didn't want to waste your time," I said to her back. "Your promptness earned you a point Mark, your failure to address me correctly has just caused you to lose it. Understand?" Okay, I was beginning to understand the rules of the game. "Yes Mistress Amber." "Pardon?" "Yes Mistress Amber." I repeated, a little louder. "Better. Now, what are you particularly interested in Mark?" "I'm not sure Mistress, I mean, what do you have to offer?" "Remember that you are being interviewed Mark, I'll ask the questions. Understand?" That wasn't in the plan, I'd hoped that she reveal something about what she got up to, not necessarily who with but at least a hint of what was going on. "Yes Mistress," I said, just as another dog walker passed me from behind. The dogs owner, best described as matronly, shot me a very strange look. I watched the reaction of the Rottweiler keeping pace beside the right boot. It looked t the dog passing it with such an obvious look of disgust that the other dog yelped and skipped to the right, taking the matron off the path and onto the grass. "Very well trained dogs Mistress," I observed once the matron was heading off at full sail. "All my animals are very well trained, very responsive Mark, are you?" "Erm, I believe so Mistress." "Do you smoke Mark?" "No Mistress." "Drink?" "A little Mistress." "Where do you work Mark?" "In the city Mistress." "Really? Interesting." "Not all that interesting Mistress." "Would you find this interesting Mark?" she asked without enlarging on what she meant. "What would that be Mistress?" I asked, hoping I wasn't out of line for some reason. "Being collared, naked, put on a lead and made to crawl on all fours in front of me. With Bramble to your left and Bracken to the right." "I'm erm, not sure Mistress." "Make your mind up Mark, the interview is almost over." "Mistress?" "Would you be interested or not, yes or no. I'd have thought it a remarkably easy question to answer." "Yes Mistress, I'd be interested." "At the kiosk you will turn right and continue walking. Do not look back over your shoulders, don't double back on yourself. If I can find use for you I will be in touch. Understand?" "Erm Yes Mistress." And that was about it, other than Bracken growling at me when I overtook her and turned right. You can't know how tempted I was to look back or indeed to double back on myself part way along the path. The trouble with having to play by other peoples rules is that if you don't follow them you're bound to lose. Even worse when you are trying to follow a lead, and I don't mean a dog lead. One of the first rules of journalism when you are trying to follow a story or to pull off a scoop is that you only push when you can push. In this case I couldn't push without losing the story and I really, really wanted it. The rest of the day saw me sitting in the flat trying to decipher what the tape could tell me. All that I got from it was a one way conversation, my voice, anyone hearing it might well have believed I was talking to someone over the phone who's name was Mistress Amber. Instead of revealing something about my quarry all the tape suggested was that I was the one leading a life less ordinary so I wiped the tape intending to report a mechanical failure if Angie asked me about it. She knew my methods and would have expected a lot more than what I had got, which was next to nothing. Even worse than that was that nothing else happened until the following Wednesday afternoon. I was sitting in Angie's office trying to avoid being put onto another story when my mobile phone began vibrating in my pocket. "Can I take a call Angie? My mobiles ringing." She raised her eyes in annoyance while I answered the call. "Mark Adam's," I said, watching Angie's eyes narrow in sudden interest. I was guessing that anyone seeking the real me would ring off presuming they had a wrong number. "Good afternoon Mark, I trust I find you well?" Amber's soft melodic voice rang in my ear. "Yes, very well thank you." "Are you alone Mark?" "Not at the moment no." "Well, this might be an ideal moment for you to show me how devoted to me you might become." "I don't understand?" I said, dreading what my instinct told me was coming next. "You do remember what my name is don't you Mark?" I pointed a warning finger at Angie and then held it to my lips. "Yes Mistress, my apologies." "Better. I take it that you know where Euston Station is?" This could be it, the address I was looking for! "Yes Mistress," I watched a smirk growing on Angie's face and again warned her with a pointed finger. "The Kennedy Hotel on Cardington Street, be there by four thirty. At the reception desk ask for the key to room 204." Closer and closer! I crossed my fingers and held them up for Angie to see. "Yes Mistress." "You'll find something there for you, when we next speak I want to hear all about it." "Mistress?" The line went dead. I looked at the phone in disappointment then over at Angie. "You sounded remarkably convincing there Dave, I can see why she might get off on being addressed as Mistress. I might have to demand that of the staff, what do you think?" "No chance Angie, you haven't got the high heels," I replied, hoping to keep away from what she thought of my side of the conversation. "So, what's next?" I explained what had been said and what I was supposed to do. "Well you better get on with it hadn't you 'Mark'," she shot me an amused look, "I'll find someone else to cover the premiere. Maybe I'll go with Rod?" Rod Clements was a very ambitious colleague, almost as ambitious as me. "Well if you can stand his bad breath for a couple of hours, I hope you have a wonderful evening." I got up to leave. "Did I give you permission to go Dave?" she smirked again. "May I leave please?" I sighed in exasperation, sure that news of my behaviour was soon going to be circulating the office. "You may go Dave, please close the door behind you, your Mistress needs some time to herself." Her smile broadened to a grin and then a deeply evil chuckle. I tried to slam the door behind me but forgot that it was fitted with a slow closing device which made my show of defiance all the more embarrassing. For once I made good time across the city, pulling up outside of the hotel after a sudden frantic search for it in the map book once I'd reached Euston. I took a little while to try and compose myself and then walked as confidently as I could into the lobby. On first impression I'd have given the hotel three stars, on second impression I decided on two. Were her standards slipping? At the desk I saw a very good looking blonde girl in an overly tight fitting crimson and white uniform. She gave me a dazzling smile and asked how she might help. It was only then that I realised how strange it might appear. Asking for a room key in a hotel to which I was a perfect stranger. "I'd like the key to room 204 please," I asked trying to fight down a mix of worry and embarrassment. "Ah yes, you must be Mr. Adam's, we've been expecting you." She turned to collect the key from its pigeon hole. What exactly had she been expecting and who had told her to expect me? "Oh by the way, be a dear and give a Mr. Adam's the key to 204? He's a prospective client?" I was blushing by the time she handed the key over, bringing a smile to her face that could have stopped traffic. "Third floor, the right hand corridor when you come out of the lift." I muttered my thanks and turned in the direction to which she pointed. I slumped against the wall of the lift once the doors closed, the rules of the game seemed intent on embarrassing me as much as possible, mostly publicly from what I could see. All too soon the lift doors were opening and I found myself at the junction of two corridors. Taking the one on the right I counted the numbers on the doors until I arrived outside of room 204. Not knowing at all what to expect I took a deep breath, put the key in the lock and opened the door. Into what appeared to be a functional and entirely empty hotel bedroom. My breath escaped my lips in a long gasp, unaware that I'd been holding it in a rye smile spread on my lips. There was a padded envelope on the bed which contained an audio tape and a video tape. There were no labels other than '1!' on the audio tape and '2!' on the video. I couldn't see anything in the way of a tape player, either audio or video and wondered if I was supposed to be taking them with me. It seemed odd that I would be dragged two thirds of the way across London just to collect them so I looked more carefully round the room until I found a midi hi-fi and all in one television video recorder in one of the cabinets and the foot of the bed. I put both tapes in their players and collected the remote control from the top of the equipment. Sitting back on the bed I pressed play on the audio tape player. There was a short silence until a husky voice that may or may not have been Amber's began to speak. "Good afternoon Mark, well done for following instruction. Just relax and listen to what I have to tell you, do exactly what you are told and we'll get along fine. The room is totally secure and you will not be disturbed." There was another short pause before the voice spoke again. "In the drawer to the right of the bed you will find a present from Bramble and Bracken. Get it now and then do exactly what I tell you to do." I leaned across and found a small white envelope, I opened it to find a broad gold coloured ring about an inch and a half across. "If you truly wish to know more about me and what I can offer you, well Mark, you must do as I tell you. A failure at this point on your behalf will bring you to the end of the line. I want you to undo your trousers and pull them down to your knees." Another pause in which I did nothing. "Do it now Mark." I had a sudden concern that she might actually be watching me. I'd come to one of those awful life and career defining moments. Go along with what was being suggested or to walk out there and then and lose what might have been the story of the century. I sighed to myself and eased down my trousers. "And the pants as well." Was she actually watching? Or was the timing just perfected over time? Either way I did as I was told and felt very self conscious with my nether regions openly on display. "Now slip the ring in place, I'm sure you know where it is to go?" Oh my God! Surely not? But regardless of God I did it. The gold coloured metal slid fairly easily along my length to the root, cold at first but warming slowly and not uncomfortable. "Good boy. Now you may press the play button for the video." I reached for the remote control and pressed the button. The screen flickered momentarily and then showed a girl with chestnut hair stripping slowly and seductively. Once she was down to her bra and panties another figure appeared. Dressed in the same kind of one piece glossy black suit that the woman in the flash picture on the website had been wearing. This time however the figure was hooded, the long blonde hair pulled out of the rear of the hood in a pony tail. This figure turned to look straight out from the television screen at me and licked her glossed red lips. Ice blue eyes stared out at me and then turned away to the girl with the chestnut hair. The two girls fell into a long kiss, and I felt a twitch in my groin. I glanced away from the screen and saw an erection forming, the gold ring tightening against my root until my penis was flat against my stomach, rigid and aching. A glance back at the screen showed the hooded figure bending to kiss the chestnut haired girls nipples then the screen went blank. The machine began to rewind itself and the voice returned from the audio tape. I had time to think later on just how well the whole thing had been timed. The whole thing was such a sophisticated set up that I was very impressed. I'll admit to being drawn in by the whole thing, the story seemed to get bigger and bigger at every step. "In the drawer to the left of the bed you will find a sheet of paper and a pencil. You are to write your address, in full, on it and then place the paper, video tape and audio tape in the envelope and take it down to the reception desk." The thought of having to do that was jaw dropping! Just how much did the reception staff know! "If you fail to leave your address then the ring will just have to stay where it is. This will eventually mean a very embarrassing visit to the Doctor's to have it removed. Try to slide it off now Mark." I did, it was stuck fast, and my erection wasn't going to disappear because the ring was stopping the blood from returning to the rest of me. At some stage it was going to get extremely painful down there, unless I, unless I managed to relieve myself of it. "No Mark, that would be a huge mistake." Was she a mind reader as well? "I will decide when you can do that Mark, you are mine, body and soul to do with whatever I choose. Understand?" "Yes Mistress Amber," the words spilled from my mouth without any intention to speak on my part. "Now tidy yourself up, tidy the room and take the padded envelope and the contents to reception." The audio tape clicked at the end of its run and began re-winding. In just a few minutes I was ready to go, my concern over handing the package in at reception was multiplied when I saw how obvious the bulge through my trousers was. There was little chance of it being missed and I almost fell to pieces when I saw that the girl on reception had been joined by an older woman. They took a studied, all-knowing look at me, there eyes traveling down to my groin, back up to my face and then smiled at each other. "I'll take that for you shall I Mr Adam's?" The older lady asked, opening the envelope and looking at the contents. She took out the piece of paper with my address on it and went through a door behind the counter without a word or a backward glance. "Goodbye Mr Adam's, I do hope you have enjoyed your stay?" The young blonde looked pointedly at the door towards which I hurried as best as I could. By the time I was sitting in my car my face was burning as red as a beetroot, matched only by the ache I was feeling a bit further down. The drive home was a nightmare, the traffic back to being horrendous my temper rising by the minute. I fumbled with my keys and dropped them at the door to my apartment, picking them up made my enforced erection dig against my belly, forcing me to gasp loudly. When I stood up I found myself staring straight into the eyes of one of my neighbours. Vanessa I think she was called, we're not all that sociable on my floor, she looked at my flushed face and then down at my groin, her eyes almost shooting out on stalks. I slid through the door, closed it behind me and lay back against it almost sobbing. I managed to get something approaching control over my breathing before staggering through to the shower. No amount of lubrication from shower gel or soap did anything to ease my predicament. If anything it was making it worse, every touch sent shock-waves of pleasure and pain through my body, erupting in my brain in a firework display. I gave up on the idea of being able to find a way out of it and stepped still dripping from the shower. I wrapped myself in a toweling robe and walked through to the lounge where I poured myself a very large whisky. I'd only just sat down with it when my mobile began to ring. I hugely begrudged the idea of moving to answer it but was driven with the need, just in case it was her. "Hello?" my voice was a low gasp. "That sounds very nice Mark, music to my ears in fact." "Mistress! Please, you've got to help me!" "Very good Mark! Pleading already! How much nicer it would be if you were to be kneeling down naked whilst you were doing it," her voice seemed more honeyed then ever and I have to admit I was hanging on every word. "I'm kneeling Mistress!" I moaned, shrugging my way out of the robe, not caring that I was in full view of the windows overlooking the river. It would need someone on the other side of the river to have a very powerful pair of binoculars to see me but that thought didn't occur to me until much later. "Good boy Mark, now sit up and beg like a dog!" she laughed. I found myself sitting up on my heels, back rigid, erection hugely purple sticking out in front of me. "Ask!" she snapped. "Woof!" Look, don't ask alright, you'd have to have been in that position to understand. "Good boy, now you just wait there for me Mark and I'll show you what I want you to do for me next." What the hell did she mean by that? The phone went dead in my hands, I gaped at it, still in that stupid begging position then heard something sliding through the letter box. I stood up, muscles burning and crossed, half staggered across to the door where I found an unmarked brown padded envelope sticking half way through the slot. I pulled it out fully and crossed to the sofa, grabbed my glass of whisky and gulped the contents down. After ripping open the top of the envelope I found a small self seal plastic bag in which there was a small gold coloured pin. A sheet of paper fell to the floor and a small ball wrapped in brown paper. I snatched up the paper and saw there was a short printed note. "Mark, The small pin will free the ring, should you wish to remove it. If you look at the ring carefully you will see a tiny square hole. Slot the pin into it and gently turn it to the right." It took an age to find the hole and it was a lot smaller than I could have imagined. It was even more difficult to fit the pin but it turned easily enough and the ring sprang open on a tiny hidden hinge. My relief was fleeting, a burning ache ripped every nerve ending in my body as the trapped blood tried to rush back to wherever it came from. I swear that the entire tower block must have heard my scream. Ages later it dawned on me just how much more painful things would have been had I slid the ring on and then failed to follow the set procedure. Playing by her rules might have been embarrassing and humiliating but failing to follow them could have extreme results. I also realised that I was also in far deeper than I could have imagined and it had all come about so quickly and easily. It was a greater shock to remind myself that she now knew my address while I knew how much about her? I picked up the paper again and finished reading it. "Much better Mark? Good, now you know that I will always relieve you Executive Distress when you're a good boy. The paper parcel is a lovely present for you darling, they'll do wonders to sooth you. Open it for me and use them well. Oh, by the way, the pin that unlocks the ring? It can only be used once Mark, so should you choose to put it on again you'll have to ask me nicely for another." I picked up the ring and eased the pin out, finding it twisted and that it wouldn't slip back into the slot again. I snapped the ring closed and put it on the table, then turned my attention to the small package wrapped in the brown paper. I peeled loose the one piece of tape that was holding it together and watched the parcel open up in front of my eyes. A soft white froth seemed to blossom in my hand taking the shape of a pair of satin French knickers covered with layer upon layer of satin ruffles, the legs trimmed with soft lace. Pink bows decorated the waistband and peeked out from among the ruffles. They were without doubt the most screamingly feminine article of clothing I had ever seen before in my life. I looked down to my groin and saw just how hot and angry my tortured length was, somehow knowing the slightest touch of anything rough or restrictive against it was going to inflame it all over again. Stepping into the knickers seemed to be the least of my worries at the time, in hindsight I see it now as another perfect piece of distant control. Need I describe how they felt as they slid up my legs and coolly and softly caressed me? I suppose I just have really. Suffice to say that they felt wonderful, soft and smooth after the pain I'd been in after removing the ring. I felt almost ridiculously relaxed and stretched out on the sofa staring out over the river without really seeing it. At some point I must have fallen asleep as I woke to the trill of the mobile phone. It took me a while to reach it, having to fumble about on the floor in the now dark apartment until my fingers found it. "Hello?" "Hi Mark, feeling nice and relaxed and comfortable now darling?" "Yes, thank you Mistress," my voice barely a breath. "I want you to go to bed now Mark, keep your lovely panties on and I'll stay with you until you're all nice and warm." I began to get to my feet but again was put in mind of her having a mind reading ability. "No Mark, don't get up, crawl on all fours." I almost ignored her instruction but found myself unwilling to do so. So, on hands and knees, one hand holding the phone to my ear I crawled to the bedroom and up onto the bed. "Lie down and close your eyes Mark, think of our walk in the park together, think of all you have seen and all you have heard. All that and more lies ahead of you Mark. All you need do is believe that all will be revealed, all that and more will be offered to you." I found myself listening for every inflection of her words, any hint or suggestion that I could pick up. My concentration was so intent that the rest of the world seemed to be closed out from me, all that existed was her soft, smooth voice. A cool seductive caress that had a physical reaction as well as a psychological one. "Touch it Mark, through your panties, they look and feel fantastic don't they?" "Yes Mistress," I whispered. "Ready for me now Mark? Ready to give yourself to me?" "Yes Mistress." "Ready to be owned heart and soul? Is that truly what you want?" "Yes Mistress Amber." "Say it again Mark, tell me what you want, touch yourself, stroke yourself, offer yourself to me Mark!" her voice took on a husky sweetness, an insistence that could not be denied. "I'm yours Mistress, yours to be own, heart and soul." "Good boy Mark, now don't spoil things by messing your panties will you darling? You'll need to wear them for me all day tomorrow." As much as I needed and wanted to come I didn't, I stopped my stroking there and then and fell asleep with her voice in my ear. "We'll speak tomorrow Mark, be a good boy for me and you'll be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams." The insistent ringing of the phone woke me in the morning. Not the mobile phone but the regular phone. I wandered through to the lounge bleary eyed and yawning. * * * * * "Hello?" "Are you coming in to the office today or do I just write you off?" "Angie? Hi, no, I'm coming in, I was just following up on something." "Really? Did you get something yesterday then?" "Not a lot, I'll fill you in when I get there." "No can do, I've been summoned to the Complaints Commission, not one of your pieces. So what about yesterday?" "Wild goose chase really, nothing at the hotel, but, well, I think I might have eyes on me if you see what I mean," I lied. "How come?" Angie asked. "Well, after going to the hotel I came back here. I got a brief call applauding me for being able to follow instructions. So, someone either has there eye on me hear or more likely was watching the hotel to see if I turned up or not." "You really think there's something in this then?" "Really Angie, I don't know what yet but there's something." "Okay then, keep at it but watch your back, don't get in too deep." "I'm okay, but thanks anyway." "Oh and Dave?" "Yeah?" "You've missed seeing some very nice heels today, tall spike heels I'm sure you'd love to kiss for me." "Behave Angie!" I half laughed but felt my groin stirring and a bulge grow in my panties, "My panties?" "How'd you like to behave for me Dave?" "Angie!" I objected. "Go on, call me Mistress, just once, just for me." "Angie!" I spluttered, watching the lump in my panties straighten, rigid and vertical beneath the softness of the satin. "I own you don't I?" "Yes!" I groaned softly, not knowing if she understood what she was doing to me. "Say it, say it for me!" Her voice was suddenly breathless a slight sob caught in her throat. I realised with a rush of pleasure that she was as turned on as I was. "Yes, yes Mistress, you own me, I'm yours my Mistress!" A sudden shudder slammed through my body, an explosion of pleasure I'd never have dreamed possible. Guilt just as suddenly ripped into my mind and I begged to myself that I hadn't messed my panties. "MMMmmmmmmmffffff!!!!" Came down the phone line, a high pitched gasp and then a heavy sigh. "OOOoohh! Dave that was incredible!" "I'm glad I pleased you, I hesitated, Mistress." "Our secret, just you and I, you don't tell anyone you're mine and I won't tell anyone you wear panties." I heard a click and stared in horror at the phone. She must have heard me begging to myself, I was suddenly terrified, in deeper and deeper with Mistress Amber and now a stupid mistake with Angie! My worry was interrupted by the arrival of the post. I wandered across to it and picked up the small pile of envelopes that had dropped onto the floor. The phone bill I tossed to one side, likewise the junk mail from a credit card I was never going to apply for. A small brown envelope with the name of the buildings owners caught my eye. On opening it I discovered a brief note informing me that the building supervisor needed access to my apartment to check the electrical wiring and could I leave a key with the caretakers office. Finally I came to a neatly addressed large size envelope that hadn't been stamped or franked. It must have been dropped off at the front desk and delivered along with the normal post by the buildings services people. My hear skipped a beat on opening it where I found a key taped to a small piece of card and a printed list of instructions, signed by hand at the bottom, "Your Mistress Amber." Perched on the sofa I read the note. "Dress as you did for our walk in the park. Take the tube to Edgware where you will find the key opens a luggage locker, number 17. In it you will deposit a bunch of a dozen white roses, a box of Belgian chocolates and a bottle of Moet Chandon Champagne as an offering to my alter." My breathing became more rapid as I read further. "From the locker you will take an addressed envelope which contains a key to the front door of the house to which the address applies. The envelope will also contain a ticket for the left luggage office at Euston mainline railway station. Hand in the ticket and then take a cab to the address on the envelope. You will receive further instructions once inside." My heart was hammering away in my chest now. "You must follow these instructions to the letter and in order. You are very close to me now Mark, don't disappoint me now or let yourself down." Then came the signature. After checking the tube map I was sitting gaping at the distance I was going to have to travel. Finally I gave up in frustration and thought I might as well get on with it. If she was telling the truth and I had no reason to believe that she was, I was close to finding out at least something about what she did and who with. There was also the haunting memory of what had so far happened to me and I openly admit that I was more than a little taken by it all. The shopping took longer than I had imagined, but eventually I was on my way. I could see people casting me looks on the tube, what were they imagining? A young man making a romantic gesture to his girlfriend? Someone trying to make up in his partners eyes for some misdemeanour? Or someone submitting to the orders of a distant mysterious woman? I hated having to change at Waterloo only to have to go through Euston knowing that I was only going to have to retrace my steps I felt a real idiot at Edgware, people clearly saw me putting the gifts in the locker and I felt really furtive removing the envelope and hurrying back down to the platform that would take me back to Euston. The journey was uneventful, likewise the handover of the ticket at left luggage. In return for the ticket I received an oversized shoulder bag which no matter how many times or angles you looked at it was most definitely made with a female in mind. The address on the envelope had said only '33A Haberdasher Street'. The bag itself was locked with a small padlock for which there was no key so I had no clue to its contents. It wasn't particularly heavy and the side pockets were empty. When the cab dropped me off having already passed by Old Street tube station I wasn't overly impressed. The cab fare and the gifts having cleared me out of most of my cash. '33A Haberdasher Street' turned out to be a ground floor flat. There didn't appeared to be anybody about but it didn't stop me from feeling very suspicious in myself when I unlocked the door and stepped inside. A short hall way led me to a choice of three doors. I say choice when in fact there was only one that wasn't locked. I opened this door and walked into what could only be described as a boudoir. Wall mounted soft lights lit the room, a large double bed covered with a single crimson sheet. A large dark wood wardrobe stood to the left next to a dressing table lit up by lights surrounding the large gilded mirror. There was a night stand to one side of the bed. Standing on it was a small radio cassette, there was a tape already in it. To the right, in the corner was another door, which led through to a well appointed bathroom. I put the bag on the bed and moved over to the cassette and pressed the play button. "Hello Mark, thank you for the offerings you have made, you really all coming along well aren't you? Closer and closer to me at every moment. Now I want you to relax and just enjoy your time here. Firstly I want you to have a long soak in the bath. I want you to strip off entirely and hang your clothes in the wardrobe. Do so now. Once you are naked I want you to kneel on the bed facing the mirror and blow yourself a kiss. I felt incredibly stupid doing so but then again it was a lot less embarrassing than I'd felt earlier. I knelt there I while and was wondering if I should go straight to the bathroom, the tape sprang to life at that point and told me to use the tube of soap that I'd find in the bathroom cabinet. "Now stop the tape and only switch it on after you have enjoyed your soak." So far so good and not too humiliating. The bath was deep and the water piping hot, the tube in the cabinet was silver, about the size of a regular toothpaste tube. It was odourless but produced and amazing amount of suds, thick and frothy, tingling on my skin. I almost fell asleep so relaxed did I begin to feel. Only when I almost slipped under the water did I snap out of my reverie. I stood up and found the suds were still clinging to me. Reaching down to the plug I pulled it and then reached up and switched on the shower above my head, the better to rinse the suds away. I watched the swirl of the water disappearing down the plug hole, the froth seemingly flecked with dark speckles. Puzzled I looked more closely and saw thousands of little hairs washing away. A glance at my body showed me that I was completely hair free. One touch of my finger along my thigh taught me that not only was I hair less but my skin was extremely soft. There was a small towel hanging on a rail on the back of the bathroom door. On a hook to the side of it was a short ivory satin robe, which felt liquid soft to my fingers. I fought a sudden urge to slip into it and lost. Once it was about me I shivered in utter pleasure, my erection was insistent and rigid, there being no belt to tie the robe closed it poked out in front rather obviously. Stepping back into the bedroom come boudoir sent me shivering again, the soft satin caressing me seemingly all over. I pressed the play button on the cassette recorder again and heard Mistress Amber sigh. "Feel better now Mark? I thought you might, if you'd like to feel even nicer why don't you have a drink?" I wondered what she meant until the soft suggestive and seductive voice continued. "In the cupboard of the night stand," I opened the door and found a tall paper cup, like the ones you get in fast food restaurants. A straw stuck out of the top of it. "There you go, a little reward for being so good so far." I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, seeing me in a newly softened light, almost androgynous. "Let me see those lips of yours sucking Mark, cheeks sucking in to taste the golden cream." She was right in one way at least, the thick liquid in the cup was certainly difficult to suck up through the long straw. It tasted extremely sweet, much like a milk shake in consistency. Perhaps if I'd been thinking straight I would have refused the drink but the first taste of whatever it was made me very greedy for more. I watched myself in the mirror, lips pursed to suck it all up, cheeks drawing tightly inward, so much so that my cheek bones became very much more defined. The exertion seemed to leave me slightly light headed and I barely heard what the voice on the tape was now telling me. "Under the tape recorder you'll find the key to the bag. I want you to open it and lift the contents out onto the bed." I wasn't in a stupor, nor a true dream like state. The feeling was almost as if I was watching myself doing as I was told from afar. First out was a soft white satin bra, next came a pair of white lace stockings with frills all round the welt. A white lace body stocking came next, full of frilled satin across the low neckline and across the shoulders. A suspender belt followed, deep cut and with some kind of stiffeners slipped through it to form panels. I noted the six suspenders almost without registering them. A full wig felt so soft to my fingers that it ran like water through them. The same soft brown as my own hair but much longer than mine. Finally a pair of open toed white sandals with cross over straps that looked as though they would reach and fasten with small silver buckles above the ankles. The heels were at least four inches though the detail at that time didn't really matter. "Put them on for me Mark, let me see you dressed in them." Again the words seemed distant, yet so very close at hand. My concentration was drifting back and forward, half feeling I wanted to, half knowing that I shouldn't. And yet, no one would know would they? I was safe and secure, call it an experiment into, into what exactly? It wouldn't hurt any would it, just this once? "I would really like you to wear them for me Mark, just so you know how much pleasure I can give you. Do this for me and I'll show you wonders you can't comprehend." That was all that it took, hearing Amber's voice, imploring, not demanding. I reached for the first lace stocking and there was no turning back. There was a thin rubberised strip on the inside of the welt of each stocking which made them cling to my soft thighs and held them secure. Even more secure once the six suspenders were clipped to them, the suspender belt itself clung to me, seeming to trim my slim waist even further if my reflection was anything to go by. Once I had the bra on, after a fumble with the rear fastening clasp, my whole body was tingling. The sandals seemed to have been made for me though the heels did look a little intimidating. I didn't dare stand up for fear of toppling over and breaking an ankle, but, once I got the wig on I was just so desperate to see what the full length image of me looked like that I opened the wardrobe and carefully stood up in front of the mirror fitted to the inside of the door. The androgynous look was still a suggestion until but much softer, much more feminine. I stepped carefully forward and retrieved my French knickers and slipped into them. Completing the outfit to my mind and hiding the erection that reared up against my stomach. Her words reached to me again. "Touch your lovely clothes, feel how perfect they feel against your body. Love them, live for them, look at how perfect they look on you. Do you like what you see Mark? Like what you feel?" My reply was the softest of whimpers as I watched my fingers slowly caressing myself all over. Hitching the short satin puffed sleeves a little off the shoulder so my bra straps were on display. That made me look all the more, virginal, and quite a lot sexier to my mind. I watched myself cupping non existent breasts and feeling rather sad. Standing up again I marveled at the way my leg muscles were stretched by the heels, by the new stance they forced me to adopt. Standing taller and straighter, seemingly slimmer and altogether softer, more, female. "Just you enjoy yourself Mark, lie back and relax, allow the feelings to soak into you. Remember how each tiny little sensation meant so much, so soft and so welcome. So perfectly natural, remember how you feel now and how much pleasure I am giving you through my gifts. There's so very much more to come Mark, just give yourself up to the lovely feelings." I rifted off into a dream like state where every nerve end tingled. Each pore seemed to soak up the sensations, where every touch or movement had so much meaning to it. How long I lay back on that big wide bed I don't know. I think remember sending quite some time to look at myself in the mirrors, posing one way and another, pouting and smiling to myself as I moved, moving as sensually as I could and finding that my enjoyment grew the more that I pouted, primped and preened. How much later was it that I came out of my reverie? I honestly haven't a clue. I know that I was loathe to change back into my mundane clothes and I know that I didn't. By the time the cab I was in was approaching my apartment building I was acutely very aware that under my shirt and jeans I was still wearing the lingerie. The bag beside me contained the wig, the sandals and my socks, other than that I was dressed in my snow white satin and lace finery. After paying the cab driver off I stepped out onto the kerb and felt the breeze keenly. Worrying that someone might see the white lace of my stockings above my ankle high boots I hurried into the building only to be called over to the caretakers little office. "Evening Mr. Stark, package here for you." "Oh, right, when did it arrive?" "Don't know Mr. Stark, it was here when I came on duty." "I see, right then, thanks a lot." I was about to move off when I remembered the electrical survey. "Were the electrics alright?" "Sorry, Mr. Stark?" "There was an electrical inspection of my apartment today wasn't there?" I asked, worry gnawing suddenly in my stomach. "Not that I'm aware of, there's nothing in the book." "Right, my mistake then, must have read it wrong." I left the counter, got round the corner and sped off to the lifts without even thinking about the box under my arm. I reached the apartment without bumping into anyone, locked and bolted the door behind me. There seemed to be nothing amiss at first glance. Lounge seemed to be as it should. Kitchen looked as untidy as normal as did my bedroom, until I decided to look in my wardrobes. It hit my eyes as soon as I opened the first door, a suit bag that I instantly knew wasn't mine hung there with a large white bow tied round the hanger. I lifted it out and found it locked by the now familiar luggage padlock. There was a large silver envelope stuck to it with tape that I pulled off. Lifting the suit bag through with me to the lounge I lay it over the back of the sofa and then sat down with the envelope. I found that it had been hand written. "Hello Mark, hope you don't mind me dropping the bag off. I know you won't mind in the least, you certainly won't object anyway will you? I do hope you enjoyed yourself today and if you get thirsty at all then have a look in your fridge, there are some more little presents there for you. I do hope you like the contents of the box, I think its just about perfect. The little extra's will just about finish it off I think." "Your Mistress, Amber." I opened the parcel and found a bottle of silver metallic nail polish, a set of long unpainted false nails, three different lengths of silver chain attached to thin silver grey metal bands covered in white fake fur. There was another printed set of instructions and a video box. "Have a refreshing drink Mark and then sit back and watch the video, I'm sure you'll love it. The longer chain runs from wrist to wrist, behind your back, the medium length chain runs from above the knee to the other, the shorter length runs from ankle to ankle but I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that. As for the nail varnish, paint your toe nails before bed, the false nails too but leave them for tomorrow. You will sleep in your finery won't you Mark, all nicely safe and secure in your chains." Dazed and confused I walked through to the kitchen, in the refrigerator I found five large paper cups, all with straws sticking out of the sealed tops. As soon as I saw them I felt a clenching in my stomach and found myself greedily reaching for one. By the time I returned to the lounge I had shrugged out of the shirt and trousers and had my stockings off. Painting my toe nails took a lot of concentration that was difficult to find as my mind seemed to be wandering back to the small bedroom. Finally I sat back and while the varnish was drying I managed to fit the knee chain. The cuffs weren't too tight but hung rather sexilly just above each knee. I checked the varnish was dry before sliding the wonderful stockings back up my legs, clipping the suspender straps secure and taught over my thighs but from beneath my panties. Ankle cuffs next, then the lovely sandals. Next my lovely long wig, settled nicely in place before fitting the wrist cuffs. I appreciated the restriction of movement almost immediately, loving it instantly. There was enough play, just, in the wrist chain to allow me to paint the long false nails, a task I thoroughly enjoyed. By the time I was done I was loving every intense second of my self imposed captivity. Dressed entirely in softly seductive wide lingerie, sitting on my sofa in my newly learned euphoria I watched the video tape. It showed someone undressing completely, disappearing from view through a door in the corner of a softly lit room. When the figure emerged it looked a little bemused, uncomfortable in someway. Masculine obviously, they erection sticking out through the folds of the satin wrap were a sure give away. Until the voice spoke, then a soft smile grew on the figures lips, masculinity slipped away, the maleness hidden within the wrap. Androgynous, sexless, between the two, the male and the female merged. Once it had been encouraged to suck on the straw sticking out of the large paper cup the scene shifted again. Within moments a cool calm confidence appeared, blossoming as the creature draped itself in soft white lingerie. Once the wig was in place this new attitude blossomed and asserted itself. Femininity surfaced and spread with every passing second, cajoled and encouraged to sink into the new character at every turn until there was little link between the original figure stepping into the room and that which now posed and pouted for the character. I found myself slipping easily back into the wondrous dreamlike state I'd found so welcoming that afternoon. The tape finished with the haunting words echoing through my memories, impressing their will upon me. The real me seemed to be pushed ever back into myself and the space left behind became filled with wonders I could never have perceived. The chains restricted my movements to the bedroom, keep them shortened and more considered. The high heels offering even more of a clue to the enforced nature I was embracing. Once on the bed it didn't seem to be at all important to switch off the lights, even less important was it to restrict my touching and caressing, my writhing and cavorting. I gave in to the sensations wholly and in utter wanton abandonment until I was engulfed with a myriad of colours which tipped me over the edge. On waking it seemed nothing more than ordinary to glance down my satin clad body with pleasure. I slipped from the bed and carefully and gracefully walked across to the letter box. I collected the single envelope that stuck through it and took it with me to the kitchen where I picked out the much needed cup from the fridge. The envelope contained a small plastic bag, within it I could see a release pin which I would no doubt have to use later. A letter awaited me, handwritten once more. "So close to discovery now Mark, so close that I can almost reach out and touch you this morning. You really don't feel like work today do you darling? Why not call in sick and watch the lovely girl in the video?" I found myself agreeing with the words even as they leapt out from the page at me. "And I think a nourishing drink every three hours should do the trick. I shall be speaking to you this afternoon Mark and you will be in my presence this evening. Look forward to our meeting greatly as a whole world of pleasure is awaiting you. Until later then my pet, Your Mistress, Amber." I watched the tape through again, feeling myself falling further and further into a rapture with what I was seeing. It was a wrench to pull myself away from the screen but there was plenty of time wasn't there? Vacantly I crossed to the phone and dialed the office number, moments later I was being connected with Angie Bergstrum's office. Knowing the name was familiar to me but not quite knowing why I sucked the dregs of the milky drink through the straw. "Good Morning, Angie Bergstrum speaking." A sort of familiar voice I thought idly to myself. "Hi! I'm afraid I'm not well enough to come in this morning." "Dave? Is