Chapter 2: Helen Began to Explore

After her weekend filled with fantasies and erotic images and with more and stronger orgasms than she had ever had before, Helen woke up satisfied. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t get up before the alarm clock went off, take a near-cold shower, have breakfast with just a cup of coffee, or rush off to get to the office much earlier than the normal starting time.

She took it easy in the morning, had a good breakfast, and arrived only five minutes before the normal starting time, just as everyone was starting to enter the office. Her personal assistant, Katherine, who always arrived well before the start time so that she could arrive at the same time as Helen and attend to her many requests, looked at her in surprise and asked, “Good morning, Helen, did something happen to you? Did the car break down?”

‘Good morning, Kate, No, I wanted to rest today and have a leisurely breakfast.’

Kate looked at her in astonishment, as if Helen had said she wanted to rob a bank or burn cars today.

Helen walked into her office and sat down. She was quickly absorbed by her work. The constant calls, meetings, and consultations took up all her time, and she had little time to think about the weekend. But when Kate told her she had a lunch meeting with potential clients, she remembered the restaurant scene she had read about in ‘Story of O’ and how it had turned her on to imagine herself naked and being fucked by several men at a table.

Throughout the meal, Helen’s mind flashed back to exciting images that distracted her. She would look at one of the men at the meal and imagine him getting up, standing behind her, making her stand up, and then leaning over the table, lifting her skirt, pulling down her panties, unzipping his fly, pulling out his cock, and thrusting it all the way in. After fucking her roughly for a while, he came inside her. When he withdrew, another of the men took his place and fucked her as well. This went on until all four men had come inside her.

Helen found that her vagina was very wet, and she had to strain to concentrate. It was only through her professionalism and self-control that she was able to continue the conversation and the meeting.

When she got back to the office, she washed up and had a quick freshen up before diving back into work, which had her totally absorbed. That afternoon, instead of staying several hours like she usually does, she told Kate she could leave just half an hour after the end of the day, which surprised her assistant even more.

Helen went to the car, and once there, she took her own phone instead of the company one because there was a strict policy on sexual or pornographic use of company material. She looked for sex shops between her home and the office.

Once she found the shop, she put the address into the GPS and headed there. When she got there, she saw a simple door with a sign above it that read: ‘Sex Fantasies’. She hesitated before going in, as she’d never been in a shop like this before. The toy she had was a gift from a friend, and she wasn’t sure what to expect. On top of that, she was worried that someone she knew might see her. She finally made up her mind and went into the shop with a firm step.

The shop was larger than it looked, and at the counter was a middle-aged, balding, slightly overweight man. Helen wandered among the shelves, looking at all the products on display with interest. She also looked at a section with films. She saw that there was a door with a sign saying ‘Video Rooms’, but she didn’t go in.

Finally, she bought some black leather handcuffs, a black leather collar, a rather large vibrating dildo, and a film called ‘Training of a Disobedient Slave’ (see final note *), which was described as showing a slave being taken to a mistress to be whipped, fucked, and teased into a more submissive and obedient slave.

Helen went home and, in the bedroom, undressed and put on the collar and handcuffs. She looked at herself in the mirror and imagined she was a slave, with her whole body exposed for her master’s pleasure. She ran her hands over her body, imagining they weren’t hers. She pictured other hands, her master’s or even another man’s, caressing her. As she ran her hand over her breasts, following the natural curve they formed, she felt her nipples become erect and hard. Her hand went back to her sex, and she noticed some moisture between her lips, which were already a little swollen and turgid.

She kneeled in front of the mirror and put her hands behind her back, her legs apart and her head looking down. She saw a submissive woman in front of her, a slave attentive to obeying her master. Her breasts rose and fell in rhythm with her breathing, slightly agitated, her long slender legs apart showing her sex, her head bent downwards, as she had read in the stories, showing submission.

Then she put her hands under her breasts, raising them slightly, offering them up, caressing the erect nipples with her thumbs, and imagined herself saying, ‘Master, this body is yours; use me however you like.’

After a while, she tried out a few different positions, then suddenly stood up, thinking, ‘What am I doing?’ This is all nonsense! These are ridiculous fantasies! I’m a high-ranking executive with a lot of power. I’m not a submissive woman who has to obey anyone.

She took off her handcuffs and collar, put on a bathrobe, made herself a quick dinner, and then picked up the computer and started working on one of the projects she had in hand. After a while, though, she told herself, ‘I think I’ve done enough work. I deserve a break.’ I think I’ll watch TV for a while.

Once she was in front of the TV and had checked a few channels, she decided there was nothing interesting on. She thought about the film she’d bought and decided that, since she’d paid for it, she might as well watch it. She took the DVD and put it into the home cinema player she still had.

When she saw the bound slave girl with the hood hiding her face, she got aroused and imagined that the hidden face was her own and that she was suffering from everything that was being done to her.

Soon she had one hand inside the open bathrobe, rubbing her breast intensely, while the other hand slowly stroked her clit, aroused but trying to delay the moment of climax, enjoying the contradictory feeling of wanting to reach orgasm and at the same time wanting to prolong the excitement as long as possible. As she watched the mistress whip the slave, she pinched her nipples and clitoris hard, trying to imagine what it would feel like to be whipped in such sensitive areas of the female anatomy. As the slave was then massaged and brought to the brink of orgasm, she imagined what it would feel like not to be able to cum. She delayed her climax as long as possible, but gradually her breathing quickened, and she began to gasp and moan. The hand on her sex had two fingers inside her dripping vagina, thrusting desperately in and out, the palm of the hand massaging her clit until she could hold back no longer, and with a gasp she climaxed, a powerful orgasm making her shudder and her whole body tremble, an indescribable pleasure running through her whole body, with no definite centre.

Once she’d caught her breath, she turned her attention back to the film. Once more, she masturbated while watching the film, and once more she reached a massive orgasm despite trying to delay it. When the film finished, she went to bed and had to take a shower because she was sweating a lot and her vagina, hand, and thighs were covered in vaginal fluids. As she showered, she thought about why she was attracted to these fantasies and, more specifically, why, if they turned her on, she tried to delay her orgasm.

She figured the former was probably a way of ‘letting off steam’ and taking some of the enormous responsibility she had in her job and also in her rigidly planned life. In these fantasies, she didn’t have to make any decisions. It was a way of relaxing and letting go of the stress of decision-making and responsibility. That was why they were fantasies, she thought. They were something she didn’t want to be real, but they appealed to her because they were so different and unrealistic. Helen decided that she would never again feel guilty about imagining such scenes. She wasn’t doing anyone any harm by getting off on fantasies like that, and it certainly wasn’t something she believed in real life. She would never think of actually submitting to a man so that he could use her.

She thought that there were two reasons for delaying the orgasm: firstly, she wanted to prolong the sensation as much as possible; secondly, as a slave, it was her master’s decision whether or not she could orgasm, given that they owned her body. Prolonging her desired orgasm helped her to immerse herself more in the fantasy. It was a way of relinquishing control over her body. Being unable to orgasm when she desperately craved it made the fantasy more tangible. Helen was unaware that another factor was influencing her decision to delay her orgasm. She felt a sense of guilt at becoming aroused by thoughts of women being humiliated and sexually assaulted. This was at odds with her belief in the equality of men and women.

After the shower, she lay naked on the bed. She put the handcuffs and collar back on, picked up the vibrator, and started using it on her sex. She could feel her lips opening and moistening as if waiting for penetration. She was soon able to slowly insert the thick cylinder. She felt the walls of her vagina open up as the vibrator made its way deep inside her sex.

When she had the vibrator fully inside her, Helen switched it on and turned off the light. Then she slipped the chain of handcuffs behind one of the bars at the head of the bed. She stood tied like that, with her arms above her head and fastened to the headboard. The chain was attached to the handcuffs with small carabiners, so she could free herself whenever she wanted, but she liked to imagine that she was a prisoner and that the vibrator was the cock of one of her captors, who was fucking her.

Slowly, her arousal increased. The vibrator produced an excitement that slowly spread from her sex all over her body. Her nipples became rock hard, and her breathing quickened.

Helen struggled, bound as she was, pulling on her arms and arching her body. She imagined that a man was fucking her, tied up and unable to defend herself. She squeezed her thighs together as if trying to avoid penetration, though all she could achieve was to increase the pressure against the vibrator and thus the excitement it caused her. She imagined a muscular, sweaty body lying on top of her, crushing her, biting her nipples, penetrating her mouth violently with his tongue, and rubbing her body with big, rough hands. And above all, she imagined a big cock penetrating her to the core, ramming into her cervix, brutally breaking through.

Finally, after much struggling, she could take no more and burst into an unstoppable climax that coursed through her body. She lay still, resting and catching her breath, but the vibrator was still unyielding, working its way inside her wet, sensitive vagina. She imagined that the fluids oozing from her vagina were the sperm of the man who had fucked her and cum inside her, and that the vibrator was another man who had taken the place of the previous one and was fucking her and enjoying her body.

After a while, another orgasm swept through her. By this time, her vagina was dripping and the vibrator tended to slip out and escape, but she squeezed her legs together to avoid it and retain the sensation. She stayed relaxed for a while, but slowly the vibrator and the images running through her head began to drive her towards a new orgasm.

For a long time, the orgasms followed one after the other, growing weaker and weaker, as did her body, which was exhausted. With almost no strength left and no clear head to release herself from the handcuffs, she fell asleep, the vibrator running inside her, as she dreamt of man after man fucking her and cumming inside her.

When the alarm clock went off in the morning, Helen’s hands were still tied to the headboard; the vibrator had escaped from her vagina, and the batteries had run out. Despite the physical exhaustion and the dreams that had filled her mind during the night, Helen felt very rested. She untied herself and went to take a shower. She didn’t take as long as the day before, but her breakfast was more substantial than just coffee. She needed to regain her energy after a night of fantastic sex. She thought that even these fantasies helped her do her job better, so why not continue to enjoy them? She was feeling very lively and clear-headed.

During the day at the office she concentrated on her usual tasks, although from time to time images of the books she had read and the film she had seen came to her mind. That day her assistant did not notice anything unusual about her, as she had the day before, and thought that perhaps Helen had had a bad weekend.

On one of the occasions when Helen left her office and went to another floor, Helen passed one of the cleaners. He was a very tall, broad-shouldered, strong man with a red face, short hair, a beard, and a lot of hair all over his body. His face showed little intelligence, something Helen had noticed when she had once questioned him. His physique, however, was impressive.

Into Helen’s head came the image of the cleaner grabbing her arm, pulling her into the cleaning room, bringing her to her knees, and forcing her to give him a blowjob. She imagined herself on her knees between buckets and brooms, with her lips stretched around a thick, long cock, which had to be that way if it was proportionate to the man’s body. She imagined the cock reaching the back of her throat, making her gag and nauseous. In her imagination, she saw herself moving her head back and forth, taking more and more of the huge shaft into her mouth, until finally he came and ejaculated a massive amount of semen that filled her mouth and ran down the corners of her lips.