The words to the old Nat King Cole favorite ran through her mind again and again as the plane began its final descent into Charles de Gaulle airport. For years, she had hated her mother for naming her after an old, hokey song, but as she matured she had learned to appreciate it and eventually to love it for the feelings it evoked when his smoky voice drifted from the speakers.

April glanced at her watch. "About time for me to get ready", she mused. "I can't believe I'm actually going through with this insane idea, but as long as I'm here, then I might as well go all the way."

She excused herself to the businessman sitting between her and the aisle and headed for the bathroom to prepare herself. Wyden had told her to meet him with nothing under her dress but Ben Wa balls. She had waited until the last moment to prevent her seat mate from becoming obnoxious as he might certainly have done if she had begun squirming in her seat and rubbing the itch that the Ben Wa balls always created. She expected to do a little squirming, but thought she could hide it in the expected excitement of landing in Paris for the first time.

As April slid across to her seat, she was certain that she heard a quick intake of breath and a couple of querulous sniffs. She smiled to herself at the power she had to control men with the slightest effort and made sure she kept her librarian face on straight.

"I really can't believe that I'm doing this. Oh look! There's the Eiffel Tower and the Arc d'Triomphe and the Seine and..." The words died in her throat as she struggled to take it all in at once and to assimilate the reality of having actually gone through with his crazy scheme.

It had started as a harmless flirtation. Flirting in person always had a certain element of danger. One could never be certain that the flirtee wasn't mentally unbalanced or incapable of understanding that she intended nothing beyond the flirting. In a couple of painful instances, she had narrowly escaped without a major scandal when someone she had no intention of allowing next to her decided to up the ante way beyond her limit.

Then came the Internet with its promise of total anonymity. She was able to flirt to the utmost degree. She could even promise sexual favors she had only dreamed of participating in, without fear of having to follow through. When asked for a picture, she would send something she found on the Net that looked like the person she was mentally impersonating. What was the harm in it? No one was hurt and her life became much more interesting when she was able to blithely provide complete strangers with the stuff of dreams.

April worked as a small town librarian and had settled into a humdrum sort of existence with a gentle and devoted husband who tried his best to satisfy her every whim without realizing that one man could never completely satisfy her unspoken whims. In earlier times, she had taken many chances at losing her happy home for the sake of a little spice. Then came the Internet. Saved by the 'net!

Now, after having found a safe outlet for her life-enhancing fantasies, she had fallen into a cleverly designed trap.

"Congratulations!", the notice had said. "Your story has been selected as the "Best in Category" for the month of January. Due to a generous bequest from one of our sponsors, your award is an all-expense paid trip for one person to Paris, France."

April had read and reread the notice until the phosphor was starting to dim on her screen. Was it real? Could it possibly be real? Try as she might to remain skeptical, the idea started to take root in her imagination. She saw herself dancing down the Champs Elysee in a flaring 50's style skirt like Cyd Charisse wore in some of those old movies they showed at the library sometimes.

Suddenly, it dawned on her. She dashed off a hot note to one of her ardent admirers that had been wanting to meet her for a long time. "Wyden, that was a dirty trick! Shame on you!"

"What's dirty about a week in Paris, my love? The award may be phony, but the offer is real. The only catch is that I get to join you there. No other strings are attached. You will not be required to do one thing you do not wish to participate in (as long as you don't mind a dangling participle or so). Meet me in Paris for a weekend and let me show you the city I love."

"I can't possibly do that", she responded. "Too many people I love and respect would be hurt or upset if I just took off like that. You're sweet to make the offer, but I can't possibly accept. Thank you for making my day, but no thanks."

Now, she sat by the window with the steel balls clinking inside and felt her temperature rise as she watched the City of Light grow closer. "What was it he finally said that made me agree to this ridiculous notion? I can't even remember now. Well, I'll just have to take the next plane home and find some way to repay him for the trip over."

There was no opportunity to remove the Ben Wa balls before the plane landed, or to replace her panties, so April walked gingerly up the gangway to immigration, terrified that the balls would fall out if she took one step too long. Their clinking added to her consternation now, more than to her sexual readiness, although she could sense the moisture generated by her earlier reaction and worried that it would allow the balls to slide out at the worst possible moment. She looked around vainly for a restroom, but apparently they were all situated after immigration.

After what seemed to be an interminable delay, April emerged from customs with her bag and a furious determination to find a restroom.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

The voice behind her stopped her in her tracks. There was a familiar quality to it and an underlying meaning that she was certain she understood, but couldn't quite place. She tried to ignore it and continue to the restroom to rid herself of those damned balls before they rolled across the lobby, leaving snail trails in their wake.

"Stop now!"

It wasn't a shout, but it was said with a degree of mastery that made her legs weaken and threaten to spill her.

She stopped.

"Close your eyes and stand up straight", said with the same tone--undemanding, yet confident of her compliance. How did he know of her need to be dominated? Ah! Of course. He had read her stories and realized that they contained more than a bit of wishful thinking. Whatever created her need held her firmly rooted to the spot as he came from behind and pulled her quivering body back against his rigid one.

She felt something metallic against her lips, but it became leather as it was slid across them, then metallic, then leather. Ah, it was a metal-studded belt of some kind. It was rubbed across her lips, then her breasts and as it descended toward the Valley of the Balls, she felt a large hand cup her braless breast through her dress. His fingers manipulated her rapidly swelling nipple while his other hand raked the studs across her outthrust mound.

The urge to open her eyes to see the response of her fellow travelers to her plight was almost overwhelming, but he had told her to keep them closed and so she would. Another gush of liquid nearly dislodged the balls but she squeezed her thighs together more tightly and tried to stand a little straighter.

Just before her body exploded in response to the fire he had lit, the collar was removed from her vee and secured about her throat.