Chapter 8: The Fifth Lesson

Another morning arrived, and I snapped awake, but didn't open my eyes. A ring of warmth was slowly enveloping the head of my penis, and I recognized it as the feel of her soft lips pushing my foreskin off my glans. The warmth became wet as her mouth descended further, and I stilled my body waiting to see how far she would go. I wanted to bury myself in her throat again, but wasn't sure if that was her plan.

Her mouth descended about an inch past the head, then that delightfully wicked tongue came alive, circling the corona, flicking at my frenulum, and generally seeming to be everywhere at once. I could resist no longer, and groaned deep in my throat as my hips rose in an attempt to socket my penis in her throat, where it longed to be.

She moved with me, keeping only that maddeningly small portion in her mouth, her tongue still moving with frenetic speed. After a moment, even that stopped, and she slowly slid her lips back off the head, pausing to give it a little nibble with her teeth. I finally opened my eyes, and looked into hers, her head surrounded by that halo of unruly curls, and I knew that I loved her. I wanted to see this sight every day.

"We haven't got time for much this morning, but I want us to both be good and horny. I think it will help where we're going."

"Oh, where are we going?"

"Answers later, right now I want you to put that tongue to better use." As she was speaking, she was crawling up over me until her legs straddled my head. As I saw her panties come into view, I was stunned to realize that she was wearing a skirt again. The panties did not appear to be very substantial, as she reached under her skirt to pull them to one side, baring her sex, and lowering herself to my mouth.

Her cinnamon-like tang filled my mouth as her lips met mine, and I pierced them with my tongue. I stretched my tongue into her vaginal opening, and moved it firmly, zigzagging all the way, from her opening to her clitoris. I rubbed it firmly over her clit to awaken it, then began to circle it with the tip of my tongue. I could feel her moan through her entire body, vibrating onto my tongue. She pressed harder into my mouth in her arousal, so I pursed my lips to surround her clit, and started to suck on it. I felt her hips jerk once in response, and then suddenly she was gone. I opened my eyes to see her pulling away, and replacing the gusset of her panties.

"You didn't let me finish." My tone was petulant, but the truth was that I enjoyed making her come in this fashion. It gave me a feeling of total control over her orgasm, and the knowledge that she was surrendering herself to me made me both aroused, and prideful. Besides which, she tasted good.

"We'll finish later. For the moment, you hit the shower and get dressed, and I'll go make us some breakfast. And no masturbating in the shower. We both have to be on edge a little." She marched out of my room, and I watched her go, enjoying the rear view. Reluctantly, I headed for the bathroom; what I really wanted was to wrap myself around her in my bed, but I guessed that wasn't to be this morning.

When I got downstairs, she was spreading peanut butter on some toast, and handed me a glass of juice. The toast followed, along with a cup of coffee. I took a second to look at her, and raised an eyebrow. She was wearing a short skirt that flared from her hips to mid-thigh; this explained why she was able to straddle my head so easily, as the skirt permitted a lot of movement. In place of her usual t-shirt, she wore a close-fitting blouse that was nipped in below her breasts and fit tightly as it continued to her waist. As I watched her movements, I knew that there was something different about her.

Both of my eyebrows rose as I realized what it was; she was not wearing a bra. The shape of the blouse helped to constrain the movement of her breasts, but only a full bra could keep them totally in check. The subtle shifting as she worked was both attractive and distractive; my eyes kept wandering to them, and away from her face. I knew it would be an effort to look her in the eyes whenever we talked, but then that may have been her objective.

As she straightened up, I realized something else—her blouse wasn't buttoned very much. In fact, it looked like she hadn't buttoned it up beyond the bottom of her breasts. The inner curves of both of her breasts were visible, and acted like magnets to my eyes. I could well imagine the attraction they would hold for other men, and I wasn't sure I wanted them on display like that; a sharp green pang of jealousy was raising its head at the back of my psyche.

She looked me in the eye, put her hands on her hips, and smiled softly. "I see you staring. Do you like them? ... Well I guess that's a stupid question, 'cause I know you like them. Do you like seeing them like this?"

'How to answer?' I paused for a beat, thinking. "Well, yes, of course I like them. They are the best I have ever seen. My jealous little soul is wondering whether you want everyone else to see them, because they are kind of on display."

"I know. In a way it scares me a little, but I do need to move out of my shell, and this is one way. You know that they are for you to caress, and fondle, and play with, so others can look, but that's about it. I have an ulterior motive in mind, given what we're going to do today. Dressing like this allows them to be a distraction."

"We need a distraction? What are we doing today?"

"We're going shopping."

"I don't understand. Why do we need a distraction to go shopping?"

"Because we're not allowed into the store we're going to." I looked at her quizzically at this comment. "We're not old enough."

"What store has an age limit? A liquor store? We don't drink."

"No, not a liquor store. A toy store."

"A toy store? Since when does a toy store have an age limit? Besides a toy store would probably have an upper limit on age, and we'd be too old, not too young."

"Not that kind of toy store. An adult toy store. You have to be eighteen to go in them."

I stopped dead when she said this. The back and forth banter about age limits and toy stores was lighthearted and amusing, and typical of many of our conversations, but this last statement had been almost as shocking as her one word statement in my garage a few days ago.

"Adult toys, you mean..."

"I mean vibrators, and sex toys, and maybe even some bondage gear."

"Bondage gear?"

"Yes. My little submissive streak has been making me wonder what it would be like to be tied up or restrained somehow, and then maybe forced to orgasm when I couldn't move. It keeps coming back to me, and I've been finding myself reading more about it on-line. I don't know if it's something that I'll get over once I've tried it, or if it will become a regular part of sex between us. I already know that I really like it on those occasions when you take control. The couple of times you've fucked my face have really turned me on, and I keep thinking about what it would be like to be bound, maybe blindfolded, maybe even gagged, and then forced to take your cock down my throat with no way to stop you."

"Okay, I can see why you want to investigate these feelings. This is supposed to be a research project, and we didn't set any boundaries on where the research might take us. Since it's an exploration, we are bound to uncover things about ourselves that we never knew. You've discovered that you have what appears to be a sexual submissive streak, at least where I am concerned; I would have never labeled you as submissive in any form, and I've survived knowing you as living proof of that."

She stuck her tongue out at me as I made the last remark, and grinned impishly. I continued. "I have discovered that I love your mop of hair, your face, your curvy body, and the taste of your fluids as I bring you to orgasm with my tongue. You already know that I love the look of you in a post-orgasmic state." Her face softened as I finished, and I could see the love in her eyes, and knew it was for me alone.

"Well, enough with the drolleries, we have to get downtown, and we're wasting time. We may need several hours in the store. Go brush your teeth, grab your wallet, and whatever else you need."

"There's still the question of how we're going to get in the store since we're underage."

"Well, I figure these... ," she lifted her breasts a little, "will help, since I don't think I look sixteen with them, especially if they're on display. But, just in case, do you still have the fake IDs you made for us last year?"

"Yes. They're stashed in my bedroom." I had played with some photo editing software, a graphics program, a scanner, and my printer to produce a couple of very good quality ID cards for our school. They looked legitimate in all regards, down to the plastic lamination. The only issue was that they made us two years older than we were. They had been used on a few occasions to gain us admission to movies that carried age restrictions.

"Go and get them, and let's be off." I retrieved the IDs, and she slipped hers into a pocket of her skirt. We left the house, and headed for the bus stop, a block away.

As we walked and rode to the store, she described the location we were heading toward. "The store we're going to isn't downtown, so we're not heading into a seedy part of town. It's actually a couple of miles over, on the edge of one of the shopping districts. It's in a strip mall, and is kind of a 'new age' place. It openly advertises what it is, and has fairly bright décor on the outside. It's called 'We're Really Naughty', and it has its own web site. It caters to couples who want to play, but according to the web site, it also carries serious bondage equipment, as well as a wide range of toys. I think we'll be able to find whatever we want there."

As we arrived in front of the store, I noticed the sign on the door that proclaimed, 'Merchandise for Adults Only—Must be 18 Years Old to Enter.' I glanced at her, and she said, "If we just march in like we belong here, I doubt anyone will say anything."

I held the door for her, and we entered. No sirens sounded, and no one yelled at us, so we proceeded into the depths of the store. I noticed the cashier's counter to our right, but it was unmanned at the moment. She held my hand tightly as we came up on a display of dildos and vibrators. We tried to look at them in a disinterested manner, but I could hear her breathing getting a little raspy as her arousal level kicked up a notch.

I noticed that different sections were marked by overhead signs, and I pointed out the one that said 'Restraints.' She immediately started pulling me in that direction.

We entered an aisle with a strong smell of leather, containing what looked to be collars of different lengths, and various kinds of harnesses. It reminded me of a tack shop I had once been in with a friend who was an equestrian. For that matter, I noticed what looked alarmingly like bits and bridles on a shelf.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" I turned in the direction of the voice, and was very surprised to see a young girl who looked not much older than us, but whom I suspected was at least more than twenty years old. She was very pretty, and was dressed to show it off, as she wore a short leather vest that didn't appear to be fastened, a very short leather skirt that was slit to her hips, and high-heeled shoes. Her name tag said 'Clara.'

I looked into the eyes of my love, and she was staring at the collars, so I decided to fill the silence. "We're in need of some cuffs, and potentially a collar, but we're a little new at this, so we could use some advice. You certainly seem to have quite a selection, which makes it a little difficult to decide which type would be best."

"I'm not sure whether you should really be in here, so legally, I have to ask to see some ID." We proffered our re-manufactured identification, and Clara studied them closely. "Well, I'm not sure these are real, but they're good quality if they're fakes, so they could easily fool a poor shop clerk like me." She handed us back the IDs, and continued.

"You said cuffs, right?" She thought for a moment, looking at us, then moved to a shelf that held cloth items, rather than leather. She picked up a couple. "These are great for people who are just starting out. They're very professionally made, and many of our experienced dominants prefer them over leather. They're made from several layers of very high-quality nylon, so they're completely washable. They are lined with soft cotton, and they're fairly wide, so they don't cause any chafing or rubbing. It's pretty much impossible to get marked by these, whereas a lot of the leather cuffs are stiff, and will chafe, and metal things like handcuffs are just downright cruel, because they'll take skin off and can leave permanent scars.

"There is nothing poor about the quality of the construction, which is why many experienced people like these. There is a spring steel band running through the cuff, anchoring the clip here, and the rings that you see. The closure is Velcro, so you just have to wrap the cuff around your submissive's arms, and he or she is instantly secured. It is pretty much impossible to make the cuff too tight, yet it's more than tough enough to allow you to hang someone by their arms forever. We also have slightly wider versions to use as ankle cuffs.

"Could I try them on?" came a rather meek question from beside me.

"I thought they'd be for you. You had the look. Hold out your hands." A moment later, her wrists were wrapped in nylon bands, and Clara continued, "To secure them together, you can use the clip that is attached, or for more range of motion, you can use a carabineer clip, or a short length of chain. And of course, you can use rope to suspend them."

"Turn around, and put your hands behind your back." Surprisingly, she immediately responded to Clara's orders. I heard a click, and a breathy little moan from beside me, as her hands were secured.

Clara told her to turn back, and looked at the expression on her face. "You like those, I can tell. I'll bet you're fun." Clara reached out with an index finger, and lifted her chin up, then moved the finger down toward her open neckline, tracing a line down the valley between her breasts until she reached the first closed button. I noticed that her nipples sprang to life, making visible points on the front of her blouse.

Clara looked around, and said, "Now then, a collar. What's best for new people is a fairly high collar, as it isn't as much of a choking hazard. You sometimes hear them referred to as a 'posture collar' because it forces the wearer to hold their head and neck very upright, so it gives them very straight posture. It's often used that way to train a new submissive or slave." She selected one, and advanced on my little submissive, who had a rather wide-eyed expression on her face.

She seemed to be a little overwhelmed by what was happening, and by the way that Clara was taking charge. I think she had finally met a true dominant, and her submissive streak was coming to the fore in a big way. I knew that I would have to ensure that her limits were respected while Clara took her to new places.

Clara wrapped the collar around her neck, moving her hair out of the way, and adjusted the placement to ensure that her chin was correctly located. This one also closed with Velcro, and had several rings in it. As Clara reached behind to fasten the collar, my love's face ended up in Clara's cleavage, as the vest separated, and proved that Clara was indeed naked under it. As Clara pulled back, she smirked and said, "Did you like that? I think you did."

She stepped back to survey things, and said, "You can also secure her hands to the collar itself, which can make for some interesting positions." She demonstrated by unclipping my love's hands, then placing them behind her neck, and clipping them to a ring on the back of the collar. "As you can see, this does interesting things for parts of the anatomy."

I could easily see that my love's breasts were now much more on display, as the position forced her to thrust her back out more, enhancing her charms.

Clara looked her over for a few seconds, and then said, "We should get her some jewelry, I think. First, though we need a leash." Taking a leather leash off a rack, she clipped it to the ring on the front of the collar, and used it to lead us to a different aisle. The display cases were filled with clips, clamps, and devices that looked like they could only be worn by piercing some part of the body. As we stood there, I heard a little whimper of arousal from my love, and I looked into her eyes, questioningly. She nodded her head as best she could in the collar, letting me know that she was still all right.

Clara said, "We need to see what we've got to work with." She calmly reached out and began to undo the rest of the buttons on my love's blouse. With the buttons free, she grasped the sides, and moved them back toward her shoulders, completely exposing those wonderful breasts.

As Clara reached for them, she said, "Oh, those are gorgeous. You must be proud of them." She hefted each one in her hands, as if weighing them, and gave them a firm squeeze. I could hear the moan that resulted, as did Clara. "We could have some fun with these, don't you think?"

Still holding the objects in question, Clara turned in my direction. "Could I maybe interest you in a tit whip? It doesn't leave marks, but it really sensitizes the skin, and sets up a nice burning feeling without stinging a lot. I get really turned on when it's used on me. It can also be used on her pussy, as long as it's shaved."

Clara turned back to the breasts she was massaging, and moved her fingers to the nipples, squeezing and rolling them firmly. She looked in my love's eyes, watching for a reaction, and saw only arousal, climbing steadily. "Are you shaved, honey? Can you imagine me whipping these little babies, then your bare mound until they burn and you start coming just from the whip? Do you get really loud when you come? Do you scream when you come?"

A breathy, raspy "Y-y-yes-s-s" was her answer as my love started to sink deep into her arousal. I was beginning to wonder if she was about to come right here at the hands of this total stranger. Clara continued to manipulate the nipples, then released them, and moved to a display case of clamps.

"Some of these are mainly for decoration. They can hardly be felt when you're wearing them, so if you're looking for an effect, then you should ignore them. The next level up don't hurt, they just sensitize the nipples. They serve to constantly remind the wearer of her nipples, without any pain involved. They're designed to be worn all day, and are often quite decorative. I wear a pair of that type whenever I work here." With that, she pulled the sides of her vest apart, displaying two very full, firm breasts. Her nipples were adorned with clips that looked like oversized tweezers, snugly attached, but not looking like they were squeezing or otherwise hurting the nipples.

Still holding the vest open, she said, "I think what we want for your little subbie there would be a step or two up from these. You want something that she will know is there even at their lowest setting, but something that you can control, and even ramp up to a point beyond what she can take."

She took a pair off a shelf, holding them out to me. They had a combination of spring clips and an adjustment screw, but not sharp teeth, and their jaws were coated. There was a decorative chain joining them. "These will definitely work for you, I think. If you want to go up a step further, then we have these others, which are similar in construction, but as you can see, they have teeth. You could always get both, and use one set for pleasure, and one for punishment, but that's up to you."

Walking up to 'the little subbie', she reached out to one nipple, and looking into her eyes, asked, "Shall we try them on?" Getting a frightened little nod in response, she leaned close to her and said, "Don't worry. I think you're going to like this, especially when I make you come."

Clara worked the nipple a little, ensuring that it stood up firmly, then closed the clamp around it. She heard the moan, and saw the hip movement signaling another step up in her arousal, then moved to the other nipple. Another rub and tweak, and the second nipple wore its decoration. Her back arching a bit more, the little subbie moaned again at the sensation.

Clara reached out again, and said, "These clamps can be fully adjusted quite easily, just by turning the screws on the sides. So, if we go up by one turn, we'll get a reaction like this..." A sharp inhalation, and a loud moan, eyes closing for a moment, then re-opening, seeking mine, and reassuring me that she was still all right.

Clara watched her face closely, then said, "And another turn looks like this... ," A short yelp of pain, followed by a long moan, and ragged breathing for a minute or more.

"No more, please," came the quiet plea.

As Clara started to move toward her, I put a hand on her arm, and said, "No, that's enough with the clamps. She can wear them like that, but don't tighten them anymore."

"Okay, no more tension, but don't forget that you can use the chain to remind her about them, or to lead her around." With that, she gave the chain a quick tug, which resulted in another sharp yelp from my love, but no plea for the removal of the clamps, so I left them in place.

"Now, what else would you like?"