"Well," she finally said. "I might as well tell you. I don't want to lose my job or for my husband to lose his job, either. I'm uh… I'm just not quite sure where I should start on this."
"I have all the time in the world, my dear. And let me compliment you on that lovely dress you're wearing. It is divine."
"Oh, thank you," said Linda, feeling a more relaxed now. "But, uh, tell me, uh, isn't your husband going to be home soon?"
"No. I know for a fact he won't be home for several hours at least."
"Really?"
"Yes. Now tell me. You'll feel much better if you do. Tell me," she said softly, almost pleadingly. It was a request Linda could not refuse, but no longer because she was worried about losing her job it was just a question of wanting to please this strange woman who could command her attention with merely the flick of an eyelash or the slightest turn of the mouth.
Now the story came pouring out. "It was awful. He called me into his office for second period and we chit-chatted for a minute or two. Then he wanted to know if I wore a bikini or went to a nude beach," she said, the words tumbling out in a great rush.
Rosemary nodded gravely, but approvingly. She did not seem shocked, but still generated a tiny fish line of sympathy to Linda, who kept on talking. "I acted as if I weren't too offended, but I wasn't exactly pleased about getting asked that sort of question. My husband and I love each other very much, but how we express that love is our own business and no one else's I think."
Linda could feel the tears once again well up in her eyes, but she kept talking. "And then he said I could go and came over to show me the door, which was fine with me. And then, just like that he'd handcuffed my wrist to his wrist. Can you believe that?"
Rosemary nodded. Linda wiped away a tear and continued. "Next thing I know, he's pushing me to the ground and getting me tied up to these little hooks in the wall, that is, from my wrists and he's sitting on my upper legs so I can't move. Oh, he's also gagged me and then slugged me in the face. Will you please say something?" she asked now.
"It's best that you just keep on talking and that I don't do anything to interrupt you at all," said Rosemary in an almost inaudible voice.
"OK," said Linda, pausing for a deep breath. "Then he took off all my clothes from the waist down and tied my ankles with the same sort of cord to some more hooks in the walls. Now I'm spread-eagled."
Rosemary seemed to be in a trance, with her head tilted back. "What next?" she asked in a whispery voice.
"Then he, uh, he got out a peacock feather and began stroking me… all over with it, including in my crotch. And I have to admit that I really liked the feeling of it. Oh, Rosemary, I'm so ashamed," sobbed Linda, bursting into tears. "I love my husband and this is just so awful that I can hardly stand it!"
"What was it like when he touched you with that feather?" Rosemary asked quietly. "I agree that my husband's a monster who should be put away, but I think I can work something out to fix his wagon, but good. You've just got to help me and trust me. OK?"
"OK. Well, the feeling was like… I don't know exactly… but like waiting for a big wave out at the beach to hit you. Yeah. That was it."
"You said it felt good."
"It did. I felt like some kind of wild animal inside me had been let loose."
"All right. I want you to close your eyes and concentrate on what you felt. Remember how you wanted it to go on and on. You can feel it. Breathe deeply. Relax. Just enjoy the moment now."
And Linda tried to reach back to that strange moment and for an instant she thought she was there. She even heard a "click" that was somehow familiar, somehow something she recognized deep in the pit of her stomach.
She opened her eyes and realized with a sickened feeling what had happened. She'd been handcuffed once more, this time by Rosemary O'Neill.
At first she thought it was a joke, but the sadistic gleam in Rosemary's eyes told her there was no reason to believe that Rosemary was any less of a pervert than her husband. Rosemary was now dragging her up the stairs by tugging at the handcuffs, which she'd managed to snap onto both of Linda's wrists. "You're going to be my little sex slave," were the first words out of Rosemary's mouth.
It was no joke. Linda screamed, "Let me go, you pervert!" and Rosemary slapped her hard across the face and kept dragging her, with a hammerlock across Linda's readily accessible breasts. The fullness of her creamy orbs popped free from the dress, her nipples at attention from being excited by the clingy silk fabric.
In just an instant, Rosemary had thrown her onto a huge four-poster bed and immediately sat on top of her waist. Rosemary's hands, itchily, grasping the pliant softness of the alabaster melons – for Linda did not have the daring to sunbathe topless – and kneaded their satiny warmth as if they were the greatest treasure on the planet. It was a startling contrast: Rosemary's gentleness against the pitiful struggling of Linda's compact frame under her. Rosemary had the smooth, but solid muscles of an Olympic swimmer and the soft, seductive manner of a big cat.
"Come on, baby," she purred. "I'll make you feel so good that you'll scream. Oh, ooo, I love your tits. And you're tan is so beautiful, baby. Jack said you were great and he was right."
Linda had been sort of drifting off, resigning herself to being abused by this creature with superhuman strength – at least compared to hers – but the mention of Jack O'Neill slapped her back into reality.
"Get your scummy hands off me, you slut!" she yelled. "I hate your guts."
Whap! Rosemary slapped her even harder this time, and Linda saw stars. "Listen, my little slave," she muttered, drawing out the word "slave" lasciviously. "You'll do exactly as I say or I'll beat you silly."
Linda said nothing. Whap! Rosemary slapped her even harder and growled, "Do you understand, slave? You are all mine and that's that."
Linda was seeing double. She meekly nodded her head and Rosemary tore off the blue silk dress Linda was wearing in a few easy motions. Sweat glistened from every inch of Linda's tanned and taut frame and she offered no resistance. She closed her eyes tightly.
Rosemary now began running her hands all over the firm yet baby soft flesh, hardly able to control herself at the delicious prospect of another trophy for her and her husband. This girl would learn to give her and Jack such unbelievable pleasure, she thought, her mind racing like a Grand Prix racer at 200 miles per hour.
But she noticed immediately that Linda remained motionless, dead almost. She must be thinking about that pretty-boy husband of hers, Rosemary thought. All right, we'll make it easy for her to forget. And with that, she got out her velvet cords, much like the ones Jack had used in his office earlier that day, from the night stand table drawer. In a few more seconds, she had Linda's ankles and wrists bound to the four posts of the bed, much like her husband had earlier in the day. Linda seemed in a trance.
Bursting with sexual heat, Rosemary could hardly contain herself at the sight of Linda's perfectly tanned body, stretched taut. She'd make this prissy bitch beg for it before she was through, she told herself. God, what a body! She started in by lightly licking Linda's puckered nipples, then blowing air over them.
Linda couldn't believe what was happening. Almost involuntarily, her hips began writhing in wanton arousal, despite the hatred she felt toward Rosemary. "Ohhh! God, help me… you bitch… please stop," she moaned. "Good Lord, that's, this is awful, please stop… ooo… oh, not my legs please, please stop."
Rosemary wasn't going to stop now as she began tonguing Linda's thighs. Her own loins began throbbing with the sheer thrill of the depravity she was forcing Linda to undergo. The wickedness of taking this gorgeous hunk of woman and making her submit to her wild whims made her own pussy cry out for release.