The second letter was screaming to be opened. I could hear it, I could see it jump around on the table like a spoilt child. Open me. Open me. Read me. Do me!

Trust had taken over my very soul and I knew that I could not leave without finding out what was in the letter. But the finding out was the key to doing. One of the rules was, that if I opened it, I had to go through with it.

In one sense it was a hard decision, as I didn’t know what would be inside, but I knew that the excitement would take over me completely, once I found out. Letter one caused me a serious challenge.

We had talked about spanking and I always, jokingly replied, that I would allow it but only if I could do the same to him. That letter led me straight into his lair. You could say that it set the scene for the other four that lay before me, but did it.

I wondered whether my dream would come true in letter number two.

I fumbled with it before ripping it open. I read the contents and then read it again. The instructions were simple; far too simple. I took the bell with me as instructed and sat on the chair in front of the window.

The hot sun was now tearing through the gap in the curtains and it felt hot on my skin. I tensed as I sat down; my bottom fiercely letting me know that it was tender and in need of some loving care.

I sat in the chair as instructed and pulled the blindfold down over my eyes; ensuring it was as tight as possible. I opened my thighs and waited. I then rang the bell and placed it beside me on the floor.

It was moments later that I heard footsteps; almost silent ones crossing the room before me. I felt a hand on my cheek and my initial reaction was to reach out and touch it. I pulled my hand back before I did so. I felt a fingertip scrape past my lips and I let my tongue reach out to swipe it. It was pulled away a little too quickly.

Fingers stroked at my sides causing me to twist and turn with the tickling sensations that flowed through me. Slowly but surely they found their way to my breasts; stroking at the roundness of my flesh and picking at the stiffness of my nipples.

Every movement, every touch seemed to elicit a sigh from my mouth. He was so soft in his touches it surprised me no end. I remember the words he used to entice me in the chat rooms, ‘I will touch you so gently you will end up screaming.’ He was right. I was on the verge of screaming.

A wet heat descended on my nipple and I immediately recognised it as lips. His lips sucked at the end before the mouth was pushed down over the flesh of my breast. Once inside, I felt the tip of a tongue rapidly flick across it. Fuck, he was good. The process was repeated with the other nipple and I knew that they stood out firm and erect.

It wasn’t long before a finger stroked its way up my thigh. It started from my lower calf and slowly eased its way upwards. I could feel it scrape and wasn’t sure whether it was a finger or some kind of tool. When it caressed across my thigh I swear I could have come. The touch was so soft and my tender flesh was eager to experience more of the same punishment.

It wasn’t long before my wish came true. Two hands started to eagerly stroke my inner thigh. I started sighing and moaning. I unconsciously opened my thighs wider to give him more access. His touch was almost painful. My pussy leaked. I could feel my fluids drip from the end of my pussy onto the bare floor as my bum perched several inches over the end of the chair.

The stroking stopped and I felt a finger slide along the length of my sex. In my heightened state of blindness, I heard a sucking sound and an almost audible gasp was emitted by him. At last a response; he liked the taste of me. I knew he would.

A finger was placed back on my pussy and this time it slipped inside. It felt so fucking good to be played with in this way. To be displayed on this chair, open to his gaze, played with like a toy. It was sublime.

I pulled my hands over my head and rested them on the back of my neck. I could still feel the breeze and the heat of the sun on my back merged with the heat of my pussy as his finger slipped inside.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell him to push more of his fingers into me and fuck me with them. I wanted him. All of him.

I started gyrating my hips around the motion of his fingers. I pushed forwards slightly but this only caused my bum to perch further out on the chair. I felt a thumb stroke my pussy and then I shuddered as his thumb rubbed over my clit.

I made so much noise that I never heard him move, but the next feeling was one that nearly made me climax. It was sheer delight that put me in a state of heightened abandonment when his tongue entered me. It went straight up my cunt; his mouth clamped on my lips and he sucked and fucked his tongue into me.

I started panting; wanting more than just his tongue. I wanted to put my hands down around his head and pull him into my wet and waiting cunt. But the rules forbade it. I was only to reach out and touch after I had experienced an orgasm and not before.

He was everywhere at once.

I felt his tongue slide into me. I felt his fingers pinch my nipples until they burned. I felt his hands caress my thighs. I felt his tongue lick my lips from the bottom to the top.

I started panting hard when his tongue reached my clit to flick at it. That was what I needed, that was going to make me come.

I was forced to delay my orgasm when my eyes shot open to the touch of his finger at my rear entrance. It started to slip inside and it caused my mouth to open wide; partly in disbelief and partly because we had never actually talked about that aspect of sex.

It was perhaps the only bit we had never discussed. Yet, here it was, pressing eagerly on my anus and making rapid progress. So rapid that it must have been well lubricated.

I came to the conclusion that my pussy juices probably supplied all the armament needed to help it slide inside such a tight little hole. I found myself lifting my bum off the chair and positioning myself a little further forward. I found myself helping him.

Once his finger was inside, his tongue latched back onto my clit.

I nearly hit the roof; it was so intense. The triple feelings of tightness, penetration (albeit in the wrong hole) and clitoral stimulation brought me to the edge of my orgasm. Yet the pressure and the penetration was not enough; he merely maintained it for ages – edging me forwards.

This was worse than the caning. I wanted release and yet I was being deprived of it. I had almost reached the stage of throwing away my blindfold, taking hold of his cock, pushing him onto the floor and forcibly fucking myself with it.

Before I did, his finger slipped out and then back in. ‘Oh-My-God.’ I had never thought penetration, in that hole, could feel so fucking wonderful. Yet, it did.

Every fucking inch felt wonderful. His lips and tongue teased my sex. His free hand teased my nipples and the skin around my waist and breasts. Occasionally, he cupped my breasts and squeezed their full weight in his hands.

I wanted my orgasm to explode but I had to be patient. Realisation set in – it took a while, but I had to leave him to come to the conclusion of giving it to me because he wanted to not because I wanted it.

My mind was screaming out for it. I started to breathe once more. Deep breaths followed by slow exhalation. I rode the sensations and pleasure that was pouring into my body.

His finger sped up and was thrusting into my anus at a constant rate. It was exciting me and my mind was instructing me to clench my buttocks when his finger was all the way in. It was all the more pleasurable to feel it get squashed in my anus. The action was also intensifying my own orgasm. I didn’t need his lips or tongue this would get me off without being licked and this was all in my control.

He knew that of course. He was a clever man. He knew exactly what I was doing.

That’s why he stopped.

He left his finger to tickle my rosebud before his mouth descended on my pussy and clit. I now had to change tack. I had to put my mind into playing a different game and I had to concentrate on an oral orgasm rather than a penetrative one; in that instant, he was labelled a bastard, but a good bastard.

His tongue snaked over my lips and clit; it had to, the juices pouring out of my pussy were exceptional. I can honestly say that I had never been so turned on in my whole life as I was at that moment. My whole body was alive and building up to that all-important orgasm.

His finger snaked inside once more, changing the dynamics. I concentrated on my oral orgasm and let the sensations from his finger wash over me, but I couldn’t ignore either of the feelings. They both got to me, first one and then the other; then both of them together.

His mouth clamped down over my clit and he sucked on it.

Fuck! Did he suck on it.

I started panting, fiercely. I wanted to reach out with my hands and clamp his head to my sex.

Scream! I could at least scream, there was nothing in the rules to say I couldn’t talk or scream. So I screamed.

“I’m fucking coming,” I screamed.

It must have been the right time for him. He sucked harder, his finger pushed into me faster and I came hard as my orgasm flooded my body. My mind raced with the euphoria, my body shook, my legs vibrated and my pussy…

…the juices just exploded on his wonderful face. A face that I was about to see and get my hands on.

I let myself come down from the intensity and started panting with a little more control. I felt him lift his body upwards but before I let him shake the bell I reached out and touched his waist.

It felt all wrong. Curved. Too curved. My hands reached upwards and I felt, for the first time in my life, soft curvaceous breasts; full pendulous breasts that felt heavy in my hand.

The kiss shocked me. I recoiled a little; I was taken aback by the softness and then I tasted myself on her lips. Her tongue penetrated my mouth and our tongues crossed inside. My own scent invaded my nostrils and I tasted my own come.

I reached out to touch her face, her head, her hair. Her hair was silky and long. I stroked it through my hands several times.

I was astounded by the revelation that my lover was not a him.

Before I knew it, my hands were once more cupping her breasts and moulding themselves around them. I stroked them and pinched her nipples.

In my eagerness for this new source of pleasure, I thrust my hand out level with her groin. My finger snaked across her pussy lips, wetting themselves very briefly before she pulled away. I quickly slipped my finger into my mouth but the scent and fragrance of her was lost on my own juices.

A bell rang out. Footsteps receded and I was left wondering.

Wondering about my own sexuality.

I had enjoyed it too much to fake any kind of remorseful response. I must be like – her. Her kiss was so elegant, so soft, and her breasts – my mind was suddenly lost to the heavenliness of her skin. I simply couldn’t get over how another woman’s breasts felt. Not like my own at all. No, they were much better.

I found myself, once more, incomplete. I found myself wanting to taste her and return the enthusiasm she had had for me. I wanted to push my tongue into her and taste her but she was gone.

While desperately trying to suck her essence from the tip of my finger, I slowly snapped out of my dreamlike state – call it what you like – letter number three was waiting for me.

This is part of a four-part story that really needs to be read from the start in order to understand the plot. I hope you bear with me and enjoy what’s to come.