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Curiosity

"Curiosity didn't kill the cat - it made her wet."

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She had been working for the Smiths for more than two years. They were a nice enough couple who always paid her on time and didn't give her too much extra work. There was laundry and dusting and polishing, sweeping and mopping, vacuuming. Occasionally they would have company over the night before and on those days there was always some extra work to do. Still, she had heard so many complaints from the other girls she worked with about the horrible, nasty homes they had to look after and she thanked her lucky stars every day that she didn't have to deal with anything like that.

They were an older, middle-aged couple, who still made a handsome picture when they dressed up to go to a fund raising event or concert. The husband was especially debonair, having aged more gracefully as men are wont to do. Still, he never tried to paw at her, or made lewd remarks when she was bent over cleaning the oven, or on her hands and knees scrubbing the floors.

He would have been shocked if he knew how often she fantasized about that very thing. She would imagine him approaching her from behind, laying his palm against the curve of her bottom, and squeezing roughly before moving away as though nothing had happened. Of course, such thoughts were ridiculous, as anyone could see Mr. Smith was crazy about his wife, spoiling her with gifts of expensive jewelry and designer shoes and purses. She imagined they were like most couples who had been together more than thirty years and had sex on special occasions and were content with that.

Once a month she would go into Mr. Smith's workshop to tidy up and sweep and mop the floor. He always had his tools neatly arranged or hanging in their proper place and she admired his dedication to keeping his work space in such pristine condition. There was a tall cabinet against the far corner that was always kept locked. She found this a little odd, as the Smiths did not have children, and thus there would be no need to keep dangerous tools locked up. She thought maybe Mr. Smith used it to hide presents for his lovely wife.

On this particular day, she entered the room and started sweeping the floor like usual. As she neared the cabinet, she noticed one of the doors was slightly ajar. She bit her bottom lip as she contemplated whether or not she should let her curiosity get the best of her. Mr. Smith wasn't due home for another forty-five minutes at least, and that's what decided it for her. What harm was there in a quick peek?

Slowly she approached the cabinet and with some trepidation pulled open the double doors. A gasp escaped her mouth and her eyes widened as they registered what she was seeing. There were shoes; the kind of slutty ones her mother would never allow her to wear. The heels looked too impossibly tall to even be able to walk in them. There was a whole shelf of coiled rope in many rainbow hues, and another filled with duct tape in a variety of patterns and colours.

What had made her gasp, however, was not the shoes, nor the ropes, nor the tape. It was the sex toys. A bright crimson flush spread over her cheeks as she took in the various boxes, each adorned with graphic pictures and words. Some she readily recognized - she was a grown woman after all - but many more she did not.

She ran her fingers over the embossed designs of the boxes one at a time, studying each one intently. Then found her gaze drawn to a shelf that was full of leather implements. She hooked her finger around what looked like a miniature belt and let it dangle, noting the large metal ring at the front. There were more bits of leather and metal, examining them determined they were restraints. Just the thought of being cuffed to a bed, helpless, made her panties wet.

She imagined being strapped to Mr. Smith's bed as he tortured her with the objects within the boxes. Her breathing quickened as she imagined his hands sliding over her ample breasts, toying with her nipples, pulling on them with his fingers. Then his head would bend down her to lick the aerolas with slow, circular laps of his tongue, before sucking one into his mouth and biting down gently on her nipple.

She gave a soft groan as she allowed the fantasy to play on in her mind, her own fingers moving to the buttons of her uniform. Trembling, she undid the first four buttons and slid her hands beneath the material, popping her breasts free from the restraining confines of her bra to thumb her nipples lightly.

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Her head fell back on her shoulders as a soft breath exhaled from her mouth at the sinful pleasure her touch ignited.

Her gaze drawn to the cabinet once more, she found a pair of tiny clamps attached to a thin silver chain. Curious, she opened the teeth as wide as they would go and allowed them to settle onto the tip of one of her fingers. It bit softly into her flesh, causing a small discomfort. She unclasped it from her finger and positioned it before her breast, gnawing on her lip wonderingly before allowing it to close over her nipple.

This time, her breath came out in a pant as pain blossomed. Her panties were thoroughly soaked by this point, and she paused for a moment, relishing the pain before affixing the second clamp to her remaining nipple. A moan escaped her lips as the clamp bit into her tender flesh, her hands cupping her breasts from beneath, thumbing over her overly sensitive nipples. The sensation of the mingled pain and pleasure was almost too much to bear.

She imagined Mr. Smith's hands trailing over her stomach and hip bones, then tracing over her thighs before inching slowly upward towards her wet slit. Her hands followed where her mind was taking her, and soon her fingertip grazed the slick entrance to her cunt. Spreading her lips with one hand, she began rubbing her clit in slow, circular motions with the other, her fingertips teasing over her sensitized flesh.

Her hips began undulating slowly as she ground her pussy against her fingers, continuing to play with her clit with one hand while the other moved down to her slit, sliding between the wet folds of her vagina. She worked her clit furiously as she slowly worked her fingers in and out of her body. She couldn't stifle her moans as she toyed with herself and soon her entire body quaked with the force of her orgasm. "Oh, Mr. Smith..." fell out of her lips in husky supplication as she withdrew her fingers from her dripping cunt, drawing them to her lips and slowly licking all traces of her juices away.

A slow smile curved her mouth as she took a moment to regain her senses, practically purring with pleasure.

The sound of a car door slamming shut broke her from her reverie and she cursed loudly, frantically unclasping the clamps from her now extremely sensitive nipples. She couldn't stop a groan of pain as the blood flow returned in a painful rush. Drawing the fabric of her bra back up was a new torture in and of itself. She dropped the clamps back onto the shelf she had taken them from and slammed the cabinet doors shut.

With shaking fingers, she managed to get the buttons of her uniform through their proper holes and she smoothed a hand over her hair as though expecting it to be disheveled from her wanton behaviour. She snatched up the broom and dust pan and briskly walked to the door, turning off the lights and hurrying back into the main house just as the front door closed firmly behind her employer.

She tried to contain her blush as she stammered a greeting, "Mr. Smith! You startled me. I must have lost track of time. I'll have to finish up in the workshop tomorrow, I didn't get to the mopping, I'm afraid." She was babbling and knew it, but was unable to cease her nervous chatter.

Mr. Smith smiled reassuringly at her. "That's okay. I'm sure you had a lot of other things to get done. It can wait another day." She nodded mutely as she put away the broom and dust pan, unable to look him in the eyes. Surely he must know what she had just been up to! *Don't be silly*, she silently chided herself, *how could he possibly know such things?*

"Well then, if there is nothing else you needed, Mr. Smith, I'll just grab my things and be on my way." She continued to keep her eyes downcast, not daring to meet his direct stare.

"Of course," he responded. "Drive safely. We'll see you tomorrow."

She scurried from the room, gathered her things, and fled the scene, breathing a sigh of relief as the heavy door closed behind her. That had been close - too close. Thank goodness she had heard Mr. Smith's car door, or who knows what might have happened!

Confident in the knowledge there was no way Mr. Smith could have known what just happened in his workshop, she got in her car and set off for home, blissfully unaware of the high tech security system the Smith's had installed just a few weeks prior.
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Written by calikins
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