The Adventures of Heather
By
Robin Evanova

This is a story about a young woman plumbing the absolute depths of depravity in a quest to rid herself of the puritanical and perfectionist influence of her saintly parents so that she can be free to enjoy life and sex. She becomes involved in very hardcore BDSM, bestiality, lesbian sex, orgies, humiliation and other assorted depravities as she seeks to save herself and then Jeremy, the submissive man she loves. Jeremy has his own tale, only hinted at in this story but brought out more fully in his own story later.

Story codes for the entire series: MF, MFF, FF, F+M+, zoo, best, bd, sm, Fb
Story codes for this chapter: MF, MFF, FF bd sm

Heather felt her heart thumping in her throat as she slipped off her blouse.  She tried not to look at any of the other dozen or so people in the single changing room at Wilton Hot Springs.  She forced her slightly trembling fingers to unbutton and unzip her jeans.  After all, the place was clothing optional, and she was opting to visit their pools without clothing.  She forward her jaw in what she knew must look silly but which felt resolute.  Her parents might have been saints, but they’d had some very strange ideas.  “The naked body is the Devil’s tool!” she could just hear her mother saying.  It was time to purge herself of that influence.  She wasn’t a saint and never could be or even wanted to be, but she could at least try to be a normal human being.  A little shock therapy in the form of going naked was one reason she was visiting the hot springs and its clothing optional pools.  As she slipped out of her tight jeans, she caught the eye of a strikingly handsome older man who was with an attractive blonde of about his own age.  He smiled at her, and she felt his amusement.  Somehow he had read her mind and knew how ridiculously uncomfortable she was.  Well, to hell with being uncomfortable!  She thrust her breasts forward as she unsnapped her bra and shrugged it off her shoulders.
She could not help but smile at herself when she went outside to get into the warm pool and noticed she held her towel in front of her in what she hoped was a nonchalant attitude.  She didn’t want people looking disapprovingly at her and thinking she was a prude.  Not that anyone noticed, much.  Nearly everyone at the “clothing optional” spa had opted against them, and almost everyone seemed very casual about nudity in the pools.  It didn’t matter.  She felt the old feelings welling up and squashed them as best she could.  In an almost panic she located two showers that weren’t out in the open.  Gratefully she closed the saloon-type doors and turned on the shower.  The sharp needle jets felt good.  She also hoped this weekend would take away some of the hurt and tension of the past two weeks when she and Brad had fought bitterly, then ended their relationship. The bastard! He complained about her being frigid.  She knew that her response wasn’t what he wanted, but she was trying!  She did love him, and his naked body did excite her.  In fact, she felt some needs very powerfully, almost frighteningly so at times, but at some point the demons in the form of her mother and father always intervened.  She’d just asked for some patience.  It wasn’t as if she’d denied him.
Finally, she had to leave the shower, and quickly, she sought the safety and anonymity of the pool.  The water was a perfect temperature, just slightly cooler than the heat of her blood, neither hot nor cold, but just right for staying in for hours if she wanted.  She sank gratefully into the water and allowed it to caress her.  She felt a faint effervescence from the oxygen that was used to keep the waters clean.  Maybe she’d sign up later for a massage.  She wondered if she’d go for a man or a woman, then laughed at herself.  She knew she wasn’t ready to let either touch her body as intimately as was needed for a massage. Meanwhile she tried to look at her fellow bathers without being obvious.  They came in all sizes and ages, and most interesting to Heather, there seemed to be some threesomes and even foursomes that seemed closer than just friends.  She wondered if they were with the “Loving More” group she’d seen advertised.  They had to be.  She wondered what it would be like, three people together.  She snorted in derision.  Trusting one was bad enough.  Two would be worse.  Yet, the thought was strangely and disturbingly exciting to her.  She watched as two women and a man interacted with each other, all three of them unabashedly touching each other while still following the prominently-posted rules stating that overtly erotic behavior could be upsetting to other people.  The thought that she might be one of those women caused her to look away.
Her eyes caught a man and a woman.  The woman was one of the professional staff, and she was doing something with the man in the water.  She held him floating in the water with one hand in the small of his back.  Then she swirled him around in the water and clasped him to her.  She began massaging his back with sure, strong fingers that dug deeply into his muscles.  Stretching him out she folded him and then caressed him gently from thigh to chin.  From the man’s look, he was in some kind of bliss.
“Watsu.”
“What?”  She turned and saw the handsome older man who’d looked at her earlier.  With him was a tall blonde, strikingly beautiful with green eyes, even if she clearly was past 40.
“The technique is called Watsu.  The people at Harbin Springs developed it.”
“It’s one of the most incredibly relaxing things you would ever experience,” said his blonde companion.
“Well, I could use relaxation.  I was thinking about a massage later, if I could ever decide whether to choose a masseur or a masseuse.
“You should go for the Watsu.”
Just then, the woman performing the Watsu flipped the man and his head went under water, but he didn’t seem to mind as he rolled back over.
“Wow, he must really trust her,” Heather said.
“Of course,” said the man.  “Trust is the essence of Watsu.  Trust that the masseur has judged the rhythms perfectly.  It’s not that hard, actually.”
“It looks difficult.”
“Mitchell is very good at it,” said the companion.
The man smiled.  “Mitchell Hardaway.  This is my dear friend Gabrielle Schneider.
“Hi.  Heather Lackley.”
“Let Mitch give you his Watsu treatment,” said Gabrielle.  “I can see looking at you that you are wound tighter than a spring.”
“Oh, I’ll just have one of the professionals do it.”
“Oh, foo!” said Gabrielle, ducking down into the water and grabbing Heather’s feet, which she lifted from the bottom of the pool as she held Heather by placing her hand on the small of Heather’s back.  
Heather gasped in surprise, but for some reason she didn’t protest.  She floated in the water, completely free, her only contact being Gabrielle’s hand in the small of her back.  The breeze tweaked her wet nipples, which peeked above the water’s surface, and she felt them harden in response.  
“Trust, Heather.  Trust Mitch, and I will turn you over to him.  Just release yourself into his hands and the water.”
“OK,” she said, feeling a strange peace she’d not felt for awhile.  Perhaps it was that these people were perfect strangers.  She owed them nothing, and when they parted, they didn’t even have to exchange names. 
She closed her eyes and let the water hold her, with only Mitch’s hand providing perfect balance.  She lay there for what felt like minutes, but which was much less, then she felt herself moving slowly through the water.  Mitch’s hands guided her limbs and probed all her tense spots while she hung completely weightless in the warm water that flowed gently over her skin.  He bent her legs, stretching her tendons, and she felt herself turning into jelly.  His fingers gently caressed her skin, touching her in a sensual and peaceful way.  As she moved through the water, his hands or arms would occasionally brush her nipples, and each time it felt like an electric shock.
Then he held her to his chest and whispered, “Now you must really trust me.  I shall move you so that your face will go into the water.  You will know it before it happens.  Just feel the rhythm of your motions and you will be fine.”
She felt no fear, no tension as he began to move her more vigorously through the water.  Her face went under, but she suspended rather than held her breath as he rolled her over in the water.  She moved in perfect rhythm with her breathing and heartbeat.  She felt complete trust.  His hands manipulated her joints, probed her tensions and caressed her as he moved her effortlessly through the water.  His hands gripped the insides of her thighs as he flexed her hip joints, and she felt a warmness between her legs that was more than just the water.  It felt completely natural, and she felt no fear or surprise.  For once, her mother’s voice was silent.  His hands gently stroked her body, coming perilously close to her nipples or to her sex organs, but never actually touching them.  She almost wished he would.  No, she felt open to that, if it occurred, it would be OK even in front of everyone else in the pool.
All too soon he was holding her, letting her float and supporting her by only one hand.  She felt perfectly safe and at one with the water, with Mitch, and with Gabrielle.  Heather opened her eyes and saw them both looking down at her naked body, and she felt no shame or embarrassment.  The touch of their eyes was as gentle as Mitch’s hands had been earlier.
Later as they shared herbal tea on the deck overlooking the gardens and valleys, Heather said, “You know, I felt such a sense of trust and freedom.”
“You let go,” said Gabrielle.  
“You were very tense when we started, all in knots, as if you had tied yourself up for some reason,” Mitch added.
“Yes, it is true,” Heather replied.  She knew she had to talk about Brad.  The weight was still there in her heart.  “I trusted my boyfriend, Brad, and he betrayed me.”
Mitch smiled and leaned back in his chair, letting the sun light his face.  Heather noticed his finely chiseled features and a small scar on his chin and another almost hidden in the smile wrinkles on his left cheekbone just under the corner of his dark eyes.  “Betrayed is such a funny word.”
“Why is that?”
Gabrielle answered.  “Because it means you had a role for him to play, and when he didn’t play it, you felt betrayed.”
Heather turned to Gabrielle.  Her green eyes had a gentle look.  Her small, but sharp nose caught the late afternoon sunlight. “But, he was screwing another woman, too!  He told me I was the only one in his life.”
“I would maintain he betrayed himself, Heather, not you.” Gabrielle answered.
“He lied to me!”
“No doubt.  Yet, I’d bet that you knew something was wrong and that you were making a mistake giving him the role of Everything to you.”
Heather started to say something, but she knew Gabrielle was right.  She also wondered why she hadn’t been entirely truthful and hadn’t told them about the sex problem.  In spite of all her brave talk, she knew she still couldn’t talk about such things.  Plus, it was after she’d told Brad she hadn’t been having orgasms that he cheated on her.  Of course, it was partly her fault, but she didn’t want to admit that to these people at the moment.
“Your problem was you didn’t trust yourself, Heather.”  Mitch had taken over.  He leaned forward and his dark eyes engaged hers.  She felt the warmth of his sympathy and caring.  “You didn’t just open yourself to the experience, to the natural flow of life.  You tried to constrain it, to force it to make you happy.”
“But how else can a person be happy?” she pleaded.
“By going with the flow of life.  By letting life be life and people be people.  By not betraying yourself, by not investing too much in others and letting themselves be who they are,” Mitch said.
“You cannot be hurt that way,” Gabrielle added.  “Others can only betray themselves.  If you are true to yourself and to your feelings, you become invulnerable.”  Gabrielle raised her hand to interrupt as Heather started to speak.  “I know what you are going to say, but let me say that had you not betrayed yourself with Brad, you would only have felt sadness for him for what he has lost, for surely he has lost a beautiful woman.”  Gabrielle reached out and touched Heather on the cheek.  “The man is a fool.”
Heather felt great warmth and trust in these two.  She wanted to embrace them both, to hold them and to be held.
Mitch then spoke.  “If you are interested in this trust thing, Heather, please join us at our place in the city.  I think we can take you to heights you’ve never scaled and show you a world you’ve never experienced.”
The funny thing was, Heather believed him.

* * * * *
Heather stood outside the large townhouse overlooking the bay.  At first she thought it was Victorian, but then she noted the mullioned windows and other touches that said Edwardian, instead.  There was a simplicity not found in Victorian.  The front door, green with cream trim, and leaded stained glass panels, cinched her identification of the design.  She rang the bell firmly.  The chill air seemed to dig through her sweater.  Only after she’d removed her finger from the button did she have a sudden flash and wonder why she was here.  Trust?  What was that all about?  She almost turned to leave when the door opened, and inside stood Mitch and Gabrielle.  Gabrielle wore a long silk gown that hung simply and clung to her beautiful body.  Her nipples showed clearly through the fabric.  Heather had never looked at a woman quite in the same way she did at this moment.  Mitch wore a pair of slacks and a silk jacket over a collarless silk shirt.
“Heather!  Welcome! We were so glad to receive your call that you wanted to accept our invitation.”
She stepped into the foyer.  The walls were done in a warm terra cotta with strikingly accented black woodwork.  The hardwood floor was beautiful. Warm lights cheered her, and both Mitch and Gabrielle greeted her with warm hugs.  As Mitch took her sweater, he touched her bare arm, and she felt a little thrill.  
“My, how lovely you look,” Gabrielle said, placing a hand on each arm and looking her up and down.  Heather had picked something that would flatter her slender figure.  The simple white silk blouse with a camisole underneath and a short, dark blue skirt showed off her features well.  For some reason, she felt her nipples stiffen as Gabrielle looked at her.  She remembered how they had looked at her in the water and felt a surprising warmness.  She was shocked at herself to even have such thoughts. Their eyes had felt good on her nakedness, then.  She felt very strange.  She wasn’t used to praise like this or being the center of attention.  She’d always tried to be invisible, to stay out of the line of fire in her home, and most of her boyfriends had just wanted sex.  These people seemed to care about her as a human being.
“Come, let’s have some wine,” Mitch said, steering her into the living room overlooking the bay.  He poured her some cabernet, Jordan.  They had good tastes. The windows with their simple curtains let in the failing evening light as the sun set over the Bay.  She sat down on the bright overstuffed sofa done in a floral motif, while Mitch sat in a leather chair at right angles to the sofa.  Gabrielle sat next to Heather on her left.  She could feel the heat of Gabrielle’s body radiating as a beacon.  
They chatted about inconsequential things and drank their wine.  As Mitch refilled her glass, he asked her, “So, are you ready to explore trust to the very depths?”
“Yes, I think I might.”  She felt a strange butterfly in her stomach, and as she reached for her wine, she noted her hand shook ever so slightly.
“That’s not very trusting!” laughed Gabrielle.
“No, I guess it’s not,” Heather replied.
Mitch looked very relaxed in his leather chair with his dog sitting beside the chair.  “Do you remember our conversation?
“Every word of it.” 
“We need first to have total honesty.  You must agree always to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but.  This means you must not hold anything back.  For this to work, we must have all the facts as honestly as you know them.”  He placed his hand on her wrist.  “I know that will be difficult, but you have the right stuff.  You’re a strong and beautiful woman, Heather, and I admire you greatly for your courage in coming here.”  He gave her arm a little squeeze, and she felt the warmth of his eyes in hers.
Gabrielle took her left hand.  “There’s more to the story of your boyfriend, isn’t there?  Gabrielle’s blue eyes, the color of glacier melt, took on a warm cast that soothed Heather.  “You’ll feel better for telling us and getting it out in the open.  We know you have the courage to share this burden and begin getting it off your shoulders.”
 Heather felt so warm and good with these two caring people who saw her as a person of worth.  She took a deep breath.  “Yes, there was more.”  She paused to gather her courage.  “It was about sex, too.”  She stopped for a reaction, but Mitch and Gabrielle just waited, smiling and radiating warmth.
“That covers a lot of ground, Heather.  Tell us,” said Gabrielle.  “We understand these things.”
“OK.  It wasn’t that I wouldn’t have sex with him.  I don’t think I ever denied him.”  She stopped, unable to go on, feeling terribly vulnerable in revealing her deep and dark secret.  She felt ashamed that she’d even wanted sex with Brad or any of the other men she’d done it with.  Her desires plagued her, but she was unable to take the plunge, and now she couldn’t tell these people, as she’d not been able to tell Brad.  She felt tears forming in her eyes and running down her cheek.
Gabrielle dabbed at her tears with a finger.  “Oh, you poor dear!  It can’t be that bad!”  As Gabrielle leaned forward to give Heather an embrace, the loose top of her gown spilled forward, and Heather saw the soft roundness of her breasts, and then she had the desire to touch them, even to kiss them.  She flamed crimson with shame and clamped her own legs shut.
“I could never enjoy it!” she blurted out.
Mitch left his chair and knelt in front of her, taking her other hand.  “Oh, my poor beautiful Heather,” he said.  “How very distressing that must have been!  But there is no shame in that.  Many women, and men, too, have that problem.”
“But I drove Brad away!  I’ve driven every man away!  When they find out I am a cold fish, they run!”
“You’re not a cold fish, Heather,” Mitch said, stroking her arm.  “There at Wilton Hot Springs, when I was doing the Watsu with you, I could see you were responding, even though my intent was not to provoke a sexual response.”  His hand trailed up her arm and across her chest.  She felt his fingers find her nipple and stroke it through the fabric of her blouse and camisole.  “Your nipples showed me you were capable of a deep sexual response.”
She jerked away and crossed her arms across her chest, her face crimson.  What had she done?  She’d shamed herself in front of them.
“Heather, Heather,” Mitch said.  “I meant no offense.  I just wanted to remind you that your picture of yourself as a cold fish is hardly the truth.”  He took her right hand gently and pried her arm away from her breast as Gabrielle did the same with the other.
“It’s OK, Heather,” Gabrielle said, her voice calm and soothing.  “You are a very beautiful woman, but you’re probably trapped by some experiences in the past.”
Heather tensed.  She was suddenly terribly afraid she would have to tell everything, how she always disappointed her parents. They were so saintly, and she could never please them.  She just wasn’t good enough. At the moment, she just wanted to break the shell, to quit being the Good Girl and being invisible.  She wanted to be Bad and revel in it, and to hell with trying to live up to her parents’ expectations.
She took the only avenue out other than complete disclosure.  “Yes, trapped.  I feel that inside, I am a different person.  I do feel desire!” She blushed at that admission.
“What happens, Heather?” Gabrielle said.  “I’m a woman and know all about how we do and can respond.”  Gabrielle was leaning forward, and Heather glanced down, her eyes dragged to Gabrielle’s breasts.  Her face flaming, she looked up.
“I start feeling desire.  I want him, but as soon as I begin to respond, I feel myself grow all cold and pull back.  I end up just lying there, perhaps enjoying the warmth, but no more.”
“Oh, how horrible!” Gabrielle said, embracing her.  “My dear, I enjoy sex enormously.  For me, it is one of the greatest joys in life, to completely surrender to the orgasm and to be the total slut, if no more than for a moment.”
“Oh, Gabrielle, I want that!”  Even saying that cost Heather.  She felt her heart racing and butterflies in her stomach.
She saw Mitch and Gabrielle’s eyes meet.  Mitch’s eyes asked a question, and Gabrielle nodded ever the slightest bit.  They’d made some secret pact, Heather realized.  The answer as to what came quickly.
“Well, then, here is the offer.  I think we can release you from your self-imposed prison.  But, you place yourself into our hands at this moment and trust that everything we do from this moment forward until you leave the house of your own free will is for your pleasure and to teach you the true depths of trust.”
“Sight unseen?”
“Yes.  That’s part of it.”
“But what if this involves something disgusting or awful?”
“You don’t trust us?” Mitch asked, smiling.  “It’s OK to say yes, Heather.  This is all up to you.  You don’t have to do a thing.  We can sit her and drink wine and have a lovely evening, and we’ll all go away happy.”
“What would be so disgusting or awful?” asked Gabrielle.
Suddenly Heather was at a loss for words.  She couldn’t think of anything at that moment.  Everything, anything, and, from deep inside her darkest core, came another answer; nothing.  In fact, she realized that she hoped she would be made to do things, and that the attraction of this deal was that she would be completely free of her own chains.  Across the room, the dog moved and caught her eye.  Knowing she had to come up with some answer, she replied, hoping the confusion wasn’t obvious in her voice.  “Oh, I don’t know, trying to make me have sex with your dog, I guess!”  She blushed, knowing how lame her answer was, but, yet, she had the fleeting fantasy of being mounted by a dog, like she had read about in that Nancy Friday book. The thought was just too disgusting, and she shoved it back down into the dark part of her soul. 
Gabrielle laughed, a bright tinkling laugh that tripped through the air like a brook on bright stones.  “Don’t be silly, Heather!”
“Yes, that was silly.  I jumped at the first thing I could think of.”
“What would be too gross or disgusting?” Gabrielle asked her again.  “Don’t be embarrassed about such things.”
Heather felt her heart racing and butterflies in her stomach.  She would have to answer and accurately.  The dog was just beyond the pale, off the table.  What about . . . having sex with a woman?  She felt their eyes on her, demanding that she talk about her deepest fears.  “I don’t know.  What about sex with a woman?  Or buggery?  Is that the word?”
“Oh, Heather, how silly!  While I am definitely heterosexual, I find sex with another woman to be enormously satisfying in a way that a man simply cannot duplicate,” Gabrielle said, softly. “To taste another woman’s juices and to feel my tongue licking her tenderest parts is very erotic.”
Heather felt disgust but also excitement at the thought that she would lick another woman.  Her eyes fell again on Gabrielle’s breasts and felt her own desire, and that frightened her.
“As part of the deal, I offer you a safe word.  The word is ‘elephant,” Mitch said.  “If you utter this word, everything stops cold.  That’s the end of the experiment.  Finis.  You are in complete control.”
“No hard feelings?”
“No hard feelings, but understand if you use your safe word, everything ends.  We return to the point we are at this moment.”
“You won’t tell me anything of what you have in mind?”
“Not one thing, Heather, that is what trust is all about.  That is how you explore it.  Only by giving yourself completely and openly can you possibly escape that prison of yours.  All I will say is that the training will be for you.  We will put you in a program of severe training that will release your inner slut, as it were.”
She felt her heart thumping in her throat.  Her mouth was dry, and the little tremor was back in her hands.  Yet, she felt the rightness of this.  Only by trusting in this way, she knew, could she overcome what had happened with Brad.
“Just remember, Heather, in this, as in life, you are in ultimate control and can get out at any point,” Gabrielle added.
“But also remember, Heather, I want no argument.  Either you trust completely, or you don’t trust at all,” Mitch said, emphasizing his words.  “You must be our slave, totally obedient, for this to work.  Just this once, I will let you use your safe word for free, and we’ll just stop right where we are without any penalty.  But after that, if you utter the safe word it’ll mean I have failed utterly, and that you would be right not to trust that what will happen will be part of your Journey to wholeness.” 
Visions of being a slave danced in her mind.  She would have no will.  She would not be responsible at all.  They would make her do everything, maybe even punish her if she were bad and didn’t obey.  She wanted to be bad.  Her parents had never punished her.  They’d just had that terribly disappointed and hurt look when she failed them.  It always cut her to the heart, but she just wasn’t good enough for them.  Perhaps punishment was what she needed, strict discipline. “OK.  I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.”
Nothing happened.  They sat and drank their wine while Heather’s anxiety rose.  Mitch and Gabrielle talked about the political situation in Washington, the coming baseball season and the weather.
After about 10 or 15 minutes, Mitch finally said, “Come with us, Heather.”
Both Gabrielle and Mitch rose, and so she followed them out of the room, up the stairs and to a door covered in black leather and decorated with brass tacks.  Heather gasped as they entered the room.  It was a . . . dungeon.  Chains hung from the ceiling.  Whips were lined up on the wall.  In the center of the room was a large, wooden “X” with padded leather straps at the ends and a pivot in the center.
Mitch smiled.  “I see this is a surprise.  I will explain just this once.  You can, of course, utter ‘elephant’ at any moment, and we’ll go downstairs, have another glass of wine, but then our experiment is totally finished.  You can put yourself into our hands, and I promise you an experience in trust and pleasure such as you have never experienced before. Do you understand?”
She nodded, still confused.  She was frightened, no doubt, but the thought of turning herself over to Gabrielle and Mitch strangely exhilarated her.
“Now, I will issue some orders, and you will comply without questioning or complaint, or you will utter your safe word.”
She nodded and felt as if she’d jumped into a pool without knowing the water depth.
“Take off her clothes, Gabrielle.  Put her on the X.”
Gabrielle’s eyes glowed as she looked into Heather’s and began to unbutton her blouse. Heather felt a strange excitement as her blouse came off, revealing her pretty silk camisole.  Then her belt and with a quick zip, her skirt fell to the floor.  She felt the slick silk rubbing against her rapidly stiffening nipples. She’d never  been undressed by another woman, before. The thought had always repelled her, but, yet, repressed, deep inside her was a curiosity to know what a woman’s touch would do and whether she would respond.
“Oh, look, Mitch, she wore her prettiest undies for us.”
“Yes, she did,” said Mitch, touching her camisole and very gently tweaking her nipples through the silk.  “Almost as if she expected us to see them.”
Gabrielle lifted the bottom of the camisole and lifted it over Heather’s head.  She wore only her panties.  She felt exposed, open, and without will.
“My, what beautiful breasts,” said Gabrielle, gently stroking each one and making her nipples tingle.  Heather had never been touched intimately by a woman.  She wanted to cringe, but she was surprised at how good Gabrielle’s touch felt.  She felt horribly ashamed of her feelings.  She tried not to think about Gabrielle becoming more intimate with her, but the thought of Gabrielle touching her between her legs would not go away. Gabrielle’s hands trailed down her sides, she hooked her fingers into Heather’s bikini panties and slowly pulled them down her legs until they pooled at the floor leaving her completely naked.
Gabrielle guided Heather to the large, wooden X and backed her up to it.  The sheepskin lining the wide straps at her wrists felt soft and sensual as Gabrielle pulled first one and then the other tight.  Then she fastened the ones on her ankles and a large one that spanned her midsection.  
Mitch walked over to her and tilted the cross backward.  Her feet came off the floor, and then he spread it along the center pivot.  She felt her legs pulled apart.  She was totally exposed and totally vulnerable.  The thought made her wet. He touched her breasts familiarly, as if he owned them, sliding his palms across her nipples.  “Yes, they are very pretty.”  He removed his hand, and she wondered what was next.  Suddenly his hands were between her legs.  She tried to close them, but she couldn’t.  The straps pulled against her legs, keeping them splayed.  She was completely helpless.  He probed her with complete familiarity touching and rubbing all her sensitive parts.  His finger slid along the sensitive flesh between her labia finding her clitoris and rubbing across it. She couldn’t stop him without uttering the safe word, and, strangely, she found his touch pleasurable.
“My goodness, Gabrielle, Heather’s wet.”
“Really?”
Heather blushed in humiliation, then looked down with shock as Gabrielle explored her with more delicate hands.  She’d never been touched that way by a woman.  Her face was red with embarrassment, but she felt a heat she’d not felt before.
“Why so she is!”  Gabrielle’s fingertip caressed her clitoris, and Heather felt a moan escape her lips.  She looked down with fascination as Gabrielle’s fingertip massaged her and was surprised that she didn’t feel loathing at a woman’s touch. She had no choice, she was naked and spread, which, she realized, freed her.  Nonetheless, that she felt excitement from a woman’s touch shamed her.  She wanted to thrust herself onto Gabrielle’s finger, to feel it probing inside her, finding that G-spot she read about and making her cum. Her face felt hot from shame. 
“We need to shave this slut.  She must be completely open, with no way to hide.  The world must be able to see her swollen and wet clit so everyone will know what a slut we have, here.  Get the shaving gear, and while you’re at it, come back suitably attired.”
“Perhaps, Mr. Master Man, who never quite remembers I am not his slave,” said Gabrielle, pinching his cheek gently.  Mitch rolled his eyes.
Heather had never been shaved before.  Oh, she’d trimmed her hair pretty well for her bikini, but completely shaved, never.  She realized her lips would spread and her clitoris would protrude, and they would know that she was excited.  There would be no way to hide it.  Mitch’s hands could explore here everywhere, and there was nothing at all she could do about it.
“While we wait, I think I will put a vibrator in you and just watch.  I think I’ll also set up the video camera.”  He walked over to a chest, which he opened, and removed a long vibrator that was colored a bright purple and had two thongs attached to the upper end.
She couldn’t believe this.  He was going to tape it while he stuck a vibrator in her?  He would be watching?  Still she had no choice, and that excited her.  She trusted that he wouldn’t hurt her.  The feeling was liberating.  She began for the first time in her life to feel the first inklings of freedom about her own sexuality, and it seemed she’d gotten past that wall that always arose when her sexual excitement moved beyond the first stages of response.  .
Mitch moved a camera in the corner to a few feet in front of her, turned it on, and found the focus.  She felt naked and exposed, but then he walked over to her.  She heard the low hum of the vibrator.  He ran the tip of it along her slit, and every time it touched her clitoris, she felt her thighs quiver.  It slipped inside her, and she felt a moan escape her lips.  He tied the thongs behind her so that it wouldn’t fall out, and then he stepped back and sat in the chair and watched. She felt his hot eyes on her.  She wanted to spread her legs even more.  She wanted to be shaved so that he could see everything, touch her anywhere and everywhere.  She wanted to suck his cock until it spurted in her mouth.  She wanted him to thrust it deeply into her.  A deep well of passion felt released, but then she began to hit that wall that always was there.  Her excitement quit growing, and she felt isolation from her body and then desolation.
“Uh!  Uh!” she moaned, thrusting her hips forward against the vibrator as best she could. She wanted to recapture that feeling and come for him, to have him capture it on tape.
Gabrielle returned with a battery powered electric clippers, a basin, a towel, some shaving cream and a razor.  She also was wearing an outfit of golden chains that concealed nothing.  Rows of the chains crossed her bare breasts and dipped down across her lower belly, ending just above her crotch.  Heather noted that Gabrielle was shaved, and that the sight of her lips hanging down was strangely exciting. She blushed at the thought she might be forced to lick Gabrielle, there.
Just as the wave was about to crest, Mitch reached between her legs and shut off the vibrator.  “Oh!” she moaned, trying to keep it inside as he pulled it out.  Heather had never felt such lust.
“Not yet, my pretty Heather,” Mitch said.  We want you completely naked so we can show you what a slut you really are.  “Shave her, Gabrielle.”
Gabrielle took the clippers in her hands and turned them on.  They hummed, then buzzed as Gabrielle ran them through her pubic hair, slicing it off wholesale.  She opened the legs of the cross even wider.  The tendons in Heather’s thighs pulled under her skin as her legs were stretched wide apart.  Gabrielle touched her familiarly, pulling her lips this way and that to remove her hair from the various nooks and crannies.  Now and then Gabrielle’s fingers would touch her engorged clitoris, and Heather would moan.  She wanted to cum so badly!  She felt for the first time that she might be able to get over that final hill that always prevented her from cumming.
She looked down at herself.  All that remained was a short, dark stubble.  Gabrielle dipped a washcloth into the steaming basin and held it against Heather’s groin.  The heat felt good on her inflamed organs.  Gabrielle soaped up the stubble, rubbing Heather vigorously.  She was so close to cumming!  Just as the pressure was starting to build to the point of being unbearable, she stopped rubbing her.
“Noooo!” Heather moaned.
She looked down as the razor took off the stubble.  With every swipe, Gabrielle rinsed the hair off the blades, so she never received a burn.  She watched, fascinated.  Mitch watched, too, and she liked that, not that she had a choice.  She wanted to get her hands on her pussy, to finish herself off like she’d heard her roommates discuss in college or seen in porn movies that Brad had her watch, but her hands were restrained.  She pulled against the straps, trying to break a hand loose.  Of course, she couldn’t.
Then she was completely bare, the job done.  She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing anatomy there for the first time.  Mitch inspected with his hands, fondling and rubbing her.  She didn’t care and thrust her pelvis forward against his finger, moaning.
Mitch just laughed.  “Do you want to cum?”
“Oh, God, Yes,” she moaned.
“Perhaps later.  You are a worthless slut and haven’t yet earned the right to have an orgasm.”
“Screw her, Mitch!” Gabrielle said.  “I want to guide you into her and watch.”
“Ok.”  
Gabrielle unbuttoned Mitch’s shirt, then undid his belt and dropped has trousers to the floor.  She hooked her hands in his underwear and pulled them down, too.  Heather gasped with surprise at the size of Mitch’s erect cock.  She hadn’t noticed it being that big at the hot springs.  
The cross was attached to the floor by a pedestal with swivels where it joined the X and at the floor.  This allowed the height to be adjusted, but there was no need to do anything but bring her feet up.  She was horizontal, just at the height of Mitch’s cock.  He stepped between her thighs.  He was just going to fuck her, and there wasn’t anything at all she could do about it.  Well, yes, there was.  She could say “Elephant,” and if they were as good as their word, that would be the end of it.  Surprisingly, she didn’t want to utter that word.  Heather looked up and saw the mirror, and, fascinated she watched as Gabrielle spread her lips and guided Mitch’s huge cock in.  She was so wet, there was little resistance, and he was in up to the hilt.  She couldn’t stop him, or Gabrielle, who began rubbing Heather’s clit.
As Mitch slid in and out of her, the angle brought his cock right up against her G-spot.  Every thrust was ecstasy, and with Gabrielle rubbing her, she got even closer before she felt the brakes go on. 
Within a minute, Mitch apparently noticed.  “Well, our little slut is stopping short of the destination, tonight,” he said, continuing to fuck her.
“Well, keep fucking her, Mitch,” Gabrielle replied.
“Yes, she’s just a cunt to be fucked and used.”  He started pumping her harder.  The thought of just being used almost brought her over the edge, but then she fell back again. Then Mitch gave a cry and thrust deeply into her.
“Tilt the table forward, Gabrielle, and then lower your cunt onto her face so she can eat you out.”  Gabrielle adjusted the table and then straddled Heather.  Heather was horrified!  To perform a homosexual act on Gabrielle was horrible, simply horrible . . . or was it?  In spite of the elephant word, she didn’t have a choice. She had no will, and this was being forced onto her. From those deep recesses came the dark thoughts, that she wondered what another woman would taste like and how her clit would feel on her tongue. What if she liked it? Did that make her a lesbian, and did that matter? She’d gotten wet when she read those fantasies in the Nancy Friday book. She rationalized; it wasn’t like this was gay sex.  Mitch was there, still fucking her.  So, when Gabrielle lowered her bare cunt down to Heather’s mouth, she stuck out her tongue and licked Gabrielle.  She could feel the woman’s thighs quiver as her tongue found her little clit and licked it.  Her tongue roved around everywhere, finding the opening to her vagina but always returning to Gabrielle’s clit.  Gabrielle spread her labia apart so that Heather’s tongue could find it more readily.  She sucked on it, her tongue licking the tip.  Heather felt Gabrielle’s salty juices flowing all over her chin and cheeks.  The woman moaned and cried, bucked, and then came with a shudder. Heather felt a deep joy she had made Gabrielle cum like that.
Then Mitch moaned and thrust hard and deep, and she felt him pumping his cum into her.  Still, she only teetered on the edge and couldn’t go over.  
“Well, that was interesting, Gabrielle.  She turned out to be quite a cunt eater, didn’t she?”
“Yes, if that was her first time, she has a talent for it.”  Gabrielle stroked her cheek gently.  “And so one of her taboos has gone by the way.”
“What next?  I think we really need to push the envelope, here.”
“I’ll go get the dog.”
“Excellent idea.  I’d like to see that.”
Dog?  Heather’s heart began to race.  Dog?  She wasn’t going to let them give her to a dog!  That was disgusting!  “Wait a minute, I didn’t agree to any dog!” she said.
“You agreed to go along with anything and everything or utter the safe word.”
“But, this is disgusting!”  She looked up, and Gabrielle had returned with their dog, a boxer.
“You know what the agreement was, Heather.”  
Gabrielle stood in the doorway with the dog.  Then Heather knew there was no way she could or would go through with this.  Yet, those dark voices from the depths, the deepest fantasies wanted the dog to mount her and thrust his big, red cock into her. “Elephant!” she cried.  “Elephant!  I’m not having sex with any damned dog!” She knew her real fear was of those dark voices.
Gabrielle gave a big smile, as did Mitch, and the two of them began unbuckling the straps.  Each gave her a hug.  She was confused.   At one moment, they were going to exploit her, and at the next hugging her.
“So, you understand after all,” said Mitch.
“Trust has limits,” said Gabrielle.  “Up to those limits, you trust.  Beyond that you utter the safe word.”
Heather rubbed her wrists where the straps had dug in, in spite of their sheepskin lining. “I guess life is like that, too, isn’t it?”