The Two Sisters Pt. 02: Victoria

This is the second part of the story.

Again, it's a slow burn. If you have not read part 1, I would suggest you do.

There is fetish content - if that's not your thing, please move on to something that is more to your taste.

Sitting on the train back to London, I promised myself that I would not hold regrets about my time with Sara ending. I had much to cherish, not least of which was that I'd scratched the itch about having sex with a woman - it had been amazing! I'd also discovered that being submissive to a partner was extremely satisfying!

In my bag were two temptations, the memory stick and Lauren's note with her contact details on. I had no doubt that I would give in to the temptation to watch the contents of the memory stick, but I needed to buy a decent vibrator. What to do about Lauren was more difficult. Sara and she would talk, perhaps Sara might even tell Lauren to keep away from me.

I also had no reason to contact Lauren now Sara and I were finished.... but Lauren was not only beautiful she was, as Sara had said..."dangerous". I was intrigued by that and needed to think what to do. There was no hurry.

***

At home, I found living with my parents, even for a few days, difficult. After three years away at Uni, the family home felt stifling, and privacy limited.

After a week, I packed up my things, moved into my cousin Nigel's flat, and prepared to start work. I had a room in the basement of his attractive villa in Maida Vale with its own bathroom and access to the garden. I felt extremely fortunate. The best thing of all was Nigel spent a chunk of his time at his country cottage in mid Wales, so at weekends, the house was effectively mine.

He set a competitive rent and gave me a short list of Do's and Dont's and that was all.

The warm weather of July had given way to a wet early August. I joined a gym, and my father fixed up my old bicycle as the Toyota failed its MOT and had to be scrapped. I didn't think about Sara, Lauren or even look at the memory stick. I was so busy everything else slipped to the back of my mind.

My first three weeks at work were a whirlwind of induction, meetings and a couple of social dos. I was expected in the office every day except Friday unless I was doing research, when I could work from home.

***

The first Saturday in September I went to meet one of my old Uni housemates at the Tate Modern. Linda was down for the weekend and suggested we meet for lunch. I walked to the tube; it was a bright sunny day. I'd put on my new white wrapround skirt, a black top and carried my denim jacket.

I stopped at a coffee shop to get a bagel. I joined the queue to get served. There was a young woman ahead of me, her blonde hair cut to a short blunt bob. It was when she turned with her coffee cup in her hand that I first saw her face. I knew in a second it was Victoria, the girl off the video...

The hair was very different, but the face was the same, as was her light build and delicate features. It was Victoria, I was certain of it.

I was distracted when the guy behind the counter asked me what I wanted, when I turned round having made my purchases, she was gone...

As I left the shop, I looked up and down the street, but disappointingly she was nowhere to be seen.

I made my way down to the station, wondering whether she might also catch a tube. I scanned the platform. I'd only seen her momentarily, but she was I thought wearing a white blouse, black skirt and pantyhose and a black jacket. There was no one on the platform dressed the same way. Then as the train pulled in, I saw someone emerge from behind two others at the far end of the platform. It was her...

I dashed down the platform, the train doors opened, she got on, and as the doors started to close, I reached the same carriage.

She sat down. There was an empty seat beside her...

"Just made it," I said as I sat down, trying to sound nonchalant. She smiled at me, and I smiled back. Her eyes were the palest blue...

The train started to move. I sat thinking how I might engage her conversation but realised that it was not going to be easy. No one talks on tube trains, especially when they're not busy.

It was as we approached Paddington that fate lent a hand. I wasn't really watching her, so I didn't see what I happened, but as she went to drink from her cup the train rattled over some points and jolted her. The first I really saw of the accident was her coffee cup slipping from her hand and landing in my lap.

The heat from the coffee that spilt was enough to make me jump, and then the lid came off the coffee and the remaining contents ended up in my lap too.

"Oh my God," Victoria squealed when she saw what had happened.

The hot coffee had covered my skirt. I was slightly scalded, but apart from that the only hurt was to my pride.

Victoria reached into her bag and pulled out a tissue. It was completely inadequate; I was wet through.

"I'm so sorry," she wailed. "That was dead clumsy of me."

"Not to worry," I replied as calmly as I could. "These things happen." I fetched a couple of tissues from my bag to try and mop the worst of the mess up. Victoria dabbed my skirt too, but it made little difference.

"I'm really sorry, your skirt looks ruined. You must let me buy you a new one."

"I'm not sure it's that bad," I replied. "I may be able to get it to wash out."

"But it won't, you know it won't. Coffee is very hard to remove. Listen, I'm not sure where you are getting off, but let me give you my phone number. If you can buy a new skirt, I'll happily pay for it." She reached into her bag and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen. She then wrote her name, address and phone number on it, tore the paper in half and gave it to me. The words Victoria Sanders were all I needed to see.

"And you are?"

I gave her my name address and phone number.

"We're near neighbours Jane. You live about three streets away."

"Really? Well fancy that."

Shortly afterwards, the train slowed down at Baker Street, and I needed to change. I told Victoria who said she was going to Oxford Circus.

"Please ring me when you know how much it cost to replace your skirt, Jane."

"Yes of course I will."

"Perhaps I could treat you to a glass of Prosecco for your trouble?"

"There's no need., really. I'll be in touch."

"Thank you, and once again I'm so sorry..."

The train stopped and I alighted.

As I stood on the platform deliberating whether to go on to the Tate or go back home to change, I realised what a good day it had been...

***

The decision about whether to go home and change or whether to meet Linda looking rather dishevelled was a simple one. I went as I was. Linda thought the whole thing was hilarious, but she was not particularly dress conscious. A t shirt jeans and cardigan were here normal garb and that day was no different.

After our visit to the Tate we went our separate ways, she to a concert on Clapham Common and me to Oxford Circus to buy a new skirt and look for a good vibrator...

***

That evening, I unwrapped my purchases. The replacement skirt was identical to the one damaged and my new toy, whilst a bit noisy, was eminently powerful...

I went to bed early and lying naked on my bed with my new companion plugged in, booted up my laptop and loaded the memory stick.

I soon discovered that the Victoria 2 file I hadn't opened whilst I was at Sara's was password protected. I cursed.

I tried various obvious combinations - 12345, ABCDE, abcde before using my imagination and playing with letters and words from Sara and Lauren's first and surname. Still nothing.

Frustrated, I tried Victoria 3,4 and 5 they too were password protected.

I gave up, found one of my usual Lesbian porn sites and found a video of an amazonian black girl taking her strap on to a fresh faced looking young white woman. The wand relieved my tension and frustration very quickly...

***

The Sunday was another perfect day. I had nothing planned but decided to try my luck by texting Victoria to tell her I'd bought the replacement skirt, and that it was £40.

Almost immediately there was a ping of a reply from her on my phone inviting me to drop in to her apartment at lunchtime.

I agreed without thinking and headed for the shower. Standing under the spray rinsing my hair, I had the first niggles of guilt about whether I should front up to Victoria and tell her I'd been stalking her the day before....

Once the niggle started it wouldn't go away. I stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom drying my hair and it was there. It was with me back in the bathroom as I applied some concealer to the nasty red spots that had emerged overnight on my forehead. It was with me when I put on my black button through sleeveless dress...

***

Victoria's apartment was the ground floor of a big old building about ten minutes' walk away. It was an altogether grander place than my cousins.

Inside the ceilings were high and the flooring was oak. She led me through the kitchen at the back to a small, paved patio. On a teak table there were flutes and an ice bucket. The Prosecco was already open.

Two comfy chairs were positioned in a sunny nook under a wall covered with ivy.

"You will have a glass, won't you?" she asked smiling. She too was in a dress, hers floral but tightly fitted.

"That would be lovely," I replied, wishing to sound gracious.

We settled down and chatted. The flat was her father's. He was in Brazil and had been for five years. Her mother had died when she was very young and like me, she had no siblings. Her father was clearly prosperous, she had enjoyed a privileged education at a single sex boarding school, but not gone to Uni. A year at a finishing school in Geneva had set her on her way in adulthood, she worked for a Swiss luxury goods company in the West End.

The first glass slipped down all to easily and Victoria topped us up whilst I was explaining about my humdrum upbringing. I was wary of drinking on an empty stomach, but Victoria had thought of that and produced charcuterie, olives and ciabatta.

Even though I'd only just met her I decided I liked her. She was modest, almost demure, and very softly spoken. Her hair glinted in the sunlight and her blue eyes held my gaze. All I needed to do was to decide whether to tell her the truth or not. That was still niggling me...

In the end, events took over that made it unnecessary for me to speak first.

She had made a fruit salad. I said something about she should not have gone to so much trouble and she said it was nothing. As we were sitting eating it and enjoying the third glass of fizz, she became noticeably restless. I ignored it for a while but then as we finished, I saw her mumble something to herself and she stood up and went indoors. She returned momentarily, clutching two £20 notes and handed them to me.

"This is for the skirt. I'm sorry I ruined the other one."

"Thank you, and don't worry about it. You've done more than enough to repay me, the lunch has been delicious."

"I'm not sure about that really Jane. The thing is that it wasn't really an accident at all, I emptied the coffee over you deliberately."

"You what!?"

"I did it on purpose."

"I don't understand..."

"Oh goodness, this is all going to sound rather tawdry..."

"Sorry?"

"Well..." she paused for a moment, and then after a deep breath said, "Lauren Gitings made me do it."

"Lauren? You know Lauren? And why did she make you do it?"

"It's a long story. I think it would be better if I didn't tell you. Let me just say that I owed her a favour."

"I still don't understand."

"I owed Lauren a favour. She came up with the crazy plan of the coffee. It was done to test you and for me to get to you. She wants to see you."

"But she has my number or at least her sister has, why didn't she just call me?"

"She wanted to know whether you saw the video of me, the one on the computer at her parent's house. So, she devised a plan for me to stalk you yesterday. If you recognised me at the coffee bar and followed me, she reckoned that would prove what she wanted to know."

There was a long silence. We both understood the implications of Victoria's last statement.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. I could feel the colour coming to my cheeks, and it was all I could do to not burst into tears.

"How much did you see?" she asked eventually.

"The first film of the interview, just the interview."

"I see."

There was a long pause. Lauren had created a situation where we were both guilty of something, and we were both feeling the hurt of our actions. Sara's last words about keeping away from Lauren were ringing in my ears, and here I was less than a month later in a situation created by her.

"I'm not sure if it will make you feel any better Jane, but I think you probably need to know that I was a willing participant to the making of that video, and the others."

"Thank goodness for that. That's probably not the right choice of words, but well I mean, at least you weren't coerced..."

"Definitely not."

I sat in silence; my brain working overtime to try and figure out what to do.

"Would it help you if I explained more?"

"Maybe, but I don't want you to embarrass yourself by telling me things that are... well you know... personal and intimate."

"Let me be the judge of that. It might actually be good for me to confess to some of this Jane..."

"OK, then."

"I'll just go and get another bottle and perhaps make some coffee.

A few minutes passed and then she emerged, set the coffee things out and opened the Prosecco. There was a small plate of almond biscuits.

"I went to Geneva three years ago with no sexual experience. I was nineteen and the only English speaker in my year which put me at something of a disadvantage. I missed a lot of the early friendship making by my classmates as many only spoke German or French. When I told my father about the situation, he hastily arranged a French Language tutor. I had some basic French, but it was inadequate.

Helga, the woman who taught me lived a bus ride away from the school. I was to have two lessons, four hours, tuition a week. Helga was the wife of a Civil Engineer. They had one daughter who was in her late twenties and lived elsewhere.

Helga was old school. She wore her long dark hair in a bun and had glasses on a string on her nose. She was a competent tutor, and her lessons, at least to start with, helped me converse with the other girls on the course.

After a couple of weeks, the lessons started to stretch me. They were well beyond what I'd learnt in school, and I struggled to keep up. Helga started to get impatient, especially if we had to go back over ground covered in a previous session. She devised a homework schedule for me to help build my vocabulary. She announced there would be a test at the start of each lesson to check that I'd done the homework.

Trying to fit all the extra work in as well as the other coursework from school and have a social life became progressively more difficult. Helga could tell immediately if I'd done the work required...

One Friday, I only got four questions right from the ten she asked me. She was very cross and said that pupils who did so badly when she was teaching would have been punished. I apologised and promised to be more attentive.

The next test the following Tuesday was even worse. She asked me twenty questions, and I only got about three right out of twenty. She was incandescent and threatened to call my father.

I was worried about the outcome of any call with my father. He's very short tempered and intolerant of laziness, so I just blurted out, "So just punish me like you would have done a bad pupil when you were a teacher!"

'If that's what you want then, that's what you'll get,' Helga rasped in reply. 'Go and lean over the back of that armchair and await your punishment.'

"I thought that she was sort of joking, and didn't think twice about doing what she asked. I'd never been punished physically as a child, so I was totally ignorant.

Suffice it to say, the first time I was made to hold up my skirt and she gave me twelve hard swats across my buttocks with her hands. I yelped a bit, but the main injury was to my dignity.

As far as Helga was concerned this incident set the precedent and gave her the licence. There is no doubt in my mind that she had strong sadistic lesbian tendencies, and a naive skinny English girl woke her worst nature up.

I won't bore you with the details, but the punishments became frequent and more severe. Firstly, she stopped using her hands and started using a small paddle, but things really changed when she insisted, I remove not only my skirt or leggings, but also my underwear."

"That sounds like assault to me Victoria. Why didn't you report her?"

Victoria reached down beside her chair and pulled a pack of cigarettes from her bag. She lit one with a small lighter and as she exhaled the first cloud of smoke said,

"Because it turned me on Jane..."

"Ah..."

"And Helga found out as soon as I lowered my panties..."

"Did you?"

"She rubbed me till I came, and in return I crawled under her skirt and licked her..."

"Oh my God..."

"She manufactured the same situation the following lesson, and then it became the routine."

"How long did it go on for?"

"Till Christmas... and then in the New Year she came up with a new regime..."

"Worse?"

"I'm not sure worse is the right word. Certainly, some of it was worse, but a lot of it was very enjoyable...

The rest of my class went skiing for two weeks in January. Helga persuaded my father that my progress was slow, and I needed more intense lessons so I should stay with her for the two weeks whilst the rest were in Wengen."

"And he agreed?"

"Yes."

"Jesus."

"I spent two weeks at her house. Her husband was working in Paris, so she had me on my own. I will not go into detail as to what happened. She was very manipulative, and I was submissive, so she took complete control of me, complete control."

"She should be in jail."

"Probably, but some of her lessons were very instructive. I'd had no mother figure in my life until Helga remember. She also woke the taste in me for pleasure through pain. She introduced me to the cane."

I blushed at her bluntness and was flummoxed what to say, "How did it end?" I managed eventually.

"I went to Helga for lessons until I left the finishing school. It ended when I returned to England.

I was due to move in here in the July, but the tenants who were moving out reported a problem with the plumbing, and when a builder came to look at it, they discovered a load more. The bathroom and the kitchen had to be replaced. It was going to take two months.

My father contacted an old work colleague who suggested a woman he knew who did short term accommodation locally for single women. I went to look at the house, it was in Edgware. The owner was Melanie Ryder."

"Ryder as in the Mrs Ryder mentioned in the film?"

"The same. Melanie had a room available on the top floor of her small house. It had a bed and a wash basin, but no toilet. The only toilet upstairs was the one in the main bathroom. It wasn't ideal, and the room was rather plain and hot in the summer heat, but as it was only for a few weeks and it was cheap, I moved my few belongings in and started work in the West End."

"And you entered into a relationship with her..."

"It wasn't as simple as that Jane, she was more subtle, Melanie, nothing like Helga. Helga was full of passion for the arts and language and her family. She took advantage of a situation that presented itself and enjoyed punishing me, but ultimately, she was a wife and a mother.

Melanie told me right at the outset she was gay, and she had a girlfriend, though circumstances made it difficult for them to be together. She was mid-thirties and quite fit. When she dressed up to go out, which was not often, she was attractive. She had a good figure, and her hair was always nicely cut and coloured. She worked part time at one of the local hospitals in the pharmacy and she had been trained as a nurse in the Army.

Melanie insinuated herself into my life. There were things that she was very particular about, but she was a single woman living in her own space for many years and I was an interloper, so perhaps that is not surprising.

I have spent many hours thinking about whether I led her on, or whether she stage managed what happened. It sounds strange, but I think we probably both determined the outcome.

I said earlier I would not go into more detail than was necessary, but with Melanie, it is impossible to just brush it away in a few sentences. If you want, I will tell you in more detail?"

Victoria had piqued my interest. I had nothing better to do than sit in the afternoon sun and listen to her tale, so I agreed. She made a pot of tea and brought it out onto the patio, and we settled down again in the sunshine.

"In the first couple of days Melanie was very kind. She offered to cook for me every other day and also take care of my laundry. The plumbing in her house was a bit unreliable and Melanie got a bit uptight on the first evening and insisted that in future I did not try and flush my tampon applicators down the loo. Apart from that I settled in quite easily.

At the end of the first week, I remember she made a chicken curry on the Friday night. When I woke on the Saturday, I had an upset stomach and a severe bout of diarrhoea. Melanie went out for the day, but my plans had to be altered because of my condition. She gave some pills to settle my stomach down and a tranquiliser and I spent the day in bed.

She looked in on me in the evening, I was still under the weather. The stomach cramps were still unbelievably bad, and I was still going to the loo every couple of hours. It continued through the early part of the night. How I wished that my room had a toilet. Struggling downstairs not disturbing Melanie was hard. The symptoms finally died down around dawn, and I slept.

When I finally woke it was mid-morning. I felt drained. My poor bottom was extremely sore, and I was filthy. I decided to have a shower. Stripping off I noticed there was no lock to the door, but I presumed I would have privacy.

I was just drying myself, and feeling better, when Melanie walked into the bathroom. She didn't knock. She was collecting the washing from the hamper she said. My dirty panties were on the floor by the shower door, and she scooped them up. The evidence in the gusset of my illness was obvious."

'I'll find you some cream to soothe your anus,' "she said and left me standing in just a towel with my face beet red with embarrassment. A few moments later, whilst I was standing in the nude cleansing my face she walked back in, again without knocking."

'These suppositories are the best thing I know of for your condition,' she said. 'If you need my help inserting them, let me know...' "and she held up two small plastic wrapped objects.

I declined her offer of help, and was cross she had just walked in without knocking, I wanted to do without her precious medicaments, The discomfort down below however persuaded me not to be so stupid.

I struggled with the first one, but it was worth, it as it was very effective.

I was fit to go to work on the Monday, and everything returned to normal. My clean laundry was laid out on my bed when I got home that evening. The events of the weekend were forgotten.

The second week was unremarkable except for one of my co-workers invited me to her birthday party the following Saturday. I remember looking forward to it and planning what I should wear.

Dressed in jeans, flouncy top and espadrilles, with freshly washed and styled hair, I was ready for Noon so I could be at Covent Garden for 1pm. As I walked down the short path from the front door to the street I tripped on one of the steps and went flying. I tried to break my fall with my right hand. My hand and wrist took some of the impact and my ankle turned over as my right leg took the rest. I screamed in pain, Melanie rushed out. She wrapped me round her shoulder and helped me up and back indoors.

My hand was badly grazed, and my wrist and ankle were sprained. Melanie fortunately, knew exactly what to do, and had the grazes cleaned and dressed in a matter of minutes. My wrist and ankle were in a bad way. She was pretty sure they weren't broken, but was worried enough to go to a local pharmacy and buy bandages and supports. After she'd patched me up, she gave me a couple of painkillers and some water.

I never did make the party; I had to ring and cancel. I couldn't walk and my right arm was next to useless.

Melanie told me that the best thing for me was bed rest, and so with her supporting me I struggled up to my room. My ankle was agony even after the painkillers."

'I'm going to have to undress you. Is that, OK?' she said.

"I was in no place to argue, so I agreed. Getting my blouse, bra and espadrilles off was easy with me sitting on the bed, I barely had to move. Getting my jeans off was dreadful, even though she was very gentle, Finally, she propped me up in bed in just my panties, with a pillow under my wrist."

'I'm a bit worried about what damage you've done to yourself Victoria. I have a friend who's a doctor. I'm going to call her.'

"With my wrist and ankle throbbing I sat waiting for the doctor, confined to bed for the second weekend running. I felt a fool...

Sonya, the doctor, arrived about an hour later. She carefully removed all the strapping and bandages and examined me. Both my wrist and ankle were now badly swollen. She confirmed Melanie's conclusion that nothing was broken but told me I would need to get to a hospital for X rays and a scan to check for ligament and tendon damage. She would arrange it and be in touch and gave me a prescription for stronger pain killers. After she'd gone, Melanie brought me a mug of soup and some toast. She then went and picked up the prescription and brought the new tablets to me with a jug of water."

'I hate to mention it Jane, but with you as immobile as you are, we're going to need to be practical about the lack of a toilet up here,' she said.

"My heart sank as the implications of her remark sunk in."

'I could go and get some adult diapers I suppose, but I've never been fond of them from a hygiene perspective. I think it's going to be a day or two until you're able to get out of bed and I'll pick up a bedpan from the hospital on Monday. That really only leaves the catheter option for now. I'll go and fetch what we need.'

"I'd never had a catheter inserted in my life, so had no idea what it entailed. She returned with various plastic encased items and bottles. and put them on the bed. She put on gloves and then eased my knickers down to my knees."

'I'd rather hoped that you would be shaved,' she said gazing at my pubes.

"No, I've never...."

'Never mind, we can soon attend to that,' and she went back downstairs and fetched a small hair trimmer.

'I need to get your vulva clean. I'll just take the thick of it off for now, and we can tidy you up later.'

"I lay in something of a trance as she clippered my bush down to a stubble."

'Sweet little pussy,' "she said, as she pulled my labia around and completed my depilation." 'And such a bold clitoris...'

"I blushed and tried hard to stop the vibrations of the clipper arousing me. When she'd finished, she opened sterile wipes and cleaned me. She then tore the end of a plastic pack with a long tube in it and poured some liquid in to coat the tube before inserting it into my pee hole. The tube diameter was much bigger than I expected, and it was uncomfortable. I yelped, and Melanie apologised, saying that she hadn't got the correct diameter tubes at home for someone as small and tight. She then used a small syringe filled with saline to inflate the balloon inside me and finally secured the plastic collection bag to the end of the tube and placed it alongside my thigh. The bag started to fill immediately. It was weird, I had no control..."

"Sounds awful," I said soothingly trying to be supportive.

"It was gross. Melanie told me not to bother with panties and just cover myself with a sheet. She then left me to it for a while, as she needed to go shopping.

I lay there and listened to the radio, read my book, and scrolled on my phone. As the afternoon wore on, I became bored. The pain killers took away the discomfort, and the bag by my thigh slowly filled up.

My fingers strayed down below a few times; I became fascinated by the fuzzy feel of my cropped pubes on my mons. I knew that touching myself with the catheter in was risky, and didn't want to get a UTI, but the fuzz drew my fingers.

Melanie came in to bring me tea and supper, change the bag and administer more pain killers.

She was very kind and gentle and I trusted her. She was nothing but professional when it came to handling my intimate areas.

On the Sunday, my wrist felt a little better. After breakfast Melanie removed the support and the dressings so the air could get to the grazes, then removed the catheter and washed my genitals before inserting a new one.

As she was leaving, she suggested that should I need the toilet, I should text her and she would come and help... the ultimate indignity."

"Oh God!"

"Fortunately, I didn't need to go... Sunday came and went, Melanie was attentive, but I still had many hours lying on the bed with nothing much to do.

On Monday morning Melanie woke me up quite early. She was in her work clothes. She attended to my grazes, took my wrist and ankle supports off and inspected the bruising which had now come out in a rainbow of purples and reds. She assured me that it was all perfectly normal and was pleased that the swelling had started to diminish. She then changed my catheter and washed my genitals again. During the night I had ovulated and there was discharge that she could not help but see and smell when she was washing me. She asked me, matter of factly, whether I was horny, and to my great shame I nodded.

She was reassuring and told me it was perfectly normal. She changed the catheter bag and explained that she would be back mid-morning with a bedpan so we could dispense with the catheter.

I was extremely happy when that took place."

'You still have not been to the toilet though Victoria,' "she said." 'I don't want you having constipation. If nothing has happened by the time I get back from work, I will have to give you a laxative.'

"She left me to my own devices for a few minutes, and I struggled off the bed and found some clean knickers. I was just manoeuvring myself back on to the bed, when she came back into the room with a couple of paperbacks and handed them to me."

'These might help you,' "she said, smiling, and handed them to me. The books were both written by a woman called Anais Nin. The name meant nothing to me and nor did the titles - Delta of Venus and The Little Birds.

I thanked her and put them on the nightstand.

Probably an hour later, having spoken to my boss and explained why I would not be in work, I picked up Delta of Venus. As you probably know, both books are erotica..."

"Yes, I've read them."

"You can probably guess what I did for most of that day. They engrossed me, aroused me, and I masturbated.

By the time Melanie came home, I'd finished both of them.

She emptied my bedpan, inspected my swollen limbs, removed the books, and then made supper.

On my tray with the Shepherd's Pie was a small yellow tablet and more painkillers and two more books, this time E L James."

'Take the tablet with your food. It should relieve your constipation, and don't overdo the reading. I don't want you getting an infection,' "she said, this time with a knowing wink.

The following morning, she was extremely surprised that the little tablet had not had the desired effect and pronounced more serious action was needed.

She went downstairs to fetch some things. Suffice it to say that she reappeared with a large bucket and a rubber enema bulb with a straight spout."

'On your hands and knees Victoria!'

"I struggled to do her bidding. My knickers were removed, and the smell of my over ripe pussy filled the air. I then felt some cool lotion being applied to my bum hole and then she pushed the spout in and emptied the contents into my bowels."

'There is glycerine and warm water in the enema I have just given you. I would imagine it will be effective fairly swiftly, so I'll leave you to it. Do try and get everything in the bucket won't you...'

"In a few minutes the cramping in my lower gut became intense, and the required result was achieved. The smells and sounds were foul.

Melanie came and removed the bucket, it was very humiliating, but at least it was over, or so I thought. She left me a flannel, some soap and water and a towel to clean myself up.

I did not see her for a few hours. When she next appeared to check on me, I was already halfway through 50 Shades...

She'd made me sandwiches and some coffee."

'I don't think that we got to the root of your problem earlier,' she said casually. I'm going to the shops to pick up a few items I need and then we'll try again.'

"I was slightly perplexed by what she said. My gut felt like it was back to normal, and the bloated feeling had passed. I waited with some trepidation for her return.

When she appeared, with two bulging red rubber enema bags and an array of tubing I was alarmed, until she reassured me the procedure was entirely straight forward."

'You need more enemas. The first one is soapy water to clean your colon out. I'll need you to hold it for at least twenty minutes, and then we'll rinse you out a couple of times.'

"It took an hour. There was excruciating pain from the cramps and blissful relief when I was allowed to let the contents out into the bucket. Melanie, lubricated me, filled me, massaged me and even held my buttocks apart when I released. I'd never been so humiliated, but when it was over and I was lying on my back as she gently massaged my tortured guts, I felt serene, like I was floating on a cloud of pleasure."

'I think we should give you enemas a couple of times per week for the next little while Victoria' she said. 'And I think you would look better if we shaved this stubble off.' as she ran her fingers through the bristly fuzz.

"That treatment was set for the following night. By then the swelling and bruising in my wrist and ankle were starting to subside and the wrist brace was dispensed with.

After three days of reading BDSM erotica and all the attentions I had received from Melanie, my head was full of the pleasures and occasional pain of submission. I was almost continually aroused and the orgasms I was giving myself longer lasting and more intense than anything I'd ever experienced with Helga. I felt. for the first time in my life, sexually satisfied...

With my legs splayed and Melanie giving a running commentary on how beautiful my body was, she removed the last vestiges of my pubic hair. The foam was cool, the blades well honed, and I was soon as smooth and hairless as I had been pre-puberty. Melanie applied soothing balms to the tender skin and around my membranes, arousing me still further. She cooed at how my clitoris was poking from its hood and could contain herself no longer. With dextrous fingers she started to massage it, and soon I had a huge orgasm which inevitably enticed me to caress and kiss her..."

The sun was by now off the patio. Victoria went and made a fresh pot of tea. I went to the loo and found unsurprisingly all the vivid talk had caused me to cream my knickers...

***

We settled down again, it was starting to get a bit dark, and I felt I was in danger of overstaying my welcome and said so.

"Don't be so silly. I'm enjoying your company and sharing my stories. Besides, I've put a Moussaka in the oven to warm up. There's plenty for two and too much for one."

"You're very kind, but I fear we have gone a long way off the track of Lauren and the spilt cup of coffee."

"But we will get to it sooner or later Jane. Even if you have to come back next weekend," she said grinning. Now where were we? Oh yes, the first time I had sex with Melanie...

I was still ragingly horny after she masturbated me to an orgasm, and I pulled her down on top of me. We kissed as I remember for a long time. The whole arrangement of bodies on the tiny bed with my braced ankle was ridiculous, almost comical, but we managed. Her breath was sweet and an intense kissing session something I was quite unused too. After a while she slipped her dress and underskirt off. Her undies were black and lacy and full cover which was in some ways more exciting than a demi cut bra and thong.

She lay back down beside me, so my left hand was free to roam. I reached inside her bra and found tiny nipples already hard as pebbles. I rubbed them between my fingers, and she sighed. Emboldened, I move my hand down her tummy, which had just the right amount of flesh, and under the waistband of her full panties to the heat below. A rich carpet of pubes greeted my fingers, but as I probed further, they fell away. Her sticky labia were shaved smooth, and her vagina open, and waiting.

My fingers were just exploring and starting to tease her button when her own hand covered mine."

'Like this,' "she said, and she moved my fingers in circles around the little button. I did as I was told and started the circular caresses. Her sighs became louder, and encouraged, I started to increase the speed of my attentions. After a while she moved positions so she could remove her panties and position herself to rub herself against my raised left knee. I ran my hand through her hair and caressed her neck; she loved that and told me to keep doing it. Back and forwards she went against my knee, the heat between us rising and making us both slick with sweat.

When she was getting close, she moved again and straddled my head. She was wet and wanton, her labia red and swollen and I simply mashed my mouth against her and licked her up and down.

She moaned and swore and after a while she started to buck against me. Her orgasm was heralded by a 'Yes, Yes, yes..." and she fell forwards against the wall behind the bed, my nose and tongue still jammed against her.

After a while she started on me again, and so it went on for an hour or so until we were exhausted.

That evening changed everything. I became one of her lovers. It wasn't an exclusive arrangement; there was also her girlfriend who she soon confessed to be Sonya the doctor who'd attended me on the day of my fall.

Melanie's influence on my life became more significant. It's hard to describe, you had to have been there. She didn't smother me, if anything she encouraged me to find a partner. She was generous and kind but wanted to mould me and shape me to her ways.

She gave her opinion about what she approved of about me and what she disapproved. One of the first things she did was to go through all my clothing and discard what she thought did not suit me. She ordered a few items online she felt I needed.

Underwear and new makeup were two of the first things she wanted me to change. She hated me wearing thongs or padded bras. She bought me full briefs, French knickers and camisoles and told me at some point she would take me to a corset maker.

Another early present was a lilac clitoral sucker. How she enjoyed showing me how to use it one afternoon when she got back from work. After my third orgasm, she took me to the bathroom and bathed me clean. I'd not been washed in a bath by another since I was a child and it was heaven.

She took my health and welfare extremely seriously. She booked me in to a well woman clinic for a smear test and an appointment with Sonya to look at my vaccination records and instruction on how to check my boobs for lumps.

Then it was my diet, and exercise regime. She monitored my weight and alcohol consumption, she wasn't intrusive about it or obsessive, and that was lovely. She just cared for me in a loving way I'd never known or imagined as possible.

One day she took me to a nail salon, another to the dentist, and yet another to a beauty salon. I enjoyed it all and after my pampering we would go home, and I would settle between her thighs and give her pleasure.

Sex between us was never boring or predictable. I was invited to share her bed, but we also had sex in every room of her house. Beside her bedroom was a small dressing room. In a wardrobe in the corner, she kept her collection of erotica, clothing and sex toys. She encouraged me to read and occasionally we would watch porn together. More often there would be a vibrator to try or her Sybian or American sex machine, with its wicked dildos and mighty piston. Melanie's appetite for sex was high but not as high as my own, so we would not make love every day.

She was well aware I was much younger and needed more than she did especially during my period or when I was ovulating. She had a mental diary of my cycle and acted to ensure I was always sated.

Often, after sex, she would cross examine me on what I liked or didn't. Quite early on I confessed how much I'd liked it when she had medically supervised me so that became a regular feature of our sex sessions. When I asked her whether she would spank or cane me though she was not at all keen. She disliked the whole concept of hurt through impact play. I would only ever get a friendly spank on my bum in the throes of lovemaking... never a roleplay with my bottom being beaten.

Inevitably, Sonya guessed that the nature of my relationship with Melanie was more than that of a caring landlady and tenant. She invited me to her surgery one Friday afternoon ostensibly to check my injuries.

After going through my notes and discussing my recovery from the injuries, she told me to undress so she could have a look at me.

I stripped off my sweater, blouse and jeans and lay on her couch in my underwear whilst she punched some data into her computer. Finally, she came over and standing over me with her hands in the pockets of her white coat told me to remove my bra and panties.

I did as I was bid and reclined back on the couch, nude. Sonya stood over me and looked at my body. She invited me to open my thighs, and slightly warily, I did. Melanie had insisted I remained completely shaved, so everything was on display.

Sonya then simply said 'mmph', turned away and went back to her desk. She then told. me I could get dressed again. She had not laid a finger on me.

I became suspicious that she had worked things out so dressed quickly and sat down in front of her with a 'is everything alright Doctor?'

She steepled her fingers looked me straight between the eyes and spoke.

'I wanted to see what Melanie found so attractive about you... Now that I've done that, I would like you to leave and as soon as possible move out from Melanie's home before you cause any more damage than you have done already.' She rose from her desk and left the room.

There was a tearful meeting with Melanie that evening. I agreed to move out immediately, even though the kitchen in this flat was not completely finished.

The following morning, I packed my things, and after we had finished our breakfast, we sat on the couch and talked.

I won't bore you with all the emotional stuff, there was quite a lot of that. She was as upset as I was you see... She was also overly concerned about my well-being and made me promise to be very careful about how I went about finding someone to replace her in my life, particularly as I had particular needs. It was that point she suggested I should contact Lauren Gittings..."

"What was so important about Lauren then?" I asked - feeling that at last we had got to the point of the overlong tale...

"Lauren runs a business, Jane. It's a slightly unusual business. It's not a dating agency and doesn't even have its own website. It's a sort of network for like-minded people to explore that she controls..."

"That sounds pretty suspect..."

"Well, it's not."

"Sara told me she ran a Recruitment Agency."

"She does."

"What you're talking about is part of that."

"No Jane, it's not. It's more of a hobby."

"I don't understand."

"Sorry I've not done a very good job of explaining things. Lauren knows a lot of people. Some she's met through work and some she's just got to know through life. She reads people very quickly and is rather good at matchmaking."

"So, it is a sort of dating agency," I said, mildly irritated by Victoria's vagueness.

"Call it that if you like," Victoria replied sighing.

"Well tell me what she did for you then. I assume you did contact her after you and Melanie parted company?"

"Yes, I did contact her, and she helped me a lot. She introduced me to my current partner; I owe her for doing that..."

"Hence her ability to get you to stalk me?"

"Exactly."

"But what were your special needs that would have made it so hard for you to meet someone yourself that Lauren could meet?"

"I'd have thought that after everything I've told you that would be obvious..."

"You mean your submissiveness?"

"Yes... Lauren knew a couple of people who she thought might find me attractive..."

"You mean Dominants."

"Yes."

The penny at last had dropped.

***

The evening was now cool. The daylight had long gone. We'd finished our Moussaka.

I knew that I really needed to go home to prepare for work the following day, but there was still a little more information I needed to understand.

Victoria made more coffee, and we retired to her small study. Her desk had a group of framed photographs on one side. Most were her family but there was one of a striking Asian woman playing a cello.

"Would that be your new partner then Victoria? The one Lauren introduced you to by any chance?"

"Very observant Jane. Yes, that's Kai. She's from Kyoto. We've been together for six months. She's on tour with the Orchestra at the moment. She gets back the day after tomorrow. I'm very excited she's coming home..."

There were things that sprung to mind that I wanted to ask Victoria about, but discretion fortunately got the better of me...

"Kai was the second person Lauren introduced me to after Melanie, and I parted. I'm devoted to her."

"How lovely."

"Rather than talking about Kai though Jane, I think I need to ask you what you want to do about Lauren...?"

"What do you mean?"

"She wants to see you. Do you want to see her?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think I understand whether she wants to see me because she wants to see me, or whether she wants to see me because she has some sort of matchmaking scheme in mind...."

"Well, there's only one way to find out isn't there?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right..."

"So...?"

"So - you can tell her I'll see her, but not before next weekend..."

To be continued...