Isabella Gets Her Due, Part II

Authors note: This story makes no sense and will have no zing unless you read the first part. This part is somewhat more in keeping with the spirit of Altar Boys site, than was the hard s&m first part. Any comments are most appreciated. Niki.

Well all of that was in the past. Carl and Gina in the recent past. The initial enslavement of Caroline more than two years ago. Today I am rather bored. Torturing Caroline, Torturing and humiliating Gina and Carl, having my pleasure slut Lisa attend me, picking up random strangers and subjugating them doesn't seem to have quite the old zest. At least not today. Perhaps a bit of shopping might lighten my ennui. I just love exotic and expensive clothes and there is rumoured to be a great new shop in the city. I have my driver go to the address and enter a fairyland of expensive, sexy and chic outfits, displayed in their most promising outlook. Glorious colors, masterful designs and sensuous fabrics greet my gaze and my touch. My ennui evaporates.

Most of the clothes are, of course, much too small for me, but look, over there, a whole section of Goddess-sized outfits. The sales clerk in that section is strangely alluring. She helps me with a number of my selections. My eyes lock with hers for an instant. I want her badly. Casually I let my breasts rub against her shoulder. She looks at me quizically. "Why don't you come to my mansion tonite, we can have a little fun." I say in my huskiest and most flirtatious voice. "Oh, perhaps some other time, I am quite busy right now," comes her astonishing reply.

"What's that?" I think, "perhaps she misunderstood." "Excuse me honey, but I just invited you to visit me, you can't possibly be thinking of refusing me, can you?" I ask the very calm and composed looking young woman who is heating up my pussy with just her presence.

"Oh its not so hard to refuse you if one knows just how to do it." Came her weirdly knowing rejoinder.

I purchase a few outfits in a fugue of astonishment. This is unheard of. Not only do I want this woman in the worst way, but she seems indifferent to me. NO ONE, over the age of fifteen or sixteen is indifferent to me. No one. I run out of the store in a swirl of anxiety and make my way home.

I am in a stew. Angry. Confused. I torment my slaves, have my pleasure sluts attend me but it all seems behind a gauzy wall. Not only that but I am starting to detect a small but noticeable air of rebellion, or at least of reluctance. Gina, for example, seems on the verge of refusing me when I order her to go on a topless treasure hunt through some of our downtowns seediest stores. Lisa, slightly distracted when she licks my clit. Everyone but Caroline seems a bit less, I don't know, I bit less enslaved by my glamour.

It is now a week later. I return to the store. I am in a state of anxiety that the clerk will be gone. Phew. There she is, the sales clerk in the Goddess section. The woman I want more than I have ever wanted anyone. I try to start over with her in a less arrogant way - maybe my glamour doesn't work on her, but I know I am an extremely sexy woman. I start a conversation, learn that her name is Ariel. Learn she is nineteen years old. Learn that her father owns the store. Tremulouosly I ask her out to dinner, feeling like a geeky highschool boy asking the class babe out to the prom. "Well, Isabella, I think I might at that. Will you take me to Lucerne's (the most chic chic restaurant in our city)? Say on Teusday (five days from now)" "Of course." I reply, heaving a huge inner sigh of relief. "Oh," she says, "and by the way, I would appreciate it if you would refrain from having any sex between now and then." My mind screams "What the fuck" but I seem compelled to reply "Of course, Ariel, your wish is my command."

I can't believe this. Somehow I understand that if I allow myself even one orgasm Ariel will know and dismiss me from her life. I cannot remember the last time I went five waking hours without some sex, five days seems impossible. I get my trainer to come over and I start a marathon workout regime. Perhaps if I spend every second in my gym furiously pushing at the weights and the aerobics it wont be so bad. Yes. Yes. For two days the exhaustion and the difficulty of keeping it going help. I am only tormented in the evening, during the painful interlude between getting into bed and actually falling asleep. But now it is the third day and nothing is helping. My pussy burns horribly. The day is passing with exquisite slowness. I can't stand this. Now it is nighttime, I can't really sleep. My tortured thoughts are filled with Ariel. Filled with fantasies about what will happen when I finally meet her again. The fourth day is worse. Each second drips by in agonizing slowness - each instant distinctly etched in my mind. Sleep is out of the question - I spend the night in a fever of despair and desire.

Finally Teusday dawns. I spend the entire day getting ready for the evening. I am bursting with excitement and impatience. I can barely control my limbs. I dress in this gorgeous, noback hand-made sequinned white evening gown, scooped low down on my breasts which are practically falling out of it. I pace about for hours. Rehearsing how I will play the scene. Finally the time comes. My driver takes me to Lucerne's. The ride seems infinitely long, like achilles and the tortoise we keep halving the distance but never quite getting there. At last we arrive. I get out and enter the fabulous establishment. Every head in the place turns to stare. The Maitres-Des approaches. "Ah, you must be Isabella." He hands me an envelope. It is a note from Ariel. "Sorry, can't make it tonite - see you same time and place on Thursday. And remember, no sex."

I am trembling with frustration, visibly enough that the snooty little maitres-des notices. I feel like taking him home and whipping him to death. I wonder if that would count as sex. I stalk out of Lucerne's. There is nothing in my world but the unextinguishable fire in my loins. Every second seems like a century. The time passes, I don't know how, there is nothing I can do to make the wait bearable.

Finally it is Thursday. I dress in red. A dress that just covers my panties. The upper portion is almost transparent and my red lacy bra is visible from some angles. My red nylon hose end way below the top of the dress. The red garters that hold them up are plainly visible. My red heels are over five inches high. I have on a red, patent leather choker. The outfit screams slut. And submissive slut at that. I look pretty out of place for Lucerne's clientelle of middle-aged movers and shakers. And being around 6'8" tall in my heels, dressed in bright red, there isn't a soul in the place who doesn't know it. The same maitres-des greets me. This time with a noticeable little sneer. Yes, I think I will take him home and whip him, not quite to death, I want him to be around the next time I walk into his restaurant.

After an agonizing twenty minutes Ariel arrives. She is dressed in a plain blue cotton frock with sensible shoes and a little fake pearl necklace. I have a few objective seconds to notice that Ariel is only moderately pretty - she is a natural blonde with blue eyes and a decent, if ordinary body. "Well, you look quite the slut", she starts off." "And I can tell that you have obeyed my orders. Your pussy is quite on fire, is it not?"

"Yes, Ariel, my pussy is burning up. I can think of nothing but getting it some relief."

Ariel just laughs at this, a little tinkly laugh, barely audible. "Why don't you get up and let me have a good look at you." I comply. "Turn around, let me see your behind." I turn, the dress is so tight it is practically plastered to my ass whose every delicious curve is highlighted. Why don't you do some jumping jacks for me - I bet your tits will bounce nicely, even in your bra. I can't believe this. Jumping jacks in the middle of Lucerne's, in this slut red dress. Not like everyone isn't looking at me anyway. This is too humiliating. But strangely compelling, arousing. Ariel is, she is, she is, well so powerful in the most quiet and casual way. I have to obey. I start doing jumping jacks in my tight red dress and my five inch heels. The place is utterly silent as the entire restaurant stares in awe. After a dozen or so jumping jacks Ariel stops me.

"You know that's kind of nice, but I think it would be more fun without your bra - why don't you go to the bathroom and remove it."

This is too much, no matter how aroused I am. "Please Ariel, don't make me do that, not here, not in front of all these people. I would be happy to do this for you in private. Please don't make me do this here."

"Isabella, here is your first rule. When you beg you do so on your knees if you are able to reach that position and you tell me precisely what it is you are begging for. Sometimes I will even grant your prayers." She says, still in an utterly calm and conversational voice.

"Yes, Ariel" I say, getting on my knees. "Please, oh please don't make me take off my bra and do jumping jacks here in front of everyone at Lucerne's. Please. I am begging you to have mercy on me."

"That was nice, but I'm afraid you still have to do it. Off you go." She says brightly as I get up and make my way to the ladies room, every eye in the place upon me.

I do the deed, remove my bra. When I hitch up the top part of my dress, my tits are plainly visible through the translucent red fabric. They look like they are encased in red cellophane. I draw my shoulders back and strut to my table, staring straight ahead. When I get to the table a handsome young gentleman is sitting in my seat. I wait a moment.

"Well Isabella, what are you waiting for - you are to do jumping jacks until I tell you to stop."

I can't believe this. It is just getting worse and worse. I begin. "Isabella - I want you to do them right - I want you to jump as high as you can and thrust your arms together over your head while you thrust your legs apart. Believe me, you will be very sorry if you do not satisfy me."

So I begin again. Doing perfect form jumping jacks in my slut red dress, the skirt gradually riding higher and higher up my ass. I am forbidden to touch it. My huge tits are bouncing about, plainly visible. I am ordered to slowly circle. I keep this up for almost forty five minutes, while Ariel and the gentleman order dinner, while the waiter serves them, while everyone in the place is laughing at me, while my body turns and remains the deepest crimson red of humiliation, til my skin and my dress are practically the same shade.

After the food is served, Ariel bades me to stop. I am now to get down under the table and give her a toe sucking while she enjoys her dinner. She asks the gentleman if he would like his toes sucked as well. Of course he is only too eager to agree. So they gab away and eat a fabulous meal while I am under the table sucking on their toes, my pussy growing hotter and hotter.

Finally the meal is done. Ariel and the gentleman leave together. With my bra. I am left under the table. With the check.

I leave the restaurant. Get in my car. Get driven home. String Caroline up by her toes and whip her half to death. Then have her lick my pussy for hours. Somehow, despite all the deprivation its not very much fun. I have a few orgasms but it doesn't really excite me. All I want is Ariel.

The next day I make my way downtown. To the shop. There is Ariel. I walk into her section. She gives me a small smile. I am at loss for words. She makes my knees feel like water, I just want to kiss her, hold her, make love with her. "Isabella," she says, "I am tired of taking the bus back to my grungy little apartment. Why don't you lend me your limo and your driver for awhile. I think you could do with some walking." And she dismisses me, just like that. After our scene last nite, this is all she has to say to me. I give my chauffer his new instructions and begin the long walk home to my mansion.

A week passes. Most of the people I have subjugated, with the exception of Caroline, seem less and less subjugated. Gina is not returning phone calls. Lisa has gone on "an extended vacation". Caroline, of course, is enslaved by fear, not passion, so she still does what I want. I grow increasingly strict with her. But it doesn't help. It doesn't turn me on to torture her for small infractions. It hardly turns me on at all to have her supple and skilled tongue work on my clit. The truth is my life seems ruined. I pace the streets of the city. I hardly sleep. Nothing has much taste.

Yet. And yet. There is a desire, a passion, an intensity inside me beyond what I have known before. I can't help it. One day I wander into Ariel's shop. She isn't there. I almost scream with frustration. Ariel's father is around. He tells me that Ariel is on vacation, with my chauffer and my car, thank you ever so much. She should return in a week or two. In the mean time he has me clean the entire store, dressed only in white bikini panties. It's good for business he says. If I do a perfect job he will give me my clothes back before I leave. I comply, compelled by this middle aged man, though not as passionately compelled as by his daughter. I scrub and polish every surface and fixture in the extensive store, mostly on my hands and knees. Customer's point and stare. In fact traffic seems to increase throughout the day til the place is absolutely jumping. Finally it is closing time. I am complimented on a job well done, given my clothes and dismissed.

A few days later I get a phone call from Ariel. She is in the Caymen Islands, relaxing on the beach. She will be home in about two weeks. "So, Isabella, I was thinking of coming to visit you when I get back to the city. Would you like that?" she asks.

"Oh Ariel, I would like that more than anything. I can't wait." I answer

"You know of course that you will have to refrain from sex until I see you?"

"Yes of course, Ariel, whatever you say."

Two torturous weeks pass. They seem longer than all of the rest of my twenty six years put together. I am in a living hell. A burning hell of desire that knows no quenching. I can't do anything but watch the instants pass by, one, by painful one.

It all becomes a fever dream. An endless fever dream of pain and desire. One day, who knows how long it has been. There is a knock. I answer the door, all my servants departed. It is Ariel. She has a companion. It is Gina. Remember Gina. With her chastity belt. That Gina. Oh my. I am in for it. I know. It will be worse than I thought, far worse than anything I have ever experienced. But somehow it will be all right because Ariel is present.

Gina and Ariel bind me to my bed. Lightly, almost playfully. Then they get to work on me with a feather. Up and down my helplessly bound and straining body. Oh, God, it has been two weeks since I have had any sexual relief. My brain is just one hot mass of desire. Yes, I am in hell. A burning, hell of desire. My pussy, so painfully swollen and sore with frustration that I cant stand it one more second.

Please, oh please touch my pussy. Please. PLEASE. PLEASE!!!!!!. Oh yes they do. Oh does it feel great. Oh God I am goint to cum. It will be the best ever. To feel that relief. A few more light caresses with the feather. Oh yes. Oh yes. OH YES!!!!!. Oh no. Ariel holds the feather just above my pussy. I arch my body, upward, straining against my bonds. Jiggling up and down in a frenzy. A spasm. On the verge of tearing my muscles. I bounce up and down hoping to just touch that feather at the top of my spasming. There. Just. I can just feel the feather. It is so delicious - if only I can press just a little more I can rub against it and relieve the hell of burning frustration - there, oh, she has mercy, she lowers the feather a fraction, now I am grinding on it just there, oh god no she lifts it a bit higher.

Hours and hours of this. I am in a frenzy. Such a frenzy of frustration as no one has known since the world began. I CANT STAND IT. I HAVE TO CUM. I WILL, Ariel or no, as soon as my arms are released. It is just too much. But, oh god no. The belt. Gina has found a chastity belt for me. It is an evil belt. It has a clit clip inside. Not only will I be unable to achieve orgasm but my clit will be in constant pain.

NO NO NO - they can't do this to me. They wont. Don't they understand. I am not a normal woman. I must have sex. Must. Must. Must. I will truly go mad. NO. Please. No. But no one has mercy. They put me in tight strict bondage. I cant move a fucking muscle. They put the clip on my clit. I scream and scream and scream. Then they lock me in. Then Gina leaves with the key. Then Ariel releases me. I want to kill her. I am in writhing, twisting, sweating screaming agony. There is no relief for me. And now, in this state of supreme agony, I finally get to make love to Ariel. To lick her clit. To listen to her slight little groans as she has a modest little orgasm. She thanks me and bids me adieu.

I am stunned by the turn of events. I am belted and clit clipped. I am on the verge of real madness and hysteria. And there is not one fucking thing I can do about it.

The end....

PostScript:

The Isabella, seen above with Ariel, who inspired this story was first seen by me at Cdgirls.com where, (I think) you can still download some free videos of her masturbating on an orgasmatron. The great video of Isabella sucking Ariel's toes that was the real inspiration of this story can only be downloaded after you pay them. However, for a buck, there is now a high qualtiy 90 second video of Isabella, in chains, playing with herself, available at bdvideo.com

nikinemesis@yahoo.com

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Page last updated 01-Apr-21 by: Altairboy@aol.com