Read Online Perfect Slave by Becky Bell - Free Book Online

away from the steel collar, but the bonds gave not an inch. The feeling thrilled her. Stretched spread-eagled across her bed, though three of her limbs had been secured, there was always the fourth. She had the impression of being tightly bound but not the substance. She could always free herself. Now she did not have that option.
    Laurie had taken another item from the bag. It was a black leather helmet with a crisscross of laces at the back. She quickly wound Andrea’s hair into a simple ponytail, then pulled the helmet down over her head, looping the hair through a hole just above where the lacing began. There was a small hole in the front of the helmet that fitted over her nostrils, three larger ovals for the eyes and the mouth. The brunette began to pull the laces tight, until Andrea could feel the soft leather moulding itself to the contours of her face like a second skin.
    â€˜Sit back up here,’ Laurie said.
    Andrea moved to obey. Without thinking she tried to extend her hands to balance herself, and the fact that they were jerked back firmly against the rope gave another twist to her spiral of excitement. She managed to squirm up onto the leather seat, but without her arms for support could not prevent herself falling back against it heavily. She was very excited. She was wriggling her buttocks against the leather almost subconsciously, and could feel a slick of wetness on her labia.
    She glanced out of the window and realised the car had taken a different route from the last time, and was not going south to the embankment but west along the Euston Road.
    â€˜Where are we going?’ she asked, forgetting herself for a moment.
    â€˜You will learn not to speak unless you are spoken to,’ Laurie snapped. She slapped her hand down hard on Andrea’s thigh, making her yelp. The noise attracted the driver’s attention. She saw his eyes examining her in the rear-view mirror.
    Laurie took a pair of red leather high-heels from the holdall. She bent forward and fitted them onto Andrea’s feet. They had an ankle strap, which she buckled tightly.
    â€˜Nearly done,’ she said.
    She turned to face Andrea, bringing herself to within inches of her face. ‘You love it, don’t you?’
    There was no point in lying. Andrea’s whole body was throbbing with some very familiar sensations, intensified by a whole set of very new ones. ‘Yes, Ms Angelis,’ she said softly. Their mouths were no more than six inches apart and she couldn’t help imagining how it would feel to kiss those fleshy lips and feel that pliant mouth crushed against hers. The thought created another jolt of pleasure.
    Laurie raised her hand and stroked Andrea’s leather-covered cheek.
    â€˜Close your eyes,’ she said.
    Andrea did as she was told. In the darkness she heard the noise of two short zips being pulled and felt tightness over her eyelids. The oval eyeholes had been closed. She opened her eyes tentatively, but the darkness was complete.
    She felt Laurie moving slightly on the seat next to her. She heard a clink of a glass. Then the weight beside her shifted again. Laurie was having a drink. They seemed to have escaped the worst of the traffic now and the car’s forward progress was less halting. Its smooth suspension and quiet engine were soporific. Andrea inhaled the pungent smell of leather. It reminded her of last Saturday night. That had been the most exciting experience of her life, but it was only the beginning. What had happened to her already today was so far beyond anything she could have imagined that it left her in little doubt that Charles Hawksworth’s ‘training’ was going to be a monumental voyage of self-discovery.
    In the blackness behind the blindfold she could see herself, sitting with her hands tied in an attitude of prayer, her forearms resting against her breasts, the tight red basque cinched around her body, the suspenders pulling the stocking tops