I don't know why, but I'm slightly nervous this time as I ring the familiar doorbell of Miss Campbell's practice. Funny really, as I've been here so often it feels like a second home. It's Miss Campbell of course.
Her inviting eyes and gently prodding questions always make you tell everything that's bothering you, making her a confidante, a pal. And what her casual talk doesn't release, her hands do, either with a full massage or just a foot-reflexology. That has never failed to calm me down, soothing my swirling brain from whatever is haunting me at the time, stopping it tensioning my body.
Funny really, she is so close, and yet I still call her Miss Campbell, wouldn't even know her first name, wouldn't even think of asking. She mentioned it some time ago, I guess I just prefer to keep her Miss Campbell.
And yet, despite of her talents, something has come into my brain, into my system, that she has not been able to catch and release, and it stiffens up my muscles, my behaviour, sometimes both.
She thinks it has to do with Keith: "after 10 years of marriage there is bound to be some boredom".
I'm not sure, I think our marriage is still fine, we still enjoy each other and being together, if only something more happened in bed. Keith's career keeps him so busy these days, there's hardly time (or energy) left for anything erotic.
My consumption of batteries has gone up considerably, if that's any indication ...
So what else could it be then, quietly nagging away?
Last week, Miss Campbell seemed to have firmly made up her mind. "What you need, my girl, is a treatment from my business-partner". She had a partner?
"I only call upon him for selected customers, as his treatment is rather unusual, but very thorough. I'm sure you will be well served by it. I can not do what he does, you see, let's say because of my build" (she is not a big woman). She wouldn't say anything more, just made today's appointment and told me to trust her.
I feel an anxious butterfly in my belly as I go up the spiral stairs to her apartment, not unlike a little girl's excitement before entering the room with the Christmas gifts. Miss Campbell is waiting in the door opening as she always does, with an extra twinkle in her eyes. "Good to see you, my dear, always nice to have you."
She leads me to the practice, me being ever more curious who this partner might be. She must have read my mind, as she says from behind me "You won't see him directly, my dear, he likes to remain anonymous. It's part of his treatment, you see. Now hold still.".
With that, she suddenly ties a black ribbon across my eyes, and I find myself suddenly lost and slightly bewildered in an otherwise familiar environment.
What is this?
I hear her walking to the door, opening it, "you can come in now, she is ready". Somehow I feel a strong presence coming in, not sure if I hear him, or sense his movement on the carpet, I just know he is there. The blindfold is confusing, I notice the signals my other senses are sending me much stronger. Did she leave, or is she still there in a corner?
"Good morning", he says. Hmmm, a warm baritone voice, nice. "I'm so glad you could make it. First of all, I want to thank you for this opportunity to get to know you and also for your trust."
What, he thanks me?
"I understand you are nervous, and don't know what to expect. That's good, that is exactly the state of mind I need. What I am going to do will probably raise your eyebrows, but please let your curiosity and fantasy lead you. Just remember, you can always say stop if I cross any borderline."
While he speaks he circles me, and I can't get from the impression his eyes are scanning me. With the nice weather, I am wearing a thin and short summer dress designed to turn the occasional eye. Am I wrong or did he pause his movement while behind me, searching for the outline of my underwear? What I did put on this morning, a string or something bigger, white or coloured?
His voice and words comfort me, and the sensation of being 'blind' with a strange man watching me gives me small bubbles inside. I wonder what he looks like, his voice sounds like tall, bearded, dark, with soft grey eyes.....no, blue eyes.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"You choose one, whatever you think fits me and this situation."
I think for a second, waiting for a name to pop up. I feel like a damsel in distress, and he is going to help me fight that dragon in my mind. Lancelot, Valiant? Nah, too overdone....
"Okay then, Arthur, what is it you want me to do?".
"'Arthur', hmm, very well, mylady. For now, let me lead you to the massage table. As we go along, I will tell you what's ahead... or not, of course". As he starts speaking, he rests his hands on my shoulders, guiding me. I draw a sharp breath at the sudden touch out of nowhere, but follow him.
As his last words fade away, he starts unbuttoning my dress from behind.
I jerk up, suddenly infuriated yet also slightly anxious. This is turning out to be some strange treatment!
"Shh, no need to be scared, you would have had to undress anyway before going on the table." he says softly as he unashamedly (expertly too I must say) unbuttons my dress all the way down, then lets it drop to the floor. I realise I am standing half-naked and blindfolded before a man I don't know, whose intentions I know even less. It must be my faith in Miss Campbell that keeps me standing there.
I can feel him slowly and thoroughly watching my curves and lines from tip to toe and back, a small sigh escapes him. "Oh my, you really are blessed by Mother Nature, such nice forms, such nice shapes" he says.
I feel flattered, haven't heard such a compliment for a long time. Before I know it, I sway my hips for him a bit.
That must have broken his spell, for he gently pops my bra, releasing my 'boys' to the open air, then proceeds by pulling down my string (ah, yes, the velvet green one). It may sound crazy, but they way he does it I feel comfortable, as if I am guided by Arthur the Knight as we go on an adventure. I straighten my back, as if asking "what's next". The 'boys' must be thinking ahead even further, I feel my nipples getting hard.
He puts me down on the table on my stomach, and gently strokes me twice from head to toe. Normally Miss Campbell does this too, except then I'm covered under a blanket and in the presence of a woman of course.
I am about to think he simply has a kinky way of starting an otherwise straightforward massage when the baritone voice come in.
"Most people can not switch off their mind completely, they instinctively want to stay in control. A proper massage helps relaxing this instinct, but sometimes what is really needed is a little help from outside in switching off our sensors, switching off our means of control. What my preparation is doing, is focusing your mind and sensations by limiting the amount of input your mind receives."
As he speaks, he lays my arms along me on the table, putting my hands next to my thighs. With an expert ease, he ties something softly (silk? cotton? I can't tell) but firmly around my wrist, and the remainder of the cloth around my lower thigh, low enough for the tie to drag my arm down a bit. When the other arm is tied likewise, I can hardly move either of them, the bind is not too uncomfortable and politely present.
"Switching off indeed!" I think, trying gently how much freedom I have got left.
Meanwhile Arthur has done something likewise at my feet. With the same material he ties each ankle to a corner of the bed-table. As he spreads my legs open to tie down the second leg, I briefly feel fear at my exposed nakedness and helplessness, but my curiosity wins.
I know I can say 'stop' anytime, yet the adventurous excitement of lying fully naked, blind folded and tied face down, arms down on my belly before an unknown man with a soft and warm voice keeps my mouth shut. What is next? More ties? Hands?
Suddenly I realise there is moisture up between my legs, and it's not sweat.
Will he notice?
Should he notice? .......Do I ... want him to?
"For an even stronger effect of reduced senses, I could cover your ears and mouth, but that is better for later sessions. For now, I can see you are more then excited enough already, probably even tensed up, which is the opposite of what we want.
"As there is nothing you can do or see, just let yourself sink into the massage I am going to give you, undergo it and shut down the parts of your brain that otherwise would have been active monitoring me.", Arthur said.
As his words fade away in the darkness around me, I feel his hands make the familiar movements on my back of spreading the oil. He has the nice touch of warming it by firmly rubbing his hands before applying it.
My nose (or is it my brain?) tells me he is using the same oil as Miss Campbell uses, but somehow it feels as if there is pepper in it. As he starts working on my back (gently at first, slowly going deeper), there is an intense warmth sinking deep into my skin and muscles. The familiarity of the movement is relaxing, yet the excitement of the unknown ahead is making my muscles dance at his touch, electrifying me at every turn of his hands. As my body is charged, I slowly feel the tension eroding between my ears, as my mind loses track of all other things except his hands.
Arthur has a nice touch, firmer then Miss Campbell of course, but just firm enough. My mind starts thinking about him: who is he, where did he learn this, is this his normal job?
He takes his time for my shoulders, holding the shoulder cupped in one hand while the other outlines my shoulder blade with deep circular movements. I really love that, he must have known that or is simply very good. "I know what you are thinking and no, I was not briefed on what you like, I prefer to learn myself", he says, "Your shoulders are nice and strong, but you seem to stress them too much".
After my neck his hands rustle my hair and the skin on my head (hmmm, strong fingers, piano player perhaps?). The baritone voice comes softly into my ear: "As my hands and your body have to get to know each other, I may be using too much or too little pressure. Please tell me if the pressure is not as you like it".
Already I feel hopelessly helpless and hopelessly at ease in his hands, he could use any pressure he likes. I just murmur a soft "hm hm", as he moves to my legs. The left one comes first, and again he warms the oil before he applies it. In nice long strokes he moves from my ankle over the back of my legs all the way up to my buttock, which he squeezes a bit.
Whoops, that feels strange, normally they never get a massage.
As he moves down my leg again, one hand traces and works the outside curves, the other the inside. He is not shy: if it weren't for the oil on his hand, he could probably feel the moisture that has built up between my legs... or does he? He certainly comes close enough for it.
After a few of these movements, he changes direction: up my leg via the sides, down over the back. As he does, Arthur unashamedly touches my private area, giving it a small caress when there. I can't do anything, my legs are spread open for him, he has free access. The touch-and-go visits are strange yet pleasant, and suddenly I realise I unconsciously have raised my buttocks a bit up to meet his hands. This continues for a few strokes and I can tell now he is human after all: his breath is taking deeper strokes now, as we both realise, without words, some borderlines have been quietly moved, and we both know it.
The other leg, same ritual, and slowly his fingers move just that hair-length further, until he considers the legs complete and my buttocks need more attention. Slowly the massaging hands turn into caressing hands, I can feel he is enjoying them. I never thought much of my 'hams', they were just there. I have always been more focused on my 'boys up front' to attract men, but to Arthur 'the boys down below' seem to have a special interest. He squeezes, rolls, kneads, massages my butt like it has never before been touched before. It feels nice, special, new, it makes me swing my hips along with his movements.
Suddenly I can feel he is dripping oil between them. It oozes down towards my little knot-hole as he holds the 'softened up boys' apart. Just as the oil reaches that special opening, his hand reaches down and rubs it in, rubs around, and (quite easily) a finger rubs into me. An electric shudder flashes through my body, both shock and excitement. No-one has ever touched me there except myself while showering, and certainly nothing has entered it.
The shock contracts my muscles and he pauses, briefly. Then as one hand starts kneading my left bum, he softly says "As I said earlier: if what I do raises an eyebrow, let your feelings decide what path to follow, not your head".
I take a deep breathe and relax a little, his hands feel good, comfortable, as if they have always been there. I wish I could see the picture, me lying there tied down wearing nothing but a black ribbon and some perfume over my eyes, him standing there working my behind.
Slowly I let myself sink into the new sensation of his fingers down there (or actually, in there), not for a moment does the word 'stop' enter my mind. I want to wriggle, I want to spread my legs further, I want to put my hands to his, but I can do nothing, nothing but undergo the experience and sensations he is sending into me.
A light moan escapes me, and again.
I sigh and surrender whatever I had not yet surrendered.
Slowly he plays around, softening my resistance and my muscle tension. Electric pulses go from the new opening throughout my body and bounce back to my 'normal' love point, charging me electrically and at the same time melting any tension as butter in the sun. As I fantasise how Arthur might look, I feel I am getting more and more moist, heck no, dripping wet. He must have noticed by now, but is kind enough not to show he knows.
This is a dream I'm in, I think, my body is being loved with an intensity I had forgotten, if I ever had it this intense in the first place.
In a distant universe I hear something dropping on the floor, something like a cloth or so. He takes his loose hand away to support himself, and suddenly Arthur is on the table with me, on top of me, straddling me on my thighs, all the while playing around with his other hand.
It takes a few eternities to fully register but then surrender turns briefly into rebellion.
"Ssssshh" he says, "a new experience is about to unfold. Say 'stop' only when you really want to. Else, just let the flow carry you away."
For a brief moment I wonder, wonder what the hell I'm doing. My mind says I'm crazy, but its voice is in the far distance, the electric sparks which have been going back and forth throughout my body overwhelm it easily. I moan softly and relax. Well, sort of. I think I know now what is coming next.
I feel him leaning forward, his hand moves away and fumbles somewhere. Suddenly, something unmistakably touches my buttocks, swirls gently around. I feel its warmth, try to guess its shape and size as it slowly positions itself in between my buns just before the entrance. It waits, is then put firmly at the entrance.
My breathing becomes heavy, my entire world of observation is spotpointed on what normally is an exit, not an entry. So far it's o.k., the initial shock was when the hand came, now I'm prepared, or so I think.
Softly the push comes. I can feel it entering me and despite the earlier 'little visit' I gulp, hold my breath, tense my muscles.
Jeez, this is big, this will hurt!
He pauses, holding what I guess is the tip inside me. "It's alright, you're doing great. Take a deep breath, set yourself free, relax" the now familiar baritone voice says softly, close to my ear. I manage a deep breath, and slowly the tension goes away. He must have felt it, because immediately he enters me further, pauses, further, pauses, goes back, enters again.
I feel like being ripped apart, but the oil makes it all slide easily, and the totally new sensation of being taken from behind while firmly bound easily wins from the slight pain. As he starts moving in and out slowly, I get used to the feeling and start following the rhythm. A soft moan escapes my lips, and another one, and another one, with shorter intervals.
He does not waste much time and builds up tempo quickly, bumping his hips onto my buttocks ever stronger. They act like both a shock absorber and as a trampoline, a funny and pleasant combination. The preceding massage treatment has made the boys very awake and sensitive, and they sure like this new role of catching and bouncing Arthur. The sensations the boys give me are as strong (well, almost) as what happens in between them.
By now I have control again over my muscle and try to squeeze my visitor 'on the way in', about the only thing I can do, bound as I am. Arthur moans in surprise when I do that, and it excites both of us even more.
Just as I am getting close to that ultimate excitement, he suddenly stops while deep inside, winding down my momentum, takes a few deep breaths before building the pace again, slamming his hips into my buttocks.
Together we have quite a frantic pace, the table is making creaking noises.
He takes both of us up and down the mountain of pleasure this way, extending our unison to the max, until after several eternity’s his strokes become short and fierce.
By now I am full of electric charges and ready to blow my mind. I can feel his ball of fire building, exciting me even more. I try to meet his motions as much as possible, squeezing him now all the way when suddenly he gulps, tenses up, then lets out a deep cry from the bottom of his toes, his body in an electric spasm.
Oh my Goood, he is coming inside me, pumping slowly away, giving me that last sparkle I need until I too feel that wonderful fire exploding inside me, all over me, jilting me, arching my spine, sending fireworks to all corners of my body until.......
I feel like I'm dreaming, I still lie on the table and feel Arthur on top of me, still in me (is he?), with the last waves of excitement slowly ebbing away.
After an eternity or two he stands up, unties my ankles, slowly turns me around on my back, then respreads and reties my feet to the table. I couldn't care, I am totally limp in his hands, breathing deeply.
He starts massaging my shoulders and neck, gently caressing my face on the way. I only notice half of it, the other half of my mind is still floating somewhere.
I guess he did the rest of my body too when I notice he is at my feet. Did I dream or did he massage my breasts and belly as well? No one ever did that together.
After my feet, he moves up my legs again, this time from the front. I know what to expect now, and as Arthur comes up the second time, I raise my hips to meet him.
His hands swirls around my hair, digging, playing.
Then the playing becomes real, as the movements starts to concentrate expertly on that unique little button.
Oooh, and does he know his stuff !
With different speeds and circles he carries me up the mountain several times, stopping just short of the peak before retreating and going back up another route.
By now I have totally lost track of all time and space, I am in heaven and my private harp is played to wonderful symphonies. I moan, take deep breaths by gulps, try to survive all this electric power.
Then, the hand quickens his pace and I can't follow anymore, I'm dragged and carried up the mountain of ecstasy, until another fireworks display, volcano eruption and .....
When I regain consciousness, my body has this wonderful mixture of being weightless and super-heavy at the same time.
I try to see but can't. It takes a while for it to come back, the long table, the blindfold, the ties.
I struggle a bit and I feel something warm all over me, with a strange moving pressure. It takes a while to realise I am under a blanket, tugged in very tightly, and Arthur is gently stroking me from head to toe.
"Hello", he says softly and slowly, "welcome back to Planet Earth. Take your time in landing". He stops stroking and gently unties my hands. Only now I notice my movements have drawn the knots tightly.
"I am afraid this takes us to the end of our little time together. Thank you very, very much, I have been honoured with the trust you gave me. I hope my .. eh... treatment gave you what you needed and I would be pleased to see you again some day.
There is a glass of water on your left, please drink before you go. Take your time as you like before leaving. All the best, My dear Lady, until we meet again!"
With that, I feel a soft kiss on my forehead and hear him, no, feel him walking away.
"Arthur" I mumble softly, "That was sooo great, thank you ever so much"
I believe he smiles, and with a "You're very welcome" he closes the door.
I sigh, and enjoy the fire burning softly up between my legs, both front and back as I am riding soft waves in my mind.
That night Keith didn't know what hit him, nor the nights after...
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22.10.10 | updated - 06.05.17