Caught in a Trap

The sitting room was probably big enough to fit Joanne's entire apartment into it without touching the sides, but it still felt like a cage to her. She paced its length, one step for each tick of the obnoxiously loud grandfather clock on the east wall, reminding herself again and again that the only thing she could do right now was wait.

Because all the other plans were crazy. She couldn't go to the police; she didn't have anything even approaching the kind of proof that could get them through the door. She couldn't just search the house; Natalya Sokoloff had the kind of mansion that probably had its own zip code. It would take days to go room-by-room, assuming the household staff would let her do such a thing. And she'd already given up on trying to contact Cici directly. Her phone had gone straight to voicemail for about a week now.

No, if she wanted to talk to her friend, she needed to go through Natalya. And that meant cooling her heels in the sitting room (one of the sitting rooms, more like) and waiting. Joanne just hoped that the maid hadn't forgotten where she'd left the new guest.

Twenty minutes later--one thousand, two hundred steps back and forth across the thick red carpet--Joanne finally heard the key in the lock once more. She spun to face it as it opened to reveal the maid again. "Mistress Natalya is here to see you," she announced in a thick Russian accent before stepping aside to allow her employer to step past her into the room.

She looked exactly like her photos--chestnut brown hair done up in an elaborate French twist that accentuated the curve of her neck, eyes so dark that it was difficult to tell where the pupil ended and the deep brown irises began, slightly bronzed skin that set off her trademark pearls. She was dressed a bit more casually than on the magazine covers, just a white house dress with a long red sash, but that was the only difference. It was the kind of effortless beauty that was only attained with great effort.

Joanne struggled not to feel frumpy by contrast. She knew that her black locks were cut in a thirty dollar bob and she wore a dress she'd designed three years ago, but she liked to believe that she wore it well. Still, standing across from an honest-to-god billionaire fashion magnate made it hard not to feel insignificant. She wondered if Cici had felt the same, and if Natalya had used that against her.

"Hello, Joanne," Natalya said, striding into the room like it was a runway. "It was so good of you to come and see me like this on such short notice." Her voice sounded like plum pudding, rich and thick and more than a little overpowering. Her Russian accent was fading a little, but it remained almost as strong as the maid's.

"I didn't come here to see you," Joanne said, not caring if she sounded rude. She didn't want to make an enemy of Natalya--struggling independent designers couldn't afford to cross one of the biggest fashion houses on two continents--but she wanted to keep the other woman at arm's length from the beginning. "I came here to see Cici."

"Oh, yes, Cici," Natalya said, her face brightening into a dazzling smile. "Such a darling girl, don't you think? We've already become such fast friends." The smile faded into calculated confusion. "I'm sorry--you thought she was here?"

Joanne kept her mouth set in a firm line. "Are you going to try to pretend she's not? We both know that you were seen with her at the Marquis Club last week, and that the two of you left together. She hasn't been to her classes or back to her apartment since, and nobody's been able to reach her by phone. I spoke with her professor, and he said you'd arranged for Cici to do some 'independent study' with you. I don't know what she's studying, but I'm quite sure she's studying it here."

For just a fraction of an instant, Joanne saw the calculating look cross Natalya's face. It was gone almost before it could register as anything more than a subliminal impression, but she knew it was there. "Cici, of course," Natalya said, as though she hadn't tried to suggest anything else. "She's resting up a bit at the moment, I'm afraid we had something of a late night. She'll be joining us momentarily." She gestured to a pair of chairs set across from each other. "Shall we sit and chat while we wait?"

Warily, Joanne took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs. She didn't want to make it seem like she was...doing what she was told...but she also didn't want to seem too hostile. Natalya held too many of the cards right now. "Do you know how long she'll be?" she asked, glancing at the grandfather clock.

Natalya sat down in the other chair, smiling a cat's smile and absently fiddling with one of her pearl earrings. "It could be a little while," she said. "I'm afraid the poor girl might be a bit...exhausted." The tone of her voice left no doubt in Joanne's mind as to exactly what--and who--exhausted Cici last night.

Joanne tried to respond with nothing more than a noncommittal grunt, not wanting to engage with the other woman at all. But Natalya continued talking, as though determined to draw out a response. "I will admit, I have enjoyed Cici's company far more than I expected to when we first met. Not that I expected to dislike her, but she's such an enthusiastic young thing! I can understand completely how the two of you became so close."

Natalya continued to play with her earring as she spoke, running her finger over it and setting it swaying ever so slightly. Joanne tried to look anywhere else. "Of course we both know that it was really you that I wanted to see, Joanne. Cici is a lovely girl, and I'm quite happy we've...gotten to know each other." Again the pause hinted at a very different kind of knowledge than Cici was gaining in school, or as Joanne's intern. "But you're my real interest."

Inwardly, Joanne felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as all her worst fears were confirmed. Outwardly, though, she simply made another vague noise that expressed nothing beyond noting that Natalya had spoken. She tried to fix her eyes on the corner of the room, tried to ignore the steady tick of the clock on the wall. She wanted to get up and pace again, but at the same time she didn't want to do anything that would give Natalya cause to throw her out without Cici.

"I know, you will think me a trifle manipulative," Natalya said with a disarming gesture, one that had the side benefit of drawing Joanne's eyes back to her hands. The same hands that returned to playing with her pearls. "But I've been wanting to meet with you for so long, Joanne. And you are such a busy person! Why, anyone would think that you were avoiding me."

Joanne tried to keep the noise neutral and noncommittal again, but she was aware that she failed pretty badly at it. She felt the silence stretching out into an awkward pause, and finally she had to break it. "It's nothing personal," she said, trying to sound dismissive instead of sheepish. She wasn't actually all that good at being rude to people. "It's just that you have something of a--" She knew she was blushing, but she didn't know how to stop. "A reputation," she finished weakly.

Natalya's smile widened from a cat's smirk to a lion's grin. She leaned forward in her seat, setting the pearl earrings into motion again, and said, "Do I really? You'll have to excuse my interest, dear. I'm afraid that one of the worst things about having people talk about you behind your back is that you so rarely get to find out what they're saying. Please. Tell me what my dreaded reputation is."

Joanne squirmed just a little under the intensity of Natalya's stare. She reminded herself again not to look at the other woman's eyes, or her earrings, or her breasts, or anywhere for too long. "They say, um..." She swallowed a little harder than normal. "They say you have a way of convincing people to do things, to sign deals that aren't..." Joanne froze, trying to find a way to say it that wouldn't get her kicked out. "That aren't always in their best interest."

Natalya laughed. "I prefer to believe that I provide them with...intangible compensation, darling," she replied. She shifted in her seat, causing her pearl earrings to catch Joanne's attention all over again as they dangled at the end of their silver hooks. Joanne had never seen pearls that big before. "I don't think you'll find that my business partners are unhappy."

"No, that's the other thing," Joanne said, forcing herself to stare down at her own fingernails. "They say you're not above using your personal charm to convince designers to come work for you." Joanne knew as well as Natalya did what she was implying, and she tried very hard to avoid making even a word of it sound anything less than squeaky clean. "They say that people wind up forming very rapid attachments to you. Sometimes unhealthy ones."

"That I wrap them around my little finger?" Natalya asked, running her little finger around one of her milky, lustrous pearls. "Use my feminine wiles on them, mesmerize them with my animal magnetism, that sort of thing?"

"Um..." Joanne suddenly realized how silly it all sounded when she heard it coming from Natalya's own lips, but that was exactly what they said. The fashion industry ran on gossip, and Joanne had sat in on enough catty late-night drinking sessions with her fellow designers that she knew all the rumors by heart. The one about the Parisian buyer who 'bumped into' Natalya Sokoloff at a restaurant and spent the whole evening staring at Natalya's pearl earrings, not saying a word. The one about the Milanese illustrator whose only explanation for taking a pay cut to work for Natalya was a vacant grin and a blank stare. It all sounded a lot more reasonable at 2 AM after a few Cosmos.

"Oh, my!" Natalya said, trying and failing to stifle her laughter. "It is, isn't it? That's why you were keeping yourself hidden away! You thought I was going to hypnotize you with my pretty pearls and make you fall in love with me!" She was cackling now, an undignified laugh that sounded completely out of place coming from such an elegant mouth.

The laughter finally subsided into giggles, and then to sighs. "But even when you thought this was some kind of trap," Natalya said, suddenly sounding thoughtful, "you still came here. For your friend Cici. You must care about her very much."

Joanne nodded, feeling her blush burn her whole face. "I do," she said. There was nothing more to say--she'd known Cici less than a year, but she already cared about the young woman far more than she had a right to. She'd never told Cici just how much--she wasn't sure if the other woman was even a lesbian, let alone whether she wanted a relationship with someone twelve years older than her--but when she thought Cici was in danger, she came here regardless of the consequences.

"Your feelings for her must be very strong," Natalya said, fixing Joanne with an almost obscenely direct stare. "I understand perfectly, she's a very beautiful girl. She has such pretty eyes, so bright and sparkling. Such a beautiful mouth, curved in that perfect Cupid's bow. They're perfect for kissing, those lips. You could imagine them kissing you for hours, all over until your whole body shakes with the pleasure of it."

Joanne shifted in her chair slightly, trying to pretend she wasn't thinking about exactly that. "Um, Cici," she said, hearing a touch of arousal in her voice and hoping Natalya couldn't hear it too. "Could you maybe send someone to check on her?"

"Oh, I'm sure she'll be here any second," Natalya said, her hands once again toying absently with her earrings as she spoke. "She talked to me about you, by the way. Between you and me..." Natalya favored Joanne with a sly smile. "She's had a fantasy about the two of you ever since you first met."

Joanne's eyes widened in alarm. Not so much because Natalya was apparently betraying the young woman's confidence, she was ashamed to admit, but because Joanne knew she couldn't hide her desire to hear all about it. She felt suddenly vulnerable, as though Natalya had found a gap in her defenses that the other woman was eager to exploit.

But that was silly, wasn't it? Hadn't Natalya laughed at how silly it was?

"She told me all about it," Natalya said, leaning in so close that Joanne could smell her perfume. "She's been thinking about it for ages, every night while she plays with her pretty pussy. She imagines the two of you, working late at night together--you've finished a pretty dress, and she offers to model it for you. She slips off her clothing, because it's just you girls there, but you can't take your eyes off her body."

Joanne nodded, feeling the heat in her cheeks joined by an entirely different kind of heat between her legs. Natalya's eyes sparkled with arousal as well, a conspiracy of desire, and Joanne felt unable to meet the naked heat in the other woman's gaze. When Natalya's fingers set the pearl earring into motion again, Joanne almost whimpered in gratitude at the excuse to look away.

"She puts on the dress, but there's a mistake," Natalya continued, timing the sway of the shimmering pearl to the tick of the clock. "You've done something wrong, the hemline is far too high. Her pussy is right there for you to see. To stare at. To get lost in, Joanne."

Joanne's eyes followed the motion of the milky pearl as it swayed, but she wasn't really seeing it at all. She was imagining Cici, standing there in front of Joanne naked from the waist down, her pussy glistening with moisture that she could no longer hide. Joanne licked her lips unconsciously as her arousal continued to build.

"But it's when she pulls it all the way on that she realizes what you've done," Natalya said, her voice now barely above a sensual whisper. "The sleeves join at the wrists, the neck is sewn shut. She can't take it back off, she can't see, she can barely even move. She's helpless, Joanne. Doesn't that sound so sexy? You can imagine how good it feels for her, being helpless like that."

"Uh-huh," Joanne whimpered, barely even realizing she was saying it. She was openly squirming in her chair now, rubbing her legs together and luxuriating in each burst of pleasure coming from her pussy. Her eyes were locked onto Natalya's pearl, drawn automatically to its smooth and silky luster as it moved back and forth, but her mind was focused on the picture Natalya was painting with her words.

"And that's when she realizes that you planned all this, that you want her so bad that you can't think of anything else. The only thing you can think about is her beautiful body, her sensual curves, pleasing her with your hands and your mouth. Nothing else is important, it all fades away into the background so that you can focus on your desire for her. You find a pair of scissors and snip away at the fabric so that you can see her beautiful breasts, so that they can captivate your gaze and leave you panting with lust."

Joanne nodded, her breath coming just a little too quickly now to think about responding with words. She could feel her arousal beginning to soak into her panties, and she was sure that Natalya could smell it, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do anything about it openly in front of the other woman. Instead, she squeezed her legs together rhythmically, feeling the pressure against her clit slowly melt away her thoughts into a reverie of pleasure.

"But even though she is blind, bound, exposed, helpless," Natalya said, slipping off her earring to hold the pearl closer to Joanne's sightless stare, "it is still you who feel as though you have lost all control. You are feverish with desire, Joanne. You cannot resist the thought of nuzzling those beautiful breasts, licking that perfect pussy, hearing those sweet moans of pleasure as she grinds herself into your tongue. It consumes your mind and you both know it, she has only to whisper to you and you will fall to your knees and service her."

Joanne whimpered, no longer really able to think in words. Everything was images, sensations, impressions. Cici's body, slender and smooth under her fingertips as she gave in and caressed the young woman's skin. Natalya, caressing Joanne's shoulders as she painted the fantasy in Joanne's mind. The musky scent of Joanne's pussy, drifting up into her nostrils and driving her wild with desire. The pearl, moving back and forth just above Joanne's eye level and constantly showing her a new sheen of rainbow hues. Cici, moaning into her makeshift gag as Joanne gave in to her lust and got down on her knees to lick.

"Helplessly drinking in her scent, her taste, lost in the need to worship her body with your tongue," Natalya said, but Joanne could no longer separate the description from the fantasy. "You know that this is your place now. On your knees. Helpless. Aroused. Needy. Wanting nothing more than to serve and obey because it feels so good to be owned." Joanne felt Natalya's hand curl into her hair, guiding her down off the chair into a kneeling position, but it felt like just more of the wonderful waking dream to her now.

Natalya pulled the sash free, letting her house dress fall open. She wasn't wearing anything beneath it. "And you know the words that your lips are aching to speak, the words your tongue is begging to say as you stare at the pretty pussy and feel yourself go blank and helpless with desire. The words that will captivate you, bind you to my power just like you've always wanted." She brushed her hands across Joanne's eyelids, and they slipped shut of their own accord. "All you need to do is say them, and you can have this fantasy. Forever."

Then it was a trap, Joanne thought to herself distantly, too lost in her desire to care. If this was a trap, maybe she wanted to be caught all along. "Yes, Mistress," she whispered, and then her mind fell away as she leaned in to Natalya's wet pussy and began to lick.

THE END