Goodbye to the Past Pt. 07

GOODBYE TO THE PAST Part 7 ? The Leaving Present

Caitlin's role as Bonnie and Frank's PA ends in style

Prologue

The device they are using to torture me isn't particularly sophisticated or devious. Just a high-backed, leather-padded office chair. After all - as Amelie, the tall Amazon-like black woman with blonde hair said as she towered over me - this was to be mental torture, not physical.

I am bent over the chair back with my butt sticking out, my hands down in front of me, gripping the arms. I try to move my head but it is difficult given that the studded collar around my neck is attached to a ring on the top of the chair back by a short chain. I look down at my wrists, securely shackled to the arms of the chair by thick leather straps. I flex my legs but the spreader bar that my ankle restraints are attached to ensures I cannot move those either.

I am helpless - I am going nowhere.

I glance down and look at the timer they have put on the seat of the chair. The large red figures pulse up at me, mocking my inability to move.

01:00:00

An hour. A whole fucking hour. You know when they say that time stands still? It didn't stand still ? I swear it went backwards. Believe me, when you are tied to chair and told you will be forced to watch over twenty people fuck, suck, fondle, moan and groan in front of you for an hour when there is nothing you can do but scream inwardly, time moves at the speed of tectonic plates.

A brush of a kiss on my left cheek. Sleek, jet black hands running down my sides making me shiver. The catch of a long fingernail on my already swollen clitoris. A whisper in my ear in a lust-laden French accent. "Miss Price, your chosen specialist subject is The Sex Parties of Franklin and Bonita Rodriguez..."

A long, elegant black forefinger comes into my line of view. She touches the fingertip tenderly to the tip of my nose. She runs it slowly down over my gagged lips, my chin, my throat. She slowly moves her hand downwards to the seat of the chair.

"Your time starts now..."

She touches a button on the top of the timer.

00:59:59

I have a perfect view of proceedings. I bite down on the ball gag as my ordeal begins. The black woman takes her husband's massive cock in her mouth inches from my face. My fiancée Anjali Mithra joins her, tongue flicking lasciviously as she groans in pleasure as Frank enters her from behind, his big hands sliding over her lovely brown skin to fondle her breasts. They are completely oblivious to my presence.

My last night in the penthouse in Chelsea Harbour. My last night in Bonnie and Frank Rodriguez's employ.

And this is how the bastards thank me.

00:59:00 A year goes by.

00:58:00 Civilisations rise and fall.

00:55:00 Oh fuck, please make it stop!

Chapter One

My name is Caitlin Grainne Price and I am twenty five years old. I was - until the night I stood strapped to the leather chair helplessly watching some very debauched behaviour - a Personal Assistant to Bonnie and Frank Rodriguez, an American couple with business interests in the UK and Europe. I now work as an office manager for a training company co-owned by an ex-colleague from my 'Other Job'.

My 'Other Job'? Oh yes, of course. For the last nine months I have been a high-class Call Girl and Escort going under the name of Caprice.

Caitlin Price ? Caprice... Get it?

And do you know what?

I fucking love it.

So much so that at last I feel confident enough in myself to finish my story in my own words.

I still sometimes need to take a few quiet moments to remind myself of the massive change that has washed over me in the past eighteen months or so. I wonder if things would have been different had I not turned the door handle to Bonnie's apartment that fateful night. Had I not, would we have got together as we did? Something tells me we probably have done ? I believe in fate and what happened that night seems like fate to me.

I certainly needed fate to provide something or someone to change me. I wasn't going to do it alone.

Bonnie Rodriguez started the process. Her daughter Skye helped it on its way. Gina Harcourt and Angela deVries - the co-owners of the Agency I work for - had their input along with a good few others.

But Anji has helped me put the finishing touches. Well not exactly finishing. I'm nowhere near the finished article yet, but meeting and falling in love with my wonderful soul-mate has made me a more complete person than I could ever imagine possible. I once told Bonnie that without her, there'd be no Anji. I now firmly believe that if there was no Bonnie, there'd be no me. I look on my life as having two distinct periods ? BB and AB.

Before Bonnie and After Bonnie.

I also told Bonnie when I got my Carpe Diem tattoo that I wouldn't look back anymore ? only forwards. But sometimes I need to look back and remember the girl I was to see the woman I have become. Before Bonnie, I was a dowdy, repressed little shell of a thing. Not exactly frightened of my own shadow, but certainly frightened of any intimacy and absolutely dead scared of sexual contact.

After Bonnie, I bağcılar escort blossomed. I began to sleep with women - including her adopted daughter Skye -and loved it. I had sex with more than one person simultaneously and loved it. With the assistance of her cunning little plan, I seduced Bonnie's husband Frank and felt an overwhelming feeling of ecstasy as together we shared the spoils of another first for me. I realised that I loved watching and being watched. Kissing Skye in public for the first time was a revelation. Once I had done that, I felt I could do anything. I've not done it all yet, not by a long way ? but I'll get there.

Then there was Anjali Mithra. The love of my life - the girl I am going to marry some day. The girl with whom I became a Savage Angel and participated in one of the most memorable nights of our lives, cavorting as schoolgirls at one of Bonnie and Frank's orgy parties and going down a storm - so much so that we are still asked to do it to this day.

Anjali Mithra - the budding actress who convinced me that I should take on a new job.

I already had a job ? as I said, I was Personal Assistant to Franklin and Bonita Rodriguez. As you may have seen, at times the job got very personal indeed and I loved every moment of it. When their involvement in their London business was no longer such a pressing issue, they took a step back. I said I'd get bored when they went back to Miami and Bonnie made a joke about me applying for a particular job she thought I'd be good at.

Bonnie and I laughed at the idea. Anji didn't see it as a joke. She saw it as a great opportunity, and of course she was right.

I applied. I was 'interviewed'. I got the job.

The last nine months since I was taken onto the books of deVries and Harcourt have been a bit of a blur. A wonderful, wild ride of new experiences, fabulous sex and more tearing down of the wall that I had built around myself for so long.

The wall hasn't quite gone but most of it lies in rubble around my feet. Every new experience helps to knock a few more bricks out of it; every time I see Anji's face as I wake up next to her clears more of the detritus from my mind.

I'm getting there much quicker than I ever thought possible.

When I think back to the first time I walked up the drive of the Hampstead mansion owned by Angela deVries, it seems like a lifetime ago. I had been trembling in fear before my 'interview', but immediately felt at ease with the tall, angular Dutchwoman. I must have impressed her, even taking up her challenge of giving her husband Philippe a surprise little treat.

The second occasion I made the walk was a sort of induction day. She explained all about how the Agency operated and I recall her going through my list of things I'd be willing to do. A strange other-world of abbreviations and synonyms that meant that I'd take it in mouth and on my face. I wouldn't do anal ? at least at the time anyway. I certainly do now. Initials for this, initials for that; all obscuring that fact that I'd be willing or unwilling to perform some sexual act or have one performed on me by a man, woman or both.

All my 'do's and don'ts' as Angela had called them. In the intervening time a fair few more 'don'ts' have become 'do's' as my experience has widened.

The shackles have come off. And in some cases, the shackles have gone on, if you catch my drift. Yes, I am definitely widening my experience and thanks to a very pleasant weekend down in rural Sussex at the home of Gina Harcourt recently, I have a few new skills in my repertoire. Let's just say that Gina's best friend Josie Napier-Jones is an extremely adept teacher and the glorious red-head gave us a master-class. By 'us', I mean that Anji was there too and we have a fair few new toys to play with since then. It was quite a foursome and now seeing Anji come at me with velvet lined handcuffs leaves me weak at the knees.

I was thrilled at the results of my photo-shoot, presided over by Philippe, Angela's handsome French husband, some twenty years her junior. By the time I left, he had produced Caprice's first-draft webpage and Anji and I gazed at it that evening for what seemed like hours.

"God, you look fucking gorgeous. I wish I was doing it with you." Her lovely brown eyes gazed into mine.

I stroked her lustrous black hair. "You're going to be famous soon. Maybe best to avoid the scandal sheets?"

She grunted. "Hmph ? may as well try out for porn for all the bloody parts I'm getting. All that time at that BBC shoot last week and I'll get five fucking seconds on-screen. My character doesn't even have a name ? just 'Girl in café ? Anjali Mithra'. Whoop-de-do."

I cuddled her in. "Hey, it's a speaking part and you got to work with the star!"

She pulled away indignantly. "I gave her a fucking coffee. 'Thanks, have you got a loyalty card?' Jeez, the nights I lay awake desperately trying to come up with the right inflection. Thank goodness for Method Acting, coz I'd never have been able to grasp the complexities of the role."

She kissed me on the nose. "Sorry babe. I know we'll both be getting paid for what we love to do, bayan escortlar but you'll be doing it more often than me and getting paid a damned side more..."

And she was right. She's been on TV a couple of times since in another long-running serial and an advert for on-line banking but most of her roles have been on the stage.

Most of mine have been on my back of course and for the first time I can ever remember, my bank balance is not tottering around the zero mark at the end of each month. I've even managed to open a savings account and expanded my wardrobe.

Or I should say 'our' wardrobe. Anji is the same size as me. We share a lot. Bonnie gets confused when Anji pitches up in one of my new dresses.

Talking of Bonnie, I miss her and Frank ? they are over in Miami more than they are here now, but when they are back, it's all guns blazing. The last few parties have been pretty spectacular, and when Anji is not touring, we usually get asked to reprise our Savage Angels schoolgirl act, though now just about everyone has seen it before.

Yes, a lot had changed for me, but the last few weeks in the employ of the Rodriguez's proved to be just as eventful.

For a start, I got myself another new job and I got engaged.

I also started my now almost fanatical obsession with anal sex.

Oh, and there was that fucking leather chair as well...

Chapter Two

It was nice to finish an assignment early in the day, especially being a Saturday. Terri was a pretty, bubbly forty year old who had finally, aged 38, decided to act on her long-repressed wish to make out with other women. She was working her way through the female side of the deVries and Harcourt roster and I was the latest to enjoy her company. It had been a lovely, gentle ninety minutes or so and afterwards I accepted her offer of a glass of wine. She was short and curvy with shoulder length black hair and a radiant smile. Her husband was away on business a lot, so she had plenty of opportunity to indulge her new little "hobby" as she called it. I enjoyed her company immensely and she seemed to enjoy mine, so hoped I see her again.

I got back to Anji's houseboat on the Thames around four, deciding against a night on my own in the penthouse. Bonnie and Frank were away and I'd rather rattle round an empty houseboat than my little apartment which was attached to their much larger penthouse, despite its stellar views. After all, the view from the houseboat wasn't half bad either.

I texted Anji wishing her luck, knowing she'd be on stage in the matinee at the moment. It was a big day for her ? the first time she'd have done two performances on the same day so she was staying with friends in South London after the show.

I was so proud of her when she got her big break at last. She had been thrilled enough to get a small part in Twelfth Night at Shakespeare's Globe in Southwark. Two small parts actually as they often double up. She was also understudy to the girl playing Viola. Halfway through the run, the girl found she was expecting and Anji got her break. She stepped up seamlessly and I had been to seen her three times already. I couldn't wait for the last night in a week's time and the after-party.

I poured myself a Coke and sat gazing out over the Thames wondering what to do with the rest of the day. My eyes fell on the hookah on the low table in the middle of the room. Maybe later, with a nice bottle of wine and a chick-flick followed by some naughty surfing to see the night out.

I was drifting off into a nice little doze when my phone rang. Too early for Anji. I looked in amazement at the name that popped up. "Hey Adam! How's it going? You not working today?"

Adam Carpenter, a gorgeous 32 year old blonde haired, chiselled-featured colleague from deV