Touching Angel's Desires (3 page)

“No problem, I’ll be in room twenty-two.”

“Thank you. You can leave.” Dan stood and left the room. Angel smiled
to herself, very pleased with his performance—she only wished she had lasted
longer.

She pottered around her office waiting for the call to say the new
client had arrived. She replied to a few emails, ordered some new supplies, including
new sheets for the orgy room. Then she browsed her favourite bondage wholesaler
and ordered some of their latest items including a leather whip with a jelly
dildo handle, and a black and red heart shaped spanker that was particularly
pretty.

She had planned a masquerade ball for New Year’s Eve. Not that her
clients needed their inhibitions loosened, but things could often be more fun
when people could hide their faces behind masks. She found a fancy dress
website with an interesting selection and had just begun to look through them
when the phone sounded.

“Yes.”

“Stacie Clifford is here,” Shannon informed her

“Excellent, I will be there in a few minutes.” Angel stood up tall,
straightening out her skirt. She could feel her juices trickling down her legs
from her earlier session with Dan. She cleaned herself quickly in the bathroom.
It didn’t hurt to make new clients wait a few minutes, to get the feel of the
place. Instead of heading straight out, she sat at her dressing table leisurely
checking her makeup, re-applying her lipstick and then made her way to
reception.

Angel saw a woman sitting on the couch frowning over a clipboard.
All new clients had to complete a questionnaire prior to interview, so Angel
knew what to expect, and what they expected from the club. She looked up as
Angel approached and smiled nervously.

“Hello. You must be Stacie?” Angel said. She watched the woman gulp
and nod her head.

“Lovely, I’m Angel. May I have your questionnaire and then, if you’d
like to follow me, we can have a little chat somewhere more private.” She held
out her hand and Stacie gave her the clipboard.

Angel walked to the reception desk. Bailey looked up as she
approached.

“Is that Stacie Clifford?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, why?”

“The one you told me had no self confidence?” she said, needing to
double check.

“Yes. Angel, is something the matter?” Bailey asked, a puzzled look
on her face. Angel glanced back at Stacie rising from the couch looking anxious,
straightening her clothes. She could hardly believe what a stunning girl she
was.

Stacie had long glossy hair the colour of the finest plain chocolate—radiant,
if worried, brown eyes and a slender figure that was hidden in a dowdy suit…but,
looking past the frumpy outfit, she was beautiful.

“Could you sort us out some white wine…I might need it,” she told
Bailey.

“Of course.”

Angel took the lead down the corridor, checking Stacie was following
her. She noticed her staring wide-eyed at the raunchy paintings of voluptuous
dominatrices and their ecstatic victims.

They approached her office. “Come in, please. Take a seat,” Angel
said, holding the door open for Stacie to follow her through. She had a lump in
her throat, staring at the beautiful woman. She was already regretting
assigning Dan to her.

Angel followed Stacie in, seeing her admiring her office. She looked
around it herself, seeing it freshly through Stacie’s eyes. She had
deliberately kept the décor professional.
Dark antique
panelling sourced from a stately home covered all the walls, illuminated by
several small lights placed strategically throughout the room. Angel’s large antique
oak desk dominated the space, sitting against the far wall. The only nod to
femininity was several vanilla candles, which scented the room with their
subtle fragrance. Thanks to her cleaning staff, the office was immaculate.

Angel indicated for Stacie to take a seat and watched her fall into
the squashy sofa. She smothered a laugh and kept her professional face on. She
forced back the memory of the last person who had sat there and turned her
attention back to the stunning Stacie. She wasn’t ready to put her off the club
yet—she needed Stacie’s money. Angel watched her wiggle her bottom to the front
edge of the sofa and straighten her back as she stared around at the room.

“Right then, Stacie.” Angel’s voice rang out in the quiet room,
bringing Stacie’s attention back to her. Angel put Stacie’s clipboard on top of
her laptop and glanced down at it, leaning forward quite deliberately and deepening
her cleavage.

“I’ve ordered some drinks for us,” Angel said.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Stacie replied a little primly. Angel glared
at her.

“I insist. I want you to feel comfortable. I don’t bite,” Angel
said. She looked back down at the clipboard, skimming Stacie’s answers, which
were depressingly wishy-washy. Some clients knew exactly what they wanted and
were not afraid to spell it out, sometimes in explicit detail.

Angel looked back up at Stacie and smiled. “Okay, Stacie. Firstly,
welcome to Desires. You know what our club does, so I don’t need to give you
any details about that. Secondly,” she tapped Stacie’s questionnaire with a
long fingernail, “this is shit, and you know it.” Angel said, seeing Stacie
flush miserably. Angel paused before continuing in a more gentle voice. “I’m
sorry, I don’t mean to upset you. But these questions,” she flourished the
offending document, “are vital for me to give you the best experience of
Desires you can, and your answers don’t really help me do that. I need to ask
you, why are you here? What is it you are looking for?” She looked closely at
Stacie, who had turned an unbecoming shade of tomato.

“I am just wanting to…” Stacie paused. “I am looking for help in
regaining my confidence in myself and in…in…in…sex.”

Angel picked up a pen and scored through Stacie’s original answer.
She began to write what Stacie was telling her. “What are your likes and
dislikes?”

“It depends what you offer me.”

“Well, we can come back to that one. So, you want to gain confidence
in yourself and enjoy sex?” Angel looked at Stacie. Just as she was about to
answer, a knock sounded at the door. The drinks had arrived.

“Enter,” Angel called.

Bailey pushed open the door, balancing a tray bearing a bottle of
white wine and two glasses. She placed the tray on the desk and poured a glass,
before starting to pour a second. Angel took a gulp of hers immediately, then
another.

“Sorry, I’m driving…” Stacie said, holding out a hand to stop Bailey,
who glanced at Angel in enquiry.

“Trust me, it will relax you. Just make it half a glass for Miss
Clifford,” she said to Bailey, who nodded and obeyed before leaving the room quietly.
“How did you find out about Desires?” Angel asked, putting down her glass and folding
her arms over the clipboard.

“I was clearing out some of my ex-husband’s stuff and I saw an
advert in one of his magazines.”

“You were shocked, right?” Angel asked.

Stacie nodded. “Very much so. It was a, you know, one of
those
magazines.” Angel watched her face
change colour dramatically. “I only looked through out of curiosity. I’d never
seen anything like that before.”

“And you saw our advert.”

“Yes.”

“So what made you decide to make contact?”

“Well, I guess I was intrigued. I kept the advert in my underwear
drawer for months. I kept taking it out and looking at it, then losing my nerve
and putting it back.”

“What changed?”

“Well, I guess I thought I needed a little fun back in my life.”

Angel looked at Stacie’s flushed face, noted that shifting look in
her eyes, eyes that kept flicking to the door as if getting ready to escape. “But
you’re still not sure, are you, Stacie?” Stacie gave a tiny shake of her head.
“Why not?”

“I just don’t know if this is the right kind of fun for me,” Stacie
answered. “No offence, but it’s all a bit…well…icky.”

“I see.”
Icky, was it? Well,
little Miss Prim and Proper, I’ll show you icky!
Angel smiled. “Well, only
you can decide on whether Desires is right for you. You’re right. It’s not for
everyone. But you’ve told me what you are looking for and, if you decide to
stay with us, we will make sure you receive it. You need confidence. I can
clearly see that by the way you are dressed.”

Stacie looked offended. Angel saw her glance down at her work suit.
“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”

“You’re covering up all your best assets. Your blouse is almost
around your neck, your skirt is far too long and I bet you are wearing tights
rather than stockings.”

Stacie’s eyebrows shot up.

“So,” Angel continued without a break, “tell me a little about
yourself, your personal life and the last time you had sex, as well as your
turn-on points,” she asked, wanting to know as much of the woman as possible.

“I work for a fashion magazine. I’ve worked there since leaving college.
I was married to a violent monster who drank himself stupid, and demanded sex.
He also hit me till I was black and blue. I have no children, thank goodness,
and no friends. I live for my work, it’s the only thing that keeps me sane. The
last time I had sex was with the monster. What turns me on? I have no idea.”

Yawn, yawn, abusive
husband, no friends. Who cares?
Angel didn’t miss a
beat. “You must have some idea what turns you on.” Stacie stared at Angel, her
expression puzzled. Angel leaned back in her leather chair and played with her
pen. Had Stacie expected sympathy? Angel wasn’t her bloody best friend. Let Dan
handle her sob stories. She pressed on.

“Do you like your breasts played with or do you like the man to dive
straight into your knickers?” Angel gave as an example, staring at Stacie.

Stacie glared back at Angel’s abruptness. “First I have to get to
know him.”

“Good point, so you like…what, chat?”

“I guess…no…yes…I like to get to know him before…you know.”

“So you’re not a quickie girl?”

“God, no…I like romance with a meal, dim atmospheric lighting, a bit
of flirting and sweet talking,” Stacie’s eyes misted at the fantasy before
Angel’s sharp voice interrupted.

“You like a bore then?”

“No…I like chitchat. I am not the kind of girl to open my legs that
quickly.”
She is a fucking bore! All talk and no action.

“So you like the build up? You want respect?” Angel said, thrusting
her body forward and staring directly into Stacie’s eyes.

“I want to be respected. Yes.”

“Then what, chat, coffee and sex?”

“Not on the first date!” Stacie answered, obviously getting annoyed.

“But why?” Angel fired back.

“Don’t you think that’s desperate?”

Desperate, is it?
Angel took a deep, calming breath and tried to answer. “Not
necessarily; it depends who you are and what you’re after. Some girls aren’t
bothered about who they are with, it’s what’s inside the trousers. Other girls,
like yourself, prefer the build up. Also, it depends on whether you’re just
after a one-night stand or a relationship,” Angel said, leaning back in the
leather chair before continuing, “Now. Turn-on points, breasts or—”

“I like my breasts to be caressed,” Stacie blurted.

“Excellent. I need to make a few notes,” Angel started to write on
the clipboard. “When was the last time you masturbated?”

Stacie stuck out a mutinous chin.

“I need to know, Stacie, or I can’t properly help you.”

“Quite a while ago. I have completely lost interest.”

“Because of your ex-husband?”

“I guess so. In the beginning of our relationship it was okay, but
then once the ring went on my finger he changed. Out went the romance and
flowers. Along came the booze, drugs and violence. I guess I’ve forgotten what
love-making is.”

Here we go again, yawn
fucking yawn. I get it, he fucked you up.
Angel
made herself relax. She didn’t think for a second this woman was right for
Desires—far too priggish and prudish. But maybe Angel could get a few sessions
of cash out of her before she bottled it and fled. She forced a smile and
gentled her voice. “Sounds like he did an amazing job of messing you up. He’s
made you feel worthless and abused you mentally as well as physically. I give
you full credit for gathering the courage to come here and attempt to regain
what I call the joy of life. Love-making is the most amazing feeling with the
right person, and I promise you, we
will
help you. However, there is one thing. You are here to be taught and not, and I
repeat not, to fall in love,” Angel said, sitting forward and looking Stacie
directly in the eye.

“I will match you with a tutor who will help to give you confidence
in both self-stimulation and also intercourse. He will not treat you like dirt,
but with respect. The tutors in this place are paid by sessions and won’t do
the romantic build-up that you like, but I will chat with your tutor first,
make him understand your feelings and relax your tension. He will treat you
well and he will care for you. I have seen women in your position fall in love
with their tutor, thinking he feels the same because he is caring. But he’s
just doing his job. And the women are inevitably disappointed.” She saw Stacie
nod in agreement. Just as well. Dan was hers!