In one section, however, there was a cleared platform. On it was a straight chair and an adjustable podium, the height set proportionate to the chair. A copy of the Kama Sutra was on the podium. She lifted an eyebrow at that, but he opened a utility closet, fished around an array of clothes to pull out a thin body suit in black. “This is something I’ve been working on. There’ve already been a couple prototypes at different adult trade shows, but I wanted to take the idea a little further.” He straightened, his tone changing. “Take off all your clothes, Rachel. Here, in front of me.”
Her hands were nervous, curling in the fabric of her dress. When she hesitated, he added, “You want to be the type of submissive who’s always ready to obey her Master. You’re not used to the way of it, but it’s there in you. Give yourself over to that. A small test for tonight.”
Tonight. That nebulous concept was back, flitting around in her stomach while all sorts of provocative imaginings darted through her mind.
She slid the dress off her shoulders, pushing it down to her waist. His gaze followed it, down the slope of her bare breasts, lingering on their heavy weight, the jutting nipples. She stepped out of her shoes before she hooked the waistband of the dress and shimmied out of it, letting it pool around her ankles.
“Turn around as you take off the panties. Bend over, show me your p-ssy as you do it. Make me hard, Rachel. Stay in that position.”
She pivoted on her foot, her hair brushing her shoulders as she complied, easing the cotton lace down her thighs, bending forward and balancing on one foot as she took the undergarment off, adjusting her stance so he could see what he demanded. When he approached, she shivered in anticipation as he parted the folds of her cunt, and his fingers slid inside of her. Along with something else. It felt like two quarter-sized pieces of fabric being pressed against her labia, and then they were inside of her, as he pushed them against the walls of her vagina. When he slid free, he did the same thing to her anus, using the lubrication of her aroused p-ssy to slide the small pieces inside.
He stepped back. “Now straighten, only do it in a way your Master would like.”
She came up slowly, keeping the arch in her back as long as possible, then tossed her hair back so it slithered in waves over her shoulder blades. Lifting her arm, she gathered the silken strands and looked over her shoulder at him.
Any worries she had that her wanton display was comical at best were dissipated by his reaction. He had his head tilted, and she saw that intriguing combination in his gaze again, the man appreciating her display with blatant lust, the engineer making some type of calculation based on what he was seeing. Then he came forward with the garment in his hand. “All right, step into this. Hold into my shoulder if you need to do so. It’s tight.”
It certainly was, such that he helped stretch the fabric over every curve. It outlined her pubic mound, her breasts and nipples, the cleft of her ass, as if she was wearing paint instead of clothing. She felt a little self-conscious about the unavoidable mid-section thickness that came with being a mother in her forties, but he brushed her concerns away as he adjusted the body suit here and there, indulging himself with a far less functional caress or squeeze, a stroke or pinch that had her arching into his touch and drawing erratic breaths.
Distributed inside the fabric of the suit were more thin wafers. They had some type of metal component though, because he was adjusting their placement with a magnet, moving them here and there, so that when he finished they were centered at her nipples, her * and her throat, for the suit came up high under her chin. More were at her wrists, ankles, the base of her spine…over two dozen places, including chakra energy points, she noted.
He’d commanded her to remain utterly still while he made the alterations, but after he finished, he wanted her to move. A full forward fold, where that magnet and the brush of his fingers moved along her spine, to the impression at the top of her buttocks, then lower. Then a twist of her upper body, a lift of her arms, showing the full range of movement. He did something else with the device she’d assumed was only a magnet, and suddenly it felt as if all those points, and the fabric itself, had melded to her, the wafers moving with those erogenous points. It was a little claustrophobic, like getting an unexpected second skin, but as he encouraged her to keep moving about, it became more comfortable.
“All right, how’s that?”
“Good. May I ask…what does this do?”
His expression reflected his approval at her deference. “The easiest explanation is it simulates sexual stimulation and intercourse through a combination of direct contact and acupressure.”
Rachel blinked. “What?”
He gave her an absent half smile, studying something on his handheld and scanning her body with the magnet sensor at the same time. “I was going to use Dana or Cassandra for the first test, but a much better option presented herself.”
She glanced over at the props. “And the podium and book, what are those for?”
“Take a seat and I’ll show you.”
She sat in the wooden chair as he adjusted the podium so that she could view the book at eye level. When he opened it to the middle, she saw the pages were blank, the Kama Sutra cover a fa?ade. Before she could ask about that, he’d moved to a monitor on a workbench nearby. When he hit several keys, she heard a beep. “There you are. As we do this, it will record data on your reactions. I can use that to make the suit even better.”
“Have you named your invention?” She tried to ask it casually, though she was feeling more than a little unsettled, thinking about what he said it could do.
His lips twisted. “They call the one at the conferences ‘the sex suit’. Pretty unimaginative. I’d like to come up with something far more aesthetically pleasing to a woman’s ear. If I have Justin market it in his store, maybe he can help me come up with a proper name.”
His attention went back to the monitor, fingers tapping, hair tousled over his brow. A man in T-shirt and jeans who nevertheless looked as in control of his environment as he did when in a suit. “Keep your hands on the chair arms and put your heels outside the legs, so your knees are spread. Don’t be alarmed by this next step.”
“What—” She gave a short yelp as her wrists and ankles were suddenly immobilized.
“I used that technology first at a board meeting where Lucas was winning over Cassandra. The suit doesn’t require bracelets on the wrists and ankles though. It uses highly sensitized magnets to hold the arms and legs to the chair. Don’t worry about tipping it. It’s anchored to the floor.”
“Okay, the serial killer thing is coming to mind now. Only it’s an elaborate Hollywood movie where he chooses diabolical, complicated ways to immobilize his victim.”
Hearing the note of panic beneath the desperate humor, he glanced up at her, those blue eyes blinking through a few strands of dark hair. The silken brows drew down and he came to her then, moving with his lithe grace to take a knee between her restrained feet. Cupping her face with his strong fingers, he brought her attention to that commanding touch, his serious features, the firm, sensual mouth. “Unless it’s for your pleasure, like a spanking, I will never hurt you, Rachel. I promise.”
“You scare me. On so many levels. You’re…so much at once, you know?”