The Road Not Taken
By Tang.
Part TwoAbi initially felt entirely numb but within a few moments her fingers sensed they were grasping something. She blinked her eyes a couple of times and quickly her sight cleared, though it seemed shaded and she realised she was now wearing sunglasses. She was in her car, or was it? The steering wheel felt different, it was large and wooden; her posture seemed lower to the ground. Her body felt a little constrained as if held gently but firmly all over. She glanced down and saw her thighs coated in shiny dark pewter rubber running into long boots. She loved this outfit, it was so sensuous how it hugged her body making it into a sleek shiny machine just like her car.
Abi shook her head. Were those her thoughts or those of Gail? Was there a fetish lurking deep inside her, now revealed by being dressed the way Gail had been? That had been Harman’s line, that Abi’s and Gail’s differences only came from different opportunities and each had the other within themselves. Abi glanced back along the road, but ‘her’ car, the hire car she had driven from the conference, was gone. Then she realised she was actually on a different stretch of road, farther on. Harman had been busy. She wondered where he was, probably in some other version of the world putting the next stage of his plan into action. Abi just hoped he would do as he said and come back for her. Abi glanced at her watch and found the cheap one from a catalogue had been replaced by a sleek silver one in a contemporary style which she remembered Olinda had given her three years ago. Next to it around her wrist was Harman’s chain of beads. Abi turned them as one would with rosary beads. The pink, orange and blue ones were missing. The rest were in place. She guessed Harman had crushed those when Abi had become recalcitrant, knowing the wave of new memories would knock her out, or maybe he simply had had some other device to achieve that. Well, now the beads were in her possession, Abi felt a little reassured that she now had some control.
Abi wondered about Olinda. As she thought of the name, memories came to Abi and she could see the woman’s face. She was a glad of that at least, because it would be a real blunder if she turned up and greeted the maid or a friend or something, and not the woman who was supposed to be her lover. ‘Her lover’: those words Abi had never really been able to apply to any men in her life, let alone a woman. For some reason she thought of the Tracy Chapman song, ‘For My Lover’ and wondered why; she had not heard it in years or had she been listening to it as she packed for this trip?
Focusing on the concerns ahead, Abi guessed that she could cry off any sexual encounters by saying she was stressed or tired. She remembered that Olinda gave the best massages. Abi had no problem with being massaged by a woman, she had had one when she had won a spa weekend a couple of years ago. As long as Olinda did not get the wrong idea, then that would be safe. Then the thought of Olinda’s soft hands caressing Abi’s back came to mind and she quivered. She thought of Olinda’s tongue lapping her nipples.
Abi dismissed these thoughts with a shudder. These were not her memories they were Gail’s and she had to be clear about that. Abi looked at the road ahead of her. She knew this road well, she and Olinda had raced down it in their cars many a time. The engine of her car was idling and she was at a sharp angle to the road. Abi thought it was advisable to straighten up. She was not eager to rush on to Olinda’s until she had things clear in her mind. She turned her head to look back and saw skid marks across the road in both directions. Behind the crash barrier was a sharp drop that fell many metres to a river running below. Abi reached out over the driver’s door of her car, the silver, left-hand drive convertible roadster she used when coming to Germany. The vehicle seemed undamaged. She loved this car and its speed and knew she took too many risks driving it. She had to be grateful that this time she had avoided something serious. She must have passed out when she swerved, it had been a lucky escape. She cursed whoever had caused it. She imagined it was one of those fat-bellied German men in his BMW driving up the middle of the road while using his phone that had caused the incident. She trusted he would dent his no-claims bonus having tried to shove her off the road.
Abi revved the engine and backed the car up into another narrow lay-by. She guessed she ought to push on. She checked her face in the mirror. Her hair looked perfectly sleek pulled back tightly from her face. The russet lipstick looked good and she did like these earrings. Sure that she was still suitably groomed, Abi glanced in the wing mirror, thinking that maybe she was a little tired and distracted. As she pulled away, loving the growl of the powerful engine she determined to keep it down to 80 kph at least until she was off this stretch of road.
Even with reduced speed it was not long before Abi was at Olinda’s place. It was a compact, late 17th century hunting lodge up a steep rise from a small, very German looking village. Abi somehow knew half of the locals looked on Olinda as the lady of the manor, the other half saw her as something like Baroness Frankenstein. The gates swung open as Abi’s car pulled up and she drove into the courtyard. Olinda’s car was parked there too, showing she had probably been out earlier. Abi felt a strange eagerness. Though she knew the house well, she had been coming here for three years, it was almost as if she were seeing it with fresh eyes. She took her small clutch bag from the glove compartment and headed to the front door. She pulled her key out and was soon stepping into the broad hallway with its large winding stairs.
Instinctively, Abi looked to the right, into the lounge. The door stood open and a woman, Olinda, was visible lying on the couch. She was certainly impressive. Her hair was dark and cut short but stylish; her eyes were brown. Though she was nine years older than Abi her skin was unblemished and ran so smoothly to her rather pointed chin. She was a little over Abi’s height, and her slender limbs were accentuated by the clothes she wore; all of vibrant red leather. Olinda’s ankle-length coat had fallen back to reveal the wonderful package below. Abi loved those long Italian boots that stretched to end as a pure diagonal at Olinda’s thighs, the tight trousers beneath and the bustiere which cupped her lovely breasts. In typical Olinda style, she had long gauntlets running past her elbow, with rings and bracelets pulled on top of them as if locking them to the coat below. Her clenched fists looked so deliciously alien as if Olinda’s skin itself was of soft shiny red leather.
Abi lifted her sharp heels as she padded over the stone floor and then the rug to Olinda. Something strong was driving her on and any questions about what she was doing had fled her mind. For the moment all she knew was that she wanted to awake this woman with a kiss. Quickly she bent over and gently, then more firmly, pressed her lips against Olinda’s relishing how silky they felt beneath hers. It was the first time ever she had kissed a woman on the lips and though it alarmed her, it was quite pleasant. She felt Olinda stir and in moments herself being embraced and pulled down on to the couch. Abi now thought she should struggle, put a little distance between them. It had clearly been wrong to kiss, but she had to admit she had been a little curious and wondered what it might be like to play at being a lesbian; but recognised that this was going too far. As Olinda’s leather-clad body slid sensuously beneath Abi’s and her hands stroked her back, Abi felt startled at her own arousal. She guessed that skin-tight rubber would do that to you, it offered little more protection than silk would have done, in fact it seemed to accentuate every touch that Olinda gave.
Finally Abi pulled away and sat back from Olinda who was now scrabbling to sit up, her scarlet lips grinning broadly.
“Angel, Angel.” Olinda said repeatedly.
From somewhere Abi remembered this was her pet name. “Kiku, I’m here.” She responded in kind.
Olinda lent forward for a gentler kiss. Abi took it. She kept her eyes closed but the scent told her it was a woman she was kissing. Abi hoped Olinda was satisfied with kisses for the moment.
“Did you have a good drive?”
Suddenly Abi realised Olinda had spoken in German. She knew only a few words, but it had come across fluently. She guessed this was due to one of Harman’s devices.
“Erm, yes.”
Abi could sense the difference to if she had said it in English, but she found she had no difficulty calling the German words to mind. She tried some more.
“The roads were quiet, but some fat bastard almost drove me off the road a few kilometres back.”
Abi realised she had said kilometres, not a measure in common use in Britain. It was a little unnerving and her resentment at Harman for so rewiring her brain increased.
Olinda had lent forward and grasped Abi’s hand in her own softly leathered one. “Angel, you drive too fast, we both do. You need to take it carefully. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Yes.”
Abi remembered what Harman had said. This Olinda had to be a little unbalanced. She wondered what had drawn Gail to her; it must be something more than her beauty and the sexy clothes she wore.
“But I’m here, we’re together now. I’m on holiday for ten days, it’s just you and me, erm, Kiku.”
Olinda smiled and seemed reassured.
“How was Antwerp?”
“Good, it’s growing.”
“Well, it’s nearer to me than London, Milan or New York.” Olinda looked down to her thighs, suddenly seeming almost a little sheepish. “Why don’t you base yourself here?”
Abi’s mind reeled. She had not thought about it, but these women, Gail and Olinda had been seeing each other for three years and yet lived in different countries. She wondered if Harman had neglected to copy over Gail’s commitment phobia. Abi tried to run through her memories or Gail’s memories in fact. She found no such phobia there, simply work that took the two of them jetting off in different directions, one to conferences and seminars, the other to catwalk shows and designer launches. As she went through these thoughts there was a weariness and Abi was rather startled by the loneliness and the willingness to do what Olinda was suggesting. Then, suddenly, Abi felt guilty, as if she had been rifling through another woman’s diary.
“Erm, yes. It’s certainly possible. I send my articles in by email and video conference the meetings most times anyway. We can keep my London place for visits and erm, ah, well, maybe for our wedding.”
Olinda looked up suddenly, raising her gaze from their intertwined hands. Abi almost choked and flushed deeply. She had no idea where that had come from. She could not believe she was proposing to a woman, something she had never even considered with any man she had dated back in her own life. Abi hoped she had not blundered. In her Britain same-sex marriages had only recently been permitted and she was uncertain whether that was the case in this version of the world, however close it might be to hers. Then again, she was sure that the drive to make the suggestion had come from the parts of her mind currently filled with Gail’s desires rather than her own.
Olinda lent forwards and kissed Abi. She let it happen, hoping her continued unease did not betray itself. She was still conscious that she did not know really how fragile Olinda’s personality could be and she was worried that a wrong move on her behalf could upset things severely. If Olinda thought that half a marriage proposal she had just made was some kind of game it could really undermine her.
“Say it.”
Olinda’s lips tickled Abi’s ear as she whispered into it.
Abi sat away from her and looked seriously at Olinda for a few moments, hoping she was striking the right tone.
“Kiku, Olinda, my love, will you marry me?”
“Angel, Angel, my Angel, yes, yes, of course.”
Olinda almost bowled Abi backwards as she leapt at her; her mouth locating Abi’s, her hands clinging to her as if it were their last moments together. Abi quivered. However strange it may be, the sensation of a warm, leather-clad body pressed against her woke up her senses. The rubber seemed simply to accentuate the contact and Abi was aware body heat could be felt through it. Olinda’s tongue cavorted in her mouth and Abi felt this woman’s mound pressed forcefully against her own. Abi closed her eyes and tried to think of Marcus, the last man she had enjoyed sex with, hoping it would give her body the correct response to Olinda’s assault. However, it did not really work. Abi realised the contact with a woman was different. There was no hard member knocking at the lips of her pussy, instead breasts pressed down on hers and silky lips ran over her own. Then she felt Olinda’s hand between her thighs. That felt good, very good. For an instant Abi worried that having cleared the first test, she would now slip up not knowing how to properly have sex with a woman. Of course the concern was only momentary and all Gail’s memories of pleasuring a number of women, but most particularly Olinda, came to mind.
Abi began responding, running her hands beneath Olinda’s coat loving the feel of the smooth leather on her firm body beneath. Again Abi worried, was hers an objective admiration of the female form or was it that Gail’s judgement corrupting her own? Abi gasped as she wondered if Harman’s process had effectively begun slowly turning her into a lesbian.
“Are you alright?”
Abi was conscious that Olinda had pulled back and now sat above her, looking concerned. Abi looked away from Olinda’s heaving breasts, their cleavage visible from this angle, so tempting to her. Abi was bewildered: she knew her body was aroused so much by this woman. Part of her simply wanted to abandon herself to the sensation and roll over the floor toying with Olinda’s breasts and her sex. Another part of her felt she was cheating Olinda; somehow making her be unfaithful to Gail. There were thoughts too that this was wrong, not morally, Abi had no worry about who got up to what, but wrong for her. She was totally inexperienced in such sexual activity and before Harman’s interference not having been anywhere near such thoughts before, let alone the action stemming from her.
“Did that slip out unintentionally?”
“No, no, it was what I planned to say.” Abi responded.
For the first time Abi wondered if this was the reason why Harman had needed her here. Even if Gail had not died on the drive here, maybe she would have been so shaken that any thought of proposing marriage would have fled her mind. It was clearly what Olinda needed. She was looking for commitment from Gail. It was unsurprising, a scientist needed to persist day-in, day-out at the same activities whereas a fashion journalist flitted around much more. Maybe it was what Gail needed too. Yet, something on the trip would have stopped that happening and in turn would have hampered Olinda’s work. Abi wondered if Harman had been telling the whole truth and what he had fed into her were all Gail’s thoughts. Had he instead ensured there was a script of the kind he felt was necessary, and had written it into Abi’s head, along with Gail’s genuine memories. Whatever the case, Abi realised she was screwing up her lines.
“I love you, I want to be with you. Driving up here I realised what it would mean to lose you. We only have a finite time together on this world and I know I spend too much of it away from you.”
Abi gabbled, pulling in everything she had ever heard in movies that seemed to fit and then tailoring it to what she knew about this situation. It seemed to be what Olinda wanted to hear though and this time when she came in for another kiss, Abi breathed a sigh of relief. She hoped that when she got her position back Gail would be able to live up to the promises that Abi was making for her.
“There’s some pink Besserat in the car.”
That seemed to be the right thing to say too. As Olinda stepped back allowing Abi to rise from the sofa, she realised it must be some champagne. She strode quickly to the car, pleased with what she had just pulled off. The longer she was here the more she was coming to feel that Harman had not lied to her. Leading scientists might do wonders for humanity, but after all they were humans themselves and had the same insecurities and worries that could plague a shop assistant. In a couple of minutes Abi had located the champagne and was sliding it from its cool wrap. As she stepped back into the lounge she fired the cork. Olinda scrambled across the floor to stick her head beneath the foam emerging from the bottle’s neck. Abi lifted the neck a little and Olinda sat at her feet, her head raised and her mouth open as she pawed at Abi’s boots like a kitten. Abi smiled and dripped some of the champagne into Olinda’s mouth. She slurped it up with an exaggerated lick of her tongue. Abi could almost feel the sexual energy flowing from Olinda and realised how this would appear if she had watched this scene in a movie with a man and a woman.
Now Abi felt guilty. Given how aroused Olinda seemed to be, she realised that sex was going to be the only thing on the agenda and to try to dodge it would cause offence. She thought back over the different beads Harman had given her, wondering if there was one that could help her through this next challenge. She realised that the relevant one, the pink one, had already been crushed. As she ran an affectionate hand over Olinda’s head and then stepped clear of her to fetch a glass, Abi realised that the crushed pink bead had certainly taken effect. She guessed it had been the worries running through her mind up until now that had numbed her to how her body was feeling. The steps she took, wrapped so tightly in shiny clothes, drew her attention back to them. Her pussy was on fire and sodden, her nipples were trying to burst through the rubber and her whole body was so hungry to have its leather clothed partner against and inside it. Suddenly Abi felt her mind was the last element in her to get with the programme.
Abi took a single glass and poured some of the champagne into it. She trusted her tongue could keep up with Gail’s tastes. The pink shade was nice, but the rather fruity scent reminded Abi too much of sticky fizzy wine that had been forced on her at weddings. She took the glass and the bottle and walked back over to Olinda. Carefully she lowered herself to be on the rug beside her. She took a mouthful of the wine but did not swallow. The taste was good, not as sickly as she had imagined. She could get a taste for this, though Gail’s memory told her that a single bottle cost the same as Abi’s weekly grocery bill. Abi leaned into Olinda who was sat propped up on her arm. Abi felt she should at least make the effort to take the initiative. Olinda clearly welcomed it and in moments the body-warmed champagne was passing from mouth to mouth and tasting even better for it.
“Shall we take this to bed?” Olinda asked eagerly.
Abi hesitated. The kissing was not bad, pleasant even and she was coping with it. More champagne would probably blunt her concerns further, but the thought of stripping off and jumping into bed with this woman who expected Abi to act like a lover who had just proposed was a whole different issue. She knew she had to tread carefully, this was clearly an important evening coming at a time when Olinda was having issues around her work and was seeking companionship, support and fun and expecting Abi to deliver all three. Abi tried to think how she would behave with a man who she fancied but was a little uncertain with. In her experience it was he who took the lead and she who was more or less restraining. Then again, was that not what Olinda was doing now? Yet, of course, the men Abi met never seemed to have the fragility that Olinda was demonstrating or, if they did, it tended to come out as anger rather than depression.
“Sounds good.” Abi responded quickly as an idea gathered momentum. “But I’ll need fuel, it was a long drive and if we’ve got a busy night ahead of us I don’t want to flag.”
Olinda smiled and Abi was reassured she had hit the right strategy. She realised food was in fact a good idea no matter what was planned. Normally she would have been filling up on snacks at the airport by now given that she had had nothing since that morning. Hopefully, she would be able to get Olinda drunk and the sex would simply dissolve into a bit of poorly guided fumbling. It would be a new experience for Abi certainly but less of the huge leap into the dark that she felt was on the verge of facing.
“Come, I had something prepared. I didn’t know what time you’d arrive. I know you, you drive like the Devil with no thought for creature comforts.”
“You know why I race, it’s because I want to be here with you and have no desire to delay.” Abi felt that chucking in an endearing comment would do no harm.
Olinda answered with a kiss and Abi mentally patted herself on the back for having scored another success. She did wonder what she was going to do with all this experience she was gaining in how to sweet talk women. Maybe she could run a master class, a mistress class in fact, for men. Then again, was it the same for lesbians as for straight women? She guessed it probably was. If a man had told her he had driven across country for hours simply because he had wanted to spend more time with her, Abi knew she would have felt special.
Olinda stood and took Abi’s hand in hers and guided her to her feet. Hand-in-hand they walked to the large kitchen. In the centre of the extensive wooden table sat a hamper. It was wicker; of the kind Abi associated with picnics in Enid Blyton novels.
“I know the people at Kaiser’s are always reliable, they make up the best hampers for me.” Olinda said proudly.
“Yes, I remember.” Abi said as she, or rather Gail, did. “Do you remember when we went to Bayreuth? That one was a treat.”
Olinda flashed a warm smile. “Yes, yes, I do, and there was that thunderstorm on the way back. I thought we were going to come off the road and persuaded you to stop at that guesthouse. Weren’t we the only guests? That room, though, I am sure it was the one they save for the village wedding parties. I forgot that. I was going to get one of those beds. What about it? I’ll make sure we have one from when we come back from honeymoon, yes?”
“Yes, that would be great, I’d love that.”
Abi was sure Gail would. She was feeling more comfortable with Gail’s memories in her head and was learning how to dip into them as she needed. She was not certain how Gail would have viewed these things, but from Olinda’s responses she sensed that she was not hugely off track. Maybe Abi was making more commitments than Gail would have done, but possibly Gail needed to be driven in that direction, to truly face up to what was the right thing to do if she was going to hold on to the woman she loved. Abi felt a little proud of herself. She realised she liked Olinda and was enjoying spending time with her. It would be such a pity to see her slide into depression, certainly if, through her actions, she could avert it. Now Abi began to see herself as doing an intervention on Gail’s behalf, taking the reins to get her life back on track for the future happiness of both herself and Olinda. There were worse ways to spend an evening.
“Take that handle.” Olinda commanded and Abi did.
The two of them carried the heavy hamper up the broad stairs and a short way along the corridor rather awkwardly. Abi had the rest of the champagne in her other hand, Olinda the glasses in hers. The bedroom door was opened using elbows and knees. It took time, but then they were inside. Abi felt a tingle of excitement run down her spine. The room was old fashioned, with heavy wood panelling that must have been there for a century. A huge wooden bed sat in the middle of the room and matching cabinets around. One door, Gail knew, led to the walk-in wardrobe stocked with the sexiest clothes and boots and the other to the en-suite bathroom with its circular bath which could easily accommodate both her and Olinda. Abi laughed to herself as she contrasted what she was coming to know about this place with the dull hotel room she had spent the past three nights in.
Olinda did not lead them to the bed, rather she put the hamper down in front of the large wooden chest which sat at its foot. She scurried round to fetch cushions from the two bowl chairs by the window and the lintel itself. In moments she had made a cosy nest on the floor. Abi lowered herself down to it and began pouring more champagne whilst Olinda threw open the hamper. Inside was a typical German picnic, lots of sausage and sliced meat, gherkins and pickled cabbage, dark rye bread and rolls. Abi had had some similar things at the conference, but knew Gail liked them even more.
Soon they were tucking into the food, then the torte and chocolates which followed. Abi made sure she kept Olinda’s glass constantly full as they talked about their trips to Bayreuth and Weimar; Prague, Cracow, St. Petersburg, Florence and Venice. Abi had never visited these places but at each of Olinda’s comments warm memories of them filled her mind. They seemed so authentic that Abi wondered what it would be like when Harman came and took Gail’s memories back, would she still have echoes of them in her mind or would these thoughts be entirely taken away?
By now Abi and Olinda were lounging on the cushions feeding each other strawberries and chocolates. A break came in the conversation and she realised that if she was with a man this would have been the point when they decided whether things would become sexual or she got a taxi home. Yet, that option was not available. This was not a man she had recently encountered, she was lying here with the woman who knew her body intimately from making love to it over a number of years; the woman to whom she had earlier proposed. Abi realised that she had no options, she was going to have to have sex with Olinda or bring down all the good work she had done in an instant.
“Are you ready to play?” Olinda asked with a sly smile.
Abi swallowed apprehensively, but knew there was only one answer possible. “Erm, yes. What, er, shall we play?”
From Gail’s memories, Abi knew that Olinda was a ‘switch’. The term that was so alien to Abi, now came so easily and was soon followed by ‘dom’ and ‘sub’. Abi had heard the word ‘dominatrix’, who could avoid it in these sexualised times, but had not seen past a rather distorted image from seedy cards in London telephone boxes. The sense that it could define a woman’s sexuality seemed something so different to what she knew, but she recognised too, that it was intriguing, exciting even, though she put a lot of that down to Gail’s memories. Exploring memories of Olinda, Abi came to know that she liked to be dominant when things, especially her work, were frustrating or she hit a dead end. At such times she sought to be in control. When it was going well and people were reading her results, interviewing her in the media, then she loved Gail to take control to bring down her ego and shackle it, quite literally, reminding her of quite what she was worthy. Gail had similar desires, her own work had ups and downs and she sought the counter-balance in sex, though it did mean that sometime they could end up as two dominatrices wrestling for the whip or two subs chaining themselves as fellow slaves for an unseen mistress.
“I was thinking that a new young lady may be arriving at St. Ursula’s this evening and will need showing around by the head girl. Had you heard that?” Olinda asked.
For a moment Abi hesitated wondering what Olinda was going on about. Then gradually things came to mind. This was the opening gambit from Olinda to suggest a particular sexual role play. St. Ursula’s was the imaginary college for young ladies, all lesbians of course, that the two of them had conjured up. They played different roles within it depending on their mood. They might be two newcomers discovering their true sexuality as they sheltered from a storm in the summer house or one might be a teacher or, if Olinda was particularly frustrated with her work, then she would be headmistress chastising, though ultimately falling for, a defiant or a demure student. The fact that Olinda was seeking to play a senior role as head girl, reminded Abi, or those memories that she had borrowed from Gail did, that her lover was stressed, not its worst, but that she needed outlet for the frustrations she had encountered.
“Yes, I’m that young lady. How fortunate that we’ve encountered each other here at the station. My name is Elisabeth. This is my first day at St. Ursula’s. My step-mother has sent me here to finish my education.”
Olinda smiled broadly and Abi was happy that she had hit on the right approach.
“I am Sabina, head girl. I always make an effort to welcome the newcomers. Especially when they are as pretty as you. Come, it’s a bit of a walk to the college. You’ll come to love the castle where it’s housed. So many strong women have come to St. Ursula’s.”
“Thank you, erm, Sabina.”
Abi felt herself getting into the role, painting a verbal picture of her character and the setting around them. Olinda rose and Abi went to stand beside her as if they were walking to the castle.
“The first thing we must do is get you changed into the St. Ursula’s uniform.”
“Is it like what you’re wearing?” Abi tried to sound wide-eyed and curious.
“No these are my day off clothes, but I’ll also change, so you can see what it should look like when you dress properly.”
Abi remembered the ‘uniform’ and followed Olinda into the walk-in wardrobe. Hanging apart from the rails of leather, vinyl and rubber clothes and the numerous boots beneath them were two leather corsets accompanied by plain leather thigh boots. Given what she was currently wearing these did not seem extreme.
“Change in here Elisabeth and I will see you outside shortly.”
“Yes, Sabina.”
Olinda collected her own set of clothes. “And don’t forget the ribbon for your neck.”
“Yes, Sabina, thank you, Sabina.”
Olinda left the wardrobe and Abi ran her eyes over the clothes she was to wear. She had to confess that this role play did add a little something. Maybe it was the novelty of yielding power, not in the way she usually had to when the man took the lead, but in more of a controlled, sophisticated way. She felt the return of the tingle in her pussy. If this was to be her first sexual encounter with a woman, she thought, she might as well try and enjoy it. Though it still felt a little peculiar, this kind of extended foreplay was softening her up to what she was sure would happen. Digging among Gail’s memories had provided her with a range of activities lesbians indulged in, and even more importantly what Olinda enjoyed. Abi’s one concern was whether her tongue was strong enough for what she might be called upon to do.
For now though she unzipped her catsuit. It was odd how comfortable she had felt in it. As she exposed her naked body to the cooler air it tingled more and she found her pussy was already very excited and totally wet. She sat on the stool and unzipped her boots, realising she was reluctant to be giving them up. The delight in these clothes had crept up on her unexpectedly. Then again, she consoled herself, the leather corsets and boots that made up St. Ursula’s uniform had similar attractions. In minutes she was naked then she turned to the corset. Fortunately it had a series of clips across the front so it was easy to put on. However, as she wrapped it across her back and tried to pull it closed at the front she worried Olinda had left her the wrong size or that she had a few more inches on Gail. Then she realised its constriction was the point and part of its attraction. Abi breathed in and brought the two sides together. Then she closed the clips and stood admiring the profile it gave her. Her breasts and torso were encased in smooth black leather and it felt wonderful. The constriction meant her breaths were shallow and the light headedness that provided simply added to the sensation. She took the black silk ribbon from the hanger and tied it snugly around her neck.
In moments Abi was sliding her legs into the long leather boots. They barely crested her knee. Abi knew she had worn, well Gail had worn, longer and tighter ones, but there was something elegant about these. Abi ran her fingers the full length from the needle heels up to where the boots widened at the base of her thigh. She liked the sensation of her legs sealed into the leather and the knowledge that their form and their heels would make her hips and bum wiggle so sexily with every step she took. Abi rose. She took as deep a breath as she could and walked towards the door. She hesitated at it for a moment. The whole of this afternoon and evening was like something from a dream, fantastical and only at times within her control. Now she realised how well she had risen to the challenge. She had succeeded in passing herself off as someone else through an intimate inspection. She had been able to convince a difficult judge that she was an exciting, strong, sexually aware and mature woman. All of these characteristics had been absent in her life. For a moment she felt she could not really be too critical of Harman. He might have been working to his own agenda but Abi recognised she had not come out of this too badly.
Abi opened the door and stepped back into the bedroom. On the opposite side of the bed Olinda was lounging back on the sofa. Her black leather boots and corset matched Abi’s. Along her boots she was slowly running a whip back and forth. Unlike Abi, Olinda wore fishnet stockings above them and her arms were encased in opera gloves stretching well beyond her elbows. A shiny metal necklace almost like a collar was around her neck. Abi walked slowly towards her, trying to exude a feeling of being sensuous. She still felt both a little unfamiliar, yet accustomed to, moving in thigh-length boots with such heels.
“Excellent Elisabeth, stop there. Now I have you in the college’s uniform, you look so much better.” Olinda drew out the words languorously though her eyes ran eagerly over Abi’s body, clearly excited.
Olinda rose slowly from the sofa and walked over to where Abi stood. Standing in front of Abi she wrapped her gloved arms across each other around Abi’s waist. Then she shot a glance towards the wall and Abi, following that gaze, realising why she had been positioned here as she looked at the mirror to see both her and Olinda’s faces reflected. She looked at herself thinking how incredible it was that in the past few hours her life had changed so much. By now, if the flight had not been delayed, she should have been letting herself back into her flat in London and slumping on the sofa or in the bath to recover from the trip. Instead she had been exposed to a whole new world of lesbian switches role-playing students, dressing in tight leathers. It was so incredible that if it were not for the gentle pressure of Olinda’s skin against her own, the sound of her breath in her ear and the scent of her aroused body, then Abi would have sworn she was dreaming.
“You are dressed so appropriately my Elisabeth but this is only the beginning of the lessons. Will you be a good student, Elisabeth?”
“Yes, erm, Mistress Sabina.”
“Are you sure? Wouldn’t you rather be naughty sometimes?”
“I’d like to please you.”
Abi spoke honestly. Despite the injection of Gail’s sexuality into her consciousness, she was beginning to have increasing doubts about what she was doing. She was now so out of her depth, there seemed to be no sign of shore. Yet, she knew this role play and the sex that was no doubt going to follow, were important to Olinda, and may be the vital thing to get her back to work. Initially after he had made her black out and dressed her as Gail, Abi had come to doubt the story Harman had told her. Now, though, ironically, the more she was getting to know Olinda the more accurate it seemed. There was a lot to admire in Olinda, but talent came at a price, uncertainties and loss of faith were often what stopped a genius becoming an egotist or a dictator. Abi thought of the people she knew, family and friends who were married and wondered if their relationships were as complex as the one she was currently visiting. She could see why it appealed to Gail, she was loved and needed, there was an important function for her being with someone who mattered both to her personally and more broadly to society. Though Olinda may play the dominatrix there was nothing in Gail’s memories to suggest she tried to suppress her partner or her ambitions. In fact, her hesitancy at talking of co-habitation implied she had had not been pressing to tie Gail down, well, not in the metaphorical meaning, only in the literal sense. Abi’s attention came back to the room. She wondered if it was tiredness or the effects of Harman’s process, which, she realised up to now she had had an unchallenged faith in, were the cause of her thoughts drifting so much.
“An excellent answer. Well I like toys and to play with my toys, sometimes roughly. You, Elisabeth, will become the head girl’s doll, to do with as she wishes. Do you understand?”
Abi nodded vigorously. Olinda seemed to enjoy Abi’s demure, nervous manner, with hints of coyness. Probably she took them to be role play, whereas in fact they truly reflected Abi’s concerns as she realised she was about to embark on her first bondage and sado-masochist session. As she thought that, the word ‘edifice’ came to mind. It seemed a bizarre thought, but probing it, Abi realised this was the ‘safe word’ Gail and Olinda used, the instant panic button whenever they role played. Abi almost laughed thinking that she was finding out so many things that she had never really even considered existing. She certainly knew that back in her own world and her old life, she would never perceive or understand things in the same way again. For an instant she wondered if that had been Harman’s real game: that Olinda had never been in danger it was simply the old man wanted to see a librarian plunged into this exotic life. Yet, too much of his story stood up. She guessed with his focus on the big picture he neglected to consider the impact on the pawns in his games.
“Well, I feel I need to put my new doll on display so that I can admire her properly. Turn and face the wall. Raise your hands up and spread your legs.”
Abi obeyed and was curious what was to happen next. From the click of her heels she could tell Olinda was walking away. Then she heard the lid of one of the chests open and something metal being pulled out. She guessed this was going to be her introduction to bondage. She realised though, that it held no fears for her. She trusted Olinda now, enough to be shackled by her. Abi guessed some of that stemmed from Gail’s perceptions, but she was coming to feel, that she, Abi, also trusted Olinda. She guessed that even if she tried, there was no way, back in her world she could get to meet such a leading scientist, even if she was still alive, but Abi was curious to find out more about Olinda Farber when she got back. For the moment, she had more pressing tasks. She heard Olinda returning and then stop. Moments later Abi felt something constricting around her right ankle. She looked down to see a stainless steel shackle, lined with soft leather being locked into place. Then Olinda’s hands spread Abi’s legs a little further and the second shackle closed. This was a ‘spreader bar’, another term Gail’s memories introduced her to.
At first Abi felt worried, she had never been chained or cuffed, but as the moments passed she realised there was something exciting about this. Now there was no way she could refuse any of Olinda’s sexual advances, her bare pussy was open to intimate attack. She felt Olinda’s warm breath coming up from beneath her, then, so deliciously, the touch of her gloved fingers as they ran gently along Abi’s pussy lips. Abi wanted more, this was good, but Olinda refused her for the moment. Abi sensed her stand and then felt her breath by her cheek.
“My darling, Elisabeth, you are such a good girl, but I need to see you properly on display.” Olinda whispered before placing a gentle kiss on Abi’s naked shoulder.
Then Abi felt one wrist clasped and gave out a gasp, partly of surprise, partly of pleasure. She was enjoying this game. Though she knew much of that pleasure derived from Gail’s thoughts on the matter, Abi did wonder how much of it came from her own feelings. After all Gail could not have simply developed all her kinks in the past seven years; from what Abi had heard most came from further back in one’s life than that. Maybe given different circumstances such games would have become what Abi herself would have enjoyed.
Olinda pulled Abi’s wrist down to the small of her back and locked a handcuff, padded like the shackles, firmly to it. Abi did not struggle as her other was brought down to join it. As the second cuff closed with a crunch Abi suddenly felt weak. She had the sensation of powder trickling over her wrist, then she stumbled and blackness took her.
“Angel, Angel, Gail, are you alright?”
Gail blinked open her eyes, she felt peculiar. Her mind seemed to be a blur of thoughts and images. She calmed herself and looked around. The ceiling was familiar, this had to be Olinda’s bedroom, and the voice was indeed that of her lover. The freshest memory was standing by the roadside admiring the view, thinking about how quickly she could get her car into that valley and whether she could beat her record. Things seemed to come after that yet somehow more distant. Her stomach felt full so she guessed the memory of the meal was accurate.
“Marriage?” Gail voiced the thought which was coming strongly in her mind.
“You’re alright.” Olinda said joyfully. She was sat on the bed next to Gail.
“Erm, yes, I think so. I felt strange.”
“Do you remember, we were playing new girl at St. Ursula’s and you passed out? You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”
Olinda’s comment seemed to fit with the dim memories. Gail propped herself up on her elbows and saw she was still in her St. Ursula’s uniform. The thought that nagged her was a memory of proposing to Olinda. Was that possible? Gail had been burnt in the past and was not eager to be tied down, but maybe this incident was telling her to wise up and see that she had found the right woman; the one.
“I remember proposing to you.” Gail said speculatively.
Olinda brimmed as broadly as a child seeing its Christmas presents. “Well, I’m glad you’ve remembered the most important thing of today. I trust the proposal still stands.”
Gail hesitated, testing the thought, but some voice in her mind, it sounded like her own, but somehow different, told her she was a fool to pass up this opportunity, a shot at lifelong happiness.
“Of course. Kiku, marry me.”
Olinda lent in and the two women dissolved into kisses.
Epilogue
John Harman sat in the café at Düsseldorf airport. Three German newspapers lay on the table in front of him. From his pocket he produced a small pair of scissors and proceeded to clip an article out of each of them. From the first, priced in euros he took a cutting about the ongoing search for a British librarian who had apparently disappeared returning from a conference two weeks earlier. The librarian’s car had been found abandoned at Düsseldorf airport, but there were no other clues. He looked a little uneased by that, one would say, almost as if some plan of his had been thwarted. The second newspaper, priced in marks had a report about the miraculous recovery of the fashion journalist Gail Powell who had been thought to be close to death following a terrible car accident. She had been visited by a priest in the night to give the last rites but had come round in the morning, apparently dazed but showing marked signs of improvement. Gail’s close friend, Dr. Olinda Farber was quoted at length about the improvement.
The other newspaper, this one oddly priced in crowns, held the announcement of the forthcoming marriage of Dr. Olinda Farber, the leading viral scientist, to Gail Powell, the renowned fashion journalist. The couple planned to wed in London the following Spring. That brought a smile to his lips. Another article in the same ‘paper mentioned Farber’s name in connection with a break-through in medical research, but Harman did not bother with that one, he had already read the scholarly journal comments on what was being achieved. Folding his newspapers he glanced at his watch. There was an hour before his flight to St. Petersburg, well, the St. Petersburg he planned to start in before he headed to another and ultimately to Trotskigrad. For now though, this set of plans were complete and an hour was more than enough time for another coffee before he began the active phase of his next project.
THE END.
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