equipment and restraints she had passed on the way in. Coming up the stairs at the same time were Cherry and the client who had wanted to tie Hazel to a chair.
Suddenly possessed by an imp of misguided mischief, Hazel boldly confronted the pair.
“Oh!” said she, “it’s that handsome man from the parlor with the fascinating fantasy. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to trade partners with me?” This last remark was addressed directly to Cherry.
“Huh?” said the girl.
“Mr. C. is just a spanking session,” said Hazel, then added with sudden inspiration, “and a very good tipper.” She had no idea whether the girls ever received tips at the club, but had noted Robert’s generosity to their waitress at The Ivy and assumed that his spanking surrogates would also benefit from his largess. “And, I’ve never been tied up in all my life,” she aimed this provocative comment at the client, who was, of course, in favor of Hazel from the start, not only because of her beauty, but because of the outfit she wore.
“Are you sure it’s okay with your master?” Cherry queried cautiously.
“Oh, he’s not my master,” Hazel laughed.
“Let’s do it!” the client suddenly said, grabbing Hazel by the hand and pulling her into the red dungeon known as “Munchausen” because of the Edvard Munch vampire reproductions on the walls.
Hazel’s heart was pounding violently as the client closed the door – on which there was no lock – behind them and explained what he wanted.
Hazel was extremely shocked that the door did not burst open one, two or three minutes later to reveal a highly irritated Robert, but Hazel and her mock rapist were left alone to play undisturbed.
The session was easy and instructive. First Hazel demanded to examine the contents of the gym bag he’d brought into the dungeon. It held only some neatly coiled white nylon rope. Then the man began to interview her, as though she were a job applicant. She had no trouble adapting to this role. Then suddenly, as she was framing an answer to his second or third bland question, he sprang at her and simply pushed her shoulders back against the chair.
Hazel looked at him in great surprise and tried to seem frightened, though the big teddy bear of a man inspired anything but apprehension in her bosom.
He pulled four equal lengths of white nylon rope out of his bag and quickly tied her wrists to the chair frame behind her and her ankles to its legs. Her a-line skirt allowed her legs to be spread. The man made no motion to gag her, and she began to make token protests against the assault. The man said nothing, but breathed heavily as he unbuttoned the three chunky buttons, which topped her dress and exposed the upper portion of her bosom in its lacy bra. He barely touched her breasts, but seemed to admire them greatly as his large cock came out of his pants and into his hand.
Presently the man exposed the tops of Hazel’s gartered stockings, by pulling her skirt up as promised. Still he tugged on his thickening penis, mesmerized by her beauty as she wriggled and strained in the chair without disturbing her bonds in the slightest.
“I insist you release me at once! These ropes are very tight!” Hazel cried, seventeen minutes into the session and completely caught up in her captor’s passion. Her phrasing gave the rope man joy and the organ in his grip began to gush a liquid tribute to her charms.
She waited patiently to be untied, which was accomplished in a moment. The client then fell to his knees beside her and respectfully kissed the back of her hand.
“You’re adorable, wonderful!” he told her, pressing forty dollars into her hand. In less than two minutes Hazel was downstairs in the main parlor looking for Robert.
Hildegarde, the young mistress of the house, was there with Cherry and both appeared full of concern for their creative new guest. Hildegarde was a strapping auburn-haired Valkyrie of 25, flush with beauty, warmth and wit.
“Okay, gorgeous, here’s the story,” said Hildegarde, putting her arms around Hazel’s shoulders, “he’s left and he’s mad.”
“Left? But didn’t he play with Cherry?” Hazel had expected anything but being abandoned at the house.
“Actually, he declined that pleasure,” said Hildegarde wryly, comparing the proud carriage and elegant demeanor of her guest with the squeezable cuteness of her employee. “Though he did provide her with allowance to assuage her disappointment at missing a session with “Ken the Rapist”.”
“I guess this belongs to you too,” said Hazel, proffering the forty dollars Ken had given her.
“No, sweetheart, that’s your tip. And here’s $30 from the house,” Hildegarde said, handing Hazel the additional allowance.
“But I didn’t do it for the money,” Hazel protested.
“You’re going to need cab fare,” Hildegarde reminded her. Just then the phone rang and Cherry ran for it. She looked at them immediately with excitement and covering the receiver said, “It’s Robert. He’s calling from his car. He wants to know if she’s still here.”
Hazel ran for the phone with a painfully throbbing heart.
“Robert?”
There was a tangible silence. She repeated his name and he finally spoke.
“I’ve been driving around trying to figure out whether you’re crazy, stupid or the most recklessly promiscuous girl I’ve ever met.”
“Stupid is the correct answer,” she replied in all humility. “I was just being cute. I never thought you’d let me go through with it. Then once it started, it didn’t seem convenient to stop until it was over.”
“Is that an excuse or an apology?”
“A most abject apology!” she declared, sensing him soften imperceptibly.
“Good, because there can be no possible logical reason for what you did.”
“I know. Now that I think about it, it makes no sense even to me. But all the same, I wish you would come and pick me up.”
“You’ve got money in your pocket, take a cab home!” he hung up huffily. Hazel sighed and put down the phone.
“I really can’t explain why I did it,” Hazel confessed to Hildegarde as Cherry was made to call the cab. “Except as a way of being a brat.”
“You want to watch that sort of thing with someone like Robert. I’ve observed that he’s not a patient man,” Hildegarde said. “Where did he find you anyway?”
“I work for him. I’m his most junior editor.”
Just then there was a honk outside the window. Cherry bounced over and reported that Robert was waiting outside in his BMW convertible.
“Would you cancel the cab for me?” Hazel asked Hildegarde in a rush as she ran out the door to the street. He opened the door from the inside and said nothing when she got in. Hazel was afraid that he would take her straight home and her heart was pounding violently as they turned up Laurel Canyon Boulevard and began to climb into the hills instead. After turning off the heavily wooded canyon road and threading their way up a series of steep, narrow
