Threshold of Initiation

Literotic asexstories – Threshold of Initiation by GrahamThompson,GrahamThompson
Threshold of Initiation

A certain Ms. E. G. and Mr. P. have made assumptions and taken for granted that I am prepared to be their Mentor. They need to convince me of their worthiness.

A task to be completed.

Erica Grover precisely walked her four inch heeled shoes at a slow pace. Feeling very conspicuous, she had no intention of becoming the fool who toppled to twist an ankle. The black patent leather flashed sneering reflections up her stockinged legs goading her to stumble and rent her through buttoned skirt. Summer sun had risen early, already warming tarmac and awnings of the open marketplace. Stomach churned and mind fought to calm inner qualms as she wrestled with purpose of the day. Twisting strap of black leather shoulder bag with both hands, she mused the inner dual as errant euphoria jousted illicit guilt.

The e-mailed instruction had been to travel by train to the chosen town and undertake a series of challenges that would be disclosed throughout the morning.

Of good deportment, Erica’s five feet seven upright posture emphasised her 36G breasts but drew only minimal inspection as she strolled amongst the open-market stalls. Owl-like stare, emphasised by round-framed Gucci sunglasses, framed with Chestnut dyed blonde hair, suggested prim governess. Her lace decorated white silk blouse, tucked into broad belted denim skirt, contradicted such assumption as the clothes caressed her undulating body.

Stallholders gave scant attention to the few pedestrians, meandering amongst variously displayed wares. They supped refreshment, in anticipation of forthcoming business from buyers, imbibed with heat penetrating rays of sunshine.

Weeks of planning had achieved today’s rendezvous. From booking holiday entitlement to making this early morning train journey, all arrangements had been surreptitiously organised. Deceptions had been orchestrated for work colleagues, friends, especially Pearce her partner. All lies that, hopefully, could not be traced and exposed. She mulled justification for her behaviour whilst continuing the circuit of stalls. Thus distracted, Erica was hardly aware of having stopped at the book stand.

Her eyes suddenly focused on the C5 white envelope, face up across antiquarian book spines. Her name, in bold print, stared up at her. The envelope trembled in her trembling fingers. The stall vendor was huddled in conversation with others. There were no other people in close proximity. Message courier could not be identified.

Turning from the books and tearing open the envelope, “So the journey begins.” Erica blurted aloud before realising. Embarrassment hastily clicked her heals away.

Sanctuary of the public toilets calmed her to study the card from inside its envelope:

_________________________________________________________________________

YOU HAVE TWO MINUTES IN WHICH TO REMOVE YOUR KNICKERS AND ALL UNDERGARMENTS FROM BELOW YOUR WAISTLINE.

—–

WALK DIRECTLY TO THE TOWN GARDENS

ACT UPON INSTRUCTION AT TOP RIGHT CORNER OF INFORMATION BOARD AT ENTRANCE

PENALTY FOR INCORRECT INTERPRETATION. DELAY WILL INCUR PENALTY.

_________________________________________________________________________

The message was disconcerting. Surely her fastidious sanitary hygiene was known? Embarrassment of bodily odours being detected by others and fear of involvement in an accident. Now forty three years old, yet her mother’s words, “Always be sure to wear clean knickers, in case you are rushed to hospital.” still echoed in her mind. Erica recognised the test of her commitment but minutes passed before she drew fully upright with a deep breath and entered a vacant cubicle.

Aware that hesitancy had delayed the schedule, she hastened her gait toward the next instruction. The pace wafted cool air, her knickers now in her shoulder bag, emphasising naked sensation around her crotch. Office workers and mothers escorting children bustled past, intent on their own timetables with no glances to spare for blushing cheeks that signalled her discomfort. A large map of park landmarks confronted her entrance into the gardens but no clue was attached to any part of the board. Peering about in consternation, she spotted a white card trying to flutter free of its taped capture to a glass fronted notice board on the actual entrance gate. It had to be for her. Who else would understand?

_________________________________________________________________________

UNDO AT LEAST HALF THE BUTTONS FROM HEM TO WAIST OF SKIRT

—

PROCEED TO BANDSTAND AND SIT IN MIDDLE OF FRONT ROW

PENALTY FOR INCORRECT INTERPRETATION. DELAY WILL INCUR PENALTY.

_________________________________________________________________________

Leaving the entrance in the signed direction Erica tried to nonchalantly release lowest three of the seven skirt buttons. Her stomach was now cramping as her body became more vulnerable. Sidling down the sloped path to reach the bandstand she approached the front row of seats. Deckchairs! Counting twelve in the row she selected sixth from her left knowing that perching buttocks into hammock cloth would tilt her into even more vulnerable exposure.

No other person came near the bandstand but Erica clenched her knees as tight as muscles could achieve. She forced thighs against the seat, ensuring the slightest peak under her skirt was impossible. Heat was generating in her area of modesty. Fact that she wore hold-up stockings gave little sanctuary because without grasping the unbuttoned skirt closed, bare fleshed thigh would be exposed to view. Minutes ticked past like hours before a sweet infant toddled up, almost tripping another C5 white envelope into her lap before tottering over to a woman who was unknown to Erica.

This envelope contained nothing to ease growing trepidation:

_________________________________________________________________________

STAND UPRIGHT WITH FEET SHOULDER WIDTH APART

UNTUCK BLOUSE AND RELEASE ALL BUTTONS BELOW CLEAVAGE

—

CONTINUE THROUGH PARK AND EXIT BY NORTH GATE

USE ZEBRA CROSSINGS AT ROUNDABOUT TO REACH TOP-O-TOWN CAR PARK

—

COLLECT ENVELOPE FROM CAFE TELLER

PENALTY FOR INCORRECT INTERPRETATION. DELAY WILL INCUR PENALTY.

_________________________________________________________________________

Rising from the deckchair was not achieved elegantly. Legs had to be spread but unbuttoned skirt did enable Erica to maintain balance and stand upright at her third attempt. Hastily setting off around the bandstand, she cursed foolhardiness for exposing herself to unknown trials whilst heated abdomen greeted cooling breeze with avid anticipation. Her mind played coward whilst bodily reactions begged erotica. Traipsing up through the rose twined arbour she teased blouse from skirt to straighten the creased length down over hips. Handbag buffeted freedom with blouse buttons but eventually all was back under her control. Only one button truly remained above bra cleavage but she chose to leave two closed, avoiding exposure of half-cup brassiere to voyeurs.

People were now awake to enjoy their leisure, which ensured attention being given to Erica’s progress, along her quarter mile route out of the gardens. Focusing on the gate of destination, trying to ignore sidelong glances and blatant stares, she concentrated on striking a gait that caused least sway or bounce of her body. Of course the more she tried, the less successful any result. Bouncing thirty six ‘G’ breasts soon had her forcing shoulders back to strain material straps tight enough for cups to prevent flesh escaping. Reaching her goal Erica rested against a gate post, attempting composure into unity. Her mind screamed flee and hide whilst her body oozed arousal. Breathlessness was only in part due to physical exertion of her quickened pace.

Settling into a calmer gait she walked the remainder of her instructions. Choosing the town location had been because she was both familiar with its geography yet confident of its distance being far enough from home to elude accidental confrontation with familiar faces. Nonetheless, risk heightened awareness to an already aroused body. Face alive, heart thumping, blood flushed skin down neck. Nipples puncturing bra to grasp blouse. Stomach contorted concave providing less resistance against gravity for waistband and belt. Commonsense told her public interest had no inkling of heightened awareness but the inner woman could not ignore reactions of naked crotch.

Despite combat between sensuous bodily need and sober mental reasoning, the cafe steps were soon climbed. Slippery inner thighs confirmed aroma of arousal that nostrils scented. Messages of longing provoked grumbling stomach contractions. Fear bloated the contrived exhibitionism, making her almost swoon for reviving air. Physical sickness threatened to overpower desperate resolve as she pushed through the cafe door. Erica made an unsteady approach to the counter, convinced her sexual juices could not be ignored by every patron she wafted past. The aproned man of indeterminate age stared (she imagined a smirk behind his beard) at her unbuttoned front.

“Please,” she began embarrassedly, “please do you have an envelope for me?”

“You would be?” his focus did not alter.

“Er..” She stopped. “Erica Grover.”

“Oh!” He sounded disappointed. Dragging his eyes to beside the till he proffered another of the, now familiar, C5 white envelopes.

“Thank you,” she gushed, hastily turning to escape encroaching oppression.

Eyes followed her out and across the car park. Not just the “smirking man” she felt the whole building had ogled her parted blouse and gaping skirt. Everyone seemed to sniff at her escaping body. Once again Erica sought refuge in public toilets. These conveniences held sour air of overuse but she had to use a cubicle, had to squat and freely explode over the stainless steel bowl. Completing ablutions did not relieve the knots and aches within. Solar plexus felt like an injured punch bag, swollen labia mimicked an overripe peach, breasts pulsed as nipples almost vibrated aloud with the energy they exerted against the restraining brassiere. She found deep breathing difficult. This was awful. Never had she; been anything other than respectably dressed, behaved in such lewd manner, experienced gut wrenching fear, known such base sexual awareness. Finally she opened the envelope to reveal its instructions.

_________________________________________________________________________

IN NORTH-WEST CORNER IS A SILVER M.P.V. WITH OBSCURED REAR WINDOWS

W364 JFX

OPEN THE NEARSIDE REAR DOOR

SIT UPON THE DESIGNATED SEAT

SLAM THE DOOR SHUT

—

WAIT

DO NOT SPEAK

OBEY INSTRUCTIONS INSTANTLY

PENALTY FOR INCORRECT INTERPRETATION. DELAY WILL INCUR PENALTY.

_________________________________________________________________________

It was a hesitant woman who reappeared into the brilliant glare of sunshine. The foreboding vehicle crouched ready to pounce on unsuspecting innocence. She knew retreat was close to being unavailable. Stealing her mind with resolve Erica acquiesced to her bodies clamour. She was alongside the van, hand upon door handle before she became fully conscious of her determination. It was she who had asked for this. Plotted and connived to position herself for such manipulation. Willingly agreed date, time and rendezvous. Goodness, she was scared.

Tugging the handle, it took time to realise she had to slide the door rearwards for it to open. One seat patiently awaited, surrounded on three sides by cardboard from floor to roof. A moment paused before she stepped up, in, sat down, slammed the door shut. Then panic. Not checking registration plate could mean this was the wrong vehicle. Nothing showed her any clue that she was in the right place. Wouldn’t another of those envelopes have been left, with more instructions for her?

The engine started; vibration hummed through her seat. Clawing at the door, she had to get out, check, reconsider, call-it-off. The door refused to budge. They were moving. Gliding between rows of vehicles. Pausing at the exit.

“Hello!” She pushed against cardboard that merely bounced back at her. “Stop! Who are you? Where are we going? Please, say something!”

There was no response, no reply, nothing. Erica Grover was being kidnapped!

Erica sat in stupefied disbelief as they wended through town congestion. They joined arterial roads before the vehicle began a cross country trek and settled into a comfortable rhythm. Combination of steady pace and scenic views calmed her palpitations and she spent the journey reviewing how she had ended in this predicament.

Erica was Marketing Consultant of a medium sized company. Interests of her ‘hubby’ Pearce had crossed paths with Graham Thompson a freelance writer. This led to regular discussions between the three of them, when shared interests were discovered. Erica’s sense of comfortable trust, admitting interest in experiencing forced control, had prompted the present scenario. She was both enjoying the anticipation whilst fearing how developing events were beyond her control.

Slowing speed, manoeuvring of the m.p.v., awakened Erica from her review. As the vehicle reversed to a halt, she looked out against a lattice timber fence. Minutes passed before another envelope slipped through a slit in corner of the cardboard shuttering. The driver was heard to leave, by slam of front door. Fear stirred anticipation as she tore the typed card from its envelope.

_________________________________________________________________________

UNDO ALL REMAINING BUTTONS OF SKIRT AND BLOUSE

EXIT AND WALK AROUND VEHICLE

CROSS FOOTBRIDGE

ENTER COTTAGE AND CLOSE DOOR

PENALTY FOR INCORRECT INTERPRETATION. DELAY WILL INCUR PENALTY.

_________________________________________________________________________

Sliding open her door, stepping into the space between vehicle and fence, revealed a box hedge preventing rearward progress. Cautiously walking forward then round to the other side of her transport gained view of old workers cottages. Trees isolated this terrace from surrounding houses. A trickling stream had gorged a chasm to segregate cottages from lane. A narrow timber bridge proffered humped access to a path serving the row. One door gawped wide open, daring her to approach the farthest cottage. Erica accepted this was her only remaining opportunity for reconsideration, to run, escape, avoid physical knowledge pain. Would it be pleasurable or torture?

She stepped over the bridge and was walking toward the open door before starting to loosen any buttons. One last pause, undoing the final button for skirt to sag open, stockinged legs and bosom filled bra led the way over the threshold.

Closing the door shut out light, heat, seeming to stifle airflow. Spine tingled and chilled, lungs pained, heart pummelled ribs, Erica leaned forehead to door as giddiness tilted balance.

“Choose a number between nought and twelve. And I don’t advise selecting either extreme.” The stertorous voice demanded.

Shock; at hearing such mechanical words, rather than the expected dulcet tones of a masculine voice, delayed her response.

“Well?”

“Uh, oh, five?”

“How many seconds in a minute?”

“That’s, that is sixty!”

“You used more than three hundred and sixty seconds to carry out the first instruction.”

“Did I? Uhmm, I’m sorry.”

“Calculate and tell me exactly what half of seven equals.”

“Three, no three-and-a-half.”

“Now, of the seven buttons on your skirt you only undid three when AT LEAST HALF means four. Plus, stockings are considered an undergarment yet they STILL adorn your legs.”

“I’m sorry.” was all she could manage to whisper.

“So remove them. Instantly!”

Slipping shoes off feet, she rolled first left then right stocking down her legs to form quoits, before pulling them off her feet. The denim skirt hung by its belt loops exposing blonde pubic hair and stomach to the chill air.

“Leave the shoes. There was not one instruction completed correctly therefore you will pay penalties. Each penalty carries a total of twelve lashes. Five tasks conducted both incorrectly and with delay amounts to ten times twelve.”

She whimpered at thought of her body taking one hundred and twenty lashes. Even as stomach churned and sphincter muscles spasmed, her nipples hardened and vagina opened.

Remove your glasses.”

Erica had forgotten the sunglasses, pushed atop her hair when she entered the m.p.v. She panicked as the glasses were pulled from her ears.

“Turn ninety degrees right.”

Now obedient for fear of injury she shuffled as instructed. Light blasted her face as a door opened wide. Prodding to her back coaxed her forward into light and warmth. Direction to unbuckle her belt left blouse caressing hips, exposing flatteringly firm stomach and lower flesh to view.

“Climb the staircase. Remove your blouse. Find a hidden stairway and climb that. Remove your brassiere. Place ankles in straps on floor and wrists through loops from ceiling. You have five minutes.”

The door had been shut before she was able to view her perpetrator. Half-cup bra rounded breasts to peek up from the open blouse. Polished wood floor and Dralon soft furniture made this room cosy. Blouse hem caressed her taughtened buttocks. Ancient open fired cooking range faced a spiral staircase winding up from where she stood. Curiously climbing, bare soles slapping timber treads, she arrived at a circular landing with three doors. Clitoris pulsed for attention. Directly in front, view through the ajar door glimpsed a bathroom, while door to her right opened into a bedroom with turquoise walls, thick blue carpet and large oval bed. Tautening skin pulled body hair erect, teased by blouse as it slipped from shoulders, gravity coaxing silk to the carpet. Confusion railed against arousal. Head ached with increasing pressure of pounding heart while nipples painfully strained against bra constraint and hairs plucked swelling labia.

The third door opened out, giving access to a narrow stairway that led her round and up to bare rafters of the attic. Labia lathered inner thighs from pendulous motion of stairway climbing. Rough boards braided her feet as she walked this slope ceilinged space. Sunlight glaring through a rooflight beamed onto strapping in the centre of the Toblerone shaped void. A moments indecision delayed unclipping her brassiere then, casting it to her right she stooped. As breasts swung freely, she looped straps to secure wide splayed ankles. Straightening her back, hands lifted to push through loops of ribbon suspended from the central roof truss.

As a floorboard creaked, a hood enveloped her head obliterating vision from her eyes. Inhaling a deep breath, about to shout, her lips felt tension, then a narrow band pulled cloth tight and forced her jaw open as mouth was forced to gawp around the applied gagging.

Bindings slipped tight on her wrists as they pulled her arms up and outwards, ankles undergoing similar security.

“This introduction to my world, being your first experience, requires leniency and means I shall deduct your chosen number from each penalty.”