Message-ID: <18600eli$9901212003@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: 100550_1306g@csi.com Subject: The appointment III (Vivianes further adventures, f-solo) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <75rnkh$6fk$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com> The Appointment III ©1998 by Gaucho Specks of dust were dancing in the warm beams of the afternoon sun that fell through the venetian blinds. Through the open window softly permeated waves of distant urban noise - rushing cars with an occasional horn honking, playing children, shouting housewives, barking dogs. A small fly zigzagged over Vivianes face before landing on her nose. The girl frowned in her sleep. The insect took off with a high pitched humming only to land near the ear. Viviane rose her hand to scratch the tickling caused by the flies wandering across her skin. She woke up, her head feeling dizzy like from a small hangover. Her consciousness reluctantly returned. The room around her seemed unfamiliar. Memory slowly trickled into the foggy realms of her mind. What a shame, she thought, reddening. Viviane found herself on a broad chesterfield couch underneath a woollen blanket. When she moved, the old polished leather glued to her skin. A quick glance confirmed under the cover confirmed that she was bare naked. She looked around. Now and then time seems simply to ignore one place or the other - and this was definitely one of them. The least antique piece of furniture in the room seemed to be a standard lamp, apparently from the 1950s. The air was filled with a slight scent of wax polish mixing with the smells of early summer. The couch she lay on was facing the broad open window. Two matching chairs stood on either side. To her disappointment they were both with no trace of her clothes. Viviane rose to her feet, yawning. With a graceful movement she raised her hands in the air as she stretched. "You look wonderful." Viviane froze. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to scare you." Viviane turned around, while protecting her breasts and her lap with her hands in an instinctive motion. Almost hidden in the twilight behind the sofa sat Alix, Yanels receptionist. "How long have you been...?" "You slept for almost four hours." "Putain de .... Did I... I mean, what has...? ... Okay. Okay." Viviane turned on her heel and stepped over to the window. "I'm still here I assume. I mean, at your office or whatever you call it." The tall girl widened the space between two of the blinds slats, looking outside. "Would it be to much to ask where my clothes and my layouts happen to be?" Alix gave no response. "Frankly", Viviane said in her sweetest of voices, "is it custom within your company to give potential business partners this, eh, special treatment?" The girls anger rose. She was about to really get enraged when a knock on the door stopped her. "Yes, what is it" she snapped, ignoring the receptionist girl. The door opened. "My dear Viviane!" Catherine Loiseau had changed in the meantime, wearing a beige suede skirt together with a rose blouse and a broad smile. "Did your little nap refresh you?" She crossed the room, holding out both her arms in a disarmingly gesture. Viviane was stunned. How could she dare? She opened her mouth but, not knowing what to say, closed it a second later. The redheaded woman stood right in front of her, looking up into her eyes. "I think it's time to talk about business" she said and, addressing the receptionist, "would you mind bringing us some tea to my office, Alix?" The latter quickly rose. "Yes, of course, Mme. Loiseau." Alix left the room in a hurry. "You do take tea, don't you?" Viviane sank her shoulders in a helpless motion. "Tea. Certainly." But the older woman had already turned, heading for the door. "Hey, wait a minute! What about my clothes? What about...?" "We will take care of that. Now come on, don't dawdle." The office was furnished the same style as the rest of the house. Catherine Loiseau had already taken place behind a heavy desk facing her guest. "Have a seat, young lady." Viviane had enough of this buddy business - darling here, young lady there - but she kept shut and installed herself on a chair in front of the desk. She folded one leg over the other and rested her hands in her lap. Catherine opened the cardboard folder containing Vivianes drawings and layouts. "This is crap. This one's not bad. Crap." She turned a sheet, holding it at arms length. "Interesting." She looked at Viviane, this time all business, no trace of her former friendliness in her features. "As you might have figured, this -" she pointed at the folder, "is not what we really want of you." She paused. "In fact, part of what we want from you we already got." Viviane opened her mouth but was silenced with a quick motion. "No. I don't speak of the incident in the metro, intriguing as it was. We did record it though, but more of this later." She opened a drawer and took out a packet of cigarettes. The door behind Viviane opened silently and Alix entered with a tray. She gave Viviane a quick glance while she poured the tea. With no other instructions of her employer she turned and left without a sound. "You a have perfect nervous system, did you know that? At least that's what I've been told." She toyed with a cheap plastic lighter, casting a look on a paper on her desk. Then she straightened. "We want to hire you. But not to do artwork for us. Excuse me, but we already have people doing that. They might be a bit better than you, but they are not as sexy." She smiled. "You will provide our customers with something far more valuable: Emotions." Viviane gave her a dazzled look. "The little gizmo I applied to your head earlier, it read out your feelings. All your emotions, your trembling, every little twitch, the tantalizing hunger for fulfilment as well as the pleasure - it's all in here." Catherine Loiseau padded on a small translucent cartridge, containing a little silver disc. "Astonishing, isn't it? Half the size of a floppy disc and it stores such a precious feeling. But the best thing's yet to come." She gave Viviane her most charming smile. "What goes in comes out again. For whoever wants to experience it. Male, female, young or old - it doesn't matter. What matters is the price." Now she got Vivianes attention. Within her arms reach lay - well what? One of the most intense feelings she ever had in her life? Despite the warmth she shivered. This was impossible. Recording human feelings on a mindisc - her head spun, when the consequences of what she had learned slowly dawned upon her. "Yes, I know, I know. But that's not important, not now. We have a product: You. And we have an exclusive clientele, willing to pay a kings ransom. And they wouldn't pay for such shit as educational purposes or behaviouristical research." Viviane felt sick. This woman held one of the most important inventions human spirit could ever conceive in her hands - and all she wanted was to sell sex. Her sex. "You will blackmail me, right?" The redhead grinned. "I would call it persuasion." "What's your offer?" "Fifty thousand Euros." "You must be joking." "Fifty thousand for each of your, uhm, fascinating climaxes." Viviane blushed. "Will anybody recognize me?" "No. It's impossible. We can't read out your memory. Not yet. Anyway, we are talking on a professional basis. You would sign a contract and name us your bank. If you reject..." Vivianes head felt like a wasps nest. She felt nauseated and at the same time intrigued. An alien arousal took hold of her. What the ... she thought. Waging her possibilities she found she didn't really have anything to loose. On the other hand she wanted to know the hole story now. And maybe there was a chance to - she straightened, forcing her face into a composed mask. "I've gotta think about it." "Certainly. You are our guest. And now", she said while raising, "I would like you to meet our CEO. Have you ever been to St. Tropez? June is the best season for a little excursion to the Cote d'Azur, don't you think? it's not so crowded, not too many russians there at that time of the year." Travelling naked was a new experience to Viviane. When Alix had escorted her trough the hall to the waiting limo back in Paris, she incidentally asked for her clothes. Alix shrugged helplessly but offered her a pair of Wayfairer sunglasses she took from her purse. Viviane put them on. She couldn't tell if it was out of curiosity, pride or an exhibitionist rush, but she refrained from insisting to get back what belonged to her. She stopped, looking right into Alix' blue eyes. Then she wordlessly pointed to Alix shoes. The young woman blushed, looked to her feet, then up to Viviane again. She bend down and took off her black slippers which she handed to the tall blonde. Without loosing her balance Viviane lifted first one foot, then the other and put on the shoes. She noticed Alix eying her nervously, licking her lips with a quick flick of her tongue. As Viviane had guessed, the shoes had nearly her size, the leather feeling smooth and warm as her delicate feet sled in. Without a word she turned and walked down the steps to the car, head in the air, completely aware of the sight she gave. She knew the high heeled shoes accentuated her long slender legs and her firm buttocks. Viviane, swaying her hips like a model on the catwalk, walked out the hall and down the steps to the waiting car. Against the outside light, the view between her moving thighs gave a clear impression of her half open labia. "I'm acting like some goddam mind crazed hollywood porn star", she thought. "They want a show, now they can have it." The limo brought them to Orly airport. Catherine Loiseau wasn't with them, as Alix explained, turning in her seat to address Viviane sitting in the back. "She will take tomorrow mornings flight to Nizza." It was about six o'clock. Alix and Viviane were supposed to take Yanels company jet to a small airfield near St. Tropez. The flight was supposed to take about an hour. They were supposed to be picked up by another limo that should take them to the harbour. Some hundred yards to the left of the main airport buildings was a guarded entrance to a separate part of the airfield. When the limo stopped, a police officer clad in a black paramilitary uniform stepped forward. His eyes covered by mirror shades, he had his right hand on a submachine gun. His left held the leash of a doberman. He inspected the document the driver held out of his window while the dog sat motionless at his side. Viviane shivered. She hated big dogs. She tried to maintain her arrogant pose, knowing that it was impossible to peer inside through shaded windows. Even though the dog seemed to sense her fear. It got up and started to sniff. The cop gave it a curious look, then he tried to look inside, guarding his eyes with his hand. "Open" he ordered coldly. Viviane hated the CRS. With the CRS being a special police squad trained for anti terror missions as well as upholding general order, most people tried to go out of their way. They weren't really known for being squeamish. Bash first, then ask questions. Colloquially the CRS was called La Canine for they were never seen without their dogs. The door swung open. "Get out", the cop ordered. Viviane gave Alix a pleading look. Alix shrugged, indicating that she better did what she was told. Viviane swung her legs out the car. The dog pulled at its leash, his huge snout at level with Vivianes lap. She pulled herself out the limo and stood on shaky legs. She could feel the dobermans warm breath on her tummy. The officer remained motionless. Vivianes heart sank when she felt the dogs cool wet nose push against her pubis. She was frozen with fear. The dog continued its sniffing, then pushed its snout between her legs. Vivianes heart raced. Her legs started to tremble but she was afraid to make a move. "It will bite me. Jesus. Go away. Go away, you bloody…" In her mind she cursed the dog. As if to mock her the canine started to lap at her sex with its flappy wet tongue. "O no. Shit." The doberman jerked his head and gave and angry growl. Viviane could only carefully open her legs. The cold wet nose poked right at her mound. The dog resumed its licking. Vivianes blushed. Now this was too much. The warm tongue lapped at her labia. "No, please…" she whispered. The cop didn't move, his face carved from marble, the afternoon sun reflecting in his sunglasses. Then, with the slightest hint of a smile he let go of the leash. The dog immediately leaped forward, pushing Viviane against the car. Stretching her hands out she caught the fall, but now she leant in an angle against the car that made it impossible to regain balance without slipping. The doberman kept pushing its snout against her mound, forcing his body between her bend knees. This caused her labia to finally open, exposing the sprout of her clitoris under the dogs lapping tongue. The cop turned away, addressing the chauffeur. "Open the trunk." The driver released the trunks catch and the black clad officer stepped at the rear. From his belt he took his baton and poked at the suitcases. His heavy boots made screeching noises on the pavement as he walked towards Alix window. He tipped the baton at her window. "Show me the luggage." Alix had to open her suitcases. While the cop moved through her lingerie with his stick she stood motionless, hands folded at her back, like a schoolgirl. Sweat was running down Vivianes temples. Her legs would start to shake any second. Her position was rather uncomfortable. And still the dog kept up its lapping. By now it had wetted all of her crotch with its warm sticky saliva. The soft folds of her sex gave way as the exploring tongue moved them around. "That's enough." Alix closed the trunk as the police officer turned away. Without looking he walked back to guardhouse. When he hissed a short command, the doberman immediately stepped back and followed him, pulling its leash behind on the ground. Alix approached Viviane and held out a helping hand. But the tall girl pushed herself away from the car and, with the back of her hand, she slapped the stunned brunette across the face. "Nothing personal, my dear. But why should I be the only one to suffer? And now, would you please give me a handkerchief?" A drop of blood made its way out of Alix nose. She sniffed, then opened her purse. "Thank you very much." Viviane turned on her heel. As the car drove on, she carefully cleaned her sex. "They will pay for that one" she swore to herself. It wasn't quite clear to her whom she meant and she didn't yet know how exactly she would made them pay but the thought of revenge did a good deal to cool off her raging anger. The yacht lay anchored some hundred yards off the rocky coast in a small bay. The flag swaying lazily from a pole at it's stern indicated a XXXX owner. It was about seventy feet, equipped with a single tall mast. The sails were neatly packed on the long boom and the railing. Its dagger like form of the white hull and the tall elegant rigging radiated an impression of unrestrained force and majestic pride at the same time. Against the setting sun a small shuttle boat approached, slew down and pulled alongside. The boatsman hurried to hold his ship off the spotless side. He fastened the vessel with a rope to the ships [Reeling]. A face appeared, then disappeared. A rope ladder was thrown down and the boatsman took hold of it. He motioned the two girls to come over. Alix climbed up first. Viviane was amazed, as always when she stood on deck of a sailing ship. The intricate weaving of the rigging, the functional arrangement of clamps, blocks and eyes on deck – everything fitted its purpose, no unnecessary ornate, a complicate machinery designed for maximum performance. This ship was worth millions, she sensed. Built from wood and brass it was definitely unlike modern ships with their carbon fibre hulls, alloy masts and kevlar sails. To sail this ship must be pure pleasure. "Ouch… you stupid bitch! Can't you take care, you miserable cunt?" A guttural female voice kept hollering from aft. Alix and Viviane exchanged wondering looks. A girl in a sailors suit hauled up Alix' luggage behind them, then, with a suitcase under each arm questioned them to follow her. "You rotten good-for-nothing" the hollering went on. The made their way to the ships cockpit which was canopied by a large spray hood. A girl, maybe fourteen years of age, sat at the bench. She wore a white sailors shirt. Her jet black hair was piled up her head apart from some lost curls that framed a handsome face. Heavy golden bangles hung from her arms. From the waist down she was naked. Between her widely spread thighs knelt another girl in sailors suit. "Have I got to do everything myself?" she demanded pouting. When she caught sight of Alix and Viviane, the black haired devil gave the girl in front of her a kick that sent her flat on her bottom. She grabbed for a towel and quickly wiped her crotch, then, springing to her feet, she addressed the arrivals. "Bon jour, ma chere Alix. Ca va?" She approached the brunette girl and gave her a sisterly hug. Then, holding out her small hands, she turned to Viviane: "You must be Viviane. How are you? How was your trip?" She embraced Viviane as well, standing on her toes and kissed her on each cheek. She stood at a head shorter than her guest. Either she didn't notice the taller girls nakedness or she didn't care. Most likely the latter, Viviane thought, admiring the ease that radiated from the younger girls movements. "I'm Marie-Noel, Jean-Yves' sister", she announced lustrously. Marie-Noel turned towards the open hatch that led under deck. Viviane mustered her as she bend forward into the ships cabin, presenting her guests with a view of her shapely naked bum. The nails on her delicate fingers and toes were painted bright red just as her lips – in nice contrast to her seamless tan "Jean-Yves, we have company!" She listened for a second. No response. "Putain de merde, JEAN-YVES!" She shrugged. She commanded the waiting porter to bring the luggage under deck. With an inviting gesture she motioned her guests to a small table at the ships stern. She slumped into a wooden folding chair. "We want some champaign" she hollered. Viviane took place. She placed her shades on the table and looked around. The red disc of the sinking sun was about to touch the horizon, bathing the sea in a gleam of XXXXX Carefully the girl, that earlier on had received a harsh treatment, approached the table, carrying a cooler containing a bottle of champaign together with three glasses. "Dare you spill one drop" Marie-Noel growled. With shaky hands the girl filled the glasses. When she finally put the bottle back into the cooler her relief was almost physical. Marie-Noel made a dismissive gesture. When the girl turned, Marie-Noel gave her another kick that almost send her toppling over again. She hurried to get out of sight. "That stupid brat almost cut me", Marie-Noel explained reproachfully. She lifted her right foot, and, holding it with her hand, placed it under her derriere, presenting her hairless sex. Carefully, she took a smoothly shaved labia between index and thumb stretching its skin. "Look, it's still red ", she said, presenting the piece of evidence to the jury. Protruding between the taut flesh were the soft curly folds of her inner lips. "Almost the colour of her nail polish", Viviane thought. Marie-Noel, retaining her position, lifted her glass with her free hand – "cheers" – and downed it in one gulp. Distractedly her finger continued stroking the hurt spot. "So you had the pleasure of meeting our cheer Catherine" she stated. Her finger slowly travelled up and down the rim of her cleft, occasionally toying with the inner labia. Alix refilled her glass. "Thank you. Tell me a little bit about you, Viviane. Catherine told me we could do some business together so maybe we should come to know each other. Her face was all smile, emanating an impression of health and youth. She leant back in her chair, her left arm with the glass in her hand resting on the railing behind her. Her right hand rested on her groin, while its fingers continued their occupation. While Viviane started to give a short version of how she came into contact with Yanel, the young girl never lost sight of her. Contemplating her with an innocent air, Marie-Noels middle finger found the entrance to her vagina, and started a slow circling. Viviane wasn't sure but she meant to have seen a moist tear glistening at the delicate opening. She gulped. "Go on", the young girl encouraged her while she slowly inserted her finger into her vagina. "She must really be wet", Viviane thought, admiring how easy the finger found its way. When it had completely disappeared, Marie-Noel let out a content sigh. "Well, that was about it", Viviane said with dry lips. "This girl acts like she painting her toenails", she wondered. Slowly, the black haired girl withdrew her glistening finger. Then she spread her labia by tracing the finger right through the cleft within. When she reached her clitoris, another sigh escaped her lips. Alix made a remark, but it went unnoticed by Viviane who couldn't keep her eyes from Marie-Noels crotch. Lovingly the girl circled the sprout of her clit. She stretched its hood with index and ring finger while gently stroking it with the tip of her middle finger. "Well i think, that's an excellent idea. What do you think, Viviane?" "What?" she croaked, suddenly awakening from her dreamy haze. "Alix suggested to have diner in town and later on to go partying. Whaddaya think?" Marie-Noel repeated with a mischievous smile. "I wonder if she dares", Viviane thought. "Sounds nice to me. I'm ravenous. But for the partying, I'm afraid I…" "Oh no, come on! There's a really cool club at the beach not far from here" Marie-Noel pleaded. Viviane wasn't sure if her fingers had picked up a slightly faster pace. The girls erect clitoris glistened with the juices her circling finger collected every few strokes from the opening of her vagina, where by now a steady moist trickle emanated. With spread fingers she held open her inner labia, forcing the blood-filled sprout further out of its protecting hood. "May we should go check the Peaches club" she mused distractedly. With her left she took another sip of champaign, then put down the glass. Her now freed hand travelled flat over her tummy then further down to her tanned mound. Reaching her sex, the fingers of her left hand took over the task of spreading her labia. She then dipped a finger of her right hand into the melting wetness of her vagina. Viviane wondered, how she could keep up her composure. As if reading her thoughts, Marie-Noel bit her lower lip. Then, with strong steady strokes she ran her fingertip right over her clitoris. A little whimper escaped her lips. When Viviane looked into her eyes, she found the wide open, the girls beautiful face a mask of vigorous lust. "This is… uh… this is so… urch…" she panted heavily. But still her finger kept is slow steady pace, inflicting a delicious torture upon the writhing girl. Her cheeks gleamed a bright red. her hand had started to tremble but she forced it to resume its slow gait. Viviane sensed her orgasm approaching by the quivering of the girls taut stomach muscles. The toes of her right foot, still trapped under her buttocks, wriggled. Her climax rose, almost physically seizable. Her hips bucked once, twice and still her finger retained its slow pace. Then she bucked again. This time, a small spout of clear liquid squirted from her vagina and landed on Vivianes foot. Viviane was awe-struck. "Oh… ah…ahm sorry", Marie-Noel panted. Her hand slowly came to a rest. Her pelvis still twitched. Then finally she exhaled with a long deep sigh. Her trapped foot slipped from under her. For a moment she sat motionless, only her chest heaved with long healthy breathes. Finally the opened her eyes and cast a wicked smile on her spectators. "Bravo." From behind her, Viviane heard a mock imitation of clapping hands. Marie-Noel bowed her head in a hint of modesty. She stood up, stretching like a kitten, yawning. "Viviane, may I introduce you to my brother, Jean-Yves?" To be continued -----------== Posted via Deja News, The Discussion Network ==---------- http://www.dejanews.com/ Search, Read, Discuss, or Start Your Own -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----