"Ahh, the finest example of a historic grand organ, it's at Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church. It will be a highlight of the conference." Emmy looked at him trying to decide.
Then he added, "Emmy you aren't the only organist dying to get your hands on Skinner's Organ."
They both laughed at the little exchange and Emmy accepted his invitation. The conference sounded great but Emmy was secretly thrilled at the thought of being out of town, out of Saint Sebastian's sight with this man whom she was beginning to like and, more importantly, trust.
The trip finally arrived and it turned out to be a fabulous three days; the conference had exceeded their expectations. They had seen and heard some of the finest organs in the country; the technical workshops in the afternoons were informative and well organized. Emmy took one of those as an opportunity to peruse some of the nicer women's apparel shops looking for something sexy she might wear while out of town.
They both wanted their last night in Chicago to be a special celebration. So they decided to dress up and dine at the hotel's showcase restaurant. After drinks in the bar they enjoyed an intimate last dinner over which they abandoned all the sexual innuendo they had been swapping for days and engaged in a direct conversation. Daniel was a good listener; his gentle responses and subtle questions led Emmy to open up to him. They sat, leaning into the candle's yellow glow; the warmed aromatic brandy worked its magic.
"Emmy," Daniel all but whispered, "I've watched you with the choirboys."
"Their voices are quite good for their limited training; don't you think," Emmy responded nervously.
"That's not what I meant, Emmy"
"They are so sweet."
"You enjoy their lust don't you? You thrive on knowing every one of those young men is devouring you with his eyes."
She stared at him then looked away nervously. "...They are so clumsy, aren't they?"
"I understand, Emmy. You can trust me."
Emmy let the last vestiges of her guard down; maybe the alcohol had loosened her speech, maybe it was that Daniel was older than she and she felt trustful, maybe she was just longing for a confessor but Emmy told Daniel everything. She told him about her frustrations of being single in such a tight community. She told him about her increasing sexual appetite, about teasing the choirboys; she even told him about her frustrated efforts to explore self-bondage. Daniel listened intently and when it seemed that Emmy had emptied her longing heart on the table he took her hands in his and spoke five little words that she has never forgotten.
"Emmy, I can show you things."
They were spoken in his characteristic low speech, not loud enough for anyone nearby to hear but to Emmy those words, "I can show you things," vibrated down into her belly like a bass note from the Farfisa. She felt like she was having a panic attack; her eyes welled with tears, breath fell short and she dizzied in a rush of heat. She couldn't form a reply; she just lowered her eyes. Daniel never let go of her hand as they stood, exited the restaurant and headed for the elevators.
Daniel was masterful on that first night, unwrapping her passions and desires until she surrendered herself into his deft hands. Emmy didn't want to slowly slip from making love to other things. She didn't want to be worshipped or cruelly treated and knew she didn't want to have to explain herself, her needs, to him. As if read her mind, as soon as the door closed in that softly lit hotel room he kissed her tenderly, held her close and hard till her pounding heartbeat settled and then stepped back form her.
"Remove your clothes, Emmy," he had said to her. And, as if entranced, she complied, first opening her new sheer blouse and dropping it from her shoulders, then her sexy pinfold skirt. She slid it down her thighs and stepped over it, towards him. But Daniel stepped back. "Remove your bra, Emmy." And she did, slowly unclasping it and sliding it from her shoulders. "And you panties, Emmy."
Naked, in front of him, she felt a shameless exhilaration. He reached for the thinly upholstered chair beside them and slid it towards her. "Sit down, Emmy." Daniel loosened his silk necktie and removed it. He stepped behind her and placed it around her head, covering her eyes. He tied a soft knot behind her head.
He skillfully bound her to the chair, taking all his time tying each wrist and ankle to chair's polished arms and legs. He stood up and surveyed his work, then began to add bindings until her breasts were bound and lewdly presented. Emmy experienced a blissful surrender that first night as he lightly stroked and teased her. He took her to a level of arousal she had never known possible. When she was clearly responding to him he led her through a series of instructions that spoke directly to her sense of theatrics.
"Show me how you resist your bindings--struggle with them, Emmy."
His urgings made her feel beautiful and free, feelings that were amplified by her suppressed desires. She struggled against her bonds then relaxed, as if resigned to her plight then began struggling again. It was a dance for Emmy and she relished the power she felt in her submission to Daniel. After what seemed like an hour of this taunting and tantalizing he untied her and brought her to the bed. He showed her other things, coaxed her towards her release through teasing and denial. He altered her bindings and positions until she was smoldering in her passions. By the time he released her she was drenched with sweat and dripping between her legs. He caressed her and held her till she calmed. But she didn't calm, she wanted more. She pleaded with him, tried to seduce him but he resisted and taunted her further. Then Daniel did something surprising.
"Would you go and get a bucket of ice for us, Emmy?" She was not sure what he had wanted. She resisted this untimely request and when she realized it was part of his plan, she reached for her blouse.
"No, Emmy, I want you to go as you are." It was very late by now and the prospect of someone else on the floor was slim but, never the less, the chill of terror at the thought of this public embarrassment shocked her like a slap. It was also exactly what she wanted and needed. Emmy lowered her eyes and nodded her agreement.
The door closed with a silent mechanical click and, maybe just to further terrify her, he turned the privacy lock and even fastened the security clasp. There was never a more frightening moment or a more exhilarating one as when she found herself standing outside the door of the fourteenth room on the fourteenth floor in this strange city, naked and still wet with lustful excitement. Daniel had made her wear her shoes out of some ironic sense of propriety, but being naked while wearing her high heels only made her feel more naked. She began the journey down the long hall of doors but as she got further from room 1414 she began to thrill in her own sense of adventure. Finally, she made it to the ice machine. She shuddered from the frosty chill at her tummy as she opened the door and filled the bucket to the brim with mechanically shaped cubes. Though it was a shock she hugged it to her breasts remembering her night in her own backyard. It burned, it felt good, she almost peed herself; and then she turned and clicked out of the utility area back towards the carpeted corridors. Several times she was startled by sounds coming from behind one of the doors she passed on her way along the empty corridors. Once she even stopped to listen to a couple's passionate lovemaking. She was proud of herself for completing her mission but a new terror swept down on her. She found the door to 1414 was still locked.
"Daniel," she hoarsely whispered, "open this door...please, open the door." Just as she felt like she was going to cry, the door cracked open but only to the limit of the security clasp. She saw him walking away from the door. "Daniel, what are you doing?"
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