This story has a generous pinch of creative freedom in it, it happened around 2012ish and a lot of the details are lost to the sands of time. You might want to read the Abby on Display stories from the pinned post on my profile first, they're the prequels to this one.

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When I got home from the party that night I immediately made my way to my bedroom, grabbed my favourite dildo and fucked myself senseless. I was tired and my feet hurt a little, but my pussy needed attention and the memory of Amelie sucking on my clit was one I couldn't shake.

Once I came back to earth, as I took off the lingerie, I found the card she had tucked into my stocking top. It feel to the floor, the pearlescent paper glinting as it did. I picked it up and turned it over in my manicured fingers. Embossed into the thick card, in gold letters were her name, her phone number and the word Domme. My heart skipped a beat,

I pick up my phone, hesitating for a moment, butterflies in my stomach. "Fuck it" I mutter to myself and send her a message. "Hi, It's Abby" I hit send and toss my phone onto the bed as far away from me as I can, suddenly terrified. I rub my eyes and head for the shower. I don't think about her again, I shower and sleep the sleep of someone who stayed up far too late.

As I am sat eating lunch, the following day, my phone lights up with a number I don't have in my contacts and I pick it up to see who it is. My pussy immediately moistens when I see it's from Amelie. We exchange a few messages, she's in London for a couple more weeks while her husband works and she would like some company. No one who has met Amelie would say no.

I met her that evening, I didn't care that I might seem too keen, she's only in town for a couple more weeks and I want more of that magical mouth. We meet in the bar of a nice hotel, we drink and chat and I get an abridged version of her life story. Her husband is here for work, he's in finance, so Amelie gets to travel and be an independent woman while he does his thing. She has a lot of freedom and her accent makes my pussy tingle.

She invites me up to her room, but my brain has shut off, I had spent the last few minutes imagining how good it would be to have her lips and tongue expertly bringing me to orgasm again. She interrupts my thought as she is getting up, I follow because I'm not an idiot.

I follow her through the hotel. She looks incredible, so chic and so very French. Her hair is straight and just past her shoulders, her figure hugging dress accentuates everything it should, her heels are somehow quite high but also not. It's mesmerising. As we ride the lift, alone, she explains to me that she would quite like to get to know me better and that she could use someone familiar with the city to help her find interesting places to go while she is here. I nod along like an enthralled mug...because I am.

For clarity, I am excessively confident and rarely in awe of anyone, in fact there might be 3 people that have had this affect on me ever.

She leads me into her hotel room, it's incredible, a suite with views of one of London's best parks. She points to a mini bar in the corner as she walks away towards what appears to be a bedroom. "Take off all your clothes, except for your heels and pour us both a drink, I won't be long." There had been almost no discussion of us having sex, other than the insinuation in the lift and I had not expressed any preference to being submissive. Yet here we are.

I strip as she says, all but the heels, then pour two glasses of wine from an open bottle in the fridge. When the bedroom door opens, I am leaning against the mini bar, casually sipping my wine, feeling a little exposed. Fortunately there is enough alcohol in my system to get rid of any nerves I might have.

What I see when the door opens though, I was not prepared for. Her dress is gone, her hair is in a tight bun on top of her head and she is wearing the most incredible lingerie. I think it was Agent Provocateur, but honestly I didn't ask...that was the last thing on my mind. My mouth dropped open as my eyes roamed down her body, they stopped at a pair of absurdly high heels.

Because the smooth, confident socialite I am...I was utterly lost of words. I did find out where she got the heels and promptly ordered myself a pair. Every woman needs a pair of 7 inch heels. The rest of the evening was a blur, she made me kneel in front of her. I felt alive. I tasted her pussy, my tongue exploring it and sucking at her clit, she told me exactly what to do and when to do it. Harder, softer, fingers in, hum...I did it all, exactly how she told me, I did not want to disappoint her.

She dug her fingers into my scalp as her orgasm washed over her.

She returned the favour, I was bent over, legs apart, looking out the floor to ceiling windows as she ate me out from below, her fingers fucking my pussy. It was just as good as the first time.

It was late, I went home and dreamed of fucking french girls. Two days later I met her again, we went to a museum and had lunch together. She told me what she did to amuse herself and the tales she told, so openly, made my pussy soaking wet, sat outside a small cafe. We went back to her hotel room before dinner and she tied me to the bed and gave me more orgasms than I could count.

We met her husband for dinner, I took them to one of my favourite restaurants. Over after dinner drinks Amelie told him that he could fuck me if he wanted, but she would like to watch. He did, she didn't just watch, it was magical.

It went on like this, we would meet for lunch, fuck, eat dinner...fuck some more. It was usually simple in the day time, maybe 69 or mutual masturbation, but electric at night. Sometimes she would dress me up in her lingerie, she tied me up often. It was two weeks and it went in a flash.

On the final night they asked if I would accompany them to a private party, to meet some friends of theirs. I didn't think twice and I didn't ask questions. They asked me to wear white lingerie, Amelie suggested something she had seen me wear before. I agree and they tell me they will collect me later that day. I hurry home and prepare, as you might expect.

I am waiting for them, I am very prompt, they are not. I am wearing a figure hugging white dress, white platform stilettos with 6 inch heels, nude stockings and a white basque and matching thong. It's innocent, almost. I feel incredible. 15 minutes after they are due to arrive Amelie calls. She asks if I own a butt plug, doesn't wait for the answer and tells me to put it in, they will be there in five minutes.

I am thoroughly flustered as I walk out to their waiting car, the butt plug feels so good, my pussy and thong are both soaked. I love them and I am somewhat sad that they will leave in the morning.

They take me to an interesting part of town and we stop outside a rock club. I'm a little confused as we get out the car, but I quickly realise that is not why we are here. There is an unmarked door on the side of the building and a very well dressed bouncer lets us in. Amelie leads the way, her husband behind me. We walk into what is clearly a fetish club.

It's busy, but not packed. Everyone is in black or white. A firm hand on my waist pushes me forward and I realise Amelie has walked away. I'm busy gawping at the dark decor, a mixture of blacks and reds and low lights. Amelie is making a beeline for a woman who is clearly holding court, a group of people stood around listening to her every word. They make eye contact and the woman makes her excuses and leaves, greeting Amelie warmly with a kiss on each cheek.

She's tall, it's hard to say how tall as she is wearing towering heels, her slim body is clad in tight latex from her shoulders to her ankles. She has glowing red hair that hangs down her back and curls at the end in an effortless way that looks like it took a long time to perfect. She talks to Amelie in a mixture of French and English, before moving to greet her husband and completely ignoring me, as if I wasn't even there.

After a moments conversation, the redhead makes her way to the centre of the room and claps her hands once. She loudly announces that all the guests are present and for the evening to begin. The lighting changes, dark lights turn on and all the people dressed in white are suddenly glowing, their clothes turning transparent and outlining their underwear...the reason for the white dress is suddenly apparent.

I bite my lip as I realise the outline of my own lingerie is quite clearly visible through my dress. Each couple has stopped to take in the view of the other people dressed in white, this is very clearly couples with their subs, here to show off. People seem excited to see Amelie, more so than her husband and keep coming up to talk to her and compliment her on her exceptional sub.

Amelie strolls over to me and standing incredibly close whispers into my ear, "It's time for us to show you off properly, don't worry, you're going to love it". As she talks, the redhead takes my hand and leads me away to a small, low stage. Without saying a word, she positions me in the centre. She walks around behind me and with the most delicate touch possible, she unzips my dress, letting it fall away, but catching it before it hits the floor. I have never felt more self conscious, and more aroused.

Walking in front of me she takes me by the waist, her hands are delicate, but firm. She guides me backwards until my back is against the wall, a curtain hangs between it and me. She takes my arm by the wrist, lifting it above my head and locking it into a clasp that I am certain was not there a moment ago. She does the same with the other wrist, leaving both my arms high in the air. She offers me an encouraging smile then uses her foot to nudge my feet a little wider apart.

She bends down, a seemingly impossible task in the skin tight latex and towering heels. From under the curtain she produces a slightly familiar metal bar, which she proceeds to lock to my ankles. As she stands she tells me to look at the roof, as I move my head my mouth opens and she gently pushes a gag inside with a smug smile on her face. She leans close as she fastens it behind my head, I can smell her perfume and it's delicious.

She steps back and tips her head to one side, admiring me, then wanders away. Waiters appear, serving drinks and snacks. The people in black come up to the stage to admire me, I start to get flash backs to that dinner party at His. After the waiters finish, one more appears, this time bringing a trolley on wheels covered with a cloth. He stops on one side of the stage, takes off the cloth and disappears.

My eyes widen as I take in the sight before me. So many dildos and vibrators, more than I can count, of every size and shape and colour. The room is falling quiet and everyone is gathering around the stage. Fuck. What have I got myself into and why do I love it so much?

Amelie approaches the trolley, she thinks for a moment and picks up a hitachi vibrator, she plugs it in by the side of the stage and makes her way towards me. She leans in close and whispers " Don't be shy", as she does I feel the head of the vibrator press against my soaking wet pussy, then a few seconds later, it springs to life.

I moan in satisfaction, looking at Amelie with pleading eyes, knowing I can't express myself properly though the gag. She moves the vibrator back and forth, sliding it over my wet pussy. The thong is soaked, not that it matters, nothing can dampen the power of the hitachi as it throbs away against my pussy. It's vibrating everywhere, it feels like it's sending pleasure direct into my soul. I close my eyes and relax, feeling Amelies breath on my skin as the vibrator does it's job.

She tugs the basque down, freeing my breasts and gently squeezes my nipples. I'm groaning constantly now, the intensity of the situation is heightening the pleasure. Amelie pushes the vibrator back, pressing it against the plug for a moment, sending surges of vibration a different direction and making my eyes snap open. Every guy in the room has their cock out, either jerking themselves or having their sub do it as they watch. The women have, so far, shown a little more restraint.

Amelie smiles devilishly as the vibrator moves back to my clit. She holds it there, not moving it and gradually starts to ramp up the vibrations. My eyes roll back, lost in pleasure as my body starts to lose control. It's so hard to even stay on my feet, but I know that it will be so much harder if my legs give out. Despite that they start to shake, my desperate moans increasing in volume.

Then it hit's like a train, I am vaguely aware of Amelie stepping to one side, but holding the vibrator in position, so as not to interrupt the view. My body trembles and shakes, my pussy gushes, soaking my thighs and changing the tone of the vibrator. My head rolls back and my arms strain at the restraints.

The vibrator pulls away and Amelie leaves the stage. People come up to congratulate her and compliment her on me once more. I am surprised that their compliments are so easily won. Eventually the red head comes and unfastens me, taking my by the hand and guiding me back to Amelie, who plants a soft kiss on my cheek and whispers a soft "Merci".

The rest of the evening is just as bizarre, Like the other subs, I am largely ignored. But many compliments are paid to Amelie and infrequently her husband as to my appearance and general demeanour. It's utterly bewildering, but somehow incredibly erotic. I patiently follow them around until it's time to leave, we were there maybe 3 hours, it felt infinitely longer but somehow went too fast. My dress is returned to me as we make our way to the exit, I was starting to worry just a tiny bit!

Amelie insists I sit in the back of the car, between her and her husband for the ride home. She talks, I listen, her husband takes out her cock and suggests without saying a word that I should give him a blowjob, which I do. Amelie explains that our time together is over as they are leaving in the morning. As she does, her hand slides between my legs, coating her fingers in my juices. She takes one last taste of my pussy as her husband cums in my mouth. Seconds later the car pulls up outside my home.

I have never felt so disappointed that something has come to an end. I kiss Amelie and her husband offers a discrete head nod from the back of the car. They disappear and I never really see them again, although we chat via text from time to time.