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(This chapter is long and detailed in order to set the scene and introduce characters and their background. The story is about lesbian love and although there are steamy passages, there is more to the story than just wall-to-wall lesbian sex. I hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I did in conceiving it.)

As an army brat I’ve been at a boarding school for girls since I was 4 years old, only seeing my parents for the summer holidays. My parents were killed two years ago when the chinook helicopter flying them to Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan, was destroyed by a surface-to-air missile. Although I didn’t know my parents very well, I was devastated to lose them, especially under such terrible circumstances. At least I didn’t have to ‘come out’ to my parents that I’m a lesbian, but that reflection doesn’t relieve my grief in the slightest.

I remained at boarding school until completing my ‘A’ levels, when as my parents’ sole beneficiary and having just had my 18th birthday, I left boarding school for the last time and moved into what has become my house in London’s Chelsea. I’m keeping myself occupied by preparing to take up the unconditional offer that I received from London University to read Social History.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, my name is Isabelle Jane Keeler, everyone calls me Belle. I’m a 5′ 7″ brunette and a UK size 10, slender but with nice curves in the right places. I was prone to shyness but boarding school cured that! I’ve had little contact with men, apart from during the hols, but it’s been enough for me to know that I am not attracted to them in the least. However, I am attracted to women and have to be careful not to offend by my admiration.

Having shared the showers so often at school, I plan to emulate the girls that I found particularly attractive, i.e. those with zero hair ‘down there’. I’ve done some research on the internet and have an appointment booked to help me decide the best way to deal with the problem, i.e. shaving, waxing or laser treatments. Oh my, it’s almost time to go. Wearing a pretty floral summer dress, I put on my heels, check my makeup in the mirror (yes, I’m girlie), grab my bag and brolly and make my way along the river to Battersea Bridge and then to the beauty salon on the King’s Road.

In the Beautician’s, I meet Samantha, an attractive woman in her late twenties. She welcomes me and leads me into a private room where we sit to discuss the options. She tells me that the classic, manual ways to remove pubic hair, such as shaving, waxing and hair removal cream are favourites. The advantages being convenience, low cost, suitability for most skin types and instant results. However, the disadvantages are that thicker regrowth of hair is inevitable, because the hair follicles remain unchanged. I thank her for her clear explanation and ask about a permanent solution.

Sam tells me that Laser treatment permanently removes pubic hair by using heat energy to damage the hair follicle and discourage further growth. The hand-held device emits a concentrated light beam to the required area targeting the pigment, it is perfect for the dark, coarse hair often found on the pubic area. Another Laser method is Intense Pulsed Light (IPL) which works in a similar way. Using heat energy, it uses pulses of intense light to target the hair follicles. She adds that IPL can produce heat if overused, so it is generally applied over 6 to 8 appointments but is therefore more expensive.

I ask the cost of a full course of IPL and she says that each appointment costs £200 but a full course is on special offer at £800, i.e. up to 8 appointments if required for the price of 4. I decide that only the best will do and opt for the special offer asking if the first session can be done now. She smiles sweetly and says that it can. She fills out a form which confirms the special offer and I make the payment using my debit card.

After the formalities are completed she asks me to remove any clothes that might get in the way, which I do. She helps me to lie back on the couch covered with a plastic sheet under my hips and with my legs open, as if I was unable to do it myself. However, as she does it so gently, even sensuously, I can feel her touch in my clitoris and realise that I’m becoming aroused and try to concentrate on something, anything to distract my attention from her gaze on my naked sex.

She tells me that usually ladies are asked to shave the area 2-3 days before the appointment so that they aren’t completely smooth. In my case she will use a hairdressing trimmer which will leave a suitable stubble. I hope that I am reasonably dry. In no time at all she deftly deploys the buzzing trimmer, which feels rather nice against my naked vulva. All done, she brushes the debris from my ‘haircut’ onto the plastic sheet under me.

She cleans my stubble thoroughly with wet wipes, then applies a cooling gel straight out of the fridge to reduce the skin heating of the IPL and the possibility of damage. She gives me some protective beylikdüzü escort glasses, a bit like 3D glasses, and I put them on. She aims the IPL scanner to a small section of stubbly skin and presses the button to activate the light. Each time she presses the button, I feel as if ants are biting me in that section. The low grade pain, thanks to the gel is transient only lasting a few seconds.

She moves my labia as necessary and covers the sensitive parts as she works around them. The whole IPL procedure is completed in about 10 minutes. She uses a wipe to remove the cooling gel and then a wet towel to clean the area. Finally she gives me some cotton wipes to clean myself particularly in the most sensitive areas.

Sam says that sunburn-like sensations can be expected for about 2-3 hours after the treatment. If it is uncomfortable apply cold compresses or ice to the area. Try not to pick blisters or skin crusting to avoid scarring. I really don’t want an ugly cunt! Wash the area only in tepid or warm water. Finally, while the pores are open, they are vulnerable to irritation, so try to avoid swimming or sexual activity for a week after the treatment.

On getting dressed again, I tell her that I don’t usually flash for strangers. She laughs and tells me that when the treatments are all completed that ‘close up’ I’ll be more beautiful than most and winks. I wonder if that was a subtle pass, but having no lesbian experience, I decide to say nothing and watch for signs next time.

She tells me that I should notice a thinning of hair in about a fortnight, so recommends the next appointment in 3-4 weeks time and gives me a copy of the order where she has circled the phone number for my reference. In handing me the paper, our personal spaces overlap and seeing her smile, I smile in return, I feel myself drawn towards her as if toward a black hole. Our lips touch and holding my face in her hands she gently sucks on my top lip. I can’t believe my luck and take her bottom lip between my lips for the softest and most sensual kiss imaginable.

We melt together for a full minute before she breaks the kiss. She asks me if I’d like to go to a lesbian club with her and without hesitation I say that I would like that very much. We exchange mobiles and enter our names and numbers for each other then pass the mobiles back with a smile. We agree to meet in a fortnight’s time at the junction of Battersea Bridge and Cheyne Walk at 7:30 p.m. She opens the door for me and she gently pats my bottom as i leave. My button tingles and my spirits soar.

Back at home I go online to find out as much as I can about lesbianism and to my surprise, discover that there is a module in my course with options that I hadn’t fully taken in. It is titled ‘Human Rights’ and the 2 options are: 1. Human Rights. 2. Women’s Rights.

I call London University on my mobile and ask about exercising an option for the Social History course I’ll be starting in a few weeks time. I’m put through to the right person who tells me that as a female, I have automatically been registered for the Women’s Rights option and I’m asked if I wish to change my option. Delighted I say that I called to see if I can be included in the Women’s Rights option, so am happy. She thanks me for my interest which she has noted in my record for me and the call ends.

The next day I meet with the bank manager and after proving my identity and showing him my parents’ wills, He helps me to open the necessary new accounts and transfer both the considerable amounts and the current direct debits to the new accounts. There seems to be enough money to allow me to live a life of luxury and excess and still not run out of money. He has a special new debit card arranged for me which he says is available only to owners of accounts that maintain a very large balance, which mine do. An assistant brings in my new special debit card and ask if that completes all transfers to me. He confirms that it does and he kindly escorts me out of the bank.

During the 13 days before Sam takes me to a lesbian club, I alternate between hours of lesbian research online, shopping for clothes and arranging interviews for a live-in cleaner/housekeeper and a live-in cook/personal maid from a domestic staffs agency. The only ‘must haves’ I stipulate, apart from being able to do the job, are that interviewees must be female, speak fluent english, have references from a previous employer and can show proof of their status as legal UK residents.

The proximity of the King’s Road allows me to visit all the clothing shops and boutiques during my fortnight. I feel such a freedom being able to buy, for the first time, exactly what I like and not to worry about the cost. I might walk on the outward journey, but with all the clothes I buy there’s no way that I could carry them home and need to use a black cab each time.

I have inhabited my parents’ room, which is the master bedroom suite. It and the lounge are the largest rooms in the house. It has an en-suite bathroom avcılar escort with large spa-bath, walk-in shower, twin hand wash basins and curiously twin toilets, both with japanese style bidet seats that can wash and blow-dry the user! It also has a huge changing room with fitted oak wardrobes and a multitude of drawers. I don’t know why, perhaps in the hope that I will meet the lady of my life, but I unpack my purchases, hang up my new dresses and put the remainder in drawers using only one side of the room.

The end wall is an illuminated shoe rack and my few pairs look quite forlorn all on their own on the expansive rack. Among the light switches just inside the bedroom door, there is a switch that doesn’t seem to do anything and I inadvertently leave it switched on. Later, while checking out my dressing table in the bedroom, I find a switch hidden on the underneath of the top surface and therefore out of sight even when the top drawer is opened. I press it once and look around to see if anything has changed.

In the dressing room I notice that part of the floor, under my dresses, has moved sideways to reveal a large safe hidden under the floor. When I try the key that fits nothing else, I am able to open it and am staggered to find that it is full of cash, expensive looking jewellery and there is a key to a security box.

Returning to the paperwork given to me by my parents’ solicitor, now my solicitor, I find that the key is for a security box in the vault of The Pure Bullion Company near the Bank of England and a card that acts as ID bearing the contact details of the Comptroller.

I call the Pure Bullion Company and ask to be put through to the Comptroller. I explain who I am and who my late parents were. He asks if I can visit him bringing the cash with me. I express my concern regarding carrying so much money and he tells me that he can send an unmarked security van to bring me to his premises, the driver will show me the exact same ID card that I possess to verify his identity. I thank him and while waiting for the van to arrive, I remove all of the cash from the safe and pack it into a suitcase.

In the office of the Comptroller, I am welcomed and sit down to take tea with him as my identity is verified, i.e. my key fits the security box owned by my parents. In the meantime, assistants examine and count the cash from the safe. He tells me that it contains £4 million exactly. I’m again staggered but even more so when the Comptroller tells me that the security box, now mine, contains gold ingots that today he would pay me £749,958,768.57 precisely to buy back from me. I feel faint and am quickly given a glass of water which revives me.

The Comptroller tells me that I am a very wealthy and very fortunate lady and asks if I wish to use the cash in order to buy gold ingots to add to my security box. There’s no way I want that amount of money at home and agree to purchase further gold ingots with the cash. He does some calculations and tells me that he can sell me 95 ingots of 1 kilogram from £3,988,100 + £100 for storage and insurance, making a total of £3,988,200 leaving me with £11,800 in cash. I am vastly relieved and agree to make the sale.

He completes a document which is jointly a record of the transaction, certifying the purchase of 95 x 1 kg ingots and a certificate of insurance for 12 months. I ask what happens after the 12 months and he tells me that it will be added to the direct debit from my bank account. I’m happy to know I don’t have to worry about renewing the insurance. Now, he says with a big smile, is the best part!

We get up and he takes me, via the reception desk, down to the vault. The outer door is opened automatically for us and I get my first sight of countless stacks of gleaming gold ingots. They are so heavy that the pallets are made of thick stainless steel rather than wood. He unlocks the steel barred door that swings open slowly on its solid hinges by just a touch of his finger.

A man follows us into the security box vault pushing a trolley with my 95 ingots on it. I still can’t believe my wealth but when the Comptroller and I both use our keys to open my ‘box’, it opens to reveal a long room crammed with 200 times the ingots I have just purchased. Almost in a daze, I watch the man add my paltry 95 ingots to my collection and realising my jaw has dropped, leaving me open mouthed, I quickly close it and hope it wasn’t noticed. All is secured and with one last look over my shoulder, we leave the vault.

In reception the Comptroller gives me a new ID card and my transaction record, suitably embrossed with the company logo while his assistant brings my suitcase containing the remaining £11,800 in cash. He thanks me for my visit and sees me into a company car to be driven home. I thank him for his courteous assistance and after shaking hands, I get into the rear seat with my case on the front passenger seat and we pull away.

Back at home, the £11,800 in cash is immediately put into the safe and both switches turned off. esenyurt escort Happy that there’s no sign of anything other than fitted wardrobes. I go downstairs to make a drink before the first candidates arrive for interview. The interviews take up the rest of the day and much of the next day. After sleeping on it, I decide to offer the positions to a lesbian couple. They are twin sisters, Lali and Piti born in England of immigrant parents that migrated here from Kolkata in India. Their birth certificates prove that they are both British citizens and twins but they have no references because they have never worked.

When they ‘came out’ to their parents, they were literally ‘thrown out’ of the family. Not even distant relatives would take them in, but fortunately a friend was able to give them shelter but they will have to leave by the end of the week. The key appeal of these lovely young ladies is their happy dispositions and suggestion that they share the jobs and they both function as cook/bearer so that when one isn’t busy she can help the other and vice versa.

I ring the agency to offer jobs to both Lali and Piti on the national minimum wage but with full board and lodging included. The probation period will be 3 months and then their pay will be reviewed. The consultant asks when the ladies are required and, knowing their circumstances, I say that they can start as soon as they like but by the end of the week at the latest. The consultant thanks me and says that she will be in touch a.s.a.p. to confirm. I thank her and the call ends.

The fortnight since my first IPL treatment has passed and I wonder what dress to wear. I’ve no idea how Sam dresses because she was wearing a work tunic, but I do know that I always prefer a dress or skirt and top with heels, I know I’m ‘girlie’ and everything I’ve seen online suggests I’m a femme lesbian. Well, tonight might confirm what I am and that thought makes me smile. I call Sam at the salon and we confirm our meeting for 7:30 this evening.

When I give myself a careful wash down, I’m delighted to notice that my pubic hair has thinned more than expected and after combing out my long brunette hair, I put on makeup which I think might be suitable for clubbing. I put on a new white semi-sheer bra and skimpy thong set. Now for my new white midaxi tea dress from Nobody’s Child that I bought at Per Una in Marks & Sparks. It is made from a light cotton blend with a look perfect for eating strawberries & cream at Wimbledon. It has a full lining, flattering v-neck and pretty, layered frills at the chest, shoulders, and bottom hem. The cutaway back will help keep me cool. I model it in front of the long mirror and am delighted with my choice.

A pair of white slingback 4 inch heels, a white clutch bag and a white lace shawl complete my first attempt at a femme lesbian outfit. My mobile rings and I answer it seeing that it is the agency. The consultant tells me that Lali and Piti are delighted to be offered the jobs with board & lodging included. They asked her to accept my very kind offer and ask if they may arrive the following evening with a view to starting work the next morning. I ask if they need help to travel and she assures her that the friend that they have been staying with will bring them in her taxi. I thank her and the call ends.

At 7:30 it’s still light as I approach our meeting point and see Sam on the corner wearing a lovely little black dress. As we see each other we smile and kiss each other on the cheek. Sam says the club is only a short walk and since there’s still plenty of daylight we decide to walk. She leads me up the path of a large house and says that we have arrived. She adds that the house is owned by Alisa, who runs the agency… erm… club. I look at her and she confesses that Chelsea Exclusives is actually an escort agency providing companions for ladies, it is owned by Alisa, our party hostess. I ask if she works for the agency and she says that she started recently. I tell her that I do not have a problem and if she wishes to improve her income that way, it is entirely her affair. She thanks me and asks me not to say anything. I agree.

Sam introduces me simply as Belle. I seem to be getting hugged by everyone. I’m not surprised that Sam is kissed on the lips but a total surprise and joy when I am too. The total openness and fondness of their greeting is such a refreshing revelation and is another confirmation for me that I am a lesbian. When I’m introduced to Alisa, I’m stunned by her beauty and snuggle into her lovely long welcoming hug and delicious kiss. I find myself drawn to her as never before but, I remind myself that she is the hostess and a madame and I’m a newcomer, a teenager too!

Alisa takes my hand and tells me that there are about 20 ladies present, as we meander through the rooms, I am struck at the variety of ages and styles. She asks if I find women in their 40s and 50s attractive and I confirm that I do, some particularly so, she and those within hearing range smile their approval. Alisa is probably in her late twenties and asks me where I met Sam. Suddenly I realise that she is no longer with me. I giggle and tell her that she gave me my first IPL treatment a fortnight ago.

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