Every time I pass by my neighbor, I can’t help but steal glances at her, out of the corner of my eye, discreetly, thanks to the many mirrors in the elevator.
Obsessed with my neighbor across the hall
My neighbor is rather petite, about 5’3”, I’d say. Her curves drive me wild. She’s a bit plump, but I’ve always liked women with some meat on their bones, as long as their waist is defined. And hers is. She has a firm, ample backside, wide thighs, and breasts to die for, always squeezed into tight corsets. Her breasts are large and full. If only I could cup them in my hands and press my lips to her nipples…
Every time I run into her as I leave for work, I think about her all day long, like an obsession. She’s always dressed like an executive woman, so I assume she must work in a bank or something like that. To my misfortune, I have a fetish for strict outfits and a pronounced taste for nylon.
Let’s just say that whenever I see a pair of legs clad in stockings or tights, I struggle to keep my composure. My neighbor wears them constantly—dark, often opaque. Since she’s petite, she’s always perched on high heels, which accentuates her posture. And my arousal. She has an angelic face, big innocent eyes, and thick lipped mouth. After a quick hello, she always turns away from me, her gaze pensive, lost in thought, her beautiful face framed by her striking jet-black hair.
My neighbor, caught in an SM session with a pretty Asian woman
We’re neighbors on the same floor, the sixteenth, at the top of a tower in the heart of Paris, and she lives alone. I assume so, since I’ve never seen a man enter her place. But she has plenty of female friends who visit her often. So I’ve started wondering if she might be a lesbian. To my great dismay.
This has been going on for months. I’ve never dared take the plunge, strike up a conversation, or attempt a gentle, polite approach, not even that. Truth be told, I don’t want to ruin my fantasies with any form of rejection. But things changed a few days ago.
We share the same balcony that wraps around the building, separated only by a glass partition between our apartments. Sometimes, I lean over a little to try to peek into the small bedroom—the only room I can see into. Most of the time, though, the blinds are drawn. Except that morning, they were open. So I took my chance, especially since strange, muffled noises were escaping through the slightly cracked sliding window.
What I saw froze me in place.
There was a woman lying on the bed, tied up in a hogtie position, arched backward to an extreme degree. A petite, slender Asian woman, remarkably flexible given her pose. She was wearing stockings, black stilettos, and a ball gag held in place by a leather harness, which was tied to her tightly bound elbows, forcing her to keep her head raised.
It clearly wasn’t my neighbor on that bed.
She appeared soon after, towering in high heels, a leather corset hugging her frame, her hips molded into a maddening leather skirt.
My neighbor, a Lesbian Dominatrix
Since my teenage years, the world of BDSM has driven me wild, but I’ve never dared to take the leap, terrified of what might happen. But this is different—I’m not in some dark club; I’m at home, discovering that my seemingly prim and proper neighbor is actually a Lesbian Dominatrix. Granted, a lesbian Dominatrix. Yet, strangely, I don’t feel discouraged. On the contrary, it fills me with a powerful excitement, my eyes glued to the incredible scene unfolding before me.
My neighbor secures her captive, tying her knees to the edges of the bed so she can’t roll over. Then, out of nowhere, she produces a plastic bag filled with a yellowish liquid and hangs it from a hook on the ceiling as the petite Asian woman squirms and moans louder. Finally, she attaches a tube to the bottom of the bag, which has some kind of stopper, and connects it to the gag, which must have an opening.
It doesn’t take long for me to see the yellowish liquid flow through the tube and into the poor victim’s mouth. She whimpers even more as her tormentor gently strokes her hair with a satisfied look.
Increasingly aroused by my neighbor, a Lesbian Dominatrix
Then, she looked up and met my gaze, shocked and frightened at the same time. I bolted upright and hurried back into my living room, my heart pounding.
She had seen me.
At any moment, I expected her to ring my doorbell, but nothing happened. I listened, I spied, but I couldn’t hear a thing anymore.
I was both terrified and unbearably aroused. An intense masturbation session didn’t even calm me down. You see, I’ve had submissive fantasies for a long time, and the idea of a genuine Mistress Dominatrix living just on the other side of the wall drove me insane.
A Lesbian Dominatrix who, alas, loved women…
But who’s to say she hates men?
Sure, I’ve never seen any men visit her, but that doesn’t mean anything, right?
Honestly, a woman like her, if she asked me to, I’d drop to my knees in front of her in an instant.
That was two days ago, and now this morning, I find myself alone with her in the elevator, watching her reflection in the mirror.
Confessing to my neighbor my desire to take the Asian woman’s place
When she saw me, she acted indifferent, maintaining her usual dreamy air. But once she stepped out of the elevator, she turned to me with a concerned expression.
- “Excuse me, but I wanted to say something,” she began. “What you saw the other day through the window—the young woman on the bed was consenting. It was a game.”
I stammered,
- “Yes, yes… Of course, I understood that right away. Everyone’s free to have fun however they like.”
- “You didn’t have to spy.”
I exclaimed,
- “I wasn’t spying! It was pure chance.”
- “Leaning over like that? I don’t think so.”
Instead of denying it, I gathered my courage, looked her straight in the eye, and said,
- “That young woman on the bed—I’d have loved to be in her place.”
Her shocked expression met my timid smile. She stared at me, outraged, and without another word, turned on her heel and walked off, her heels clicking, her stockings swishing between her thighs.
Will I ever have a chance to change her mind?
If only…
To be continued.
