The Apartment Pt. 03


This is the 3rd and final part of the tale of Heather and Caroline.

You need to have read the first two parts.

This is a love story. There is some sex in it, some fetish content and one small bit of BDSM.

It’s a very slow burn so if you need a quick fix please go elsewhere.

If you have access to Classical Music – the romantics amongst you should play a piece that is referenced in the story towards the end of the tale. This is Hugo Afvens :- Swedish Rhapsodie No1 Op.# 19, (annotated in the story by simply Play Hugo)

It defines the mood at the Midsummer’s Eve concert…

As usual all characters are well over the age of 18.


I dried my eyes and felt for my phone. There was no signal…

I was furious with myself. My selfishness had clouded my judgement completely. I’d gone to the wrong Temple. She was a virtuous girl, I was the one with the vices…

It was now 10.16. I knew it was pointless, but I dashed out of the Temple and re-traced my steps back to the junction of the path at the top of the lakes.

As I was running, I tried to think why Heather had put me through the ordeal. What was her motive? I just couldn’t see an obvious one. We had been so happy together on Friday evening and all day yesterday. What was the point? What had gone wrong..?

I got back to the junction by 10.24. Quickly checking the map I headed for the Temple of British Worthies. As I approached, it was obvious it was more of an arc shaped shrine, with a lake in front of it, than a building. I could see lots of alcoves with a bust in each of them, but no obvious Temple.

More importantly there was nobody there…

I sat on the steps at the front. My lungs were burning from the run, I was out of breath.

She was gone, exactly as she said she would be if I was late. I put my head in my hands and cried…

A little while later, someone tapped me on the shoulder and said in a gentle voice,

“Is everything alright dearie?”

I looked up to see an elderly man with a white beard.

“Umm yes fine…I was meant to meet a friend here and I seem to have missed her.

I don’t suppose you saw her did you? She’s about 30, with long auburn hair?”

“Well come to think of it I did see a young woman down by the gate a few minutes ago. She was in a deep discussion with a bloke about the same age.”

“What was he like?”

“Well I can’t say I exactly noticed, but he was tall and I suppose you would say he had light brown hair and a beard. But not lush like mine, one of those “designer” beards I suppose you would call it.”

“Oh thanks.” It wasn’t Stephen then, and it probably wasn’t even Heather…

“What colour was her hair? Can you remember?”

“Not sure’s I can.. Do you want me to help you up?” he looked genuinely concerned.

“No I’m fine really, just had a bit of a shock that’s all,” and I picked myself up and headed for the exit.

“You take care of yisself now,” he shouted after me.


I have no recollection of the drive home. I parked and then rushed up the stairs to the apartment. I wasn’t sure what I’d find when I got there. Perhaps a note? Perhaps Heather? Was she in the living room sitting and giggling about how I’d failed at her “game”…?

When I opened the door though, there was no note and no Heather. I dropped my hold-all and the picnic basket on the floor and collapsed on to the sofa.

Time passed. I gazed into space. I felt numb. I’d really screwed everything up.

I found my phone and dialled her number. It went to voicemail..
“Heather it’s Caro? Look I’m so sorry for messing the game up. It was a mistake, I misjudged you. I was stupid and selfish. I’m sorry…Please call me…I just want to apologise properly, and to say thank you for such a lovely time..”

I rang off. As I put the phone down I remembered I had her keys. I dashed upstairs to number 16 and knocked on the door.

No answer. I unlocked and went in.

“Hello? Is anybody home? Heather…It’s Caro. Are you there??”

No response. I walked into the living room. No Heather…

As I looked round I realised there was no Solomon either…

I went into the master bedroom and opened the drawers in the chest.


Every trace of her was gone, the only thing left was the furniture…

Tears ran down my cheeks, I rushed out of the door, downstairs and back to the safety of my apartment.


That first week after her disappearance, I abandoned my work and spent my time looking for her.

To start with I was dis-organised. I was so upset my brain wasn’t functioning properly. I tried phoning her every hour. I went back up to her apartment and combed it for clues. I even waited for the postman to try and intercept her mail.

it was all to no avail – Heather had vanished…

I thought about going to the Police and declaring her as a misper, but fortunately came to my senses before I made a fool of myself..

She wasn’t a misper. For some reason she had found it necessary to break off our relationship..

It etiler escort was as simple as that. All I needed to do was work out why, where she had gone and how I could get her back.

By Tuesday night, I was becoming more objective. I went into my workroom and opened my computer. On a spreadsheet I created three columns, Who, What and Where. I then filled in everything I could remember about Heather.

After an hour or so I studied my achievements. It was a pathetic list.

The first line simply read Heather Barnard.

Under “Who” I had Stephen, Twin Brother Barnard and Twin Sister Barnard. I didn’t have Christian names for them, nor was I sure she shared parents with them.

“What” simply had Credit Card Company and Ministry

“Where” had Apartment, Work, Singapore and Stowe.

I hadn’t cried for a day or so, but when I looked at my efforts, tears filled my eyes again. I turned off the light and went to bed.


Wednesday turned out to be the hottest day of the year. The early morning sun blazing through the blinds pulled me from my slumbers. The sun, and a strong espresso, had sharpened my wits though, and I was soon on the computer adding to the spreadsheet.

To the “Who” I added Cindy, and to the “Where”, after a little work on the web, I was able to add Stowe Castle as the correct address for the cottage.

By 10am, dressed in my coolest linen, I was on the M1 heading south, an appointment with Cindy for a massage already arranged for the following day.

As I was driving I pondered as to why Heather had chosen to play the “game” with me the previous Sunday. I could only see three reasons.

1/ She hadn’t got the guts to tell me she didn’t want to continue our relationship.

2/ She wasn’t able to continue our relationship.

3/ She was testing me again, particularly my virtue, ( I had failed miserably so far on that count..).


At my third acquaintance with them, the gardens of Stowe were even more magnificent than they had been on the first two visits. Bathed in bright sunshine, the contrast between the golden limestone arches, the verdant countryside, and dark limpid lakes almost took my breath away. My mood was neither as happy as it had been on Saturday or as desperate as it had been on Sunday.

I bought a more comprehensive Guide Book at the Gatehouse, and set about retracing my steps from both previous visits. I had no idea what I was looking for, just a feeling that the secret to unlocking the mystery of Heather’s disappearance was there to be found.

After an hour and a half I had sore feet and was clueless. I returned to the car and made my way to Stowe Castle and the cottage, scene of our beautiful evening…

The cottage was locked up, and like its neighbours, lifeless. The scent from the roses in their gardens was heavy in the warm air and made me feel light headed…I felt so close to her but still so far away…

Turning to go back to the car I noticed that the cottage opposite was a Tea Room, open every day except Wednesday. I made a note of the phone number. I wondered if I could learn more about who owned the cottage if I asked there.

Later, sitting at home drinking tea, I wanted to delete off my spreadsheet all the blind alleys I had been up, but I was too depressed to physically do it…


Thursday was nearly as warm. It was approaching midsummer.

I dressed in tee shirt, shorts and trainers and made my way to Cindy’s for my appointment. I had low expectation that I would learn anything but was looking forward to the relaxation.

Cindy was friendly and expresssed surprise I was back so soon.

“I suppose she’s sent you back to get waxed huh?”

“Er no, it’s just a basic massage I want,” I said.

“Do you need the special oil?” She asked.

“No, Not today thanks.”

We went into the Treatment room and whilst Cindy organised towels and put the smooth stones in an oven to warm, I undressed. I felt slightly awkward when I got down to my bra and knickers as I realised they didn’t match. I felt even more awkward when I peeled them off and looked down at my mons. There was a noticeable shadow of stubble appearing and I hadn’t given it a thought..

I got up on the table but didn’t bother covering myself. It seemed futile as Cindy already knew all my nooks and crannies. I lay back and waited.

As she had the last time, she looked and felt my body over with care and attention before commencing with the towels.

“So she shaved you then?” Her bluntness inevitably made me blush.

“I did it myself actually.” I lied.

“Whatever… if I were you I’d come back and get a wax in about three weeks. It’s a lot kinder to your skin and doesn’t hurt that much, especially if you want to go bare.”

“Yes. Of course. I’ll make an appointment before I leave.”

I hoped that would be the end of any humiliation, but as it turned out it wasn’t.

When she had finished rubbing me down with towels she closed the blinds, dimmed the lights and turned on the sound system.

The gebze escort haunted violin from Vaughn Williams’ Lark Ascending drifted into the room. A sprinkle of oil and she was soon creating her magic on my limbs with her hands.

I found it difficult to relax even with the music pulling me into its dreamy melodies. My mind was focused on the questions I wanted to ask her. After about ten minutes though, languor set in and my body started to send messages to my brain that there was still pleasure on the earth to be had if I was prepared to give it a chance.

When she turned me over onto my stomach and started with the hot stones I decided the pleasure was too good to spoil and Let myself go. As her fingers and the stones worked lower my skin started to tingle with pleasure. By the time her first finger slipped down between my bottom cheeks I knew I was going to be slick with juice.

“You’re very damp,” Cindy said, matter of factly.. “I have something I need. Wait a minute,” and she disappeared off behind me.

The hum of the vibrator could barely be heard over the background music, and when Cindy slid it down between my legs it made me jump.

She used the vibrator as if it was an extension of her hands. She started with the gentlest of caresses to my labia, and just occasionally she moved it inside my lips and up to my clitoris. Her other hand danced up and down my back and around my bottom, gently pinching and kneading as she went…

I lay passively, I had no energy, I wanted the world to stop for a while. Cindy it seemed felt my mood. She slowed her movements down. The ripples of pleasure from the vibe slowly started doing their work. I could feel my moisture seeping out, and my clitoris was swollen with desire.

Finally, like a virtuoso commanding her instrument, Cindy took control of my building pleasure and thrust the vibe deep into my pussy whilst caressing my button. An urgent spasm heralded the inevitable, and I came and came in her hands, fluid squirting from my pussy…

I slumped down on the table, exhausted and embarrassed about the mess I had made.

Thank God, Cindy made no comment, and as she had the last time, left the room whilst I regained my composure…

Later, as she was towelling me down, her fingers working their way round my openings, I stole myself and started my inquisition.

“Cindy, I was wondering if you might be able to help me?”

“I will if I can.”

“Well its about Heather.”


“Yes, Heather. You see we have had a bit of an argument, and I’ve sort of lost touch with her…I was wondering if you might be able to help?”

“How?” her voice was laden with scepticism.

“Well I wondered if you could get a message to her, as she does not return my calls?”

“I don’t think that would be appropriate, and I don’t think I’ve any contact details for her any more,” she said firmly. “She’s always been rather hit and miss about keeping in touch has Heather. Listen, you get dressed and then come through to the Den. It’s the first door on the left.”

She left me to it. I got down off the table and pulled on my clothes.

Feeling slightly more optimistic I made my way down the corridor and opened the door to the Den. Cindy was sitting behind a large mahogany desk facing me. Spectacles were on her nose and she was typing on her computer.

There was a surprise for me though, as there was another person in the room slightly hidden behind the door.

Lying on her back on an examination bench with her legs raised and secured on leg supports was a woman. She was difficult to age, thin with very pale skin and small prominent breasts. Her arms were clamped to the raised arms of the bench so she was immobile. A large black ball gag was forced between her lips. It distorted her pretty face, which was surrounded by a mass of dark hair. She studied me watchfully with her large blue eyes.

Cindy beckoned me to an upright chair in front of the desk, Sitting down I had full view of the woman’s body, it was a disturbing but rather enticing sight. I found it hard to tear my eyes away from her, displayed as she was in the most lewd but vulnerable manner.

“Ignore Portia if you don’t mind Caroline. She has been rather headstrong this morning so I have had to restrain her. She doesn’t seem to want to have her clitoris ringed, which is what her mistress has booked her in for.”

“Ringed?” I nearly choked.

“Yes ringed – a 9 carat gold sealed ring, located behind the bud but through the hood. Creates lots of unpredictable stimulation.”

“I see,” and this time I really did begin to see that Cindy was no ordinary masseuse, and I was out of my depth…

“So,” she went on, “as I suspected, I have no up to date contact numbers on my system.. The last address I have for her was when she lived at the family home in Buckingham, but I know her mother sold that and moved to London. There is an e mail address, but I don’t think it’s active as I haven’t had anything from her for years. Sorry I can’t be of any help.”

“Could you give me göztepe escort the e mail address anyway?”

“I don’t see why not.” She opened a drawer, pulled out a postcard and started writing on it.

“Thanks. One other thing I was wondering was when you actually met Heather? I was just curious?”

“Oh that’s easy to tell. Heather was referred to me when I was working in Stowe after her skiing accident. You know, she was a dancer at the time, and the orthopaedic surgeon referred her to me to help with the rehabilitation of her ankle.”

“I see.” I could barely contain my excitement at this new knowledge. “So you worked at Stowe?”

“Yes it was when I first came to the UK. Probably five years ago now. I had two jobs, one at the Stowe Surgery and one at a School doing physiotherapy. Then, when I saved enough money I moved up here. I met my partner two years ago and we bought this place.”

“It’s a lovely place, and I think your treatments are amazing.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you like them. I think you’re very sexually repressed and I’m enjoying waking you up to a world of possibilities…So here’s your bill for today. Cash or credit card?

I reached into my bag and found my purse. Just at that moment, Portia started groaning loudly. She was clearly in some sort of distress. I handed Cindy the £30.

“Oh do shut up Portia,” Cindy hissed. “I will get to you in a minute…”

Portia squealed again, and then the cause of her distress became all too evident as a small hissing sound could be heard and a pool of pee started to collect under the bench. A slightly ammoniacal smell reached my nose…

“Now look what you have done.” Cindy bellowed. “Sorry Caroline, is there anything else I can help you with?

“No…no that’s been very helpful,” and I stood there for a moment, mesmerised by what I had just witnessed.

“Give me a call to make another appointment soon if you need to talk some more…right Portia lets get you cleaned up you horrid girl. I think as a punishment for your weak bladder we might give you a nice soapy enema so you are ready for your little procedure…”

Portia squealed in horror, and I decided to leave them to it. I’d seen quite enough…


Armed with new information, my mood lightened considerably. I almost skipped back to the apartment and updated my spreadsheet. I spent a couple of hours on the web researching Heather’s dance career and skiing accident, but there didn’t appear to be anything on any of the search engines. I was almost back to square one…except for the e mail address.

I made myself some lunch and sat down on the sofa to compose a mail.

In the end, concerned about who else might read it I just asked her to mail me or call my mobile, and signed it Caroline with one kiss. I sat and watched the Inbox for a while, willing there to be a reply, but nothing came.

Sitting waiting, my mind wandered back to Cindy and her business. She was clearly providing trusted customers slightly more than what a normal beauty salon did. How did all that start? Heather had been quite up front about how special Cindy’s services were when I’d first met her.

A vague idea started to crystallise in my head. I picked up my keys and headed back to her house.

“Oh, it’s you again. You’d better come in,” and she headed down the corridor to the Den.

“What do you want?” She asked pointing to the chair in front of the desk again. I closed the door.

Portia was still tied firmly to the bench. The ball gag was no longer in place and her pretty facial features were properly visible. Also visible, as I sat down and faced her, was her freshly waxed prominent mons and a small gold ring lying on a very swollen clitoris.

“Is that how it should look after the piercing, she looks very swollen?” I asked, my inquisitiveness getting the better of me.

“Yes, she’s doing fine now. She won’t be able to masturbate for a few days, whilst it heals, but then she should find that she won’t be able to keep her fingers away. It’s going to create some gorgeous tension between her and her mistress, and I’d imagine Portia’s bottom is going to be the recipient of severe punishment if she’s caught trying to pleasure herself. Anyway, enough of her, what do you want Caroline? You’ve clearly got something on your mind to have come back so quickly..”

“I want to know about your relationship with Heather. You did have a relationship didn’t you?”

“Well yes.”

“And it was sexual wasn’t it?”


“So why did it end?”

“Well, it just did…” She was being evasive, I just knew there was something here to uncover..

“Come on Cindy, tell me what really happened.”

“I don’t think I want to, it was a while ago now. It doesn’t matter any more. I’ve met Carla and we are very happy together.”

“Please? It’s important. I’m extremely attracted to Heather. She and I have developed quite a strong attachment. I need to understand why she has vanished?”

Cindy paused. She looked over her glasses and smiled.

“Caroline, you’re not the first woman on this planet who has been infatuated by Heather Barnard. To my knowledge you’re the fourth or fifth, and one of the others was me. If she were a man she would be described as a womaniser. I’m not sure what the correct terminology for a similar woman, especially in this day and age.

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