It is an exclusive night club ... men only, if the gens was n't hint enough ... The gentleman's gentleman. That 's all I know about it from you. And I 'd get never even known that much if it had n't been for a teddy of your knife. I had n't sought any contingent ... it sounded boring, besides you never seem to take care any guild meeting or the club did not run into often..

I had come to your home unannounced ... your folks were in India and you would n't still let me come over if I 'd asked. You suggest that we go out for dejeuner and while you get dressed, I browse through your bookshelf.

Something taking into custody my eye ... looks like a wedding invite ... gold on grey. I pick it up and see that it 's an invite to The gentleman's gentleman 's council. The stationery is impressive, elegant. Inside the envelope there 's a bill that just has the name of what I assume is a Villa or chateau. And the most interesting piece is a brass section key, ornately designed and stamped with a C.

I place the key and card back in the envelope and the envelope back next to the books on the shelf ... and I turn around and say `` So, your guild 's finally encounter. '' You continue belting up and just suffice with an `` Ahaan ''. fountainhead, your answer is as oil production as I expect the club activities are. I laugh and reference that probably the order is good of old, moneyed men whose point float up in the clouds ... looks like that from the invite.

You reply with `` yes ... as old as I am. '' Then you grab me and buss me and slide one hand inside my jeans and I soon forget all about the club.

Back domicile, all I can cogitate of is how you fucked me on your bed, in your home. That 's like up there in my list of risky venture. I get busy with work though still glowing with victory and satisfaction. Lying down to kip at night, I am reminded of the invite ... especially the key. I think I will ask you to give me the key for relic if you are n't attending the 'council'. With nothing better to do, I run a hunting for 'The valet de chambre'on Google. nix of any relevancy turns up ... besides the search term is n't exactly exclusive. Then, on a hunch, I search for the address/name on the card ... I was right ... a chateau. My heart wants a new adventure.

While talking to you on the telephone set, I casually ask your plans for Saturday ( the day of the council ). You tell me that you have to attend the council at 2 ... you 'd be justify by 7 and you 'd come over to my place.

After I hang up, I decide that I am going to be at the council on Saturday. I have no estimate how I 'd sneak in or what the consequences would be if I get caught. My plan is to escape the moment I see your car in the driveway.

Saturday morning, I am a bit flighty and all excited about the adventure I am about to set out on. I am also afraid ... I do not want to make you off. I am out of the business firm at 12 and driving to the chateau, all the piece thinking about what penalty you 'd give me for my misdemeanour if I get caught. I do n't consider you 'd impart me ... I am not going to tell anyone I know you.

I reach the chateau at 1. There are no automobile around. I park mine a lilliputian away and take the air to the gate. The precaution looks at me and asks me something in Arabic. I do n't understand ... so I shake my head. He repeats and adds the word 'party'in English. I assume he is talking about the council ... which it seems is a party. I nod this time and he lets me through. This is stupid. What am I doing here ? Does the guard not know that it 's only for men or maybe it is just a company and adult female are allowed. But why would you not severalise me that ... you take me to all sorts of parties ... why is this different ? ! I am mad at myself for coming down here. I do n't need to know anything ... not anymore. I turn to go back, but the guard has left his post and is now guiding me towards the chateau. He crosses the look entrance and walks to a side, and when I wait, he gestures towards a door at the English. He knocks on the door and a Filipino maid opens it. He says something in Arabic and she looks at me and motion me to follow. With a sigh, I decide to see this to its end. I probably can still sneak away in to a lavatory or something if I see you. The safety device leaves us and the maid turns to me, looks me over ... almost appraising me and then tells me that I look old. That 's a weird thing to say. I look askance at her and she adds that I am still pretty. Gee thanks ... Old and pretty. Whatever !

She takes me to one of the bedrooms ... weird place to bring one of your first 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the elbow room. It is luxurious, yet refined ... screech of money ... but very tasteful. I love the place. I know you would love the situation. She then leaves to get me something to drink. She comes back with a tray with a nursing bottle of wine and a quartz chalk. She tells me that it is better if I drink it all up before the event starts. I look up at her ... confused ... why drink the whole bottleful of wine. She says it helps and adds that it seems it is my first clock time. Frankly, the conversation is scaring me. I am about to tell her that I do n't want to attend the political party after all when this huge guy manner of walking in. He looks like he has n't ever try a no from anyone. Ever. He looks at the amah, then at me ... then back at the maid and growl about me not being ready yet. Then he picks up the nursing bottle and thrusts it under my intrude and growls that I drink it up and soon. I do need a drink ... what have I gotten myself into. I take the bottle from him and pour myself a ice ... the way he looks at me, I practically gulp down the wine-coloured. It hits me like a train ... I have a job with tight drinking ... maybe if I drink up, I 'll pass out and when I wake up I can just leave. I drink up directly from the bottle ... Someone, the maid, takes the bottle away from me. I am floating ... at least, my headspring is. I can feel mitt on me ... gripping my arms tight ... lifting me off the chairperson. It 's the beast. I want to scream and punch him. He is blue-blooded as he starts to unclothe me ... I am horrified but I can barely oblige up my pass to dissent. I think I am naked ... I feel au naturel. The maid and the wildcat, beauty and the beast, are doing something to me, to my body and face ... is it make-up. I smell something sweet. Someone touched me down there ... rubbed something there. I am in and out of cognizance. When I finally wake up, my head still feels light, euphoric and I feel violated. I look down at myself and I am wearing a belly dancer 's costume ... except I have pasties instead of a blouse. The harem gasp are string beads ... if I move my legs, they contribution ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my substructure and look at my rumination. I look proficient and I look younger. I 'd shaved down there in the morning in anticipation of our 7 PM tryst ... but it 's never smooth and I did n't have got time to go to the beauty parlour for a Brazilian. But someone had given me one ... I was diffuse to the pinch. I wondered if it was the brute or the maiden. I hoped it was the brute.

The housemaid came in as I did a pirouette for the mirror. She smiled and asked me to come her. I was led to another elbow room where the brute was standing over a bed on a tram ... it was a little wide for a hospital bed and too elaborate but that 's what it reminded me of. He asked me to lie down on it. I only hesitated for a moment before I saw his lash. He shackled my wrists on the top of the bed and my legs to the posterior corners with leather G-string attached to metal rings. I saw that the bed could be tilted 90 deg., and that 's what he did. Then he covered the standing bed with a circular curtain that 's used by magicians. Wait ... am I the wizard bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the flimsy whizz of light. The whole contraption with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could find out articulation, laughter ... the party ? And as the roll stopped, a hush fell. It felt insubstantial. Deprived of the sensory faculty of mickle, I felt my other mother wit were suddenly sharpie. I did n't know if I was the exclusively fair sex in the elbow room ... or hall.

I wondered if you were there. And panicked at the thought. As I bit my lips, trying to cerebrate of an escape route, a Male voice started talking. His vocalism was ceremony as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in years at the behest of our former prime minister. Now that he has moved on we have chosen our new prime minister and we are here today to officially present him with the ring and shield. He has been sent the key which he graciously accepted. ``

At the citation of the key I let out a whimper. You are the Chancellor, the C stamped on the key ... shit ... and you are obviously here if this ceremony is for you ! But why am I here ?

The phonation continues ... `` ... as is the custom, we have the sacrificial maiden over ready ... '' Wait ... what ? Sacrificial maiden over ? That 's wrongfulness on so many grade !

'' She shall now be presented to His Excellency. He shall have the first osculation and the commencement fuck and for his ears will be her commencement groan and her first belly laugh and her first drop curtain of blood. Bring forth the maiden over. ``

I am rolled to a stop a little ahead and I just have a minute to compose my face before I hear a whoosh that suggests the mantle 's up ! And a abrupt aspiration of breath ... which has to be yours. There is sheer silence, and just the phone of step walking towards me. And then the slide of metallic element against leather ... a sword, perhaps a obelisk ! I guess you 'd want to kill me now ... what with me being practically naked in front of your cabaret ! I suddenly feel a sharp pin prick between my chest and I feel you close, I can smell your scent and the cigarette as your warm intimation reverse on my backtalk. I feel the buss. It is not furious, but your whisper is. All you whisper is that I will pay for this ... dearly. Then I feel you turn away from me ... and you declare loud that you have accepted the sacrifice. And you add in a igniter timbre that there may not be any leftovers for anyone after you are through. There is laughter at that.

There is some noise like people milling about ... is everyone leaving ? I hope so. Or maybe it would be comfortably protection from you if they stay.

You are back with me and so is that pin dent which I assume is a dagger. You trace my bare breasts with it and press the tip on the right pastie. I bite my lips and whisper a sorry. With a sudden drift, you nick me below my pinch os, drawing bloodline. It stings but your lips cover the cut and you lick the drop curtain of roue. Then you kiss me and I can taste the metallic taste of my blood. I ask you if everyone else has left the room. I can almost sense you smile dangerously when you reply that you are going to fuck me arduous trough I beg and scream in front of all those watching. You tell me that you are going to cut away what little I am wearing and let everyone see me denude. And then you are going to go forth me. I am almost in tears.

You cut off the leather thongs freeing me from the shackles. I feel the rush of blood back in my blazon. Instinctively my hands move to my blindfold but you hold my wrists and pull them away from my facial expression ... and you turn me around and crowd me towards something made of wood by the spot ... a professorship back, a guillotine ... I do n't get laid ! Then you have me crouch over at the waist with the Wood supporting me and shoot on handcuff on my articulatio radiocarpea behind me. Your hands part the beads of my seraglio pants and you softly palm my exposed bum cheek. When you take your bridge player away the beads fall back covering me up. You mutter something and then adjacent I feel is the obelisk in the waistline band of my knickers and an upward stab and the beaded pants slink down my legs. I cringe inside imagining all those center on me. I am gladiola that I am too scared to be wet. I whisper another apology which goes unnoticed again ... Or maybe not ... because I feel the con of a hundred bees on my bum which could only mean a cat-o-nine scourger. I squeeze my center shut and try to will away the pain as reverse after blow falls on my bum. Some of the chain snap against my puss lips and it 's like my fundament is on fire. I bite my spit to stave off screaming but I ca n't terminate from whimpering aloud. When I feel your palm on my bottom again, I am almost relieved but it 's suddenly because you spank me hard ... raining sozzled and imply to bruise slap. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and turn me around towards you. I can barely resist. `` Hope that felt estimable ... as much as it felt for me. '' `` Please, drop it ... let 's get out of here ... or let me go ... I am blue. '' `` No, you are not bad ... and I am not done with you. Nor are the others. Now down on your articulatio genus, you slut. ``

I kneel down, tears streaming down my face, stinging me at my collar osseous tissue where you cut me. I ca n't help but think that I so love to be treated gravelly by you ... but not like this ... not with people watching. It is ticket in my head but not when it is actually happening to me.

You are mad, raging at me and the way you slap me around is deleterious. You rip of the pasties off my mammilla. It hurts like hell. I try to be stoic and rivet on pleasing you as you push your cock into my mouth. It sort of helps me gather my pot ... I love this ... I love you. When it comes to the others ... no, I wo n't think about it now. I start to incite my natural language slowly around your putz, wrapping my rim and bobbing my head on your cock when you pull my hair and hold my head in blank space while you proceed to face jazz me at your own, extremely raspy pace. When you come, you come all over my face, my neck opening and my white meat. I try to get up but the pants at my ankle makes me slip. You hold me before I fall ... I am exhausted ... and I am in botheration. A little gentler than before, you make me sit on the bed ... and then you undo my cuff from behind and whomp them back up in front line. Then you push me till I lie flat on my spinal column and tie my cuffed wrists to the bond. You push my wooden leg far apart and when I try to fill up them, you tell me that you want everyone to see what a squeamish pussy the little trollop has. I feel something intemperate being pushed into my cunt ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels terrible. The feel like beads, large 1 ... maybe some form of dildo. Suddenly, it vibrates and then stops and vibrates again. Your fingerbreadth finds my clit and you tease it in sync with the quiver. `` semen for your audience, slut ! Show them what a take slut you are. ``

I close my optic and try to channelise us to my sleeping room ... all this should consume had me orgasming multiple clock time then. That helps ... and I start to get wet. I am shaken from my air castle when you flog my chest. I twist and writhe to avoid it but the string land unerringly. I had managed to not scream until now but combined with the vibrator and your ministrations to my clit ... it all comes out in a screaming, shuddering sexual climax. I almost expect meretricious applause but there 's only silence. I am still shuddering from that explosive sexual climax when you untie my blindfold and slant the bed straight. There was no one in the room ... just you and me. Relief flood lamp through me and almost gives me another orgasm. You lean in close as you undo my cuff and susurration that it is n't over for me. The material punishment is what I will be getting back house .