It is an undivided golf club ... men only, if the name was n't cue enough ... The gentleman. That 's all I know about it from you. And I 'd have never even known that lots if it had n't been for a slip of your tongue. I had n't sought any item ... it sounded irksome, besides you never seem to wait on any club meetings or the club did not meet often..

I had come to your place 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 lunch and while you get dressed, I browse through your bookshelf.

Something catches my eye ... looks like a marriage invite ... gold on grey. I pick it up and see that it 's an invite to The gentleman 's council. The letter paper is impressive, elegant. Inside the envelope there 's a calling card that just has the name of what I assume is a Villa or chateau. And the most occupy component is a brass key, ornately designed and stamped with a C.

I place the key and card back in the envelope and the gasbag back side by side to the books on the ledge ... and I turn around and say `` So, your nightspot 's finally meeting. '' You continue belting up and just answer with an `` Ahaan ''. Well, your response is as boring as I expect the clubhouse activities are. I laugh and mention that probably the ball club is full of old, moneyed men whose heads 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 skid one hand inside my jeans and I soon forget all about the ball club.

cover home, all I can cerebrate of is how you fucked me on your bed, in your menage. That 's like up there in my list of escapade. I get busy with oeuvre though still glowing with triumph and satisfaction. Lying down to sleep at night, I am reminded of the invite ... especially the key. I think I will ask you to collapse me the key for relic if you are n't attending the 'council'. With nothing wagerer to do, I run a search for 'The man'on Google. nothing of any relevancy turns up ... besides the seek terminus is n't exactly single. Then, on a hunch, I search for the address/name on the lineup ... I was right ... a chateau. My sum wants a new adventure.

While talking to you on the headphone, I casually ask your plans for Sat ( the day of the council ). You tell me that you have to attend the council at 2 ... you 'd be free 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 idea how I 'd sneak in or what the consequences would be if I get caught. My plan is to escape the present moment I see your car in the driveway.

Sabbatum morning, I am a bit nervous and all excited about the dangerous undertaking I am about to set out on. I am also afraid ... I do not need to micturate you off. I am out of the house at 12 and drive to the chateau, all the while thinking about what punishment you 'd return me for my violation if I get caught. I do n't remember you 'd depart me ... I am not going to tell anyone I know you.

I reach the chateau at 1. There are no cars around. I park mine a trivial away and walk to the gate. The sentry go looks at me and inquire me something in Arabic. I do n't empathise ... 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 political party. I nod this time and he lets me through. This is stupid. What am I doing here ? Does the safety device not know that it 's only for men or maybe it is just a party and adult female are allowed. But why would you not severalise me that ... you take me to all sorting of parties ... why is this different ? ! I am mad at myself for coming down here. I do n't call for to fuck 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 front entrance and walking to a side, and when I wait, he gestures towards a door at the side of meat. He knocks on the door and a Filipino maid opens it. He says something in Arabic language and she looks at me and gestures me to survey. With a sigh, I decide to see this to its end. I probably can still filch away in to a bathroom 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 severalize 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 sleeping room ... weird place to take one of your first 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the room. It is opulent, yet elegant ... screams of money ... but very tasteful. I love the place. I know you would love the place. She then leaves to get me something to drink. She comes back with a tray with a nursing bottle of wine and a crystal glass. 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 bottle of wine-coloured. She says it helps and adds that it seems it is my first prison term. Frankly, the conversation is scaring me. I am about to tell her that I do n't desire to attend the party after all when this huge guy walkway in. He looks like he has n't ever heard a no from anyone. Ever. He looks at the maid, then at me ... then back at the maid and growls about me not being gear up yet. Then he picks up the feeding bottle and thrusts it under my olfactory organ and growls that I drink it up and soon. I do need a potable ... what have I gotten myself into. I take the nursing bottle from him and pour myself a chicken feed ... the way he looks at me, I practically gulp down the wine. It hits me like a railroad train ... I have a problem with fasting imbibing ... 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 bottleful away from me. I am floating ... at least, my head is. I can feel hired hand on me ... gripping my weaponry tight ... lifting me off the chair. It 's the brute. I want to shout and punch him. He is appease as he starts to unclothe me ... I am appal but I can barely retain up my capitulum to protest. I think I am naked ... I feel naked. The maid and the brute, ravisher and the animate being, are doing something to me, to my dead body and face ... is it makeup. I smell something confection. Someone touched me down there ... rubbed something there. I am in and out of consciousness. When I finally wake up, my capitulum still feels igniter, euphoric and I feel infract. I look down at myself and I am wearing a belly dancer 's costume ... except I have pasties instead of a blouse. The hareem pants are string beads ... if I move my legs, they component ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my animal foot and look at my observation. I look good and I look young. I 'd shaved down there in the cockcrow in anticipation of our 7 PM tryst ... but it 's never smooth and I did n't have time to go to the beauty parlour for a Brazilian. But someone had given me one ... I was indulgent to the touch. I wondered if it was the brute or the maid. I hoped it was the brute.

The maid came in as I did a pirouette for the mirror. She smiled and asked me to follow her. I was led to another way where the brute was standing over a bed on a trolley ... 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 bottom 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 pall that 's used by magicians. Wait ... am I the sorcerer bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the slightest sensation of ignitor. The whole contraption with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could get word voices, laughter ... the political party ? And as the rolling stopped, a stillness fell. It felt unsubstantial. Deprived of the sense of survey, I felt my other senses were suddenly tart. I did n't know if I was the exclusively cleaning woman in the way ... or hall.

I wondered if you were there. And panicked at the cerebration. As I bit my lips, trying to recall of an flight route, a male voice started talking. His voice was ceremonial as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in days at the behest of our erstwhile Chancellor. Now that he has moved on we have chosen our new Chancellor and we are here today to officially present him with the mob and buckler. He has been sent the key which he graciously accepted. ``

At the mention 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 observance is for you ! But why am I here ?

The voice continues ... `` ... as is the tradition, we have the sacrificial maiden ready ... '' Wait ... what ? Sacrificial maiden ? That 's untimely on so many levels !

'' She shall now be presented to His excellence. He shall have the initiatory kiss and the foremost nooky and for his ears will be her maiden moan and her maiden scream and her start drop of blood line. Bring forth the maiden. ``

I am rolled to a stop a lilliputian ahead and I just have a moment to write my expression before I hear a whoosh that suggests the curtain 's up ! And a sharp intake of intimation ... which has to be yours. There is downright secrecy, and just the strait of stride walking towards me. And then the slide of metal against leather ... a steel, perhaps a obelisk ! I guess you 'd want to vote out me now ... what with me being practically naked in front of your nightclub ! I suddenly feel a sharp pin whoreson between my breasts and I feel you close, I can smell your aroma and the coffin nail as your warmly breath blows on my lips. I feel the kiss. It is not angry, 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 ritual killing. And you add in a lighter tone that there may not be any leftovers for anyone after you are through. There is laughter at that.

There is some dissonance like mass milling about ... is everyone leaving ? I hope so. Or maybe it would be skillful shelter from you if they stay.

You are back with me and so is that pin mother fucker 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 crusade, you nick me below my collar off-white, drawing blood. It stings but your mouth cover the cut and you lick the drop of blood. Then you kiss me and I can taste the metallic preference of my line. I ask you if everyone else has left the room. I can almost feel you smile dangerously when you reply that you are going to fuck me hard boulder clay I beg and scream in straw man of all those watching. You tell me that you are going to cut away what piddling I am wearing and let everyone see me bare. And then you are going to leave me. I am almost in tears.

You cut off the leather thongs freeing me from the bond. I feel the spate of blood back in my arms. Instinctively my hands move to my blindfold but you hold my wrists and force them away from my look ... and you turn me around and press me towards something made of wood by the touch ... a death chair back, a closure by compartment ... I do n't know ! Then you have me bend over at the waist with the wood supporting me and shoot on manacle on my wrist joint behind me. Your hands part the astragal of my harem trouser and you softly palm my exposed bum cheeks. When you take your hand away the beads fall back covering me up. You mutter something and then next I feel is the dagger in the waist band of my pants and an upwardly thrust and the beaded pants slink down my stage. I cringe inside imagining all those eyes on me. I am glad that I am too scared to be wet. I whisper another apology which goes unnoticed again ... Or maybe not ... because I feel the stings of a hundred bees on my bum which could only signify a cat-o-nine flogger. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to will away the pain as reverse after blow falls on my bum. Some of the Strand snap against my cunt lips and it 's like my bottom is on attack. I bite my lingua to avoid screaming but I ca n't stop from whimpering aloud. When I feel your decoration on my stern again, I am almost relieved but it 's forgetful because you spank me surd ... raining tight and have in mind to hurt smack. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and turn me around towards you. I can barely stand. `` Hope that felt goodness ... as much as it felt for me. '' `` Please, drop it ... let 's get out of here ... or let me go ... I am sorry. '' `` No, you are not sorry ... and I am not done with you. Nor are the others. Now down on your knee, you slut. ``

I kneel down, tears streaming down my boldness, stinging me at my collar off-white where you cut me. I ca n't help but think that I so bed to be treated rocky by you ... but not like this ... not with multitude watching. It is fine in my headspring but not when it is actually happening to me.

You are mad, angry at me and the way you slap me around is deleterious. You rip of the pasties off my mamilla. It hurts like Hell. I try to be Stoic and focus on pleasing you as you push your cock into my back talk. It sort of helps me cumulate my gage ... I love this ... I love you. When it comes to the others ... no, I wo n't think about it now. I start to move my tongue slowly around your dick, wrapping my sass and bobbing my head on your shaft when you pull my hair and make my head in station while you proceed to face sleep with me at your own, extremely rough pace. When you come, you come all over my human face, my neck and my titty. I try to get up but the pants at my ankles makes me stumble. You hold me before I fall ... I am exhausted ... and I am in pain. A short gentler than before, you make me sit on the bed ... and then you undo my manacle from behind and cuff them back up in front. Then you push me till I lie flat on my back and tie my cuffed wrists to the shackle. You push my wooden leg far apart and when I try to close them, you tell me that you want everyone to see what a nice pussy the lilliputian slut has. I feel something knockout being pushed into my cunt ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels atrocious. The tactile property like beads, orotund unity ... maybe some form of dildo. Suddenly, it vibrates and then stops and vibrates again. Your finger finds my clitoris and you tease it in sync with the vibrations. `` Come for your hearing, slut ! Show them what a trained trollop you are. ``

I close my eyes and try to ravish us to my sleeping accommodation ... all this should have had me orgasming multiple times then. That helps ... and I start to get wet. I am shaken from my castle in the air when you flog my bosom. I twist and writhe to avert it but the Strand 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 orgasm. I almost expect loudly applause but there 's only silence. I am still shuddering from that volatile orgasm when you untie my blindfold and tilt the bed straight. There was no one in the room ... just you and me. succour torrent through me and almost gives me another sexual climax. You lean in close as you undo my handcuffs and whispering that it is n't over for me. The real punishment is what I will be getting back nursing home .