It is an scoop club ... men only, if the figure was n't hint enough ... The Gentlemen. That 's all I know about it from you. And I 'd have never even known that often if it had n't been for a trip of your spit. I had n't sought any contingent ... it sounded deadening, besides you never seem to attend any club coming together or the cabaret did not see often..

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

Something catches my eye ... looks like a wedding invite ... gold on grey. I pick it up and see that it 's an invite to The Gentlemen 's council. The stationery is impressive, elegant. Inside the envelope there 's a card that just has the gens of what I assume is a villa or chateau. And the most interesting part is a brass 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 record on the shelf ... and I turn around and say `` So, your club 's finally meeting. '' You continue belting up and just answer with an `` Ahaan ''. Well, your response is as drill as I expect the clubhouse action are. I laugh and honorable mention that probably the club is wide-cut of old, moneyed men whose mind 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 kiss me and slide one hand inside my denim and I soon leave all about the cabaret.

Back home, all I can think of is how you fucked me on your bed, in your family. That 's like up there in my tilt of adventures. I get busy with work though still glowing with triumph and expiation. Lying down to sleep at Nox, I am reminded of the invite ... especially the key. I think I will ask you to give me the key for keepsake if you are n't attending the 'council'. With nothing punter to do, I run a search for 'The valet'on Google. zero of any relevance turns up ... besides the search term is n't exactly exclusive. Then, on a hunch, I search for the address/name on the identity card ... I was right ... a chateau. My inwardness wants a new adventure.

While talking to you on the earphone, I casually ask your design for Saturday ( 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 estimate how I 'd sneak in or what the aftermath would be if I get caught. My plan is to escape the present moment I see your car in the drive.

Saturday 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 piss you off. I am out of the theater at 12 and parkway to the chateau, all the while thinking about what penalty you 'd turn over me for my infraction if I get caught. I do n't reckon 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 short away and walk to the gate. The safeguard 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 people. I assume he is talking about the council ... which it seems is a company. I nod this meter and he lets me through. This is poor fish. What am I doing here ? Does the sentry duty not know that it 's only for men or maybe it is just a party and women are allowed. But why would you not tell me that ... you take me to all sorts of political party ... why is this different ? ! I am mad at myself for coming down here. I do n't want to hump anything ... not anymore. I turn to go back, but the sentry go has left his post and is now guiding me towards the chateau. He crosses the front entree and walks to a position, and when I wait, he gestures towards a door at the side. He knocks on the door and a Philippine maid opens it. He says something in Arabic and she looks at me and gestures me to travel along. With a suspiration, 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 severalise me that I look old. That 's a Wyrd 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 piazza to take one of your first of all 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the room. It is grand, yet elegant ... scream of money ... but very neat. I love the situation. I know you would love the plaza. She then leaves to get me something to pledge. She comes back with a tray with a bottle of wine-coloured 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. She says it helps and adds that it seems it is my first fourth dimension. Frankly, the conversation is scaring me. I am about to tell her that I do n't want to take care the political party after all when this vast guy walks 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 make yet. Then he picks up the bottle and thrusts it under my nose and growls that I drink it up and soon. I do involve a drink ... what have I gotten myself into. I take the bottleful from him and pour myself a chalk ... the way he looks at me, I practically gulp down the wine. It hits me like a string ... I have a problem with fast boozing ... 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 amah, takes the bottleful away from me. I am floating ... at to the lowest degree, my head is. I can palpate bridge player on me ... gripping my arms tight ... lifting me off the chair. It 's the brute. I want to blackguard and punch him. He is gentle as he starts to undress me ... I am horrified but I can barely maintain up my principal to protest. I think I am au naturel ... I feel nude. The maid and the animal, beauty and the beast, are doing something to me, to my organic structure and brass ... is it composition. 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 experience light, euphoric and I feel break. I look down at myself and I am wearing a belly dancer 's costume ... except I have pasties instead of a blouse. The serail pants are string up pearl ... if I move my ramification, they office ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my feet and expression at my thoughtfulness. I look good and I look young. I 'd shaved down there in the morning time in prevision of our 7 PM tryst ... but it 's never quiet and I did n't have sentence to go to the salon for a Brazilian. But someone had given me one ... I was soft to the mite. I wondered if it was the brute or the maid. I hoped it was the brute.

The amah 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 beast was standing over a bed on a streetcar ... it was a piddling 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 whiplash. He shackled my articulatio radiocarpea on the top of the bed and my legs to the bottom corners with leather lash attached to metal ringing. 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 mantle that 's used by magician. Wait ... am I the magicians bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the fragile virtuoso of illumination. The totally appliance with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could see vocalization, laughter ... the party ? And as the rolling stopped, a hush fell. It felt unreal. Deprived of the sense of view, I felt my early skunk were suddenly sharper. I did n't love if I was the merely woman in the room ... or hall.

I wondered if you were there. And panicked at the intellection. As I bit my lips, trying to think of an escape route, a male vocalization started talking. His voice was observance as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in years at the behest of our old premier. Now that he has moved on we have chosen our new Chancellor and we are here today to officially confront him with the ring and shield. 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 ... damn ... and you are obviously here if this ceremony is for you ! But why am I here ?

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

'' She shall now be presented to His Excellency. He shall have the first kiss and the low fuck and for his pinna will be her first moan and her first belly laugh and her for the first time drop of blood. Bring forth the maiden. ``

I am rolled to a diaphragm a little ahead and I just have a consequence to compose my brass before I hear a whoosh that suggests the curtain 's up ! And a knifelike inhalation of breath ... which has to be yours. There is absolute silence, and just the sound of footsteps walking towards me. And then the slide of metal against leather ... a sword, perhaps a dagger ! I guess you 'd require to vote out me now ... what with me being practically naked in front of your club ! I suddenly feel a acuate pin mother fucker between my breasts and I feel you close, I can smell your perfume and the cigaret as your warm breath black eye on my mouth. I feel the candy kiss. It is not furious, but your susurration 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 interference like people milling about ... is everyone leaving ? I hope so. Or maybe it would be better protection from you if they stay.

You are back with me and so is that pin prick which I assume is a sticker. You trace my bare breasts with it and conjure the tip on the right wing pastie. I bite my lips and whisper a sorry. With a sudden movement, you nick me below my leash bone, drawing stemma. It stings but your lips cover the cut and you lick the bead of origin. Then you kiss me and I can savour the metal preference of my rip. I ask you if everyone else has left the room. I can almost finger you smile dangerously when you reply that you are going to fuck me hard till I beg and scream in front end of all those watching. You tell me that you are going to cut away what little I am wearing and let everyone see me bare. And then you are going to forget me. I am almost in tears.

You cut off the leather lash freeing me from the shackles. I feel the rush of lineage back in my arms. Instinctively my paw move to my blindfold but you hold my wrists and tear them away from my side ... and you turn me around and push me towards something made of wood by the touch ... a chair back, a guillotine ... I do n't get laid ! Then you have me bend over at the waist with the forest supporting me and snap on cuff on my wrists behind me. Your hands contribution the beads of my harem knickers and you softly palm my exposed bum brass. When you take your deal away the beads fall back covering me up. You mutter something and then succeeding I feel is the sticker in the waistline set of my pants and an upwardly poke and the beaded pant slink down my legs. 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 century bees on my bum which could only signify a cat-o-nine flogger. I squeeze my oculus shut and try to will away the painfulness as blow after blow falls on my bum. Some of the string snap against my slit rim and it 's like my bottom is on firing. I bite my tongue to avoid screaming but I ca n't stop from whimpering aloud. When I feel your palm on my bottom again, I am almost relieved but it 's short because you spank me hard ... raining tight and mean to hurt slaps. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and work me around towards you. I can barely stick out. `` Hope that felt good ... as much as it felt for me. '' `` Please, drop curtain 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 knees, you slut. ``

I kneel down, teardrop streaming down my side, stinging me at my collar osseous tissue where you cut me. I ca n't serve but believe that I so love to be treated uncut by you ... but not like this ... not with people watching. It is fine 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 injurious. You rip of the pasties off my teat. It hurts like nether region. I try to be unemotional person and focalise on pleasing you as you push your hammer into my mouth. It sort of assistant me get together my senses ... 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 shaft, wrapping my rim and bobbing my head on your stopcock when you pull my hair and defend my head in plaza while you proceed to face fuck me at your own, extremely scratchy pace. When you come, you come all over my look, my neck and my chest. I try to get up but the pants at my ankles makes me trip. You hold me before I fall ... I am wash up ... and I am in painful sensation. A little gentler than before, you make me sit on the bed ... and then you undo my handcuff from behind and cuff them back up in front. Then you push me till I lie matt on my rear and tie my cuffed wrists to the hamper. You push my legs far apart and when I try to close them, you tell me that you want everyone to see what a squeamish pussy the piffling slut has. I feel something difficult being pushed into my cunt ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels painful. The feel like beads, tumid single ... maybe some sort of dildo. Suddenly, it vibrates and then stops and vibrates again. Your finger finds my button and you tease it in sync with the shakiness. `` ejaculate for your consultation, slut ! exhibit them what a trained slut you are. ``

I close my eye and try to transport us to my bedroom ... all this should have had me orgasming multiple times then. That helps ... and I start to get wet. I am shaken from my revery when you flog my breasts. I twist and writhe to ward off it but the filament land unerringly. I had managed to not holler until now but combined with the vibrator and your ministration to my button ... it all comes out in a screech, shuddering sexual climax. I almost expect loud hand clapping but there 's only silence. I am still shuddering from that explosive orgasm when you untie my blindfold and tilt the bed straight. There was no one in the way ... just you and me. Relief floods through me and almost gives me another orgasm. You lean in close as you undo my handcuffs and whispering that it is n't over for me. The real penalisation is what I will be getting back dwelling house .