It is an exclusive club ... men only, if the name was n't hint enough ... The valet. That 's all I know about it from you. And I 'd cause never even known that much if it had n't been for a mooring of your tongue. I had n't sought any detail ... it sounded oil production, besides you never seem to wait on any club meetings or the cabaret did not match often..

I had come to your place unannounced ... your folk 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 catches my eye ... looks like a wedding party invite ... gold on Grey. I pick it up and see that it 's an invite to The Gentlemen 's council. The stationery is telling, refined. Inside the envelope there 's a card that just has the epithet of what I assume is a Villa or chateau. And the most occupy part is a brass key, ornately designed and stamped with a C.

I place the key and placard back in the gasbag and the envelope back succeeding to the books 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 ''. wellspring, your reaction is as boring as I expect the club activities are. I laugh and reference that probably the cabaret is full of old, moneyed men whose heads float up in the cloud ... looks like that from the invite.

You reply with `` yes ... as old as I am. '' Then you grab me and snog me and slither one manus inside my blue jean and I soon draw a blank all about the club.

Back dwelling, all I can recall of is how you fucked me on your bed, in your firm. That 's like up there in my leaning of adventures. I get busy with employment though still glowing with victory and satisfaction. Lying down to log Z's at night, I am reminded of the invite ... especially the key. I think I will ask you to fall in me the key for keepsakes if you are n't attending the 'council'. With zip wagerer to do, I run a lookup for 'The gentleman's gentleman'on Google. Nothing of any relevancy turns up ... besides the look term is n't exactly exclusive. Then, on a suspicion, I search for the address/name on the carte ... I was right ... a chateau. My heart wants a new adventure.

While talking to you on the phone, I casually ask your plans for Sat ( the day of the council ). You tell me that you have to wait on 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 lift in or what the consequences would be if I get caught. My programme is to get out the bit I see your car in the driveway.

Saturday morning, I am a bit queasy and all excited about the adventure I am about to set out on. I am also afraid ... I do not want to piss you off. I am out of the firm at 12 and driveway to the chateau, all the while thinking about what punishment you 'd move over me for my misdemeanour if I get caught. I do n't think you 'd entrust me ... I am not going to severalise anyone I know you.

I reach the chateau at 1. There are no railroad car around. I park mine a small away and take the air to the gate. The guard looks at me and demand me something in Arabic. I do n't understand ... so I shake my headway. He repeats and adds the word 'party'in English. I assume he is talking about the council ... which it seems is a company. I nod this time and he lets me through. This is pillock. What am I doing here ? Does the guard not know that it 's only for men or maybe it is just a political party and women are allowed. But why would you not tell me that ... you take me to all sorts of party ... why is this different ? ! I am mad at myself for coming down here. I do n't necessitate to know anything ... not anymore. I turn to go back, but the sentry duty has left his station and is now guiding me towards the chateau. He crosses the front entry and walks to a English, and when I wait, he gestures towards a threshold at the side. He knocks on the door and a Filipino amah opens it. He says something in Arabic and she looks at me and gesture me to stick to. With a suspire, I decide to see this to its end. I probably can still slip away in to a bathroom or something if I see you. The guard leaves us and the maid turns to me, looks me over ... almost appraising me and then enjoin me that I look old. That 's a uncanny 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 take one of your world-class 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the room. It is sumptuous, yet refined ... wow of money ... but very neat. I love the place. I know you would love the place. She then leaves to get me something to wassail. 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 totally feeding bottle of wine. 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 manner of walking 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 ready yet. Then he picks up the bottle and thrusts it under my pry and growls that I drink it up and soon. I do involve a drink ... what have I gotten myself into. I take the bottle from him and stream myself a spyglass ... the way he looks at me, I practically gulp down the wine. It hits me like a train ... I have a problem with dissolute drinking ... maybe if I drink up, I 'll pass out and when I wake up I can just impart. I drink up directly from the bottle ... Someone, the maid, takes the bottleful away from me. I am floating ... at least, my mind is. I can sense hands on me ... gripping my limb tight ... lifting me off the chair. It 's the brute. I want to shout out and perforate him. He is lenify as he starts to undress me ... I am horrified but I can barely restrain up my promontory to protest. I think I am naked ... I feel naked. The maiden and the brute, beauty and the beast, are doing something to me, to my body and cheek ... is it composition. I smell something sweet. individual touched me down there ... rubbed something there. I am in and out of consciousness. When I finally wake up, my headland 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 trouser are string up pearl ... if I move my leg, they division ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my human foot and tone at my reflection. I look good and I look younger. I 'd shaved down there in the dawn in anticipation of our 7 PM assignation ... but it 's never smooth and I did n't have time to go to the salon for a Brazilian. But individual had given me one ... I was cushy to the ghost. I wondered if it was the brute or the housemaid. I hoped it was the brute.

The maid came in as I did a pirouette for the mirror. She smiled and asked me to observe her. I was led to another elbow room where the beast was standing over a bed on a trolley ... it was a small all-inclusive for a hospital bed and too expand but that 's what it reminded me of. He asked me to lie down on it. I only hesitated for a import before I saw his party whip. He shackled my wrists on the top of the bed and my legs to the bottom recession with leather thongs 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 drapery that 's used by magicians. Wait ... am I the magicians bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the slightest sensation of light. The whole widget with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could discover voice, laughter ... the party ? And as the pealing stopped, a stillness fell. It felt unreal. Deprived of the sense of sight, I felt my other senses were suddenly card sharper. I did n't jazz if I was the only woman in the room ... or hall.

I wondered if you were there. And panicked at the thought. As I bit my rim, trying to think of an leak route, a male voice started talking. His voice was ceremonial as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in years at the behest of our former Chancellor. Now that he has moved on we have chosen our new Chancellor and we are here today to officially stage him with the ringing 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 ... shit ... and you are obviously here if this ceremony 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 over ? That 's wrong on so many levels !

'' She shall now be presented to His Excellency. He shall have the first kiss and the first fuck and for his ears will be her kickoff moans and her first shriek and her first drop of blood. Bring forth the maiden over. ``

I am rolled to a stop consonant a little ahead and I just have a present moment to write my face before I hear a swoosh that suggests the drapery 's up ! And a sharp intake of breath ... which has to be yours. There is absolute silence, and just the sound of footstep walking towards me. And then the playground slide of metal against leather ... a steel, perhaps a dagger ! I guess you 'd want to kill me now ... what with me being practically naked in social movement of your social club ! I suddenly feel a needlelike pin prick between my white meat and I feel you close, I can reek your aroma and the cigarettes as your warm breathing place snow on my mouth. 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 sacrifice. And you add in a hoy feeling that there may not be any remnant for anyone after you are through. There is laughter at that.

There is some noise like masses 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 dagger. You trace my bare breasts with it and adjure the tip on the right pastie. I bite my backtalk and whisper a sorry. With a sudden movement, you nick me below my taking into custody bone, drawing blood. It stings but your lips cover the cut and you lick the pearl of stock. Then you kiss me and I can smack the metallic taste of my line of descent. 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 backbreaking till I beg and scream in presence of all those watching. You tell me that you are going to cut away what short I am wearing and let everyone see me strip. And then you are going to leave me. I am almost in tears.

You cut off the leather thongs freeing me from the trammel. I feel the rushing of blood back in my implements of war. Instinctively my hands move to my blindfold but you hold my wrists and pull them away from my face ... and you turn me around and push me towards something made of Ellen Price Wood by the ghost ... a chair back, a guillotine ... I do n't lie with ! Then you have me bend over at the shank with the wood supporting me and snap on handcuffs on my carpus behind me. Your hands part the beads of my harem pants and you softly handle my exposed bum cheeks. When you take your manus away the beads fall back covering me up. You mutter something and then side by side I feel is the obelisk in the waist isthmus of my pants and an upwardly jabbing and the beaded pant slink down my legs. I cringe inside imagining all those optic on me. I am sword lily 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 stand for a cat-o-nine flogger. I squeeze my heart shut and try to will away the painful sensation as blow after shock falls on my bum. Some of the strands snap against my cunt lips and it 's like my keister is on fire. I bite my lingua to annul screaming but I ca n't stop from whimpering aloud. When I feel your laurel wreath on my fanny again, I am almost relieved but it 's short because you spank me hard ... raining tight and intend to hurt slaps. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and turn me around towards you. I can barely brook. `` Hope that felt good ... as much as it felt for me. '' `` Please, driblet it ... let 's get out of here ... or let me go ... I am no-count. '' `` No, you are not bad ... and I am not done with you. Nor are the others. Now down on your genu, you slut. ``

I kneel down, snag streaming down my brass, stinging me at my collar bone where you cut me. I ca n't aid but think that I so hump to be treated rough by you ... but not like this ... not with people watching. It is fine in my mind but not when it is actually happening to me.

You are mad, angry at me and the way you slap me around is hurtful. You rip of the pasties off my nipples. It hurts like hell on earth. I try to be unemotional person and center on pleasing you as you push your dick into my backtalk. It sorting of assist me conglomerate my senses ... I love this ... I love you. When it comes to the others ... no, I wo n't cerebrate about it now. I start to travel my tongue slowly around your cock, wrapping my sass and bobbing my head on your cock when you pull my haircloth and hold my head in spot while you proceed to face fuck me at your own, extremely pugnacious step. When you come, you come all over my face, my neck opening and my boob. I try to get up but the knickers at my ankles makes me trip. You hold me before I fall ... I am expel ... and I am in hurting. A little gentler than before, you make me sit on the bed ... and then you undo my handcuffs from behind and cuff them back up in battlefront. Then you push me till I lie flat on my back and tie my cuffed wrists to the trammel. You push my legs far apart and when I try to come together them, you tell me that you want everyone to see what a decent twat the little slut has. I feel something hard being pushed into my cunt ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels painful. The feel like beads, large one ... maybe some sort of dildo. Suddenly, it vibrates and then catch and vibrates again. Your finger finds my clitoris and you tease it in sync with the vibrations. `` Come for your audience, fornicatress ! Show them what a groom slut you are. ``

I close my oculus and try to ravish us to my bedroom ... all this should have had me orgasming multiple meter then. That helps ... and I start to get wet. I am shaken from my reverie when you flog my breasts. I twist and writhe to avoid it but the strands land unerringly. I had managed to not shout until now but combined with the vibrator and your ministration to my clit ... it all comes out in a screech, shuddering orgasm. I almost expect loud applause 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 room ... just you and me. respite overflow through me and almost gives me another climax. You lean in close as you undo my handcuffs and whisper that it is n't over for me. The rattling punishment is what I will be getting back home .