It is an exclusive club ... men only, if the name was n't clue enough ... The valet de chambre. That 's all I know about it from you. And I 'd have never even known that much if it had n't been for a slip of your tongue. I had n't sought any details ... it sounded boring, besides you never seem to look any club encounter or the club did not converge often..

I had come to your place unannounced ... your folk were in Republic of 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 wedding invite ... gold on Zane Grey. I pick it up and see that it 's an invite to The Gentlemen 's council. The stationery is telling, elegant. Inside the envelope there 's a notice that just has the name of what I assume is a Villa or chateau. And the most concern contribution is a organization key, ornately designed and stamped with a C.

I place the key and card back in the gasbag and the gasbag back next to the books on the shelf ... and I turn around and say `` So, your club 's finally encounter. '' You continue belting up and just suffice with an `` Ahaan ''. wellspring, your response is as ho-hum as I expect the cabaret activeness are. I laugh and honorable mention that probably the ball club is fully of old, moneyed men whose pass float up in the swarm ... 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 hired man inside my jeans and I soon forget all about the guild.

Back home, all I can think of is how you fucked me on your bed, in your house. That 's like up there in my list of risky venture. I get busy with work though still glowing with triumph and satisfaction. Lying down to kip at night, I am reminded of the invite ... especially the key. I think I will ask you to dedicate me the key for keepsakes if you are n't attending the 'council'. With nothing wagerer to do, I run a hunting for 'The gentleman'on Google. zip 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 scorecard ... I was right ... a chateau. My nitty-gritty wants a new adventure.

While talking to you on the earpiece, I casually ask your architectural plan for Sabbatum ( the day of the council ). You tell me that you have to advert the council at 2 ... you 'd be gratuitous by 7 and you 'd fall over to my place.

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

Saturday morning, I am a bit anxious and all excited about the escapade I am about to set out on. I am also afraid ... I do not want to puddle you off. I am out of the house at 12 and cause to the chateau, all the while thinking about what punishment you 'd give me for my misdemeanour if I get caught. I do n't mean you 'd pass on me ... I am not going to tell anyone I know you.

I reach the chateau at 1. There are no railroad car around. I park mine a trivial away and take the air to the gate. The precaution looks at me and demand me something in Arabic. I do n't understand ... so I shake my question. 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 fourth dimension and he lets me through. This is stupid. What am I doing here ? Does the guard not do it that it 's only for men or maybe it is just a party and women are allowed. But why would you not secern me that ... you take me to all sort of party ... why is this unlike ? ! I am mad at myself for coming down here. I do n't need to have intercourse 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 presence entrance and walks to a slope, 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 language 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 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 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 blank space to take one of your number one 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the way. It is opulent, yet refined ... screams of money ... but very tasteful. I love the place. I know you would sleep together the place. She then leaves to get me something to drink. She comes back with a tray with a bottle of wine-colored and a quartz 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 time. Frankly, the conversation is scaring me. I am about to tell her that I do n't want to see the company after all when this huge guy walks in. He looks like he has n't ever pick up a no from anyone. Ever. He looks at the maiden, then at me ... then back at the maid and growls about me not being cook yet. Then he picks up the bottle and thrusts it under my nose and growls that I drink it up and soon. I do demand a drink ... what have I gotten myself into. I take the bottle from him and decant myself a trash ... the way he looks at me, I practically gulp down the wine. It hits me like a power train ... I have a problem with truehearted drinking ... maybe if I drink up, I 'll cash in one's chips out and when I wake up I can just pull up stakes. I drink up directly from the bottle ... individual, the maidservant, takes the bottle away from me. I am floating ... at least, my capitulum is. I can feel custody on me ... gripping my weapons system tight ... lifting me off the chair. It 's the brute. I want to cry and punch him. He is easy as he starts to uncase me ... I am horrified but I can barely hold up my head to dissent. I think I am nude ... I feel naked. The maid and the beast, beauty and the animal, are doing something to me, to my soundbox and face ... is it make-up. I smell something confection. Someone touched me down there ... rubbed something there. I am in and out of cognizance. When I finally wake up, my head still feels luminosity, 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 serail gasp are strung beads ... if I move my peg, they part ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my feet and expression at my reflection. I look soundly and I look untried. I 'd shaved down there in the cockcrow in expectancy of our 7 PM tryst ... but it 's never smooth and I did n't own time to go to the beauty salon for a Brazilian. But someone had given me one ... I was easy to the touch. I wondered if it was the brute or the amah. I hoped it was the brute.

The housemaid came in as I did a pirouette for the mirror. She smiled and asked me to follow her. I was led to another room where the brute was standing over a bed on a tramcar ... it was a piddling all-embracing for a hospital bed and too expatiate 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 whip. He shackled my wrist joint on the top of the bed and my branch to the backside corners with leather lash attached to metal annulus. 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 magicians bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the slightest sensation of light. The whole convenience with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could hear part, laughter ... the party ? And as the rolling stopped, a still fell. It felt unreal. Deprived of the mother wit of sight, I felt my other senses were suddenly acute. I did n't know if I was the only char in the room ... or hall.

I wondered if you were there. And panicked at the thought. As I bit my lips, trying to cogitate of an escape cock route, a male voice started talking. His vocalism was ceremonial as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in long time at the behest of our onetime prime minister. Now that he has moved on we have chosen our new Chancellor 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 honorable 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 ceremonial is for you ! But why am I here ?

The vocalisation continues ... `` ... as is the custom, we have the sacrificial maiden ready ... '' Wait ... what ? Sacrificial maiden ? That 's untimely on so many spirit level !

'' She shall now be presented to His Excellency. He shall suffer the first kiss and the beginning shtup and for his ears will be her first-class honours degree moans and her first screams and her 1st drop of blood. Bring forth the maid. ``

I am rolled to a catch a niggling ahead and I just have a moment to compose my face before I hear a whoosh that suggests the drape 's up ! And a shrewd intake of breath ... which has to be yours. There is inviolable quiet, and just the sound of footstep walking towards me. And then the slide of metallic element against leather ... a sword, perhaps a dagger ! I guess you 'd want to kill me now ... what with me being practically naked in strawman of your club ! I suddenly feel a sharp pin prick between my white meat and I feel you close, I can smell your perfume and the cigarettes as your warm 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 sacrifice. And you add in a lighter tone that there may not be any remnant 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 estimable 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 exhort the tip on the the right way pastie. I bite my mouth and whisper a sorry. With a sudden movement, you nick me below my collar pearl, drawing parentage. It stings but your back talk cover the cut and you lick the drop of blood. Then you kiss me and I can try the metallic taste of my blood. I ask you if everyone else has left the room. I can almost palpate you smile dangerously when you reply that you are going to fuck me concentrated till I beg and scream in front of all those watching. You tell me that you are going to cut away what picayune I am wearing and let everyone see me bare. And then you are going to go away me. I am almost in tears.

You cut off the leather lash 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 articulatio radiocarpea and draw out them away from my facial expression ... and you turn me around and crowd me towards something made of woodwind by the tactual sensation ... a electric 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 snatch on cuff on my radiocarpal joint behind me. Your hands percentage the beading of my seraglio bloomers and you softly palm my break bum cheeks. When you take your hand away the pearl 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 upwards thrust and the beaded pants slink down my legs. I cringe inside imagining all those middle 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 bunco game of a hundred bees on my bum which could only mean a cat-o-nine flogger. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to will away the botheration as blow after blow falls on my bum. Some of the strands snap against my cunt lips and it 's like my seat is on fire. I bite my tongue to avoid screaming but I ca n't stop from whimpering aloud. When I feel your palm on my keister again, I am almost relieved but it 's short because you spank me hard ... raining tight and meant to suffer slaps. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and turn me around towards you. I can barely stand. `` Hope that felt good ... as much as it felt for me. '' `` Please, drop-off it ... let 's get out of here ... or let me go ... I am regretful. '' `` No, you are not sorry ... and I am not done with you. Nor are the others. Now down on your human knee, you slut. ``

I kneel down, tears streaming down my aspect, stinging me at my collar bone where you cut me. I ca n't avail but think that I so bonk to be treated crude by you ... but not like this ... not with multitude watching. It is fine in my head but not when it is actually happening to me.

You are mad, angry at me and the way you slap me around is injurious. You rip of the pasties off my nipple. It hurts like hell. I try to be stoic and focus on pleasing you as you push your dick into my mouth. It sort of helps me foregather 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 impress my tongue slowly around your peter, wrapping my rim and bobbing my chief on your prick when you pull my hair and defy my heading in place while you proceed to face jazz me at your own, extremely jolting pace. When you come, you come all over my nerve, my neck and my breasts. I try to get up but the pants at my ankle joint makes me trip. You hold me before I fall ... I am exhausted ... and I am in pain. A little 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 end. Then you push me till I lie monotone on my spinal column and tie my cuffed wrists to the shackle. You push my legs far apart and when I try to fill up them, you tell me that you want everyone to see what a decent pussy the footling slut has. I feel something hard being pushed into my bitch ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels awful. The look like string of beads, magnanimous single ... maybe some sort of dildo. Suddenly, it vibrates and then full stop and vibrates again. Your finger finds my button and you tease it in sync with the quiver. `` semen for your audience, slut ! evince them what a trained hussy you are. ``

I close my eyes and try to ravish us to my chamber ... all this should have had me orgasming multiple prison term then. That helps ... and I start to get wet. I am shaken from my reverie when you flog my knocker. I twist and writhe to avoid it but the strands land unerringly. I had managed to not scream until now but combined with the vibrator and your succour to my clit ... it all comes out in a screaming, shuddering sexual climax. I almost expect garish clapping but there 's only muteness. I am still shuddering from that volatile orgasm when you untie my blindfold and lean the bed straight. There was no one in the room ... just you and me. backup inundation through me and almost gives me another coming. You lean in close as you undo my handcuffs and whisper that it is n't over for me. The veridical penalisation is what I will be getting back base .