It is an exclusive order ... men only, if the name was n't clue enough ... The Gentlemen. 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 elusion of your clapper. I had n't sought any contingent ... it sounded boring, besides you never seem to look any gild group meeting or the nightclub did not meet often..

I had come to your berth unannounced ... your family line were in India and you would n't still let me get 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 ... amber 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 card that just has the gens of what I assume is a Villa or chateau. And the most matter to part is a brass instrument 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 club 's finally coming together. '' You continue belting up and just serve with an `` Ahaan ''. well, your response is as boring as I expect the gild activities are. I laugh and acknowledgment that probably the order 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 skid one hired hand inside my jeans and I soon forget all about the club.

spine home, all I can retrieve of is how you fucked me on your bed, in your home. That 's like up there in my list of escapade. I get occupy with workplace 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 give me the key for keepsakes if you are n't attending the 'council'. With nothing wagerer to do, I run a search for 'The Gentlemen'on Google. Nothing of any relevancy turns up ... besides the hunting condition is n't exactly scoop. Then, on a hunch, I search for the address/name on the bill of fare ... I was right ... a chateau. My sum wants a new adventure.

While talking to you on the phone, I casually ask your program for Saturday ( 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 Sat. 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 import I see your car in the driveway.

Sat cockcrow, I am a bit nervous and all excited about the adventure I am about to set out on. I am also afraid ... I do not need to piss you off. I am out of the house at 12 and movement to the chateau, all the patch thinking about what punishment you 'd give me for my misdemeanor if I get caught. I do n't think you 'd leave 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 little away and walk to the gate. The guard looks at me and asks me something in Arabic language. 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 party. I nod this time and he lets me through. This is stunned. What am I doing here ? Does the safeguard not eff that it 's only for men or maybe it is just a party and cleaning woman 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 need to love anything ... not anymore. I turn to go back, but the sentry go has left his station and is now guiding me towards the chateau. He crosses the front entrance and walks to a position, and when I wait, he gestures towards a doorway at the side. He knocks on the room access and a Filipino housemaid opens it. He says something in Arabic and she looks at me and gestures me to comply. With a suspire, I decide to see this to its end. I probably can still creep away in to a bathroom or something if I see you. The sentry duty 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 eldritch 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 bedroom ... weird place to take one of your number one 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the room. It is deluxe, yet graceful ... scream of money ... but very tasteful. I love the place. I know you would bang the office. She then leaves to get me something to drink. She comes back with a tray with a bottle of wine and a lechatelierite 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 nursing bottle of wine-coloured. She says it helps and adds that it seems it is my commencement time. Frankly, the conversation is scaring me. I am about to tell her that I do n't desire to advert the party after all when this immense guy walks in. He looks like he has n't ever listen a no from anyone. Ever. He looks at the amah, then at me ... then back at the housemaid and growls about me not being ready yet. Then he picks up the bottle and thrusts it under my horn in 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 decant myself a glass ... the way he looks at me, I practically gulp down the wine. It hits me like a string ... I have a job with fast crapulence ... maybe if I drink up, I 'll pass out and when I wake up I can just go away. I drink up directly from the bottleful ... mortal, the maid, takes the bottle away from me. I am floating ... at least, my head is. I can feel hands on me ... gripping my arms tight ... lifting me off the chairperson. It 's the wildcat. I want to cry and punch him. He is pacify as he starts to uncase me ... I am horrified but I can barely hold up my head to resist. I think I am naked ... I feel naked. The maidservant and the brute, peach and the beast, are doing something to me, to my eubstance and face ... is it make-up. I smell something sweet. person touched me down there ... rubbed something there. I am in and out of consciousness. When I finally wake up, my straits still feels spark, euphoric and I feel plunder. I look down at myself and I am wearing a belly dancer 's costume ... except I have pasties instead of a blouse. The harem pants are string up beadwork ... if I move my branch, they part ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my metrical unit and look at my observation. I look respectable and I look younger. I 'd shaved down there in the dawning in anticipation of our 7 PM tryst ... but it 's never smooth and I did n't make time to go to the salon for a Brazilian. But someone had given me one ... I was flabby to the touch. 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 come after her. I was led to another room where the brute was standing over a bed on a trolley car ... it was a little wide 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 minute before I saw his whiplash. He shackled my articulatio radiocarpea on the top of the bed and my legs to the bottom box 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 orbitual curtain that 's used by magicians. Wait ... am I the magicians bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the slight sensation of light. The whole contraption with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could hear voices, laughter ... the company ? And as the rolling stopped, a stillness fell. It felt insubstantial. Deprived of the sentience of lot, I felt my other common sense were suddenly card sharp. I did n't know if I was the sole charwoman in the elbow room ... or hall.

I wondered if you were there. And panicked at the intellection. As I bit my lips, trying to imagine of an escapism road, a manly voice started talking. His vox was ceremonial as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in old age 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 confront him with the ring and carapace. He has been sent the key which he graciously accepted. ``

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

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

'' She shall now be presented to His Excellency. He shall deliver the first buss and the low gear piece of tail and for his capitulum will be her first groan and her initiatory screams and her first drop of line. Bring forth the maiden. ``

I am rolled to a catch a short ahead and I just have a import to compose my boldness before I hear a whoosh that suggests the curtain 's up ! And a astute ingestion of hint ... which has to be yours. There is downright silence, and just the sound of footfall walking towards me. And then the playground slide of metal against leather ... a sword, perhaps a dagger ! I guess you 'd desire to toss off me now ... what with me being practically naked in straw man of your night club ! I suddenly feel a sharp pin pricking between my white meat and I feel you close, I can smell your perfume and the cigarettes as your warmly breathing spell reverse on my back talk. 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 light pure 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 skilful protective cover 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 push the tip on the veracious pastie. I bite my sass and whisper a sorry. With a sudden bowel movement, you nick me below my collar pearl, drawing blood. It stings but your mouth cover the cut and you lick the drop of pedigree. Then you kiss me and I can savour the metallic discernment of my blood. 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 jazz me gruelling till I beg and scream in nominal head of all those watching. You tell me that you are going to cut away what short 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 G-string freeing me from the hamper. I feel the rush of blood back in my arms. Instinctively my hands move to my blindfold but you hold my wrists and take out them away from my look ... and you turn me around and push me towards something made of Mrs. Henry Wood by the touch sensation ... a chair back, a closure by compartment ... I do n't recognize ! Then you have me bend over at the waistline with the wood supporting me and snap on handcuffs on my wrists behind me. Your helping hand division the beading of my harem trouser and you softly palm my let on bum impertinence. 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 bloomers and an upwards thrust and the beaded pants slink down my peg. I cringe inside imagining all those heart on me. I am beaming 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 one C bees on my bum which could only mean a cat-o-nine flogger. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to will away the pain sensation as nose candy after blow falls on my bum. Some of the strands snap against my bitch lips and it 's like my bottom is on fire. I bite my clapper to avert screaming but I ca n't lay off from whimpering aloud. When I feel your medallion on my bottom again, I am almost relieved but it 's abruptly because you spank me hard ... raining rigorous and have in mind to anguish smack. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and bend me around towards you. I can barely suffer. `` Hope that felt trade good ... as much as it felt for me. '' `` Please, dip it ... let 's get out of here ... or let me go ... I am sorry. '' `` No, you are not good-for-naught ... and I am not done with you. Nor are the others. Now down on your knee joint, you slut. ``

I kneel down, rent streaming down my face, stinging me at my collar bone where you cut me. I ca n't serve but think that I so love to be treated pugnacious by you ... but not like this ... not with people watching. It is delicately in my caput 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 mamilla. It hurts like hell. I try to be stoical and sharpen on pleasing you as you push your putz into my mouth. It sort of helps me pile up my senses ... I love this ... I love you. When it comes to the others ... no, I wo n't call up about it now. I start to move my tongue slowly around your hammer, wrapping my lips and bobbing my headway on your tool when you pull my hair and hold my head in place while you proceed to face fuck me at your own, extremely rough stride. When you come, you come all over my face, 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 piddling gentler than before, you make me sit on the bed ... and then you undo my handcuffs from behind and manacle them back up in front man. 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 close them, you tell me that you want everyone to see what a squeamish pussy the little adulteress has. I feel something hard being pushed into my snatch ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels painful. The feel like beads, great 1 ... 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. `` come for your hearing, trollop ! present them what a trail hussy you are. ``

I close my center and try to enthral us to my sleeping room ... all this should induce had me orgasming multiple fourth dimension then. That helps ... and I start to get wet. I am shaken from my reverie when you flog my tit. 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 ministrations to my clit ... it all comes out in a screaming, shuddering orgasm. I almost expect flashy clapping but there 's only secretiveness. I am still shuddering from that explosive orgasm when you untie my blindfold and tilt the bed straight. There was no one in the elbow room ... just you and me. Relief floods through me and almost gives me another orgasm. You lean in close as you undo my cuff and whisper that it is n't over for me. The real punishment is what I will be getting back home .