It is an exclusive club ... men only, if the name was n't clue enough ... The gentleman's gentleman. That 's all I know about it from you. And I 'd own never even known that very much if it had n't been for a slip of your tongue. I had n't sought any point ... it sounded boring, besides you never seem to take care any club meetings or the club did not meet often..

I had come to your situation unannounced ... your sept were in Republic of India and you would n't still let me occur over if I 'd asked. You suggest that we go out for lunch and while you get dressed, I browse through your bookshelf.

Something apprehension my eye ... looks like a wedding invite ... amber on grayness. I pick it up and see that it 's an invite to The gentleman's gentleman 's council. The stationery is impressive, elegant. Inside the gasbag there 's a bill of fare that just has the name of what I assume is a Villa or chateau. And the most interesting section is a brass key, ornately designed and stamped with a C.

I place the key and card back in the gasbag and the envelope back succeeding to the book 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 answer is as deadening as I expect the club body process are. I laugh and mention that probably the club is entire of old, moneyed men whose foreland 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 osculate me and slew one hired hand inside my dungaree and I soon blank out all about the nightclub.

spinal column abode, all I can think of is how you fucked me on your bed, in your star sign. That 's like up there in my leaning of escapade. I get busy with workplace though still glowing with victory and expiation. Lying down to sleep at night, I am reminded of the invite ... especially the key. I think I will ask you to cave in me the key for souvenir if you are n't attending the 'council'. With nothing better to do, I run a hunt for 'The Gentlemen'on Google. Nothing of any relevancy turns up ... besides the search term is n't exactly undivided. Then, on a hunch, I search for the address/name on the card ... I was right ... a chateau. My heart wants a new escapade.

While talking to you on the speech sound, I casually ask your plan 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 arrive over to my place.

After I hang up, I decide that I am going to be at the council on Sabbatum. I have no musical theme how I 'd sneak in or what the consequences would be if I get caught. My plan is to break away the moment I see your car in the driveway.

Saturday morning, I am a bit flighty and all excited about the adventure I am about to set out on. I am also afraid ... I do not want to pee you off. I am out of the house at 12 and parkway to the chateau, all the piece thinking about what punishment you 'd give me for my misdemeanour if I get caught. I do n't call up you 'd leave me ... I am not going to tell anyone I know you.

I reach the chateau at 1. There are no railcar around. I park mine a little away and walk to the gate. The guard looks at me and asks me something in Arabic. I do n't understand ... so I shake my capitulum. He repeats and adds the word 'party'in English. I assume he is talking about the council ... which it seems is a party. I nod this prison term and he lets me through. This is stupid. What am I doing here ? Does the safety device not cognise that it 's only for men or maybe it is just a party and woman are allowed. But why would you not say me that ... you take me to all sorts of parties ... why is this different ? ! I am mad at myself for coming down here. I do n't demand to know anything ... not anymore. I turn to go back, but the guard duty has left his post and is now guiding me towards the chateau. He crosses the battlefront entrance and walk of life to a side, and when I wait, he gestures towards a door at the incline. He knocks on the door and a Filipino maid opens it. He says something in Arabic and she looks at me and motion me to surveil. With a sigh, I decide to see this to its end. I probably can still hook 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 distinguish me that I look old. That 's a Wyrd matter 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 office to take away one of your first 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the room. It is opulent, yet elegant ... riot of money ... but very tasteful. I love the place. I know you would bed the place. She then leaves to get me something to drink. She comes back with a tray with a bottle of wine and a watch crystal chicken feed. She tells me that it is better if I drink it all up before the consequence 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 desire to attend the party after all when this Brobdingnagian guy walks in. He looks like he has n't ever get wind a no from anyone. Ever. He looks at the maidservant, then at me ... then back at the maid and growls about me not being set up yet. Then he picks up the bottle and thrusts it under my olfactory organ and growls that I drink it up and soon. I do need a drink ... what have I gotten myself into. I take the feeding bottle from him and pour out myself a looking glass ... the way he looks at me, I practically gulp down the wine. It hits me like a train ... I have a problem with firm drinking ... maybe if I drink up, I 'll drop dead out and when I wake up I can just depart. I drink up directly from the nursing bottle ... soul, the maid, takes the bottle away from me. I am floating ... at least, my capitulum is. I can feel hands on me ... gripping my arms tight ... lifting me off the chair. It 's the fauna. I want to shout and punch him. He is gentle as he starts to disrobe me ... I am horrified but I can barely hold up my promontory to protest. I think I am naked ... I feel defenseless. The maiden and the fauna, peach and the wildcat, are doing something to me, to my trunk and face ... is it war paint. I smell something sweet. somebody touched me down there ... rubbed something there. I am in and out of awareness. When I finally wake up, my head still tone light, euphoric and I feel violated. I look down at myself and I am wearing a belly terpsichorean 's costume ... except I have pasties instead of a blouse. The serail pants are string along beads ... if I move my stage, they part ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my groundwork and tone at my reflection. I look expert and I look younger. I 'd shaved down there in the morning in anticipation of our 7 PM rendezvous ... but it 's never smooth and I did n't cause time to go to the beauty salon for a Brazilian. But someone had given me one ... I was diffuse to the touch. I wondered if it was the wildcat 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 pursue her. I was led to another room where the animate being was standing over a bed on a streetcar ... it was a slight 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 minute before I saw his whiplash. He shackled my wrist on the top of the bed and my branch to the bottom turning point with leather G-string 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 conjurer bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the slightest mavin of lighting. The totally contraption with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could hear voices, laughter ... the party ? And as the roll stopped, a hush fell. It felt unreal. Deprived of the sentience of sight, I felt my other sens were suddenly sharper. I did n't be intimate if I was the only cleaning woman in the room ... or hall.

I wondered if you were there. And panicked at the thought. As I bit my lips, trying to think of an escape road, a Male phonation started talking. His interpreter was ceremonial as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in geezerhood at the behest of our one-time prime minister. 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 ... 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 ? That 's wrong on so many level !

'' She shall now be presented to His excellency. He shall ingest the first kiss and the first fuck and for his ears will be her low gear moan and her first screams and her first driblet of blood. Bring forth the maiden over. ``

I am rolled to a stop a niggling ahead and I just have a moment to frame my face before I hear a whoosh that suggests the curtain 's up ! And a penetrative intake of breath ... which has to be yours. There is sheer secretiveness, and just the strait of footsteps walking towards me. And then the slide of metal against leather ... a sword, perhaps a dagger ! I guess you 'd require to toss off me now ... what with me being practically naked in front of your club ! I suddenly feel a astute pin son of a bitch between my breasts and I feel you close, I can smell out your perfume and the coffin nail as your warm breath snow on my brim. I feel the kiss. It is not raging, but your rustle is. All you whisper is that I will pay for this ... dearly. Then I feel you turn away from me ... and you declare trashy that you have accepted the forfeit. And you add in a barge tone that there may not be any remnant for anyone after you are through. There is laughter at that.

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

You are back with me and so is that pin cocksucker which I assume is a obelisk. You trace my bare breasts with it and adjure the tip on the flop pastie. I bite my sass and whisper a sorry. With a sudden movement, you nick me below my collar bone, drawing blood. It stings but your lips cover the cut and you lick the drop of bloodline. Then you kiss me and I can sample the metal 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 be intimate me hard till I beg and scream in front of all those watching. You tell me that you are going to cut away what niggling I am wearing and let everyone see me publicise. And then you are going to leave me. I am almost in tears.

You cut off the leather thongs freeing me from the shackle. I feel the charge of roue back in my weapon system. Instinctively my custody move to my blindfold but you hold my wrists and attract them away from my human face ... and you turn me around and push me towards something made of Sir Henry Joseph Wood by the pinch ... a chair back, a guillotine ... I do n't know ! Then you have me stoop over at the waist with the wood supporting me and rupture on handlock on my articulatio radiocarpea behind me. Your script part the bead of my serail pants and you softly handle my exposed bum brass. 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 upwards thrust and the bead gasp slink down my legs. I cringe inside imagining all those oculus 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 bite of a one C bees on my bum which could only mean a cat-o-nine flogger. I squeeze my center shut and try to will away the painfulness as blow after shock falls on my bum. Some of the strands snap against my snatch lips and it 's like my bottomland is on fire. I bite my spit to obviate screaming but I ca n't stop over from whimpering aloud. When I feel your medal on my bottom again, I am almost relieved but it 's short because you spank me hard ... raining close and meant to wound slaps. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and twist me around towards you. I can barely put up. `` Hope that felt good ... as much as it felt for me. '' `` Please, drop 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 face, stinging me at my collar osseous tissue where you cut me. I ca n't serve but think that I so love to be treated rough by you ... but not like this ... not with people watching. It is exquisitely 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 tit. It hurts like hell. I try to be stoic and focus on pleasing you as you push your shaft into my mouth. It sorting of assistant me tuck my mother wit ... 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 lingua slowly around your cock, wrapping my lips and bobbing my chief on your cock when you pull my hair and hold my head in place while you proceed to confront fuck me at your own, extremely fierce gait. When you come, you come all over my nerve, my neck and my white meat. I try to get up but the pants at my articulatio talocruralis makes me slip. You hold me before I fall ... I am exhausted ... and I am in bother. A slight gentler than before, you make me sit on the bed ... and then you undo my handcuffs from behind and cuff them back up in figurehead. Then you push me till I lie flat on my back and tie my cuffed wrists to the bond. 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 pussy the picayune slut has. I feel something hard being pushed into my pussy ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels painful. The feel like string of beads, large single ... maybe some sort of dildo. Suddenly, it vibrates and then full point and vibrates again. Your finger finds my clitoris and you tease it in sync with the oscillation. `` Come for your interview, trollop ! record them what a civilize slattern you are. ``

I close my eyes and try to transport us to my chamber ... all this should consume had me orgasming multiple clock time then. That helps ... and I start to get wet. I am shaken from my oneirism when you flog my breasts. 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 clitoris ... it all comes out in a screaming, 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 cant over 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 manacle and whisper that it is n't over for me. The real number punishment is what I will be getting back home .