It is an scoop club ... men only, if the name was n't clew enough ... The gentleman. That 's all I know about it from you. And I 'd have never even known that practically 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 attend any club meetings or the order did not meet often..

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

Something snatch 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 impressive, graceful. Inside the gasbag there 's a bill that just has the name of what I assume is a Villa or chateau. And the most concern part is a brass 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 Holy Scripture on the shelf ... and I turn around and say `` So, your social club 's finally group meeting. '' You continue belting up and just suffice with an `` Ahaan ''. fountainhead, your response is as boring as I expect the clubhouse natural action are. I laugh and reference that probably the guild is full of old, moneyed men whose heads 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 helping hand inside my jeans and I soon leave all about the club.

rear home, all I can reckon of is how you fucked me on your bed, in your house. That 's like up there in my listing of adventures. 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 devote me the key for relic if you are n't attending the 'council'. With nothing wagerer to do, I run a hunt for 'The Gentlemen'on Google. zero of any relevance turns up ... besides the research term is n't exactly exclusive. Then, on a hunch, I search for the address/name on the card ... I was right ... a chateau. My heart wants a new adventure.

While talking to you on the sound, 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 innocent 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 swipe in or what the consequences would be if I get caught. My program is to escape the minute I see your car in the driveway.

Sat sunup, I am a bit spooky 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 sign of the zodiac at 12 and driveway 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 reckon you 'd forget me ... I am not going to distinguish anyone I know you.

I reach the chateau at 1. There are no cable car around. I park mine a piddling away and take the air to the gate. The safety device 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 watchword 'party'in English. I assume he is talking about the council ... which it seems is a party. I nod this clock time and he lets me through. This is stupid person. 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 fair sex are allowed. But why would you not tell apart me that ... you take me to all sorting of parties ... why is this different ? ! I am mad at myself for coming down here. I do n't need to know anything ... not anymore. I turn to go back, but the guard has left his station and is now guiding me towards the chateau. He crosses the straw man entryway and pass to a incline, and when I wait, he gestures towards a door at the face. He knocks on the door and a Filipino maiden opens it. He says something in Arabic language and she looks at me and gestures me to follow. With a sigh, I decide to see this to its end. I probably can still sneak away in to a lav or something if I see you. The safeguard leaves us and the maiden turns to me, looks me over ... almost appraising me and then evidence 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 place to get one of your first base 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the room. It is gilded, yet elegant ... screams of money ... but very tasteful. I love the place. I know you would bed the seat. She then leaves to get me something to fuddle. She comes back with a tray with a bottle of wine and a quartz glass. She tells me that it is better if I drink it all up before the upshot starts. I look up at her ... confused ... why drink the hale bottleful of wine-coloured. She says it helps and adds that it seems it is my inaugural time. 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 walks in. He looks like he has n't ever try a no from anyone. Ever. He looks at the maidservant, then at me ... then back at the amah and growls about me not being ready yet. Then he picks up the bottle and thrusts it under my nose and growls that I drink it up and soon. I do take a drink ... what have I gotten myself into. I take the bottle from him and pour myself a glass ... the way he looks at me, I practically gulp down the wine-coloured. It hits me like a train ... I have a problem with quick imbibition ... maybe if I drink up, I 'll pass out and when I wake up I can just get out. I drink up directly from the bottle ... person, the maid, takes the bottle away from me. I am floating ... at least, my head is. I can feel manpower on me ... gripping my arms tight ... lifting me off the death chair. It 's the brute. I want to shout and plug him. He is gentle as he starts to undress me ... I am dismay but I can barely hold up my head to dissent. I think I am naked ... I feel naked. The maid and the animal, beauty and the fauna, are doing something to me, to my body and font ... is it make-up. I smell something sugariness. Someone touched me down there ... rubbed something there. I am in and out of consciousness. When I finally wake up, my school principal still feels light, euphoric and I feel profaned. I look down at myself and I am wearing a belly dancer 's costume ... except I have pasties instead of a blouse. The hareem pants are string pearl ... if I move my legs, they region ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my feet and look at my reflection. I look upright and I look untried. I 'd shaved down there in the morning in prediction of our 7 PM assignation ... but it 's never smooth and I did n't have time to go to the beauty salon for a Brazilian. But somebody had given me one ... I was indulgent to the touch. I wondered if it was the beast or the maid. I hoped it was the brute.

The maiden came in as I did a pirouette for the mirror. She smiled and asked me to stick with her. I was led to another room where the brute was standing over a bed on a trolley ... it was a little blanket 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 consequence before I saw his whip. He shackled my wrist on the top of the bed and my legs to the prat corners with leather thongs 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 pall that 's used by magicians. Wait ... am I the magicians bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the slightest aesthesis of light. The whole contraption with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could discover articulation, laughter ... the political party ? And as the peal stopped, a hush fell. It felt artificial. Deprived of the signified of mountain, I felt my former senses were suddenly sharper. I did n't have a go at it 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 lips, trying to think of an escape route, a male voice started talking. His voice was ceremonial occasion as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in age at the behest of our former 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 quotation 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 articulation continues ... `` ... as is the custom, we have the sacrificial maiden ready ... '' Wait ... what ? Sacrificial maiden over ? That 's untimely on so many stratum !

'' She shall now be presented to His Excellency. He shall experience the first osculation and the number one fuck and for his ears will be her world-class groan and her first-class honours degree howler and her 1st drop of blood. Bring forth the maid. ``

I am rolled to a arrest a piddling ahead and I just have a moment to compose my font before I hear a whoosh that suggests the curtain 's up ! And a sharp-worded inspiration of breath ... which has to be yours. There is inviolable secretiveness, and just the sound of footstep walking towards me. And then the slideway of metal against leather ... a sword, perhaps a dagger ! I guess you 'd want to pop me now ... what with me being practically naked in battlefront of your club ! I suddenly feel a knifelike pin prick between my breasts and I feel you close, I can smell your essence and the coffin nail as your warm breathing place puff on my mouth. I feel the candy 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 haphazardness 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 obelisk. You trace my bare breasts with it and press the tip on the right pastie. I bite my lips and whisper a sorry. With a sudden movement, you nick me below my collar pearl, drawing blood. It stings but your brim cover the cut and you lick the free fall of blood. Then you kiss me and I can taste the metallic taste of my profligate. I ask you if everyone else has left the elbow room. I can almost feel you smile dangerously when you reply that you are going to fuck me hard till I beg and scream in front of all those watching. You tell me that you are going to cut away what little I am wearing and let everyone see me publicize. 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 flush of blood back in my arms. Instinctively my hired hand move to my blindfold but you hold my wrists and pull up them away from my brass ... and you turn me around and labor me towards something made of wood by the soupcon ... a chair back, a guillotine ... I do n't know ! Then you have me bend over at the shank with the wood supporting me and tear on handcuffs on my wrists behind me. Your script part the pearl of my seraglio drawers and you softly handle my exhibit bum impertinence. When you take your mitt away the beads fall back covering me up. You mutter something and then succeeding I feel is the sticker in the shank striation of my pants and an upward thrust and the beaded pants slink down my legs. I cringe inside imagining all those eyes 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 stings of a 100 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 as blow after shock falls on my bum. Some of the strands snap against my cunt lips and it 's like my bottom is on blast. I bite my clapper to nullify screaming but I ca n't stop from whimpering aloud. When I feel your palm on my arse again, I am almost relieved but it 's short circuit because you spank me laborious ... raining tight and meant to suffer slaps. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and twist me around towards you. I can barely support. `` 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 grim. '' `` No, you are not blue ... and I am not done with you. Nor are the others. Now down on your genu, you slut. ``

I kneel down, tears streaming down my brass, stinging me at my collar os where you cut me. I ca n't help but remember that I so sleep with to be treated rough by you ... but not like this ... not with multitude watching. It is alright 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 hurtful. You rip of the pasties off my nipples. It hurts like hellhole. I try to be stoic and focalize on pleasing you as you push your cock into my mouth. It sort of aid me gather 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 glossa slowly around your cock, wrapping my lip and bobbing my head on your cock when you pull my hair and hold my foreland in place while you proceed to face eff me at your own, extremely rough gait. When you come, you come all over my look, my neck and my breasts. I try to get up but the knickers 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 handcuff from behind and cuff them back up in front. Then you push me till I lie flat on my book binding and tie my cuffed wrists to the shackle. 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 slit the lilliputian slovenly woman has. I feel something tough being pushed into my puss ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels irritating. The smell like beads, with child ones ... maybe some variety of dildo. Suddenly, it vibrates and then stops and vibrates again. Your finger finds my clit and you tease it in sync with the palpitation. `` Come for your hearing, slut ! indicate them what a direct slut you are. ``

I close my eyes and try to enthrall us to my bedroom ... all this should sustain had me orgasming multiple meter 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 debar it but the filament land unerringly. I had managed to not hollo until now but combined with the vibrator and your ministration to my clitoris ... it all comes out in a screaming, shuddering orgasm. I almost expect cheap clapping but there 's only silence. I am still shuddering from that explosive coming when you untie my blindfold and tilt the bed straight. There was no one in the room ... just you and me. Relief floodlight through me and almost gives me another orgasm. You lean in close as you undo my handlock and whisper that it is n't over for me. The real punishment is what I will be getting back home .