It is an exclusive club ... men only, if the epithet was n't clue enough ... The Gentlemen. That 's all I know about it from you. And I 'd bear never even known that much if it had n't been for a slip of your tongue. I had n't sought any inside information ... it sounded tire, besides you never seem to attend any bludgeon group meeting or the nightclub did not converge often..

I had come to your lieu unannounced ... your phratry were in Republic of 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 taking into custody my eye ... looks like a nuptials invite ... gold on gray. I pick it up and see that it 's an invite to The Gentlemen 's council. The stationery is impressive, graceful. Inside the envelope there 's a circuit card that just has the figure of what I assume is a Villa or chateau. And the most worry component is a brass key, ornately designed and stamped with a C.

I place the key and notice back in the envelope and the envelope back future to the Good Book on the shelf ... and I turn around and say `` So, your club 's finally coming together. '' You continue belting up and just answer with an `` Ahaan ''. Well, your reaction is as boring as I expect the golf-club bodily process are. I laugh and cite that probably the club is full phase of the moon of old, moneyed men whose heads float up in the clouds ... looks like that from the invite.

You reply with `` yes ... as old as I am. '' Then you grab me and buss me and slide one bridge player inside my jean and I soon draw a blank all about the club.

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 dangerous undertaking. I get fussy with work though still glowing with triumph and satisfaction. Lying down to sleep at Nox, I am reminded of the invite ... especially the key. I think I will ask you to give me the key for souvenir if you are n't attending the 'council'. With nothing punter to do, I run a hunting for 'The Gentlemen'on Google. zilch of any relevance turns up ... besides the search full 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 middle wants a new adventure.

While talking to you on the headphone, I casually ask your architectural plan for Saturday ( the day of the council ). You tell me that you have to see the council at 2 ... you 'd be liberate 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 idea how I 'd lift in or what the issue would be if I get caught. My plan is to escape the here and now I see your car in the drive.

Saturday morning, I am a bit nervous and all excited about the risky venture I am about to set out on. I am also afraid ... I do not want to piss you off. I am out of the house at 12 and thrust to the chateau, all the while thinking about what penalisation you 'd give way me for my misdemeanour 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 machine around. I park mine a little away and take the air to the gate. The guard looks at me and asks me something in Arabic. I do n't understand ... so I shake my fountainhead. He repeats and adds the Good Book 'party'in English. I assume he is talking about the council ... which it seems is a company. I nod this prison term and he lets me through. This is poor fish. What am I doing here ? Does the guard not know that it 's only for men or maybe it is just a party and cleaning woman are allowed. But why would you not severalize me that ... you take me to all variety of party ... why is this dissimilar ? ! 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 forepart entrance and walks to a side, and when I wait, he gestures towards a door at the position. He knocks on the room access and a Filipino maid opens it. He says something in Arabic and she looks at me and gesture 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 state me that I look old. That 's a weird affair 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 first 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the way. It is luxurious, yet elegant ... screams of money ... but very tasteful. I love the berth. I know you would love the place. She then leaves to get me something to drink. She comes back with a tray with a bottle of wine and a crystallization glass. She tells me that it is better if I drink it all up before the outcome 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 clip. Frankly, the conversation is scaring me. I am about to say her that I do n't want to attend the company after all when this huge guy manner of walking in. He looks like he has n't ever listen a no from anyone. Ever. He looks at the maid, then at me ... then back at the maidservant 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 demand 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-colored. It hits me like a train ... I have a problem with degraded drinking ... maybe if I drink up, I 'll pass out and when I wake up I can just go forth. I drink up directly from the nursing bottle ... Someone, the maid, takes the nursing bottle away from me. I am floating ... at least, my read/write head is. I can feel handwriting on me ... gripping my munition tight ... lifting me off the chair. It 's the savage. I want to clapperclaw and punch him. He is gentle as he starts to undress me ... I am horrify but I can barely hold up my head to protest. I think I am naked ... I feel naked. The housemaid and the animate being, dish and the beast, are doing something to me, to my consistence and case ... is it make-up. I smell something confection. somebody touched me down there ... rubbed something there. I am in and out of knowingness. When I finally wake up, my head 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 bloomers are strung beadwork ... if I move my legs, they component ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my foundation and look at my reflection. I look good 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 have time to go to the salon for a Brazilian. But someone had given me one ... I was soft to the speck. I wondered if it was the savage or the maidservant. I hoped it was the brute.

The housemaid came in as I did a pirouette for the mirror. She smiled and asked me to fall out her. I was led to another room where the creature was standing over a bed on a trolley ... it was a little widely 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 second before I saw his whip. He shackled my radiocarpal joint on the top of the bed and my legs to the posterior corners with leather thong 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 curtain that 's used by magicians. Wait ... am I the conjurer bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the slender sensation of light. The all appliance with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could get word vocalization, laugh ... the party ? And as the rolling stopped, a still fell. It felt unreal. Deprived of the common sense of raft, I felt my other senses were suddenly sharper. I did n't jazz if I was the only woman in the way ... or hall.

I wondered if you were there. And panicked at the thinking. As I bit my mouth, trying to think of an escape route, a virile voice started talking. His vox was ceremonial as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in years at the behest of our other Chancellor. Now that he has moved on we have chosen our new premier and we are here today to officially present him with the tintinnabulation and cuticle. 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 ... horseshit ... and you are obviously here if this ceremony is for you ! But why am I here ?

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

'' She shall now be presented to His excellency. He shall have the number 1 candy kiss and the first gear nookie and for his ears will be her first moans and her starting time screams and her starting time drop of lineage. Bring forth the maiden. ``

I am rolled to a stop a little ahead and I just have a moment to compose my face before I hear a whoosh that suggests the curtain 's up ! And a precipitous intake of breath ... which has to be yours. There is absolute silence, and just the sound of stride walking towards me. And then the sloping trough of metallic element against leather ... a sword, perhaps a dagger ! I guess you 'd desire to kill me now ... what with me being practically naked in front line of your club ! I suddenly feel a discriminating pin scratch between my breasts and I feel you close, I can sense your aroma and the fag as your warm breathing space blows 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 lighter flavour that there may not be any leftovers for anyone after you are through. There is laughter at that.

There is some randomness like people milling about ... is everyone leaving ? I hope so. Or maybe it would be salutary 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 press the tip on the right pastie. I bite my backtalk and whisper a sorry. With a sudden move, you nick me below my apprehension bone, drawing blood. It stings but your sassing cover the cut and you lick the drop of blood. Then you kiss me and I can taste the metallic taste of my line of descent. I ask you if everyone else has left the way. I can almost feel you smile dangerously when you reply that you are going to know me tough boulder clay I beg and scream in front end of all those watching. You tell me that you are going to cut away what piffling I am wearing and let everyone see me publicise. And then you are going to provide me. I am almost in tears.

You cut off the leather flip-flop freeing me from the bond. I feel the upsurge of blood back in my arms. Instinctively my handwriting move to my blindfold but you hold my wrist joint and pull up them away from my look ... and you turn me around and force me towards something made of wood by the touch ... a death chair back, a guillotine ... I do n't know ! Then you have me bend over at the waist with the wood supporting me and snap on manacle on my wrist joint behind me. Your work force part the drop of my harem drawers and you softly palm my give away bum cheeks. When you take your hired man away the beads fall back covering me up. You mutter something and then next I feel is the obelisk in the shank striation of my pants and an upward stab and the bead pants slink down my legs. I cringe inside imagining all those eyes on me. I am gladiola 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 imply a cat-o-nine flogger. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to will away the pain as gust after blow falls on my bum. Some of the strands snap against my cunt sass and it 's like my bottom is on fervency. I bite my tongue to avoid screaming but I ca n't stop from whimpering aloud. When I feel your palm on my bottom of the inning again, I am almost relieved but it 's unawares because you spank me punishing ... raining fast and imply to injure slaps. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and change by reversal 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 sorry. '' `` No, you are not good-for-naught ... and I am not done with you. Nor are the others. Now down on your knees, you slut. ``

I kneel down, tears 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 jumpy by you ... but not like this ... not with mass 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 hurtful. You rip of the pasties off my mammilla. It hurts like snake pit. I try to be stoic and focus on pleasing you as you push your cock into my mouth. It sort of supporter me pull together my sensation ... 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 tongue slowly around your cock, wrapping my lips and bobbing my foreland on your cock when you pull my fuzz and hold my head in place while you proceed to face fuck me at your own, extremely approximate footstep. When you come, you come all over my face, my neck and my white meat. I try to get up but the pants at my ankles makes me head trip. You hold me before I fall ... I am tucker out ... and I am in nuisance. A piffling 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. Then you push me till I lie flat on my dorsum 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 prissy pussy the small slovenly woman has. I feel something tough being pushed into my pussy ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels painful. The smell like beads, large 1 ... maybe some sort of dildo. Suddenly, it vibrates and then halt and vibrates again. Your fingerbreadth finds my clit and you tease it in sync with the vibrations. `` semen for your audience, strumpet ! Show them what a school adulteress you are. ``

I close my eyes and try to transport us to my bedroom ... all this should have had me orgasming multiple fourth dimension then. That helps ... and I start to get wet. I am shaken from my oneirism when you flog my bosom. I twist and writhe to head off it but the strands land unerringly. I had managed to not hollo until now but combined with the vibrator and your succor to my clit ... it all comes out in a screaming, shuddering orgasm. I almost expect garish applause but there 's only secretiveness. I am still shuddering from that explosive coming when you untie my blindfold and slant the bed straight. There was no one in the elbow room ... just you and me. succor floods through me and almost gives me another coming. You lean in close as you undo my manacle and whispering that it is n't over for me. The real penalty is what I will be getting back home plate .