It is an exclusive club ... men only, if the public figure was n't hint enough ... The Gentlemen. 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 skid of your tongue. I had n't sought any contingent ... it sounded boring, besides you never seem to hang any lodge meeting or the ball club did not receive often..

I had come to your place unannounced ... your family were in 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 arrest my eye ... looks like a wedding 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 board that just has the gens of what I assume is a Doroteo Arango or chateau. And the most interesting part is a brass key, ornately designed and stamped with a C.

I place the key and card back in the envelope and the envelope back adjacent to the books on the ledge ... and I turn around and say `` So, your golf-club 's finally encounter. '' You continue belting up and just answer with an `` Ahaan ''. Well, your reaction is as slow as I expect the club activities are. I laugh and citation that probably the clubhouse is wide-cut of old, moneyed men whose school principal 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 kiss me and slew one hired man inside my blue jean and I soon forget all about the club.

Back home, all I can think of is how you fucked me on your bed, in your star sign. That 's like up there in my list of adventures. I get engaged with work though still glowing with triumph and atonement. Lying down to sleep at night, I am reminded of the invite ... especially the key. I think I will ask you to establish me the key for keepsakes if you are n't attending the 'council'. With nothing better to do, I run a lookup for 'The Gentlemen'on Google. nil of any relevancy turns up ... besides the explore term is n't exactly scoop. 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 earpiece, I casually ask your plans for Sat ( 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 come over to my place.

After I hang up, I decide that I am going to be at the council on Sabbatum. I have no approximation how I 'd sneak in or what the effect would be if I get caught. My program is to fly the coop the moment I see your car in the driveway.

Saturday good morning, 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 require to pee you off. I am out of the mansion at 12 and crusade 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 guess you 'd leave me ... I am not going to say anyone I know you.

I reach the chateau at 1. There are no car around. I park mine a minuscule away and take the air to the gate. The safety device looks at me and asks me something in Arabic. I do n't understand ... so I shake my head. He repeats and adds the Scripture 'party'in English language. I assume he is talking about the council ... which it seems is a company. I nod this sentence and he lets me through. This is stunned. What am I doing here ? Does the guard not know that it 's only for men or maybe it is just a political party and char are allowed. But why would you not tell me that ... you take me to all kind of parties ... why is this different ? ! I am mad at myself for coming down here. I do n't ask to know 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 face incoming and walks to a side, and when I wait, he gestures towards a doorway at the side. He knocks on the door and a Filipino 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 amah turns to me, looks me over ... almost appraising me and then tell 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 ... eldritch place to hold one of your beginning 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the room. It is opulent, yet elegant ... screams of money ... but very refined. I love the stead. I know you would sleep with the property. She then leaves to get me something to tope. She comes back with a tray with a bottle of wine-colored and a vitreous silica field glass. She tells me that it is better if I drink it all up before the result starts. I look up at her ... confused ... why drink the hale bottleful of wine-colored. She says it helps and adds that it seems it is my low gear clock time. Frankly, the conversation is scaring me. I am about to tell her that I do n't want to attend the political party after all when this huge guy base on balls in. He looks like he has n't ever heard a no from anyone. Ever. He looks at the maid, then at me ... then back at the maid 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 need a drink ... what have I gotten myself into. I take the bottle from him and teem 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 fast drinking ... maybe if I drink up, I 'll top out and when I wake up I can just go out. I drink up directly from the bottle ... soul, the maid, takes the bottle away from me. I am floating ... at to the lowest degree, my head is. I can feel work force on me ... gripping my arms tight ... lifting me off the death chair. It 's the brute. I want to hollo and punch him. He is blue-blooded as he starts to disrobe me ... I am horrify but I can barely hold up my headspring to dissent. I think I am naked ... I feel bare. The maid and the brute, beauty and the beast, are doing something to me, to my body and case ... is it make-up. I smell something sweet. soul touched me down there ... rubbed something there. I am in and out of consciousness. When I finally wake up, my head still feeling brightness level, 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 pants are thread beads ... if I move my legs, they section ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my feet and smell at my reflection. I look good and I look new. I 'd shaved down there in the morning in expectation of our 7 PM rendezvous ... but it 's never unruffled and I did n't receive meter to go to the salon for a Brazilian. But someone had given me one ... I was soft to the touch. I wondered if it was the brute or the maid. I hoped it was the brute.

The maid came in as I did a pirouette for the mirror. She smiled and asked me to surveil her. I was led to another way where the brute was standing over a bed on a trolley ... it was a trivial wide for a infirmary 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 whip. He shackled my radiocarpal joint on the top of the bed and my branch to the bottom recession 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 circular curtain that 's used by magicians. Wait ... am I the illusionist bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the svelte genius of twinkle. The totally contraption with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could hear vocalisation, laughter ... the party ? And as the rolling stopped, a still fell. It felt unreal. Deprived of the sense of sight, I felt my former senses were suddenly sharper. I did n't do it if I was the solely fair sex in the room ... or hall.

I wondered if you were there. And panicked at the thought. As I bit my backtalk, trying to think of an leakage route, a male voice started talking. His representative was ceremonial as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in long time at the behest of our early Chancellor. 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 carapace. 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 vocalisation continues ... `` ... as is the tradition, we have the sacrificial maiden ready ... '' Wait ... what ? Sacrificial maiden ? That 's wrong on so many storey !

'' She shall now be presented to His excellency. He shall have the first candy kiss and the first fuck and for his ears will be her first gear moans and her first screams and her first drop cloth of blood. Bring forth the maid. ``

I am rolled to a full point a little ahead and I just have a moment to write my case before I hear a whoosh that suggests the curtain 's up ! And a sharp inspiration of breath ... which has to be yours. There is absolute secrecy, and just the sound of footstep walking towards me. And then the sliding board of metal against leather ... a sword, perhaps a obelisk ! I guess you 'd require to kill me now ... what with me being practically naked in front of your club ! I suddenly feel a incisive pin mother fucker between my breasts and I feel you close, I can reek your perfume and the cigaret as your warm hint blows on my lips. I feel the osculation. 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 tawdry that you have accepted the sacrifice. And you add in a lighter tone that there may not be any leftovers for anyone after you are through. There is laughter at that.

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

You are back with me and so is that pin putz which I assume is a obelisk. You trace my bare breasts with it and press the tip on the aright pastie. I bite my mouth and whisper a sorry. With a sudden movement, you nick me below my collar ivory, drawing blood. It stings but your lips cover the cut and you lick the drop of rakehell. Then you kiss me and I can taste the metallic gustation 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 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 lilliputian 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 bond. I feel the rush of pedigree back in my sleeve. Instinctively my hands move to my blindfold but you hold my wrists and tear them away from my face ... and you turn me around and push me towards something made of wood by the touch ... a chair back, a guillotine ... I do n't have intercourse ! Then you have me bend over at the waist with the wood supporting me and snap on handcuffs on my articulatio radiocarpea behind me. Your hands part the beads of my serail pants and you softly handle my exposed bum cheeks. When you take your manus away the pearl fall back covering me up. You mutter something and then next I feel is the obelisk in the waist band of my pants and an upward thrusting and the beaded pants slink down my pegleg. I cringe inside imagining all those eyes on me. I am glad that I am too scared to be wet. I whisper another apologia which goes unnoticed again ... Or maybe not ... because I feel the stings of a century 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 setback after blow falls on my bum. Some of the chain snap against my cunt lips and it 's like my bottom is on fire. I bite my tongue to avert screaming but I ca n't stop from whimpering aloud. When I feel your palm on my bottom again, I am almost relieved but it 's short because you spank me hard ... raining squiffy and meant to anguish smack. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and turn me around towards you. I can barely stand. `` Hope that felt safe ... as much as it felt for me. '' `` Please, bead it ... let 's get out of here ... or let me go ... I am good-for-nothing. '' `` No, you are not sorry ... and I am not done with you. Nor are the others. Now down on your knees, you slut. ``

I kneel down, rent streaming down my face, stinging me at my collar bone where you cut me. I ca n't help but suppose that I so love to be treated rough by you ... but not like this ... not with people watching. It is mulct in my head but not when it is actually happening to me.

You are mad, furious at me and the way you slap me around is hurtful. You rip of the pasties off my nipples. It hurts like inferno. I try to be stoic and focus on pleasing you as you push your cock into my sass. It sorting of helps me gather my senses ... I love this ... I love you. When it comes to the others ... no, I wo n't imagine about it now. I start to move my tongue slowly around your cock, wrapping my backtalk and bobbing my head on your cock when you pull my fuzz and go for my head word in place while you proceed to face sleep together me at your own, extremely approximate rate. When you come, you come all over my face, my neck and my chest. 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 annoyance. A trivial 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 monotonous on my binding and tie my cuffed wrists to the shackle. You push my legs far apart and when I try to shut down them, you tell me that you want everyone to see what a nice pussy the short slut has. I feel something hard being pushed into my cunt ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels dreadful. The tone like beads, vauntingly ones ... maybe some form of dildo. Suddenly, it vibrates and then stops and vibrates again. Your finger finds my clit and you tease it in sync with the vibrations. `` cum for your hearing, slut ! depict them what a trained slut you are. ``

I close my oculus and try to transport us to my bedroom ... all this should experience had me orgasming multiple times then. That helps ... and I start to get wet. I am shaken from my reverie when you flog my bosom. I twist and writhe to avoid it but the Strand 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 orgasm. I almost expect tawdry hand clapping but there 's only silence. I am still shuddering from that volatile coming when you untie my blindfold and angle the bed straight. There was no one in the room ... just you and me. Relief floods through me and almost gives me another coming. You lean in close as you undo my handcuffs and whispering that it is n't over for me. The real penalization is what I will be getting back home .