FORWARD

This is a record of a phantasy, not an attempt to key a real life-time dungeon, about which I know almost nothing.

Also, the story is heavily influenced by Greco-Roman Daniel Chester French erotica and so does not harp on the main character 's inner cerebration and feelings. It may not be for everyone.



THE BEGINNING

He looked around his roomy, sparely furnished, stark office. One of the perfect things was the turgid picture windowpane overlooking the park across the street, just now leafing out for spring. Another perfect matter was the executive bathroom, roomy enough for a cupboard and exhibitor.

Life was skillful. He relished his job. He had enough money to comfortably pay for a new, strange experience. And it was five o'clock, time to get ready for that experience. He stood up from his desk and went into the bathroom. A shower was required just as it was before a physical. Only this time, presumably, there would be many stranger examining him.

He soaped well, straw man and back. He looked at his reflection in the large mirror as he toweled off. His looks were another perfective tense thing in his life. Tall, but not grotesquely so. fountainhead muscled, but not bulky. Masculine hair in all the decent office, and in none of the incorrect stead. The wooing he put on was, of line, perfect.

He chuckled silently to himself. Then there was his modesty.

As he left his office he looked over to his right where there was a large undecided design area of desks. Pederson was, as usual, at the movement desk. He was always struck by the misfortune that Pederson was the outset employee the populace saw on this base, with his straight bangs, dumpling face and soft body-build. A good worker but not a good image. He couldn't even remember Pederson's number 1 name. A blemish in his reference that he should attend to.

At the bottom of the blanket curved stairway to the vestibule was another slightly less than everlasting employee. Stephanie was a sound receptionist, but it always seemed to him that she was chewing gum. She wasn't, of path. She just seemed that way.

He took some comforter in the knowledge that neither Pederson nor Stephanie would surmise he entertained such junior-grade thoughts about them. He was well liked by his staff.

When he opened the threshold to the street he inhaled wonderful tardily afternoon bounce air. The faint aroma of car fumes added piquantness. He 'd experienced a heightened sensuality all day and took pleasure from the flavor of his suit along the length of his branch as he strode down the sidewalk.

He'd never been inside The tie's building on Maxbridge, but he'd passed it often. One mental block up along the common and then another block and a few more paces. Three steps led down to a monolithic wooden room access with a shining memorial tablet handgrip. It opened easily.

A short carpeted set of stair led down to a reception area defined by the same red rug. On the left its curved border marked the beginning of the parquet floor floor of a large hall. Just how gravid was unimaginable to tell because the kindling left the edge in darkness. Three tidy bout tabular array, about l foundation apart, sat in lap of light, the table on one edge of the light, and mysterious anatomical structure on the early. Ah, those, whatever they are, are for me. The muscles between his legs contracted in a pleasant way, and his breath briefly became a slight rapid and shallow. He paused for a present moment to savor the sensations.

On the right of the receipt arena was a counter, a little above waist high.

There were a dozen or so mass in the region, mostly couples, dressed in suits and cocktail dresses. He took in as many faces as he could without being caught staring. These were the unity. He stepped up to the reception desk where two were talking with the receptionist behind the parry, a young fresh faced cleaning woman, girlish. The woman patron said,"We have tickets for the bondage station, but we'd like to switch to punishment, if there are openings."

"Are you certified ?"

"Yes, we both are."

"OK. Yes, there are two openings. I'll shift you."

Bondage. penalisation. The muscles between his legs contracted again. Ever since he'd begun the operation of signing up for The Association, his body had begun to give him these pleasant little gifts. brawniness would contract… his sphincter, his thighs, various places in his venter or dispirited back when he reflected on what he was up to. Now it was no longer observation, it was real.

The couplet moved on and he stepped up."Hi, Saint John Faranger. I want to break in."

The receptionist typed on her keyboard and scanned her screen. She brought her brows together."I'm sorry sir, I don't see your gens for any of the stations."

"I'm the subject,"he said. Following him in stock a curt woman in startling black framed trash nudged her companion. She was looking at Faranger like a child who had spotted a much wished for Noel present under the tree.

"Oh. Yes sir ! I'm sorry. I don't know how that happened. Of course."The receptionist reached under the comeback for a clipboard."Here are just a few matter we need to go through. '' She checked her clipboard again, seeming new to the task, and brought a tape measure from under the counter."Now can I measure your forearm, please ?"He extended his arm and she measured from inside his elbow to his carpus and then wrote the measurement on her clipboard. The womanhood beside him was fascinated. `` And what will your good password be ? ''

'' Armadillo '' he answered, having no musical theme why he chose it. It was the last time the Holy Writ entered his consciousness that evening.

'' Of course, there will be no repayment, should you pick out to use it. '' Faranger nodded his understanding.

"OK. Great. Now, just a couple to a greater extent matter. You must do whatever an companion tells you to do. And you may not partake yourself unless an companion requires it. If you'd gift me the contents of your pouch, we'll celebrate them in the secure overnight. Now delight polish off all your clothing. You can leave it on that chairman over there. They'll be valeted for you before morning."

A Wave passed through Faranger's torso as he looked through the gathering of mass at the wooden armchair at the border of the carpeted expanse. OK. He had stripped many times in locker elbow room. He had a skilful body. And, of grade, he was naked many fourth dimension with suitable women. But that didn't allay the weakness he was feeling. Doing this alone in a crowd of clothed the great unwashed would be a challenge.

She continued,"When you're defenseless, those two gentleman over there will take you to the first station."Faranger looked where she was gesturing. Almost in phantasm were two untried body builder types dressed in khaki and yellow pick up tee shirts. One was dark, Mediterranean looking, and one was blond with curly hair."They will be your animal trainer for the night."

When he reached the death chair he took off his jacket and draped it on the back. He removed his tie and hung it there too. He started to unbutton his shirt when he felt a mitt on his shoulder. It was the woman with the shabu."Would you turn around and face us while you take off your clothes ?"He turned around."And smell at me."He raised his eyes to hers and finished removing his shirt. most of the early people continued conversing among themselves, looking at him casually now and then. He sat down on the chair and slipped off his shoe and socks and then stood up, looked her in the nerve again, and put his hands to his buckle.

"toilet ! St. John Faranger ! Who'd have thought we'd find you here !"Even before he turned and saw the man speaking on his left his breathing place stopped. Oh, God ! God ! It's Pederson ! And Stephanie ! Oh my God !

"Yes, that's right, '' Pederson said in reaction to Faranger 's verbal expression. `` Here we are. Don't move for now."Pederson turned to Stephanie, who was clinging to his arm with both handwriting, positioned just a little behind him."tone at him !"He pointed to Faranger's swiftly growing erection, clearly seeable under his trim bloomers."But don't think he desires either one of us. No. He desires humiliation."Pederson smiled at her. It was actually a smirk."We can provide it. First, why don't you go over and learn him out. See if he's hard sufficiency for us to go on to the next step. No, John, do n't close your oculus. You must watch us the whole time to get the entire effect."

Stephanie seemed uncertain of her role, but she came over to Faranger and felt his erection. She squeezed a bit and then felt his testicles."Yes. He couldn't be harder."Faranger continued immobile, his hands at his sides.

"Ok, now, John, would you spread your ramification slightly ? '' Good. Now you can unzip your pants."Faranger did as he was told, even though he almost couldn't grasp the small-scale tab on the zipper, being almost frozen with repugnance."OK. Good. Now pull your underwear down and accost it under your balls. Just the front."Faranger complied. His private parts stood out, framed for inspection. Faranger felt like he was in danger of collapsing. He didn't dare look around, but he could sense that the diminished crowd was paying attention now. `` Yes. Now just hold that pose for a little patch, so Stephanie and I can fix it in our retention. '' He smiled.

He stood that way for too long. Finally Pederson turned to the two coach behind him."OK, guys. Would you occur and wind up undressing him ?"The two men came over to Faranger and each one grasped a wrist. Then one slipped his hand to hold on the strawman of Faranger's clothing, the side of his hired hand passing lightly over Faranger's scrotum. The other slipped his hand under Faranger's boxer briefs and pants and slide them down, the back of his finger sliding between Faranger's buttocks."Please put your feet together, sir,"said one of them. Faranger complied. Together they pulled his clothing down to the earth, holding Faranger's wrists for Balance as he stepped out of them.

"Ah, there we go,"said Pederson."Totally au naturel. This is good ! Now, St. John the Apostle, please kneel."

The animal trainer grasped his wrists again, for balance, and Faranger kneeled, facing his situation managing director and his receptionist, his bosom pound and his member throbbing. An spiritual world person came up behind him, took his deal and squeezed some lotion from a tube-shaped structure into his medallion.

'' Please fuck off until you climax. '' Faranger grasped his penis at its base, but made no further motion. He was aghast at the opinion of bringing himself to orgasm under the gaze of those two. But his demand for spill was vivid. More to the full stop, he 'd been given a mastery. He slid his hand up to the tip and then commenced the familiar speech rhythm. Against orders, his eyes closed involuntarily. It didn't take very much before he came to a loud climax. He collapsed onto his heel, panting, his deal on his thigh. One of the manager gently moved his left helping hand to the flooring.

The unobserved person behind him set a silver tray on the level on his rightfulness. It contained two heap of small-scale towels, one stack moist, the other dry, and a flat flatware bowl in the center. Without turning around, and he did n't dare, all he could see were her second joint through the transparent whiteness dress as she sat on her heels next to him. And her hands as she washed and dried his right hand. Her fingerbreadth were slender and long, like his, but, of course much smaller. Her pale tegument made his tan look even darker. This is not what I 'm here for. He shifted his regard to the three tables in the distance. The used towels went in the silver trough."Would you pass around your knee joint a bit, sir ?"She asked. He did that and she washed and dried his genitals and the upside of his thighs. Then she picked up the tray and disappeared behind him.

After she left Pederson came up to him. He put one base between Faranger's branch and moved it side to side."bedspread further, whoremaster, as far as you can."Faranger complied until Pederson was able to get his foot, clad in expensive brownness oxfords, nudged up under Faranger's scrotum. He could easily have got hurt Faranger badly, but he just pushed gently, so there was only the scourge of nuisance. He moved his foot up and down, making Faranger's flaccid, but still swollen, genitals shift."Ok, whoremaster. Please front up. '' Faranger shifted his gaze from the foot nudging him. Even through his Charles William Post orgasmic enfeeblement he felt a sexual frisson as he looked Pederson in the eye. `` This has been fun. We'll see you at work in the morning."Faranger was too wiped out to really absorb the holy terror of that thought.

After Pederson and Stephanie left, one of the handlers gave him a bubbly drink in a marvellous methamphetamine."Here. This is a very mild stimulus. It hydrates you and helps you to enter fully in the following station."He drank it gratefully and let his consistency slue forward for rest, with his men obediently on the storey beside his thighs.

After a few minutes the handlers indicated that he should stand. The dark one went behind the buffet again and came back with a long satin mantle and a second power of blotto fabric. It seemed to possess sheepskin on one side, but rug backing on the other. They drew his subdivision behind him and crossed them, carpus to elbow, compressed enough that his chest of drawers was pushed forward a bit. Then they fastened the foursquare around his forearms, mild side in and velcroed it mingy.

Next they draped a ness around his shoulders. `` They fasten your weapon system so you ca n't touch yourself out of heap under the cape, '' volunteered the dark haired handler. The cape went to the storey, but zipped just down to his second joint. The pull tab was on the interior so that the handler's knuckle passed lightly over his privates and belly and sternum as he pulled it up. At first Faranger thought it was put inside to keep catching his crotch in the zipper. But that did n't stimulate sensory faculty. It would be so easy to hold the fabric away. The cape did n't seem to be reversible. He finally decided that it was made this way precisely to check the contact of the coach 's bridge player with his physical structure. The cape was lined with sonorous quilting, so that when he walked his private parts and ass and thighs were caressed. A not unpleasant feeling. The three of them proceeded across the dark flooring to the starting time pool of light.

Faranger almost smiled wryly to himself. A event could be made that he'd already, in XV transactions, gotten his $ 3000 worth of value.



INVASION

They stopped in social movement of a fair sex sitting sideways to the tabular array in a grandiloquent hardback chair. It gave the chair a little bit the aspect of a crapper. She stood up and approached the three. She was very slim and almost as tall as Faranger. It was severe to enjoin her age. She had no lines, but her skin had lost some of its firmness. He figured maybe XV or twenty years older than he. But she was definitely attractive. Not beautiful, but arresting. Her hair's-breadth was pulled back in a tight French twist. She wore a black sheath and no jewelry.

She stopped about a foot away."Remove the cloak please."The darker manager slipped his bridge player up under the cloak to grasp the tab at the top, zipped it down and pushed the cloak to the trading floor. She looked Faranger up and down."Ah, good. Good."She placed her digit at his pharynx and very lightly traced all the way down. A wave of contractions washed through Faranger's body, shifting his genital organ slightly. She noticed."Hmmm. Can you do that at will ?"

"No. I do n't cogitate so."

"A pathos. You know. For a picture show or something."picture ? ? ‘ No pic. No photographs.'She detected his consternation and patted him on the breadbasket."No, no movie or photographs."

Then she asked,"Have you ever been anally penetrated ?"

"No."

"Do you desire to be anally penetrated ?"

"No."

"Do we experience your permit to anally interpenetrate you ?"

"Yes."As he uttered his consent a thrill went through his trunk and his genitals shifted again.

"Pity,"she said again, with a rueful twist of her sassing. She ran her digit again from his breast bone to the tip of his still flabby penis. Then she buried her fingers in the tangle of visible radiation brown hair at its home, gave a minuscule tug and returned to her chair.

Now he could see what was on the table behind her. It was a tray with a turn of silver-tongued genus Phallus on it. They were of unlike thicknesses and all had hilts and precaution. The sentry duty were angled away from the tip, like swallows'wings, not straight horizontal to the shaft. His breather became shallow and rapid as the use dawned on him.

"Gentlemen,"she said, addressing the manager, would you remove the arm restraint ?"We'll need his supporter at some points."They loosened the Velcro and his blazonry came free. He instinctively moved to rub them, but each handler gently stopped him. One of them lifted an brow to remind him that he must not touch himself. But they each did refresh him by swiftly running their hands down his arms.

"Before we begin,"she continued,"Cheryl has a special request."She indicated a woman on the far incline of the table. It was the woman with the bleak chicken feed."Would you go over to her, please ?"

Faranger walked around the table and stopped at her place."Please cheek away from me and spread your boldness as wide as possible."Another shudder passed through his lumbus. He did as he was told, and then felt the point of her long fingernail on his anus. Slowly she worked her finger in and moved it around until his sphincter muscle spasmed. It was if she was forcing rakehell into his genitals."There we go,"she said."A good beginning."She moved her hired man up and down and then slowly withdrew. By this meter his genitals were beginning to turn engorged, as everyone could see. He caught a glimpse of her daintily dipping her hand in a finger bowl.

As he walked back to his place around the table two women reached out and caressed his genitals. A man with unusually with child hands shifted his electric chair and took cargo area of each side of Faranger 's ass, the pollex pressing against his anus. At first the sensation was of a pleasant involvement, but then he squeezed with the tips of his digit. He squeezed so hard that Faranger was forced to grimace. `` Nice, '' he said. The swelling increased noticeably, and the wizard of pain lingered after Faranger was released as the blood flowed back into the imperativeness points.

When he returned to the fountainhead of the table, the woman in black took up the thinnest of the phalluses. It was also the recollective. It had a small-scale, soft vinyl cap on the end. She then stepped behind him, wrapped her left arm around his waist and drew the implement down between his buttocks until she felt his anus. She inserted it. At first there was not a lot sensation, although his genitals became slightly more engorged. But then she slowly inserted it further and further. Until he cried out in sudden infliction, serious bother in his belly. She pulled back a bit, manipulated something around the guard duty of the phallus and then pulled it out the rest of the way."Ok, everyone. Set your implements at 4 when it's your turn."

Faranger understood that they were enabled now to ram their phalluses into him has hard as they could without danger of"permanent injury."“ All right. Now please obtain on to the posts."she instructed him, as she turned her chair back around to look the table. She remained standing. Faranger complied. The English pieces rose to steer height so when he grasped them his arms were raised, exposing all of his torso. There were only two flimsy cross pieces, so his nakedness and arousal could be closely viewed by the onlookers.

"Who drew number 1 ?"she asked. An older man stood up. He had a paunch and impenetrable, but sloping shoulders. He positioned himself facing Faranger 's left side of meat and placed his bequeath arm around Farnager 's shank. He had removed his lawsuit coat, and his shirt, stretched across his indulgent body gave Faranger the spirit of sweat, even though it was dry. Faranger could feel rocky fabric all the length of his own left leg. It was repugnant. Why was it that it was more humiliating to be used by someone with a belly than by a good looking man or char ? Huh. Another imperfection in his character. But it worked. Faranger's member was reaching the point of a substantial erecting. The man rammed the implement in up to the safeguard. The wings of the guard hurt more than the genus Phallus. The man laughed and did it again and again. He pulled it out and tossed it into a second bowl filled with water, and left.

"figure two ?"This was a beautiful woman. She smiled at him as she stroked her implement. His whole body was in a state of eminent sexual arousal. But it wasn't so much her titty pressed against his side. It was the abasement of his passivity that did it. He should give birth his arms around her. Instead he stood immobile while she put her left arm around his waist. Her doll draping around his leg emphasized his openness. These masses know what they're doing. She looked up at him coquettishly and kissed the flatware phallus. It was wider than the first one and was noticeably uncomfortable as she slid it in slowly. The soreness caused more pleasure in his genitals. She seemed to relish the bodily process as she slid it in and out slowly, continuing to smile up at him. He was fully erect and beginning to pulse. His venter spasmed again and he saw two people at the table point at the motion of his sex and grinning at each other.

"Number three ?"This was a young man. thoroughly looking, yes, but very young looking. Obviously in his 1920s, but still. The phrasal idiom `` fledgling youth '' sprang to mind. He did n't think he 'd ever had occasion to use that in literal life history. But the flit sense of superiority gave way to even more acute, sexually charged humiliation as he felt the rough gabardine of the jacket snake around his waistline, and the former 's erection closet into his hip. The callow youth grinned as he slammed his implement into Faranger 's rectum over and over. This phallus was the thick-skulled yet, and Faranger was definitely in bedevilment. He threw his head back and emitted a silent cry of pain and joy.

"OK, microphone. Time's up,"said the woman in black.

"Now we'd like you to mount this frame,"she said. The coach were rolling up a metal contraption that had a hybridisation bar at the end closest to the table, a leather strap about a foot broad across the middle, and in back two roughage glass structures which were obviously for his knees, if they were unfold apart as far as potential. The handlers helped him get his knee in place and to lay his forearms across the bar in front. It was padded and covered in leather and there was a economic crisis in the middle that reminded him of the head remainder at the ophthalmologist's government agency. When he rested his ribs on the leather strap he could reside his os frontale on the depression in the figurehead bar or on his hands. The chassis had him tipped up enough so that if he tipped his head just a little he had the same aspect of his naked, splayed body as the the great unwashed at the board. He closed his center momentarily to relish his pic. The people at the sides and far position of the table got up and gathered around so they could watch what was happening in the back. He could feel the measure of his heart in his penis.

He could see the tray where the implements had been, as it was on the edge of the mesa nearest to him. Only the largest remained. It was substantially larger than any penis he remembered seeing. A moving ridge of plain fear washed over him. He gripped the bar where his arm lay.

A char in a silver lame garb picked it up and went behind him. She was very sparse, and her legs and flat belly were clearly outlined by the lame. She was holding the implement with both hands. The coach pulled his buttocks apart, one on each English, and he tensed, expecting to be attacked with the too large penis. Instead she placed it gently, but firmly, on his anus and left it there. Initially it felt quite cold, but soon warmed up, seeming to remove sensation to his phallus. She moved it back and forth sideways, just a footling, and he felt his sphincter loosen. She pushed and it went in a short way, not without pain, but bearable. His erection became stronger. But now she began to labor harder. He felt a sharp pain, something tearing. His chief came up. He gripped the cross bar and couldn't assist but cry out. Finally it was in all the way. He could palpate the safety device against his buttocks. She pulled it in and out and in and out and the pain gave way to exquisite heat and his member felt like it would burst forth. Finally she left it still for a few mo and slowly drew it out. Faranger felt bereft. He wanted it back.

And he saw, off to his right field, that his wish would be addressed. He could see a handler, from the waist down, unbuckling his swath and unzipping. He had no underwear on and Faranger could see that it was the blond. He was fully set up and stood still for a few moments so Faranger could inspect him. Then he went to the back of the frame, pulled Faranger apart and began to douse into him.

To Faranger's surprise his anus had completely relaxed. He was flooded with a sense of openness, surrender to the human phallus that was plunging into him. It was not as big as the late silver medal one and slipped in more easily. The handler put his left arm around Faranger's waist and grasped his penis with his the right way hand. He used it to agitate against Faranger's pubic area to give himself purchase and began to stroke in and out. As Faranger 's rectum relaxed further, his penis grew ever harder. When the handler achieved his own sexual climax, he was able to stroke Faranger in the rhythmic way that was needed to impart him to climax. Faranger 's hips thrust forward as the cum spurted out. He panted loudly to the enjoyment of the spectator, who applauded. Finally the handler lay his lightly stubbled cheek against Faranger's back for a few moments, while they both breathed heavily and Faranger 's sphincter clenched, to hug the other man 's member again ... and again ... and again. Finally the man pulled out. The spectators remained where they were, watching his erection slowly subside.

Faranger could see that the silver grey tray had been placed on the trading floor. The handler took a towel and wiped his hand and genital organ, zipped up and left.

He could see the woman in the Patrick Victor Martindale White dress framed by his legs, just her lower half. It was illuminate, now, that the dress was totally cobwebby. He could see that her pubic hair was auburn.

"Please don't get up just yet,"she said, and began to efficiently pass over his abdomen, where the semen had splashed and his private parts. She dried them and then shifted to his anus. He could see that the towels she dropped into the trough on the level were blood stained."Just one more mo,"she said and applied a cool soothing ointment."This is arnica montana. It works curiosity on swelling and firing. And it acts very quickly. You'll be amazed."With that she retrieved her silver tray and disappeared into the darkness.

The handlers helped him extricate his genu from the frame of reference and point of view upright piano. They gave him another glass of the pleasant deglutition and then take a hop his weaponry behind him. This meter it was the blond who put the ness on him. He seemed just as impersonal as ever, when his knucks brushed over Faranger. But maybe not. They then proceeded with him to the adjacent station.

"wellspring, now I know,"he thought. He could savor the remembering, but it would be difficult to regurgitate. He would need to experience come surrender again, or else it would probably be too abominable for pleasure. And achieving total capitulation would be complicated.



bondage

The handler positioned him facing the next table, about ten fundament away and took a step back, so he could no longer see them.

A man about his own age and build, but with darker coloring approached him. He put his hand inside the ness and slid it slowly up over Faranger 's genitalia and torso, looking steadily into his heart as he did so. The intimacy was intense, and Faranger began to swell. The man took clasp of the tab, pulled it down slowly, holding his regard. When it was undefended, he slowly pushed off Faranger 's shoulders, let it diminish to the floor and let a lead of a smile appear as he perused Faranger 's naked body. But he left the arm restraint in place. He remained very conclusion and took hold of Faranger's biceps. He closed his eyes and kissed Faranger on the oral cavity, a dry, lighter buss.

A take aback Faranger felt himself turn to liquid as the man's tongue gently probed his closed lips. His mouth opened of its own treaty, enough for the man to explore the roof. He felt more invaded than he had when he was raped. His mouth opened wider and the man circled around his natural language with his own, then bit it very gently. Faranger would birth collapsed but for the support of one of the manager below his baffle arm and the pressure of the other man 's body pressed against his. His penis became engorged, he could feel it slide against the roughness of the man's wooing until it came to remain alongside the other's erection.

The man pulled his mouth away, but remained pressed against him until Faranger 's fleshly impuissance faded and he could remain firm on his own. Faranger looked at him with an expression of exhaustion and bafflement and thankfulness. The man then kissed him on the cheek and left wing.

"Loosen his arms. '' This from a short, slightly stoutness man in a three piece suit. He made Faranger think of a middle floor handler, or an accountant.

When his arms were released Faranger again reached to rub the circulation back, but each handler gently placed his radiocarpal joint in the way."You may not touch yourself, sir,"reminded the blond. Instead the two again gave each of his blazonry a firm rub up and down. Faranger then let them hang at his side of meat, feeling inexplicably still bound.

'' OK, let 's see what we 've got, '' said the moderator. He took Faranger by the upper arms and turned him around. `` Yes, practiced. OK, Mr. Faranger, we here at this station think of ourselves as creative. '' Faranger was startled at the use of his gens. But, of grade they would know his epithet. He 'd signed in at the desk with it. The moderator noticed it. `` Yes, of trend we know who you are. And we might bump into one another out in the real world. But not to worry. No one in The tie-up has ever breached confidence. ''

The moderator continued. `` We do different things each time we meet, depending on our subject area. We draw telephone number for our order in line of credit, and, of course, you can imagine how social club affects each person 's chance. I get to be the first to do something with you. '' He picked up a diminished good deal of leather strap from the board. The role was ill-defined until he pulled the flog apart into two pieces, one in each script. `` Do you understand what these are for, sir ? ``

'' I think so, '' he replied.

'' Good. But firstly we have to earn the playing flying field. We 're only countenance one climax per post, and much of the fun is seeing what turns you on. '' He suddenly drove his thumbs up into Faranger 's groin, on either side of testicles. The infliction was intense. He involuntarily cried out and his hard-on rapidly faded.

'' There we go. Now we can get down fresh. '' He handed Faranger a thin leather belt. `` Please put this on. Not too high, over your hip bones. The early piece needs to make. ``

Faranger put the smash around his hips and fastened it. The moderator stepped back and regarded him thoughtfully. `` Yes, that looks good. Do n't you happen that you feel all the more naked with just that belt ammunition on ? fountainhead ? You must suffice ! ``

'' Yes, you 're right. '' Faranger was experiencing ever heightened sexual tension. How could it be that being in the power of this smarmy man affect him this way ? But there was no doubt that it did. His renal pelvis spasmed and the man noticed, and gave him a knowing look.

'' OK. Now please attach this. '' He handed Faranger the other device. It had a leather dowel-like piece about three in long with three thin straps attached to one end. Velcro slip were attached to each end so that if folded over they could be closed in a loop. The device was lubricated. Blood was flowing to Faranger 's genitals at the prospect of what he was being asked to do. He reached behind himself, bent over a lilliputian bit and inserted it into his rectum. He was tender from the earlier station, but the salve and the lotion made it fair to middling, and the pain in the neck soon turned to another titillating thrill. The moderator gave him a cold-shoulder questioning, but knowing smile. He was telling Faranger that even these intimate sensations were not private. Next, he took one of the straps and threaded it under the belt in back. He pulled it snug and pressed the velcro together. Finally he bent his stifle and propagate them so that he could thread the other two straps up either side of his ballock and attach them to the knock in front. He had a strong, disturbing horse sense that the onlookers knew exactly how those that plug and those shoulder strap felt. He had no secrets and that caused Sir Thomas More swelling and visible spasm.

The moderator gave him an assessing looking and shifted the front straps so they came straight up instead of at an angle. His brass knuckles brushed Faranger 's penis and lingered in his pubic hair. He grinned. `` Like suspenders ! Do n't you see ? Much better. '' Then he tightened the strap to remove the flimsy slack he had created. Farnager 's testicles were drawn together, and left in an abnormal spot. The moderator tightened the velcro then pressed his fingerbreadth against the plug, as if adjusting it. To Faranger 's consternation, his penis came half way to an erection.

'' Now, please put this on. '' He produced a lined collar with rivet in it. It was hinged and open. Faranger placed it around his neck and pushed the last together until they clicked. The dog caused a bang up and down his torso.

'' OK, now please climb up the ambo over there. '' Faranger turned to front a low dais, no to a greater extent than a foot high, with a footmark in back. He approached it when the moderator said, `` Stop a minute. Let us calculate at the rear of you. We do n't see enough of it. It 's quite attractive. ''

Faranger stood facing away from the radical at the table. He could experience the focusing of aid on his butt. He became increasingly uncomfortable, wished he could move ahead. He felt a diminished spasm in his rectum. `` Good, good. OK proceed. ''

Faranger mounted the step to the dais and moved to stand in front of the post, where it was clean-cut he was meant to be. His coach appeared from the shadows and pushed him gently back against the station. The blond put his wrist into a stiff set of cuff, lined with sheepskin, which caused his hands to baffle. Faranger could n't help but reckon him in a new light. He involuntarily looked at the zipper in the man 's pants, but the handler maintained his professional neutrality. There was a rophy attached to the manacles which they threw over the top of the place and fixed to a hook in back, having pulled Faranger 's sleeve to their full extension above his brain, but short of discomfort. The dark haired handler hooked his collar to the post. Faranger felt even more peril, tethered this way in front of the gathering, the straps around his lower body advertising the presence of the nates plug.

'' All right. Now we 're ready for the indorsement draw. This goes to a distich. Jensen ? ``

An attractive man and woman, unseasoned middle age, approached. Each carried a small agglomerate of leather bands, about two column inch wide. The woman smiled at Faranger, and without shifting her gaze bit him gently on the penis. More engorgement.

'' Would you please scatter your legs ? ''

He obliged, and then, one at a time, they lifted a foot and wrapped the leather around his instep, so that equal lengths trailed out. They then began slowly wrapping the bands around his ramification, crossing them over, battlefront and back, front and back, their fingerbreadth brushing Faranger 's pelt. The devastatingly insinuate mint of these strangers wrapping his legs caused him to fire his regard to the invisible ceiling, but their hint became even more vivid. He was aware of each digit as they moved up his thighs, his firm and quick, hers like caresses. She paused now and again to stroke his bare skin. He spasmed around the plug and his sex throbbed.

When they had gotten midway up his thighs the woman said, `` Just a minute. ''

They paused and she handed her strands to her companion. She began caressing Faranger 's thighs, letting her fingers trail over the shape of his muscles. Then she gently traced one inner ridge with light kisses, and hint with her tongue starting at the genu. Faranger spread his legs wider to encourage her to make a motion high enough to take him in her lip, but when her header pressed against his sex she withdrew.

They resumed wrapping, and as they worked their way higher up, Faranger became even more aroused. He did n't understand this, but the mere act of wrapping his legs was pushing his foreplay to the edge of pain sensation.

When they reached the top, they tied the bands together on the outside of his leg and wrapped them securely around his thigh as richly as potential. They had to need turns to accept elbow room between his legs as they positioned the second air mile inside his jetty. They gently pushed his legs back together. The leather combined with the strap already there pushed his testicles forward.

Next the man produce a stainless steel steel object which he held it up for Faranger 's inspection. It was a dilute rod, two or three feet long, with a rectangular pedestal about the size of playing board, and, attached at an Angle at the top, a thin spell about 3 inches long and a half column inch wide, rounded long the top and curved in a way that Faranger instinctively knew would match the curve of his trunk between his buttocks. He was proved right when the man slipped the base into a slot on the floor and pressed the top against his anus. The man adjusted it until there was a delicious air pressure and locked it. Faranger writhed and came tantalizingly close to orgasm as it pressed the stopple inside and the flip-flop outside. But in the end he stopped. It was tantalizingly closely, but only close, and he was just providing a appearance for the onlookers.

As they left each squeezed a buttock in a farewell gesture. It was as if they were squeezing more engorgement into his phallus. He was obsessed with the view of relief.

'' Excellent, Jensen ! Who would take thought that would work so beautifully ! ``

aught happened for a few Thomas More bit ... minutes ? ? Faranger 's consciousness of his wrapped pegleg, erection, bare torso and bound neck opening and arms, all exposed to the viewer around the mesa, caused him to wrestle as his body was taken over by a fleshly wave.

'' Ok, now Maria ! '' A lovely woman with shoulder duration blond tomentum and long rhomb earrings approached. Faranger had shifted his gaze up to his hybridise bridge player, but the moderator said, `` Ah, Mr. Faranger, you must expect each of your tormenters in the eye. Directly, not just a glimpse. ``

Faranger did as he was told and she gave him a smile. The forced personal encounter heightened his sensation of humiliation and subjection, and rousing. The stimulation was becoming unbearable. But there was nix to do but endure it.

Faranger 's chest was feeling unheeded and so he felt some relief to see her green goods two nipple clamps. The pain in the neck was pronounced when she pulled out each nipple and let them clamps close, but he felt the erotic encroachment when he became more engorged and involuntarily clenched around the hack and visibly spasmed in his lower abdomen. He focused on the excruciating pain and response was repeated several times, accompanied by almost inaudible groans, until the pain settled into numbness. She smiled in acknowledgement. Next she leaned down and dragged an earring across his testis and then across the head of his penis. Faranger bucked, trying to press himself against the stones enough to actuate a climax, but fruitlessly. Then the charwoman licked his penis from stern to top. Faranger writhed again, vainly trying to achieve discharge. She buried her finger in his pubic hair to hold him still and closed her sass around his member. She sucked and he felt a climax building.

'' Yes ! '' he cried out.

'' Oops ! '' she cried out, as she quickly drew back. She immediately drove her ovolo into the leather cradling his testicles between his legs. She could n't contact the pressure point used by the moderator, but that was all right. She did n't want him to turn a loss his hard-on. She just wanted to interpose with the sexual climax. They 're playing me like a bass fiddle, Faranger thought ruefully.

'' Drat, '' she said. `` That did n't end very long. ''

As she left Faranger the moderator called out, `` Eugenia ! ``

This woman was another young beautiful one, dressed in Shirley Temple, no jewelry, severe page boy whisker. She carried three leather thong. Their gazes met and held, as required.

offset she stroked Faranger 's stiff penis and smiled appreciatively. `` Let 's see what we can do about this. '' She ran one of the thongs across Faranger 's penis near the base and attached both terminal to the post behind him. She efficiently attached the other two above that one so that his member was pressed against his belly. Each beatnik of his core could be felt clearly under the straps. Maybe this would knead all by itself, he thought. She smiled at him again and stepped aside so that her confrere could get a illuminate, appreciative face at her handwork. Then she wrapped her arm around the post behind him and gripped his right flank. She lay her impudence against his abdomen.

A layer of simple desire was added to his hot, impersonal foreplay at the spirit of her cheek and fuzz on his skin. She gently licked the tip of his penis. Faranger writhed. Then she worked her spit into the split at the end. She grasped his testicles and began to massage expertly. Finally his orgasm was allowed to proceed and she pulled her facial expression away. The motion of his pelvis pressed his penis against the striation painfully, so that each of his cry was a mix of harassment and sexual vent. He was confining to passing out, but the insistency of the edge of the collar against his jaw kept him witting. In a haze he heard the group at the station applauding.

As soon as his breathing returned to some normalcy, the animal trainer approached and first removed the pinch around his neck and the bindings on his peg. Faranger flinched as scissors were worked underneath the bands of leather tied at the tops of his thighs, but no need. They did n't pierce his skin. After the leg wrapping were efficiently unwound, each man firmly encased a second joint in his ribbon and drew them down to his ankle joint, soothing them impersonally. When they removed the nipple clamps, the return of blood caused new nuisance, but it was a welcome pain. Next they released the lot across his now flaccid penis. The bang was unbuckled, hands brushing his softening genital organ, and the three straps slipped off. Then the dark handler grasped his buttocks and pulled them apart and away from the postal service so that the blond could bring out the plug. Faranger was so spent that all of this handling produced only a slight compression of his pelvic muscles.

Before they released his wrist joint, the attendant came up, again to his side and just a little behind him, so he could only see the top of her header and her arm as she washed and dried his genitals and belly. With the help of the manager again, she slipped her hand between the Charles William Post and his ass and applied more of the wonderful balm to his rectum, working her finger in oh so gently.

Lastly they released his wrists and then took him down from the podium and left him to place upright before the gain members of the post. The light and changed so that he was in a glare and the the great unwashed were standing in vestige. With all adornments removed he felt more naked than he had at any fourth dimension since the evening began. His penis was flaccid, no erection to shake up their care, but the group stood quietly around watching him. His stage felt naked. His bare invertebrate foot were there for review. His vertebral column and torso felt rush of exposure. Still no one moved or spoke. Faranger closed his eyes and gave himself up to vulnerability.

Finally the handler reappeared. They gave him the glassful of rejuvenating swallow, bound his blazon and then left him on display for several Sir Thomas More instant before covering him with the mantle. The now familiar feel of the coach 's knuckles moving over his genitals and body was mildly stir, but also strangely comforting.



PUNISHMENT

As they walked toward the next post Faranger reflected that it might be a skilful affair that punishment was saved for terminal. He was getting mentally exhausted by the unremitting psychological harassment, the humiliation. He thought he might feel somehow cleaned out if he faced pure strong-arm pain. He found himself perhaps actually craving it. He stood up straighter and picked up his pace.

When they arrived at the hold up circle tabular array in the last pool of light, a refined looking man in a case stood up. `` Ah, welcome, Mr. Faranger. '' Now, gentleman, '' he said, addressing the handler. Please disrobe him and I 'll explain what we 're about here. You can also unbind his arms. '' They did as requested. This meter, though, the blond caressed his genitals every so fleetingly when he reached the bottom and the men exchanged the faintest of smile. They then gave his sleeve a swift one cerebrovascular accident rub down and give Faranger standing before the moderator and the table of associates behind him.

'' We are the most scientific and practiced of the grouping in The association. We 've studied thrashing strategy, and we know what works and does n't. The goal is to bestow you to orgasm without resorting to any other method than pain sensation. We 're always successful. ''

He picked up a Spanish pointer, like a teacher might use to indicate mark on a blackboard. Instead he indicated spot on Faranger 's body. `` The boilers suit strategy is to forefend your genitals and rear until the very last. This focuses your attention. You 'll regain you 're craving pain sensation in those very region. We 're highly skilled at wielding the whips and we 'll set down very close, but never touching those areas. Indeed, when we aim here, '' he touched Faranger in his pubic fuzz, `` we 'll induce one of your supporter hold your erecting out of the way. By that time you 'll definitely have an erection, guaranteed. And here, '' he touched the joint where Faranger 's thigh met his trunk, `` they 'll halt your scrotum out of the way. So, this will be the chronological sequence. I expect you 're already feeling a warm tingling in those areas. Yes ? ``

'' We 'll bug out with the least erogenous region, your sura. '' He tapped Faranger 's calves with his pointer. `` Next we 'll lash your binding. In each area there will only be four strike, sometimes by one person, sometimes divided between two.

The heaviest party whip will be used on your vertebral column. Mr. Aiello is able to guide the lash down here, he stroked Faranger 's hip, but not touch your buttocks. '' Faranger cringed inwardly as the stroke of the pointer down his back created vivid images of whip strokes, but he also experienced an erotic spasm in his lower venter, which he was sure was apparent to the onlookers.

'' Then we move to your abdomen. '' He let the cursor drift down the gist. `` You might think that would be the penultimate erogenous geographical zone, but really, it 's here. '' He stroked Faranger 's inner thighs from torso to knee. `` You 'll see.

Next, we 'll torture your penis. We wo n't use an actual party whip. Instead we 'll use an instrument just for that purpose. '' He pointed at Faranger 's penis, but did n't touch it. `` By that time you will need this badly. You will be grateful for the pain in the ass.

Finally, we 'll use this pawn to whip your buttocks so hard that you will blurt. Guaranteed. Works every meter. '' He picked up an object from the table. It was a piece of fragile board, about 8 inches all-embracing and two fundament long with a handle at one end. On one slope of it another, even dilutant, panel was affixed with flexible joint. The moderator slammed the board onto the table making a wonderful sound that was followed almost simultaneously by the sound of the second board slamming home. `` We do n't like to call this a paddle, too juvenile. This is an instrument of torture, pure and simple, particularly in the hands of Mr. Mangu over there. '' He pointed to a vauntingly man whose muscles were clearly defined under the island of Jersey under his mutation coat. `` This will certainly leave you seriously bruised, but, as we promise in our marketing, no permanent wave injury. ``

By this time Faranger was not for certain at all that the punishment station was a estimable thought. But there was nothing for it but to hang in there.

'' Now, just a word about the combat injury our lash inflict. '' He picked up a whip with dozens of leather thongs, each tipped with a very belittled chromium steel steel egg. `` These little balls will bruise you. Sometimes they draw pedigree, but usually not, except for your rachis. That whip is a standard bull whip. The cagey thing about our weapon system and our education is that we can result you with rail line of bruises straight up and down your physical structure. Quite amazing, really. So, for instance, you 'll have a line from here to here. '' He drew his arrow from Faranger 's chest of drawers to his pubic hair, just to the left field of his left pap. `` And one from here to here. '' He traced a line of reasoning from Faranger 's throat, just to the left of his knocker bone down to a point just above and to the left of his penis. `` And two more lines on the other side. We 're very majestic of our technique. '' He smiled in a self satisfied way.

'' The design is very authoritative too. You see the thongs are spread out along a hybrid bar, kind of like a garden rake, but look. There 's just a very cold-shoulder divergence in the length. The outer thongs are longsighted than the middle one. This is so they make a straight person line of credit when they 're flung out. '' He smiled again with satisfaction.

'' OK. Would you get the whips and things over there on that table, and distribute them to the associates ? ``

Faranger was on the verge of feeling faint with care, but went to the tabular array that was indicated. All of the instrument except the wooden one were in a single pile. He picked it up and went back to the moderator 's side. `` Just pick out something. The right person will ask for it. '' Faranger grasped what looked like a whiplash for a horse. A sinewy man to his right leaned over and took it. Next was a shortsighted whip with dozens of thongs. It was the one the moderator had used in his talk. A middle aged woman reached for it. She was part of the couple who had been ahead of him at the adjustment desk. `` There 's another one in there. They come as a set. '' Faranger found it and handed it to her partner. He handed a similar couplet to another couple, a metal contraption that looked like a large tomentum crimper to a young womanhood '' Then he picked up the infamous wooden legal instrument and handed it to Mangu. Each time he handed over an tool he had looked the recipient in the eye, but this time, instead of feeling conquering, he had the gumption that he was a client handing out equipment for people to perform a servicing. And, as a matter of fact, that was exactly what the situation was.

'' Fine, fine. '' Said the moderator. Now we need to tie you in stead. Please footprint over here. '' He indicated a space lit up by a small spotlight. There were ankle watch bracelet chained to the base about 3 pes apart, and radiocarpal joint bracelets hanging from a bar attached to an arm attached to a heavy stand. The arm was long enough so that there was no impediment to accessing Faranger from any angle.

Faranger 's wrists were shackled and his arms spread out and raised. Like DaVinci 's man in a circle, he thought. This time his ankles were also chained. The moderator 's talk about genitalia and buttocks was already making him set out to feel full in just those berth, and nix had yet happened. He was glad his hired hand were shackled, in case he simply collapsed from fearfulness. The purity of pain ! he thought scornfully. talk through one's hat ! What could be more of a psychological secret plan than this business of focusing on something by not touching it. But he was helpless. It worked. He longed for someone to just slap his dick and his ass. tough !

The first associates to approach him were a untested match. Their whips had dozens of flip-flop, of slightly different lengths, attached the grip in a conventional mode. They took turns, each slamming his calves twice in turn. It hurt, certainly, but the moderator was right. Much of the aesthesis was arousal in his genitalia and buttocks.

Next came the man with the ponderous whip. As Faranger watched him he felt an recherche rush of fear unify with foreplay. The man went behind Faranger, just out of his field of sight. He waited for respective moments. Faranger tensed in anticipation, digging his fingers into his decoration. Finally a puff came, diagonally from articulatio humeri to hip. The tip of the whip snaked down his mighty incline, next to his buttock. But, of course, not touching it. The same affair happened from the early direction much straightaway than Faranger expected or could prepare for. His rear was already afire when the lash landed across his shoulder joint blade, and just below his waist. His whole back throbbed, as did the focal points, which had not yet been touched.

Then two adult female approached and positioned themselves on either incline of him. The blond handler came and gently held Faranger 's penis down as far as was possible. The touch sensation gave him no substitute. It only inflamed him. The char took it in spell to lay almost perfectly straightforward stripes down his torso. The second smasher caught in some pubic hairs. `` Oh, I 'm so sorry ! '' one of the char said, apparently with sincerity, as she pulled them out to unblock the lash. Faranger had posture enough to smile to himself through the pain at the irony of it.

The fourth multitude to conduct their turn were an honest-to-god couple, almost elderly. Their whips were poor and of the `` rake '' structure. The blond handler raised Faranger 's scrotum. Faranger gripped the chain holding his articulatio radiocarpea cuff. The match first whipped Faranger 's intimate thighs in the front, swinging from above his thigh. But for the second reversal, they came at him from behind and marked his inner thigh toward the rear. The moderator was right. This was even more painful and erotic than the blast on his trunk. It 's almost over. What will take place ? Will I occur through all this pain ?

Finally the avoidance scheme was over. The young woman with the alloy piston chamber approached him. It was hinged along one incline and lined with small node. She closed it around his member and began to draw the two sides together. She carefully watched Faranger 's face and his hard-on, extracting the most pain possible without causing it to collapse. He gritted his dentition and toss his question back, groaning, suppressing a cheap cry. When she removed the twist Faranger felt some relief, but still craved completion.

The man with the wooden paddle approached. He paused long enough to engage Faranger 's gaze, his own look expressionless. concern and expectation and sexual tension overwhelmed him, cringing and craving at the Sami fourth dimension. And then it came, a powerful C to his buttocks. Semen shot from his consistency. He cried out in pain and climax, a second time. A 3rd time. There was no fourth blow. Faranger was clearly finished. The man returned to the mesa and sat down.

Faranger panted for several moments and then gave a long sigh, grateful that the pain was finally sufficient to forgather his penury. He could pillow now.



residuum

And, indeed, relaxation came quickly. When the handlers arrived, Faranger was hanging by his carpus, so one held him up with an arm around his waist while the other unshackled him. The handlers did n't put on the arm restraints or the cape, nor did they let him sit down. Instead they brought his coat of arms across their shoulders and made their way directly to a cage in the crescent of the three post. It was about four substructure heights and set on a four metrical unit high base. A circle of lights was switched on around them. The John Milton Cage Jr. was large enough to comfortably lodge a man lying down on the fill out airfoil, with a lowly leather pillow, and there was more space between the pillow and the end of the Cage. `` The door will be locked until break of day, so, of course, you 'll have to spend the dark here, '' said the darker animal trainer. `` But it also prevents the spectators from touching you with anything but their hands. The sedative we 'll pass on you is stiff enough that you should be able to get a few hours of good sleep anyway. ''

There was a narrow down urinal attached to one outside street corner, appearing to be made of rose quartz."Go ahead,"said the blond manager."The dominion against touching yourself is over."

Faranger took advantage of the chance, reflecting on how the word"relieve"could be so especially appropriate in certain circumstances. He was aware that there were multitude in the surrounding darkness watching him. But it no longer mattered. He and the handler watched the stream swirl down the quartz glass and then Faranger lifted himself onto the floor of the cage and sat with his leg hanging over the edge. The dark one fetched a meth from a shelf on the end of the Cage. `` This drink has no input, '' he said. `` Instead it will unwind you and take into account you to sleep if you wish. '' Faranger drank it down. No bubble, just a assuasive herbal taste.

"Would you like me to contact you after you leave here ?"asked the blond. Faranger valued the memory of his irreverence, but ..."No, I think not. But thank you. give thanks you for everything."Both animal trainer nodded and said,"good-bye, sir."“ auf wiedersehen ”, said Faranger."He pulled his legs into the Cage and lay down on his abdomen, exhausted.

The gabardine gowned attendant arrived and climbed in, after setting down her silver tray in the space above the pillow. `` There 's some bleeding on your spinal column. This will sting a niggling, but it will stop the bleeding. '' It stung a lot - teeth detrition, but as the bunko faded so did the burn botheration. It felt wonderful. But even better was when she rubbed lotion into his buttocks with a house, kind, circular motion. He knew he was badly bruised. She applied cream from a tube to his anus and then proceeded to rub lotion onto the contusion along his thighs and calves. The ointment was assuredness and warm at the like sentence. Her hired hand were wonderfully gentle. The whipping was almost worth the joy of this treatment.

"Could you turn over, delight ? I'll do your front."Now I can see her, he thought. But she was sitting sideways with her head bent. Her hair prevented his getting a good look and he was too tired to make an effort to trance a better glimpse.

He spread his legs enough for her to reach the altogether length of the marks on his second joint. She applied the Same handling to his chest and peg, and as she worked her way down his body, he could only see her back. When she gently soothed his bruised penis he thought he would once again be dragged into stimulation, but the drink had done its job. There was only a svelte puffiness. He was on the sharpness of sleep. He luxuriated in surrendering himself to her aid. His dead body had been engulfed in stripes of painfulness since the whippings, but now he was only sore.

When she left he turned on his slope, rested his head in his left hand and pulled his top leg up. It 's how he usually went to sleep. The lights had dimmed considerably. He could n't see any spectator pump just before he closed his centre, but presently he felt bridge player on him here and there. He felt no angle of inclination to look to see who they were until mortal softly brushed his hair back from his forehead. He opened his eye a footling bit and looked into the face of the woman with the black glasses. That 's OK, was his last intellection before he fell asleep.



passion

Some hours later he surfaced from eternal rest to go aware of an arm across his dresser. He stirred just a piffling and realized that there was a dead body closelipped against his own. Female. The spark was very dim, but he could see clearly that it was the attendant, naked now, but more importantly, he could see her face ! It was n't a beautiful face. It was a wonderful face ! It 's woodworking plane and curves tugged on his memory. Its idiosyncrasy called to him. He leaned on his elbow and took it between his hands. Ah ! He had n't touched anything in time of day ! He was overwhelmed. She opened her eyes and put her arms around him. There was a interference in his breathing. Is this what the mean when they say your kernel turned over ?

She turned to her slope and he was certainly cognizant of her mildness pressed against the distance of him, but he could n't really turn his aid from her face. He kissed her eye and her buttock and her rima oris. A chaste, getting to recognise you kiss. He leaned back to see the whole of her face again. It was sufficient for now.

'' I 'm so beaming to see you, '' he said, a many layered comment.

'' And I you, '' she smiled.

'' What 's your name ? ``

'' Sandra. Sandra Fremont. ``

'' I guess you know mine. ``

'' Yes. Oh, yes. ``

She moved her arm up and down his back and kissed him. He took her grimace in his men and she returned the motion. They opened their back talk and their spit engaged in captivated exploration. His bridge player roved over her marvelously soft body. Her bosom filled them to overflowing. Ah ! it was so sound to have agency. To be able-bodied to induct activeness ! And what action ! He buried his face between her white meat. He kissed his way down to her sex and found her swollen and wet.

Of course he had an erection by now, but it was not the turgid, throbbing organ of over stimulation. It was the wholly adequate means of joining with another person. He slid the tip slowly between her sheepcote, over her swell clitoris. Her welcoming vagina seemed to palaver him inside. After his coming he rested on his arms in the quiet to hear her soft stochasticity and experience the Wave inside her embracing him. They lay together with his head on one bosom and his hired hand on the early. She nestled her cheek against his brow and held him in her arms.

Some time later Faranger awoke and found their positions reversed. She was sleeping with her head on his shoulder. Her hairsbreadth fell across her nerve so he could hardly see her nerve. It was a characterization of her that he treasured, but he gently drew her whisker back anyway He watched her fondly until her centre opened. `` Look at you ! '' he said endearingly.

'' Look at you, '' she corrected sleepily.

They turned toward one another and wrapped their weapons system around each former. `` I ca n't consider this, '' said Faranger, his face buried between her neck and shoulder.

'' Believe it. I believe everyone has left. arrive with me. We can take a shower. Our dress and affair are waiting for us. ``

They held hands as they headed into the dark edge of the residence. The changing room was a spiritualist sized, brightly lit space. Their dress were hanging in a low alcove. They stepped into the exhibitor and soaped each other, and kissed each other, and hugged each other. And then they slowly dried each former with the big fluffy towels that were at hand.



sprightliness

"Ahhh, that feels so unspoiled !"said Faranger as he pulled his cubbyhole Boxer briefs up to his waist.

"Yes,"said Sandra, executing the last wiggle to get her sheer tights in place."There's a rattling security system about clothing."

'' Do you get to be somewhere ? '' he asked. `` Do you stimulate time for breakfast ? ``

'' A short-circuit one. Coffee shop class ? I have a meeting at nine. ``

'' Where do you crop ? ``

'' I 'm a financial analyst at Grimsby Nathaniel Hawthorne. ``

'' No ! Me too ! Well, not at Grimsby Hawthorne. I actually own my own belittled investment firm. But it 's overnice to know we can sing about our study. Do n't you remember ? ``

'' Yeah, I think, '' she said with a smile that almost wrinkled her nose. `` Can I tie your tie for you ? I love tying men 's ties. '' She stood in front of him and tied the tie. When she was done she ran her hands down his frizzly White shirt front. When she reached his belt she slid them around behind and down and pulled their bodies together. They embraced and kissed for a yearn time.

They exited the edifice to observe a resplendent bound day. Faranger thought that the farewell must be just a petty self-aggrandising than they were yesterday, but he could n't tell. They took hands and headed down the street, grinning at each other every now and then like children playing truancy. They went into a deep brown shop on the corner across from the park. Faranger went to the counter to get their crescent roll and coffee, and when he sat down again he said, `` So ... was the whole night part of your contract ? ``

'' No, not at all. I just wanted to be with you so badly ! My contract only required that I stay the dark so I could record you the changing room and put away the door on the way out. ``

'' Ah ... ah.. This is just ... ''

'' Yes, is n't it. '' Smile.

'' Would you like to have dinner tonight ? ``

'' Oh, for sure as shooting ! We have to. ``

'' At Chez Donald ? At 6 for deglutition ? I think it 's about half way between where we work. ``

'' That sounds just right. ``

They ate for a while, looking up from their food repeatedly, to savor the condition. Finally Faranger said, `` Well, I guess it 's time to start the day. I have to go say 'Hi'to Stephanie and Pederson. '' Sandra put her hand over his, with a consoling look. They went out of the coffee shop, shared a gentle buss and headed off in paired directions.

Faranger walked up the street along the park, and when he entered the construction and walked up to Stephanie's desk, he was sorry for her obvious fright. Her eyes uncontrollably went to the matt movement of his pants. He smiled."Stephanie, I wanted to give thanks you for your help survive night. And to evidence you that affair will be normal. You don't need to worry about any repercussions."She nodded, still wordless. He knew he was doing her a party favour by leaving right-hand away.

He went up the stairs at a time and headed straight for Pederson's desk. Pederson was always there early. Pederson wasn't overtly frightened, but he looked at Faranger with concern."Hi, Ralph."( He'd looked up the first epithet on his phone. )"Thanks for your help last dark. You were brilliant,"he said with an wry smile."No motivation to worry about any repercussions."Pederson nodded tentatively.

On the way to his role, Faranger savored the thought that whenever he was near Pederson or Stephanie he could have a bun in the oven a tingle of recollection of his dark at Twelve Maxbridge Street.

At five o'clock he got out the business circuit card that Sandra had given him and dialed her work routine. `` I ca n't wait till six. Can you get away now ? ``

'' Yes, I can. I 'll see you at the eatery in 10 bit ? ``

'' See you then. ``

When they saw each other they embraced eagerly. `` I 'm so happy to see you ! ``

'' Me too ! ``

They took a small tabular array in the bar, ordered drinks and started nibbling peanuts.

"So, we know what I was doing there last Night, said Faranger. `` How did you issue forth to be there ?"

"Once or twice a year I sign up to be a sex slave for a weekend. This time they gave me to The connection for the dark. Yes, I guess I know why you were there. But how did you bump out about it ?"

"I called a headphone figure I found in a cryptic ad in a magazine. I asked them to send me entropy. This is what they sent me."He leaned over and picked up his briefcase. He set it on his lap and opened it just a footling way. He drew out an envelope and pulled out a stiff card bordered in black. It was about three column inch by eight inch. In graceful printing it said :

The Association

We can provide a night of

botheration and sexual abasement

$ 3000

Confidentiality is guaranteed.

There will be no permanent wave injury, picture taking or film.

song 1-617-555-5555 for an appointment.

He smiled at her."So I signed up."

She said,"Do you think you'll ever do anything like this again ?"

"I don't know. It's too soon. Right now I have no inclination, and I have a hard time imagining that anything would n't be an anti-climax. Sic, '' he added, with a nod to the two-fold meaning. `` Certainly I do n't give any former people in my life like Pederson and Stephanie. '' His smile turned wry.

'' And you ? Will you remain your weekends ?"

"Probably. But maybe not. We'll see."She smiled back.

He put his hired man over hers. `` Did you see everything ? ``

Softly, `` Yes. I saw everything. '' She placed her early hand over his.

He picked it up and kissed the spine of it. `` I think I 'm glad. ``

Dinner was delicious. It fit with the deliciousness of the hale evening. They dived into getting to recognize each other. `` Well, I 'm relieved that we agree on government, '' she said. `` I ca n't imagine how duet like James I Carville and Virgin Mary Matalin do it. Do you opine they debate every evening over supper ? Or d'you think that they long ago agreed just not to talk politics ? What DO they talk about ? political science are their lives. ``

'' Dunno. It 's a closed book. ``

When they 'd eat up to the highest degree of their dinner Sandra said, `` Why do n't you come and pass the dark at my house ? The stores are still open. We can get you a wise shirt and tie and run your underwear through the wash. ''

Faranger laughed a picayune bit. `` I do n't think I 'll be up for anything for a patch. ``

'' Of row not, silly. Who knows sound than I do that you need to recover. But would n't it be skillful just to retain each other for a long clip ? ``

'' Yes, it would be very, very nice. Let 's go get me a shirt and tie. ``

*****

'' I can get unspoiled fundament to the Celtic language tonight, '' said John. `` Do you like basketball game ? ``

'' Well, sure. I ca n't say I 'm educated about it, but it goes fast. And I really do opt those uniforms to football and hockey, '' she said grinning.

'' It 's my chief sport. I like football on TV, '' but that 's about it.

'' I like the food and company around football game. But I only really watch when there 's about to be a touchdown. ``

'' Well, respectable. I 'll get the tickets.

*****

'' I found a mantle Verdean restaurant. Want to try it tonight ? '' he asked one morning over breakfast.

'' for sure ! I like trying out new kinds of restaurants. I 've always wanted to try Ethiopian, for representative. ``

'' I know of one. If you like that form of thing we could fix it a sort of ritual to try a dissimilar ethnic restaurant every week or so until we 've exhausted what Beantown has to pop the question. Wan na ? ``

'' Yeah ! That 's a neat idea. Where is mantle Verde anyway ? ``

'' I used to cerebrate it was in the Caribbean Sea, but it 's in Africa. ``

*****

'' No !, '' he snorted. `` No way am I taking a walk in the pelting when it 's 45 degrees out. I would n't take a walk in the rainfall if it were 75 degree out. Do n't you have a girlfriend who likes that form of amentia ? ``

'' Yeah, I do. I 'll call her. I guess I ought to stoke my friendships. I 've been neglecting people. ``

*****

They had established that they had unlike gustatory modality in pop music, but they had already mutually enjoyed the symphonic music and a sleeping room music concert when she asked `` Do you like jazz ? ``

'' Well, I do n't really recognize much about it. But one of my fondest memories, is when I was in college and take heed a jazz trio at the Carlyle in Manhattan. I do n't screw if the euphony made it so special or just the ambience. ``

'' well, let 's see if you do like it. There 's a great, small jazz nine I 'd care us to go to. ``

'' You 're on. ``

*****

'' So how about we do n't do anything special tonight ? '' she said. `` We can have soup and a sandwich at my space and read and then look on some movie in bed. ``

'' Do you stimulate tomato soup ? And cheese for grilled cheese ? ``

'' I do. But you do n't have a book. ``

'' Yes, I do. I 've got one book at my place and a different one at yours. I read them concurrently. ``

'' Then we have a plan. We 'll walk, OK ? ``

'' Sounds perfective to me. ``

THE END