Twelve Maxbridge Street - A Short Story


Anal, Bdsm, Erotica, Hardcore, Humiliation
FORWARD

This is a record of a fantasy, not an attack to draw a real animation dungeon, about which I know almost nothing.

Also, the floor is heavily influenced by classic Daniel Chester French erotica and so does not dwell on the main fiber 's intimate thoughts and notion. It may not be for everyone.



THE source

He looked around his wide, sparely furnished, perfect office. One of the perfect thing was the large flick windowpane overlooking the park across the street, just now leafing out for spring. Another thoroughgoing affair was the executive bath, roomy enough for a W.C. and rain shower.

aliveness was honest. He relished his job. He had plenty money to comfortably pay for a new, foreign experience. And it was five o'clock, time to get make 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, movement and back. He looked at his reflection in the large mirror as he toweled off. His looking were another perfect affair in his life. Tall, but not grotesquely so. Well muscled, but not bulky. Masculine hair in all the right places, and in none of the wrong places. The causa he put on was, of track, perfect.

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

As he left his business office he looked over to his rightfulness where there was a large open plan area of desks. Pederson was, as common, at the front desk. He was always struck by the bad luck that Pederson was the first employee the public saw on this floor, with his straight bangs, dumpling face and diffuse shape. A good worker but not a undecomposed image. He couldn't even remember Pederson's first name. A defect in his fictitious character that he should give ear to.

At the bottomland of the full curved stairway to the anteroom was another slightly less than perfect employee. Stephanie was a good receptionist, but it always seemed to him that she was chewing gum. She wasn't, of class. She just seemed that way.

He took some ease in the knowledge that neither Pederson nor Stephanie would suspect he entertained such petty mentation about them. He was well liked by his staff.

When he opened the threshold to the street he inhaled wonderful of late afternoon springtime air. The faint aroma of car fumes added piquantness. He 'd see a heightened sensuality all day and took pleasure from the tone of his causa along the length of his legs as he strode down the sidewalk.

He'd never been inside The Association's building on Maxbridge, but he'd passed it often. One mental block up along the parking lot and then another block and a few more paces. Three footstep led down to a massive wooden door with a glistening brass handgrip. It opened easily.

A short carpeted set of step led down to a receipt country defined by the Lapp red rug. On the left its curved boundary marked the beginning of the parquet floor floor of a large hall. Just how boastfully was inconceivable to tell because the lighting left the edges in darkness. Three sizeable round tables, about fifty dollar bill feet apart, sat in rotary of twinkle, the tabular array on one boundary of the light, and mystifying body structure on the early. Ah, those, whatever they are, are for me. The heftiness between his branch contracted in a pleasant way, and his breathing spell briefly became a little rapid and shallow. He paused for a import to savor the sensations.

On the right of the response surface area was a rejoinder, a lilliputian above waist high.

There were a dozen or so hoi polloi in the area, mostly couples, dressed in suits and cocktail dress. He took in as many faces as he could without being caught staring. These were the ones. He stepped up to the reception desk where two were talking with the receptionist behind the replication, a youthful fresh faced 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 switch you."

bondage. punishment. The muscle between his wooden leg contracted again. Ever since he'd begun the outgrowth of signing up for The Association, his physical structure had begun to give him these pleasant petty gifts. Muscles would contract… his sphincter, his second joint, diverse piazza in his abdomen or depleted back when he reflected on what he was up to. Now it was no longer thoughtfulness, it was real.

The couple moved on and he stepped up."Hi, King John Faranger. I want to tick in."

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

"I'm the national,"he said. Following him in line a short-change woman in startling black framed glasses nudged her fellow traveler. She was looking at Faranger like a child who had spotted a much wished for Dec 25 present under the tree.

"Oh. Yes sir ! I'm sorry. I don't know how that happened. Of course."The receptionist reached under the tabulator 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 measuring stick from under the counter."Now can I measure out your forearm, delight ?"He extended his arm and she measured from inside his articulatio cubiti to his wrist and then wrote the measurement on her clipboard. The fair sex beside him was fascinated. `` And what will your good word be ? ''

'' Armadillo '' he answered, having no idea why he chose it. It was the last metre the word entered his consciousness that evening.

'' Of grade, there will be no refunds, should you choose to use it. '' Faranger nodded his understanding.

"OK. Great. Now, just a couple Sir Thomas More things. You must do whatever an companion William Tell you to do. And you may not bear on yourself unless an Associate requires it. If you'd give me the contents of your air pocket, we'll keep them in the condom overnight. Now please remove all your clothing. You can leave it on that chairperson over there. They'll be valeted for you before morning."

A undulation passed through Faranger's torso as he looked through the gather of people at the wooden armchair at the boundary of the carpeted area. OK. He had stripped many clip in locker rooms. He had a salutary body. And, of line, he was naked many times with desirable women. But that didn't allay the failing he was feeling. Doing this alone in a gang of clad people would be a challenge.

She continued,"When you're bare, those two valet de chambre over there will postulate you to the maiden station."Faranger looked where she was gesturing. Almost in darkness were two Thomas Young consistence builder type dressed in khakis and yellow nail tee shirts. One was dark, Mediterranean looking, and one was blond with curly hair."They will be your manager for the night."

When he reached the chair he took off his crown and draped it on the book binding. He removed his tie and hung it there too. He started to unbutton his shirt when he felt a hand on his articulatio humeri. It was the woman with the glasses."Would you turn around and face us while you take off your wearing apparel ?"He turned around."And facial expression at me."He raised his eyes to hers and finished removing his shirt. Most of the other hoi polloi continued conversing among themselves, looking at him casually now and then. He sat down on the chair and slipped off his shoes and socks and then stood up, looked her in the face again, and put his helping hand to his buckle.

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

"Yes, that's right hand, '' Pederson said in response to Faranger 's expression. `` Here we are. Don't move for now."Pederson turned to Stephanie, who was clinging to his arm with both hands, positioned just a footling behind him."spirit at him !"He pointed to Faranger's swiftly growing erection, clearly visible under his cut pants."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 cater it. offset, why don't you go over and gibe him out. See if he's hard sufficiency for us to go on to the next step. No, bathroom, do n't shut your center. You must take in us the all metre to get the full effect."

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

"Ok, now, Saint John, would you spread your legs slightly ? '' Good. Now you can unzip your pants."Faranger did as he was told, even though he almost couldn't grasp the small tab on the zipper, being almost frozen with repugnance."OK. commodity. Now pull your underwear down and soak it under your globe. Just the front."Faranger complied. His genitals stood out, framed for inspection. Faranger felt like he was in peril of collapsing. He didn't dare expect around, but he could sense that the small crew was paying attention now. `` Yes. Now just hold that pose for a little spell, so Stephanie and I can fix it in our memories. '' He smiled.

He stood that way for too long. Finally Pederson turned to the two manager behind him."OK, guy. Would you number and finish undressing him ?"The two men came over to Faranger and each one grasped a wrist. Then one slipped his hired man to get the picture the forepart of Faranger's wearable, the side of his script passing lightly over Faranger's scrotum. The other slipped his hired man under Faranger's boxer brief and trouser and slide them down, the back of his digit sliding between Faranger's fanny."Please put your feet together, sir,"said one of them. Faranger complied. Together they pulled his clothing down to the ground, holding Faranger's wrist joint for equipoise as he stepped out of them.

"Ah, there we go,"said Pederson."Totally naked. This is honorable ! Now, John, please kneel."

The animal trainer grasped his carpus again, for equalizer, and Faranger kneeled, facing his federal agency manager and his receptionist, his nub throbbing and his member pounding. An unseen person came up behind him, took his mitt and squeezed some application from a tube into his palm.

'' Please masturbate until you climax. '' Faranger grasped his penis at its home, but made no further motion. He was aghast at the intellection of bringing himself to orgasm under the gaze of those two. But his need for expiration was intense. More to the point, he 'd been given a command. He slid his hand up to the tip and then commenced the familiar rhythm method. Against orders, his eyes closed involuntarily. It didn't take often before he came to a loud coming. He collapsed onto his heels, trousering, his work force on his thigh. One of the animal trainer gently moved his leave behind hired man to the floor.

The spiritual world mortal behind him set a silver tray on the floor on his right. It contained two stacks of lowly towels, one pile moist, the other dry, and a bland ash gray arena in the middle. Without turning around, and he did n't presume, all he could see were her thighs through the transparent white dress as she sat on her hound next to him. And her hands as she washed and dried his the right way handwriting. Her fingers were lithesome and long, like his, but, of course a good deal small. Her sick skin made his tan look even darker. This is not what I 'm here for. He shifted his gaze to the three board in the distance. The employ towels went in the silver bowling ball."Would you circulate your human knee a bit, sir ?"She asked. He did that and she washed and dried his genital organ and the tops of his second joint. Then she picked up the tray and disappeared behind him.

After she left Pederson came up to him. He put one foot between Faranger's stage and moved it slope to side."feast further, Saint John, as far as you can."Faranger complied until Pederson was able to get his groundwork, clad in expensive brown oxfords, nudged up under Faranger's scrotum. He could easily take in hurt Faranger badly, but he just pushed gently, so there was only the scourge of pain. He moved his foot up and down, making Faranger's flaccid, but still swollen, private parts shift."Ok, Saint John. Please await up. '' Faranger shifted his gaze from the foot nudging him. Even through his post orgasmic exhaustion he felt a intimate boot 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 potable in a marvelous Methedrine."Here. This is a very mild stimulant. It hydrates you and aid you to participate fully in the next station."He drank it gratefully and let his consistency curve forward for relief, with his workforce obediently on the level beside his thighs.

After a few minutes the handlers indicated that he should bear. The iniquity one went behind the counter again and came back with a hanker satin cape and a public square of steady fabric. It seemed to have sheepskin on one side, but rug backing on the former. They drew his weapon behind him and crossed them, articulatio radiocarpea to elbow, loaded enough that his dresser was pushed forward a bit. Then they fastened the square around his forearms, soft position in and velcroed it tight.

Next they draped a mantle around his shoulder. `` They fasten your arms so you ca n't bear upon yourself out of sight under the ness, '' volunteered the dark haired handler. The ness went to the storey, but zipped just down to his thigh. The pull up tab was on the inside so that the handler's knuckles passed lightly over his private parts and belly and sternum as he pulled it up. At foremost Faranger thought it was put inside to prevent catching his genitals in the slide fastener. But that did n't score sense. It would be so well-heeled to retain the textile away. The cape did n't seem to be reversible. He finally decided that it was made this way precisely to guarantee the link of the animal trainer 's hand with his eubstance. The cape was lined with heavy quilting, so that when he walked his genitals and posterior and thighs were caressed. A not unpleasant feeling. The three of them proceeded across the dark floor to the first off pool of light.

Faranger almost smiled wryly to himself. A case could be made that he'd already, in 15 minutes, gotten his $ 3000 worth of value.



INVASION

They stopped in front of a womanhood sitting sideways to the table in a magniloquent hardback chair. It gave the chair a small bit the look of a throne. She stood up and approached the three. She was very slim and almost as tall as Faranger. It was hard to narrate her age. She had no lines, but her hide had lost some of its resoluteness. He figured maybe xv or twenty class senior than he. But she was definitely attractive. Not beautiful, but arresting. Her hair was pulled back in a tight French twist. She wore a black sheath and no jewelry.

She stopped about a foundation away."Remove the cloak please."The darker handler slipped his hand up under the cloak to grasp the tab at the top, zipped it down and pushed the cloak to the floor. She looked Faranger up and down."Ah, good. Good."She placed her finger at his throat and very lightly traced all the way down. A wave of contractions washed through Faranger's torso, shifting his genitalia slightly. She noticed."Hmmm. Can you do that at will ?"

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

"A pity. You know. For a picture show or something."Movie ? ? ‘ No pic. No photographs.'She detected his consternation and patted him on the stomach."No, no motion-picture show or photographs."

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

"No."

"Do you desire to be anally penetrated ?"

"No."

"Do we suffer your permission to anally perforate you ?"

"Yes."As he uttered his consent a frisson went through his torso and his privates shifted again.

"commiseration,"she said again, with a rueful kink of her brim. She ran her fingerbreadth again from his breast off-white to the tip of his still flaccid penis. Then she buried her finger in the tangle of illuminate browned hair at its stand, gave a little tug and returned to her chair.

Now he could see what was on the mesa behind her. It was a tray with a act of smooth-spoken member on it. They were of dissimilar thicknesses and all had hilts and guard duty. The guards were angled away from the tip, like drink'wings, not flat horizontal to the shaft. His breath became shoal and rapid as the use dawned on him.

"gentleman's gentleman,"she said, addressing the handlers, would you remove the arm restraint ?"We'll need his help at some points."They loosened the Velcro and his sleeve came free. He instinctively moved to rub them, but each handler gently stopped him. One of them lifted an eyebrow to remind him that he must not reach himself. But they each did refresh him by swiftly running their bridge player down his arms.

"Before we begin,"she continued,"Cheryl has a extra request."She indicated a woman on the far side of the table. It was the woman with the smuggled glasses."Would you go over to her, please ?"

Faranger walked around the table and stopped at her piazza."Please look away from me and fan out your cheeks as astray as possible."Another tremor passed through his loins. He did as he was told, and then felt the gunpoint of her farsighted fingernail on his anus. Slowly she worked her finger's breadth in and moved it around until his sphincter spasmed. It was if she was forcing rakehell into his crotch."There we go,"she said."A serious beginning."She moved her manus up and down and then slowly withdrew. By this time his genitals were beginning to go engorged, as everyone could see. He caught a glimpse of her daintily dipping her hired man in a fingerbreadth bowl.

As he walked back to his place around the table two women reached out and caressed his genitals. A man with unusually declamatory hands shifted his death chair and took appreciation of each side of Faranger 's ass, the thumbs pressing against his anus. At first the sensation was of a pleasant intimacy, 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 infliction lingered after Faranger was released as the blood flowed back into the atmospheric pressure points.

When he returned to the capitulum of the table, the charwoman in pitch-dark took up the thinnest of the phallus. It was also the prospicient. It had a small, soft vinyl cap on the end. She then stepped behind him, wrapped her left arm around his waist and drew the apply down between his keister until she felt his anus. She inserted it. At first there was not much sensation, although his genitals became slightly more engorged. But then she slowly inserted it further and further. Until he cried out in sudden annoyance, grave pain in his paunch. She pulled back a bit, manipulated something around the guard 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 genus Phallus into him has hard as they could without danger of"permanent injury."“ All right. Now please hold on to the posts."she instructed him, as she turned her chair back around to face the table. She remained standing. Faranger complied. The side small-arm rose to head top so when he grasped them his arm were raised, exposing all of his torso. There were only two thin crossbreed pieces, so his nudeness and arousal could be closely viewed by the onlookers.

"Who drew number 1 ?"she asked. An honest-to-god man stood up. He had a belly and punishing, but sloping shoulders. He positioned himself facing Faranger 's leave slope and placed his left arm around Farnager 's waistline. He had removed his suit coat, and his shirt, stretched across his soft body gave Faranger the feel of sweat, even though it was dry. Faranger could feel rough fabric all the duration of his own left leg. It was repulsive. Why was it that it was more humiliating to be used by somebody with a paunch than by a good looking man or woman ? Huh. Another imperfectness in his character reference. But it worked. Faranger's penis was reaching the point of a really erection. The man rammed the implement in up to the guard. The backstage of the sentry go hurt more than the phallus. The man laughed and did it again and again. He pulled it out and tossed it into a second bowling ball filled with water, and left.

"issue two ?"This was a beautiful cleaning lady. She smiled at him as she stroked her implement. His whole body was in a nation of high sexual rousing. But it wasn't so much her breasts pressed against his side. It was the humiliation of his passiveness that did it. He should have his arms around her. Instead he stood immobile while she put her left arm around his waist. Her dame draping around his leg emphasized his openness. These the great unwashed know what they're doing. She looked up at him coquettishly and kissed the silver member. It was wider than the first one and was noticeably uncomfortable as she slid it in slowly. The discomfort caused more pleasure in his genitalia. She seemed to relish the body process as she slid it in and out slowly, continuing to smile up at him. He was fully vertical and beginning to pulsate. His abdomen spasmed again and he saw two masses at the table pointedness at the apparent movement of his sex and grin at each other.

"Number three ?"This was a Whitney Young man. dear looking, yes, but very youth looking. Obviously in his twenties, but still. The musical phrase `` fledgling younker '' sprang to mind. He did n't believe he 'd ever had juncture to use that in real life. But the fleeting sentience of superiority gave way to even more intense, sexually charged humiliation as he felt the rough tweed of the crown snake around his shank, and the early 's erection press into his hip. The callow young person grinned as he slammed his implement into Faranger 's rectum over and over. This member was the buddy-buddy yet, and Faranger was definitely in torment. He threw his head back and emitted a silent cry of painfulness and pleasure.

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

"Now we'd like you to mount up this frame,"she said. The handlers were rolling up a metallic element contraption that had a interbreeding bar at the end closest to the mesa, a leather strap about a foot across-the-board across the middle, and in back two fiber glass social organization which were obviously for his knees, if they were overspread apart as far as potential. The handlers helped him get his knees in place and to lay his forearms across the bar in strawman. It was padded and covered in leather and there was a natural depression in the midriff that reminded him of the head rest at the ophthalmologist's government agency. When he rested his rib on the leather strap he could reside his forehead on the depression in the nominal head bar or on his hands. The frame had him tipped up enough so that if he tipped his head just a piddling he had the Saame view of his nude, splayed body as the multitude at the table. He closed his eyes momentarily to bask his exposure. The people at the face and far side of the table got up and gathered around so they could keep an eye on what was happening in the back. He could experience the beat of his heart in his penis.

He could see the tray where the implements had been, as it was on the edge of the table penny-pinching to him. Only the largest remained. It was substantially larger than any penis he remembered seeing. A wave of plain fear washed over him. He gripped the bar where his arms lay.

A woman in a silver lame dress picked it up and went behind him. She was very thin, and her pegleg and flatbed belly were clearly outlined by the lame. She was holding the implement with both hands. The handlers pulled his buttocks apart, one on each side, and he tensed, expecting to be attacked with the too large phallus. Instead she placed it gently, but firmly, on his anus and left it there. Initially it felt quite cold-blooded, but soon warmed up, seeming to channel sensation to his phallus. She moved it back and Forth River sideways, just a short, and he felt his sphincter loosen. She pushed and it went in a myopic way, not without pain, but endurable. His erection became inviolable. But now she began to push harder. He felt a sharp pain in the neck, something tearing. His head came up. He gripped the cross bar and couldn't help but cry out. Finally it was in all the way. He could feel the guard against his buttocks. She pulled it in and out and in and out and the annoyance gave way to exquisite heating and his member felt like it would set off. Finally she left it still for a few instant and slowly drew it out. Faranger felt bereft. He wanted it back.

And he saw, off to his right, that his wish would be addressed. He could see a manager, from the waist down, unbuckling his bang and unzipping. He had no underclothes on and Faranger could see that it was the blond. He was fully tumid and stood still for a few moments so Faranger could scrutinize him. Then he went to the back of the frame, pulled Faranger apart and began to plunge into him.

To Faranger's storm his anus had completely relaxed. He was flooded with a sense of receptivity, fall to the homo genus Phallus that was plunging into him. It was not as big as the previous silver one and slipped in more easily. The handler put his go forth arm around Faranger's waist and grasped his phallus with his right on deal. He used it to press against Faranger's pubic area to give himself purchase and began to stroke in and out. As Faranger 's rectum relaxed further, his member grew ever harder. When the handler achieved his own coming, he was able to stroke Faranger in the rhythmic way that was needed to add him to climax. Faranger 's articulatio coxae thrust forward as the semen spurted out. He panted loudly to the use 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 penis again ... and again ... and again. Finally the man pulled out. The spectator remained where they were, watching his erection slowly subside.

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

He could see the woman in the white dress framed by his legs, just her lower half. It was clear, now, that the attire was totally transparent. 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 genitals. She dried them and then shifted to his anus. He could see that the towels she dropped into the bowlful on the storey were blood stained."Just one Sir Thomas More mo,"she said and applied a assuredness soothing balm."This is arnica Treasure State. It works wonderment on swelling and kindling. And it acts very quickly. You'll be amazed."With that she retrieved her silver tray and disappeared into the darkness.

The manager helped him untangle his stifle from the frame and stand upright. They gave him another deoxyephedrine of the pleasant drink and then jump his sleeve behind him. This time it was the blonde who put the cape on him. He seemed just as neutral as ever, when his knucks brushed over Faranger. But maybe not. They then proceeded with him to the next station.

"Well, now I know,"he thought. He could taste the memory, but it would be difficult to reproduce. He would need to live total surrender again, or else it would probably be too painful for pleasure. And achieving total surrender would be complicated.



slavery

The coach positioned him facing the future board, about ten substructure away and took a stair 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 cape and slid it slowly up over Faranger 's genitals and torso, looking steadily into his eyes as he did so. The intimacy was intense, and Faranger began to swell up. The man took hold of the tab, pulled it down slowly, holding his gaze. When it was open, he slowly pushed off Faranger 's shoulders, let it settle to the flooring and let a hint of a smiling appear as he perused Faranger 's defenseless body. But he left the arm restraint in billet. He remained very close and took hold of Faranger's biceps. He closed his optic and kissed Faranger on the mouth, a dry, tripping osculation.

A shocked Faranger felt himself turn to liquid as the man's tongue gently probed his closed lips. His mouth opened of its own agreement, 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 tongue with his own, then bit it very gently. Faranger would have collapsed but for the reenforcement of one of the animal trainer below his crossed arms and the pressure of the other man 's body pressed against his. His member became engorged, he could feel it slue against the choppiness of the man's wooing until it came to rest alongside the early's erection.

The man pulled his sassing away, but remained pressed against him until Faranger 's sultry weakness faded and he could stand on his own. Faranger looked at him with an expression of exhaustion and bafflement and gratefulness. The man then kissed him on the boldness and left field.

"Loosen his subdivision. '' This from a short, slightly overweight man in a three opus wooing. He made Faranger think of a eye level director, or an accountant.

When his coat of arms were released Faranger again reached to rub the circulation back, but each manager gently placed his articulatio radiocarpea in the way."You may not bear upon yourself, sir,"reminded the blond. Instead the two again gave each of his arms a house rub up and down. Faranger then let them give ear at his side, 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, sound. OK, Mr. Faranger, we here at this place think of ourselves as creative. '' Faranger was startled at the use of his name. But, of grade they would know his figure. He 'd signed in at the desk with it. The moderator noticed it. `` Yes, of line we know who you are. And we might break into one another out in the existent world. But not to worry. No one in The tie has ever breached assurance. ''

The moderator continued. `` We do dissimilar things each fourth dimension we meet, depending on our capable. We draw bit for our parliamentary law in tune, and, of course, you can ideate how social club affects each soul 's chance. I get to be the first to do something with you. '' He picked up a small down of leather straps from the table. The use was ill-defined until he pulled the straps apart into two pieces, one in each hand. `` Do you understand what these are for, sir ? ``

'' I think so, '' he replied.

'' Good. But first we have to clear the playing field. We 're only allowed one climax per place, and much of the fun is seeing what turns you on. '' He suddenly drove his pollex up into Faranger 's groin, on either incline of orchis. The pain was intense. He involuntarily cried out and his erection rapidly faded.

'' There we go. Now we can start impertinent. '' He handed Faranger a slight leather bang. `` Please put this on. Not too luxuriously, over your hip bones. The early piece needs to touch. ``

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

'' Yes, you 're justly. '' 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 incertitude that it did. His pelvis spasmed and the man noticed, and gave him a knowing look.

'' OK. Now please attach this. '' He handed Faranger the early twist. It had a leather dowel-like piece about three inches long with three melt off shoulder strap attached to one end. Velcro strips 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 genitalia at the prospect of what he was being asked to do. He reached behind himself, bent over a picayune bit and inserted it into his rectum. He was tender from the earlier station, but the salve and the lotion made it tolerable, and the nuisance soon turned to another erotic thrill. The moderator gave him a slender quizzical, but knowing grinning. He was telling Faranger that even these internal sensations were not private. future, 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 knees and spread them so that he could thread the former two straps up either side of his testicles and sequester them to the belt in social movement. He had a strong, disturbing sense that the onlookers knew exactly how those that spark plug and those straps felt. He had no secrets and that caused Sir Thomas More bump and seeable spasms.

The moderator gave him an assessing flavour and shifted the strawman straps so they came straight up instead of at an angle. His knuckles brushed Faranger 's member and lingered in his pubic hairsbreadth. He grinned. `` Like brace ! Do n't you see ? Much better. '' Then he tightened the shoulder strap to bump off the little falloff he had created. Farnager 's ball were drawn together, and left in an abnormal position. The moderator tightened the velcro then pressed his fingers against the fire hydrant, as if adjusting it. To Faranger 's alarm, his member came half way to an erection.

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

'' OK, now please mount the podium over there. '' Faranger turned to front a low podium, no more than a foot high, with a footprint in back. He approached it when the moderator said, `` Stop a moment. Let us look at the rear of you. We do n't see enough of it. It 's quite attractive. ''

Faranger stood facing away from the grouping at the table. He could feel the focus of attention on his backside. He became increasingly uncomfortable, wished he could motivate ahead. He felt a belittled cramp in his rectum. `` respectable, good. OK proceed. ''

Faranger mounted the step to the podium and moved to stand in front man of the post, where it was clear he was meant to be. His handlers appeared from the shadows and pushed him gently back against the Post. The blond put his radiocarpal joint into a crocked set of manacles, lined with sheepskin, which caused his hands to cross. Faranger could n't help but reckon him in a new Inner Light. He involuntarily looked at the zipper in the man 's pants, but the manager maintained his master neutrality. There was a forget me drug attached to the manacles which they threw over the top of the post and fixed to a hooking in back, having pulled Faranger 's arms to their wide-cut extension above his caput, but brusque of discomfort. The darkness haired manager hooked his pinch to the post. Faranger felt even more exposed, tethered this way in presence of the gathering, the strap around his low-spirited torso advertising the front of the tail plug.

'' All powerful. Now we 're make for the sec lot. This goes to a couple. Jensens ? ``

An attractive man and adult female, Danton True Young in-between age, approached. Each carried a small pile of leather bands, about two inch all-encompassing. The woman smiled at Faranger, and without shifting her gaze bit him gently on the member. More engorgement.

'' Would you please spread your leg ? ''

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 wooden leg, crossing them over, look and back, front and back, their fingers brushing Faranger 's tegument. The devastatingly intimate spate of these strangers wrapping his legs caused him to farm his gaze to the unseeable ceiling, but their soupcon became even more vivid. He was mindful of each finger as they moved up his second joint, his firm and quick, hers like caresses. She paused now and again to stroke his bare skin. He spasmed around the fireplug and his sex throbbed.

When they had gotten midway up his second joint the cleaning woman said, `` Just a bit. ''

They paused and she handed her strands to her companion. She began caressing Faranger 's second joint, letting her finger trail over the form of his muscles. Then she gently traced one inner rooftree with light kisses, and touches with her clapper starting at the human knee. Faranger spread his legs wider to encourage her to displace high enough to take him in her oral fissure, but when her forefront 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 see this, but the mere act of wrapping his legs was pushing his arousal to the sharpness of pain in the ass.

When they reached the top, they tied the set together on the outside of his leg and wrapped them securely around his thigh as high as possible. They had to drive turns to have way between his wooden leg as they positioned the bit knots inside his groin. They gently pushed his ramification back together. The leather combined with the strap already there pushed his testicles forward.

Next the man produce a stainless steel aim which he held it up for Faranger 's inspection. It was a thin rod, two or three ft long, with a rectangular bag about the size of it of playing card, and, attached at an angle at the top, a thin piece about 3 inches long and a half in wide of the mark, rounded long the top and curved in a way that Faranger instinctively knew would equalize the curved shape of his body between his buttocks. He was proved right when the man slipped the home into a slot on the floor and pressed the top against his anus. The man adjusted it until there was a toothsome press and locked it. Faranger writhed and came tantalizingly close to orgasm as it pressed the chaw inside and the lash outside. But in the end he stopped. It was tantalizingly close, but only close, and he was just providing a show 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 penis. He was obsessed with the scene of relief.

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

Nothing happened for a few More moments ... minutes ? ? Faranger 's consciousness of his intent legs, erecting, naked torso and boundary neck and arms, all exposed to the watcher around the table, caused him to writhe as his torso was taken over by a sultry wave.

'' Ok, now Maria ! '' A lovely woman with shoulder length blond hair and hanker infield earrings approached. Faranger had shifted his gaze up to his frustrate helping hand, but the moderator said, `` Ah, Mr. Faranger, you must depend each of your teaser in the eye. Directly, not just a glance. ``

Faranger did as he was told and she gave him a smile. The coerce personal encounter heightened his sense of humiliation and subjugation, and arousal. The rousing was becoming intolerable. But there was zip to do but allow it.

Faranger 's chest was feeling neglected and so he felt some relief to see her produce two pap clamps. The painful sensation was pronounced when she pulled out each nipple and let them clamps close, but he felt the titillating impact when he became more satiate and involuntarily clenched around the wad and visibly spasmed in his frown abdomen. He focused on the excruciating painfulness and response was repeated several clock time, accompanied by almost unhearable groan, until the pain settled into apathy. She smiled in acknowledgement. Next she leaned down and dragged an earring across his testicles and then across the head of his member. Faranger bucked, trying to campaign himself against the I. F. Stone enough to actuate a orgasm, but fruitlessly. Then the char licked his phallus from hind end to top. Faranger writhed again, vainly trying to attain loss. She buried her finger's breadth in his pubic hairsbreadth to entertain him still and closed her mouth around his penis. 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 thumbs into the leather cradling his testicles between his legs. She could n't strain the pressure point used by the moderator, but that was all rightfulness. She did n't want him to lose his erection. She just wanted to interfere with the climax. They 're playing me like a bass fiddle, Faranger thought ruefully.

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

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

This woman was another young beautiful one, dressed in black, no jewellery, severe Page boy hair. She carried three leather thongs. Their gaze met and held, as required.

kickoff she stroked Faranger 's stiff penis and smiled appreciatively. `` Let 's see what we can do about this. '' She ran one of the G-string across Faranger 's member near the base and attached both ends to the office behind him. She efficiently attached the other two above that one so that his member was pressed against his belly. Each beat of his warmheartedness could be felt clearly under the straps. Maybe this would work all by itself, he thought. She smiled at him again and stepped aside so that her colleagues could get a clear, appreciative look at her handicraft. Then she wrapped her arm around the post behind him and gripped his right wing. She lay her cheek against his belly.

A layer of elementary desire was added to his hot, impersonal arousal at the feel of her cheek and hair on his tegument. She gently licked the tip of his penis. Faranger writhed. Then she worked her lingua into the split up at the end. She grasped his ballock and began to massage expertly. Finally his orgasm was allowed to carry on and she pulled her face away. The motion of his rose hip pressed his phallus against the bands painfully, so that each of his cries was a mix of torment and sexual release. He was come together to passing out, but the pressure of the edge of the collar against his jaw kept him conscious. In a daze he heard the group at the station applauding.

As soon as his breathing returned to some normalcy, the coach approached and first removed the arrest around his neck and the bindings on his legs. Faranger flinched as scissors were worked underneath the dance band of leather tied at the height of his thighs, but no need. They did n't pierce his peel. After the leg wrapper were efficiently unwound, each man firmly encased a second joint in his medallion and drew them down to his ankles, soothing them impersonally. When they removed the nipple clamp, the return of parentage caused new pain, but it was a welcome pain. Next they released the bands across his now flaccid member. The belt was unbuckled, hands brushing his softening genitalia, and the three straps slipped off. Then the shadow handler grasped his buttocks and pulled them apart and away from the place so that the blond could puzzle out out the plug. Faranger was so spent that all of this manipulation produced only a slight muscular contraction of his pelvic muscularity.

Before they released his wrists, the attendant came up, again to his side and just a little behind him, so he could only see the top of her head and her arm as she washed and dried his genitals and belly. With the aid of the manager again, she slipped her bridge player between the post and his buttocks and applied more of the wonderful ointment to his rectum, working her finger in oh so gently.

Lastly they released his radiocarpal joint and then took him down from the rostrum and left him to resist before the gathered members of the station. The lighting and changed so that he was in a glare and the people were standing in shadower. With all adornments removed he felt more naked than he had at any time since the eve began. His penis was flaccid, no erection to energise their attention, but the group stood quietly around watching him. His ramification felt naked. His denude animal foot were there for inspection. His rachis and torso felt rush of exposure. Still no one moved or spoke. Faranger closed his heart and gave himself up to vulnerability.

Finally the animal trainer reappeared. They gave him the chicken feed of rejuvenating drinkable, bound his arm and then left him on exhibit for several more moments before covering him with the ness. The now familiar feeling of the handler 's metacarpophalangeal joint moving over his privates and torso was mildly stimulating, but also strangely comforting.



penalisation

As they walked toward the next place Faranger reflected that it might be a undecomposed thing that penalty was saved for last. He was getting mentally exhausted by the unceasing psychological worrying, the humiliation. He thought he might feel somehow cleaned out if he faced pure physical pain. He found himself perhaps actually craving it. He stood up straighter and picked up his pace.

When they arrived at the stopping point turn mesa in the last pond of sparkle, a refined looking man in a lawsuit stood up. `` Ah, welcome, Mr. Faranger. '' Now, gentleman, '' he said, addressing the handlers. Please disrobe him and I 'll excuse what we 're about here. You can also unbind his arms. '' They did as requested. This clock time, though, the blond caressed his private parts every so fleetingly when he reached the bottom and the men exchanged the faintest of smiles. They then gave his limb a fleet one stroke rub down and left Faranger standing before the moderator and the table of familiar behind him.

'' We are the most scientific and practiced of the grouping in The connection. We 've studied whipping strategies, and we know what works and does n't. The goal is to bring you to orgasm without resorting to any other method than painful sensation. We 're always successful. ''

He picked up a Spanish pointer, like a teacher might use to indicate markings on a blackboard. Instead he indicated places on Faranger 's body. `` The overall strategy is to avoid your genital organ and hind end until the very last. This focuses your tending. You 'll obtain you 're craving pain in those very region. We 're highly skilled at wielding the whips and we 'll land very close, but never touching those region. Indeed, when we aim here, '' he touched Faranger in his pubic haircloth, `` we 'll get one of your helpers hold your erection out of the way. By that time you 'll definitely have an erection, guaranteed. And here, '' he touched the joint where Faranger 's second joint met his torso, `` they 'll guard 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 start with the least erogenous arena, your calfskin. '' He tapped Faranger 's calves with his cursor. `` Next we 'll trounce your back. In each area there will only be four smasher, sometimes by one individual, sometimes divided between two.

The labored whip will be used on your spinal column. Mr. Aiello is able to manoeuver the whip down here, he stroked Faranger 's hip, but not equal your fundament. '' Faranger cringed inwardly as the stroke of the pointer down his back created vivid images of whip CVA, but he also experienced an titillating spasm in his lower abdomen, which he was sure was apparent to the onlooker.

'' Then we move to your abdominal cavity. '' He let the pointer drift down the plaza. `` You might think that would be the penult erogenous zone, but really, it 's here. '' He stroked Faranger 's inner thighs from torso to knee. `` You 'll see.

Next, we 'll rack your penis. We wo n't use an actual 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 nuisance.

Finally, we 'll use this official document to whip your buttocks so hard that you will blunder. Guaranteed. Works every time. '' He picked up an objective from the tabular array. It was a piece of thin control board, about 8 in wide and two feet long with a handle at one end. On one incline of it another, even dilutant, board was affixed with flexible joint. The moderator slammed the plank onto the table making a tremendous sound that was followed almost simultaneously by the auditory sensation of the sec dining table slamming menage. `` We do n't care to holler this a paddle, too juvenile. This is an legal document of torture, pure and simple, particularly in the hands of Mr. Mangu over there. '' He pointed to a heavy man whose muscles were clearly defined under the jersey under his sport coat. `` This will certainly provide you seriously bruised, but, as we promise in our marketing, no permanent combat injury. ``

By this clock time Faranger was not sure at all that the punishment station was a adept idea. But there was cypher for it but to hang in there.

'' Now, just a Christian Bible about the injuries our whips inflict. '' He picked up a whiplash with dozens of leather thongs, each tipped with a very pocket-sized stainless steel ball. `` These little balls will bruise you. Sometimes they draw origin, but usually not, except for your back. That whip is a touchstone bull whiplash. The clever thing about our weapons and our training is that we can leave alone you with lineage of contusion straight up and down your body. Quite amaze, really. So, for instance, you 'll bear a line from here to here. '' He drew his Spanish pointer from Faranger 's chest to his pubic tomentum, just to the leftfield of his left tit. `` And one from here to here. '' He traced a logical argument from Faranger 's throat, just to the left of his tit bone down to a point just above and to the left of his phallus. `` And two more logical argument on the other side. We 're very lofty of our technique. '' He smiled in a self gratify way.

'' The design is very important too. You see the thong are spread out along a interbreeding bar, kind of like a garden pitch, but look. There 's just a very tenuous difference in the length. The outer flip-flop are longer than the midriff I. This is so they make a heterosexual person line when they 're flung out. '' He smiled again with satisfaction.

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

Faranger was on the brink of feeling faint with fear, but went to the board that was indicated. All of the instruments except the wooden one were in a single pile. He picked it up and went back to the moderator 's side of meat. `` Just break up out something. The right person will ask for it. '' Faranger grasped what looked like a whip for a horse. A sinewy man to his right leaned over and took it. Next was a shorter whiplash with piles of thongs. It was the one the moderator had used in his talk. A middle aged cleaning lady reached for it. She was constituent of the couple who had been ahead of him at the enrolment desk. `` There 's another one in there. They come as a set. '' Faranger found it and handed it to her partner. He handed a standardised pair to another couple, a metal contraption that looked like a large hair curler to a Danton True Young fair sex '' Then he picked up the infamous wooden instrument and handed it to Mangu. Each time he handed over an musical instrument he had looked the recipient in the eye, but this metre, instead of feeling subjugation, he had the horse sense that he was a guest handing out equipment for people to perform a service. And, as a topic of fact, that was exactly what the situation was.

'' Fine, fine. '' Said the moderator. Now we need to tie you in position. Please step over here. '' He indicated a space lit up by a small spotlight. There were ankle joint bracelets chained to the floor about 3 feet apart, and radiocarpal joint wristband hanging from a bar attached to an arm attached to a lumbering pedestal. The arm was long enough so that there was no impediment to accessing Faranger from any Angle.

Faranger 's carpus were shackled and his weaponry spread out and raised. Like DaVinci 's man in a band, he thought. This time his ankles were also chained. The moderator 's talk about genitals and buttocks was already making him get down to feel full in just those places, and nix had yet happened. He was glad his hands were shackled, in pillow slip he simply collapsed from fright. The purity of pain ! he thought scornfully. bull ! What could be Thomas More of a psychological game than this line of focusing on something by not touching it. But he was helpless. It worked. He longed for someone to just slap his shaft and his ass. firmly !

The commencement associates to approach him were a Brigham Young couple. Their party whip had dozens of G-string, of slightly different lengths, attached the handle in a conventional fashion. They took routine, each slamming his calves twice in tour. It hurt, certainly, but the moderator was right. Much of the maven was arousal in his genitals and buttocks.

Next came the man with the heavy whip. As Faranger watched him he felt an dainty spate of fear mixed with arousal. The man went behind Faranger, just out of his field of imaginativeness. He waited for several moments. Faranger tensed in anticipation, digging his digit into his palms. Finally a blow came, diagonally from shoulder to hip. The tip of the whip snaked down his mighty slope, next to his buttock. But, of course, not touching it. The same matter happened from the other direction much prompt than Faranger expected or could prepare for. His back was already aflame when the whip landed across his shoulder blades, and just below his shank. His whole back throbbed, as did the focal points, which had not yet been touched.

Then two cleaning woman approached and positioned themselves on either English of him. The blond manager came and gently held Faranger 's penis down as far as was possible. The touch gave him no relief. It only inflamed him. The cleaning lady took it in bout to lay almost perfectly straight stripes down his body. The 2nd strike caught in some pubic hairs. `` Oh, I 'm so sad ! '' one of the women said, apparently with sincerity, as she pulled them out to let go of the party whip. Faranger had persuasiveness enough to smile to himself through the pain at the irony of it.

The fourth people to take their bit were an elderly couple, almost elderly. Their whips were light and of the `` roue '' structure. The blond coach raised Faranger 's scrotum. Faranger gripped the Chain holding his wrist manacles. The couple first whipped Faranger 's inner thigh in the strawman, swinging from above his second joint. But for the indorsement C, they came at him from keister and marked his internal thigh toward the back. The moderator was right. This was even more painful and titillating than the reversal on his body. It 's almost over. What will encounter ? Will I fare through all this pain ?

Finally the avoidance strategy was over. The new charwoman with the alloy cylinder approached him. It was hinged along one English and lined with small knobs. She closed it around his phallus and began to cast the two sides together. She carefully watched Faranger 's facial expression and his hard-on, extracting the most ail possible without causing it to collapse. He gritted his teeth and flung his head back, groaning, suppressing a loud cry. When she removed the twist Faranger felt some assuagement, but still craved completion.

The man with the wooden paddle approached. He paused long enough to engage Faranger 's gaze, his own side expressionless. Fear and prediction and intimate tension overwhelmed him, cringing and craving at the Lapplander prison term. And then it came, a powerful blow to his buttocks. Semen gibe from his body. He cried out in nuisance and culmination, a second time. A third base metre. There was no twenty-five percent blow. Faranger was clearly finished. The man returned to the mesa and sat down.

Faranger panted for respective bit and then gave a tenacious suspiration, grateful that the botheration was finally sufficient to fill his needs. He could take a breather now.



quietus

And, indeed, residue came quickly. When the coach arrived, Faranger was hanging by his wrists, 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 limb across their shoulders and made their way directly to a cage in the crescent of the three stations. It was about four pes in high spirits and set on a four foot high standstill. A circle of lights was switched on around them. The batting cage was enceinte enough to comfortably oblige a man lying down on the padded aerofoil, with a small leather pillow, and there was Sir Thomas More distance between the pillow and the end of the cage. `` The door will be locked until break of the day, so, of form, you 'll give birth 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 give you is unattackable enough that you should be able-bodied to get a few 60 minutes of respectable sleep anyway. ''

There was a narrow urinal attached to one exterior turning point, appearing to be made of rose quartz glass."Go ahead,"said the blond coach."The formula against touching yourself is over."

Faranger took reward of the opportunity, reflecting on how the intelligence"relieve"could be so especially appropriate in certain lot. He was aware that there were people in the surrounding swarthiness watching him. But it no longer mattered. He and the handler watched the current swirl down the crystal and then Faranger lifted himself onto the story of the cage and sat with his pegleg hanging over the edge. The benighted one fetched a glass from a shelf on the end of the cage. `` This drink has no input, '' he said. `` Instead it will make relaxed you and give up you to kip if you wish. '' Faranger drank it down. No bubbles, just a assuasive herb tea sense of taste.

"Would you like me to get hold of you after you leave here ?"asked the blond. Faranger valued the memory of his misdemeanour, but ..."No, I think not. But thank you. Thank you for everything."Both coach nodded and said,"goodbye, sir."“ Goodbye ”, said Faranger."He pulled his leg into the cage and lay down on his stomach, exhausted.

The white gowned accompaniment arrived and climbed in, after setting down her flatware tray in the distance above the pillow. `` There 's some bleeding on your back. This will sting a short, but it will block up the bleeding. '' It stung a lot - tooth grinding, but as the sting faded so did the burning infliction. It felt wonderful. But even better was when she rubbed lotion into his buttocks with a firm, form, round motility. He knew he was badly bruised. She applied ointment from a tube to his anus and then proceeded to rub lotion onto the bruises along his second joint and calves. The unction was cool and warmly at the Lapplander time. Her script were wonderfully aristocratical. The whipping was almost worth the pleasure of this treatment.

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

He spread his stage enough for her to reach the whole length of the soft touch on his thigh. She applied the same discourse 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 offend penis he thought he would once again be dragged into arousal, but the drinking had done its job. There was only a slight lump. He was on the edge of quietus. He luxuriated in surrendering himself to her care. His physical structure had been engulfed in stripes of pain since the drubbing, but now he was only sore.

When she left he turned on his side of meat, rested his head in his left mitt and pulled his top leg up. It 's how he usually went to sleep. The luminance had dimmed considerably. He could n't see any spectators just before he closed his eyes, but presently he felt hands on him here and there. He felt no magnetic inclination to search to see who they were until someone softly brushed his hair back from his forehead. He opened his optic a trivial bit and looked into the face of the adult female with the dim glasses. That 's OK, was his cobbler's last opinion before he fell asleep.



LOVE

Some hours later he surfaced from sleep to become cognisant of an arm across his bureau. He stirred just a little and realized that there was a body closemouthed against his own. Female. The light was very dim, but he could see clearly that it was the co-occurrence, naked now, but more importantly, he could see her face ! It was n't a beautiful face. It was a wonderful fount ! It 's planes and curves tugged on his store. Its foible called to him. He leaned on his elbow joint and took it between his handwriting. Ah ! He had n't touched anything in hours ! He was overwhelmed. She opened her optic and put her implements of war around him. There was a hitch in his breathing. Is this what the mean value when they say your heart turned over ?

She turned to her side and he was certainly aware of her balminess pressed against the duration of him, but he could n't really turn his attending from her brass. He kissed her eyes and her cheek and her mouth. A chaste, getting to know you snog. He leaned back to see the unit of her case again. It was sufficient for now.

'' I 'm so glad 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 spine and kissed him. He took her human face in his hands and she returned the motion. They opened their mouthpiece and their knife engaged in revel exploration. His hands roved over her marvelously flaccid body. Her breasts filled them to overflowing. Ah ! it was so unspoiled to have agency. To be capable to induct natural process ! And what action at law ! He buried his face between her chest. 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 passable means of joining with another person. He slid the tip slowly between her flock, over her swollen clitoris. Her welcoming vagina seemed to palaver him inside. After his coming he rested on his subdivision in the quiet to hear her diffuse noises and feel the undulation inside her embrace him. They lay together with his head on one breast and his hand on the early. She nestled her boldness against his forehead and held him in her arms.

Some time later Faranger awoke and found their view reversed. She was sleeping with her head on his shoulder joint. Her hair fell across her cheek so he could hardly see her face. It was a picture of her that he treasured, but he gently drew her hair back anyway He watched her fondly until her eyes opened. `` count at you ! '' he said endearingly.

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

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

'' Believe it. I believe everyone has left. Come with me. We can take a rain shower. Our apparel and things are waiting for us. ``

They held workforce as they headed into the colored bound of the hall. The changing room was a medium sized, brightly lit outer space. Their clothes were hanging in a small alcove. They stepped into the shower and soaped each other, and kissed each former, and hugged each former. And then they slowly dried each former with the big fluffy towels that were at hand.



spirit

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

"Yes,"said Sandra, executing the end wriggle to get her sheer tights in place."There's a wonderful security about clothing."

'' Do you have to be somewhere ? '' he asked. `` Do you give time for breakfast ? ``

'' A short circuit one. Coffee workshop ? I have a confluence at nine. ``

'' Where do you run ? ``

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

'' No ! Me too ! Well, not at Grimsby Hawthorne. I actually own my own small investment firm. But it 's overnice to be intimate we can spill the beans about our work. Do n't you think ? ``

'' 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 standoff. '' She stood in front end of him and tied the tie. When she was done she ran her hands down his crisp white shirt front. When she reached his rap she slid them around behind and down and pulled their soundbox together. They embraced and kissed for a long time.

They exited the building to regain a glorious spring day. Faranger thought that the leaves must be just a little bigger than they were yesterday, but he could n't tell. They took manpower and headed down the street, grinning at each early every now and then like tiddler playing hooky. They went into a java workshop on the niche across from the parkland. Faranger went to the counter to get their crescent roll and coffee bean, and when he sat down again he said, `` So ... was the unit dark division of your contract ? ``

'' No, not at all. I just wanted to be with you so badly ! My contract bridge only required that I stay the nighttime so I could show you the changing room and interlock 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 enough ! We have to. ``

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

'' That sounds just right. ``

They ate for a while, looking up from their nutrient repeatedly, to savor the fate. Finally Faranger said, `` Well, I guess it 's clock time to start the day. I have to go say 'Hi'to Stephanie and Pederson. '' Sandra put her handwriting over his, with a consoling looking at. They went out of the umber store, shared a placate kiss and headed off in opposite directions.

Faranger walked up the street along the parking lot, and when he entered the edifice and walked up to Stephanie's desk, he was sorry for her obvious fear. Her centre uncontrollably went to the mat front line of his pants. He smiled."Stephanie, I wanted to thank you for your assistant last night. And to distinguish you that things will be normal. You don't need to worry about any repercussions."She nodded, still wordless. He knew he was doing her a favor by leaving right away.

He went up the stairs at a clip and headed heterosexual for Pederson's desk. Pederson was always there early. Pederson wasn't overtly frightened, but he looked at Faranger with worry."Hi, Ralph."( He'd looked up the maiden name on his speech sound. )"Thanks for your assistance lastly night. You were brilliant,"he said with an wry smile."No need to worry about any repercussions."Pederson nodded tentatively.

On the way to his office, Faranger savored the thought that whenever he was near Pederson or Stephanie he could expect a frisson of recollection of his Nox at dozen Maxbridge Street.

At five o'clock he got out the business carte du jour that Sandra had given him and dialed her work number. `` I ca n't hold back till six. Can you get away now ? ``

'' Yes, I can. I 'll see you at the restaurant in 10 minutes ? ``

'' See you then. ``

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

'' Me too ! ``

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

"So, we know what I was doing there finis night, said Faranger. `` How did you descend to be there ?"

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

"I called a phone number I found in a cryptic ad in a cartridge clip. I asked them to send me info. 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 minuscule way. He drew out an gasbag and pulled out a stiff lineup bordered in black. It was about three inch by eight column inch. In elegant printing it said :

The Association

We can provide a night of

pain and sexual humiliation

$ 3000

Confidentiality is guaranteed.

There will be no permanent trauma, photography or film.

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

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

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

"I don't know. It's too soon. Right now I have no angle of dip, and I have a knockout clip imagining that anything would n't be an anti-climax. Sic, '' he added, with a nod to the double meaning. `` Certainly I do n't have any other people in my living like Pederson and Stephanie. '' His grin turned wry.

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

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

He put his bridge player over hers. `` Did you see everything ? ``

Softly, `` Yes. I saw everything. '' She placed her other mitt over his.

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

dinner was delicious. It fit with the toothsomeness of the whole evening. They dived into getting to experience each other. `` well, I 'm salve that we agree on politics, '' she said. `` I ca n't think how duad like James Carville and Mary Matalin do it. Do you think they debate every evening over supper ? Or d'you think that they long ago agreed just not to talk politics ? What DO they spill the beans about ? Politics are their lives. ``

'' Dunno. It 's a mystery. ``

When they 'd use up virtually of their dinner party Sandra said, `` Why do n't you come and spend the night at my house ? The stores are still undefended. We can get you a fresh shirt and tie and run your underclothes through the wash. ''

Faranger laughed a lilliputian bit. `` I do n't mean I 'll be up for anything for a while. ``

'' Of course not, silly. Who knows dear than I do that you need to go back. But would n't it be prissy just to nurse each other for a prospicient fourth dimension ? ``

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

*****

'' I can get good seats to the Celtic tonight, '' said Saint John the Apostle. `` Do you like basketball ? ``

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

'' It 's my main variation. I like football on TV, '' but that 's about it.

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

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

*****

'' I found a cape Verdean restaurant. Want to try it tonight ? '' he asked one first light over breakfast.

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

'' I know of one. If you like that sort of thing we could wee it a variety of ritual to try a unlike ethnic restaurant every calendar week or so until we 've exhausted what Hub of the Universe has to offer. Wan na ? ``

'' Yeah ! That 's a smashing idea. Where is cape Verde anyway ? ``

'' I used to think 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 degree out. I would n't contract a walk in the rain if it were 75 degrees out. Do n't you have a girlfriend who likes that kind of idiocy ? ``

'' Yeah, I do. I 'll bid her. I guess I ought to stoke my friendly relationship. I 've been neglecting multitude. ``

*****

They had established that they had unlike perceptiveness in pop music, but they had already mutually enjoyed the symphonic music and a bedchamber medicine concert when she asked `` Do you like nothingness ? ``

'' wellspring, I do n't really know much about it. But one of my fondest retentivity, is when I was in college and heard a jazz trio at the Carlyle in Manhattan. I do n't know if the euphony made it so special or just the atmosphere. ``

'' wellspring, let 's see if you do like it. There 's a keen, small malarky cabaret I 'd like us to go to. ``

'' You 're on. ``

*****

'' So how about we do n't do anything special tonight ? '' she said. `` We can ingest soup and a sandwich at my place and read and then watch some motion-picture show in bed. ``

'' Do you give 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 berth and a unlike one at yours. I read them concurrently. ``

'' Then we have a design. We 'll take the air, OK ? ``

'' Sounds perfect to me. ``

THE END
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