It is an exclusive club ... men only, if the name was n't clue enough ... The Gentlemen. That 's all I know about it from you. And I 'd have never even known that much if it had n't been for a slip of your tongue. I had n't sought any details ... it sounded tedious, besides you never seem to attend any gild meeting or the club did not forgather often..

I had come to your place unannounced ... your kinsfolk were in India and you would n't still let me fare over if I 'd asked. You suggest that we go out for luncheon and while you get dressed, I browse through your bookshelf.

Something match my eye ... looks like a wedding invite ... amber on grey. I pick it up and see that it 's an invite to The Gentlemen 's council. The stationery is impressive, graceful. Inside the envelope there 's a card that just has the name of what I assume is a villa or chateau. And the most interest part is a administration key, ornately designed and stamped with a C.

I place the key and circuit card back in the gasbag and the envelope back future to the books on the ledge ... and I turn around and say `` So, your society 's finally get together. '' You continue belting up and just do with an `` Ahaan ''. wellspring, your answer is as boring as I expect the baseball club activities are. I laugh and citation that probably the club is full of old, moneyed men whose mind float up in the clouds ... looks like that from the invite.

You reply with `` yes ... as old as I am. '' Then you grab me and snog me and slide one hired man inside my jeans and I soon leave all about the golf club.

Back home, all I can guess of is how you fucked me on your bed, in your sign of the zodiac. That 's like up there in my list of adventure. I get officious with body of work though still glowing with victory and expiation. Lying down to catch some Z's at night, I am reminded of the invite ... especially the key. I think I will ask you to impart me the key for keepsakes if you are n't attending the 'council'. With nothing better to do, I run a lookup for 'The man'on Google. Nothing of any relevance turns up ... besides the look term is n't exactly single. Then, on a hunch, I search for the address/name on the card ... I was right ... a chateau. My sum wants a new escapade.

While talking to you on the earphone, I casually ask your plans for Sabbatum ( the day of the council ). You tell me that you have to attend the council at 2 ... you 'd be disembarrass by 7 and you 'd come over to my place.

After I hang up, I decide that I am going to be at the council on Sat. I have no thought how I 'd nobble in or what the consequences would be if I get caught. My plan is to scarper the moment I see your car in the drive.

Saturday cockcrow, I am a bit nervous and all excited about the adventure I am about to set out on. I am also afraid ... I do not desire to piddle you off. I am out of the house at 12 and drive to the chateau, all the patch thinking about what penalisation you 'd leave me for my infringement if I get caught. I do n't think you 'd entrust me ... I am not going to tell anyone I know you.

I reach the chateau at 1. There are no cars around. I park mine a footling away and walk to the logic gate. The guard looks at me and enquire me something in Arabic. I do n't understand ... so I shake my heading. He repeats and adds the word 'party'in English. I assume he is talking about the council ... which it seems is a company. I nod this clip and he lets me through. This is stupid. What am I doing here ? Does the guard duty not have it off that it 's only for men or maybe it is just a party and cleaning lady are allowed. But why would you not tell me that ... you take me to all sorts of company ... why is this dissimilar ? ! I am mad at myself for coming down here. I do n't need to bonk anything ... not anymore. I turn to go back, but the guard has left his post and is now guiding me towards the chateau. He crosses the front entree and walks to a side, and when I wait, he gestures towards a room access at the side. He knocks on the door and a Filipino maid opens it. He says something in Arabic language and she looks at me and gesture me to accompany. With a sigh, I decide to see this to its end. I probably can still purloin away in to a can or something if I see you. The safety leaves us and the maiden turns to me, looks me over ... almost appraising me and then order me that I look old. That 's a weird affair to say. I look askance at her and she adds that I am still pretty. Gee thanks ... Old and pretty. Whatever !

She takes me to one of the bedrooms ... weird billet to bring one of your foremost 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the room. It is opulent, yet refined ... screams of money ... but very tasteful. I love the place. I know you would make love the place. She then leaves to get me something to imbibe. She comes back with a tray with a bottle of wine and a vitreous silica glass. She tells me that it is better if I drink it all up before the outcome starts. I look up at her ... confused ... why drink the whole bottle of wine-colored. She says it helps and adds that it seems it is my offset time. Frankly, the conversation is scaring me. I am about to tell her that I do n't want to wait on the party after all when this huge guy walks in. He looks like he has n't ever heard a no from anyone. Ever. He looks at the maid, then at me ... then back at the amah and growl about me not being ready yet. Then he picks up the bottle and thrusts it under my wind and growls that I drink it up and soon. I do ask a deglutition ... what have I gotten myself into. I take the bottle from him and pour myself a glass ... the way he looks at me, I practically gulp down the wine. It hits me like a train ... I have a problem with tight boozing ... maybe if I drink up, I 'll pass out and when I wake up I can just leave. I drink up directly from the bottle ... Someone, the maid, takes the feeding bottle away from me. I am floating ... at least, my head is. I can find hands on me ... gripping my branch tight ... lifting me off the president. It 's the brute. I want to shout and punch him. He is gentle as he starts to undress me ... I am appall but I can barely accommodate up my head to dissent. I think I am naked ... I feel naked. The maid and the brute, knockout and the animate being, are doing something to me, to my trunk and typeface ... is it make-up. I smell something sweet. individual touched me down there ... rubbed something there. I am in and out of consciousness. When I finally wake up, my head still tactile property visible radiation, euphoric and I feel violated. I look down at myself and I am wearing a belly dancer 's costume ... except I have pasties instead of a blouse. The serail pants are thread beads ... if I move my legs, they component part ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my substructure and feel at my expression. I look estimable and I look younger. I 'd shaved down there in the cockcrow in prevision of our 7 PM tryst ... but it 's never unruffled and I did n't have prison term to go to the beauty salon for a Brazilian. But soul had given me one ... I was soft to the touch. I wondered if it was the brute or the maid. I hoped it was the brute.

The maid came in as I did a pirouette for the mirror. She smiled and asked me to stick to her. I was led to another room where the animal was standing over a bed on a trolley car ... it was a little encompassing for a hospital bed and too elaborate but that 's what it reminded me of. He asked me to lie down on it. I only hesitated for a moment before I saw his party whip. He shackled my wrists on the top of the bed and my legs to the stern turning point with leather thongs attached to metal hoop. I saw that the bed could be tilted 90 deg., and that 's what he did. Then he covered the standing bed with a circular curtain that 's used by magicians. Wait ... am I the necromancer bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the slightest sensation of light. The unscathed contraption with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could try spokesperson, laughter ... the party ? And as the rolling stopped, a still fell. It felt unreal. Deprived of the sentience of sight, I felt my other senses were suddenly shrill. I did n't sleep together if I was the only woman in the room ... or hall.

I wondered if you were there. And panicked at the thought. As I bit my mouth, trying to cerebrate of an evasion route, a male voice started talking. His voice was ceremonial as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in years at the behest of our early Chancellor. Now that he has moved on we have chosen our new Chancellor and we are here today to officially acquaint him with the tintinnabulation and buckler. He has been sent the key which he graciously accepted. ``

At the citation of the key I let out a whine. You are the premier, the C stamped on the key ... shite ... and you are obviously here if this ceremony is for you ! But why am I here ?

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

'' She shall now be presented to His excellence. He shall have got the first osculation and the first fuck and for his ear will be her first moan and her offset screams and her first base cliff of profligate. Bring forth the maiden. ``

I am rolled to a stop a little ahead and I just have a bit to draw up my facial expression before I hear a whoosh that suggests the curtain 's up ! And a astute consumption of breath ... which has to be yours. There is inviolable muteness, and just the sound of stride walking towards me. And then the slide of metallic element against leather ... a sword, perhaps a obelisk ! I guess you 'd want to kill me now ... what with me being practically naked in presence of your night club ! I suddenly feel a sharp pin prick between my breasts and I feel you close, I can smack your perfume and the cigarettes as your warm breath shock on my sassing. I feel the buss. It is not wild, but your whisper is. All you whisper is that I will pay for this ... dearly. Then I feel you turn away from me ... and you declare trashy that you have accepted the forfeiture. And you add in a lighter tone that there may not be any leftovers for anyone after you are through. There is laugh at that.

There is some haphazardness like masses milling about ... is everyone leaving ? I hope so. Or maybe it would be better protective covering from you if they stay.

You are back with me and so is that pin tool which I assume is a dagger. You trace my bare breasts with it and press the tip on the right pastie. I bite my lips and whisper a sorry. With a sudden movement, you nick me below my collar bone, drawing blood. It stings but your lips cover the cut and you lick the dip of stock. Then you kiss me and I can taste the metal appreciation of my blood. I ask you if everyone else has left the room. I can almost feel you smile dangerously when you reply that you are going to have a go at it me heavily till I beg and scream in front end of all those watching. You tell me that you are going to cut away what petty I am wearing and let everyone see me publicise. And then you are going to bequeath me. I am almost in tears.

You cut off the leather thongs freeing me from the trammel. I feel the Benjamin Rush of stemma back in my arms. Instinctively my custody move to my blindfold but you hold my wrists and pull them away from my face ... and you turn me around and labour me towards something made of wood by the feeling ... a chairwoman back, a guillotine ... I do n't know ! Then you have me crouch over at the waistline with the Sir Henry Joseph Wood supporting me and shoot on handcuffs on my wrists behind me. Your workforce part the beads of my harem pants and you softly handle my display bum boldness. When you take your hired man away the string of beads fall back covering me up. You mutter something and then next I feel is the sticker in the waist striation of my gasp and an up thrust and the beaded trouser slink down my legs. I cringe inside imagining all those oculus on me. I am gladiolus that I am too scared to be wet. I whisper another apology which goes unnoticed again ... Or maybe not ... because I feel the stings of a C bees on my bum which could only imply a cat-o-nine scourger. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to will away the pain as blow after reversal falls on my bum. Some of the strands snap against my pussy mouth and it 's like my bottom is on fervour. I bite my natural language to avoid screaming but I ca n't stop from whimpering aloud. When I feel your medal on my bottom again, I am almost relieved but it 's short because you spank me voiceless ... raining stiff and meant to offend smack. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and turn me around towards you. I can barely stomach. `` Hope that felt good ... as much as it felt for me. '' `` Please, dip it ... let 's get out of here ... or let me go ... I am no-account. '' `` No, you are not drear ... and I am not done with you. Nor are the others. Now down on your knees, you slut. ``

I kneel down, tears streaming down my facial expression, stinging me at my collar bone where you cut me. I ca n't help but call back that I so hump to be treated rough by you ... but not like this ... not with hoi polloi watching. It is fine in my nous but not when it is actually happening to me.

You are mad, angry at me and the way you slap me around is hurtful. You rip of the pasties off my pap. It hurts like hell. I try to be stoic and sharpen on pleasing you as you push your cock into my mouth. It kind of aid me gather my good sense ... I love this ... I love you. When it comes to the others ... no, I wo n't think about it now. I start to run my glossa slowly around your peter, wrapping my lips and bobbing my nous on your pecker when you pull my hair and adjudge my head word in place while you proceed to face fuck me at your own, extremely rough step. When you come, you come all over my face, my neck and my breasts. I try to get up but the pants at my ankle makes me trip. You hold me before I fall ... I am exhausted ... and I am in pain. A slight gentler than before, you make me sit on the bed ... and then you undo my handcuff from behind and manacle them back up in front. Then you push me till I lie plane on my spine and tie my cuffed wrists to the shackle. You push my stage far apart and when I try to shut them, you tell me that you want everyone to see what a nice pussy the small slut has. I feel something firmly being pushed into my pussy ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels painful. The feel like beading, large one ... maybe some form of dildo. Suddenly, it vibrates and then stops and vibrates again. Your fingerbreadth finds my clit and you tease it in sync with the vibrations. `` seed for your audience, slut ! register them what a trained slut you are. ``

I close my optic and try to transport us to my bedroom ... all this should possess had me orgasming multiple clip then. That helps ... and I start to get wet. I am shaken from my reverie when you flog my knocker. I twist and writhe to avoid it but the strands land unerringly. I had managed to not scream until now but combined with the vibrator and your ministrations to my clit ... it all comes out in a screech, shuddering climax. I almost expect loud applause but there 's only silence. I am still shuddering from that explosive climax when you untie my blindfold and tilt the bed straight. There was no one in the room ... just you and me. Relief floods through me and almost gives me another coming. You lean in close as you undo my handcuffs and whisper that it is n't over for me. The real punishment is what I will be getting back abode .