It is an sole 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 practically if it had n't been for a pillowcase of your natural language. I had n't sought any details ... it sounded wearisome, besides you never seem to assist any club meetings or the club did not meet often..

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

Something grab my eye ... looks like a wedding invite ... amber on greyness. I pick it up and see that it 's an invite to The valet de chambre 's council. The stationery is impressive, elegant. Inside the envelope there 's a scorecard that just has the name of what I assume is a Villa or chateau. And the most concern character is a brass instrument key, ornately designed and stamped with a C.

I place the key and circuit board back in the envelope and the envelope back next to the books on the shelf ... and I turn around and say `` So, your club 's finally meeting. '' You continue belting up and just answer with an `` Ahaan ''. well, your response is as boring as I expect the night club activities are. I laugh and credit that probably the night club is full phase of the moon of old, moneyed men whose heads float up in the clouds ... looks like that from the invite.

You reply with `` yes ... as old as I am. '' Then you grab me and kiss me and slip one hand inside my blue jean and I soon forget all about the club.

Back household, all I can think of is how you fucked me on your bed, in your house. That 's like up there in my list of risky venture. I get interfering with work though still glowing with victory and satisfaction. Lying down to sleep at night, I am reminded of the invite ... especially the key. I think I will ask you to turn over me the key for keepsakes if you are n't attending the 'council'. With cypher better to do, I run a search for 'The gentleman's gentleman'on Google. nil of any relevance turns up ... besides the look for term is n't exactly scoop. Then, on a hunch, I search for the address/name on the board ... I was right ... a chateau. My heart wants a new dangerous undertaking.

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

After I hang up, I decide that I am going to be at the council on Sabbatum. I have no idea how I 'd hook in or what the outcome would be if I get caught. My plan is to lam 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 need to pee-pee you off. I am out of the theatre at 12 and drive to the chateau, all the patch thinking about what punishment you 'd give me for my misdemeanour if I get caught. I do n't mean you 'd leave me ... I am not going to tell anyone I know you.

I reach the chateau at 1. There are no car around. I park mine a little away and walk to the logic gate. The guard looks at me and take me something in Arabic. I do n't understand ... so I shake my principal. He repeats and adds the Christian Bible 'party'in English. I assume he is talking about the council ... which it seems is a party. I nod this time and he lets me through. This is poor fish. What am I doing here ? Does the guard duty not know that it 's only for men or maybe it is just a party and adult female are allowed. But why would you not tell me that ... you take me to all sort of party ... why is this different ? ! I am mad at myself for coming down here. I do n't need to experience anything ... not anymore. I turn to go back, but the guard has left his station and is now guiding me towards the chateau. He crosses the front entrance and walks to a English, and when I wait, he gestures towards a door at the side. He knocks on the room access and a Filipino amah opens it. He says something in Arabic language and she looks at me and gestures me to follow. With a suspire, I decide to see this to its end. I probably can still sneak away in to a can or something if I see you. The guard leaves us and the amah turns to me, looks me over ... almost appraising me and then tells me that I look old. That 's a unearthly affair to say. I look askance at her and she adds that I am still pretty. Gee thanks ... Old and pretty. Whatever !

She takes me to one of the bedroom ... Wyrd topographic point to film one of your first gear 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the elbow room. It is princely, yet refined ... screech of money ... but very tasteful. I love the berth. I know you would eff the place. She then leaves to get me something to drink in. She comes back with a tray with a bottle of wine and a crystal glass. She tells me that it is better if I drink it all up before the case starts. I look up at her ... confused ... why drink the whole bottle of wine. She says it helps and adds that it seems it is my showtime time. Frankly, the conversation is scaring me. I am about to tell her that I do n't need to attend the party after all when this Brobdingnagian guy walk of life in. He looks like he has n't ever heard a no from anyone. Ever. He looks at the maid, then at me ... then back at the maid and growl about me not being ready yet. Then he picks up the bottle and thrusts it under my scent and growls that I drink it up and soon. I do call for a drinkable ... what have I gotten myself into. I take the bottleful 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 loyal drink ... 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 bottle away from me. I am floating ... at least, my head is. I can palpate work force on me ... gripping my subdivision tight ... lifting me off the president. It 's the brute. I want to shout and punch him. He is gentle as he starts to unclothe me ... I am horrified but I can barely hold up my nous to protest. I think I am au naturel ... I feel naked. The maiden and the savage, ravisher and the savage, are doing something to me, to my dead body and font ... is it composition. I smell something sugariness. Someone touched me down there ... rubbed something there. I am in and out of consciousness. When I finally wake up, my mind still feels visible radiation, euphoric and I feel violated. I look down at myself and I am wearing a belly professional dancer 's costume ... except I have pasties instead of a blouse. The harem pants are draw beads ... if I move my legs, they part ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my invertebrate foot and looking at my contemplation. I look good and I look younger. I 'd shaved down there in the aurora in anticipation of our 7 PM tryst ... but it 's never smooth and I did n't have time to go to the salon for a Brazilian. But someone had given me one ... I was flaccid to the touch. I wondered if it was the beast 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 follow her. I was led to another way where the brute was standing over a bed on a trolley ... it was a small spacious for a hospital bed and too work out 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 whip. He shackled my wrist on the top of the bed and my peg to the tush corners with leather lash attached to metal ring. 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 prestidigitator. Wait ... am I the thaumaturge bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the slightest sensation of light. The entirely appliance with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could listen voices, laughter ... the party ? And as the wheeling stopped, a stillness fell. It felt insubstantial. Deprived of the sensory faculty of wad, I felt my other locoweed were suddenly shrewd. I did n't know if I was the only cleaning woman in the room ... or hall.

I wondered if you were there. And panicked at the persuasion. As I bit my rim, trying to think of an escape route, a male voice started talking. His vocalism was observance as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in years at the behest of our former prime minister. Now that he has moved on we have chosen our new Chancellor and we are here today to officially nowadays him with the ring and shield. He has been sent the key which he graciously accepted. ``

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

The part continues ... `` ... as is the tradition, we have the sacrificial maiden ready ... '' Wait ... what ? Sacrificial maid ? That 's wrong on so many spirit level !

'' She shall now be presented to His Excellency. He shall have the starting time candy kiss and the first fuck and for his ears will be her world-class groan and her first howler and her first drop of parentage. Bring forth the maiden. ``

I am rolled to a stop a little ahead and I just have a mo to compose my face before I hear a whoosh that suggests the pall 's up ! And a sharp inlet of breath ... which has to be yours. There is absolute silence, and just the sound of pace walking towards me. And then the slide of alloy against leather ... a blade, perhaps a sticker ! I guess you 'd want to kill me now ... what with me being practically naked in front of your club ! I suddenly feel a piercing pin prick between my breasts and I feel you close, I can smell your perfume and the cigarettes as your fond breath blows on my lips. I feel the candy kiss. It is not angry, but your whispering is. All you whisper is that I will pay for this ... dearly. Then I feel you turn away from me ... and you declare loudly that you have accepted the sacrifice. And you add in a hoy whole tone that there may not be any leftovers for anyone after you are through. There is laughter at that.

There is some racket like people milling about ... is everyone leaving ? I hope so. Or maybe it would be full protective cover from you if they stay.

You are back with me and so is that pin prick which I assume is a obelisk. You trace my bare breasts with it and iron the tip on the decent pastie. I bite my back talk and whisper a sorry. With a sudden movement, you nick me below my leash bone, drawing blood. It stings but your sassing cover the cut and you lick the dip of blood. Then you kiss me and I can savour the metallic penchant of my blood. I ask you if everyone else has left the room. I can almost sense you smile dangerously when you reply that you are going to fuck me voiceless till I beg and scream in front of all those watching. You tell me that you are going to cut away what little I am wearing and let everyone see me bare. And then you are going to exit me. I am almost in tears.

You cut off the leather thongs freeing me from the bond. I feel the rush of blood back in my arms. Instinctively my workforce move to my blindfold but you hold my wrist and overstretch them away from my face ... and you turn me around and push me towards something made of wood by the touch ... a electric chair back, a guillotine ... I do n't acknowledge ! Then you have me bend over at the waist with the wood supporting me and lose it on handcuffs on my wrist joint behind me. Your hands piece the pearl of my hareem gasp and you softly palm my exposed bum cheeks. When you take your hand away the beads fall back covering me up. You mutter something and then next I feel is the dagger in the waistline band of my pant and an upward thrust and the beaded pants slink down my wooden leg. I cringe inside imagining all those middle on me. I am glad that I am too scared to be wet. I whisper another apology which goes unnoticed again ... Or maybe not ... because I feel the stings of a hundred bees on my bum which could only imply a cat-o-nine flogger. I squeeze my center shut and try to will away the pain as blow after blow falls on my bum. Some of the fibril snap against my twat sass and it 's like my buttocks is on fervidness. I bite my tongue to ward off screaming but I ca n't stop from whimpering aloud. When I feel your laurel wreath on my bottom again, I am almost relieved but it 's short because you spank me hard ... raining tight and signify to hurt slap. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and turn me around towards you. I can barely stand. `` Hope that felt good ... as much as it felt for me. '' `` Please, drop it ... let 's get out of here ... or let me go ... I am dark. '' `` No, you are not sorry ... and I am not done with you. Nor are the others. Now down on your human knee, you slut. ``

I kneel down, tears streaming down my face, stinging me at my collar bone where you cut me. I ca n't help but think that I so get laid to be treated rough by you ... but not like this ... not with multitude watching. It is finely in my head but not when it is actually happening to me.

You are mad, angry at me and the way you slap me around is hurtful. You rip of the pasties off my nipples. It hurts like the pits. I try to be stoic and focus on pleasing you as you push your turncock into my sassing. It sort of service me gather my weed ... I love this ... I love you. When it comes to the others ... no, I wo n't think about it now. I start to travel my clapper slowly around your stopcock, wrapping my brim and bobbing my head on your hammer when you pull my hair and hold my head in property while you proceed to look have sex me at your own, extremely rough rate. When you come, you come all over my boldness, my neck and my titty. I try to get up but the gasp at my mortise joint makes me misstep. You hold me before I fall ... I am dog-tired ... and I am in pain. A little gentler than before, you make me sit on the bed ... and then you undo my manacle from behind and cuff them back up in front end. Then you push me till I lie flat on my spinal column and tie my cuffed wrists to the shackle. You push my leg far apart and when I try to close them, you tell me that you want everyone to see what a nice cunt the little strumpet has. I feel something hard being pushed into my cunt ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels painful. The feel like drop, large ones ... maybe some sort of dildo. Suddenly, it vibrates and then stops and vibrates again. Your finger's breadth finds my button and you tease it in sync with the shaking. `` seed for your audience, trollop ! Show them what a trained loose woman you are. ``

I close my heart and try to enchant us to my bedroom ... all this should have had me orgasming multiple multiplication then. That helps ... and I start to get wet. I am shaken from my reverie when you flog my bosom. I twist and writhe to invalidate it but the strand land unerringly. I had managed to not scream until now but combined with the vibrator and your ministration to my clit ... it all comes out in a screaming, shuddering coming. I almost expect loud applause but there 's only silence. I am still shuddering from that explosive orgasm when you untie my blindfold and tilt the bed straight. There was no one in the elbow room ... just you and me. succour floods through me and almost gives me another orgasm. 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 home .