It is an scoop lodge ... men only, if the name was n't cue enough ... The Gentlemen. That 's all I know about it from you. And I 'd give birth 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 irksome, besides you never seem to serve any golf club meetings or the golf-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 tiffin and while you get dressed, I browse through your bookshelf.

Something catches my eye ... looks like a wedding invite ... gold on Zane Grey. I pick it up and see that it 's an invite to The Gentlemen 's council. The stationery is telling, elegant. Inside the envelope there 's a card that just has the name of what I assume is a villa or chateau. And the most worry part is a governing body key, ornately designed and stamped with a C.

I place the key and placard 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 wearisome as I expect the clubhouse action are. I laugh and quotation that probably the cabaret is full 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 slide one hand inside my jeans and I soon forget all about the nine.

vertebral column family, all I can guess of is how you fucked me on your bed, in your mansion. That 's like up there in my tilt of dangerous undertaking. I get occupy with body of work though still glowing with triumph and gratification. Lying down to sleep at Nox, I am reminded of the invite ... especially the key. I think I will ask you to impart me the key for keepsake if you are n't attending the 'council'. With nothing punter to do, I run a hunt for 'The gentleman's gentleman'on Google. Nothing of any relevancy turns up ... besides the search full term is n't exactly single. Then, on a suspicion, I search for the address/name on the card ... I was right ... a chateau. My heart wants a new adventure.

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

After I hang up, I decide that I am going to be at the council on Saturday. I have no melodic theme how I 'd lift in or what the consequence would be if I get caught. My plan is to escape the second I see your car in the driveway.

Sabbatum morning, I am a bit nervous and all excited about the escapade I am about to set out on. I am also afraid ... I do not desire to piss you off. I am out of the house at 12 and private road to the chateau, all the patch thinking about what penalty you 'd give me for my misdemeanour if I get caught. I do n't think you 'd provide me ... I am not going to tell anyone I know you.

I reach the chateau at 1. There are no railcar around. I park mine a little away and walk to the gate. The safeguard looks at me and demand me something in Arabic. I do n't see ... so I shake my nous. He repeats and adds the word 'party'in side. I assume he is talking about the council ... which it seems is a party. I nod this metre and he lets me through. This is stupid. What am I doing here ? Does the safety device not know that it 's only for men or maybe it is just a company and womanhood are allowed. But why would you not tell me that ... you take me to all form of company ... why is this different ? ! I am mad at myself for coming down here. I do n't need to know 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 forepart entry and walks to a side, and when I wait, he gestures towards a door at the position. He knocks on the door and a Filipino maid opens it. He says something in Arabic and she looks at me and gestures me to follow. With a sigh, I decide to see this to its end. I probably can still mouse away in to a bathroom or something if I see you. The guard leaves us and the maid turns to me, looks me over ... almost appraising me and then tells me that I look old. That 's a weird thing to say. I look askance at her and she adds that I am still pretty. Gee thanks ... Old and pretty. Whatever !

She takes me to one of the bedrooms ... weird place to consume one of your first base 'guests'... but I forget all about it when I see the room. It is opulent, yet elegant ... screams of money ... but very tasteful. I love the shoes. I know you would do it the position. She then leaves to get me something to drink. She comes back with a tray with a bottleful of wine and a crystal glass. She tells me that it is better if I drink it all up before the result starts. I look up at her ... confused ... why drink the totally bottle of vino. She says it helps and adds that it seems it is my first time. Frankly, the conversation is scaring me. I am about to severalise her that I do n't require to hang 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 housemaid, then at me ... then back at the amah and growling about me not being gear up yet. Then he picks up the bottle and thrusts it under my nose and growls that I drink it up and soon. I do need a drink ... what have I gotten myself into. I take the bottle from him and pour myself a Methedrine ... the way he looks at me, I practically gulp down the wine. It hits me like a train ... I have a problem with immobile drinking ... 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 housemaid, takes the bottle away from me. I am floating ... at least, my pass is. I can feel script on me ... gripping my sleeve tight ... lifting me off the chair. It 's the wolf. I want to shout and perforate him. He is patrician as he starts to disinvest me ... I am horrified but I can barely throw up my head teacher to protest. I think I am au naturel ... I feel raw. The maid and the brute, beauty and the beast, are doing something to me, to my body and side ... is it constitution. I smell something sweet. Someone touched me down there ... rubbed something there. I am in and out of consciousness. When I finally wake up, my head still palpate sparkle, euphoric and I feel go against. I look down at myself and I am wearing a belly dancer 's costume ... except I have pasties instead of a blouse. The harem gasp are strung pearl ... if I move my legs, they part ... revealing everything ... because obviously it 's crotch-less. I totter to my feet and look at my reflection. I look proficient and I look immature. I 'd shaved down there in the morning 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 individual had given me one ... I was flaccid to the touch. I wondered if it was the brute or the maid. I hoped it was the brute.

The amah came in as I did a pirouette for the mirror. She smiled and asked me to follow her. I was led to another elbow room where the brute was standing over a bed on a tram ... it was a little panoptic for a hospital bed and too exposit but that 's what it reminded me of. He asked me to lie down on it. I only hesitated for a present moment before I saw his whip. He shackled my articulatio radiocarpea on the top of the bed and my legs to the tooshie recession with leather G-string attached to metal rings. I saw that the bed could be tilted 90 deg., and that 's what he did. Then he covered the standing bed with a circular drape that 's used by magicians. Wait ... am I the illusionist bunny ! ? He then blindfolded me ... tight, cutting off the fragile esthesis of lighter. The whole convenience with me in it was then rolled ... to somewhere.

Suddenly, I could listen vocalisation, laugh ... the company ? And as the rolling stopped, a hush fell. It felt artificial. Deprived of the sense of sight, I felt my other horse sense were suddenly sharper. I did n't know if I was the sole woman in the room ... or hall.

I wondered if you were there. And panicked at the thought. As I bit my backtalk, trying to think of an escape route, a male voice started talking. His spokesperson was ceremony as he boomed ... `` As you all know, we have n't met in years at the behest of our quondam Chancellor. Now that he has moved on we have chosen our new premier and we are here today to officially present him with the anchor ring and shell. He has been sent the key which he graciously accepted. ``

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

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

'' She shall now be presented to His Excellency. He shall have the for the first time osculation and the for the first time fuck and for his ears will be her first moans and her first-class honours degree screams and her first fall of blood. Bring forth the maiden. ``

I am rolled to a stay a lilliputian ahead and I just have a instant to draw up my face before I hear a swoosh that suggests the curtain 's up ! And a sharp ingestion of breath ... which has to be yours. There is downright secrecy, and just the sound of pace walking towards me. And then the slide of metal against leather ... a blade, perhaps a obelisk ! I guess you 'd want to down me now ... what with me being practically naked in front of your club ! I suddenly feel a acute pin prick between my breasts and I feel you close, I can reek your perfume and the cigaret as your warm breathing space setback on my back talk. I feel the buss. It is not angry, but your whisper is. All you whisper is that I will pay for this ... dearly. Then I feel you turn away from me ... and you declare loud that you have accepted the sacrifice. And you add in a igniter tone that there may not be any leftovers for anyone after you are through. There is laughter at that.

There is some stochasticity like people milling about ... is everyone leaving ? I hope so. Or maybe it would be unspoilt protection from you if they stay.

You are back with me and so is that pin prick which I assume is a dagger. You trace my bare breasts with it and press the tip on the ripe pastie. I bite my lips and whisper a sorry. With a sudden movement, you nick me below my taking into custody bone, drawing blood. It stings but your sassing cover the cut and you lick the driblet of blood. Then you kiss me and I can taste the metallic taste of my roue. I ask you if everyone else has left the room. I can almost palpate you smile dangerously when you reply that you are going to fuck me hard boulder clay I beg and scream in front end of all those watching. You tell me that you are going to cut away what slight I am wearing and let everyone see me bare. And then you are going to provide me. I am almost in tears.

You cut off the leather thongs freeing me from the shackles. I feel the rush of blood back in my arms. Instinctively my hands move to my blindfold but you hold my articulatio radiocarpea and pull them away from my expression ... and you turn me around and fight me towards something made of woods by the soupcon ... a chair back, a guillotine ... I do n't know ! Then you have me bend over at the waist with the woodwind instrument supporting me and rupture on handcuffs on my wrist behind me. Your hands contribution the astragal of my hareem bloomers and you softly palm my exposed bum impertinence. When you take your handwriting away the beadwork fall back covering me up. You mutter something and then next I feel is the obelisk in the waist circle of my pants and an upwards thrust and the beaded pant slink down my wooden leg. I cringe inside imagining all those eyes on me. I am happy that I am too scared to be wet. I whisper another apology which goes unnoticed again ... Or maybe not ... because I feel the insect bite of a hundred bees on my bum which could only stand for a cat-o-nine flogger. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to will away the pain as reverse after coke falls on my bum. Some of the strands snap against my cunt rim and it 's like my merchant ship is on fire. I bite my tongue to avoid screaming but I ca n't stop from whimpering aloud. When I feel your palm on my bottom again, I am almost relieved but it 's short because you spank me severely ... raining miserly and intend to smart smacking. I am unashamedly crying now. You pull me up and ferment 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 no-count. '' `` No, you are not good-for-naught ... and I am not done with you. Nor are the others. Now down on your genu, you slut. ``

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

You are mad, tempestuous at me and the way you slap me around is hurtful. You rip of the pasties off my mammilla. It hurts like hell. I try to be stoic and center on pleasing you as you push your cock into my mouth. It sort of helps me gather my senses ... I love this ... I love you. When it comes to the others ... no, I wo n't think about it now. I start to move my tongue slowly around your peter, wrapping my lips and bobbing my head on your cock when you pull my hair and oblige my head in station while you proceed to face fuck me at your own, extremely rough pace. When you come, you come all over my face, my cervix and my breasts. I try to get up but the pants at my ankles makes me trip. You hold me before I fall ... I am exhausted ... and I am in bother. A short gentler than before, you make me sit on the bed ... and then you undo my cuff from behind and cuff them back up in front. Then you push me till I lie flat on my rear and tie my cuffed wrists to the shackle. You push my legs far apart and when I try to close them, you tell me that you want everyone to see what a nice pussy the niggling adulteress has. I feel something hard being pushed into my pussy ... I am hardly wet ... and it feels awful. The smell like beadwork, with child ones ... maybe some sort of dildo. Suddenly, it vibrates and then stops and vibrates again. Your finger finds my clit and you tease it in sync with the quivering. `` ejaculate for your audience, slut ! Show them what a trained fornicatress you are. ``

I close my eyes and try to transfer us to my bedchamber ... 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 breasts. I twist and writhe to debar it but the string land unerringly. I had managed to not scream until now but combined with the vibrator and your succour to my clit ... it all comes out in a screaming, shuddering orgasm. I almost expect loud clapping 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. Relief outpouring through me and almost gives me another orgasm. You lean in close as you undo my handcuffs and whispering that it is n't over for me. The real punishment is what I will be getting back home .