0 comments/  89284 views/  20 favorites

An Unwilling Submission

By: krr1957



This story deals with themes of female domination including reluctant sexual participation. If you think you may be offended please try another story.

Chapter 1

There were two uniformed guards on the gate and I could tell from the smirks on their faces that they knew.

The man was huge, not someone to be argued with, and he dwarfed his female companion. She looked too pretty for the job and her uniform was, perhaps, a little tighter than it needed to be.

They made me turn out my pockets but there was little to show; car keys, wallet, mobile phone and a spiral bound note pad. The instructions had been very specific. No recording devices; everything to be written down the old fashioned way.

The man asked me to raise my arms before patting me down very professionally. When he checked inside my legs he felt it and he turned to his partner theatrically. "Well what do we have here? I think you'd better check this out."

I bit my tongue and let them have their laugh. The woman knelt in front of me, her face level with my crotch, and she traced the same path up the inside of my legs. When she reached the top she patted the front of my trousers and then squeezed a little to determine the shape. "A regular iron man."

Her colleague now made no attempt to hide his amusement and laughed as he ushered me through the arch of the metal detector which beeped its inevitable warning.

I retrieved my belongings, with what little was left of my dignity, and as I made the short walk to the house, I reminded myself that, if I got this right, it could be a career defining moment.

A discrete CCTV camera checked me out as I rang the bell and then the door was opened for me by "DeeDee" herself. She was as stunning in the flesh as she was in the few photographs on the press files. She was only three or four inches short of my own six foot plus and the rumours that she had started out as a prospective model were probably well founded.

I knew that she was somewhere in her mid twenties but her strictly business-like demeanour made her look more mature. Her make-up was impeccable and her blonde hair was expensively styled. The short, loose, curls framed her face perfectly setting off her natural South African tan.

As she led the way through the house I tried to curb my lustful thoughts by remembering that this woman held a masters degree from Yale and, at a guess, was probably earning at least ten times more than me. 

She showed me into a day room with full height windows presenting a beautiful vista. The centrepiece of the ornamental gardens was a towering fountain which was fed under natural pressure from the lake than shone in the distance. 

There was no small talk. She took a seat at the edge of the room and opened a laptop as if I was not there. For my part I idly examined the various objets d'arts that adorned the impressive fireplace and speculated on their value.

A moment or two later the door to an adjoining room opened and Vetris entered. I had prepared for this moment but I was still in danger of being awestruck. She had clearly come straight from the gym. She wore a simple cropped top and track bottoms but I also noted her footwear. Where I might have expected a designer brand she was sporting an expensive but functional pair of trainers preferred by professional athletes. She was perspiring a little and had a towel around her neck but she was still achingly beautiful. Depending on what you believed she was now nearly forty but she was still one of the most popular musicians in the world. 

She was a stark contrast to her personal assistant. Somewhere, in the not too distant past, she had some Levantine blood in her veins and this was evident in her sultry dark colouring and her famous curves. She had never married and rumours abounded that she was involved in a lesbian relationship with DeeDee but this was at odds with some of the very high profile men with whom she had been linked.

She gave me a cool, clinical, appraisal without inviting me to take a seat and she made me conscious of myself in a way that was not normally a problem. I work on my physique and have, what I am told, are cheeky good looks. I have certainly used them to my advantage at different times in my career but she made me feel like just another pretty thing. 

"I will allow you fifteen minutes, no more, and I reserve the right to review and edit your copy before it goes to print." "Agreed" What else could I say? She had not conducted a one to one interview in living memory and here was I, a relative nobody, on the verge of the scoop.

A slight smile played over her full lips which, even without the benefit of makeup, oozed seductiveness. "Well, let's see the proof."

This was the moment I had dreaded. I moved closer so that she could reach out and touch but I hoped that she would be too fastidious. I suspected that she already knew, from her security team, that I had kept up my side of the bargain.

"I said I want to see it." There was a slight edge to her voice and, for an instant, my pride almost made me refuse but I had come too far to back out now. I cast a glance at DeeDee but, despite the apparent bizarreness of the situation, she still seemed engrossed in her laptop. 

I felt myself blush as I unbuttoned the new Levi's that I had bought in honour of the occasion and pulled them down a little way. 

"...and the pants." I was wearing white Calvin Kleins and they were tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination but she was not to be denied. I eased them down to reveal my imprisoned manhood.

I am fairly well endowed but the clear acrylic tube somehow made me look less impressive. Fortunately, my embarrassment got the better of me and arousal was out of the question.

"DeeDee, you need to come and see this." I felt my cheeks redden. I had played out this scenario in my mind a number of times but I had always assumed that Vetris and I would be alone. Her assistant rose unhurriedly and walked across the room. She looked at the tube with barely concealed amusement. 

"It looks a little tight. Is it painful?" There was no point in lying. "It can be."

She seemed to think about this and brought her hand up to her throat. She was wearing a tailored, charcoal, jacket over a crisp cotton blouse and, as I watched, her fingers found the top button. With studied deliberation she undid it and then proceeded to unfasten two more.

I was favoured with a view of the curve of her breast and a teasing glimpse of a lacy bra. Under normal circumstances I might have found this mildly titillating but the situation was far from normal. Knowing that she had deliberately set out to create an effect I found myself unwillingly aroused.

I felt my manhood trying to unfurl followed by the painful cramping that I had become familiar with over the course of the past seventy-two hours. She saw me wince and she responded by steepling her fingers to reveal just a little more of her smooth amber skin. 

"You're making him over excited. I think we'd better get on with it." DeeDee smiled and readjusted her clothing before going back to her laptop. I, for my part, did up my trousers and sat down opposite Vetris.

"Okay, where would you like to start?" For the next quarter of an hour I scribbled shorthand as she answered my questions. On the face of it they were innocuous but I tried to tease from her something new, something that was not already in the public domain. She proved stubbornly resistant and I did not help my own cause by constantly trying to steal glances at her all too desirable body. 

As my time ran out I felt dissatisfied but just the fact of the interview and the promise of a photograph of the pair of us to mark the occasion would guarantee a huge amount of kudos.

Vetris cast a glance at the mantel clock. "I think our time is up." She must have registered my disappointment because she leaned forward with her entwined fingers beneath her chin. There was a pregnant pause before she broke the silence. "What if I were to give you a real story? Not just something for your music paper, something exclusive that you could sell to the tabloids. What would you be prepared to do?"

My heart beat faster. This was something I had only dreamed about. I laughed nervously as I replied. "Short of murder, pretty much anything."

She smiled, but there was something in her eyes, something I could not quite fathom. "DeeDee, come over here." She came and stood between us towering over me as I remained seated. "Is there anything that you would like him to do for you?"

She seemed to ponder the question as she looked down at me. "He has a nice mouth, very kissable lips." I was taken aback. Was she suggesting that the price I would have to pay would be a kiss? At any other time I would have jumped at the opportunity but now there was Dominique to consider. We had not known each other long but there was no doubt that I had feelings for her.

Vetris sat back in her seat. "Why don't you try him?" Being spoken about as if I was merely an object rankled with me but I tried not to let it show. 

DeeDee turned to face me...and then my mouth went dry. Without taking her eyes from mine she reached for the fastening of her skirt. She flicked it open and then slowly unwound it from her hips.

My immediate thought was that she had spectacular legs. She was not wearing hose and why should she? They were smooth, beautifully tanned, and within a couple of heartbeats I was suffering the pains of a thwarted erection.

The animal in me wanted to put her across the chair and take her with all the anger of my pent up frustration but, for that to happen, the tube had to be removed. This was tempered by the more rational part of my mind which could see that I was being used.

As the different influences vied for supremacy I was left staring at her underwear. Outwardly, her clothing was consummately professional but her panties would not have looked out of place in a brothel. 

They were made of very fine pink silk and I was guessing that they were commensurately expensive but what struck me was the spreading patch of dampness that was discolouring them.

Almost instinctively my nostrils twitched and I caught the scent of her arousal which only served to send more blood pumping south with the inevitable outcome.

My hand went to my groin as the pain grew but she seemed determined to add to my misery. She teased her panties down her legs and then stepped out of them. 

She stood with her legs slightly apart inviting my appraisal and my eyes were drawn to her sex. She had a smooth mound with a neat slit surmounted by a razor cut triangle of blonde hair. 

She was also sporting a tattoo and it took a second or two to make sense of it. It was a small, finely worked, representation of a springbok and it was inked in such a way that it appeared to be grazing on the light growth.

It took an effort to tear my eyes away but when I did it was to find Vetris was looking at me with a mocking smile. "She's beautiful isn't she?"

These women moved in a world that was slightly surreal at the best of times but they looked frighteningly at ease with the situation and I was left a little unnerved. DeeDee stepped towards me. Still in her high heels and half dressed she, nevertheless, still exuded sex appeal. 

I was at a loss. Was it all a joke? Would they suddenly laugh and then send me away? I started to get up, to try and re-establish my physical presence if nothing else, but she put a hand lightly on the top of my head. "Stay there. You're going to eat me."

Her casual self assurance was alarming but, at the same time, it resonated with something deep in my psyche. My manhood tried to lurch from its cage and I gasped through gritted teeth.

I was just inches from her sex and now certain that she had applied perfume to the inside of her thighs. It was redolent of exotic orchids but it perfectly complemented her natural scent. It was a heady mix and I knew that if I did not act quickly I would be totally ensnared.

As if reading my mind Vetris spoke again. "The Prideau affair...I can let you have a photograph" If anything was guaranteed to get my attention that was it. The Prideau trial had been all over the news for weeks; if she had a photograph that could be used to contradict the outcome it would be gold dust. 

I looked at her not knowing which question to ask first but she forestalled me. "Make it nice for DeeDee and we'll talk about it afterwards." 

I still felt guilty about Dominique but this was not an opportunity that I could afford to forsake. I was even prepared to overcome my mild aversion to oral sex. DeeDee let her hand slip to the back of my head and applied a gentle but insistent pressure. 

I allowed myself to be drawn in until my lips touched her sex. There was a forbidding firmness about it but I presented my tongue and gave a first tentative lick. 

The initial taste was unexpectedly sharp and I recoiled a little but her hand kept me firmly in place. I tried again, this time using the flat of my tongue to trace a path along the whole length of her sex. "That's nice. Keep it up."

I fell into a slow rhythm licking repeatedly and I was rewarded as her sex began to swell. "Not bad...but try a little harder."

I could now feel her labia beneath my tongue and there was an increased warmth and wetness. Her goading angered me a little but I kept to my task and applied a little more pressure.

"Good boy..." My tongue slipped through the portal with surprising ease and my nostrils were immediately assailed by her rich pungency. The next breath I took drew it deep into my lungs which immediately clamoured for a fresher draught of air but my tongue was held fast. "Breathe it in...tell me how nice it is."

There was something about her words that suggested a worrying degree of experience and understanding. I had taken another half dozen breaths before she relented a little and allowed herself to relax. "Let's see how deep you can get it."

I thought that I had reached my limit, not least because my awkward stance was putting a strain on my neck, but I made the effort and felt my tongue gain a few more millimetres. 

"Well done. Taste me...is it the best you've ever had?" I realized, just then, that this was not so much about any pleasure taking on her part but was more an exercise in ritual humiliation.

Deep inside I encountered a well of moisture. It was heated, zesty, and it broke over my tongue like a wave. By choice, my experience was limited but there was nothing exceptional about her particular taste. It was just that her whole demeanour in some way reinforced it.

"Let me hear you swallow." I had little choice. Her flow had increased quickly and I had to do as she asked else gag. She showed no emotion, save her continued amusement, but her arousal could be measured in thimblefuls. 

My tongue was tiring, not helped as she squeezed playfully from time to time, but she was ready for more. "You know what to do next...don't you?" 

I was only too grateful to hurry things along and I tried to use my fingers to reveal her clitoris but she slapped my hand away. "You don't touch me...just your mouth and tongue."

I fought down my increasing fury and brought my mouth to the apex of her sex. For some irrational reason I expected her to have a large clitoris but it proved to be both discrete and deep set. I probed with the tip of my tongue and, as I found my objective, her mask slipped for the first time.

She gave a muted hum of delight and held my head just a little tighter to keep me on station. As I worked my tongue slowly I felt the tiny pearl swell free of its fleshy collar and her body began to shiver gently. "That's nice...how is it for you?"

Up until that moment I had given my own situation no thought but she spoke with a sexy huskiness that acted directly on my libido. Normally, I would only go down on a girl on sufferance as a hasty prelude to full blooded carnality and now my manhood was making itself felt. The renewed pain was like a kick to the groin and I groaned into her sex. 

This was the final stimulus that she needed. She stiffened for a moment and then her hips jerked in a series of barely controlled spasms. She held me close as she rode it out pummelling my face and smearing it with moisture.

When it was over she retrieved her panties and used them to wipe herself clean. Smiling, she then slipped them into the breast pocket of my shirt where the dampness immediately went through to my skin. "A little something to remember me by."

I was tempted to throw them away in disgust but the damage was already done and I watched as she refastened her skirt. Summoning as much disdain as I could I turned away from her and spoke to Vetris. "The photograph?"

She looked across at DeeDee who was now sitting in front of her laptop. "Show him." She turned the screen, inviting me to come and look, and I felt faint. 

The screen was split. To the left was an image of Prideau which, if it could be verified, would make me an awful lot of money. On the right was a high definition video clip showing DeeDee's look of ecstasy at the moment I brought her to orgasm.

Chapter 2 

That same evening Dominique came round to my flat for dinner which, in itself, was a new development for me. I could hardly remember the last time I had invited a girl home for anything more than a one night stand.

We had only met ten days earlier but she had already gotten under my skin. She was a freelance journalist and she had walked into the office looking for commissions to review London gigs.

Don, our editor, almost fell over himself to make an impression and I cannot say that I blamed him. If I had to use one word to describe her it would be elfin; she was a young Audrey Heburn with attitude.

She wore a simple skirt that emphasised her youthful legs and a tight tee-shirt over unfettered breasts. The slightly slutty look was moderated by her large, innocent, eyes and her very short sculpted hair which leant her face an almost angelic countenance. I was surprised to find that she was, in fact, twenty four years old 

Don, kept her chatting for nearly an hour but I knew full well that he had nothing to offer her. The magazine was in dire straits and he was freeloading while Rome burned.

On her way out she introduced herself and flattered me by telling me that she had read my stuff. She asked if I was going to the Madonna gig that evening and It was with some embarrassment that I had to confess that I was not. Word of the company's financial predicament was getting out and the complimentary invitations were drying up.

She shocked me by producing two back stage passes and asked me if I would like to go. She was intending to produce a review and sell it to the highest bidder. Sadly, her only stipulation was that I did not produce a resulting piece for my own magazine. I guess that she had seen through Don from the outset.

It was a wonderful evening and she seemed at ease amongst the big names back stage. She accepted my invitation to a Chinese afterwards and, unusually, I did not try it on with her but, instead, invited her for a drink the following evening.

We met up almost very night after that. She made it clear that she wanted to take things slowly and, for the first time in my life, I was happy to go along with it.

It was a week later that we talked about ambition. I confessed that I would like to edit my own music magazine or, better still, produce a music review programme for TV. She asked how I intended to promote myself and I was at a bit of loss.

I said that if I could get a couple of big scoops, to raise my profile and some cash, it would be a good start. It was then that we talked about the difficulties of getting interviews with the big names. She suggested that I should ignore the legends and look at the current crop. That brought up the name of Vetris and the mystique that surrounded her.


An Unwilling Submission



I laughed as I dictated the text of a pathetic begging letter that I would send her but Dominique took it more seriously. She said I should try and tune into Vetris's psyche. 

Her latest album was "Urban Primitive" and explored body art and piercing as a metaphor for abuse. I laughingly suggested that I get a tattoo of Vetris's name and offer to let her see it but Dominique came up with a far more novel approach.

The album cover, banned by some of the larger retail chains, featured an older man with a variety of piercings wearing nothing but a metal chastity tube. She suggested that I contact Vetris and volunteer to put myself into chastity. I would send her the key so that only she could release me when the time came to interview her.

The idea was absolutely absurd but it was so far off the wall it might just be brilliant. After that the whole thing came together so quickly that it made my head spin. Dominique did some research and came up with an acrylic chastity tube whereupon I wrote to Vetris's people more in hope than expectation. 

The following morning, Saturday, a courier called at the flat and delivered a package. It offered an interview three days hence on condition that I used the padlock which was enclosed to lock myself up.

This was a development that I had not foreseen but the message was clear. I had ten minutes to return the keys to the courier or the offer lapsed. I immediately had second thoughts but Dominique talked me round. I had already tried the tube out of curiosity and so it was an easy matter to slip it on in the privacy of the bathroom. 

The padlock, which was clearly not a chain store item, was less simple. It was small and neat, finished in matt silver. In order to lock it the key had to be turned a number of times so that the shackle was slowly drawn into the body of the lock. Once closed, it was fixed tight making tampering extremely difficult. 

I felt ludicrous as I handed the key over but I told myself it was only seventy-two hours besides which Dominique had intimated that, if the interview went well, she would be willing to go to bed with me.

In the event it felt like the longest three days of my life. Dominique took every opportunity to tease me playfully, mainly by flaunting her desirable body, but it seemed that my mind turned to sex at every available opportunity. Even middle aged women that I saw in the street, usually not worth a second glance, suddenly assumed an unexpected allure.

The device itself created difficulties. I could keep myself clean but I had to sit when I went to the toilet and the padlock added enough weight to keep me constantly aware of its presence. 

Now, as Dominique finished her meal, I had to break the news. "...she gave me a photograph that could turn out to be worth a lot of money and she wants to see me again a week from now. She's promised me something equally explosive but she had a price..."

From the quizzical look on Dominique's face I feared that she thought I was getting into something underhand but when I told her she burst out laughing. "She's making you stay locked up for another week!"

By the time she recovered she was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes but then she put her hand on mine. "I was really looking forward to this evening...is there any way?" The instant pain in my groin made me realize just how hard a bargain I had struck. I had checked the fittings any number of times but, without the sophisticated key, there was no way to remove the thing without breaking it altogether and that presupposed that it could be done without hurting myself in the process.

I brought coffee through to the living room and we settled on the sofa. As we listened to a little Ella Fitzgerald she snuggled up to me and I started to kiss her. It was a sustained embrace but then, to my surprise, she slipped her hand inside my shirt. 

Without thought I reached my hand to her breast and, unlike previous evenings, she made no move to prevent it. Fired by this success, and with our mouths still joined, I reached behind her back and deftly slipped the clasp of her bra.

She immediately broke from me and I cursed myself for my impatience but, with an impish smile, she took off her tee shirt. For a few teasing seconds she held her opened bra to her chest but then, with the panache of a burlesque performer, she cast it aside.

Her breasts were as beautiful as I had pictured them. She was modestly endowed but they were delightfully rounded and her nipples were perfectly uplifted circles. She knew the power of her body and she let me feast my eyes for a few seconds before she drew my head to her chest. 

Her nipple was chocolate brown, contrasting with her dusky Southern European complexion, and, as I took it into my mouth it began to engorge. I tried to ignore the aching reminder from my manhood as I ran my tongue around the rigid teat and explored the heavy dimples that surrounded it.

She indulged me for a few moments but then she encouraged me to pay court to her other breast. As I left one glistening nipple for the other I could appreciate just how erect it had become. It was no wonder that men were forever staring at her chest.

I suckled and teased both nipples to equal prominence but I wanted to ease off as the pain of frustration grew more appreciable. I sat up and put my arm around her shoulders but she slinked away from me and whispered. "Wait..."

She stood up and held my eye as she unfastened her jeans and wriggled out of them. I should have told her to stop but, as she stood in just her panties, I was enraptured.

Her body was perfectly proportioned and her legs were nicely honed by the hours that she spent in the gym. She stepped closer and held the side of my face against the flat of her stomach as she stroked my hair. "Will you make it special for me?"

As she said it she moved just a little so that my face slipped down to her panties. They were simple white cotton but what surprised me was the slight cushion of hair that I could feel.

She took my head between her hands and gently nuzzled my face into her crotch. She was already aroused and the slight pressure was enough to moisten the material. "Lick me..."

It seemed that she wanted me to lick her through her panties, something that would normally hold no appeal whatsoever, but, for a few seconds, I was lost in madness. With a broad sweep of my tongue I took in her whole pubis. 

It was obvious, from the outset, that she had worn them for much of the day and I would venture to guess that this was not the first time she had become aroused in the past few hours.

I suppose I should have been flattered but I had to struggle to overcome the initial bitter tang. Fortunately, as I continued with my ministrations, the material quickly became sodden and the taste grew fresher. 

My initial enthusiasm quickly began to wane but she was murmuring appreciatively and so I continued notwithstanding the fact that the wet cotton was not easy on my tongue. 

When, at last, she released her grip on my head I hoped that I had done enough but she had ideas of her own. "Let me get comfortable."

She shimmied out of her panties and, without a hint of embarrassment, sat back down with her legs opened wide.

I regard myself as a man of experience but the sudden transformation from shy wallflower to a woman who knows exactly what she wants put me a little off balance. 

For a few seconds I remained frozen but then she broke the trance. "Kneel down, silly..." The intimation that I did not know what to do, albeit very light-hearted, rankled somewhat but her smile was infectious and I got down on my knees. 

Her sex was highlighted by a neat, narrow, strip of dark hair. The tight, wet, curls shone under the lights and formed a contrast to her pink tinged labia which nestled within.

I wanted to make her feel good, not because I felt that I owed it to her, but because I wanted it to be memorable. As this thought was formed it jarred me a little; I had never shown a woman quite so much consideration. 

Even with my new found resolve I found it difficult to begin. I stalled by kissing my way slowly up her inner thigh but she perceived this as a show of devotion rather than reluctance on my part. "That's sweet..."

As I reached the edge of her mons I began to catch her essence and, for the first time that I could remember, I breathed in deeply trying to imprint the uniqueness of her. 

Unconsciously or otherwise she reacted to this by brushing her fingers lightly over her sex seeding the air with her musky fragrance. Drawn ever deeper I put out my tongue and grazed the fringes of her labia. She gasped at this first contact and held her breath.

Emboldened by this apparent success I continued to trail my tongue slowly up and down trying to keep my touch as light as possible. This was clearly to her liking as she relaxed more deeply into the sofa and closed her eyes. 

From my vantage point she looked truly beautiful as her breasts languidly rose and fell but in so thinking I felt a new pang of discomfort. She must have sensed this because her eyes immediately opened. "Does it hurt? You can stop...if you really want to."

I was touched by her self sacrifice but I could not deny her. I pressed my tongue a little more deeply and experienced my first true taste. It was richer than I might have imagined and I wondered, for the briefest instant, if I could live with this and no other.

"Let me feel you inside..." Her words unwittingly caused more pain as I imagined myself slipping deep inside her but for now all I had to offer was my tongue. Fitting the deed to the word I began to thrust slowly and I felt the walls of her sex contracting with a sympathetic rhythm.

"Don't stop..." The spirit was willing but after a few minutes the toll began to tell. My tongue ached with the effort and I had to rest. I came to a stop with my tongue still inside and she stroked my head. "Take a break for a minute, then you can try again."

It that brief time it had become uncomfortably warm. Her thighs were glossed with perspiration, her sex super heated, and trapped in the midst of it all I was breathing hard and sweating freely. 

I had barely got my breath back before she squeezed me playfully with her thighs. "Don't go to sleep on me..."

I picked up where I had left off but this time less energetically and I found that she was much wetter. My tongue acted as a capillary feeding my mouth and I was swallowing frequently.

"With a little practise you could get good at this..." I looked up at this jibe but her smile was disarmingly innocent. I knew that she had had a number of lovers but now I found myself making comparisons and, in so doing, I began to try even harder.

Ignoring the protests of my neck and tongue I picked up the pace and she stretched her body leisurely. "Make me come..."

I hoped that this was a hint that she was close but minutes dragged by before her body began to quake. Even then it built slowly and I was nearly exhausted by the time a renewed surge of moisture heralded the onset.

After all my efforts I was disappointed with her reaction. This was no screaming climax but rather a slow melting which she greeted with little more than a reluctant sigh.

As to me, I could hardly move. It was amazing that my whole body seemed drained by the efforts I had made with my tongue but I remained on my knees as I tried to gather myself.

I was put in better spirits when she found her voice again. "That was lovely..." I smiled and prepared myself for a hug but I was brought up short "...now let's see if you can really make me come."

She opened her sex with her fingers revealing a vivid red wetness crowned with a proud clitoris which looked almost painfully swollen. For a few seconds the old me almost reasserted itself but I took a deep breath. 

Yes, she was being greedy but it was something I had brought on myself. Had I not made a pact with the devil I would have been able to show her the real lover I was capable of being.

Even now I was thinking of excuses but she knew how to prick my ego. "Show me how good you are..." Fortunately my manhood had long since given up its frustrated attempts at tumescence and so I only had my tender tongue to consider. It ached to the root but I presented it again and applied it to the firm bud.

She shivered at the first touch and leaked moisture recharging the atmosphere with the scent of her excitement. I proceeded gingerly, trying to spare my tongue as far as possible, but this seemed to her liking. The only problem was that it took her a long time to come back to the boil. 

At a guess I must have ministered to her for at least another half an hour. Every now and again she would encourage me to go a little lower to lap up her seepage but each time she brought me back to that tight bundle of nerves.

"Faster now..." Taking encouragement I did as she asked and her body tensed. She began to groan and then she was rocked by a series of irregular jerks that made it difficult to stay attached. 

I hoped that this orgasm was as satisfying as it was violent a hope that was borne out by the fact that she was left completely limp and gasping for breath.

I rejoined her on the sofa and took her hand. "Would you like to stay the night?" "Yes...I'd like that"

I knew, almost immediately, that it was a mistake. The warmth of her naked body, the smell of her skin even her gentle breathing all conspired to excite me and I repeatedly suffered the pain of a pinched erection. 

A couple of times she spooned up against me and her hand unconsciously toyed with my groin. This caused a pain sufficient to make me sit up and I almost gave up altogether and retired to the sofa. 

At some point I must have been overtaken by exhaustion because the next time I opened my eyes there was daylight streaming in through the curtains. It took a few seconds to order my befuddled thoughts and then I saw Dominique standing over me. "Morning sleepyhead."

She was sipping from a mug of coffee with just her tee shirt to cover her modesty and looked sexy as hell. My manhood acted in its normal Pavlovian fashion, only to be denied, but that was the least of my worries.

I own exactly four ties, and one of those a Christmas novelty item, and she had used them to bind my wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed. "Dominique, what's going on?"

She put the mug down, scooted up onto the bed, and lightly touched her finger to my nose. "You were really good last night...but..." I did not like the sound of that conjunction and waited for her to elucidate. "...you squirmed around so much." I was appalled by her seeming insensitivity. I had done my best under the circumstances and I thought I deserved more thanks for the painful sacrifice I had made in order to bring her pleasure. I bit my tongue and smiled. "Look, I'll see about getting this thing unlocked, she'll never know, and then I'll really show you what I can do. Just untie me and I'll fix some breakfast."

She took hold of the tie binding my wrist and idly ran it through her fingers. "That's a pity. I thought you might be a little more adventurous."

In fact, I had tried it a couple of times before and, I have to say, there is a particular excitement in having a woman tied down and being able to do anything one wished but, with the boot on the other foot, I hated being helpless. 

It was not that the women were rough with me, they had both been very imaginative, it was just that the total loss of control induced in me an almost overwhelming sense of panic.

Her fingers moved slowly towards the knot. "I thought we could trust one another...perhaps I was wrong." There was tiniest hint of petulance in her tone and, fearing that she was re-evaluating our relationship for the worse, I blurted my reply. "Of course I trust you, it's just that..."

I did not get to finish the sentence. She turned excitedly and, almost before I knew it, she had thrown a leg over me and was kneeling astride my face. 

"Really, there's no need for these..." As I said it I turned my head a little to indicate the bindings but she simply laughed. "I think there might be. We don't want you getting over excited. Just lie there and enjoy it."

With that she settled lightly onto my face bringing her sex to my mouth. Loathe as I was I decided that the best thing was to get it over and done with. I put out my tongue to find that she was both hot and very wet making me wonder how long she had been waiting and anticipating.

I was able to push inside with little effort and she held herself in such a way that I was encouraged to do all the work. After just a minute of two my tongue was reminding me of the exertions of the previous evening and so I proceeded cautiously but this leisurely approach met with her approval. 

Above me she closed her eyes and began to brush her nipples with her fingertips. From my subservient position I could appreciate, more than ever, just how remarkably distended they could become. 

As I laboured I forced myself to relax but, after several minutes, she showed no signs of increased arousal and she continued to hover over me with minimal effort.

I was getting very warm. I wanted it to be over and, to this end, I withdrew my tongue and sought out her clitoris. "Not yet...put it back inside."

I reluctantly did as she asked but, as I did so, a runnel of moisture flowed over my tongue to the back of my throat. I fought down the urge to gag and she pressed her thighs to the sides of my head. "Relax...show me that you can take it."

From then on she leaked continuously until my mouth was thick with the taste of her but that only added to the growing feeling of claustrophobia. The one plus was that my predicament seemed to make her more excited. Now it was she that adjusted her position so that her clitoris was presented.

Her hands were still teasing her breasts and so I had to part her labia with my tongue in order to comply but, such was her degree of arousal, that the plump bulb was easy to latch on to.

I pointed my tongue but she wanted more. "Suck me..." I lifted my head a little and pursed my lips around the apex of her sex. Having formed a seal I began to use my tongue in earnest and her response was immediate. She began to rock gently and allowed her weight to bear down on my face. 

I wanted to protest but her damp thighs pressed more insistently. She began to groan but I could barely hear as first sound and then vision were shut out. Her rocking motions were amplified until she was riding my whole face lubricated by an ever increasing flow of moisture. 

She was no great weight but the perfection of her backside was like a basketball made flesh as she bounced on me. Thankfully, she quickly rose to a climax and she remained still as the tremors grew in intensity.

Once over she rested on my face as the pleasure ebbed until she finally found the strength to roll away. 

She lay beside me and smiled. "God, you reek of me." I forced a smile in return but she was already getting back to her feet. "Are you going to untie me now?" "I'll be back in a minute...I'm taking the whole day off."

Chapter 3

Over the next few days her appetite for my tongue was almost insatiable. My annoyance grew but, in the final analysis, I only had myself to blame. I reached the point where I had made up my mind to return to Vetris and call off the deal but then matters came to a head.

I had quietly hawked the Prideau photograph around the newsrooms of the biggest dailies. I knew, only too well, how easy it was to produce a fake but the picture that Vetris had provided had one telling detail. 

In it Prideau was naked, on his knees, with his mouth filled with all that a brutal shaven haired thug had to offer. Given that he had won substantial libel damages by denying claims that he was cheating on his wife this could finish him off.




An Unwilling Submission



What set this picture apart was that it showed a long, irregular scar, running from his hip to his upper thigh. This identifying feature had never been mentioned during the trial and, in the hands of a judicious news editor, it could be spun to lethal effect. 

Because the photo was unsubstantiated, and would still need a degree of caution in its handling, I only had modest expectations about what it would fetch but when the offers started to come through I was pleasantly shocked.

It was clear that I was going to be receiving more than my whole year's salary just for this one photograph and dreams of setting up on my own now had a very solid foundation. 

Unfortunately, there was to be no immediate dividend from the Vetris interview. She did not want to be linked to the photograph in any way. I assured her that I would circulate it on an anonymous basis but she feared that my name would come out. She made me agree to withhold the interview, at least for a couple of months, until the brouhaha had died down.

I was desperate to make love to Dominique but if Vetris could vouchsafe me a second coup on anything like the same scale I could guarantee my independence. So it was that I decided to wait out the seven days in ever increasing misery.

When the phone call finally came it was not quite what I was expecting. DeeDee gave me an address and precise instructions. "Be at the house for seven o'clock. Do whatever they ask but make sure you have your telephone. Does it have a camera?"

I assured her that it did and she told me that I would know what to do. Having put down the phone I felt uneasy. I was hoping for another photograph or something equally incriminating but it seemed that it was not to be that easy.

I talked it over with Dominique and she said that I should do it; after all. I could always back out if things seemed untoward.

The house was in the suburbs, one of a number of substantial gated properties set well back from the quiet road. The gates opened at my approach and, as I parked on the drive, I was guessing that it was at least six bedrooms, maybe more.

I noted the discrete security cameras as I waited for the door bell to be answered. Eventually the double door was opened and I met with my first surprise. "My, my, I thought they'd charge extra for someone like you."

It was not what she said so much as the manner of her dress. She was a short woman, a little overweight, but she was wearing a clearly expensive a-line dress which helped to disguise the fact. 

Her bare arms were very pale and a little fleshy giving a clue to her age which I could not immediately determine from her face the upper half of which was covered by an elaborate Venetian carnival mask.

It was predominately mauve and it set off her startling blue eyes whilst, at the same time, clashing with her tightly permed hair which was a slightly unnatural shade of auburn. 

There was something vaguely familiar about her but I was given no time to dwell on it as she ushered me through the house. It was beautifully appointed if not quite in the same league as Vetris's.

She led the way into a kitchen which would have swallowed my entire flat and then through a door and down a flight of stairs. I found myself in a large changing room complete with a double shower. "Get undressed and come on through when you're ready."

I looked around at the empty pegs. "I'm sorry, I didn't bring anything to wear." She put her hand on my cheek. "You won't need anything sweetie."

She left through a second door and I stood bemused. I have no aversion to swimming naked but I had no intention of trying whilst I was wearing the infernal contraption.

I was about to turn and leave when I saw the towelling gown on the back of the door and, more particularly, the distinctive logo that it bore. I realized, immediately, who she was and now curiosity got the better of me.

I undressed, slipped into the gown, and braced myself before stepping out. If I was expecting a pool I was badly mistaken. The basement space was enormous, and would have accommodated one with ease, but it had been redesigned with no expense spared.

I walked out into a plush carpeted area which was furnished with four matching sofas. It was well lit by two large dummy windows giving it the impression of an airy room. Beyond this was another space which was currently in darkness making it difficult to divine its purpose.

My hostess was sitting in company with two other women both with equally elaborate masks.

"Oh, he is very nice." The words were spoken by a tall dark woman whose mask was predominately black. Her accent was Eastern European but beyond that I could not be more precise. 

"But why the gown?" This was from a woman in a yellow mask who fixed my attention by dint of the fact that she was completely naked. She was an oriental with a trim, almost boyish, figure, and a glorious cascade of black hair which fell beyond the small of her back.

I now had a good idea of what was going on but I was not sure how I could turn it to my advantage. I had, necessarily, left my phone in the changing room.

Mauve stood up. "Lose the gown, there's a good boy." My instincts said run but I did not want to come this far and leave empty handed. I decided to play along for the moment. I let the gown slip to the floor and they gasped as one before starting to laugh.

"Is that what I think it is? Jealous girlfriend?" Black got up and came towards me as she spoke. She had a honed body and wore a short skirt to show off her legs but I had the impression that she was somewhat older than she first appeared.

She took hold of the tube and tested its weight. "It looks painful." I assumed that she was speaking rhetorically and so I did not answer but my treacherous manhood was already stirring.

Mauve came to join her. "Well that's spoiled the fun somewhat. I hope he can make up for it in other ways or I might have to claim a refund." "Let's get started and find out." Yellow took my hand to lead me into the darkened area and my manhood gave another lurch as I took in the neat perfection of her taut buttocks.

Lights came on as we approached and I literally stopped in my tracks. It looked like an S & M dungeon as imagined by neighbourhood mums. There was a bench, with restraints, and chains hanging from pulleys as well as a variety of whips, paddles and other paraphernalia arranged on the walls but any sinister connotations were dampened by the décor. 

There were no clichéd blacks but instead bright pastels and shining chrome making everything look antiseptically clean. It was hard not to laugh but I knew that the time had come to leave.

Yellow gently pulled my arms back and I politely protested as she proceeded to loosely coil a pristine white rope around my wrists. "Ladies, I'm sorry, I think there's been a misunderstanding..."

Mauve came closer her posture visibly tense. "I hope you're not going to disappoint my friends..."

"Look, I don't know who, or what, you were expecting but I have to leave." I took a step back so that I could move around her to the door but then the world turned upside down. Yellow was behind me and she used my momentum to pull me across her hip. As I fell to the floor the rope around my wrists suddenly tightened and with a dexterity of which a wrangler would have been proud she whipped the loose end around my ankles.

Before I could orientate myself she gave a sharp tug and I was left lying on my stomach in a very effective hogtie. "Ladies, please, a joke's a joke but this is not my thing."

Mauve knelt close to my face and smiled cruelly. "That hardly matters...because it is very much ours."

I tested the ropes but, for something done so quickly, there was absolutely no give. "I'd like to avoid any bad feeling. Let me go and I'm sure you'll receive a full refund."

Mauve stroked my face. "I think you're telling fibs. You must be a little curious." Her hand moved down to my groin to fondle the tube and I suppose she had a point. What sane man would willingly volunteer to lock himself away like this?

Meanwhile Yellow had taken hold of another rope. Her hands moved quickly weaving patterns in the air and I felt the weight of the coils settle lightly on my arms. Without making too much of a fuss I tried to shake them loose but she was already twirling a third rope around my legs.

"Look, enough!" It was not quite a shout but I wanted them to understand that I was in earnest. Yellow seemed unperturbed as she worked with yet more rope.

"Ready?" As she said it she stood up with one loose end in her hand and Mauve and Black counted in unison. "One, two, three!"

Yellow gave a single sharp tug and I thought I had been pulled apart. The ropes tightened as one so that my elbows almost touched whilst, at the same time, bringing them close to my knees. My back was painfully bowed and the air was driven from my lungs. It seemed incredible that some one so slight could be responsible for so much pain.

"Bravo!" Mauve and Black applauded as Yellow made a mock bow and proceeded to loop a chain around the knot that she had fashioned. I was still struggling for the breath that I needed to shout when, accompanied by the quiet hum of an electric motor, I was lifted from the floor.

Mauve took hold of my feet to stop me spinning and then pushed gently. The chain, with my dead weight, moved effortlessly until I was suspended over the bench which formed the centrepiece of the room.

"Lock it off...now who wants to go first?" "You're the founder of the feast, so to speak,...I think the honour should be yours."

"I don't mind if I do. Will you lend me a hand?" Mauve turned her back to Black who unfastened the zip on her dress allowing it to fall to the floor. 

Even through the pain my eyes were still drawn towards her. She wore nothing beneath the dress and stood unashamedly naked. She was more heavy set than I had visualized with rounded shoulders and plump, pendulous, breasts.

She raised the end of the bench to form a back rest and then she slid up onto it. "Will you get me a cushion please?" Yellow obliged and she slipped it beneath herself to raise her hips. 

I was suspended eighteen inches above her staring down into the pit of her sex. It was set in the hollow formed by the slight overhang of her belly and the heaviness of her thighs.

She smiled up at me as she opened her legs further revealing a mousey thatch of untidy hair whilst I fought to keep my stomach in check and turned my head away. In so doing, I noticed the affectation.

Embossed in the leather of the bench was the same logo I had seen on the gown and I was willing to bet that it was repeated on the rest of the equipment. If I could get a couple of photographs of the room...

I wondered then if Vetris was laughing somewhere. She had put me in a position to make another tidy sum of money but she must have known the price that I was likely to have to pay.

"Lower him..." My centre of gravity meant that I was orientated slightly head down and now I was slowly dropping towards her. My constriction made breathing difficult and I was noisily heaving draughts of air but she was about to add to my misery.

"Stop." At her command I was left suspended just inches above her sex and she proceeded to idly stimulate herself.

Her fingers moved slowly producing the sucking sound of moisture and the scent rose from her as a miasma. She laughed as she noticed my distaste. "I'm ready..."

The motor whined back into life and my descent continued. It was like being lowered face first into a wet sponge and for a second or two I thought I would drown. She squirmed and pushed herself at me, adding to my torment, until I felt myself raised fractionally.

"Let's see how good you are. I assume that your girlfriend gives you lots of practise." I wanted to refuse, to tell her what a bitch she was, but I suspect that it would only it would only have added to their enjoyment. I tried for a compromise.

"Untie me and I'll do whatever you want" "Nice try sweetie...but I don't think so." She readjusted herself on the cushion so that my nose nestled in her damp thatch and my mouth was presented. 

Galling as it might be I knew that I had to go through with it. I pushed my tongue into the soft, indistinct, wetness and I began to lick. 

The taste was not as bad as I feared but I wondered how many others had preceded me here. How many men had she paid to take her abuse and bring her pleasure? Judging by the measure of her self control I suspected it was many. She was in no hurry and despite my best efforts she seemed no closer to coming.

As I continued to toil the purpose of the ropes became more obvious. I was still aware of the pain but my body had dulled it to a tolerable level; that is, as long as I kept still. 

If I moved, even slightly, I was racked with cramps and so I held my enforced posture and focused totally on the task at hand. 

All of this she knew. Her sex was my whole world and I would do what ever it took to make her come. 

I strained my neck to find her clitoris and, thankfully, she was prepared to guide me. "Just there...nice and slowly."

It took a heroic effort to do as she asked and not to try and hurry things along but I was rewarded as she slid a little lower allowing me to use the whole of my tongue.

She rolled her head on her shoulders as she let her climax build, judging it minute by minute, until she finally relinquished control and came with a drawn out rising moan.

"Was that as good as it looked?" Black helped Mauve from the bench to unsteady legs clearly eager to take her turn. She quickly divested herself of her skirt and top and took her place unperturbed by the sheen of perspiration that shone on the leather surface.

Naked, she at least presented a more edifying prospect than her hostess. Her stomach was flat and her breasts pert, perhaps a little too much so to be natural. She quickly dispensed with the cushion and I was left to stare at her sex. It was immaculately depilated save for a neat triangle at the apex in which dark hair was run through with gray giving a clue to her true age.

"Should I loosen off the ropes a little?" Black smiled at me as she answered Yellow's question. "No...not just yet" A further adjustment of the chain was necessary to ensure her comfort at the expense of mine and I put my tongue to work without being asked. 

Mauve's performance must have aroused her because she was already in heat. It might have been my imagination but the taste and smell seemed fresher although that made my task no less onerous. 

I settled to it but then I was startled but a sudden pressure on my groin. It could only have been Yellow as Mauve was still at the head of the bench.

Over the past few days I had become intimately acquainted with the acrylic mechanism. My efforts were mainly to see if and how it could be removed but, on a few occasions, I had resorted to various impromptu tools in order to relieve periodic itching.

My fingers had proved too large and clumsy but Yellow seemed to have found the trick of it. Her slender digits made a partial incursion but the result was devastating. My manhood reared only to be cruelly crushed. 

I cried out but it was a mute protest with my mouth sealed to Black's sex. She wriggled a little with the sensation. "That was nice...make him do it again."

Yellow needed no further bidding and, over the next few minutes, she almost drove me insane. Her knowing fingers repeatedly teased me to a point that I could almost believe that I could come, notwithstanding the tube, but each time the promise was viciously curtailed by the unyielding restraint.

Try as I might I could not help but groan each time it happened which acted as stimulus for Black. She started to writhe and her body glistened. "Oh God, I'm too hot for this."

She took off her mask altogether giving me a chance to see her face. She had hard features, softened by laughter lines around her dark eyes, but I could see why some people might consider her a beauty.

She swept her hair from her damp brow. "Lick me damn you!" Yellow had brought me to the brink again causing me to gasp for breath and to momentarily stop what I was doing. Now I reapplied myself licking the whole of her sex which had opened like a flower in sunlight.

As her excitement grew she scissored my head with her legs adding some of her own weight to my already strained body. She seemed determined to physically wring out every last vestige of pleasure even if I was damaged in the process.

I thought I might black out but she had reached the zenith and she slumped completely spent. It was a few moments before she could bring herself to stir and I was left breathing in the vaporous residue whilst behind me Yellow was finally relenting with the ropes.

As Black finally rose Yellow manoeuvred me. I was left lying half on the bench with my arms still bound behind my back but she now secured my thighs to the sturdy rear legs. 

After that she wasted no time. She skipped lightly onto the bench and shuffled down so that her smooth sex was beneath my mouth. For a moment or two the pain in my tortured limbs seemed even greater than that I had endured whilst in suspension but I took comfort from the fact that my ordeal was nearly over.

My tongue felt swollen and my mouth strangely dry but I girded myself and started again. 

Her sex was a tight clam and her skin was oiled. As I licked her mons there was a hint of sweetness which was at odds with a faint smell of incense. She liked the attention I was paying her and seemed in no hurry for me to move to another level of intimacy. 

For a while it was almost soporific as the cramps in my limbs eased and my tongue was not overly stressed but I was dramatically brought back to reality. A sharp snap was followed by a pain that felt like a hot wire had been set against my backside.

My reaction was to raise my head in anguish but Yellow placed her hand on top of my head in anticipation. "Don't stop..."

A second snap accompanied by a new sharp pain made me howl and this time I jerked violently.

"Wait, let him see." As Mauve spoke she crossed to the side of the room and returned wheeling a white full length mirror; she carefully adjusted it and I was able to see Black standing behind me. 

She had put her skirt back on but stood bare breasted holding a small dog whip in her hand. I now looked at her glistening musculature in a totally new light and I was genuinely afraid. 

I knew, in spite of the pain, that she had only toyed with me up to now and I did not want to contemplate the damage of which she might be capable if she was roused. She had a mean smile and she raised the whip menacingly. "You'd better make a good job of it."

Yellow pushed my head down with obvious eagerness and I found her sex open and ready. I applied myself with renewed vigour but Black was not going to let me off that easily. Every minute or so she struck me again making me wail even though I was getting used to it.

As I continued to lick her companion using every trick at my disposal I had half an eye on the mirror watching her prowl behind me. She would tease me by running a finger lightly over my flesh, letting me know the target, and then she struck with unerring accuracy. 

She had struck me eight times, ranging from my buttocks to the back of my thighs, before she spoke again. "How's he doing?" "In truth? I would have expected a little more enthusiasm."

I did not meet Yellow's eyes because, if I had, she would have seen murder in mine. I wanted to swear, to inflict physical damage upon them, but I knew that a show of outrage was exactly what they wanted,

Black struck me another six times before Yellow finally deigned to come and, even then, it was a lazy orgasm hardly worthy of the effort that I had been forced to put in.




An Unwilling Submission



As she dismounted from the bench I was left to come to terms with the blazing, indistinct, pain which, even now, seemed to increase.

Mauve carefully stowed the mirror but made no move to release me. "Ladies, a glass of wine I think, then he should be ready for a little more..."

Chapter 4 

When it was all over they went upstairs and left me to get changed. I was still raging but I knew how I was going to extract my revenge. Once they had gone I took photographs of the basement equipment, with its distinctive logo, and then I set wheels in motion.

Mauve's real name was Laura Denham and she was the marketing genius who had taken the small roster of virtual unknowns on the "Spiral of Sound" record label and turned them into a product for which all the big labels were clamouring.

One of her headline grabbing initiatives had been to suggest that the music industry was like Hollywood of old. She asserted that young artists, male and female, were having to offer sexual favours in order to advance their careers with the suggestion that "Spiral of Sound" would not stoop to such depths. 

I approached the same editor who had paid for the Prideau material and settled on much the same terms. Nothing could be proved but the photographs of the basement with the "Spiral of Sound" logo prominent were open to interpretation. I smiled as I watched the TV coverage with the press pack camped outside her door eager for photographs of her 'dungeon'.

I banked my second large cheque and considered the irony of the rather large cash 'tip' that Denham, still masked, had pressed upon me as I left her house. I decided to treat Dominique but we ended up having our first major row. 

I was so exhausted by the session with the three women that I avoided Dominique for a couple of days. Besides that, Vetris was out of the country and I had to spend a further three unscheduled and frustrated days in chastity. I was not too fussed about it as I had now achieved my object and, if necessary, I would suffer the embarrassment and pay someone to remove it.

Dominique finally turned up unannounced. She used the key that I had given her and caught me in the shower. 

There was no hiding the marks on my legs. They were not as bad as I feared and they had now faded to a dull purple with only a hint of bruising. Dominique insisted on hearing the whole story and I gave her a much simplified version leaving out any reference to forced cunnilingus. 

She seemed fascinated by the marks, running her fingers over them and asking me more about the women. She did not seem to understand my reluctance to talk about it and, worse still, she seemed aroused by it.

She wanted me to go down on her and I refused which resulted in her storming out. 

To begin with I thought 'to hell with her' and turned my mind to the setting up of my own magazine, I even contemplated making Don an offer to buy him out, but more and more over the preceding days I had thought about running a publication with Dominique at my side. Apart from anything else she seemed to have a knack of opening doors.

I tried to call her but to no avail and she was very much on my mind as I set out for a remote industrial estate north of the river. 'Typecast' were an up and coming indie band and Dominique had swung it for me to look in on the shoot for their new promotional video.

The band had developed a reputation for producing what they called 'edgy' videos which, to me, read 'raunchy' and the new shoot was a hot ticket. 

If I'm honest I was not a great fan. I thought their sound owed a huge debt to Tom Verlaine's band 'Television' and a very inferior copy at that. The new single 'Ambiguity' was one of their better efforts. They had admitted their own shortcomings and used a lyricist. The song was better crafted than any of their previous offerings and dealt with a man's fear that his girlfriend was betraying him with another woman. 

Taking an artistic liberty the director was interpreting this by having a princess being ministered by two hand maidens. The set was dressed as an Arthurian castle and the girls cavorted on a four poster with diaphanous gowns which were going to have to be shot very carefully if the video was going to achieve certification.

As the session wore on the band were plying the girls with white wine and they were becoming less and less inhibited. Dominique, when she set it up, was not to know that I would still be locked up but the girl's antics were putting a painful strain on me.

Having heard the song a dozen or more times I was thinking about calling it a day when I realized that there was another story here. 

The girls were being chaperoned by three women who, I assumed, were their mothers. They sat on the sidelines, enjoying the wine that was on offer, and seemed completely unfazed by the fact that their daughters were engaged in acts that fell just short of outright pornography.

I was intrigued by their attitude and presumed that their ambitions for their daughters had completely skewed their moral compass. 

They were not very old themselves, none of them looked over forty, but they appeared hard edged. Two of them would have been worth a second look in a certain light but the third was simply gross.

Ironically, her daughter, a light-skinned coloured girl, was the best looking of the three performers but the mother was darker hued and seriously overweight. 

I was wondering how I might get myself close enough to overhear some of their conversation when two of them got up to use the rest rooms leaving the coloured woman alone. 

Seeing where they were headed I cut across to get there in front of them. The film location company had provided a single, unisex, facility and I dashed in and claimed a cubicle. 

They followed me in a moment later and their laughter suggested that they were a little the worse for wear. They proceeded to occupy adjacent cubicles and conversed loudly. 

There was much hilarity as they described in lurid detail what they would both like to do to the bands lead singer and then they began to discuss another "cutie". It took a few seconds to appreciate that the "cutie" under discussion was me and a certain misplaced pride sent blood coursing south with painful results.

Whilst I continued to listen I carefully pulled down my jeans and pants to ease the pressure and it was at that moment that the cubicle door was flung open. "What the fuck is that?" 

The coloured woman was standing there and it was hard to say which of us was more surprised. She filled the doorway making a hasty exit impossible and I decided to act indignant. "It's occupied, if you don't mind."

"Occupied my ass. Looks to me like you a snoopin' perv." My eyes dropped to the plateau of her bosom where she wore her security ID tag. "Marsha?...There's been a misunderstanding"

Before she could reply there was a fresh commotion as her two companions rushed to join her whilst still adjusting their clothing. "Are you staring at my tits?" This was from the bottle blonde. In fact, I was trying to see her tag, which revealed her name to be Gale, but she did have nice breasts and nipples which, at that moment, were standing remarkably proud.

"Look, move aside and I'll be out of your way..." "Hold on slick. Not so fast. Marsha asked you a question. What is that thing?" I was still trying to pull up my jeans and pants but only managed to bark my elbow on the wall. The redhead, completely unabashed, slid in beside me and reached down to my groin. Her name, which was now going to remain indelibly printed on my memory, was Janice. 

"Is this supposed to make you bigger?" She tugged at the tube unceremoniously making me wince. Gale laughed. "No, its one of those things to stop him playing around...you must be a really naughty boy."

I was hemmed in by these crazed, brazen, women, and I was not sure how I was going to extricate myself without resorting to violence. "Look, shouldn't you get back out there and check on your daughters?" Janice gave a frightening laugh. "They're quite capable of looking after themselves. The boys have invited them on to a party afterwards and someone is going to get their brains fucked out."

I regard myself as a man of the world but her coarse candour shocked me. Gale, meanwhile, reached down and began to investigate the tube for herself. "Have you got the key?" I swatted her hand away. "No." "Pity, Jan and me took a shine to you. You could have had some of this." She took half a step back and lifted her skirt. She was not wearing panties and her hairless sex looked flushed suggesting that her fingers had not been idle whilst conversing with her friend.

Janice put her arm around my shoulders in a hideously intimate embrace and ran a single finger across my lips. "Perhaps he can still have some of it..."

I shook her off but Marsha caught me unawares. "Smile!" I made a desperate grab for her camera phone but she moved away with a nimbleness that her weight belied. "Enough is enough!" Anger added menace to my tone but they simply laughed. These women knew the harshness of the world and that, in me, they had someone who was hamstrung by a more moral upbringing. 

Janice assumed the role of gang leader and moved to one side without allowing me room to bolt. "Gale, make yourself comfortable. Let's see what the boy can do."

As Gale manoeuvred on to the toilet seat, lifting her skirt as she did so, I exploded "You're crazy! Get the fuck out of my way!"

What happened next rocked me to the core. Without saying a word Janice raised her hand and slapped Gale soundly on the cheek. Gale barely flinched, a woman clearly used to casual violence, but she looked at her friend in surprise.

"The way Marsha and I saw it you followed our friend in here and you assaulted her. She has the marks to prove it." Gale, seeing the plan, began to smile. She touched her cheek which bore the livid imprint of Janice's hand.

"You're nuts. Nobody will believe that bullshit." Janice brought her face close to mine before spitting her reply. "She's hurt and you're the perv with the sex aid. Who do you think the police will believe?" "You can't be serious." "Try me. Get down on your knees and start licking or I'll scream blue murder."

My mind was working furiously. Rationally, I knew that I should simply walk away but who knew what they were capable of. Nothing in my suburban, middle class, upbringing could have prepared me for this. 

What I did know for sure was that all of my career ambitions, and a possible future with Dominique, hung in the balance. Just the taint of something like this, proven or not, might be enough to derail my hopes and schemes. In the heat of the moment I simply did not see the irony of the situation given the events that I had put in train in the preceding days.

Disgusting as the prospect seemed I was going to have to cooperate. 

Fortunately, the cubicle was spotlessly clean but that made it no more tolerable. In the cramped confines I slowly slid down as Janice hissed to Marsha. "Get the door."

Behind me I heard the bolt to the trailer door being shot and it occurred to me that, if I could only spin things out, someone would be bound to come along. This hope was dealt a blow, however, when the interminable song struck up again. It was reasonably certain that every male in the room was going to be riveted to the ongoing proceedings on set.

Nevertheless I procrastinated. I kissed Gale's pallid inner thighs and concentrated on the fine details as I tried to forget the fact that she was regally seated on a lavatory seat. 

I noted the fine tracery of pale stretch marks and a few, tiny, stray hairs where she was imperfectly depilated. She also had a fading rash suggesting that she could be gentler with the razor. 

She liked my soft technique, perhaps it was less forthright than she was accustomed to, but Janice was not so tolerant. She bent close to my ear and spoke sharply. "For fucks sake, lick her properly!"

There was no avoiding it and I braced myself to lick her sex. As I suspected she was already aroused but the familiar scent was masked by the citric astringency of a chemical toilet cleaner. 

With nothing to lose I licked boldly to get it over with and her sex opened like an overripe fruit. The taste was strong and the suddenness of it took me by surprise. I must have flinched causing Janice to laugh. "You should be flattered. It was watching you posing out there that got her all hot and bothered. Now swallow it nicely and say thank you."

If she was setting out to provoke me she was succeeding but her remarks had even more of an effect on Gale. Her sex welled up and I felt the product dripping from my chin. Taking this as my cue I moved slightly and began to lash her clitoris with painfully learned proficiency. 

"Oh yes!" She took hold of my head in both hands to keep my mouth just so and then her body started to shake. 

Somewhere behind me I thought I heard a knock but Marsha simply bellowed. "Fuck off! Come back later!"

The explosive invective startled Gale but she recovered quickly and pulled me to her even more tightly. As her orgasm burst upon her she closed her knees painfully to the sides of my head in fear that I might come up short. 

I reality I could not move. I was penned in by three bodies, all radiating heat, and I had to fight down a growing panic. When she reluctantly opened her legs once more I found myself gasping for breath.

"Move yourself, there's a queue here." Janice nudged Gale unceremoniously and she stepped on the back of my calf as she got up and tried to adjust her clothing. 

There was an inevitability that Janice would want to take her turn but I had refused to admit it to myself. Now I was faced with the ghastly reality. She hurriedly divested herself of a well worn pair of panties and took Gale's place.

"My husband gets plenty of practise at this...I expect you to do better." My immediate thought was that she had nicer legs than her friend but that was wiped out by the image of her sex. 

She had the most pronounced labia I had ever seen. They were gray-blue with pink fringes and put me in mind of an exotic anemone. This was reinforced as she opened her legs wide and the enjoined wings reluctantly parted. 

So strong was the feeling that they were imbued with a life of their own that I had to close my eyes in order to bring myself to serve her. 

As I brushed my tongue along the very tips I found them cooler than I might have expected but they hinted at her taste. I tried to work a little deeper but they seemed formless, teasing away from my efforts. 

After a moment or two she grew impatient. "Christ! Have you ever had a girlfriend?" She parted herself with her fingers drawing the folds of flesh aside like a pink veil. The walls were rimed with moisture, beckoning my eyes to the deep set entrance, and my tongue flexed of its own volition.

"Good boy, you've got the idea." I licked at the succulent pink flesh stretched between her fingers and slowly moved inwards until the tip of my tongue found its way to the mouth of the cave. I inscribed a circle and felt a slow relaxation as she readied herself for the inevitable invasion.

I waited just a little before I applied the steady pressure which allowed my tongue to slip, full length, inside her. As I was squeezed in welcome, and felt the raw heat at her core, I realized, with astonishment, that, just for a moment or two, I had lost myself. 

For the space of a few heartbeats I had forgotten that I was being coerced and had focussed, with a frightening intensity, on the strange allure of her sex. 

I was so shaken by this revelation that I stopped altogether for a second or two. Since Dominique came up with her idea I recognized that I had been physically taken advantage of in a number of ways but now I wondered if my sub-conscious was being affected.

Janice took hold of my ears and shook my head none too gently. "Don't fall asleep on me." This simple but painful reminder was enough to reinforce my loathing of her and I started again with a renewed ill will.

She was still laying herself open to me and I tried to finish her off quickly. Her labia came together to form the roof of a fleshy arch which concealed her clitoris from view. I began to probe for it with my tongue but it proved unnecessary. She was sensitive across the whole of the conjunction and she began to swear under her breath. "Just there, fuck you...harder you bastard."

She lifted her legs and planted her feet on either side of the door frame at a level with my shoulders. Having braced herself she began to thrust with her hips. It was not easy to stay with her but she seemed beyond caring as she worked her pelvis with an almost masculine vigour. 

I could not tell exactly when she began to climax but an increasing stream of expletives helped me to gauge her progress. At its height she pushed me down a little away from her clitoris. "Eat me!"

I closed my mouth around her as best I could and almost choked from the resulting inundation. Her muscles pulsed strongly producing warm gouts of moisture which ran thickly down the back of my throat.

She got up, without ceremony, leaving me to try and bring some life back into my overworked tongue. The cubicle had become uncomfortably warm and the air was rank with the smell of womanhood.

I put my hand on the seat and eased myself up from the floor. I took a deep breath and adjusted my jeans before I turned to face them but it was difficult to muster any dignity given the circumstances. I decided it was best simply to say nothing at all but, as I stepped out of the cubicle, Mavis moved to block the way.

I immediately felt a sickening hollow in the pit of my stomach. I had not, for one moment, contemplated this. For one thing I was way out of her league and I must have assumed that white meat was not to her taste. There was absolutely no rationale for this and even as I reviewed the, now apparent, absurdity of my reasoning another thought came to mind.

There was the common perception, an urban myth perhaps, that Afro-Caribbean men were reluctant to go down on their partners regarding it as unmanly. Perhaps Mavis saw this as her opportunity to even the score.

She stared at me, daring me to defy her, but there was no way I could go through me it. For the first time in my life I clenched my fist and raised my hand to a woman. If I was going to hit her I should have done it immediately, without thought, but I hesitated and she saw through me. I was not given a second chance. She launched herself and used her weight to slam me into the wall.

I felt the whole trailer shake and then there were stars before my eyes as I tried to gasp air into my badly winded lungs. She was not finished yet. She bent down and took hold of my ankles and with a single vicious yank she pulled my feet from under me. 

My head smacked into the floor and for a moment I blacked out completely. When I came to it was to find her standing astride me purposefully unfastening the buttons at the front of her cheap, floral print, dress.

I tried to rise but my brain felt loose inside my head and Gale and Janice quickly pinned my legs.

Mavis casually discarded her dress and I stared up at her. Had I only seen her calves I might have painted a different picture in my mind. She was not wearing hose and her lower legs were almost shapely but they were supporting the thick trunks of her thighs which in turn bore the weight of her wide, heavy, hips.

She stood in an everyday white bra and panties and whilst, on another woman, these might have fitted sensibly on Mavis they barely served their purpose.

Her belly formed a heavy roll in which the waistband of the panties was lost and they were stretched so tight over her crotch that they were all but see-through. Her bra, meanwhile, struggled valiantly to contain her weighty breasts with their lack of definition. It was obvious that she had particularly large nipples but they had long since given up the fight to face front. 




An Unwilling Submission



Even as I was registering this she began to work her panties down her legs. I wanted to look away but I found myself watching with a hideous fascination. She had an even skin tone but this only made the deep, shadowed, valleys more pronounced as her body moved. 

She kicked her panties aside and, standing proudly legs akimbo, ran her hand over her sex. She had a small, low set, mound dressed with an uneven frizz of dark curls which shaded to gray on the insides of her thighs. 

It may have been the blow to the head but I began to feel nauseous. I lifted my head a little and felt marginally better but she chose that moment to seal my fate. With no concern for my well being she dropped to her knees and allowed her weight to settle on my chest.

I immediately struggled for air as her bulk put a fresh strain on my already troubled lungs. She could see my distress but seemed completely unmoved as she took off her bra. 

Even with my vision blurred I could see that her breasts might once have been impressive. Her nipples were black saucers set against a warmer brown and the engorged teats hinted at former glory.

She saw where I was looking and lifted them as if for inspection. It was clear that she felt she was possessed of something that men still might find desirous. 

I would have begged her to get off of me but I knew it would avail me nothing; instead I resorted to threats. "Don't even think about it. I will bite you so hard..."

She simply smiled and I saw in that look an absolute assurance that she was going to get her way. I felt a sudden dread, wondering just how far they would go, as Mavis eased forward so that her sex was poised above my face.

"You ever tasted black coochie?" I did not answer and kept my mouth firmly closed. Her smile widened as if this was the response that she had been expecting. She ran her hand over her sex again and sighed to herself. 

I could see, now, that the insides of her thighs had been dusted with talc and I recognized the strong smell of lavender but it could not overcome the muskier scent of her excitement. 

I tried to struggle free but that just made them laugh. They unfastened my jeans and pulled them down my legs so that I was hobbled. I then felt a hand gently fondling my balls. I tried to ignore it but it was a skilful caress and, before very long, my manhood betrayed me.

They laughed together as I squirmed in obvious discomfort and fingers clumsily toyed with the tube itself. Throughout this Mavis remained unmoved with her meaty knees pinning my shoulders to the floor.

Finally, they tired of their game and I felt a new sensation. There was a hand still cradling me but I could feel a single finger probing my sac. It seemed innocuous until I was suddenly jolted by an unbelievable pain. It could not have hurt more if someone had kicked me between the legs. It passed quickly leaving a deep, penetrating, ache and Mavis spoke. "Still want to bite me?"

Slowly, inch by inch, she began to descend and her dark skin seemed to absorb the light and air. I tried to shake my head in furious denial but her thighs closed about my head making all movement impossible.

She seemed to flow over me until there was total darkness and then the floor beneath me creaked as she relaxed altogether and her full weight bore down.

I thought that my skull would be crushed and I tried to cry out but my mouth was sealed by the pulpy mass of her sex. 

She waited ten long seconds before she relented and eased up just a little. I was able to move my head fractionally but I only succeeded in sinking my nose into a wet, stifling, trench.

I have a penchant for horror films, perversely because I find that most of them make me laugh, but one that did frighten me, and has stayed with, was Roger Corman's "Premature Burial". 

As a young teenager I stayed over at a friend's house and we watched it on late night television whilst his parents were out. At the time I could only imagine the terror of being buried alive but now I had a real inkling.

I could hardly breathe and when I did the air was moist and strong with the smell of her sex. It almost felt like drowning and my natural response was to try and breathe even more deeply. 

It was like inhaling a drug. The essence of her filled my lungs and clouded my mind. I wanted to lick her, because to do so would be to gain some relief from the mountain of flesh that entombed me, but there was no way to communicate my submission.

My last coherent thought was to play dead and hope that they would show a little compassion but, in reality, I feared the schadenfreude. 

Just then she lifted herself; not much, but enough for me catch a gasping breath. "You are going to remember me for the rest of your life." With those mocking words she sealed me in once more and so the scene was set. Each time I thought that I was going to expire she would grant me a single breath but then she would resettle. 

I was blind and her thighs were tight to my ears so that my hearing was restricted to the pounding of my own blood flow. Inevitably my body called on my remaining senses and everything in my closed universe was focused on her scent and ever increasing wetness. 

Every now and again she would move very slightly as if gauging the contours of my face and then, suddenly, the reason became apparent. 

Her weight began to shift, to roll forward up and over my features. It started slowly, almost imperceptibly, but once she was in motion she gained inertia. She rocked on my face, working her hips with a driving rhythm. She used my sweat and her own emissions as a lubricant and set a pace that I would have thought beyond her.

I was no longer bearing her whole weight but I feared for my nose and mouth. She was sliding from my chin to my forehead and back slowly filling my nostrils with a cloying mess.

It seemed to go on for an eternity but, finally, she reined herself in and centred herself on the bridge of my nose. Her movements were more delicate, more deliberate, as she stimulated her clitoris. Her whole body seemed to vibrate and a long way off, in another world, I could just hear a muted, joyful, exultation.

When it was over she no longer had the strength to bear herself up and her flesh melted onto my face once more. At that point I was no longer compos mentis.

Things only came back into focus again when she reluctantly heaved herself up and then I wished that they had not. I was hot, sweating from every pore, but so, it seemed, was she.

Her skin shone and a single bead of moisture was moving ever faster over the curve of her belly. For a second or two it hung heavily but then surrendered to gravity to fall wetly on my forehead. 

She laughed at my look of disgust. "You made momma all hot and bothered. You ready for some more?"

She loomed over me again allowing me to see the open pink maw her sex had become. She was very wet and a single, tenuous, strand formed a fairy bridge between her leathery labia.

I tried to turn my head aside but that just made her laugh all the more. "It's up to you. You can lick me or I'll ride your pretty little face. One way or another I'm going to come again and, believe me, this time it's going to take a whole lot longer."

She knew I had no choice; the thought of spending another minute buried beneath her was unthinkable. I stopped struggling and opened my mouth.

"Glad you saw sense." She presented herself to me but even now I felt uncomfortably closed in. Her heavy thighs radiated heat, as did her sex itself, and the light was almost totally eclipsed. 

I put out my tongue thankful, at least, that I could breath normally again. The taste, to begin with, was unpleasant; a stale mix of her and me but it did not take much to set up a fresh flow and then it did not seem so bad.

It seemed incredible to consider that, only a short while ago, I hated doing this at all and now I was grateful for her excitement. Even my tongue seemed to have found new stamina.

I do not know how long she kept me at work. The music outside had stopped and at least one other person tried to gain entrance to the trailer only to be given short shrift. 

She issued instruction from time to time, sometimes wanting my tongue deep inside and at others paying attention to her labia. I did the best I could, not only to try and satisfy her as soon as possible, but also because I needed something to focus on.

When she leaned forward a little making her clitoris available I knew better than to rush at it. I sucked it softly between my lips and circled it with my tongue. I determined the pace that worked for her and felt a peculiar sense of achievement as, for the first time, she offered genuine thanks as she started to come. She came more gently and her climax was prolonged but by the end I was in pain. Incredible as it seemed my manhood had tried to achieve an erection only to be broken in the attempt.

Chapter 5

I was saved by a commotion outside. There was a loud banging on the wall of the trailer, along with angry voices, and Mavis hurriedly dressed. I locked myself in a cubicle, to give myself time to recover, whilst the three women left with excuses about jammed doors.

It was nearly an hour before I stopped shaking enough to drive home and when I got there I cried. 

I do not know why. There was an element of shame certainly but there was clearly something more. I felt as if I was being subtly changed and in some way manipulated. 

Dominique phoned asking how the shoot went and I was as brief as politeness would allow. She wanted to meet up but I made excuses. I was due to see Vetris the following day and I was determined that the next time I met with Dominique I would make a new beginning symbolized by the removal of the tube.

Mornings were always the most difficult time. More often than not I was woken before the alarm by the pain of a frustrated erection and today, perhaps anticipating imminent freedom, it seemed worse than ever. I had to resort to a freezing shower to calm myself down and avoided morning television lest the image of a half acceptable female set things off again.

On the drive down I thought about all that I had been through but decided the cost was worth it. I need not see anyone involved ever again and I could begin to realize my dream.

DeeDee answered the door to me dressed, as usual, in one of the tailored business suits that, on her, looked undeniably sexy. She looked me up and down with an enigmatic smile before leading me through to the day room.

I was greeted by the gentle strains of shamisen music and the reason was immediately obvious. With her back to me Vetris was seated in the lotus position in front of the large central window. 

DeeDee took up her usual station at the side the room and I stood idly for two or three minutes until the music came to a finish. 

As the last notes died Vetris rose from the floor in a fluid motion. She was wearing an exquisitely embroidered silk gown which was just long enough to preserve her modesty. 

Backlit by the sun streaming in at the window I could appreciate the delicious curves of her body and I felt a warning tingle from my groin.

As she turned to me I as mildly surprised to see that she was already wearing full make-up. Her dark eyes were accented by a black liner and a subtly bronze eye shadow and her full lips were glossed in the rich red colour which had become her trademark. If they ever contemplated a remake of Cleopatra she would have to be a candidate.

"So, you've come for the key." "I would have come earlier but I understand you've been away." I was trying for sarcasm but it came out more bitterly than I intended and I found that once I had started I could not stop. "What is it with you? Do you like playing the bitch, getting off on other peoples misery?"

She gave the slightest of smiles. "Let's just say that your situation has afforded me a measure of amusement. I imagine that your attitude to women has changed a little over the past few days." If she only knew the half of it...but I was glad that she did not have the satisfaction.

She walked into the centre of the room. "Perhaps we should put it to the test. Would you like to go down on DeeDee again? She could tell us if there has been any improvement."

I knew that she was trying to rile me but, with great effort, I kept myself in check. "Just let me have the key and then our business together is concluded."

For a few seconds she did not move but then she slowly slipped the belt on her gown. It opened with a faint hiss leaving me to stare at her naked body.

So many thoughts went through my mind not least the many millions of men who would have given fortunes to trade places with me at that moment. The truth was that they would not have been disappointed.

She still had a body that would make most twenty year olds jealous. Her breasts were particularly beautiful. They would have sat perfectly in a pair of champagne saucers and the nipples were dark, neat, roundels with a cute uplift.

Her skin was flawless, a rich creamy colour suggestive of perfect health and the only surprise was her sex. She maintained a lush growth of dark curls which had an unnatural lustre.

She remained motionless fully aware of the effect she was having on me. Under other circumstances I would have been one of the millions but now I felt nothing but hatred.

She traced her fingertips over the flat plane of her toned stomach. "Perhaps if you were to ask me nicely I might let you go down on me. That would give you something to dream about for the rest of your life."

"Go to hell! I'd rather fuck a man!" "A curious attitude bearing in mind you haven't got the key yet." "I'm finished with your games. You can give it to me or I'll get someone else to remove it." "That would be a pity. The lock is very expensive, a one off-in fact, it would be a shame to destroy it." "Then give me the key. You can have it back and enjoy your little joke."

She half turned as if lost in thought. "It's not quite that simple now that you've insulted me."

She took a step away and turned to face me again. "You are going to please me...but first you are going to beg." "You are fucking deranged!" She ignored the insult and continued. "What do you know about 'The Music Page'?"

I was wrong footed by the question. 'The Music Page' was the current buzz. It was to be a newly commissioned television programme dealing with all aspects of the contemporary music industry. The theory was that it would be based on intelligent interviews and would eschew those who simply had something to plug. It was my dream made manifest and I was as intrigued as anyone as to who would front it. 

I could not help myself. I wanted to know more. "I've heard as much or as little as anyone else." She smiled and turned to DeeDee. "Show him."

DeeDee picked up a sheath of papers and brought it over. The top sheet was a Certificate of Incorporation for 'Supramedia' the mysterious production company behind 'The Music Page'. The second sheet was a schematic showing a series of holding companies coming back to 'Ventura Records' Vetris's own label.

"It's your programme?" I would never have guessed it but I could see the logic. With her contacts the programme would achieve critical mass right from the off. She let the implications sink in before she continued. "Some of the biggest names in the industry have been mooted as the anchor for the show but, personally, I would prefer someone new, someone fresh. Now, you may be a little rough around the edges but you are a good journalist and you scrub up quite nicely. Are you prepared to demonstrate any other talents?"

If I had any personal integrity left I should have walked away but she knew my vanity would win out. She was offering the chance of a lifetime and, in my minds eye, I was already contemplating the lifestyle. "What would I have to do?"

She did not answer. There was a chaise lounge facing the mantel. It was a modern design, which obviously owed something to Corbusier, and she reclined upon it. As she did so her gown slipped off almost altogether and she slowly raised her knees. 

I told myself that there could be worse prices to pay but still took an effort to swallow my pride. I moved in front of her signalling my obeisance and she allowed her legs to fall open.

I felt a strong urge to look over my shoulder, to see if DeeDee was watching, but I told myself that it made no difference. I started to bow to her when she brought me up short. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

For a moment I was at a loss but then understood that she wanted me to go through with the whole pantomime. "May I?" "May you what?" I squirmed inside and tried again. "May I lick you?" She smiled. "What would you like to lick?" She could see my discomfort at having to form the words and was enjoying it. "May I lick your pussy?" "How quaint, but that's not a word I like. Try again." My anger was rising and I tried to shock her. "May I lick your cunt?" In truth I hated the word, with all its Anglo-Saxon bluntness, and could not recall ever having used it before. It seemed so unnatural but far from being put out she twisted the knife. "But don't you find it beautiful? Make me believe you."

"May I lick your beautiful cunt?" In the wider world she was universally acclaimed and I was a nobody. As I said the words, albeit with forced sincerity, this seemed reinforced in some fashion. It was as if a switch had been tripped in my mind and all power of self determination had been stripped from me. 

It may, perhaps, have been a method of self-hypnosis, a way to simply get through it, but as I brought my mouth to her sex I felt a sense of total abasement. 

Whilst I may not have understood the dynamics she was fully attuned and I came to understand that this was a game that she had played out in a variety of ways many times before. "Worship me..."

Her sex was a beckoning cavern of darkness. The prominent labia were beautifully shaped, perfect twins pouting as if for a kiss. With my first touch they parted a little and her scent pervaded the air. 

There was some feral quality, a uniqueness that echoed her free spirit. Ignoring my natural instincts I breathed deeply imprinting it on my memory. I played my tongue over her slicked inner lips and the intensity of it increased binding me to her until there was no escape.

I had my eyes closed but I knew, even without looking, that she was smiling and enjoying her dominion over me. Her taste was growing stronger moment by moment, a honeyed fullness counterpointed by a distinct tang that had my traitorous tongue craving for more. 

As I pressed deeper within my nose was teased by dark curls which had been oiled to an incredibly silky softness. Under any other circumstances I would have felt revulsion but now I gently nuzzled drowning myself in her essence.

I hated her but I was falling further under her spell with every lick of my tongue. I was a groaning animal as I sucked at her and there, in the background, was the dulled but biting pain of denial.

Time was meaningless as I lost myself in her but I was drawn back to reality as she gently eased herself away from me. "I haven't forgotten that you insulted me. I'm afraid that there is still a price to pay..." I looked at her in confusion wondering what more she could want of me. "Get undressed."

Could it be that she wanted me to make love to her? My manhood swelled at the thought bringing instant punishment but there now beckoned the promise of imminent release and perhaps more. 

She lounged casually watching me take off my clothes and then she got up herself. Such was her physical attraction that it was only now that I noticed that I was not the only one to disrobe. DeeDee was standing behind me gloriously naked with her clothes neatly folded over the chair.