Sex in the City--London Page 7

  A gasp of shock escapes from your mouth and you immediately look at the table when some of the other diners glance towards your table. They heard her command.

  You grab your wineglass. You take a large swallow and set the glass down. You look mournfully at her. She cannot mean what she has said, not here, amongst all these strangers. You sense that she will not accept anything less.

  You sit like a stump.

  She waits, tapping her foot; you know that your refusal to obey will only result in another penalty.

  You lower your hands to your hips and begin to pull your dress higher up your legs. You squirm to lift it so you can get at your panties. But as you tug at your dress, you realise the dress needs to actually be raised even higher than you thought. You glance across the room. A man and woman watch you squirm. With a moan you look down and scrabble under your dress. Your fingers touch a piece of underwear fabric and you tug it down. You lift your arse from the chair and feel your panties slipping beneath your buttocks. With a whimper, you tug harder and the panties slide below your ass and on to your thighs.

  Now you sit back down and lift one thigh, pulling your panties down on that side, then lift the other leg and do the same. As you squirm back and forth, you glance around and see that the couple watching you are very curious about you.

  You get the panties to your knees and move your legs until they fall around your ankles.

  You then squirm your feet until your heels are completely free of the underwear. The man and woman are still looking at you. You want to yell at them to stop being bloody looky-loos.

  You take a deep breath and bend over and reach for the panties. You sit back up and hold them in your lap, scrunching them into a tight ball.

  Throughout this entire ordeal she has been watching you and smiling as she sees the contortions you have gone through to try and keep what you are doing unknown. She leans forward and holds out one hand. Blushing deeply, you lift your clenched fist and very carefully lower the ball of fabric into her palm.

  She lets it sit there, in the open.

  You blush harder and glance toward the nosey man and woman. They are still watching.She opens her palm. Your panties almost fall from her hand, before she catches the waistband on a finger tip. You hear a loud laugh; your head jerks toward the sound. The man and woman are laughing and you turn scarlet. Then he lifts his glass and toasts you.

  Softly, you say to her, ‘Please put them away. Please.’

  She frowns.‘Did you ask for permission to speak?’

  You groan, as you know she has done this to trap you, to catch you speaking without permission.

  ‘No, Madam, I did not. I am truly sorry. Will you please forgive me?’

  ‘Certainly, little girl. I am most forgiving this evening. I will forgive you once you show me your lovely breast again.’

  Youtake a deep breath and slip your shoulder strap down and then lower the front of your dress. You hear a chuckle from the other table.

  Defiantly you sit, one teat bared for her. Your anger cannot hide the embarrassment you feel. Your nipples are both hard and poking out.

  She sips her wine.‘You may put it away now, little girl. You are angry, no?’

  ‘Yes, Madam, I am angry. You humiliated me again.’

  ‘Did you not enjoy it? Wasn’t it thrilling?’

  ‘Others saw me.’

  ‘Ah, but I think you enjoy this very much. And you have such pretty little breasts. You should be proud of them and want to show them to me.’

  She is right and you do not want to admit this.

  The waiter arrives and you realise that your breast is still exposed. You hunch over and quickly lift your dress to cover it, hoping that he did not see anything.

  You sit up as calmly as you can, blushing deeply, and do not look at the waiter.

  She orders for the two of you, without asking you what you want. She is very much in control of this evening. You sit quietly. She smiles. She knows this is hard for you. She is proud of your compliance.

  You relax as much as you can. Your eyes flick to the man and woman. They continue to watch you. You loathe their eyes.

  The waiter comes and serves dinner. You both eat and nothing is said. You appreciate the silence; it gives you time to compose yourself.

  Soon the meal is over and she gives her credit card to the waiter. Before long he is back and you are ready to leave.

  She stands and then you rise from the table too. You slip the wrap over your shoulders once more and she fastens the chain at the front, closing the garment. Then with a nod to the man and woman that have watched you, she strides out of the alcove and you follow her with as much dignity as you can muster.

  The limousine appears as if by magic and she waits for the driver to open the rear door. She enters first, of course, and motions for you to sit across from her. She lifts the phone for the driver and gives him directions to a place in Richmond.

  The traffic is heavy, the drive is long. Eventually, the limousine turns into a long driveway. There is a large house at the end. Almost a mansion, you think.

  Who lives here?

  She says, ‘Now, my pet, you will be a good girl while we are here. I do not want any hesitation or whining tonight. Understood?’

  Your stomach clenches. ‘Oui, Madam.’

  ‘Be sure you remember that.’

  The limousine stops.

  The driver opens the rear door.

  She is out, waiting for you.

  You step out and wait for her to move, your cue.

  You both walk to the front door. A servant in black-and-white uniform opens it and you are led inside. She stops you. The servant holds a mask – just a simple black mask. She takes the mask from the servant and fastens it on to your face.

  Most of your face is covered, but you can see out of the eye slits.

  You shudder;you know for sure that she is going to make you do something that you will not want to do. But you will do it, and you will feel both shame and arousal while you do it.

  She leads you through a set of large double doors. There are many people beyond the doors – men and women standing and talking, drinks in their hands, laughter issuing from their elegant, well-bred, wealthy mouths.

  She easily moves through the group, stopping and talking with several – English, French, German, even Russian, as she is fluent in all. Spanish too. These are her people: the upper crust of European society. And who are you but some lower-class slave from Liverpool who rents a shoebox flat in East Finchley. A girl who grew up with a sadistic step-mother and a drunken factory worker for a father. So who are you and why are you here?

  You follow her and find that you are ignored once they have taken in your body, your dress, and your mask. No one talks to you, but they ask her about you. You discover that you are a find, a treasure.The compliments do not make you feel any better. You are an object of shameful flesh, not a woman. Not a person. You feel uneasy. You only have your dress to cover your body and you remember the last evening with her, and what happened: the complete humiliation, the eyes upon you.

  A man separates himself from the crowd and taps a glass for silence.

  The talking ceases.

  All eyes are on him.

  He speaks.‘Tonight we have the pleasure of a young woman who will be a significant participant in our game. She is here of her own free will and she will not be paid for this evening’s entertainment. Thus, she is neither whore nor captive.’

  He looks at you.

  You look down. What is this game, this entertainment? What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

  She leads you across the room. Now people are looking at you more closely. You are trembling as you follow her to another room. There are chairs and couches spread around this room, but the main piece of furniture is something that looks like parallel bars, with the bars positioned much lower. She leads you to this thing, this object. You find that the closest bar is level with your waist. She moves you forward unti
l your belly is pressed against it, and you are facing away from her. She strokes your arms, your back. You cannot stop trembling.

  ‘Be still and be good. You will not be hurt. Trust me. I will not allow for you to be hurt.’

  Her hands reach up to your shoulders and slip the straps of your dress down your upper arms. Your breasts are the only things holding the dress up now. You whimper softly. She gently presses your back and you have to bend over the bar pressing into your stomach. Each of your arms is taken and fastened to the second bar.

  You are restrained.

  You are vulnerable.

  She leaves you.

  You are alone.

  It is quiet in here now. Too quiet.

  You strain your ears. Where are all the people?

  Minutes feel like hours. Then you hear heels clacking and the buzz of conversation. You sense many people are standing behind you.

  A man speaks: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, our friend has brought this treasure to us. To be a part of our game. So we will play with her. She has an aversion to having her bottom used, so we will be using that. Each man and woman will pair up and draw numbers. Then, starting with number one, the female half of the couple will insert one of the devices provided inside our little guest’s bottom. As long as she allows this to be done to her, each couple will then pass to the other side of the room. But, if she wishes for the insertions to stop, she need only ask and we will stop. The remaining men, however, who are partnered with a woman who has not had the chance to test her anus, will then be allowed to fuck her. Let me get the devices and we will proceed.’

  Your head is spinning– you cannot believe what you have just heard.

  She slips up beside you. You are quietly sobbing.

  She leans down to your ear.‘Pet, the devices are dildos. They are small at the start but get bigger each time. I will prepare you, but once the game starts I cannot interfere. I promise you that no harm will come to you. You only have to endure.’

  You see two men carrying in a table. On it is a tube of lubricant and a row of dildos– some are very small, thin as fingers, but as your head turns to the other end of the table, they become grotesque, huge, frightening, rigid, inhuman: the sex of aliens and demons.

  You glance down to the floor and bite your lip. She steps to the table and lifts the lubricant. She moves behind you and you feel the hem of your dress rise. Cool air tingles about your thighs and arse.

  You feel her pulling your cheeks open and rubbing lubricant on to and around your anus. You begin to whimper. And you jerk hard when you feel her finger slip through the ring of muscle. She spreads lube inside you too.

  She bends over to whisper.‘All you have to say is stop, no more. Then it will stop.’

  You begin to cry. You cannot help yourself. Through teary eyes you see the first woman pick up the smallest dildo. She disappears behind you and you feel it at your tight anus. There is pressure and the dildo slips in.

  You groan.

  You turn your face to your mistress. You say, ‘Madam, may I speak?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘How many are there?’

  ‘Oh, darling, about twenty. I think.’

  You grunt as the first dildo is pulled out of you. Another woman comes and picks up the next dildo. In no time your cheeks are pulled open and the second dildo is inserted inside your arse. It’s removed and the third, fourth and fifth quickly follow.

  You are breathing in shallow gasps by then.

  You hear a voice announce a break and you take several deep breaths.

  You could always ask for this to stop? But what then? You will be fucked by a large number of strange men. Even worse, you will earn her anger, and she will either punish you or abandon you. And then what will you have? What will you be without her attention and love?

  Soon another woman is in front of you, selecting the sixth dildo. She disappears behind you and once again your cheeks are pulled apart and the dildo is thrust inside your ass. When you are filled with the seventh device, the penetration hurts and you start to pant. Sweat beads on your forehead and runs down your back. Each insertion and removal that follows causes you to grunt audibly.

  When the tenth device is in use, you actually gasp; it feels so huge inside you. But this one is left protruding from your ass as another break is taken by the guests.

  You can only imagine how you must look and you flush deep red.

  Your arse squirms and you can hear chuckles.

  She stands next to you, holds your hand.

  ‘M-m-madam?’

  ‘Oui, my sweet?’

  “M-may I-I s-speak?’

  ‘Yes, ma chérie.’

  ‘H-h-how many are left?’

  ‘Eight. Just eight to go.’

  ‘Oh God, oh my God.’

  ‘You can do it.’

  ‘Oh Madam …’

  ‘I have faith in you, darling.’

  You feel the tenth removed and feel air whoosh up inside your gaping hole. You clutch her hand tight and close your eyes. The eleventh, the twelfth, the thirteenth, the fourteenth and the fifteenth, all force a desperate cry from you, both on entry and removal.

  You feel lubricant running down your leg … or something else … from your arse to your leg, dripping …

  Your ass feels as though it will never close again. It feels so wide open. Another break is taken but you cannot stop panting. Your bottom hurts so much.

  Didn’t she say you would not be hurt? Perhaps she meant permanently.

  ‘M-m-madam?’

  ‘Yes, my pet?’

  ‘M-may I s-s-s-s-speak?’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘W-will you be dis-disappointed if I-I cannot d-do more?’

  ‘No, pet, you have done much more than anyone believed you could. I am impressed.’

  ‘B-but if I stop, they will … they will fuck me. The men …’

  ‘It is all right. I will not think any less of you.’

  ‘Not men, n-never m-men, Madam.’

  ‘I know, sweet.’

  ‘Oh madam, I hurt– I h-hurt.’

  ‘It will go away. Be as strong as you can. I am very proud of you, pet.’

  The break is over and the fifteenth device is removed, forcing another gasp from you. You whimper softly. You feel the pressure and groan out loud as the sixteenth dildo slides into your ass. It feels impossibly huge and your ring is burning. Panting hard, you feel it slide back out, pulling your ring with it. You grit your teeth and grunt as it pops out. Through tear-stained eyes you see the next woman pick up an enormous, grotesque dildo.

  You strain to be still and quiet, but when the tip touches your anus you cannot bear it.

  ‘S-stop, p-please s-stop.’

  The dildo is removed. You hear excited murmurs.

  She holds your hand tight and you stand on shaking legs.

  You know what is coming next.

  You feel hands on your dress and it is pulled down from your chest, over your ass and down your legs, leaving you naked save your stockings.

  Your feet are pushed apart and you wait.

  Before long you feel the prodding of a cock behind you and your vagina opens to take it. He thrusts into you and you moan softly. Your hips are grabbed and he fucks you, fucks you hard. His belly slaps against your rear. All you can do, all the energy you have only allows you to brace yourself for his thrusts. Mercifully, he is soon at his crisis and you feel the jets of life splashing inside the walls of your sex.

  With his last jerk he pulls out and you immediately feel another cock poking at you and then pressing inside. He is no better than the first, fucking you hard and coming quickly.He pulls out and you must stand, bent, and let them all look at you.

  At your abused flesh.

  Sperm trickles out, running down your thigh. Naked, humiliated. You feel disgust at yourself.

  You hear the excited voices leave the room. Only she remains with you. She releases you from the bar and puts the wrap around you. Your fa
ncy evening dress has disappeared. The chain is clasped and she takes your hand. The two of you walk out together.

  You hobble because your bottom hurts.

  She leads you through the front door and to the limousine.

  This time when the driver opens the door, she helps you inside and sits next to you.

  You are taken in her arms, she holds you a long time.

  She does not say anything.

  Until the limo stops and the door opens.

  ‘Out,’ she says.

  She pushes you; the driver pulls your arm.

  They handle you so roughly that you fall to the ground.

  People stop and stare.

  You lie on a narrow hard pavement, wearing nothing but the wrap.

  The limo drives away.

  There are at least a dozen men and women looking at you, some laughing.

  You know the area. Soho. The lights, the music from the clubs.

  Someone lifts you. Strong arms. Two men, in suits.

  One says, ‘We been expecting you.’

  The other says, ‘A dainty little birdie right on our doorstep.’

  They drag you into some kind of club. A dark club. Loud, pounding music, a song from the 1980s: ‘Candy-O’ by The Cars …

  Inside, a woman with enormous breasts dances naked on the stage and men watch her.

  ‘What are you going to do with me?’ you ask softly.

  ‘You are to be punished,’ one of the men says. ‘You are to dance and fuck here. For six weeks.’

  You start to cry.

  ‘At the end of six weeks,’ the man says, ‘she may come and take you back. If you are lucky.’

  You turn to me and say, ‘Bloody hell.’

  And you are right.

  About the Story

  I LIVED IN LONDON for three years (1996-1999) as both a student and a bum. London is where I had my first affair with an older man (I was 20 and he was 45) and my first serious lesbian relationship that lasted 13 months. My heart was broken in London. London can do that to you: excite and hurt you at the same time. My favourite bookstore was Murder One and my favourite band was Love and Rockets, and Bauhaus, of course.

  The inspiration for this story comes from the older man rather than the girl I loved. Sometimes lust and love is about control and surrender – but how far can each party go? I was curious about D/s but ultimately I could not submit myself 100% to anyone, man or woman.