Message-ID: <37563asstr$1027804202@assm.asstr.org> Return-Path: Errors-To: X-Original-Path: news From: i_m_NightShade@hotmail.com (NightShade) X-Original-Message-ID: Reply-To: i_m_NightShade@hotmail.com X-Newsposter: NNTP POWER-POST 2000 (Build 24c) - net-toys.8k.com X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 19 Jul 2002 21:58:28 GMT Subject: {ASSM} [RP] The President's Club- complete (MF FF bond) - TPCl-all.txt (1/1) Date: Sat, 27 Jul 2002 17:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman THE USUAL WARNINGS: This is a work of fiction by a twisted mind. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of natural and/or unnatural sexual acts, if you are underage, or if this type of material is illegal where you are, don't read any further. This is a fantasy. You will have to loosen your clench on reality a little when you read it. This is a tale in which physical acts and human responses are not limited to, nor necessarily based in, reality. Some acts and responses in this story may be physically impossible and/or physiologically improbable. Also, as is the case with most of the stories in this newsgroup, all the women in this story are beautiful; gorgeous, even. Gravity has not caused their breasts to droop nor have creased wrinkles their unblemished faces. The men (the leading men, at least) are hung like bulls. They can get it up and keep it up often and at will. In this special little fantasyland, there are no STDs, morals, or unwanted pregnancies; and guilt is a four-letter word. But most important of all, no amount of strength of character, courage of convictions or moral beliefs stands a chance against an erotic stimulus. This can be as benign as an accidental glimpse of a bared ankle or as stimulating as a whipping on the genitals. For those of you who didn't understand the preceding statements, GO AWAY! This story is intended for the salacious entertainment of consenting adults. Do not try to do any of the things described in this story. You will injure yourself or your partner. Or be arrested, or shot by her father.... If you are under 18 years of age, GO AWAY! This story will burn your eyeballs and fry your brain. If material of a strong sexual nature is prohibited where you are, GO AWAY! By continuing, the reader accepts all responsibility for any disgust, revulsion, jail sentences, or pleasure that result from reading this story. If you don't, GO AWAY! You have been warned! If you enjoy this story and feel the urge to post it on a site, at least give me (NightShade) credit for it. So, stick your tongue firmly in your cheek and enjoy the story!.... NightShade The President's Club by NightShade Chapter 1first posted 4/97, major revision 12/98 The young wife gazed nervously into the full-length mirror on the door of her closet. She almost didn't recognize the gorgeous creature standing in front of her. So much had happened to her in the last couple of months. So much about her life had changed and been turned upside down. Still, she didn't think she was there yet, wherever `there' was. She felt like a pupa stuck in mid-metamorphosis. She wasn't a caterpillar anymore and not yet a butterfly, either. She knew that tonight was the next step. She didn't know how she knew. She could just feel it. Maybe it was just because she wanted so badly for something to happen. Something would happen tonight, something to happen tonight to complete her metamorphosis, make her whole. Her whole being yearned for that to happen. Yet as excited as she was about tonight, she was even more afraid. God knew she didn't have a good track record with her relationships up to this point in her young life. She pessimistically wondered how she was going to mess this one up. As she stared at the emerging butterfly in the mirror, she thought back on the events leading up to this night. How? Why? =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Karin's life was a mess. A total mess. But that was nothing new. It had always been a mess.... She was just 18 years old, and had barely graduated High School with a D average. The irony that her grade point average was the same as her bra cup size didn't escape her. She thought it was funny. Her teachers would have been stunned to learn that she not only knew what irony was, but that she could identify aspects of it in her own life, and see the humor as well. She wasn't stupid. She was just easily distracted, bored and terribly insecure, which she hid from everyone by being aloof. Unfortunately, her body had encouraged all kinds of distractions from the boys at her high school. Karin was tall for a girl, almost 6 feet tall, feminine and graceful. Her aloofness scared all but the most aggressive boys and kept them from asking her out. They just didn't know how to deal with a female that didn't pant like a bitch in heat. They never found out it was an act, a sham. The ones who did ask her out were treated with icy coolness. Look but don't touch. She was a trophy date to take to the country club or the prom, but never into the backseat. Which was surprising, considering how universally horny teenage boys are and how drop-dead beautiful Karin was. Her face was regal, more serious than she was. Clear blue eyes, blonde hair, a long, graceful neck. Smooth, rounded shoulders tapered into delicate arms, ending in soft slender fingers. Her legs drew a lot of attention, especially in Spring and Summer when she wore shorts. They had been a featured attraction ever since the sixth grade when she sprouted up. They were constantly a source of embarrassment to her. When she sat and innocently crossed them in class, or when she walked down the hall, they drew unwanted attention to her. They were endless and the short skirts she wore emphasized their length and shapeliness. Her hips flared nicely, but still retained the trimness of a younger girl. The firm clean lines of her ass cheeks swayed when she walked down the school hallways, never failing to bring at least one, if not a chorus of whistles behind her. Her breasts, however, were truly amazing. They were huge, stupendous, but her height made them seem almost proportionate to her body. Almost. The sensuously rounded orbs sat high and proud on her broad chest, firm and large, defying laws of gravity and physics by standing straight out without support. At their quivering tips were quarter-sized circles colored a dusky pink with perfectly centered crinkled red buttons that always seemed to be sticking out through whatever she was wearing. Early on, she had been proud of her chesty development until the girls in her gym class had spited her in their juvenile envy. The very same girls who had been her `best' friends the year before ostracized her when her tits ballooned over the summer. She was never invited to any more parties, sleepovers, nor included in the gossip. The boys on the other hand, although they pestered her a lot, mostly just looked, drooled and jacked off. They were immature and the image she presented to them made them nervous. Even the quarterback of the football team fumbled around her. She had been the chief actress in many a high school fantasy and wet dream but ended up dateless on most Saturday nights. When she did date, they went one of two ways. Either the boys were so overwhelmed with her beauty and nearness that they creamed their shorts just sitting beside her, or they would explode at her, and try to rape her. Those who exploded at her also exploded in their shorts. None of the immature bastards even tried to kiss her. It they had only known.... Her home life had not been much better. Her mother drank a lot, her father fooled around a lot, or at least, that's what the neighbors said. The times Karin had liked best were when her mother was unconscious and her father was `out of town'. On those nights at least, although she was alone, neither one of them would beat her or humiliate her. So it was not surprising that when Mr. Saunders, a wealthy businessman from the big city, showed an interest in her, she was drawn to him. He had chanced to see her walking home from school as he drove through her small town. He had been looking for a service station. He was so impressed he decided to stay and look into this statuesque creature. He was a big man, tall and handsome. She looked like she would be an ideal set piece for him. When he approached her, he did so without fear or nervousness. Not at all like the boys who stammered and gasped. As she thought back, she figured she must have fallen in love with him when he introduced himself. He treated her so kind, and was the perfect gentleman on every one of their dates. He didn't try to kiss her or have sex with her or touch her during their whirlwind courtship. Never once did she sense he had soiled himself. She took this to be a measure of his self-control. In her short life, Karen had never met a man like Bill Saunders. Not because he was a gentleman, intelligent and refined, but because he was gay. Bill's business was in a close-knit industry that demanded a "normal" family image and he desperately needed a wife. His initial assessment of Karin was confirmed as he researched her family and the boring little town: Karin was the perfect trophy wife. Beautiful and dumb, a girl no one cared about. He quietly gave her parents $10,000 cash at their daughter's wedding to forget about her. No phone calls, no letters, no visits, no contact at all. With that much money for booze, it was guaranteed they wouldn't remember anything for long. Bill had insisted that Karin pack up everything that was hers in her parents house and bring it with her when she moved to the big city. He wanted no traces of her left behind, no little articles or knick-knacks to stir long forgotten memories in her parents minds of their one and only child. He needn't have bothered. Her parents had resented her from her conception. Her striking beauty and aloofness had only infuriated them more. They resented how plain and ordinary she made them feel. They accused her of disdain. Karin was already forgotten before she and her new husband had left town following the small reception. Her parents both drank themselves to death within two months. The local banker, seeking to curry favor with the big city businessman, contacted Bill about their deaths. Bill didn't tell Karin, so she didn't go to the funeral. The marriage had been six months ago and her brief, 6- month marriage to the 55-year-old successful businessman was a total failure. Nothing worked between them. No matter what she tried, no matter how hard she worked to please him, she always upset him. She couldn't relate to her husband's work or his education. She never thought it might not be her fault. The fa‡ade of her fairy-tale marriage to the handsome Bill Saunders had started cracking on their wedding night. He had complained of a headache, of all things, that first night. The second night he passed out drunk, something she was used to. The honeymoon had ended abruptly with a well-planned emergency in another city. He apologized, but was sure she would understand. Other business trips came up and he was away for weeks at a time. When he was home, he came back from the office late at night. She had been married for six months and was still a virgin. To her way of thinking, she had been a failure as a daughter, she had been a failure in high school and now she was a failure as a wife. She even thought she was a failure as a woman. She had realized her husband was gay early on, but thought she was the reason for it. At first it was the pool man who only came to clean the pool when Bill was home. The job always seemed to take two people, especially the part that took them into the cabana out behind the pool. It wasn't until she needed to turn off the pool filter one day and looked for the filter equipment in the small outbuilding that she found there was no reason for them to be in there. Lately it had been the butler that didn't butler. Her new home was a big house and she initially appreciated the gesture from Bill to provide her with some help. She didn't think twice about the butler moving into the quarters off the kitchen. That's what a butler did. But this one did more. And less. He was absolutely no help to her around the house. As time passed, the relationship between the three of them became tense. The normal roles of husband and wife were mixed up helter skelter. Karin became more and more isolated and alone. She had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. She never went out, she didn't drive, and she had no friends. She didn't know anyone but Bill and the household staff. The cook only spoke Spanish, the gardener was deaf, and the butler, well, the butler resented her very existence. That had been made very clear to her two weeks ago. Two weeks ago, Bill and the "butler", Bruce, had surprised her as she lay sunning herself by the pool. Bill insisted that she maintain her youthful appearance and beauty. He liked her to appear as if they had spent time on the islands, so she spent as much of her time in the sun as possible. As his trophy wife, she had the finest clothes to wear, and, of course, the tiniest bikinis. That afternoon, as she lay soaking up the last of the day's light, the two men had quietly sneaked up behind her and overpowered her. She had been immediately blindfolded. A thick hand towel had been stuffed, crammed in her mouth by one of them. Bruce, she thought. Her arms had been pulled hard behind her back as she lay struggling on her stomach. Her assailant tied them with a piece of stiff twine or wire. It was tied tight and cut deeply into her wrists. There was no love or tenderness in either of the men's actions. She had been picked up, thrown over a shoulder, and hauled like an old rug down into the basement. There, they had strung her up and proceeded to torment her as only two misogynistic men were capable of. Her hands had been re-tied from behind her back to the thick pipes running overhead, leaving her feet dangling about two inches off the floor. As tall as she was, her feet didn't reach the floor to support her. They had not bothered to take off her skimpy covering, but merely pushed the tiny triangles of her bikini top up off her firm tits and yanked the bottoms down around her thighs. Doing it that way made her feel more exposed and naked than if she had been completely nude. Bruce, the sadistic butler, had started slapping her firm tits with his hands. He had to reach up to hit her chest, but he still managed to hit her hard. He was a wimpy, emasculated, effeminate man and was jealous of Karin's femininity. He was especially jealous of her natural charm and beauty and above all, her perfectly rounded tits. He began to work her tits over, going from slapping them side to side to using them as a punching bag, hitting them straight on with his closed fists. Karin screamed into the towel gag as the blows jarred her body. He was working so hard that the sweat was running down, staining his silk pajamas. Sadist that he was, he got excited beating up a helpless woman. His erection tented the loose-fitting pants until the tip slipped out between the buttons of the fly. The short pink organ was highlighted against the black shiny fabric. Bill watched as Bruce tormented the stupid country girl that he had married. That's essentially how he thought of the cunt. Too dumb to boil water. But with her folks gone, he figured he could be a respectable widower in a year of so. No one would miss the bitch. Until then, though, he figured he might as well get all the mileage out of little wifey as he could. This whole brutality thing had been the butler's idea. It hadn't escaped his notice that it had been Bruce's idea that had gotten him into this mess with the big Hong Kong bank in the first place. Now it was the butler's idea to get out of that trouble with the bank by prostituting his wife to the bank's president. All they had to do was to get Karin to go along with the idea. Bruce had convinced him that beating the shit out of her was the only way to convince her to follow through with it even if they weren't around to make sure. Bill watched the barbaric butler beat on Karin a little longer. He wasn't sure but he thought he detected a subtle change in the girl's reactions to the punishing blows. Her screams had softened to moans and were coming less frequently, but that could be exhaustion. Her pink nipples seemed to be puffing up and darkening in hue, but that could be due to the beating they were taking. He was not an expert in female sexual responses - he had never had an interest in it - but he thought he noticed moisture seeping from between her flailing thighs. That one had him stumped. For her part, Karin had been taken by surprise by her reactions. The blindfold confused her and she couldn't get her bearings. She never realized how much she relied on her sight. She wondered if perhaps they were just playing a trick on her. Then she thought they were really kidnappers, until they spoke to one another and she recognized their voices. Why would her husband want to do this to her? The ropes around her wrists had hurt, but there was also another deeper feeling building insider her she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was like it was OK what was happening. It was like security blanket, the feeling that she was not in control. Whatever happened, she was not responsible, there was no pressure on her to act in any particular way. She couldn't screw this up. It was comforting in a strange way and she relaxed and let it happen to her. She had gone limp as they had lifted her and allowed them to hoist her over a shoulder. She didn't resist as they had strung her from the overhead pipes in the basement. She had blushed, unnoticed, when her breasts and pussy had been exposed, but that blush quickly faded as Bruce, she had guessed correctly, had started slapping and then punching her in the tits and tummy. The initial slaps had surprised her and the sudden pain in her boobs had made her scream. It was the only defense she had left. The pain had quickly been replaced by surprisingly intense pleasant feelings that zipped straight to her cunt. The wonderful tingling had built with each slap and punch of her tits. Tensed and primed by endless hours of using her finger as her sole source of pleasure, the virgin wife was quickly teetering on the edge of a ripping climax. For the first time in her life, she felt really alive. She was charged up. Something wonderful was going to happen, she could feel it building in her sopping cunt. Whether Bruce sensed her impending orgasm, or whether he just got lucky doesn't matter much, because just as she was about to free fall over the edge, he punched the defenseless dangling girl in her relaxed, untrained stomach with two powerful jabs. The air was forced completely from her lungs, squelching any possibility of her pending orgasm. Bill stepped in to stop the raging butler from doing too much damage to the gasping woman. They did, after all, have to keep her in relatively good shape for her `date'. "My turn, Brucie. Why don't you rest a while?" Bruce was in a blood rage and wasn't about to quit. All the frustrations he had had all his life at having a female mind and a male body were finally coming out. Anger at all the teasing from the other kids. Anger that this cunt was his lover's legal wife. He turned to Bill, whining. "Just a little longer, Bill. The bitch deserves it." "No, Bruce. That's not the reason we're here, now, is it? We can't be selling damaged goods to this client now, can we?" The mention of the banker calmed Bruce down. That mean son of a bitch would make this beating seem like a ballroom dance lesson. Bruce had worked for the banker up until last year. The banker had fired him after it was discovered Bruce had embezzled a lot of money from him. More than a lot. Too much money for the bank to publicly admit to, and still keep the confidence of its depositors. Way too much for the banker to admit to the board of directors and still keep his job. Bruce had been well aware of the banker's reputation with the ladies. The ones he dated always seemed to have trouble sitting down - or even moving without a gasp of pain, for that matter - after a `date' with him. After talking with a couple of them, quietly, of course, Bruce had discovered that the banker liked to tie up his unsuspecting victims, then spank and whip them mercilessly. Bruce had never known a girl to voluntarily go on a second date with the banker. Bill was not aware that the banker and Bruce knew each other. Bill was the rich patsy Bruce was using to pay the banker back for the money he had stolen. The money that could be skimmed from the new building loan for the new manufacturing plant should more than cover his losses. The rest was just gravy for the banker. Being the thorough man that he was, the banker researched all potential relationships before he made a move. Bruce, the flaming gay, had been forced on the bank by the fucking liberals and their EEOC policies. He had simply shown up in his department with the access codes. Those idiots in Personnel hadn't even done a resume check. By the time the money was missing, it was too late to point fingers. It was his responsibility by then. And he was pissed. So when he finally did move to get his due, he applied the screws to both Bill and Bruce. He had them right where he wanted them. He had been quietly pressing Bruce to get his money back, and then began blackmailing Bill when he found out he was gay, and was that Bruce was living with him. Butler, my ass... He had seen Karin by the pool on one of his rare visits to Bill's mansion. That day he had been there to pick up a late payment, and his mood was foul. He had walked by the huge windows that overlooked the pool, automatically glanced out, a flash of color catching his attention. He nearly stumbled over a chair as he had done a double take at the sight of the beautiful near-naked creature lying there. His research had not picked up this piece of information. His eyes had glazed over, his heart beat like a trip hammer and his cock swelled up like a young bull in mating season. He let the two faggots know of a way to cancel the rest of the debt. Just one weekend with the girl. Longer, if it worked out. The two gay lovers couldn't agree fast enough to give him Karin. Any way he wanted her. Bill didn't mention that she was his wife, but it wouldn't have mattered to the banker. They made arrangements for three weeks hence. She would be moved to an isolated apartment, unprotected, no alarms and no neighbors. Bill smiled coldly as he thought of the perfect location. All they had to do was get her to cooperate for the first part of the date. Bruce thought that with the bitch out of the way and out of the house, he could consolidate his position with this rich businessman. For his part, Bill felt he had to protect his business at all costs. Karin, to him, was simply an asset he was finally able to put to use. The banker had threatened to expose him to his more pious colleagues, and he couldn't let that happen. They would drum him out of business within a month. They wouldn't even need proof. Just the rumor. God knows he'd ruined one of his more pesky competitors that way and had passed on his share of gossip that he was sure had no basis in truth. He was in a precarious position, and he knew it. Karin was a write-off. So was Bruce, as soon as this was finished. So they ended up in the basement, with Bruce using Karin as a punching bag to get her to agree to the deal. Bill stepped up to the gasping girl. Tears leaked out below the blindfold and streaked down her flushed cheeks. Reaching out with both hands, he captured a bruised swollen nipple between each thumb and forefinger. Somewhat distastefully, he rolled them around, stimulated the hard buttons until they puffed up even larger. "Karin, I want you to listen very carefully. I need you to do something for me. It's very important. If you don't agree to do it, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to let Bruce hit you some more until you do. Do you understand me?" Karin fearfully nodded her head in the direction of the voice. She wasn't afraid of what Bruce might do to her. She was afraid, because this was the most words he had spoken to her since the day they were married. And he was talking to her as if she were an adult, too. If it was that important, she just knew she would mess it up. "I want you to escort a friend of mine to a dance at a convention. He is a very important man and you will be nice to him. OK?" Again she nodded, puzzled. All this for a date? Bill twisted her nipples viciously, threatening to rip them off. "I mean very nice, bitch. Do you understand what I mean? You will do anything he wants, right? Anything!" The tight twisting of her nipples sent Karin over the edge she had been close to before the wind was knocked out of her. Skyrockets of light burst in her head and her cunt gushed slippery fluids down her long tanned thighs. She whipped her head back and forth in her ecstasy, screaming into the towel. This was better than her fingers by a long ways. "Right, bitch?" Bill demanded again, emphasizing the question with another sadistic twist. Coming down from her orgasm, Karin weakly nodded her agreement. "What a fucking whore!" muttered Bruce, standing off to one side. "A fucking good-for-nothing cunt!" He had wanted her to resist. He had dreamed of her resisting, ever since Bill had agreed to this bizarre technique. Turning to Bill, he pleaded, "Let me give her some more, just to make sure she understands. Please?" "No," came the answer. Bill looked at the hanging girl. He noticed the excessive wetness between her thighs and poked an exploratory finger up into her pussy. Karin jerked spastically at the unaccustomed intrusion by someone else's finger. His manicured finger slithered between her slick puffy lips and entered her virginal tunnel. Part way in, the tip encountered a tough membrane. A look of surprise crossed his face, followed quickly by outright rage. "You BITCH!" he exploded, "You're still a fucking VIRGIN! I figured you would have at least gotten rid of it in high school. Shit! You're too fucking stupid to have even done that right" He looked around in a blind rage, seeking something, anything, to show her how incredibly worthless she was. Spying the perfect object, he grinned wickedly. It was just what he wanted. He stepped over to the cleaning closet and pulled out a soiled, stinking toilet plunger. Pulling a condom from the pocket of his open robe, he ripped opened the foil and slipped it onto the dirty wooden handle. Bruce watched the proceedings with excited bright eyes, his stubby hardon bouncing with each beat of his rapidly beating heart. This was going to be even better than he had dared hope. He quivered with anticipation, his hand lost in the folds of his pajamas as he stroked his puny dick. Bill strode back over to his suspended wife. He set the plunger on the floor next to her. Reaching up he grabbed the bottoms of her bikini and jerked the useless fabric off her thighs. "Bruce, hold her legs apart. We've got a block in the plumbing and a helper to help," he said maliciously. Bruce quickly moved behind the dazed girl and squatted down. He wanted to see this close up. This should finish the bitch. Raped by the plumber's helper. He grabbed an ankle in each hand and spread them as wide as he could. Karin was now struggling as best she could, but she was tired. She had been hanging for almost 30 minutes and her shoulders and arms were sore from the strain. Each weak kick of her legs jerked her stressed joints painfully. It couldn't be good what they had planned. She had never heard such an evil tone, from anyone, much less her husband. She suddenly realized she didn't really know this man. She cried out fearfully, but it was too late. Her strength was sapped. Bruce didn't have too difficult a job to spread her shapely legs and expose the target to Bill's advancing plunger. He gripped her slim ankles tighter than he needed to, leaving angry red marks on them. Karin was not aware that she was about to be mechanically violated. She had heard the two men talking. She figured out that Bill was going to finally make her a woman. If it hadn't been for his anger and tone of voice, she would have been excited about it because she had waited for six months for him to exercise his conjugal rights. And now he was. She was unprepared for the sudden jab of the long hard handle into her cunt. The unlubricated condom irritated the sensitive tender skin in her cunt. After advancing about two inches, the blunted head hit her hymen. She screamed into the thick towel gagging her. The pain was blinding, different than before. This just fucking hurt. Bill nodded silently to Bruce, who tightened his grip on her ankles. With a fierce hateful yell and a twisting lunge, Bill shoved the handle forcefully into Karin's virgin tunnel, forcing the handle of the plunger past the thin membrane barrier. It parted with an almost audible tearing sound. Karin screamed into the gag in horror, almost freeing her legs from the vicious grasp. White hot flashes coursed through her body. Searing, horrible pain. This was awful. The handle continued in until the serial numbers on the condom covering the top of it were hidden in her soft pussy hairs. Bill yanked the handle out, then jabbed the handle in, then out, then in and out twice more. Satisfied that the disgusting unused conjugal passage was now clear, and his precious reputation protected, he set the toilet plunger down carefully on the basement floor. He wiped his shit covered hands on her heaving tits. Bruce and Bill untied Karin's hands and let her drop heavily to the floor. Her rubbery legs wouldn't support her. They left her lying there to come to by herself. Bill also left the bloody rubber on the handle of the stinking plunger. He wanted that bloody post to be the first thing that she saw. He hoped she realized it for what it was - her first lover. Chapter 2That had been two weeks ago. Karin had crawled painfully up the stairs out of the basement, then up more stairs to her room. She hurt all over. She was confused. The next day, she was efficiently moved to a small apartment in one of the company's commercial warehouses downtown. Not an excess word was exchanged between the three of them. Bill had the cook had come in to her room early in the morning and pack a few of her things while she was in the shower. By the time she made her way out of the bathroom, there was a pair of shorts and a halter-top laid out on the bed. She dressed herself in those and she left the mansion in a taxi. She wasn't offered any breakfast. The building they moved her into was in one of the older industrial sections of town. The apartment had it's own separate entrance via the parking garage. Originally it had been designed to house an on-site General Manager of a factory. Built in the twenties or thirties, it was big and solid. One of the previous owners had sealed off and isolated from the work area. The factory was long since abandoned, and the building was now used as an overflow storehouse for raw materials. The inside of the warehouse was gritty with dirt, vermin and disuse. The apartment, although separate, had been vacant for a long time and some of the grime of the warehouse filtered into it. It was dirty, smelly, and in the middle of nowhere. As far as she knew, Bill had intended this to be an insult to her. She identified with the little apartment, however. It felt like she and it belonged together. Just before she had closed the door to the taxi, the cook had shoved an envelope into her hands. She sat down and read the short, terse note inside. She learned that Bill had provided her a bank account. Each week, money would be deposited into the account automatically, provided she 'behaved herself.' Food would be delivered by a `local' store, all she had to do was call and order. There were directions for her to go shopping for a suitable dress at a fancy boutique the next week. Bill would have been astonished had he seen his beaten wife's expression. Karin was literally astonished at her new wealth and the wonderful apartment. She had more money now than she ever had before, and she was happy to be alone on her own. She sat for a long time on the dirty couch, hugging herself, laughing joyously at her freedom. She immediately threw herself into various diversions. Part of the first day was spent examining the rooms, determining what needed to be done to fix up the old apartment. There was surprisingly little to do, other than cleaning. It had apparently been a luxury apartment at one time with an extra-large bath, a beautiful rooftop patio with a hot tub, and good quality solid furniture. But that had been several years ago, as was obvious from the out of date fabric and fashion of the furnishings. Karin had plunged into what she knew best. Hell, it was all she knew how to do. Housework. She had swept and cleaned and scrubbed, put up new drapes. dusted and swept and mopped the floors. The activity helped keep her mind occupied. For about a day and a half. Then she set about re-arranging the furniture to her liking. During the re-arranging process, she discovered that Bill had lived in the apartment, long ago, when he was just starting out. This must have been one of the first buildings to house his company's manufacturing plant. She discovered a section of a diary kept by a much younger Bill. The bound notebook had been wedged down behind a section of a bookcase and the wall. It had apparently fallen down and was forgotten when he moved out. She didn't know at first what it was and was about to toss it out when a clipping from an old newspaper fluttered to the ground. Picking up the clipping, she read it. Her interest piqued, she leafed through the book, looking for other information. What she found stunned her. The diary picked up in the middle of an involved plot, as this was just one section of a multi-volume diary. The more she read, the more familiar names she read, names she had heard in the last six months. They were the names of Bill's competitors and clients. Some were unfamiliar. But she got the gist of it. In Bill's own writing were detailed plots he had made to destroy one of his rivals. As far as she could see, the only thing the rival had done was to be an honest businessman. There were several sneering passages about how goody- goody the bastard was. At first, she thought the plotting had just been theories, mock rage stuff. Then, as she read the daily entries, the chilling story unfolded. It told how, after careful planning, Bill had set in motion a fabrication of lies and half-truths that had wiped the man out. The passages became savage, describing the depths to which the man had fallen. Bill described how the man had come to him, not knowing it had been Bill who had planned and started the whole thing. Bill described how he had `helped' the guy out - for a price, of course. That price was a partnership in the failing company. What chilled Karin to the bone was that the old newspaper clipping was the story of the gruesome murder- suicide of the broken man and his wife. A couple of the passages in the diary led her to believe it had not been a voluntary suicide, but that someone, namely Bill, had been there to help him out of his misery. The same misery Bill had put him in. The thought that Bill was that calculating, that cold, that unfeeling hit her like a hammer. It suddenly became very clear to her that she had to grow up, take charge of her life. Now, this didn't happen like a bolt of lightning from the sky, but the mental shift was there. Being alone and on her own for the first time helped. But she also realized that she was totally unprepared for living in a cruel world. Such deep thoughts were frightening to her. She tried to keep as busy as she could during the day by exploring the blocks surrounding the apartment. She would walk for hours, pushing her body until the soreness from the beating was indistinguishable from the soreness of the overworked muscles. Gradually, she healed. She was even able to wear heavier blouses and shirts over her tenderized breasts. She had been receiving a lot of cat-calls and wolf whistles on her walks around the area. Some of the guys were gross, but a couple of them were cute, too. Although she still wasn't comfortable with all the attention blatant sexuality, she was making tremendous strides in her level of self-confidence. Besides, she kind of liked turning on all those men. She had discovered, drained, cleaned and filled the hot tub on the terrace, and was pleasantly surprised when it ran perfectly. It had been an exorbitant luxury when it was installed 20-25 years ago and it had been built to last. She enjoyed the hot soothing bubbling water often in the evenings. It felt so decadent to be naked in the middle of downtown and outside in the open air. She spent hours soaking in the bubbling water, letting the soothing currents soak away the last of her aches and pains. She kind of zoned out in the hot tub. The cares of the day and the fears of tomorrow faded away. But eventually she had to get out of the water. To try to sleep. It seemed to her that she would lay in bed all night long as her thoughts raced forwards to her date. She wondered what the man would be like. What would he ask her to do? Could she do it? Could she not do it? Then the itching would start. It was the kind of itch she couldn't quite scratch. But she tried to and she would almost succeed. She would then remember those intense feelings she had felt in the basement at the hands of those two sadistic brutes. Fresh tears of humiliation would fill her eyes as she realized just how turned on she had been at the rough treatment they had given her. Her cheeks would flame red with her shame, but even embarrassment could not diminish the rising urgency of her need. Pushing her shame aside, she focused on trying to feel that same sexual rush again. Her fingers blurred in between her legs in frustrated persistence as the itch wouldn't go away and she couldn't get off. After several frustrating nights, she started doing things to try to get herself off. Like pinching her nipples hard. Like Bill had done that night that had felt soooo goood. That stimulus worked for a while, but it wasn't enough. Something was missing. She started to play with some old cords from the drapes, first twisting them around her legs, binding them tightly together. The heat she felt in her sex told her she was on the right track. While her feet and legs were tied, she fantasized about being totally controlled, totally restrained. The idea made her hotter and wetter between her legs. She tried running the cords through her legs and pulling the twisted strands up tight against her pussy. She twisted the ends in her hands and sawed the braided coarse rope back and forth across her clit. She managed to cum a couple of times that way, too, but something was still missing. These limited excursions led to her attempting full self-bondage. First she would tie her ankles together and secure them to the foot of the bed with a short rope. She tied her knees together next. She put another band of cords across her calves and one around her mid-thighs. Again, the tightly tied ropes cut into her skin, dividing her shapely pins into segments. She would then twist a rope belt around her waist and knot it tight, squeezing in her waspish waist. She could then run a rope through her tightly closed thighs. She tied one end to the belt in the small of her back and pulled the rope in front up tight between her cunt lips so that it pressed against her clit and her asshole. She didn't tie the front until later. She had pondered what to do about her breasts, and had tried many ways to stimulate them. She finally came up with a way that satisfied her. A loop of thin cord was placed around the base of each tit, hard against her chest. She pulled each of the loops tight as if to try to separate her tits from her chest. A second loop placed about midway up around each ballooning boob was tied with a slipknot. She held the ends of those in her mouth. She then pulled the cunt cord firmly into her pussy and tied it to the corded belt in front. A cord looped around the post in the headboard ended in a slipknot to hold her hands up over her head. By pulling the knot tight after raising her arms over her head and slipping her hands through the slip knot, she could close her eyes and pretend she was tied tight, thrashing around on the over-sized canopied bed. She would spend hours in this position at night working out her sexual frustrations, flexing her hips to rub the cord against her magic button, stimulating herself to orgasm after orgasm. But there was still something missing. It just wasn't complete, somehow. She was frustrated that she had to leave an escape route by tying a bowknot in the cord that tied her arms to the headboard. The only time she really got off and lost herself in the feeling of helplessness was the time the cord holding her arms over her head twisted and got a kink in it. The knot stuck and there was a half-hour of panic-filled orgasmic struggling. She so enjoyed that time, she seriously contemplated not using an escape route and just masturbating herself until she died of starvation. But if she did that, she would miss her appointment with the mysterious stranger. And that date and that unknown man were becoming increasingly important to her. Call it curiosity, call it duty. She didn't know. All she knew was that he was important to Bill and that Bill owed him something. She felt no loyalty to her faux husband anymore, but she had said she would do this. Her word had to mean something, right? Added to all of the mysteriousness was one burning bit of information. Probably the most important one to her. As she had left the mansion for the last time, Bruce had maliciously pulled her aside. With evil intent, he had instructed her very specifically to ask the man she was going out with to do something to her. Something kinky. She was to ask him to tie her up and then to spank her. While telling her to do this, Bruce had threatened her with a very large knife that had frightened her terribly, especially because Bruce was the one holding it and she thought he was crazy. Bruce had intended that this information about what she was suppose to ask the man to do to her that night would terrorize her, scare her out of her mind. It did just the opposite. Those sinister instructions he had whispered to her fed her nighttime fantasies. She was very much looking forward to her 'date' with the mysterious man. ------------------------------------------------------- -------- Karin shook her head to clear these thoughts. She still stood in front of the full-length mirror on her closet door. She had deliberated a long time about what she would wear tonight. She had spent longer shopping at the exclusive boutique. She didn't know her mystery man's name, or anything about him. He was just a blind date she was to ask to do kinky things to her. The titillating thrill had a slight taste of fear mixed in as it swept through her at the thought of the unknown adventure on which she was embarking. Goose bumps rose on her silky skin. She watched in the mirror as the tiny bumps slowly faded away and she shivered again. Her perfect, silky skin covering her breasts was clear once more. The effects of the beating and rape by Bill and Bruce had faded on her skin, if not in her memory. She examined her youthful body closely. Other than the goose bumps that were still visible on the rosy tips of her breasts, her body was flawless. The bumps on her boobs made a miniature circular mountain range with the semi-erect nipple in the center. Her breasts rode firm and high on her chest, the effects of age and gravity not yet evident. Small triangular patches of creamy white skin surrounded by a golden tan indicated the minuscule size of her bikini top. A similar white triangle pointed like an arrow to the secret place between her legs. The rest of her body was a healthy golden tan, but not a deep one. She did not want to have to deal with anymore wrinkles than she had to later on in life. She pulled on a thin black thong panty that just covered the white triangle. It would be her sole undergarment tonight. Her nylon stockings gripped the tops of her shapely thighs. Her long legs were accented by the sheen of the fabric. The distinctly feminine curves of her upper thighs held them up with ease, with no need for garters or leg bands. She had to honestly evaluate herself as beautiful and desirable. This ability to appraise herself honestly was new to her. Her shyness was rapidly slipping away as she turned into a woman who would make her own decisions from now on. Why a man had never fuck her was a mystery to her, especially as she had been married for six months! Her increased sexual tensions in the last two weeks heightened her awareness of her sensuality and sex appeal. She was going to go all out tonight. She wanted to be fucked, and soon. Picking up her dress, she slipped it over her head and let it settle gracefully over her trim body. The dress was ivory white on top with a jet-black micro skirt. The fabric was translucent and filmy, like fine satin. Reaching behind her waist, she zipped up the short zipper and fastened the single hook closure at the top. This pulled the close-fitting material in tight across her upper thighs, hips, and lower abdomen. She looked closely and could see the faint dark outline of the black panties over her pubic patch, as well as every hair, dimple and ripple as she moved. The stretchy fabric molded to her like a second skin and it would be obvious to everyone who looked exactly what she was wearing underneath her short skirt. There was no back to the upper part of the dress starting from the top of the skirt. The creamy white front panel hung loosely around her body, dangling precariously from a pair of fragile thin spaghetti straps that tied behind her neck. Karin tied the straps a couple of times, adjusting the scooped neck to hang at different levels, finally deciding on a length that allowed the front of the dress to readily fall away from her chest. When that happened, it exposed her completely from her neck to her navel. When she twirled around, the wind would catch the sides of the dress, billowing them out to expose her magnificent breasts from the sides. "Well, that should give him an eye-full!" she said to no one in particular. She experimented with the dress, spinning around a couple of times. "I hope he likes it. I know I do." She selected a pair of high heels that accentuated her height. The five-inch heels pushed her to almost six and a half feet tall. She had no idea of the devastating impact her height would have on a short man or one of average stature. She only knew she looked very sexy in these heels, and she wanted to look sexy for this mystery man. How would he know she wanted him to fuck her senseless if she didn't look sexy for him? She had just thrown a sheer white shawl around her shoulders when the limo arrived in the downstairs parking garage. Just like his message had said. The note, with a white wrist corsage, had been delivered to her apartment this morning. There was no name, just that a driver would show for her at 6:00 sharp, and to please be prompt. The driver got out of the car and rang the bell. She hurried to the elevator and went down to meet the waiting driver. The stoic chauffeur gave a visible start when he saw the extraordinary beauty who stood in the open elevator. He gave an embarrassed grin at his lapse, then bowed formally and opened the rear door of the limo for her. She stepped gracefully into the luxurious passenger area and settled back into a decadently soft leather seat. The windows were tinted so dark, Karin imagined she could be naked and no one outside would know. A glass of freshly poured champagne was waiting for her on the small tray beside her seat. She picked it up and took a sip. It was delicious and the bubbles tickled her nose. She hardly noticed they had pulled away from the curb and were on the way to meet her mysterious man. Two glasses of bubbly later the car drove into the underground garage of a large downtown corporate building. The driver pulled up next to a brightly-lit elevator door. "Top floor, Miss," said the driver, turning around. He paused, stunned once more by her beauty. Uncharacteristically he added, "Have a good time." She flashed him a sincere 'Thank you' smile and stepped out of the car. Her 5-inch heels caught her by surprise when she took her first steps. She stumbled slightly when one slipped off her foot. She was not quite used to wearing them. The alcohol made her kind of tipsy, as well. As she bent to retrieve her errant shoe, she thought of the childhood fairy tale and the glass slipper. An uncharacteristic giggle took control of her and eased some of the building tension in her. Finished putting her shoe on, she stood and walked purposefully over to the open elevator. She stepped in, surveyed her options, and giggled again. No more champagne for her! She paused and took a deep breath, clearing her head. This was it, time to get serious. She pushed the top button, waving goodbye to the driver as the door closed on her past. She was on her way. She wondered if Cinderella had been this scared on her way to the ball. Chapter 3 The elevator doors opened silently on a sumptuous boardroom that had been converted into a ballroom. There was music playing, performed by a live 8-piece orchestra. Karin was impressed. Not that she had ever seen a room this nice before. She had never heard a live orchestra before. She stood still and let the soothing sounds steady her nerves. Several people looked up as the opening doors announced her arrival. She stepped out of the elevator and waited, her hands hanging easily by her side. This was as far as her instructions took her. She had not screwed it up. That part of her was gone forever. A well-dressed man stepped forward to meet her. "Karin Saunders?" he asked. "Yes, I'm Karin." He smiled warmly at her and held out his hand. "Welcome to the President's Ball. Thank you so much for coming. My name is 'Sam Adams', and I am to be your escort for the evening." He continued in a conspiratorial tone, as if she were being let in on a secret. "This is an annual event. All of the men here are presidents of their companies." While he was speaking to her, she tried to scope him out with a casual glance. What she saw started her heart racing. Her breath came in short gasps. She knew her cheeks were flushing crimson and that she was now staring at him openly. She did manage to close her mouth before it gaped all the way open. She felt her nipples harden and poke through the thin fabric of the dress. She began to wonder if she had made a mistake about flaunting herself so openly tonight. Sam Adams was a handsome man. Definitely! He looked to be about 45 years old and tall. He was taller than she was in her heels. He had a strong face, rugged features, and kind eyes that crinkled when he grinned. She saw his eyes dance excitedly as he looked her over as well, his gaze dwelling briefly on her exposed nipples. She blushed deeply again, but knew instinctively that the dress had not been a mistake. Tonight she would get fucked. Finally! His chest was broad and his waist was slim. He obviously kept himself in top shape and watched his diet. She took his offered hand in hers and smiled up at him. His hand was smooth but strong. It excited her to touch him, stirring her emotions. There were no sharp calluses or nails. A man of wealth, but what else had she expected? He had been appraising her at the same time. What he saw set his sex drive on overload. It was all he could do to keep from ravishing her right there on the floor. It had been done before at these affairs, and often. He had seen a lot of potential in the young girl that one time he had seen her lying by the pool. But this was more than he had even hoped to imagine. She was a statuesque beauty - a vision of sexual delight and promise. But the was more. There was something about the look in her eyes that kept him from being able to catch his breath, as if she had a grip on his heart. It was an unaccustomed feeling for him. Taking her wrap and giving it to the hatcheck girl, he caught his breath once more as her gown was completely revealed to him. It confirmed what he had only suspected. She was totally on display for him tonight. He was enough of a cad to appreciate the effort she had gone to for him. He could see her nipples as they peeked through the thin fabric of the loose top. Her trim waist was highlighted by the hint of her miniscule panties, and, as she walked in front of him into the ballroom, he thought he could imagine the dark thin line of the narrow thong as it disappeared into her ass crack. Her tightly covered cheeks tantalized him as they swayed back and forth. Walking into the main area was like something out of an investment commercial, the one where every one listens when this guy speaks. Everyone stopped to look at them. The orchestra just happened to stop playing at the same time. Karin surveyed the room. There were several men in attendance, all of them with that certain air of self-confidence that made them seem debonair and handsome, regardless of their drivers license photo. They were obviously men of wealth. There were a few other women scattered around the room, as well. All of the women were young and pretty, some were beautiful, but none of them were close to Karin's class. She stood out not only because of her height, but because her poise and beauty set her apart as something truly special. Sam was gloating inside, beaming graciously outside. He had just won the contest for best date. It was sophomoric, he knew, but still, it was a big deal. Winning that contest meant that the next President's Ball would be at his company building. That meant he personally would get a percentage of all of the `contracts' negotiated on his premises. It was a point of honor among the members of the club to be truthful about the amounts of the contracts negotiated. The disclosure of the parties involved was another matter entirely, as the majority of those deals were probably illegal. But what the SEC didn't know. And besides all that, the pot for tonight's best date was over $100,000 cash, tax-free. Sam allowed a touch of smugness to touch his gracious smile. This arrangement with those two queers was beginning to pay off already. And he had yet to have his way with the guy's wife! Sam asked Karin to dance. They moved around the floor effortlessly. They fit together perfectly, and they danced as if they had danced a thousand times before. The first time he twirled her, his pupils widened at the peep show presented to him by the billowing dress. She saw his eyes glitter when his gaze dropped to her tits. She smiled happily up at him. He liked her! He saw that she had caught him looking at her chest and grinned sheepishly. It wasn't often that a woman - just a girl, actually - could make him feel like a bumbling teenager again. She saw his chagrined look and leaned her head against his chest with a sigh. She felt so safe with him. Sam. Sam Adams. It was a good name. One she would remember for a long time. They continued dancing and then he dipped her. The twin perky nipples of her breasts floated on globes of spongy flesh, slipping out from under the edge of the fabric. It looked like they winked up at him. He couldn't resist the tempting treat they offered. He bent his head and kissed each one lightly before raising her back upright. She giggled, her heart pounding. Her head was spinning, thrilled at the illicit sensations he had given her. She hugged herself to him tightly. "Oh, Sam! That tickled!" It was clear she wanted him to do it some more. He grinned to himself and lowered his hand to stroke her ass. His hand automatically molded to the rounded shape of her cheeks and squeezed firmly. After kissing her exposed nipples, he felt more in control of the situation. He was back in command, something he was used to. Still, her mere presence in his arms sent a thrill through him he had not felt in years, if ever. His swollen cock dug into her stomach as they continued to dance, holding each other tight. She felt his hard flesh rubbing up against her body and moaned. She took every opportunity to grind her throbbing pussy into his thigh. She was going to cum soon. She was suddenly frightened, wondering if perhaps that type of lewd display would displease him. She grit her teeth and held on to him tighter. Her hot moist breath saturated his starched white shirt. He seemed to read her mind as to the perilous closeness of her climax. He casually danced her over to a table and they sat down. Her breathing slowly calmed down, and she smiled her thanks to him with her clear blue eyes. Sam sat silently, entranced with this young girl, drinking in her beauty and grace and the raw sexual aura she exuded. Within minutes of them sitting down, one of the other gentlemen approached their table and asked her to dance with him. She immediately looked up at Sam, silently looking to him for direction, for what he wished her to do. He seemed somehow pleased at her actions. He nodded that it was `OK'. She danced with that first gentleman and with most of the other men in the room, as well. Maybe all of them, she wasn't sure. She only knew that she hardly sat down at all for a long time. Some of her partners were shorter and stared straight at her boobs the entire time they danced. Others were as tall or taller than Sam. To a man, they danced with her respectfully without groping, but each one twirled her around or dipped her, somehow managing to catch a close-up view of her magnificent unfettered breasts. It was after she had danced with Thomas Jefferson and George Washington, among others, that Karin finally figured out that the men at the dance were using false names. Why they were doing this, she didn't know. She also wondered casually who 'Sam Adams' really was, but strangely, it didn't concern her a whole lot. She was certain he would reveal himself to her when he was ready. She didn't seem overly concerned that she could not identify the building she was in, nor could she identify by name a single individual at the dance. There was no sense that she was in danger and it didn't enter her thoughts at all. After each dance, each with a different partner, she returned to Sam and sat beside him. Almost immediately, another club member would ask her to dance. Each time, she would look up to Sam for his permission. He smiled his approval at her behavior and deference to him. His approval pleased her beyond anything she had felt before. This stranger she had not known for more than two hours was making her feel as she had never felt. She honestly felt she would do anything to please him. She knew she could not mess up with him. That he approved of her. He was a magical man, this Sam Adams, whoever he was and Karin felt like she was in a fairy tale. Finally, as if by a signal, no one else asked her to dance. Sam indicated for her to sit in the seat beside him and she sat down, waiting expectantly. When nothing happened after a couple of minutes, she snuggled into Sam's side, relaxing. It felt good to get off her feet for a while. Just being next to him was turning her on again, though, and she squirmed impatiently in her chair. They sat and watched the others dancing by. Sam seemed content to have her sit silently beside him for now. The dancing she had done with the other gentlemen had warmed her up. Rivulets of sweat dripped down her chest making the thin fabric cling to her skin and appear transparent. Her tits were proudly on display for everyone to see. Everyone who passed their table looked appreciatively at her near naked beauty. Still impatient, she decided to go for it. She didn't know how to ask him to spank her and she just jumped in. "I haven't been too naughty tonight, have I?" she asked coyly. "Well, Karin, let's see now. If you had been naughty, I would have to spank you, wouldn't I?" he answered teasingly. Her heart jumped to her throat. There! It was out in the open. Oh, please, God. Please! She turned in her chair, facing him. Slowly and deliberately, she leaned forward slightly and thrust out her chest while shimmying her shoulders, exposing herself to him alone. "Is this naughty?" she asked him innocently. She shimmied her shoulders again so that her breasts jiggled invitingly. The blatant movement of her tits made her blush becomingly. She had never acted so brazen in her entire life. "I'd say it was very naughty, wouldn't you?" he murmured to her, not taking his eyes off her bobbing breasts for one instant. With the index finger of each hand, he caught the edges of the front panel of her dress and pulled it towards him. The fabric pulled away from her body, and from his point of view, she was exposed from her neck to her navel. "Oh my! Yes, I'm afraid so." she said quietly. "I've never done anything like this before. You make me want to do the most naughty things." Her voice got quiet. "Does that mean you're going to spank me now?" Sam wasn't sure if she was anxious to be spanked, or afraid. "Yes, I'm going to spank you..." She gasped as a small, but definite orgasm rippled through her body. Sam noticed and smiled to himself. She was perfect. "...but not now. Later." "Oooohhhhh, yyyeess," she sighed. "Will it be hard?" Still in the quiet voice. Sam decided it must be wistful. "Yes, it will be hard. And long." "Oooohhhhh, YYEESS," came her quiet answer. She was wet and ready for him now. Right there. On the floor. She didn't care. Sam stood and took her hand. She stood up obediently and he led her out onto the dance floor. As they began dancing, he took her hands in his, kissed the palms of each and then placed them behind her neck. She quivered with excitement at this strange posture he wanted her in. Her excitement inflamed his lust, making the front of his pants bulge with promise. He nudged and encouraged his pupil until she inter-laced her fingers behind her neck and spread her elbows wide, a quizzical, hopeful look on her face. Smiling reassuringly at her, he moved in closely to her offered body and held her close to his own. He could feel her pulsating tension. When she started to move her hands down, he pinched her firmly on her buttock. She gasped at the sudden pain, winced and then, with his encouragement, raised her hands back to the position he wanted them in. She looked up at him with a hurt wonderment in her eyes. Karin was not used to having someone else dictate anything to her. She was experiencing the first glorious feelings of total surrender to another's will. She drank it down as if she was dying of thirst. With her hands remaining clasped behind her neck, Sam began to take liberties with her luscious body right there on the dance floor. He brazenly slipped his hands up under the front panel of her dress and possessively cupped her a succulent breast in each of his large hands. They fit nicely over the curved orbs, but there was still plenty left over. He began to tease and torment the dazed woman. Her breathing became even more ragged and she began to loose her balance. He grinned knowingly, placed his arm around her tiny waist, and pulled her lower torso against his lower body. He made her lean back slightly to give him easier access to her tits. She willingly complied. She was literally falling into him as they swayed softly to the sensual music. Rolling her stiff nipples softly between his fingers, he watched her reactions. Gasping slightly, she gazed up into his eyes but didn't flinch or pull away. Her shallow breathing became more rapid. Excited little mewls and moans escaped from her throat, music to his ears. The blood rose up from her throat into her neck and then her cheeks. She was not embarrassed, just excited. A slow smile twitched at the corners of her lips. "Am I naughty to let you do this to me? she asked him teasingly. "Very naughty," he said in mock seriousness. "I'm going to have to punish you really hard." He roughly twisted her nipples back and forth, pulling them outwards slightly for emphasis. "Oh, oh oh OH OH OH OH OH!" Her eyes took on a slightly defocus look and she shuddered, leaning all of her weight against him for support. He continued to gently roll her nipples throughout her orgasm to stimulate her as much as possible. As she came back to her senses, he pulled her into his chest. She relaxed into him and smiled up at him. "Thank you, Sam." She lifted her lips up to his face for a kiss. He complied. "That was just the beginning, kid. Just the beginning." They continued to dance for a while, his hands a constant source of arousal. She drifted along in his arms, felling no embarrassment at what he did to her or at what he exposed to the others watching. For her the others didn't exist. Only Sam. Her Sam. For their part, the other club members sat and enjoyed the show. They had all seen it before, but still, they appreciated the skill of `Sam' and the beauty of the innocent girl. The other women who were present were engaged in similar activities as Karin. Some had had more of an idea of what would be expected and were actively satisfying their partners. One or two had resisted the blatant advances and had been restrained and forced to comply. The coercion of the women bothered some, but the anonymity provided by the event allowed them to rationalize that their reputations, if not their consciences, were clear. ------------------------------------------------------ Back in the isolated apartment, he danced with her again. Sam had selected some music while Karin was in the bathroom freshening up. Actually, she was shaking so much with sexual frustration and excitement she could barely pee. Sam had turned off all the lights but one overhead spotlight. This light was now turned to create a circle of light in the center of the floor. The rest of the room was in deep shadows. She had finally gathered back together a semblance of composure, but then lost it when she stepped into the dramatically lit living room. All she could see on him were his two hands and forearms where they intersected the circle of light, inviting her into the circle. She tried not to seem to eager as she walked into the light and felt his arms around her once more. Her heart felt like it was in her throat and she had to fight to take a breath. When Sam finally felt the tension began to ease from her body, he began to move her around, always keeping her centered in the light. She had thought he was bold in the ballroom, but here he really let loose. Her hands were placed back behind her neck again. This time he held them there, adding an extra dash of spice. Using them as a grip, he pulled her face up to his. Kissing her gently and tenderly, he tasted her lips and eyes. The salty taste of her tears intrigued him, but he saw they were tears of joy. There was no hesitation, no pulling back from him or his advances. In fact, it seemed that she rushed to meet his lips and fingers as they violated her. His kisses became more insistent until their tongues were thickly entwined. Both of them were breathing hard, their feet moving only slightly. He pulled back a bit and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. She closed her eyes in sheer pleasure. They were dancing close. It was a dream, a fairy tale. Sam reached down with one hand and fingered her butt after pulling the hem of her dress up to expose it. She giggled at his touch on her bare ass and moved the firm flesh lewdly up and down under his wandering finger. Not satisfied to be passive, she experimentally rubbed his crotch with her thigh, teasing him as he had been teasing her all night long. She felt his hardness move back and forth in his slacks. He groaned slightly, but did nothing to stop her. She grinned up at his reddened face, his mouth open, panting. She pressed harder against his erection and felt him shudder. "Now you've done it! You've been a naughty girl tonight, Karin," he said to her. "Oh, really?" "Yes, you have. I'm going to have to punish you for being so naughty." "Oooh. How are you going to punish me?" Karin and Sam were nose to nose, speaking softly to each other. She saw he was pleased when she played the role of an innocent little girl, asking him na